“A republic, if you can keep it.”
By James H. Andrews
Presented to the Chicago Literary
Club
March 18, 2013
We experienced
in January this year one of the stirring and recurring moments in our American
democracy. A newly-elected president took the oath of office as president of
the United States. It was the same oath
sworn by George Washington and by his 42 successors in the 224 years since
1789.
1789 was also
an important year in Europe. Frenchmen revolted against their king and
established a republican government, actions that changed history across the
continent and around the world.
In France
itself, however, in the years since, the form of government has changed not
just once, but repeatedly, from monarchy to republic, to empire, to restoration
of the royal line, to republic, and back and forth again and again. The present
government of France is the Fifth Republic.
In our
country, after the rebellion against the British crown, and a dozen years
trying to manage our affairs through a loose confederation of states, we
adopted the written constitution that guides us today. In peace and war, even a
civil war, we have every four years inaugurated a new president, often with a
defeated president at the winner’s side.
The
Philadelphia convention that wrote the American constitution met in secret,
without press briefings, newspaper reports, instant messages, even Twitters. As
the convention broke up, and the men—of course they were men—left the hall, “an
anxious lady named Mrs. Powel [sic]”
approached Benjamin Franklin, perhaps the best known of the delegates,
and of course a longtime resident of the convention city. What type of
government, she asked, have you delegates given us? “A republic,” Franklin
said, “if you can keep it.” If you
can keep it.
We, in
America, have kept it, have kept our republic. But this paper is about France,
France of the five republics. How does it happen that the French now live in
republic number five?
We like, even revere our constitution, those who wrote and
adopted it, and in the earliest years, made it work. Our constitution, the
structure it prescribes, the rights it proclaims, seem to work well. When we
find fault, we think of changing the constitution, and we have, with 27
amendments in 200 years. Sometimes we even repeal an amendment. We also accept
the idea of a “living constitution” through an elaborate system of
constitutional law. Only once have we resorted to civil war, to war against
ourselves.
Our republic
has been a beacon for other peoples. Today there are republics all over the
world, republics in name at least. Wikipedia’s list of nations that are called “republic”
is so long I gave up counting. What a surprising list it is! Democracies,
dictatorships, and tyrannies mixed together: the People’s Republic of China,
founded in 1949; the other Republic of China, which since 1949 has governed
only Taiwan; the Republic of India; the Federal Republic of Germany. Then there
are the Arab Republic of Egypt, since 1952; the Dominican Republic; the Islamic
Republic of Iran; and in the old days, the Union of Soviet Socialist Republics.
This paper
is about republics that, in Franklin’s phrase, could not be kept: The four
republics of France that did not endure, and the republic, the Fifth, that most
of its people now accept.
FIRST REPUBLIC
The Republic of France—the first one—was, of course, a
product of the Revolution of 1789. That Revolution, in the words of historian
Alistair Horne, was “the most devastating cataclysm in the whole of Europe’s
past history; and, indeed, its future, until the coming of the First World War
in 1914 and Lenin in 1917.” The French have spent almost 225 years coming to
terms with the Revolution, and assessing and disputing its meaning.
The
Revolution came in the wake of circumstances that become all too familiar as
regimes come and go: economic stagnation, bills for extravagances and wars, a
severely cold winter, hunger, philosophies and beliefs critical of the existing
regime.
King Louis
XVI in early 1789 convened the Estates-General to raise money to pay down the
nation’s enormous debt. Meeting for the first time in 175 years, the
Estates-General was composed of three groups or estates—representatives of the
nobility, of the clergy, and of the common people. The third estate, calling
itself the National Assembly, vowed not to separate until they had a
constitution. Eventually joined by
members of the other estates, the Assembly issued the Declaration of the Rights
of Man and adopted a liberal constitution, which retained the monarchy, and the
king accepted it.
Power in the
new Legislative Assembly, elected by active citizens, shifted from one group to
another. The government declared war against Austria, found itself fighting
Prussia as well, won some battles, and lost others. Revolutionary enthusiasm
increased, and mobs attacked the royal palace; there were massacres in Paris
and other cities; the king was confined and relieved of his duties.
Increasingly
polarized and unable to act, the Assembly was replaced by a National Convention,
all republican and elected by manhood suffrage, called to frame a constitution.
At its first meeting, September 21, 1792, the Convention abolished the monarchy
and declared France a republic—this was the first French republic. The
convention tried Louis XVI for treason, found him guilty, and sent him to the
guillotine.
The
governments that followed over the next twelve years were nominally republican.
The National Convention hung on for three years, with various elements of the
divided country ruling through various
arrangements, executing officials and other citizens regarded as enemies of the
Revolution. Most notorious was the Committee of Public Safety, which pursued
the infamous Reign of Terror. Robespierre and other leaders were eventually
brought down, the Terror ended, and more moderate voices were heard.
The new
Constitution of 1795—the third of the Revolution—established a bicameral
legislature and an executive in the form of a Directory of five men, one to be
replaced each year. But the regime suffered from party divisions, plots,
coups-d’etat, counter coups, corruption, and a growing influence of the army.
As various
groups struggled for power, Napoleon Bonaparte, the little colonel who became a
general, piled up victory after victory on foreign battlefields. Despite an
occasional defeat, he attracted the support and loyalty of his men and demonstrated
a capacity to undertake and direct large enterprises. In 1799 he led a coup d’etat
against the Directory and installed a new governing agency, the Consulate. He
was first consul, with a term of ten years and dictatorial powers. Later he was
made consul for life.
There was
much for him to do. Paris was in terrible condition after “ten years of
anarchy, sedition and laxity, during which no useful work had been undertaken,
not a street had been cleaned, not a residence repaired, nothing improved or
cleansed,” Sainte-Beuve wrote.
Napoleon
bridged national divisions. He won “the loyalties of most elements of French
life: the Catholics, the bureaucracy, the peasantry and the bourgeoisie.” Yet
he addressed the people not as “elements of French life,” but as a whole. In
one of his earliest proclamations, he declared that “[t]he Government neither
wants, nor recognizes parties any more, seeing in France only Frenchmen.” He
ruled for France, embodied France, he was
France.
But he was
not republican France. In 1804 Napoleon made himself hereditary emperor. The
people voted their approval, and the republic—the First Republic, as we start
counting—was officially at an end. The Empire won victories at home and abroad,
but Napoleon’s military ambitions produced a coalition of enemies that eventually
defeated him. He abdicated once, and was exiled. The Allies put a Bourbon king
back on the throne, but Napoleon mounted a military campaign to return to
power, won popular support, and moved back to the Tuileries Palace. But a vote
of the people defeated his new constitution and his army lost to allied forces
at Waterloo. One hundred days after his return, he was exiled again.
The new
king, Louis XVIII, agreed to a constitution providing for a chamber of peers
nominated by the hereditary monarch, a chamber of deputies elected by limited
suffrage, and guarantees of civil and religious liberty. Louis was succeeded by
Charles X, who attempted to restore the monarchy’s pre-revolution position. Charles
lost the support of the Chamber of Deputies, and a liberal majority drafted a
protest. At the same time radicals took over Paris and moved to create a new
republic. King Charles refused to accept limits on his power and fled to
England, declaring, “I would rather hew wood than be a king like the King of
England!”
Liberal
deputies favored a monarchy rather than a republic, but did not want to restore
the senior Bourbon or Bonaparte lines. A rump group settled on Louis-Philippe, representative
of a younger Bourbon line and eager for the job. He became King of the French,
a “citizen king” without divine right.
Supported in
the early years by the wealthy bourgeoisie, Louis-Philippe eventually fell from
power because of opposition on the right—followers of the Bourbons and the
Bonapartes, and on the left—the new industrial classes.
SECOND REPUBLIC
In 1848, fueled
by economic depression and ideas of utopian socialism, workers and students
took to the streets of Paris in what is called the February Revolution. Despite
armed government resistance, they took over the city. The king, facing strong
parliamentary opposition as well, abdicated and fled to England. “[T]his time a
regime was not overthrown” said Alexis de Tocqueville, “it was simply allowed
to fall.” After the Paris mob
infiltrated a rump meeting of the Chamber of Deputies, moderate republicans
joined the radicals to proclaim a new republic. That is the second (if you are
counting).
The Second
Republic was greeted in Paris with what Flaubert called “a carnival-like
exuberance.” In Russia, in St. Petersburg, there was a different response: “a
thoroughly alarmed Tsar shouted: ‘Gentlemen, saddle your horses; France is a republic!’”
One of the
radicals’ alarming objectives was universal manhood suffrage, and it was
achieved in France in national elections in April. Eighty-four percent of
eligible men voted. The result was a massive vote by conservative France
against radical Paris, and moderate Republicans won a majority in the new National
Assembly.
But
unemployment was high and the proletariat was aware of its political strength. In
March, April, and May there were street protests, with protesters invading
sessions of the Assembly. The forces of order were now terrified, and riots in
June brought a heavy military response. Some 1,500 insurgents were killed and
12,000 arrested. It was, says historian Horne, the bloodiest fighting ever seen
on the streets of Paris, including that of 1789, “a scenario of a republic
butchering its own supporters in a way that no French monarchy or empire could
rival, . . . .The Second Republic limped
along with the military in charge.”
A new
constitution proposed in November called for a single legislative chamber, a
strong president, direct election, and separation of powers. Prince Louis-Napoleon,
age 40, had long tried to emulate his imperial uncle, but had attracted
attention mainly by leading two unsuccessful coups d’etat. In December 1848 he
ran for president of the Republic, a four-year term. Drawing on his name and a
popular desire for law and order, he easily defeated two republicans, receiving
75 percent of the vote. The first president of the Republic, Louis-Napoleon
took office without a party behind him and a parliament hostile to his
ambitions.
He posed as
champion of the underdog and in the early years he permitted a free press and introduced
social programs for the unemployed. Adolphe Thiers, a parliamentary leader, characterized
Louis-Napoleon as someone the Assembly could manage, but the Assembly soon
realized the president had substantial political skills. Since he could not run
for reelection, Louis-Napoleon tried to change the constitution so he could serve
ten years. Monarchists in the Assembly, increasingly afraid of his growing
power, refused to provide the votes to extend his term, but could not agree on
someone to replace him.
When it was
clear there was a deadlock, the president in December 1851 dissolved parliament,
arrested 200 deputies, and appealed to the nation. The people voted 7.5 million
to 640,000 to give him dictatorial powers for ten years. One year later he
declared himself Emperor of the French,
reigning as Napoleon III. Another republic that was not kept: This was the end
of the Second Republic, the beginning of the Second Empire.
Although
short-lived, the Second Republic, far more than the First, introduced France to
the responsibilities of democratic government, for both the governors and the
governed. There were still many lessons to learn, and social and economic
divisions did not make learning easy. But the Republic provided, in the halls
of the Assembly and also in the streets, experience in dealing, for better and
worse, with conflicting ideals and objectives.
After a
dozen years of absolute rule, Napoleon III shifted to what is often called the
“Liberal Empire.” He called elections, relaxed censorship, and eventually
ordered formation of a cabinet that would faithfully represent the majority in the
Legislative Assembly. But the forces of change had been unleashed. Although
Napoleon’s supporters won a majority in the Assembly in 1869, 42 percent of the
voters cast ballots in favor of his opponents, who ranged across the political
spectrum from socialists to monarchists. In the streets there were protests,
strikes, riots, an assassination plot. The government made arrests and closed
left-wing newspapers, and Napoleon again turned to the public for support. In a
May 1870 referendum on his “liberal reforms” of the constitution, he won 7.5
million of the nine million votes cast.
At the same
time, in the late 1860s, Napoleon and Prussian Chancellor Otto von Bismarck
competed over various pieces of European real estate while the German states
moved toward unification. Both men expected war, and in July 1870 France
declared war on Prussia. Prussia invaded France, and on September 1 decisively
defeated the French. Napoleon, who was at the front, surrendered the entire
army, turned his sword over to Prussian King William, and was taken prisoner.
It was a colossal defeat for France, the end of the Second Empire, and it made
Germany the dominant power in Europe.
THIRD
REPUBLIC
The news struck
Paris like a thunderbolt. The emperor was a captive of the enemy, 83,000 French
soldiers had been captured, another 17,000 were dead or wounded on the
battlefield, the Army of the Rhine was pinned down at Metz, and the city of
Strasbourg under siege. Reaction was mixed—demoralization alongside jubilation.
For radical republicans it was an opportunity.
When the
Assembly met that day, there were proposals to declare the throne vacant,
secure an armistice, and convoke a constitutional convention. But before the
body could act, a mob invaded the chamber. To prevent radicals from seizing the
government, most of the deputies trooped to the Hôtel de Ville, the city hall, and
there proclaimed the Republic—another Republic. This was republic number three.
A government of national defense was organized that afternoon.
That government
was “born of necessity,” Adolphe Thiers told the Russian chancellor in St.
Petersburg when he sought assistance soon after the government was formed. It “was
not the triumph of one party over another, and if it did not satisfy all, it
was the despair of none.” Those honest, but far from exciting words, would come
to describe the new regime over its life of seventy years. The Third Republic
would, as historian Maurice Agulhon put it, “live a long time on the hideous
memory of the Bonaparte regime.”
The new
republic had a war to fight and a nation to defend, but the Prussian army met
little resistance. Within three weeks 200,000 troops surrounded Paris. When the
French rejected terms for an armistice, the Prussians laid siege to Paris. Radicals
tried to carry on the war, but provincial armies were defeated, destroyed, and
immobilized.
The Paris Siege took a terrible toll—smallpox, pneumonia,
starvation, shortages of coal and gasoline as well as food. The Prussians,
riding high, staged a ceremony in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles. With
Bismarck and King William himself on hand, the king was proclaimed William I,
emperor of a united Germany. Ten days later, January 28, 1871, after four
months held captive by the German army, with virtually no food remaining, Paris
capitulated.
An armistice permitted the French to elect a representative assembly
to decide whether to continue the war. Provincial France was now overwhelmingly
anti-war and anti-republican; conservatives won two-thirds of the seats in the National
Assembly and agreed to a treaty of peace.
But Paris radicals did not surrender. Backed by sympathetic troops,
they organized the Paris Commune and took control of the city. The Assembly
moved its operations to Versailles and in three months the so-called Versailles
Army crushed the Communards. By the time it was over, the war among the French
for Paris had killed between 20,000 and 30,000 people, far more than the Reign
of Terror in Paris. The physical destruction was shocking; the Thomas Cook
travel agency sent British tourists to see the ruins.
The provisional
French government went about managing the country. The conservative Assembly
made Adolphe Thiers president of the Republic. The monarchists, playing for
time, regarded the presidency as a temporary
position, but could not agree whose head should wear the crown—a descendant of
the Bourbon kings, or of Louis-Philippe, or of Napoleon Bonaparte.
The Assembly
authorized two loans that allowed France to pay the huge indemnity imposed by
the Germans, and the German army pulled out. After the loans were paid, the
majority voted to condemn the Thiers government and he resigned. The Assembly
immediately elected a new president, Marshal MacMahon, a monarchist and the
general whose troops crushed the Commune. MacMahon was expected to prepare the
way for a king, but the Bourbon and Bonaparte claimants to the throne
disqualified themselves. So the Assembly elected MacMahon president for seven
years.
There would
be no constitutional document for the Third Republic. Its structure was
established in 1875, almost five years after collapse of the empire, by a
series of laws. The crucial bill passed by one vote. The new system was, one
historian calls it, a “republic by default.”
The new parliament
was composed of a Chamber of Deputies elected by direct popular vote and a
Senate elected indirectly through a system representing municipalities. The two
bodies chose a president for a term of seven years. The president could
dissolve the Chamber, with Senate consent, but he could not veto actions by
parliament. Every precaution was taken to prevent a coup d’etat or ratification
by plebiscite. There would not be another Louis-Napoleon. Maurice Agulhon describes
the system as “a Republic surrounded by monarchic institutions.”
The first
Chamber of Deputies was overwhelmingly republican and the Senate conservative,
as was President MacMahon. The first test of the new system came when the
president dismissed a premier and the republican Chamber voted “no confidence”
in the president’s choice for a replacement. The president, with the Senate’s
consent, then dissolved the Chamber and called elections. Republicans won
another majority, however, and rejected two more presidential nominees for
premier. For republicans, Agulhon says, “the
right of dissolution carried a whiff of coup d’etat.” President MacMahon gave
up and appointed a premier acceptable to the Chamber. No president dissolved
parliament again, and the Chamber of Deputies, with the president sitting on
the sidelines, reigned through the Third
Republic and the Fourth Republic as well.
In 100 years,
all of France’s six constitutional monarchies had turned out badly, so as the
Third Republic matured, republicanism came to mean explicitly rejecting
monarchy and dictatorship. And because the Roman Catholic Church and its
supporters were associated with dictators and monarchs, republicanism also came
to mean anticlericalism—rejecting a political role or favoritism for the church.
By 1879, one
hundred years after the Revolution, France had reached a basic acceptance of
republican government. There were numerous signs: The conservative republican
governments of those years acted on two of the great issues from the past—they adopted
anti-clerical laws and they gave amnesty to the Paris Communards of 1871. The
seat of government moved back from Versailles to Paris. The “Marseillaise” was
chosen as the national anthem, and July 14 was established as the national celebration
known in English as Bastille Day.
In the Twentieth
Century, during the first three decades, France, in the words of Stanley
Karnow, “soared from unparalleled
prosperity into the carnage of World War I and, after recovering briefly,
plummeted into the depths of the Depression.”
The First
World War, or the Great War, as it was known then, lasted four years and was
fought mostly in France. It “left the country,” Agulhon says, “in a state of
lasting enfeeblement.” It cost 1.4 million men killed in action and much of the
French hope for the future. The economic depression of the 1930s was
accompanied by German expansionism and rearmament. Beleaguered from both the Right
and the Left, the weak and changing coalitions of the Chamber of Deputies were not
able to respond to these challenges with purpose and consistency. From mid-1932
until Germany invaded Poland—seven years—there were 19 governments and 11
premiers.
The Second World War in Europe began in September 1939. German
armies did not invade the Low Countries and France until the following May, but
they moved rapidly. Paris fell on June 14. Three days later the French premier
resigned and the president asked Philippe Petain, age 84, hero of the First
World War and marshal of France, to form a government. He did, and asked for an
armistice.
The next day
General Charles de Gaulle (whose only government position, assumed two weeks
before, had been under-secretary of state for defense) made a radio broadcast
from London to the Continent: “Whatever happens,” he said, “the flame of French
resistance must not and will not be extinguished.” He urged French officers and
soldiers, and engineers and workers in the arms industry, to contact him. Britain
supported de Gaulle and severed relations with the Pétain regime. The Petain armistice
called for disarming all French forces and surrendering three-fifths of France to
German occupation.
The Petain
government established its seat in the town of Vichy, where the Third Republic
“in effect committed suicide.” The Senate and Chamber of Deputies, sitting
together, voted full powers to Petain, then adjourned. The defeated Republic,
in the words of one historian, “evaporated like the dew.” It was the end of
another Republic, the start of another dictatorial regime, and collaboration between
French officials and German conquerors.
A deep and
widespread sense of loss pervaded French society. Alan Furst suggests the mood
in his novel, Red Gold: “Our part of
the world, out in Passy, is coming apart,” a Parisian woman tells an old
friend. “That’s really what’s going on. Half of my friends listen to de Gaulle
on the radio, the other half keep portraits of Petain on the piano. Somehow,
Bruno [her husband] and I wound up on different sides. . . . And it’s not just
couples, it’s everywhere, even in the same family—between sisters, between
fathers and sons. It’s terrible, Jean-Claude.”
De Gaulle,
like Vichy, like every monarch and president before him, claimed to represent
the French state. De Gaulle did not claim legality; he did claim legitimacy. On
that basis he created a government-in-exile in Algiers with representation of
political parties, including the Communists. The Liberation of France erased the
Vichy regime, and the Allies recognized de Gaulle’s provisional government in the
fall of 1944. Germany surrendered the following May, Japan in August.
The Second
World War devastated the French nation. There was not only the German
occupation and looting of physical and economic assets, but also political and
psychological deterioration and destruction. The French people had fought each
other. Trials and punishments, official and otherwise, haunted the country for
years to come.
Frank Giles,
quoting de Gaulle in his memoirs, writes that “ever since the collapse of
Napoleon and the First Empire, [130 years before] France had been living ‘in a
chronic state of infirmity, insecurity and acrimony.’ The 1918 victory had
revived morale, but only until the 1940 defeat, when ‘the soul of France died a
little more.’ So many disasters, he observed, inflicted terrible wounds upon
national unity. All fifteen regimes supervening since 1789, ‘each in turn
installed by revolution or coup d’etat’,
had been swept away by catastrophes, leaving ‘ineffaceable [indelible or
non-erasable] divisions’ behind them.”
FOURTH
REPUBLIC
So, what
now? Another German occupation ends; another dictatorial regime collapses. Does
France want a new republic, or to revive, somehow, the old Third?
The question
was put to the people in October 1945. The answer: 96 percent wanted a new
constitution. They also elected a constituent assembly, which made de Gaulle
head of government. The three major parties in the Assembly together received
seventy-three percent of the popular vote. The dominant parties were—from left
to right—the Communists, the socialists, and MRP, a movement of Christian
Democratic Catholics and Christian trade unionists. The national and municipal
elections in 1945 were, by the way, the first in which women were allowed to
vote.
France and
de Gaulle now faced the realities of practical government. The Assembly and the
parties were, in the view of an exasperated de Gaulle, interfering with
executive responsibilities. “How,” he
once remarked, “can you govern a country with three hundred varieties of
cheese?”
In January,
three months after the election, de Gaulle told his surprised ministers that he
would not associate himself with a revival of the “party regime” and resigned.
The MRP, socialists, and Communists promptly made an agreement that allowed the
formation of a new government. The assembly drafted a new constitution
providing that, as one writer puts it, “enshrined parliamentary power.” De
Gaulle and the MRP opposed the plan, however, and in a referendum in May, 53
percent of voters rejected it.
In a second
Constituent Assembly, the three dominant parties agreed on a constitution that
gave greater power to the president, but still put “parliament at the apex of
the system.” The new plan called for two legislative bodies, both elected by
popular vote. The two houses would meet together to elect a president.
When put to
a referendum in October 1946, the plan won, but support was weak: one-third of
the electorate did not vote at all and nearly one-third voted against it. France
had another republic with shaky public support. Although Communists had been
part of the government since Liberation, the party became more and more
critical of it. In May 1947, pushed by a huge strike at the Renault factories,
Communist deputies broke ministerial solidarity and voted against the
government. The premier dismissed the Communist ministers.
De Gaulle had
resigned from the government, now the Communists were out. That meant, Agulhon
points out, that the Republic had broken “with the most popular of the forces
which had arisen from the Resistance. The regime thus inaugurated the long
years of struggle on two fronts that were to characterize it for history.” De
Gaulle’s biographer, Jonathan Fenby, says that this was “the true birth of the
Fourth Republic as Socialists, Radicals, and Independents sought to govern through
a ‘Third force’ in the centre-left of French politics, dominated by a small
cast of individuals who swapped government posts or held on through thick and
thin.”
“Thick and
thin” meant years of flimsy coalitions, of “turn-stile politics,” Stanley Karnow
calls it. In fourteen years there were 25 cabinets, with an average life span
of six months. The French “contemptuously dubbed the assembly la maison sans fenetres.”—the house
without windows.
“History
largely accounted for the chronic instability,” Karnow writes. Since 1789
repeated revolts against oppression had produced fifteen separate regimes based
on “a visceral distrust for authority.” The constitution “perpetuated the
fissures that had traditionally fragmented France: urban versus rural,
management versus labor, big corporations versus small —and the most stubborn
of all, secular versus religious.”
The biggest
challenges in the 1950s, however, came from outside: the Cold War between East
and West and the decolonialization of French possessions in Indochina and Africa.
France spent time, money, and lives trying to hang on to its colonies. Other
international efforts were more successful: The nations of Western Europe built
organizations for economic cooperation and joined with the United States and
Canada for military security.
By 1958,
however, as a New York Times book
reviewer wrote, “on the cusp of civil war over Algeria, the Fourth Republic was
ready to collapse, and it did—right into the hands of Le Grand Charles.”
Algeria was
no mere colony. It was legally part of France and home to one million French
settlers living among nine million indigenous Muslims. A savage guerrilla war
had gone on for years, bringing demonstrations and violence to a head in Paris
and Algiers in the spring of 1958. One government resigned, then another. The
Army in Algeria staged a coup. A few days later seventy American tourists refused
to leave their planes at Orly Airport for fear of being caught up in a
revolution. General de Gaulle, 67, out of government for a dozen years, said, “I
am ready to assume the powers of the Republic.” President Coty asked him to form a government.
Here we are
again: Another republic in danger, another de Gaulle rescue. And another
republic to come, this one the fifth.
FIFTH
REPUBLIC
The Assembly
voted for a de Gaulle government and granted him emergency powers for six
months. A new constitution with a strong presidential office won a 79 percent majority
in a referendum that fall. De Gaulle, chosen by a system of indirect election, assumed
the presidency in January 1959 for a term of seven years. He ruled as a republican
monarch.
But the
torment of Algeria continued. In a January 1961 referendum, 75 percent
supported the principle of self-determination for Algeria. But negotiations
faced opposition in both France and Algeria. In 1961-62 there were
demonstrations and terrorist attacks, attempts on de Gaulle’s life, and another
putsch in Algiers, led by four French generals. In July 1962 the French voted
99.72 percent for Algerian self-determination, and two days later Algeria was independent.
France’s
first direct election for president (the result of a constitutional change) took
place in December 1965. De Gaulle, now 75, ran against the political parties. The
issue, he told the voters, is “me or chaos.” He won only 45 percent in the
first round of voting—Francois Mitterrand came in second—but he won the second
round with 54.5 percent.
The Republic
faced another threat again in 1968 when university students protested policies
and operation of the University of Paris. Violent demonstrations were followed
by a general strike, paralyzing France and jeopardizing the Republic.
Forty years
later, Steven Erlanger, writing in The
New York Times, described the impact of those events: “May 1968 was a watershed in French life, a holy moment of
liberation for many, when youth coalesced, the workers listened and the
semi-royal French government of President Charles de Gaulle took fright. But
for others, like the current president, Nicolas Sarkozy, only 13 years old at
the time, May '68 represents anarchy and moral relativism, a destruction of
social and patriotic values that, he has said in harsh terms, "must be
liquidated.’"
In the midst
of the revolution, de Gaulle disappeared, going to French army headquarters in
Germany seeking support. He then addressed the nation, rallying the faithful in
Paris. He dissolved the Assembly and won a huge majority in parliamentary
elections in June The crisis was over, but his position was weakened. The next
year he called a referendum on two constitutional changes and declared it a
vote on his leadership. Fifty-four percent voted against him and he resigned.
After de
Gaulle, the most significant figure in the history of the Fifth Republic is François
Mitterrand, a Socialist. Mitterrand lost
two presidential elections, then won in 1981. He won a second term seven years
later, serving as president for fourteen years. Like de Gaulle, he was
criticized for his monarchical style.
Mitterrand’s
tenure demonstrated, first, that the Socialist Party could govern; the Fifth
Republic was essentially conservative before Mitterrand. It showed also that
the Republic could survive with a constitutionally strong president of one
party and at the same time a prime minister and parliamentary majority from
other parties. After an initial victory, the socialists lost their
parliamentary majority, then won it back. Two periods of what the French call “cohabitation”
showed the strength and flexibility of the Republic, its parties, and its
leaders.
De Gaulle
saved his country twice, in 1940 and 1958. He led the ultimately successful
battle to create a strong constitutional presidency, and his presidency, in the
words of historian Tony Judt, marked the end of “the era of political
irresponsibility” that dated from 1918.
De Gaulle
was not modest about his own status. Biographer Jonathan Fenby tells this
story: “When his secretary raised the prospect of him becoming a member of the
Academie-Francaise, he replied: ‘The King of France does not belong to the
Academy, nor does Napoleon.’” His final contribution, like Washington’s, was to
give up the presidency voluntarily.
France now faces
the challenge of dealing with a significant minority population in a way that
honors the rights proclaimed in the Revolution of 1789. French economic and
social divisions, however, appear to be less substantial today than in earlier
republics. And France has been able, incredibly, through sustained and shared effort,
at home and abroad, to live peacefully with its European neighbors for almost
seventy years.
Vive la France!
Vive la Republique!