As France gears up for its 2007 elections, the specter of the last presidential runoff looms menacingly on the horizon. On that picture-perfect April day, a staggering electoral upset propelled an aging neo-fascist firebrand to the second round, where he faced off against another wizened pachyderm of French politics, President Jacques Chirac. An unsuspecting nation was shaken to its core, robbed of any democratic alternative to Chirac and his hastily concocted center-right coalition. The period of civil unrest which ensued has continued more or less unabated, and has been unprecedented in its vehemence and its scope. Highlighted by the massive 2003 demonstrations against pension reform, the decisive rejection of the draft European Constitution in ‘04, the incredibly destructive ‘05 riots, and the paralyzing student strike of ‘06, Chirac’s final, unavoidable mandate has been a fitting finale to one of the most lamentable episodes of the Fifth Republic.

The first-round victory of Jean-Marie Le Pen, the truculent leader of the xenophobic Front National, was no accident. A reactionary populism (of which Le Pen is only the most notorious proponent) had already spread to both sides of the political spectrum, embodied by the likes of Jean-Pierre Chevènement and Philippe de Villier. Anti-European, anti-immigrant, and anti-American, these 21st Century Gallic demagogues despise modernity, diversity, and democratic values. Historically, the roots of these various movements run deep, and their influence is still growing.

In 1986, as a way to undermine Chirac’s Rassemblement Pour La Republique (RPR) party, Socialist President François Mitterrand introduced a proportional system in the general elections. With barely 10% of the vote, the FN snatched 35 parliamentary seats, and the movement gained a legitimate public platform on which to air its grievances. Le Pen has since proceeded to become the most significant Western European political avatar since World War II, paving the way not only for the current posy of French radical reactionaries, but also for a pan-European neo-fascist resurgence, characterized by Austria’s Jorg Haider, Holland’s late Pim Fortuyn and his political heir Geert Wilders, Filip Dewinter and the Vlaams Belang Party in Belgium, the Danish People’s Party, and Italy’s Northern League. Le Pen is running for France’s top office again in 2007, and his standing in the polls a few months before the election is twice as high as before the last presidential contest.

In 1989, the year of the bicentennial of the French Revolution, I was an exchange student at the Political Science Institute in Aix-en-Provence. I took to having weekly dinners with a group of students, including members of the Aix-Marseille Law Faculty—a bastion of the extreme right. One of these law students was a prominent member of the FN youth section, the FNJ. Patrick Raoul was articulate, witty, and unassuming. There was nothing unsavory, authoritarian, or inflammatory about either his appearance or his rhetoric, but despite his understated style, Raoul was an effective proselytizer for the radical right. The views he expressed were fairly typical of the FN’s intellectual elite, and largely inspired by a highbrow rightist think tank, Le Club de l’Horloge — itself the brainchild of a select group of Hellenist scholars seeking to reestablish the primacy of European civilization.

Raoul believed, first and foremost, that Europe was a Christian entity, and that “from the Atlantic to the Urals,” a Christian entity it should remain. Islam, he argued, was completely incompatible with that vision, primarily because it was intrinsically “hegemonist”—craving perpetual expansion at the expense of other belief systems. That inherent conflict could never be resolved until the Arabs living in Europe were fully absorbed into the larger society, which entailed either abandoning their faith entirely or else practicing some highly diluted form of it, which he defined as a “holistic,” multi-confessional monotheism. Otherwise, it was “the national identity” of France that would be lost to this cohort of “non-assimilable” immigrants. It is that very myth of total integration, not secular values, which is behind both the recent legislative battle waged by the French government against Muslim students sporting headscarves in public schools, and its deep antagonism to the idea of affirmative action. If everyone is “integrated,” then why create friction by dividing this idyllic society along ethnic lines? Central to this philosophy is the notion that France is one cohesive, indivisible entity — La Nation — unlike, say, America, where penal law varies from state to state, and where local assemblies can legislate on issues like the death penalty, mandatory prison sentences, and abortion. France remains the most centralized of the big European nations.

Raoul’s views carried a lot of clout with the other FN sympathizers (as they do today even within the ranks of the UMP majority party). He actually lived in the cités for one — in the tough, mainly Muslim ghetto of La Rose in Northern Marseille, where his sickly mother had to endure “the smells and cries of slaughtered lamb” during Ramadan (Chirac himself, in an infamous speech, once mentioned the “odors” generated by the practices of North African communities). Raoul was thus a walking transcript of Arab transgressions, a prized reference for the other, more privileged students who had never set foot in the ghetto (la banlieue), and never would.

Raoul’s litany of remedies for the “Arab problem” were focused on curtailing immigration, enacting a more repressive criminal justice system, bringing about a forced integration of the Muslim minorities already present, and reasserting the authority of La Nation in the banlieues, which he dubbed “the lost territories of the Republic.” As it turns out, insecurity was the dominant topic of the 2002 elections in which Le Pen scored his historic upset. The projects, poor suburbs, and immigrant neighborhoods were by then widely depicted in the media as “zones de non-droit”— areas where gangs roam freely harassing the citizenry, selling drugs, and setting fire to automobiles. A media-fueled spectacle of civil chaos, which the FN was quick to capitalize on.

Le Pen’s Themes Conquer the Mainstream

To better grasp the growing appeal of the FN, in 1989 I attended a meeting in Marseille. Le Pen had scored 15% in the presidential elections the previous year, and the mood was triumphant. Uncomfortably ensconced between a row of cantankerous old ladies and a phalanx of grim-faced skinheads, I hoped to get the ordeal over with quickly. But Le Pen waited until the crowd had reached a state of anticipatory frenzy before emerging in a red, white, and blue light show — to a deafening roar. It was a collective cry of unqualified allegiance from another era.

Le Pen has argued that his doctrine of “national preference” is merely patriotic, but the social and political creed of the FN is, for all intents and purposes, identical to the Vichy regime’s “National Revolution” dogma. Le Pen, who has expressed his admiration for Pétain, is ostensibly attached to “traditional” values, to the extent that he recently borrowed the collaborationists’ old wartime slogan of “Family, Work, Fatherland,” merely tacking on “the republic” to that infamous triumvirate for good measure. And Le Pen, like Pétain, is overtly hostile to “foreign” influences (Pétain and his Prime Minister Pierre Laval were concerned mostly about Jews and Bolsheviks, Le Pen has a wider range). Despite its quasi-linear ideological affiliation with the most deplorable period of modern French history, Le Pen has managed to make his movement palatable to an ever-growing segment of the population.

I had never heard Le Pen speak before at any length. He could weave deftly be-tween the issues and his own agenda, while making substantial use of irony to heap ridicule on the mainstream political establishment. He also introduced some novel notions. Le Pen lambasted the idea of an increasingly “cosmopolitan” France, and denounced something he called “la mondialisation.” I had never heard the term before, but it soon morphed into “globalisation,” and a decade later in Seattle, José Bové, the plucky leader of the French Farmer’s Confederation, co-opted what was initially a construct of the FN to justify the riotous protests against the WTO.

The FN grew in popularity throughout the 90’s, achieving an astounding 258 seats in the 1998 regional elections. To curtail the seemingly unstoppable rise of the FN, the National Assembly then decided to change the electoral rules back to a majority system. While the maneuver cost the extreme right some seats, what has been described in France as “the ‘lepenisation’ of the spirit” has become a palpable reality. Le Pen’s contention that, although he, personally, may not have achieved any serious political power, his ideas have come to dominate society, is undeniable. Interior Minister Nicolas Sarkozy, the likely presidential candidate for the ruling majority coalition, has made insecurity and immigration his leitmotifs. His legislative activism is boundless, and revisions to the penal code have become routine. Repressive bills with names like the“Internal Security Act” and the “Delinquency Prevention Act” are adopted by the National Assembly at a frenzied pace—ten in the course of the last five years!  The son of a Hungarian immigrant, Sarkozy has also passed a series of laws focused at evicting as many illegal immigrants as possible from France, restricting asylum rights, and limiting any new immigration to individuals with stellar qualifications. No raging liberal herself, Ségolène Royal, the photogenic contender for the socialist opposition, is the proud daughter of an army officer and poster child for French family values—raising four children with her partner of 25 years, François Holland, the head of the Socialist Party. A new age populist, she has notably suggested “citizen juries” weigh in on the work of elected officials and that juvenile delinquents be placed under military authority. Which leaves some room to the left of the political spectrum, but don’t look for a progressive agenda in that direction.

Jean-Pierre Chevènement and the Ultra Left

In 1997, I attended a meeting of a leftist offshoot of the Socialist Party devoted to the topic of assimilation, or “l’integration” (which has a stronger, more organic, connotation). The MDC (Mouvement des Citoyens—now called MRC) was the brainchild of Jean-Pierre Chevènement, a hard-hitting proponent of French sovereignty and repeat presidential candidate. The MDC was always a maverick organization, but in the 1990’s it was widely considered by the left to be a promising new movement that could inject new vigor into what was viewed by many hardcore socialists as a degenerate PS — which militants felt had been compromised by François Mitterrand’s pragmatic, patrician brand of socialism.

The “Che”, as he is known, was Interior Minister at the time, and he had just finished drafting his own repressive immigration law. Before the rise of the FN, immigration had never been a divisive topic in socialist ranks, but that changed following Le Pen’s performance in ‘88 and ‘95, and after the municipalities of Orange and Toulon fell to the Front National. As we debated the difficulties faced by youths of (mostly) North African origin, I gave the example of a friend of Algerian descent, who was a grad student at La Sorbonne. Despite his two advanced degrees, he was desperately jobless. Why not force employers to hire a small proportion of qualified minorities, I suggested?  “This isn’t America,” George Sarre (the MDC Chairman) sneered. “France will never have racial quotas. This country does not have a history of institutional racism.”

I defended the idea as best I could, pointing out that it was a way to fight racism, but it was a doomed cause. Although the idea of positive discrimination has been embraced by immigrant groups, it has failed to make inroads within the political establishment (even if Sarkozy, who is nothing if not pragmatic, has come out in support of job quotas). The overwhelming consensus is that a system which exists in the US can only be anathema for La République, where “equality” and “fraternity” are constitutional principles. The fact that Jacobin egalitarianism doesn’t apply to hiring practices or access to higher education is simply glossed over. And that sad fact, not the accidental electrocution of two youths fleeing the police, is the root cause behind the wildfire ‘05 suburban riots.

The Rise of the Radical Reactionaries: A Bipartisan Endeavor

Reactionary movements like the FN and the MRC, thanks to a contrarian approach to both international and national politics, have built a solid backing within both France’s working classes and provincial bourgeoisie, and, have succeded in blurring the distinction between the left and the right. 47% of those who voted for Chevènement in the last presidential election identified themselves as right-wingers. Such was the case with France’s most infamous populist, who came out of a lengthy retirement to support Le Che. Pierre Poujade’s very name has entered the lexicon. “Poujadisme” denotes a form of grass-roots, anti-institutional populism. In 1953, Poujade founded a party to de-fend the interests of shopkeepers, artisans, and contractors. L’Union de Défense des Commerçants et Artisans organized a national tax boycott, and catapulted a certain law student named Jean-Marie Le Pen into the national scene. He was elected in 1956 under the UDCA banner, which, at the age of 27, made him the youngest representative ever elected to Parliament. In 1972, after volunteering to fight in Indochina, Egypt (the Suez crisis), and Algeria, and becoming involved in a variety of pro-colonialist fringe movements, he launched the Front National. The modern radical right was born. But the FN imagines itself as a movement which transcends political boundaries, and adopted a slogan (“ni droite, ni gauche,”) which was pulled right out of 1930s Nazi propaganda literature.

The reactionary right and the reactionary left offer a united front on many issues: from the dictates of “Brussels bureaucrats” and the loss of national sovereignty, to insecurity, unemployment, immigration, and American hegemony, their grievances (adapted to the particular rhetoric favored by their various constituencies) are similar if not quasi-identical. The influence of these groups was instrumental in the French public’s refusal to endorse the draft European Constitution, effectively grounding the prospect of European political construction. And yet, it’s too easy a matter to dismiss the refusal of the French to accept certain economic reforms as the result of fear or a kind of uniquely Gallic allergic reaction to globalization.

Social Justice, the Integration Myth, and the Jacobin Paradigm