In trouble with the law
By Zafar Masud
UNTIL 1981 Parisians gaped back awe-stricken if you told them some New Yorkers loved writing obscenities on the walls and recording them as songs. Then, with the victory of President François Mitterrand that year, in rolled the great socialist tidal wave and ‘people’s culture’ was accorded official blessing.
The then minister for culture, Jack Lang, had himself photographed for a double-spread in Paris Match proudly smiling into the lens, surrounded by a hoodlum gang that called itself NTM. The translation of the full name of this musical group will be too much for the sensitivities of the readers of this newspaper; suffice it to say it wouldn’t have made the mother of whoever was listening very happy. In the background was a wall full of smut.
Soon enough graffiti made its appearance on the elegant granite façades of centuries-old houses and buildings. Parisians, though fed up, only grumbled mezza voce. By that time, criticising ‘people’s culture’ had become a taboo. It remains so today.
In the mid-90s the tall, gravely-voiced mayor of Paris who looked a bit like John Wayne stood up and spoke openly of ridding the city, and the country while he was about it, of “distasteful odours, obnoxious noises and vulgarity”.
Jacques Chirac had already been prime minister twice but had failed in his bid to dethrone Mitterrand in 1988. This time the French heard him. He became president in 1995, inheriting a budget in tatters after a decade-and-a-half of state-run economy. His very first attempt that year to repair some of the socialist damage resulted in a month-long paralysing transport strike and total surrender by Prime Minister Alain Juppé to the powerful unions.
The proposed reforms project was withdrawn and, from then on, a fright-stricken Chirac accepted everything as a fait accompli. During his 12 years of presidency, only once would he show some backbone by refusing to join President Bush’s coalition to attack Iraq in 2003.
Chirac left the Elysée Palace this year at age 75, no longer the straight-shooter he used to be but more of a bumbling, mumbling old-timer with an irrefutable conviction that inaction is the best way to keep out of trouble. His legacy: rejection of the European Union constitution by the French in a 2005 referendum, violent suburban riots the same year in which more than 10,000 cars were burnt all over the country and a staggering 1,142 billion euros budget deficit.
Before his election, besides being mayor of Paris Jacques Chirac was also at the head of a political party, the Rally for the Republic (RPR) that he himself had founded. It was no exception if he used his position to raise contributions for his party; all mayors did that.
But the affair assumed an extraordinary dimension when in September 2000 a videotape was made public. It showed RPR’s chief fund-raiser Jean-Claude Méry speaking into the camera about a whole series of misdemeanours allegedly personally authorised by Chirac. What lent an unusually dramatic touch to the revelations was the fact that Méry had already died of cancer a year earlier.
In the tape Méry claimed contracts worth hundreds of millions of euros were awarded by City Hall to companies in the public works sector in exchange for generous contributions to RPR. Lavishly-paid jobs were created for people who worked exclusively for the party but drew salaries from the Hôtel de Ville. For his hectic travels, apparently for the benefit of RPR, and other expenses, the mayor spent, between 1987 and 1995, a sum of 2.13m euros, etc, etc.
By the time the Méry tape came out of the closet, Jacques Chirac still had two years left to complete his first term in office. The judges wanted to interrogate him but he claimed immunity because of his official position. This was accorded, willy-nilly.
Meanwhile, honouring his election promise, Chirac cut short the ‘septennat’, the painfully long seven-year presidential mandate, into a ‘quinquennat’ the leaner five-year term. At election time in 2002, the French once again expressed their rejection of the Left by excluding Lionel Jospin from the second round by casting their ballots heavily in favour of the ultra-right firebrand Jean-Marie Le Pen in the first.
But finally, over a socialist and an ultra-nationalist, the voters opted for the safer, still-life continuity of Chirac who was elected for a second, abridged presidential term following a lacklustre, no-surprises run-off.
The judges brought up the unsavoury issue of the Méry tape once more and the president’s lawyers were again successful in convincing them that the presidential immunity still held course according to the law, at least until the new election in 2007.
That protection finally came to an end on June 16 this year; that is, exactly a month after Chirac left the Elysée Palace. On Jul 19 he was heard for the first time by the judges. On Nov 21 he was placed under formal probe on suspicion of misuse of public funds. His request to investigating judge Xavière Simeoni that he be questioned in his own Parisian apartment was rejected and he had to appear in her chambers in the Palace of Justice like any other citizen facing the law. The questioning lasted more than three-and-a-half hours.
“Many inaccuracies, sometimes excessively caricatured, are circulating concerning my case,” the former president wrote in an article in Le Monde, claiming the decisions he made as mayor of Paris were “legitimate and necessary”.
Chirac is the first former president in modern French history to be placed under judicial probe by an investigating magistrate. According to the law this procedure is likely to culminate in a formal indictment. Since after the Méry tape broke surface seven years ago, many of Chirac’s former associates at City Hall have been sanctioned by justice under six other allegations of misuse of power connected with the former mayor.
The last two charges, those of corrupt practices to finance a political party and of bogus jobs, directly concern Jacques Chirac, the most powerful man in France a mere six months ago.
There has been no evidence of personal enrichment. All this was part of the power play most politicians indulged in, one way or the other, in most countries. Times change!
Jacques Chirac may or may not be sentenced but, when the dust settles, he will not be remembered as someone who did something wrong. He’ll be remembered as a president who did nothing.
The writer is a journalist based in Paris.

