Atypically French: Sarkozy's Bid to Be a Different Kind of President

Sarkozy contends, moreover, that France hides the reality of its inequality behind the theory of egalitarianism. This contradiction is exposed by the plight of France's minorities, an estimated five million of whom are Muslims. Many are concentrated in crowded housing projects ringing France's major cities. Sarkozy, who has twice held the job of interior minister, has been unyieldingly condemnatory of those who rioted in 2005 and firm, too, about the obligation of immigrants to respect France's republican values. Yet he also argues that minorities are underrepresented in positions of authority because France's creed precludes preferential treatment. In order to build ladders out of the de facto ghettos, he advocates in this book "a French version of affirmative action," thus standing against French tradition, which refuses to even identify minorities as such. As the son of a Hungarian immigrant and grandson of a Thessaloníki Jew, his views on integration carry particular conviction: Sarkozy says that he felt the burden of growing up as an outsider and struggled with "a foreign-sounding name." In office, he caused a stir by announcing that he was appointing a Muslim as préfet, the top state representative in regional departments. To some, this came off as an assault on the country's secular tradition, which enshrines in law the separation of church and state.

In short, Sarkozy argues, France needs to reinvent its social model in order to revive economic growth. His solution? Restore the work ethic by "proving that work pays," tightening up welfare rules, and lowering income taxes; encourage job creation in the private sector by loosening restrictions that curb hiring, such as the mandatory 35-hour workweek; and help control public spending and pay down the country's crippling debt by streamlining the bureaucracy. Sarkozy's economic liberalism has its limits, however: for one thing, he remains an avowed interventionist on industrial policy. And given the perilous state of French public finances, he may be overly optimistic about the prospects for cutting taxes. Yet, on balance, his ideas are both more daring and more coherent than those of any other mainstream French presidential candidate for years. "I'm not trying to be provocative for the sake of it," he writes, "but trying to wake people up in a way that's urgently needed."

BREAKING AWAY

Much of Sarkozy's analysis of contemporary France will fall on sympathetic ears in the United States and the United Kingdom. But what will French voters make of it? Are they ready for difficult reform and a president who promises to trim their privileges and shake them out of their comfort zone, let alone one who seeks a closer relationship with the United States? Sarkozy seems to think that his alternative line, a push for "a clean break" with the past that would involve some sacrifice, may be electorally credible because it distinguishes him from Chirac and his stagnant 12-year presidency.

The two men belong to the same political family, but their relationship has been complicated and tempestuous. As Sarkozy recalls in Testimony, it was Chirac who, as a Gaullist prime minister in 1975, called on Sarkozy, then a 20-year-old activist, to deliver his first party convention speech. Chirac became Sarkozy's political mentor, part father figure, part model. Like the young Chirac, Sarkozy was hyperactive and precocious: by the age of 28, he had been elected mayor of Neuilly-sur-Seine, a smart Paris suburb. And like Chirac throughout his career, Sarkozy has known when to seize opportunities to build up a local power base or secure control of his political party.

Confidence between the two men collapsed in 1995, after Sarkozy backed a Chirac rival in the presidential election. More recently, their relationship has been characterized by distrust rather than dislike. Chirac has tried to keep his one-time protégé at arm's length, but he has not managed to stop Sarkozy from taking control of the Union pour un Mouvement Populaire, the descendant of a party Chirac founded. And Sarkozy is now campaigning by denouncing the record of the president in whose government he has served since 2002. This is partly a tactical move: for electoral purposes, Sarkozy needs to be seen as different, and embracing a raft of policies that contradict those of the Chirac era enables him to do so. But Sarkozy's distancing is also partly about genuine differences of opinion. "We're not irritated by the same things. He gets irritated with liberalism, the Americans, certain CEOs, and people who disagree with him about Europe," Sarkozy writes of Chirac. "I get irritated by the lack of steadfastness, hesitation, un-kept promises, the refusal to see France as it is, and conventional wisdom." Above all, Sarkozy says, "he thinks France is fragile and resistant to change. I think France is impatient, exasperated by delays, and eager for profound change."

Sarkozy repeats this bold but questionable assertion throughout the book. "The French are not afraid of change. They're waiting for it," he claims. "It's politics that has gradually become sclerotic, predictable, and rigid over the past few years, not society." The French elite, he argues, has lost touch with ordinary people and underestimates their readiness to adapt. Sarkozy believes that it is the political class in Paris that is anti-American, not ordinary French people, who embrace American popular culture and American values. If French politicians tempered their own impulses and their rhetoric, Sarkozy's line goes, the French public would readily support less confrontational ties with its old transatlantic ally.