Funhouse at Versailles

Trump needs to take a close look in the mirror, but in just one and preferably while at home alone. He doesn’t need to see himself in over 350 of them in the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles while accompanied by French President Emmanuel Macron and the media. When Macron regaled Trump with a state visit at the palace after the G7 summit in Evian, he thought he was exercising soft power in regaining Trump’s respect after a tumultuous start to his second term.

But Trump has already thrown more cold water than in Evian on that prospect. It’s unlikely he’ll remove his tariffs on French imports or re-engage the United States with France and the European Union and NATO. Trump is all too willing to drop allies and supporters in a heartbeat when it suits him. That’s because there’s a long line of sycophants ready to take their place. On that note, Versailles is actually a befitting place to take someone who acts like French kings once did.

To Macron’s credit, Versailles was not a bad choice for venue this time since he’s already feted Trump in Paris before. The Arc de Triomphe was so impressive that Trump now wants a similar arch in Washington. The Eiffel Tower might have fared less well, it being a triumph of science, and Trump hasn’t shown much interest in triumphing science lately. However, he was perfectly happy to attend the re-opening of Notre Dame cathedral even if his preferred house of worship is the White House where the guests come to worship him.

Macron has also taken Trump to the military parade on Bastille Day. This time around, Macron should have taken Trump instead to eponymous square in Paris, a sure reminder that the people who are unhappy with their leader can rise up at any moment and demand blood. (An even better reminder is at the Place de la Concorde where the most heads fell to the guillotine during the Revolution.) General Lafayette even gave the keys to the Bastille prison to his old protégé and wartime hero, George Washington. As if there could be a better reminder of the 250 years of Franco-American friendship.

Or why not take Trump to the Place de la République as some on the French left called for? At least there, Trump could marvel at the very symbol of the French republic, Marianne, perched high up looking out upon her the citizens. She reminds us that France today is indeed a republic, no longer a kingdom or an empire. By bringing Trump to Versailles, Macron took the opposite track, vainly flattering the president of the United States with forms of grandeur America was never designed to have. In fact, it fought for independence from precisely that old form of government. Not that Trump likely picked up on this lesson. The Hall of Mirrors has a way of not only magnifying the look of things but also distorting them. Macron hosted Trump at Versailles today, not at a chateau, but a funhouse.

Glass Houses

It’s pretty easy to mock the French government right now. Sébastien Lecornu was prime minister for barely a month. By the time he named all the members of his cabinet, it collapsed fourteen hours later and broke another record of shortest-lived French governments.

Lecornu’s immediate predecessor had lost a confidence vote over his budget proposals and the “Block Everything” social movement that opposed them. Lecornu fared no better. He was just the latest in line—eighth to be exact—of prime ministers under President Emmanuel Macron whose legitimacy is disappearing as quickly as members of his party. Then parliament had a sense of déjà vu when Macron promptly reappointed Lecornu as prime minister. How long the Lecornu II government will last is anyone’s guess.

The American press is right to call it political chaos, crisis, deadlock, disarray, impasse, turmoil, so on and so on. Yet never has the expression about people in glass houses throwing stones been more appropriate. Members of the Congress have shut the United States government down once again.  

While both the French and American political circumstances stem from fights over the national budget in their respective legislatures, only the US government actually shut down. This curtails services provided by Federal agencies as well as the pay of their employees. Members of Congress, ironically, still get paid even when they don’t work toward a compromise or anything else.

In France, however, the government continues to operate and public employees still get paid for their work while political battles play out. That doesn’t mean France can continue to ignore its budget approval process. But the country’s public service and citizens are not hostage to any party’s political scores. Meanwhile the US is on its eleventh government shutdown in history, the last three of which have been under Donald Trump. And like the situation in France, the end of the US government shutdown is anyone’s guess.

Americans can blame the shutdown on whomever they want but it might help instead to look to how other countries face a budgetary crisis. The French government is definitely in one, but at least it’s still open. And though Americans don't have a parliamentary system, they could still demand the impeachment—a vote of no confidence of sorts—of any president or lawmaker willing to shut the US government down. In the very least, they shouldn’t think their political leaders are somehow more righteous than French ones.

Benjamin Franklin is credited with publishing a variation of “people in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones.” The origins of the adage trace back even further to the 14th century to Chaucer’s Troilus and Criseyde. Written in Middle English, the poem uses the word of French origin for glass, verre, since it rhymed with werre, also from Old French meaning war or conflict: “And for-thy, who that hath an heed of verre, Fro cast of stones war him in the werre!” Flash forward to the 20th century, Billy Joel released an album titled Glass Houses whose cover featured the singer about to throw a stone at a glass house, his own in fact. (The album also features a song in French, C’était toi.) The original message about hypocrisy may have given way to one about real danger.

Indeed, throwing proverbial stones has already gotten Americans, Democrats and Republicans alike, into enough serious trouble. Perhaps it’s time for them to build a more solid house than one made of glass.

A Christmas miracle for the French government

Emmanuel Macron promised a new government by December 25 and it was nothing short of a Christmas miracle. When Macron dissolved the National Assembly back in June, he gambled that voter dissatisfaction would translate into more representatives in the lower house of parliament from his own party. Macron took a page right out of the playbook of France’s historical strongmen—Napoleon, Louis Napoleon, Mac Mahon, de Gaulle—who similarly turned to voters for support of their initiatives. At least Macron followed the constitution when he called for fresh elections. Many questioned the wisdom of his choice. With just a little over two years until his final term ends, time’s running out for Macron to turn around public opinion and assure a positive legacy to his presidency.

It was a gamble that didn’t pay. Instead of returning more representatives to expand support for his policies, the center caved in. Marine Le Pen’s far-right party sent the highest number of representatives to the National Assembly in a first for the Fifth Republic. Macron responded by naming a prime minister from the more moderate right, Michel Barnier, who appealed to no one. The left and far-left parties, which also saw gains in the latest legislative elections, were furious for not getting more seats at the council of ministers’ table. When a budget bill came up in the chamber last month, they called for a vote of no confidence in the prime minister. With no majority party backing him, Barnier became the shortest-serving prime minister of the Fifth Republic, another historical first.

Is Macron chastened by the whole affair? Perhaps, but it doesn’t show. A returning cast of characters, most of whom are seasoned public officials, including François Bayrou, the new prime minister. Also joining the government are some holdovers from the current cabinet. The French ‘government’ is roughly analogous to the American president’s administration. And by comparison, what’s transpiring in France at least demonstrates a certain strength of the French constitution. It has withstood the machinations of a president whose ambition tops his skill. And although it looks like the government has a revolving door of ministers in the late Macron presidency, it’s a least a door to a representative government.

Meanwhile, Americans are gearing up for a new presidential cabinet that’s beginning to look more like a country club. Trump’s picks so far include fellow billionaires whose ideals of public service are how to make the public work for the private sector. No government experience necessary seems like the surest qualification. Not even ethics violations or criminal allegations are a problem. So long as you can pay to play, and play up to Trump’s ego, you’ve got a shot at being one of the president’s men or women. And let’s face it, it’s mostly men.

The process by which Trump is planning to get who he wants in the administration is questionable, but also constitutional. Even if he uses recess appointments to get around any senators who merely suggest questioning the qualifications of his nominees, it passes constitutional muster. But it’s not representative of the American people. The incoming Trump administration will be a crew more at home at Mar-a-Lago, or prison, than in the White House.

In France, the new government might not be perfect. And with any luck, it’ll last at least until next Christmas. However, it represents the French people better than what Americans can expect in the next Trump administration.