A romantic driven by the memory of Napoleon

By Adam Sage

Daily News, February 18, 2003

President Chirac’s first term of office was a grave disappointment to him. Here he was, the Gaullist chieftain, forced to cohabit with a left-wing Government that had reduced la France to a bit part on the world stage, its foreign policy embodied by the dull, anonymous Hubert Védrine.

So when M Chirac was re-elected last spring, he wanted to put an end to the ignominy. France, he decided, would resume its natural role, shaping history, imposing its voice and its values, even if that meant antagonising its allies. The man to spearhead the change, as Foreign Minister was to be his most trusted adviser, Dominique Galouzeau de Villepin.

Behind the career diplomat lurked the sort of adventurer that the President thought he needed. M de Villepin, 49, believes that France lives up to its historic grandeur whenever it is led by men (there is rarely mention of women) of vision, intelligence and courage. He sees himself in this mould.

His mission at the Foreign Ministry was to bury the grey Védrine years and raise the French profile across the world. It would be an understatement to say that he has been successful.

On Monday, for instance, it was with trepidation that his European Union counterparts greeted him in Brussels as they prepared for the meeting of heads of state and government on Iraq. This was an occasion for tact and diplomacy not qualities for which M de Villepin has become known.

No, his model is Napoleon Bonaparte, his quest is for glory and his belief is in swift, decisive action. The crisis over Iraq has given he an opportunity to try out his philosophy.

In an acclaimed book on Napoleon’s last 100 days in power, Les Cent-Jours, he says that France is never greater than when fighting the odds against a more powerful opponent. To him, the clash with the United States is just that.

Last week, in the United Nations Security Council, he won rare applause for an intervention in opposition to the United States that drew upon the full scope of his talents. In a reference to a comment from Donald Rumsfeld, the US Defence Secretary, who had dismissed France and Germany as being part of “old Europe”, M de Villepin said that he was from an “old country”, one that had known “war, occupation, barbarity”, one that was standing up for what it thought was right.

He used much the same language to describe Napoleon in Les Cent-Jours and it is a language that strikes a chord among compatriots who have been quick to celebrate M de Villepin’s triumphs. Commentators have begun to talk about him as a possible successor to M Chirac.

Yet scratch the surface and concerns emerge. Critics in Paris say that he is a gambler who never knows when to cut his losses. Some say that he is so deeply ensconced in Napoleonic legend that he has lost touch with reality. They are worried that he will inflict irrevocable damage on transatlantic relations.

Many point out that it was M de Villepin who convinced M Chirac to call a snap election in 1997, which went disastrously wrong when the Left triumphed. M de Villepin has never admitted that the early election was a mistake.

Even by the standards of a French governing class that is never short on self-confidence, M de Villepin is deemed to be arrogant. A product of the Ecole Nationale d’Administration, the training ground for the country’s elite, he is also a poet who has paid for his works to be published.

He treats senior members of M Chirac’s centre-right coalition with contempt and often describes his collaborators in the Foreign Ministry as inept. Some of the brightest brains in the French Civil Service have even been told that they are “connards” an insult usually reserved for football stadiums.

At weekends he frequently deserts his wife, Marie-Laure, and their three children and summons his subordinates for meetings at the Foreign Ministry, where he arrives dressed in a blue blazer, Gucci shoes and a Ralph Lauren shirt.

In Ivory Coast, where he has been trying to impose a peace settlement, local leaders say he speaks to them in haughty colonialist tones. They say that his attitude is in part responsible for the difficulties that there have been in implementing the French peace plan.

Yet M de Villepin is undaunted and is preparing for the future. Although he has never stood in any election, he has let it be known that he may be interested in high office. Two months ago, in Marseilles, he even deigned to shake the hands of ordinary people during a walkabout.

“Of course, we were shaking ten hands when he was shaking one,” Renaud Muselier, the Junior Foreign Minister and local MP, said.

‘Glory whatever happens’

In his book Les Cent-Jours, Dominique de Villepin recounts Napoleon Bonaparte’s return from exile on the island of Elba, his triumphant march across France and final defeat by the Duke of Wellington. The book enshrines the Foreign Minister’s hopes and ideals. Take his account of Waterloo, a battle inexplicably won by the English: “And yet this defeat shines with an aura worthy of victory. The final opus of the unfinished symphony of the greatest military composer ever, it only just failed to turn to France’s advantage.” He adds: “This Napoleon has carried, ever since his fall, a certain idea of France, a superior vision of politics.” He describes Napoleon’s philosophy in these terms: “Victory or death, but glory whatever happens.” —The Times