Living in France with the French as they go thru, at the lowest pitch, their Blair / Thatcher years and at a higher pitch the prototyping, the starting up of a steadier, saner, more people-friendly, ecologically (which means digitally) savvy Europe is a piece of luck. I wouldn’t wish to live anywhere else right now (except Paris!).
Macron, like Trump, is a post-modern ruler. By post-modern I mean a clean sweep over university dominated, thoughtful, seminar based government into flash-of-enlightenment, nimble footed media outflanking and betting the farm on enough weight of popular mass following you through the gap.
But Macron is intelligent enough, more than enough, to understand you can’t rule France like America (even tho for immigrants like me France is Europe’s America). Clearly Macron’s ambition is to prove that in ruling France he is capable of ruling Europe. I wish him luck, not having a vote I can afford to be neutral for a while. I enjoy his spectacle.
Both Trump and Macron are trouble-makers, perturbers, risk-takers but while Trump, typically of certain Americans, wears his wackiness on his sleeve, Macron, proudly wearing what suits him, deploys language not in 147 character snaps but in penetrating, wide ranging, intelligent discourse. And in France language is still respected, people still think that talking to each other as citizens is valuable in itself and vital for a sense both of home and future.
Macron’s vision (his wager?) is that the two lashing tails, the right and left of the popular dragon with its stock of crude, indeed cruel, stereotypes of bankers and blacks, will curl into place when he gets the radical structural reforms he wants under the current constitution. I am reminded of LBJ as Senate majority leader, according to Robert Caro, when he had the political genius to see what use could be made of the place, even under the old rules.
The only problem with vision is that it only depends on you, the concrete needs others. Watching Macron in a stunning series of Mediapart transmissions I recalled times in my cannabis charged youth I could illuminate my glum companions with a word picture that brought them into helpfulness. But it never went further than that, somehow the day to day business of living seemed to be too absorbing to lay aside for the illuminations. The lights stayed out.