It’s easy to make the mistake of thinking that France is a left-wing country. I live in Paris on the marching route of the regular demonstrations – manifestations, known affectionately as manifs. On the radio on Saturday mornings, people wish each other “Bonne manif!”. The socialist François Hollande, favourite to win this spring’s presidential elections, says, “My adversary is finance.” He’s calling for a tax rate of 75 per cent on anyone (except possibly footballers) earning over €1m.
But socialism is only the French surface. Below that, a cabal of billionaires exerts a surprising grip. The French political scientist Patrick Weil says: “You have this country where the ideology is revolutionary and egalitarian. So owners of fortunes protect themselves through different means.” A glance at French media dispels the notion that France is a socialist republic.
When I read French newspapers, I’m usually impressed. Journalists here seem like academics who can write. But whereas American and British journalists aim to sell newspapers, and sometimes even to keep power honest, France has a different tradition. French media have historically been in bed with power, writes Jean Quatremer in his excellent new book Sexe, mensonges et médias. Cardinal Richelieu, King Louis XIII’s chief minister, wrote about himself under a pseudonym for France’s only newspaper. Later Napoleon did much the same thing.