After the Cahuzac scandal, the Hollande presidency is in tatters

France's Socialist president has failed to deliver - and in record time.

Barely ten months after his election, François Hollande is a lame duck President. He is even more unpopular than Nicolas Sarkozy was at the same stage of the presidency. The French people elected him in May 2012 because they had had enough with Sarkozy’s right-wing politics which deeply divided the nation. They wanted change. Hollande’s austerity policies and his alignment on Angela Merkel’s positions in Europe have dramatically failed to make a difference so far.The majority of the population even feels that there is a troubling continuity with Sarkozysm on major policy areas such as employment, pensions, benefits, wages, not to mention the neo-colonial war waged by French troops in Mali.

Now, the Hollande presidency is in tatters. A state scandal is threatening to engulf Hollande and the Socialist government. The person responsible for the crisis is Jérôme Cahuzac, who was the Budget Minister until two weeks ago. For the past few months, Cahuzac had been accused of having used a secret Swiss bank account to avoid paying taxes in France. Those allegations were made by Mediapart, an investigative website run by Edwy Plenel, a former editor-in-chief for Le Monde newspaper. The accusations were repeatedly denied by Cahuzac before the President, the Prime Minister,the members of parliament and various media. On 2 April, Cahuzac suddenly admitted to a judge that he hid €600,000 (£510,000) offshore for over twenty years. He was immediately placed under formal investigation for laundering the proceeds of tax fraud by French justice. Hollande appeared on national television the next day and said that Cahuzac’s actions were an "unforgivable moral error".

This dramatic development could not have happened at a worst time for a beleaguered President, nor could the trouble have come from one of the most sensitive departments in government. Indeed, as Budget Minister, Cahuzac was the man in charge of fighting tax evasion. He was also responsible for leading a crusade against tax heavens on behalf of the French State. He had the task of streamlining the budget and running the government’s crackdown on rich people who would be made to pay more taxes. When two weeks ago Cahuzac resigned, Hollande applauded his decision to "better defend his honour". For Hollande and Jean-Marc Ayrault – Hollande’s Prime Minister – it is a no-win situation. If they now acknowledge that they had misgivings about Cahuzac’s probity, they would be held responsible. Thus, they can only claim that they knew nothing about the scandal. In the best case scenario, the executive comes across as weak and indecisive.

Hollande, Ayrault and Socialist members of parliament have tried hard to downplay the whole Cahuzac episode. They argue that it is a personal betrayal and the story only poses a "moral issue". In truth, the Cahuzac scandal has only marginally to do with the dishonesty of a man. It is much more than the sad personification of the "bastard" as defined by Jean-Paul Sartre. No, the Cahuzac swindle also exposes political manipulations and lies at the heart of the Hollande presidency. It truly is a state scandal which creates a political crisis whose political ramifications will be multiple and hard to predict.

Who is Jérôme Cahuzac? This 60 year-old man was a cardiologist who became a plastic surgeon specialising in hair transplants. In this new profession, the disgraced minister amassed a large personal fortune. Cahuzac comes from the self-professed neoliberal/Blairite wing of the Socialist Party. In a recent television debate with Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the leader of the Left Front, he haughtily conceded that never in his thirty-year long career in the Socialist Party, he had "believed in class struggle". When Ayrault appointed him to the government, several party officials warned the Prime Minister that this was a hazardous decision. Arrogant and briskwith his colleagues, Cahuzac belongs to a breed of "Socialists" that ignores virtually everything of the travails of the electorate who brought Hollande to power last year. What is more, Cahuzac was in government the zealous promoter of the harshest austerity policies that France has ever experienced since the end of the Second World War. Here is a man who not only lectured the public about fraud evasion while being a fraudster himself, but who was also responsible for implementing and monitoring unfair and pointless economic policies – such as his target of reducing France’s public deficit to 3 per cent - which inflicted unnecessary suffering on the worst off in society.

Until the New York sex scandal which put an end to his political career, Cahuzac was a "Strausskahnian", i.e. a close and devoted political ally of Dominique Strauss-Kahn. The two "Socialists" shared the same lavish and insouciant lifestyle and the same taste for laissez-faire economics. Both men were friendly with the rich and powerful and bothentertained dubious relationships in the political world. Mediapart has revealed that Philippe Péninque was the person who discretely opened Cahuzac’s bank account in Switzerland in 1992. Péninque used to be a member of Groupe Union Défense (GUD), a violent student union on the extreme right. He is currently a close friend and confident of Marine Le Pen.

Hollande’s responsibility is here clearly engaged as it should have been clear from the start that Cahuzac’s appointment was politically hazardous. A cabinet minister recently revealed that Cahuzac was responsible for messing up the handling of the tax bill on very high earners - the "75 per cent tax" on people earning over €1 million. Warned that some provisions in the bill might be censored by the Constitutional Council, Cahuzac opted to go ahead with it. The bill indeed ended up being censored by the French Supreme Court. Only days ago, Cahuzac was still presented in Socialist circles as the paragon of "good governance" and as a ‘competent and brilliant minister’. How was it possible to appoint such a man to a Socialist cabinet in the first place?

One may put the question to Pierre Moscovici, the Minister of Finance. After Cahuzac’s exit, Moscovici is the last "Strausskahnian" left in government. One of the rare Blair admirers in France, Moscovici now stands accused by Mediapart of having used the State apparatus to try to whitewash his political friend. Weeks ago, Moscovici declared that he had inquired to the Swiss banking institutions about Cahuzac’s secret account and that he was satisfied that no such account existed.

The Cahuzac scandal is well and truly essentially a political scandal. This episode involves a caste of politicians who have completely let down the people who elected them. Some thought that they were untouchable. After ten months in office, this Socialist government has already turned its back on the needs and aspirations of the working people.

Philippe Marlière is professor of French politics at University College London. He tweets @PhMarliere

The French president François Hollande (2nd left), followed by prime minister Jean-Marc Ayrault and the former budget minister Jerome Cahuzac. (Photo: Getty.)
ROBERTO SCHMIDT/AFP/Getty Images
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Unlikely sisters in the Gaza Strip

A former Jewish settler in Gaza recalls her childhood friendship with a young Palestinian.

It was well after midnight, one summer night in 1995, when Inbar Rozy, a 13-year-old living in the former Israeli settlement of Alei Sinai in the northern Gaza Strip, heard her parents answer the phone. Sitting up in bed, surrounded by potted plants, candles and fairy dolls lit by shafts of light from a nearby security outpost, Inbar listened closely.

“I could hear everyone talking around me, making calls,” Inbar said when we met recently in Nitzan, southern Israel. When she got up to find out what was happening, her parents told her to make up a second mattress. As dawn broke, they led into the room a young woman carrying a small bag and wearing a black shirt and jeans. “She had shoulder-length dark hair dyed with red henna and beautiful eyes – big, black with thick eyelashes,” Inbar told me, smiling. “[She was] quiet. She looked scared.”

The woman was Rina (her surname cannot be given for security reasons), a talented artist in her early twenties studying at a local art college, where she had fallen in love with a Christian boy. For Rina, coming from a traditional family, marrying a non-Muslim would be strictly forbidden.

When her parents found out, they were furious and forbade her from seeing her boyfriend. But her male cousins felt this wasn’t enough. Earlier on the day the girls first met, Rina’s cousins had attempted to kill her in retribution for her perceived “honour crime”. Seeing that another attempt on her life was likely, Rina’s father called a relative, who in turn called Inbar’s father, Yossef, a friend of many years. There was no doubt she had to leave. Ironically, a Jewish settlement protected by the Israel Defence Forces was the safest place in Gaza for her to be.

In 1967, Israel seized the Gaza Strip from Egypt during the Six Day War. In time, it settled 21 communities on a third of the land, with a population of 8,000 by 2005. Soldiers guarded the settlements from 1.5 million displaced Palestinians, tens of thousands of whom were displaced in 1967 and moved to live in nearby refugee camps. In Gaza, before Israel’s ultimate withdrawal from the Strip in 2005, relationships between Israeli settlers and Palestinians were fraught. True, many Palestinians worked in Israeli settlements, earning wages higher than elsewhere in the Strip, but the two communities lived largely separate lives.

In the mid-1990s, even after the Oslo Accords, violence was simmering. Israeli military incursions increased with the outbreak of the Second Intifada in 2000. Thousands of home-made Qassam rockets were launched by Palestinian militants at settlers and those living in southern Israel. Security measures hardened. The veteran Israeli journalist Amira Hass, who spent several years living in Gaza, describes neighbourhoods that were “turned into jails behind barbed-wire fences, closed gates, IDF surveillance, tanks and entry-permit red tape”.

And yet, in spite of the forced segregation, Inbar’s family enjoyed close links with their Palestinian neighbours. Inbar’s father worked as an ambulance driver, and on several occasions he helped transport those who lived nearby for emergency medical treatment in Israel. “Every Tuesday, my father’s Jewish and Arab friends would come to our house and we’d eat lunch together,” Inbar remembered.

Given the gravity of Rina’s situation, she couldn’t leave the house. Secrecy was paramount. The girls spent weeks together indoors, Inbar said, chatting, watching TV and drawing. “I’m not sure that as a child I actually understood it for real,” she said. “She taught me how to paint and sketch a face from sight.”

Almost as soon as Rina arrived, Inbar’s family began receiving anonymous phone calls asking about her. “My dad told me, ‘Don’t mention anything about Rina. Say you don’t know what they’re talking about – because otherwise they’ll come and kill us,’” Inbar said.

While the girls got to know each other, Inbar’s mother, Brigitte, found a women’s shelter in East Jerusalem for Rina. Whereas today Gaza is closed off by a military border under heavy surveillance, at that time it was porous. Brigitte drove Rina in to the capital, where she was given a new name and identity that would enable her to begin a new life, on condition that she contact no one in Gaza.

Today Inbar, who is 33, works at the Gush Katif centre in Nitzan – a museum dedicated to the memory of the Israeli settlements in Gaza. Despite her parents’ objections, the family was evacuated in 2005. Unlike most settlers in Gaza, some residents of Alei Sinai were determined to stay on, even if that meant forfeiting their Israeli citizenship. “I have no problem with living as a minority in a Palestinian state,” one of Alei Sinai’s inhabitants, Avi Farhan, told the Israeli daily Haaretz at the time.

Inbar now lives in Ashkelon, a city of 140,000 in southern Israel, and finds the big city alienating, especially when she recalls the warm relationships that once existed in Gaza. “I’ve never felt less secure,” she told me.

Years later, she learned that Rina had developed cancer and died. “The day before Rina left . . . she drew a portrait of me,” she said, describing how her friend had outlined, in charcoal strokes, the features of the teenager. Her parents packed the portrait with all their belongings in a shipping container the day they left Gaza. Soon after, the container was destroyed in a fire.

“I think if people had given it a chance . . . they would have had these kinds of friendships,” Inbar said, looking back. “We’d get along fairly well if we didn’t look at others as the monsters over the wall.” 

This article first appeared in the 27 August 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Isis and the new barbarism