[translated by myself; clarifications or corrections welcome]
Presidential elections: a marionnettes show
The four principal candidates for the presidential election are partisans of rupture. None announce themselves as part of a continuity. None dare post a track record. And why! Of the four, only Jean-Marie Le Pen at least has coherence going for him. In the case of rupture, he has been lauding it since the creation of the Front National, over thirty-five years ago. Yet for a track record, he doesn’t have one, since he’s never been in power. But the others!
M. Sarkozy is the heir of RPR["Rassemblement pour la République"], of whom its glorious jewel, Jacques Chirac, has vigorously massacred France’s chances throughout his forty years of political life. Mme Royal is the heir to the socialist party, of whom their glorious jewel, François Mitterrand, plunged France into the chaos of deficits, debt, economic collapse, uncontrolled immagration and moral perversion since that party was created thirty six years ago and their first party leader became president of the Republic twenty six years ago. As for M. Bayrou, he is the heir of Union for french democracy [UDF, "Union pour la Démocratie Française"], created thirty three years ago for supporting the actions of its glorious jewel, Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, who, in order to guard our nation against socialism, judged it prudent to hurry towards it, just like the fool who throws himself into water in order not to get wet.
Therefore, each being the inheritors, whether they want it or not, of disastrous track records, M. Sarkozy, Mme Royal and M. Bayrou ask us to believe they are capable of a rupture that nothing in their pasts has made the least bit predicted. At least if they had a program! But no, nothing. Roaring words but empty of sense, unrealizable promises without any actual break with the economic, fiscal and social system that strangles France for the last third of a century, in short, just hot air. And it seems that the presidential campaign enthralls the French. Have we become this people without memory that Tocqueville had once perceived when he said that "in a democracy, each generation is a new nation"? It truly seems so.
Yet [,consider this]. There is conscious memory, and there is that which, huddled up within the deepest depths of the cortex, shelters remembrances both sorrowful and grandiose, the craziest of hopes and the most ancestral of fears, the unappeased desires and the most violent impulses. And it is this memory that waits to deliver its terrible exhalations, just as it always had in previous centuries when the nation was in danger.
Therefore, our candidates for the presidential election are but marionnettes in a scenario that overtakes them. When the great breath of history blows over our country, from the inmost depths of the people must rise a man or woman in whom France may recognize itself and to whom France will confide its destinies. For a limited time only, of course; for the rule demands this time once more that the savior is to be dismissed as soon as their mission is fulfilled, so that the people may once again danse a jig of regained happiness and unconcerned joy.
What can you do, happy people have no history. It is true everywhere, even in a nation with a history such as ours, at the same time glorious and tragic, and who primes itself to invest itself with new dramas that their leaders, unconsciously, have so well prepared for them.
Glory, therefore, to the next elected leader of the nation. If they knew what was in store for them, they would flee as fast as their legs could take them. Yet our political class, because they have appropriated for themselves the monopoly of popular representation and have therefore sheltered themselves from every true sanction, for such a long time now, can no longer even know that actions have consequences. A few decades ago, there was a theatrical play that became very successful. It was called "La facture" ["The bill"]. It seems that, together, we are prepared to reenact it. And this time no one will find it funny.
[The play Mr. Reichman refers to is a comedy about a woman that everybody likes, so well in fact that she fears the day she feels she will receive "the bill" for her good fortune.]