Political dynamo

Date: 05/09/1996

EDITH Cresson is known outside France primarily for being the country's first woman prime minister and for two off-the-cuff remarks.

Cresson is no civil servant. But she does possess something that the European Commission increasingly needs - a political touch.

In the Seventies, Cresson rose through the hierarchy of the Socialist Party to become a national secretary for youth, then executive member, mayor and member of the European Parliament.

She was minister for agriculture in President François Mitterrand's first government from 1981 to 1983, then dealt with trade and industry from 1983 to 1986 and headed up European affairs from 1988 to 1990 before resigning disillusioned and going back to industry, where she started out.

But Mitterrand soon called her back to revive the flagging fortunes of his Socialist government in 1990.

When he chose Cresson to replace Michel Rocard as prime minister, Mitterrand did so because he thought she could energise the French people, unlike the technocratic Rocard.

Her spell at the Hôtel Matignon was, however, notoriously marked by disagreements within the government, a plunge in the Socialist Party's popularity which almost saw it wiped out in the 1993 legislative elections and a series of gaffes.

An interview Cresson had given to the British Sunday newspaper The Observer in 1987 but which had never been published, was released as she took over the premiership. It had been a wide-ranging discussion about life, the universe and everything.

However, she both outraged and amused the British by claiming that the reason many men preferred male company in 'Anglo-Saxon' societies was because one in four were homosexuals.

More seriously, when she was prime minister Cresson made her opinions about Japanese society and in defence of the European social model rather too clear for diplomatic comfort.

“I said they were working like ants,” she told US broadcaster ABC. “We cannot live like that, in miniscule apartments with a two-hour journey to work. Work and work and work and producing children to work like animals. We want to keep our social security, our holidays and live like human beings.”

As the government limped from one problem to another, Mitterrand finally succumbed and appointed the late Pierre Bérégovoy to replace Cresson in 1992.

She left politics and once again returned to industry but, just as in 1990, her stay was short-lived.

Mitterrand soon needed an ally in the Commission to counterbalance the appointment of Yves-Thibault de Silguy, a close adviser to Gaullist Prime Minister Edouard Balladur. The Conservative Balladur fought her appointment, but failed to defeat Mitterrand.

When Jacques Chirac arrived at the Elysée last year, it came as a surprise to many in the Commission to see how well she got on with him.

The two were colleagues on the European Parliament's agriculture committee back in the late Seventies and have kept their relationship intact. Politically, they are very different, but personally they are on the same

wavelength. “Neither of them speak the bureaucratic langue de bois,” explains one aide.

Cresson's compatriot, Economics Commissioner Yves-Thibault de Silguy, has not been so lucky. Although he was the candidate of the right, he was the appointee of Chirac's friend-turned-foe, Edouard Balladur.

“He is still considered a Balladurien, whether this is justified or not. For this reason, he was shunned by Chirac and his advisers. It is a bit better for him now but ironically, for a long time, she had better relations with the Elysée,” says one observer.

For the same reasons that she gets on well with Chirac, Cresson's relations with De Silguy have been strained.

He is a typical French civil servant, educated at the infamous Ecole Nationale d'Administration, and was Balladur's heir apparent. She has been a politician all her life and had to fight a series of elections to get to the levers of power.

When they both arrived at the Commission in early 1995, Cresson lobbied hard to become one of the Commission's two vice-presidents. As a former prime minister and an obvious candidate of the left, she felt that her cause was strong.

But De Silguy lobbied against her behind the scenes, fearing this would give her power over him. There were even suggestions that he voted against her and for Manuel Marín. Ever since, say colleagues, the two have maintained a coexistence froide.

When Cresson arrived in Brussels, it came as a surprise to some that a former premier of a major state with a high political profile had opted for one of the

EU's least 'sexy' portfolios - research. But, as a former industry minister, Cresson has long been interested in the question of why European firms are less capable than their US counterparts of translating their innovative skills into products they can sell.

“She often feels that SMEs and industries do not put their views across enough in Brussels,” says a colleague. “When she was a minister and companies came to her complaining about what Brussels had done or not done, she would tell them to go there themselves and defend their position.”

During meetings of the Commission college, Cresson puts her case forcefully but tends to concentrate either on her own dossiers or on matters of high political interest.

Recently, she threw her weight behind the formation of a European research action plan to look into mad cow disease and strongly opposed the lifting of the world-wide ban on exports of UK beef derivatives.

Cresson's intimates say she has lost little of her deft political touch, citing her championing of the idea of voluntary service as a recent example.

In the face of much scepticism within the Commission services, she fought for the idea of funding exchanges between young people to carry out social work in areas of deprivation in different member states.

A pilot project which aims to send 2,500 teenagers across national borders has already been set up with a budget of 15 million ecu for 1996. If it succeeds, Cresson will press for a multi-annual programme with a bigger budget to benefit tens of thousands of youngsters. The idea is to create a counterweight to the Erasmus scheme, which encourages the exchange of students.

Cresson emphasises again and again that the service should not become the domain of graduates, but should concentrate on young working-class people.

“It is a great political idea and it is completely outside what this place normally does. When she has gone, it will not be the Fifth Framework Programme that people will remember her for. If this works, it will be this that will remain,” says one colleague.

Before she accepted the new job in the Commission, Cresson checked whether she could carry on as mayor of Châtellerault, a small town of 40,000 south of Tours. Had this been refused, she might have thought twice.

She had to fight to win the mayorship in 1983. It had long been a right-wing bastion and she won it for the Socialist Party having lost a by-election in the area seven years earlier.

Her colleagues all attest to how comfortable she is when she returns to Châtellerault. “It is amazing really,” said one. “When she walks down the street, people stop her all the time to talk to her. She seems to thrive there.”

Cresson feels the same about Brussels as many of her fellow Commissioners - it will never be home. She has a house there, but returns most weekends to Châtellerault or Paris.

Like several Commissioners, she is not a details fanatic. She does not settle down for a whole day and a night with a pile of files and work her way through them.

“She is not like that. She's a political animal. What she likes is to talk to people and to listen to them - both those inside and those outside the Commission - and see who can come forward with the best ideas.”

She is also known as a demanding boss. Having had to endure the obstructionism of the French civil service throughout her working life, Cresson is intolerant of what she sees as bureaucratic inertia. Procedural excuses for failing to carry out orders are not accepted.

Ironically, however, she is happier at the Commission than she was as prime minister. “She has much more autonomy than she did at the Matignon and new ideas have a better chance of being carried out.”