The French exception: Still defended

Date: 19/07/03

Why it is hard for French governments to fight against performing artists

WHEN Jean-Marie Messier, the ousted former head of Vivendi Universal, declared in 2001 that the “French cultural exception is dead”, it marked the day the French establishment turned on him. The media mogul, who turned a French water-utility company into a Hollywood-to-mobile-phones conglomerate, had touched too raw a nerve. In France, the idea that culture is precious and fragile and so needs careful protection goes unchallenged. So why does President Jacques Chirac now appear to be undoing a critical element of the French cultural exception by facing down striking theatre workers?

The strikes by part-time theatrical performers and back-stage technicians have led to the cancellation of many summer festivals, including the two biggest, in Avignon and Aix-en-Provence. As Bernard Faivre d'Arcier, director of the Avignon one, points out, this event was not cancelled even in 1968. “A unique cultural movement is now in question,” says Jack Lang, a Socialist former culture minister.

The artists' complaint is about proposed changes to their unemployment regime, which currently entitles them to 12 months of benefits for working 507 hours (little more than three months' worth for most workers) a year. Over the past decade, the number of such part-timers has doubled, thanks to the proliferation of state-supported performers as well as to benefit fraud by television and show-business companies. Jean-Pierre Raffarin, the prime minister, may not look too concerned about cutting public spending, but he knows that reform is needed, as he has demonstrated over pensions.

However, these two rival aspirations - to curb public spending and to appear to uphold the French cultural exception - conflict. Mr Raffarin may be from the centre-right, which is far less tolerant of state support for clowns or fringe theatre. But he is fully aware that France's cultural policy has both popular support and a long tradition. In February, Mr Chirac explained it thus: “The artist gives to life, as to the world, flavour, sense and beauty. Mirror to mankind, he decodes his soul. Witness to his history, he embodies his revolt against the absurdities of his time, his quest for a better world.”

Contrast that with a recent comment by Britain's culture minister, Tessa Jowell: “The UK has some of the most talented and exciting artists and sports stars and vibrant creative and leisure industries in the world. They contribute massively to our economy and prosperity.” In sum, French culture nourishes the soul, while Britain's contributes to its export earnings.

But could the current conflict with the artists not perhaps help the government? France has just managed to keep a cultural veto in the draft of a constitution for Europe - “a very great victory”, said Mr Chirac this week. It wants to defend the “cultural exception” in the upcoming talks on liberalising world trade. And it now faces an upswelling of complaint: this week, 650 artists, including Bertrand Tavernier, a film director, and Gerard Depardieu, an actor, wrote to Mr Chirac bemoaning the attack on state support for culture. In the face of such domestic protest, the French government can hardly be expected to make too many compromises abroad.

Why is it hard for French governments to fights against Performing artists?