Paris

ON THE WORLD TODAY

IT WILL be years before the full story of how France emerged from war can be written into history. But the best-informed observers believe that what has already taken shape, together with the signs of things to come, constitutes enough evidence to justify even now an estimate of the new France.

The coming Fourth Republic will be firmer in political structure than its predecessor. It will be a parliamentary democracy but will be controlled by parties farther to the left than those in power before the war. The new state will plan much of its economy but will retain private enterprise. Its agriculture will be increasingly coöperative but not collectivized. Its foreign policy will seek friendly relations with Great Britain and Italy.

In sum, post-war France will be precisely the state to be expected of a logical, orderly people who know how to live well and who conceive of their country as a bridge between the totalitarianism of the East and the democracy of the West.

But the outstanding characteristic of present-day France is apathy. The people are tired out from the war and disappointed by the realization that liberation does not mean prompt luxury. They have not been offered stimulation, encouragement, or the hope of a bold, specific program for reconstruction. France’s revival will be a matter of slow growth rather than a springing to full stature.

The black market and the brown blight of armies lie heavily on the land. Petty thievery and unpoliced prostitution are widespread. It is easier to make a lazy living than to find a real job in the maze of unemployment and bureaucracy. If the situation is permitted to persist, it could result in the end of a great power and world empire, and could reduce France to the level of Portugal.

But that opinion is uttered in a spirit of warning rather than as prophecy. It is not fair to condemn the French on the basis of their attitude today, after all they have endured. Moreover, there has been an improvement in recent months.

The vote

There had been sufficient testing of public opinion at the polls, even before the national election of October 21, to show, in terms that can be measured, how France stands politically. Apathy has spread even among the politically-minded French. During the cantonal elections of September 23, when the country selected general councils corresponding roughly to state legislatures in the United States, as much as 40 per cent of the electorate failed to appear at the polls in some regions.

The newspaper Combat, which rose from the Resistance to an important place in the Paris press, sent a special correspondent to a typical small town — Livron, with four thousand inhabitants, in the Rhone valley — to examine this phenomenon. He found that the principal reason people there did not bother to vote was that only one candidate ran for the canton’s post.

The correspondent incidentally remarked on a more fundamental problem when he discovered a teacher, a factory director, and a mayor’s assistant all ready to “deplore the indifference of their compatriots.” The mayor’s assistant, who is a Communist, was particularly eloquent in his denunciation: “The young think only of Sunday, dancing, and the contents of the pipeline.” This last was a reference to the nightly tapping of the line that conveys gasoline from Marseille to the American forces in Germany.

The correspondent concluded with the philosophical question: “Isn’t it the misfortune of all France that everyone complains that everything is going badly while everyone seems to be getting along pretty well?” The French have always been great grumblers.

The apathy toward politics was balanced to some extent, however, by evident and audible interest, among those who did vote, in the fate of their pre-war leaders. The Radical-Socialists who dominated the government during the years that led to defeat were special objects of this interest. The people made it plain by their comments and their ballots that they wanted a change.

The complicated electoral system left the results open for a few days to almost any interpretation that anyone wanted to give them. The Socialist newspapers proclaimed a substantial victory for their party. The Communist press settled for “a democratic victory.” The conservative journals declared the swing to the left had been blocked.

Eventually the Ministry of the Interior provided firm evidence of the relative party strength with official statistics showing the following line-up and total votes in the cantonal elections: Socialists, 3,423,573; Communists, 3,083,405; Radical-Socialists, 2,054,566: Popular Republican Movement, 1,809,220; Republican Federation, 953,868. Nine other parties, such as the Independent Radicals, Left Republicans, and Conservatives, were far in the rear.

These statistics make it clear that the Socialists have replaced the more conservative Radical-Socialists as the dominant party of France. While lacking anything like a majority, the Socialists have become the pivotal party for future governments. The Communists, though still strong, failed to fulfill the promise of leadership held forth earlier by their one million dues-paying, disciplined members and their prestige immediately after the liberation of France. Their votes actually exaggerated their strength, since their supporters marched to the polls in full force while other parties suffered from abstentions.

De Gaulle and the moderates

The rise of the Popular Republican Movement is significant. The movement is a revival of the minor pre-war Christian Party, holding Centrist views and supporting the Provisional Government of General de Gaulle. It is directed by Maurice Schumann, Resistance speaker over the BBC during the occupation, and editor of the newspaper l’Aube. It numbers among its members Foreign Minister Georges Bidault, who was chief of the National Resistance Council. Its vote of nearly two million represented a triumph for the moderates.

The cantonal elections were generally accepted as a preview of the October 21 general election to choose the national Chamber and to answer two questions by referendums. The questions in simplified form are: Should there be a new Constitution, and should the powers of the new Chamber be limited to those of a Constituent Assembly?

The Socialists and the Popular Republicans supported General de Gaulle in calling for an affirmative answer to both questions. The preview indicated that de Gaulle would probably have his way with the left-of-center ministry to govern during the sevenmonth period while the new Chamber writes a Constitution and creates the Fourth Republic.

What happened to the parties of the extreme left? It is still too early to say with surety. Perhaps future historians looking back on this period will view it as corresponding to Kerensky’s place between the Tsars and Lenin. But now the extreme left appears to be succumbing to the innate caution of the Frenchman and the current apathy that shrinks from any drastic dynamic move.

Frenchman and German

The conduct of France’s foreign policy, even more than of her domestic policies, adheres closely to traditional lines. Despite her moves for closer associations with her neighbors and Soviet charges that she is attempting to set up a “Western bloc,” the Soviet-French twenty-year mutual assistance pact still stands as the foundation of French foreign policy. That is because the French feel that the Russians know how to handle the Germans. The French would like to make a similar arrangement with Britain.

Before concluding an accord with the British, however, the French want two problems settled. They involve Germany and the Middle East. The logical Gallic mind reasons that either a hard or a soft peace must be made with Germany. Since the decision has already been made for a hard peace in eastern Germany, the same decision must be made in western Germany to prevent any possibility that the Germans will spring back at their enemies.

France’s version of a hard peace in the West calls for an international administrator for the Ruhr and occupation of the Rhineland by French forces, possibly aided by Belgian and Dutch forces. The French do not aspire to annexation of the Rhineland, but would like to see the left bank of the Rhine eventually an independent state. This is one point on which they want London to agree with them.

France eyes the Middle East

The Middle Eastern problem raises age-old rivalries. The French fear frankly that the British are muscling in on their territory in Syria and Lebanon and they want them to stop. The immediate point at issue is the negotiation by France of treaties with Syria and Lebanon. So far the Syrians and the Lebanese, feeling British support, have refused to negotiate.

Muscling-in tactics have historical precedents. Even after the conclusion of the Triple Entente,which defined colonial spheres of interest, some of the signatories encountered local functionaries and foreign agents who carried on inimical policies. Now, without an entente, the French suspect that hostile British agents in the Middle East have the full support of their government.

As subtle as ever, French diplomacy does not demand agreement on German and Middle Eastern problems as a condition to the completion of a pact with Britain. But the French do want some sort of advance understanding on these points, feeling that without it the conclusion of a London accord would be pointless.

On the opposite frontier from the English Channel, France hopes to see a democratic, prosperous Italy stripped of the conquests she made under Fascism, but retaining her original colonies and possessing sufficient strength to become a substantial and reliable neighbor.

Here also there are a few points at issue. France wants some minor rectifications of the Italian border in Europe and the Tunisian frontier in North Africa. There is every reason to believe that the Latin sisters can agree on these matters.

French industry comes to life

France’s industry, which escaped from the war almost intact but stayed stalled for another year through lack of raw materials, coal, and transportation, is just starting to stir with real life. In its revived form it shows aspects similar to the new political situation — a swing to the left but not to extremes.

The legend of the two hundred families which were supposed to dominate pre-war French business has been discredited. The international steel trust, the Comité des Forget, has been dissolved officially. Revolutionary-sounding five-year plans and nationalizations are being put into effect. Plans have already been drawn for machine-tool and automobile production. The coal mines of the north and the Renault automobile factory in Paris have been nationalized. Further nationalization of gas, electricity, and heavy industries depends on the outcome of the national election.

These five-year plans, however, do not constitute a completely controlled state economy like that of the Soviet Union; they are simply government directives to private industry. The automobile plan, starting in 1946, provides compulsory grouping of manufacturers into specified categories and production of limited types of vehicles. Its goal is the manufacture of 1,750,000 automobiles, trucks, and buses in five years. This figure represents a 75 per cent increase over pre-war production, when the annual total for these vehicles was 200,000 units.

The machine-tool plan provides for the replacement of 265,000 machines having an average age of thirty years with new ones, thus reducing the average age of France’s 590,000 machine tools to twelve years. The British have two million machine tools with an average age of five to seven years.

Even before the five-year plans go into effect, French industry is showing a sharp upturn. Automobile factories which made only 272 vehicles in October, 1944, produced a total of 2693 in June, 1945. Increased production and imports of coal have started some textile mills humming again. Electric power has returned to normal in the Paris region. There is no denying that shortages still exist in many consumers’ goods, particularly clothing, and the paper shortage has failed to check the rain of bureaucratic regulations that drenches manufacturers and businessmen. Despite the difficulties, the signs of renewed French industrial life are unmistakable.

The land

The French farmers have had their own special problems. Wartime difficulties, including lack of manpower, agricultural machines, and fertilizers, reduced their average production 20 to 25 per cent. Moreover, their first post-war harvest is proving exceptionally small because of the driest summer in years. The Rhone, for example, received only one fortieth of its normal rainfall during July.

The wheat crop, most important of all, is estimated at 43 million quintals compared to the annual pre-war average of 80 million. The potato harvest amounts to about 70 per cent of last year’s fair yield. The first cut of hay in June was good, but the second in August was negligible because of the drought. Winegrowers report a weak but highly variable harvest. Dryness reduced the quantity but improved the quality of grapes. For some, 1945 will stand as a good vintage year.

As in politics, diplomacy, and industry, France’s traditionally conservative agriculture has reacted to its present problems with some profound but not revolutionary changes. The General Confederation of Agriculture is encouraging a new coöperative structure, involving joint use of machinery and intensive mechanization to keep up production with less manpower. The government is contemplating social laws to bring relief to farmers. But the general tendency is toward the modernization of private small farms rather than toward land reforms or collectivization.