The French Parliament and the European Union Backbenchers Blues

FRENCH POLITICS, SOCIETY AND CULTURE

Olivier Rozenberg French Politics, Society and Culture

Series Editor Jocelyn Evans School of Politics & International Studies University of Leeds Leeds, UK This series examines all aspects of French politics, society and culture. In so doing it focuses on the changing nature of the French system as well as the established patterns of political, social and cultural life. Contributors to the series are encouraged to present new and innovative arguments so that the informed reader can learn and understand more about one of the most beguiling and compelling of European countries.

More information about this series at http://www.palgrave.com/gp/series/14991 Olivier Rozenberg The French Parliament and the European Union

Backbenchers Blues Olivier Rozenberg Centre for European Studies and Comparative Politics Sciences Po Paris, France

Original French edition published by Presses de Sciences Po, Paris, 2018

French Politics, Society and Culture ISBN 978-3-030-19790-2 ISBN 978-3-030-19791-9 (eBook) https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9

© The Editor(s) (if applicable) and The Author(s), under exclusive licence to Springer Nature Switzerland AG 2020 This work is subject to copyright. All rights are solely and exclusively licensed by the Publisher, whether the whole or part of the material is concerned, specifically the rights of translation, reprinting, reuse of illustrations, recitation, broadcasting, reproduction on microfilms or in any other physical way, and transmission or information storage and retrieval, electronic adaptation, computer software, or by similar or dissimilar methodology now known or hereafter developed. The use of general descriptive names, registered names, trademarks, service marks, etc. in this publication does not imply, even in the absence of a specific statement, that such names are exempt from the relevant protective laws and regulations and therefore free for general use. The publisher, the authors and the editors are safe to assume that the advice and information in this book are believed to be true and accurate at the date of publication. Neither the publisher nor the authors or the editors give a warranty, express or implied, with respect to the material contained herein or for any errors or omissions that may have been made. The publisher remains neutral with regard to jurisdictional claims in published maps and institutional affiliations.

Cover illustration: AG photographe / Getty Images

This Palgrave Macmillan imprint is published by the registered company Springer Nature Switzerland AG The registered company address is: Gewerbestrasse 11, 6330 Cham, Switzerland The book is dedicated to Denise and Roger, and Solange and Hersz, my grand-parents. Acknowledgments

This book was published in 2018 in French under the title Les députés français et l’Europe. Tristes hémicycles? by the Presses de Sciences Po in Paris. It was translated from French by Ray Godfrey, Richard Jemmet, Katharine Throssell and Julia Zelman. Thanks to them and especially to Julia, who coordinated it all. I am grateful for all members of parliaments, clerks and civil servants who gave me their time and their words in interviews. The book would not have been published without the initial support of Professor Richard Balme, the decisive support of David Por and Yves Surel, the final support of Renaud Dehousse and Florence Haegel … and the continuous support of Emilie. Merci à eux. Thanks also to my OPAL colleagues, Claudia Hefftler et al., “al.” being, among others, Katrin Auel, Christine Neuhold, Julie Smith, Angela Tacea, Anja Thomas and Wolfgang Wessels.

vii Contents

1 Introduction 1

2 Institutional Adaptation: A Case of trompe-l’oeil? 9

3 The Enrolment of National Parliamentarians 59

4 The Constituency Member: Dilettante, Lobbyist or Mediator 101

5 The Defender of Land and Tradition: The Activism of the Righter of Wrongs 133

6 The Sovereigntist: An Ephemeral Role 165

7 The Career Politician: The Europeanisation of Political Outsiders 193

ix x CONTENTS

8 The European Specialist in Search of a Role 223

9 Conclusion 263

Appendix: List of Interviews Held with Political Leaders 277

Index 283 Abbreviations

COM Communist group in the National Assembly (1962–2002) CPNT Hunting, Fish, Nature and Traditions party (1989–) DL Liberal Democracy (right-wing party) (1997–2002) EP European Parliament EU European Union FN National Front (radical right party) (1972–2018) LR Republican party (right-wing party) (2015–) MDC Movement for Citizens (Eurosceptic party) (1993–2003) MEP Member of the European Parliament MoDem Democrat Movement (centrist party) (2007–) MP Member of Parliament MPF Movement for France (Eurosceptic party) (1994–) PC Communist Party (1920–) PS Socialist Party (1969–) RCV Group communist, green and radical in the National Assembly (1997–2002) RPF Rally for France and the Independence of Europe (Eurosceptic party) (1999–) RPR Rally for the Republic (right-wing party) (1976–2002) SOC Socialist group in the National Assembly (1978–2007) UDF Union for French Democracy (right-wing party) (1978–2007) UDI Union of Democrats and Independents (right-wing party) (2012–) UMP Union for a Popular Movement (2002–2015)

xi List of Figures

Fig. 2.1 Meetings of the Delegation to the EU (1979–2008) then European Affairs Committee (2008–2017) of the National Assembly 24 Fig. 2.2 Length of meetings of the European Affairs Delegation/ Committee of the National Assembly (hours) 25 Fig. 2.3 Hearings conducted by the European Affairs Delegation/ Committee of the National Assembly 26 Fig. 2.4 European Affairs Delegation/Committee of the National Assembly reports and resolution proposals 26 Fig. 2.5 The Implementation of Article 88-4 of the Constitution 27 Fig. 2.6 European parliamentary chambers ranked by prerogatives and activity level in European matters (2010–2012) 31 Fig. 3.1 French opinion on EU membership (%) 63 Fig. 3.2 Support in the National Assembly to different EU or European treaties 64 Fig. 3.3 Parliamentary base for French government (percent of Assembly seats) 78 Fig. 3.4 Resolutions adopted on the floor by the National Assembly 79 Fig. 6.1 RPR (subsequently UMP) opponents to the European treaties 176 Fig. 7.1 Change in Bayrou’s approval ratings between June 2004 and June 2005 (%) 218

xiii List of Tables & Inserts

Tables Table 2.1 European prerogatives and activities in different parliamentary chambers, per-year averages from 2010–2012 30 Table 3.1 Various groups’ support in France for the principle of a federal Europe (2010–2011 in %) 65 Table 4.1 Title of texts distributed to members of the Delegation during the meeting on 19 March 2003 108 Table 4.2 Reports with a local dimension presented by the Delegation for the EU (1997–2002) 109 Table 4.3 Actors in contact with Alain Marleix (2002) 121 Table 4.4 Actors in contact with Laurence Dumont (2001) 124 Table 5.1 Electoral results for the CPNT in European elections 136 Table 5.2 Vote on the final reading of the hunting bill on 28 June 2008 by parliamentary group 140 Table 5.3 The electoral situations of the Socialist MPs who voted against the party line on the hunting law of 26 July 2000 149 Table 5.4 Votes on the hunting law of 26 July 2000 of Socialist MPs in constituencies where hunters obtained more than 5% in the first round of the legislative elections in 2002 150 Table 6.1 Voting by anti-Maastricht MPs on later European treaties or constitutional revisions 180 Table 7.1 The positioning of Socialist MPs regarding the constitutional treaty and the constitutional revision prior to its ratification 213 Table 9.1 Europeanisation of French Parliamentary roles (1992–2017) 265 Table 9.2 Factors in Europeanisation of French MPs (1992–2017) 267

xv xvi List of Tables & Inserts

Table 9.3 Types of psychological gratification associated with European involvement (1992–2017) 269 Table 9.4 Regimes of French national MPs activities in European matters (1992–2017) 271

Inserts Insert 2.1 Excerpts of interviews with non-specialised MPs in European Affairs relating to the oversight of European questions by the National Assembly 35 Insert 2.2 Excerpts of interviews with MP members of the Delegation to the EU about the National Assembly’s oversight of European questions 45 Insert 5.1 Extracts of comments by MPs during the reading of the law of 3 July 1998 152 CHAPTER 1

Introduction

On 9 January 2007, the National Assembly resumed deliberations following the winter break. Its Speaker, the Gaullist Jean-Louis Debré, opened the question time with this pronouncement:

My dear colleagues, by now you have certainly not failed to notice the presence of the national flag in the Chamber. In response to a wish unanimously expressed by the National Assembly, I insisted upon putting an end to an anomaly that, astonishingly, had persisted under each Republic: the absence of a Republican national symbol in the Chamber. Today, thanks to you, this symbol has been restored.1

The MPs applauded. During the next day’s session, as on every first Wednesday of the month, the first four questions were dedicated to European topics. The Minister for European Affairs, Catherine Colonna, concluded her response to a question by alluding to the previous day’s decision: ‘Allow me to express my wish, since it’s the season for it, that the day will come when the European flag is present beside the French flag in this Chamber. After all, we have been part of Europe for the past fifty years’.2 Speaker Debré interrupted: ‘That decision would fall under the National Assembly’s responsibility’. A few minutes later, another incident occurred:

Jean Dionis du Séjour: In the name of the UDF party, I wish to support Ms. Colonna’s proposition to place the European flag next to the tricolour flag. (Applause from several benches of the Union for French Democracy party.) Speaker: Mr. Dionis du Séjour, the absence of the European flag has no symbolic significance. The Bureau of the National Assembly considers this Chamber to be emblematic of national debate and the development of national law. Jean Lassalle: Hear, hear! Jacques Desallangre and M. Maxime Gremetz: Quite right! Speaker: That is the reason why the Bureau chose to place only the French flag here. Applause( from several benches of the Union for a Popular Movement, the Union for French Democracy, the Socialist group and the Communist and Republican group.)3

This seemingly insignificant anecdote is revealing in several ways. First, it bears witness to the Assembly’s fierce desire for independence from the executive branch. This impulse is far from new; it constituted the main driver for the institutionalisation of Parliament in France (Gardey 2015). This impulse may even explain the long absence of the tricolour flag in the Chamber: the avoidance of Republican symbolism evinces the Palais- Bourbon’s penchant for insularity ad absurdum.4 Second, the anecdote illustrates the destabilising effects of the European issue on divisions between political parties. Speaker Debré’s blunt refusal to fly the European flag recalls his opposition to the Maastricht Treaty. Fifteen years on, the neo-Gaullists remained split, with the Chirac-appointed Minister (Colonna) supporting putting the flag in place. More generally, these divisions hold true for most of the right wing, as between the two centre-right MPs, Dionis du Séjour and Jean Lassalle, in the above exchange. Finally, the anecdote reveals forms of emerging cross-party support: the cries of ‘Hear, hear!’ from MPs sitting in the extreme left of the Chamber, as well as the applause from members of all political groups. More than a year later, a different Speaker, Bernard Accoyer, made a proposal to the Bureau 1 INTRODUCTION 3 of the Assembly to place the European flag in the Chamber during the French presidency of the European Union in the second half of 2008.5 This was accomplished, and the flag has not since been removed. However, the controversy around the flag has remained. One decade later, in June 2017, the colourful extreme-leftist MP Jean-Luc Mélenchon was elected to the Assembly. As he was visiting the hemicycle the day after his election, surrounded by journalists, he exclaimed pointing at the flag: ‘Hey, honestly, do we have to stand for that? It’s the French Republic here, not the Virgin Mary’—an allusion to the stars surrounding Mary in the Christian iconography that by the creator’s own admission inspired the flag. A new Speaker, François de Rugy, was elected the following day. At the end of his thank-you speech, he said:

In this so particular moment for a political life, I am also thinking of my family, of the values my parents and grandparents transmitted to me. Victims of World War Two, they passed on to me a deep European commitment that makes me proud to sit before you, in front of this European flag. Speaker Accoyer had the wise idea to place this symbol of lasting peace in our hemicycle: this is its place, next to our national colours.6

He was warmly applauded. But Mélenchon did not relent. In October 2017, his group officially proposed withdrawing the flag. His motion, supported by the extreme right, was defeated, but it enabled him to develop a strategy for capturing extreme-right voters by focusing on issues of sovereignty. President Macron, who has shown himself willing to frame the debate on Europe, said in reaction that France, like some other Member States, officially recognised the symbols of the European Union (EU). A National Assembly resolution proposed by his party affirmed this decision. The controversial rejection of the blue twelve-starred flag in the Chamber of the Palais-Bourbon, its almost surreptitious installation, and finally the repetition of the controversies years later reveal the Parliament’s troubles in adapting to France’s participation in European integration. I have chosen to speak of ‘the blues’ in the sub-title of this book chiefly to underscore the normative importance of the democratic stakes implicated in the subject. Within each Member State concerned, European construction raises the question of legislative authority. The European states decided, de facto, to federalise certain competences—customs, currency, 4 O. ROZENBERG internal market rules, and international trade. The EU also acts in a great number of other domains. Even where the Union does not intervene or does so in a limited manner, it still exerts an influence through the effects of its decisions, for example through the jurisprudence of the European Court of Justice or the monitoring of public financing. Indeed, within the framework of the Economic and Monetary Union, the EU’s institutions seek to set limits on national budget deficits. The integration of Europe is predicated on certain specific legal instruments that are derived from treaties and binding on national legislation. Suggested at times by heads of state or of governments on the European Council, systematically proposed by the European Commission, adopted by ministers on the Council of the EU and, often, by the European Parliament, European regulations and directives are imposed—directly in the case of the former, and through transposition for the latter—on national law. The European prerogative is universally binding: on ministries, businesses, citizens and, of course, on national parliaments. The EU thus calls into question the authority of national parliaments not only to participate in the European legislative process but also to legislate freely on the national level. Aside from legislation, parliaments also have a role in the oversight of executive power, a function which may become difficult to exercise in European matters as much for technical reasons (complexity of the projects, access to information, etc.) as for lack of diplomatic opportunities. The parliamentarians’ state of gloom (which does not preclude brief flights of optimism) therefore stems from their observation of European political systems’ problems in overcoming the tensions arising from the mechanisms of representative democracy on a national basis—a legacy of the nineteenth century—and the integration of a continent, ongoing since the second half of the twentieth century. The portrait of an institution with a ‘case of the blues’ will be frequently reinforced and only rarely contra- dicted in the pages that follow. However, following the example of other European assemblies, the French Parliament has not been idle in the face of these existential challenges. It has successfully worked to obtain new rights, created structures and procedures for European issues, and dedicated substantial resources to these new tools. Yet the Assembly and the Senate remain marginal players on the European stage in both the creation and debate of European public policies. This book seeks not only to illuminate the reasons for this ineffectuality but also to elucidate the multiple, diffuse, and unequal forms of French parliamentarians’ acculturation to Europe, beyond any 1 INTRODUCTION 5 specialised procedure. It aims, in effect, to grasp how France’s participation in the EU has progressively changed what it means to be a parliamentarian and how to behave and even to think as a representative. In this respect, I assert that even if French Parliamentarians do not change Europe, the inverse is not true. Few aspects of parliamentarians’ vocation have been immune to the process of continental integration, whether relationships with voters, with the law, with ministers or with themselves. More precisely, this book considers the Europeanisation of the French Parliament over the quarter of a century beginning in 1992. Most of the case studies were conducted during the three terms from 1997 to 2012.7 By Europeanisation, I mean changes instigated in Parliament by France’s participation in the EU as well as parliamentary activities applying to European subjects per se: ratification of treaties, transposition of EU norms, scrutiny of EU drafts, debates and questions in sittings, etc. Finally, in addition to legislative and oversight practices, I consider those which concern each parliamentarian directly: grant-writing, communication of voter grievances, lobbying in Brussels, and realisation of political strategies, to name some examples. The book will focus on the National Assembly but will also occasionally consider the Senate. It will first consider the specific control and participation procedures in European affairs, concluding with an assessment of their relative superficiality. However, the observation of a certain surface-level Europeanisation is not the end of this analysis but rather its starting point. A more general reflection on parliamentary behaviour in its state of subordination to the executive branch has led me to stress the prevalence of specific roles in elected officials’ activities, and of individual emotions in the interpretations of these roles. It is in these conditions—those of an emotional economy, bound by predefined behavioural norms—that Europe is perceived in the Palais-Bourbon. This perspective opens with a description and analysis of the relationships of various parliamentary roles to Europe: roles that have been created, roles that have been transformed, and roles that have been overlooked. The pleasure, the anger, and the ‘blues’ spoken of in this work arise from the players themselves: the backbenchers whose presence on the European stage, I hypothesise, takes place at the meeting point of institutional mechanisms and emotional aspirations. This book is based on several political science field studies. The first was conducted in the beginning of the 2000s,8 based on interviews with approximately sixty parliamentarians and former ministers, mainly MPs, and also with assistants and parliamentary and governmental civil servants.9 6 O. ROZENBERG

This approach was supplemented by several observations of committee meetings and floor sessions. The second field study was conducted ten years later and consisted of the collection of quantitative data on European activities in national parliaments.10 During these years, the examination of parliamentary reports and committees’ debate or session minutes helped me to diversify my sources of information. The methodology of this study therefore encompasses multiple aspects, but the principal approach is qualitative. Interviews with elected officials, cited verbatim, thus hold a prominent place. The book begins with an evaluation of the French Parliament’s European activities from 1992 to 2017 beginning with an overview of the institutions and their constitutional framework and constitutional overview, delving into a quantitative and comparative view, and finishing with a more subjective analysis. Readers with little taste for law or figures may skip directly to the third chapter, which seeks to explore parliamentarians’ difficulty in assuming a strategic attitude in European affairs. This chapter, inspired by Donald Searing’s seminal Westminster’s World (1994), makes use of a motivation-based approach toward defining parliamentary roles. The rest of the book is dedicated to exploring the varying Europeanisation of these roles. Chapters 4 and 5 consider two roles shaped by local concerns: the constituency member and the defender of land and tradition. If most Constituency Members tend to neglect European questions, concerning a few Community cases, they act as lobbyists for their region vis- à-vis the government or, more rarely, European institutions. The defenders of land and tradition perceive themselves as protectors of local cultures and customs against Brussels, as is evidenced by the constantly challenged transposition of a 1979 directive on hunting migratory birds. Chapter 6 is devoted to a certain ideological role that has developed in the European context specifically: the sovereigntist. The story of the rise and fall of the sovereigntists in the National Assembly during the 1990s and 2000s corresponds to the ratification of European treaties and the constitutional revisions which preceded them. Chapter 7 studies those parliamentarians who harbour ministerial or presidential ambitions, evaluating how the attainment of the highest positions and even the concept of political success have changed to fit to the European framework. The analysis of key moments in the careers of François Bayrou, Philippe Séguin, and Laurent Fabius leads me to foreground the parliamentary aspect of a favoured, though risky strategy: the positioning of oneself as an outsider to critique European construction. Finally, the last chapter returns to the theme of 1 INTRODUCTION 7

European specialisation, a subject raised in the beginning of this work, through an institutional lens. The interviews help underline a major limiting factor on specialisation: the difficulty parliamentarians experience in producing actual changes via the process of reviewing European legislation. This obstacle drives active members of specialised structures in the EU to seek other outcomes and other sources of satisfaction in the management of European affairs, as shown through the portraits of successive chairs of the Delegation from the French National Assembly to the EU, reformulated as a Committee in 2008.

Notes 1. Journal officiel de la République française (JORF), Assemblée nationale (AN), Compte rendu (CR), second session of Tuesday 9 January 2007, p. 31. 2. JORF, AN, CR, first session of 10 January 2007, p. 108. 3. Ibid., p. 109. 4. The Palais-Bourbon is the name of the National Assembly main building, the name for the Senate being le Palais du Luxembourg. 5. Minutes of the Bureau meeting of 25 June 2008. 6. JORF, AN, CR, 124th session of 27 June 2017, p. 91188. 7. From 1997 to 2002, France experienced its third episode of divided government with a right-wing President, Jacques Chirac, and a leftist majority in the National Assembly resulting from Chirac’s order of dissolution. Lionel Jospin was Prime Minister of a coalition government dominated by the Socialists and allied with the Communists, the Greens, the center-left Radicals and a small group of former socialists called the Citizens. In 2002, Chirac was re-elected and supported by a large majority in Parliament. For Prime Minister he appointed Jean-Pierre Raffarin, then, in 2005, after the rejection by referendum of the European constitutional treaty, Dominique de Villepin. In 2007, a former minister of his, Nicolas Sarkozy, was elected. Although originating from the same party, Sarkozy pretended to break with Chirac’s legacy. He was backed by an absolute majority in Parliament and chose François Fillon as Prime Minister for his whole term. In 2012, Sarkozy was defeated by François Hollande, second Socialist President of the Fifth Republic. 8. As part of a doctoral dissertation defended in 2005 at Sciences Po Paris, under the direction of Professor Richard Balme. 9. See the list of interviews with parliamentarians in the Appendix. Names have been removed from all other interviews, which are simply listed by number. The Centre for Socio-Political Data at Sciences Po, and its beQuali 8 O. ROZENBERG

project, offer access to unabridged transcriptions to interviews with political players and to certain analyses of primary documents. It is also possible to listen the interviews. My warmest thanks to the founder of this project, Sophie Duchesne, and to Guillaume Garcia for its implementation. See http://www.bequali.fr/fr/les-enquetes/lenquete-en-bref/cdsp_bequali_ sp3/ or the website of the Quetelet network. 10. As a part of the OPAL project led by Sciences Po and Cambridge, Cologne and Maastricht Universities from 2011 to 2014, funded in France by the National Research Agency.

References Gardey, D. (2015). Le Linge du Palais-Bourbon. Corps, matérialité et genre du politique. Lormont: Le Bord de l’Eau. Searing, D. (1994). Westminster’s World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. CHAPTER 2

Institutional Adaptation: A Case of trompe-l’oeil?

Parliaments’ ability to change has generally been overlooked. True, parliaments have always been characterised by a strong tendency toward procedural continuity, as parliamentary procedure is partly founded on precedents. The scrutiny of French law has followed essentially the same process for more than a century, yet parliaments have changed and are almost constantly evolving. Details of procedures are modified, new oversight tools are assessed, and emergent technologies such as pneumatic cyl- inders, television cameras, open data and so on are incorporated little by little. Except in the case of exogenous shocks, such as the establishment of a new Constitution, parliaments change without fanfare in a subtle game wherein practices and rules (originating in the Constitution, the law, or internal regulations) exert a mutual influence. Concerning European affairs, the French Parliament has changed much since Maastricht. In 1979, it created delegations to the EU, committees of sorts. From 1990 on, these committees began handling large amounts of information on European projects. Each assembly could adopt legally non- binding opinions—‘resolutions’—on European legislative drafts after 1992. Little by little, delegations gained access to the whole body of European documentation. In 2008, they were renamed ‘Committees’ (commissions) and gained the ability to adopt resolutions on any European document. In a more general fashion, European issues have begun to have a greater presence within the Assemblies (for example, in debate sessions regularly organised the day before European Council meetings) or outside of the Assemblies

(for example, visits of French parliamentarians to Brussels have been increasing). This chapter aims to evaluate this type of Europeanisation, exceptional in that it depends on domestic arrangements rather than EU texts. Any assessment of the French Parliament in European matters between 1992 and 2017 must address the diversity of European activities, their objectives and their public perceptions. Parliaments are complex institutions to which constitutions allot different roles: the expectations of citizens, actors and analysts differ widely and even contradict one another. Therefore, I proceed from several different perspectives, enriching the institutional evaluation with a mainly comparative analysis of the Chambers’ European activities. In a final, critically oriented section that engages more subjective criteria, this chapter seeks to expand beyond the rather favourable impression given by formal prerogatives and figures in order to elucidate the reality of parliamentarians’ European activities.

The Ceaseless Adaptation of the French Parliament The history of national parliaments’ adaptation to the EU, for most of the Europe of Twelve Member States, was marked by the adoption of the Single Act in the mid-1980s (Rozenberg and Hefftler 2015; Winzen 2012). The changeover to qualified majority voting in the Council for certain fields of activity and the announcement of an ambitious new working agenda by Jacques Delors helped to mobilise national politicians. The Europeanisation of the French Parliament, however, followed a different timeline. To a certain extent, the adaptation to Europe began earlier with the creation of specialised structures beginning in 1979, but in some ways it also developed later, after the key forward step of the Maastricht Treaty in 1992. Except for these two periods, the French Parliament’s Europeanisation has been accomplished through a series of constitutional, legislative and regulatory reforms, a process which may be understood either as the expression of a desire to perfect the system or, alternatively, as a proof of the difficulty of achieving stability. I will briefly consider these reforms, distinguishing between an initial period (1979–1992), a post- Maastricht phase (1992–2005) and the system that resulted from constitutional revisions in 2005 and 2008.1

1979: An Ambiguous Founding Compromise The creation of the delegations for the European Communities in 1979 was marked by an ambiguous duality that would continue to characterise 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 11 these structures for a long time. As Hervé Trnka, head of the European Service division from 1976 to 1988, director of the Foreign Documentation Service at the National Assembly, explains, ‘Faure was the father of the European Service; Foyer was the father of the Delegation’.2 The radical Edgar Faure, a confirmed pro-European, headed the assembly during the Fifth Parliament (1973–1978) and created the European Service as a branch of the Foreign Documentation service in 1976. Trnka, the director of the latter, recounts the follow story about the creation of the Delegation:

With the direct election of the European Parliament in 1979, national delegations disappeared. My two administrators told me that there was no link left between the European Parliament and national parliaments. They proposed that a Delegation be created; one already existed for demographics and planning. This Delegation could collect documentation for the use of national parliaments and give hearings to French MEPs [Members of the European Parliament]. We asked ourselves who might take up this idea. Jean Foyer, chairman of the Law Committee, was the most anti-European. He had written articles along the lines of “we’re going to be overwhelmed”. He agreed to sponsor a bill on creating the Delegation to which the government would have to submit draft European texts.

The Delegation’s advocates also benefitted from the support of former Prime Minister Michel Debré and from the uproar in the Chamber provoked by the transposition of the sixth directive on the VAT, which on 30 November 1978 had occasioned an unprecedented vote for an objection of inadmissibility by the Assembly (Hochedez and Patriarche 1998, p. 64s). On 7 December of that year, the Gaullist Jean Foyer submitted a bill which aroused the opposition of the government. Jean François- Poncet, Minister of Foreign Affairs at the time, recalls: ‘In 1979, when I was Minister, we established the delegations to satisfy the assembly’s Eurosceptic parliamentarians who wished to monitor what was happening in Europe’. The law, while short of initial ambitions, was adopted.3 The atmosphere of tension surrounding the establishment of the delegations might seem to suggest that they were created to satisfy essentially Europhobic aspirations. Yet the role of Faure and his clerks, the moderate stance of the Senate and the personalities of the first chairs indicate that, from the beginning, the Assemblies’ activities in European matters brought together both advocates and opponents of the vision of Europe then being constructed. 12 O. ROZENBERG

The delegations originated and developed, therefore, from two concerns. One, from a Europhile perspective, was a desire to increase the Assemblies’ awareness of European questions. The other, critical of Europe, sought to resist any impairment of national sovereignty and the French Parliament’s prerogatives. In addition, accounts of the period testify to the doubly-compounded difficulty of creating these structures, despite their lack of institutional power. First, the government was anxious not to relinquish its prerogatives to Parliament in the European domain. This reluctance was exacerbated by the political tension within the majority between the Gaullists and the centre-right, which extended to European issues; this was the era of the Call of Cochin by Jacques Chirac.4 Secondly, the National Assembly, especially its standing committees, evinced a certain hesitancy towards the delegations. Because of this, Faure had to ‘camouflage’ (the term is Trnka’s) the European Service by integrating it with the Foreign Documentation Service, which had existed since the 1930s and whose purpose was to oversee the exchange of documents with foreign parliaments. Each of the two Assemblies created a Delegation in charge of European questions. These structures, each of which must be approved by a specific law, are undoubtedly less prestigious than the standing committees, whose number was constitutionally restricted to six until 2008 when up to eight were permitted. In response to this constraint, a delegation on the question of audio-visual communication was created by the Assembly in 1972. The choice of this arrangement implied that the members of the delegations also had to be members of one of the standing committees. The decision to give each assembly its own structure, rather than what would be implemented for the Parliamentary Office for Scientific and Technological Options in 1983, stemmed from the political sensitivity of the European question and allowed for disagreements between the two chambers. The ‘Delegation of the National Assembly for the European Communities’ had to contend with the Foreign Affairs Committee’s defence of its own prerogatives. The Foreign Affairs Committee, which has long assembled some of the most prestigious parliamentarians (Riaux 2014), is tasked with reporting on any treaty-related text, including European treaties. It fought a lengthy if discreet institutional battle to affirm its primacy over the Delegation. Trnka offers the following anecdote, which reveals the relationship between the first chairman of the Delegation, Michel Cointat, and the former Prime Minister Maurice Couve de Murville, who headed the Foreign Affairs Committee until 1981: 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 13

We composed a report every six months. Cointat told me we had to give it to Couve de Murville. Couve welcomed us, thanked us, and threw our report in the rubbish bin before our very eyes.

This reluctance to grant autonomy led to a restrictive definition of the delegations’ powers (Hochedez and Patriarche 1998, p. 66). Their scope of action was limited to European Community institutions, rather than to any issues linked to European integration. The government’s obligation to supply information, determined by vague criteria, was limited to matters relating to statutory law—a distinction that would resurface at Maastricht. All attempts to grant the delegations real prerogatives, whether the authority to conduct investigations, the government’s duty to consult them, or merely their ability to send their conclusions to the Assembly Speaker, were explicitly rejected during the examination of the bill. Despite these difficulties, the delegations survived the political change- overs of 1981, 1986 and 1988. They met regularly and reported on the European issues of the day, for example the commercial agreements with the South, the Common Agriculture Policy (CAP) and the policy on the steel industry. Ten years after the 1979 law, a broad perception of the system’s inadequacy, as well the implementation of the Single Act, relaunched the debate on delegations. In 1990, the Josselin law5 expanded the conditions under which the chambers would obligatorily receive information, and authorised the delegations to hear members of the government and to publish reports. The number of delegation members was raised from 18 to 36 per assembly.

1992: A ‘Resolute’ Parliament In 1992, the right to receive information was complemented by the right to express opinions. The opportunity came in the form of the constitutional revision preceding the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty. The Constitutional Council ordered the revision after finding several contradictions between the Treaty and the Constitution. The question of national parliaments was not, however, one of these incompatibilities. Indeed, as the constitutional organisation of Member States is a matter of national sovereignty, the provisions relating to national parliaments were—and still are—minimal, symbolic, or incidental. The transformation of parliamentary assemblies was part of what Bastien Irondelle has conceptualised as a form of ‘Europeanisation without the European Union’ (Irondelle 2003): 14 O. ROZENBERG a process in which the EU constitutes only a resource or constraint in all scopes of action (evocation, relational networks, foreign paradigms, etc.) except that of law. In this instance, the granting of prerogatives was important for several reasons, the first symbolic: François Mitterrand, who had abandoned socialism in favour of Europe as his number-one priority, sought to associate all the emblems of the nation with the European project, including the Constitution, the recognition of French as the language of the Republic, and the Parliament. Secondly, strategy figured in the granting of new prerogatives to the Parliament, since the support of the two Assemblies during the revision was necessary. Finally, there was a normative dimension, insofar as the constitutional revision marked the exact moment when the question of European democratic deficit emerged in French political life. MPs and Senators agreed on an Article 88-4 of the Constitution, inserted into a new title dedicated to Europe. This reinforced the government’s duty to provide information, and more importantly, allowed each assembly to adopt resolutions. The Parliament’s ability to express an opinion with no legal consequences had been expressly forbidden by the Constitutional Council since 19596; with this article, such a right was enshrined in the Constitution. It is true that legally, the French Minister negotiating within the Council of the EU is not obligated to align herself with the Chambers’ positions. Unlike her counterpart from Denmark, where the system has been established since its membership in the EU, she is not mandated by the Assemblies. Politically, however, the Fifth Republic obeys a parliamentary working logic in which the successful running of the country’s affairs is contingent on the absence of a parliamentary majority bent on toppling the government. Therefore, parliamentary resolutions are potentially effective tools. Certainly, the government is not forced to adopt the National Assembly’s position, but it is neither logical nor advantageous to oppose directly or repeatedly the body that can censure or weaken it. Though innovative, this new ability to pass resolutions had two major limitations. First, it could only affect proposals for Community acts, which barred Parliament from intervening in intergovernmental decisions relating to diplomacy, justice, or internal security, according to the pillared architecture of the EU between 1993 and 2009. Second, draft European proposals were required to pertain to the domain of law within the meaning of the French Constitution for the Assemblies to be able to give their opinion. This rule may seem surprising, given the absence of the resolutions’ legal consequences, and given also the ‘residual’ (Carcassonne and 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 15

Guillaume 2014, p. 191) character of the independent regulatory power under the Fifth Republic. It illustrates, however, the executive branch’s desire to maintain its dominant position in European affairs. The rule necessitated the systematic consideration of all draft acts by the Council of State to determine their nature as either legal or regulatory texts. The restrictions were gradually lifted. In 1999, the constitutional review preceding the Amsterdam Treaty authorised Parliament to pass resolutions on drafts relating to all three pillars (if they belonged to the field of statutory law). This review also allowed the government to remove the law/regulation distinction at its discretion, as when in 2004 the Raffarin government refused to transmit a document on the opening of membership negotiations with Turkey within the context of 88-4.7 It would not be until 2008 that a constitutional amendment would erase the distinction. The newly gained ability to vote on European resolutions did not immediately increase the delegations’ power, not only because the new provisions of the Constitution did not mention them (given the Senate’s opposition) but also because the first versions of the Assemblies’ standing orders tended to minimise their role in favour of the standing committees. On the model of the private members’ bills procedure, the six standing committees in each house were tasked with preparing the resolution proposals (Fromage 2015, p. 135s). However, in the Assembly, as in the Senate, rules and procedures were modified after several months, granting a central screening and initiating role to the delegations. These regulatory vagaries are revealing in two ways. They offer another illustration of the standing committees’ above-mentioned preoccupation with safeguarding their traditional prerogatives. Moreover, the delegations had to content themselves with writing proposals that would only become definitive after consideration by a standing committee and, potentially, a plenary debate. However, the delegations’ progressive assumption of the task of reviewing resolutions despite these preventative measures also suggests that the structure’s specialisation constituted the sine qua non groundwork for a permanent control of European affairs. Because of the committees’ focus on legislative procedure and their lack of sensitivity toward European questions, but also because of the vast output and technical complexity of Community documentation, a certain organisational division of labour became inevitable. On that subject, it is striking that all Member States’ national parliaments have created their own committees on European affairs, even if these differ significantly from one another. 16 O. ROZENBERG

Specialised structures also have helped spearhead the acquisition of new prerogatives. In 1990, and again in 1994, bills were approved at the behest of the Chair of the Delegation of the Assembly. In 1994, the Pandraud law renamed the structures as Delegations for the EU and extended their right to receive information.8 The government was effectively obliged to send them draft acts relating to the second and third pillars (even if, given the restrictions of Article 88-4, the delegations could still only write conclusions about them, not resolutions). It was during this period that its Chair joined other leaders of groups and committees in the Conference of Presidents,9 proof of the Delegation of the Assembly’s newly acquired political importance. On an administrative level, the European Affairs Service assumed its independence vis-à-vis the Foreign Documentation Service. Its workforce increased considerably to about 10 administrators in 1997, an increase from just three in 1979. It can also be noted that the resulting system is a sort of perfect, non- cooperative bicameralism: perfect, since the two Assemblies have the same powers; non-cooperative, in the sense that there is no back-and-forth system between them and each votes on its ‘own’ resolution. This organisational structure largely derives from the veto power of the High Chamber in matters of constitutional review (given that most of the Assemblies’ European prerogatives are written into the constitution). It appears, furthermore, that the government benefits from the Assemblies’ division, since a united resolution from Parliament could potentially have a greater political impact. Two years after the creation of the resolutions, another tool was added to the kit: the parliamentary scrutiny reserve. In 1994, Prime Minister Edouard Balladur decided that ministers would no longer vote in the Council unless Parliament had finished examining the Community act proposal in question.10 Parliament could not dictate the government’s position but could prevent it from expressing it. This procedure was modelled on the British system, which had been established from the country’s date of entry into the EU. Today, it is organised as follows: during the eight weeks following a Commission proposal, the government may not express its official position to Brussels—a commitment which does not impose great cost, since European treaties have guaranteed a waiting period of up to six weeks (Amsterdam), then eight weeks (Lisbon) between the submission of a Commission proposal and its examination by the Council. If, during this period, one of the two Assemblies signals its intention to examine a text, the government assents to delay expressing its own opinion for as long as this scrutiny lasts—even if it extends beyond eight 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 17 weeks. Such is the theoretical organisation of the system; in practice, as we shall see in Chap. 3, it is not quite so favourable to the Parliament.

2008: A Second-Order European Committee The French Constitution was amended in July 2008. This ‘law of modernisation of Fifth Republic institutions’ had the greatest quantitative impact of any introduced under the Fifth Republic, as it amended almost half of the articles of the Constitution.11 Though not central to the revision, European issues were nevertheless considered, as the new version of Article 88-4 demonstrates:

The government shall lay before the National Assembly and the Senate drafts of European legislative acts as well as other drafts of or proposals for acts of the European Union as soon as they have been transmitted to the council of the European Union. In the manner laid down by the rules of procedure of each House, European resolutions may be passed, even if Parliament is not in session, on the drafts or proposals referred to in the preceding paragraph, as well as on any document issuing from a European Union Institution. A committee in charge of European affairs shall be set up in each parliamentary assembly.

In comparison with previous versions of Article 88-4, including those that had been approved by vote but not implemented, there are two major changes. For one, the right to issue European resolutions is no longer contingent on the legislative nature of the draft act, or on its transmission by the government, because this right applies to ‘any document issuing from a European Union Institution’. In addition, the erasure of the distinction between law and regulation allowed the Assemblies to accelerate the process of scrutinising texts, freeing up the week normally used by the Council of State to decide of the legal nature of the draft. A second change was that the Committee would thenceforth replace the Delegation for the EU. This detail is more remarkable since it is the sole committee whose purpose is explicitly mentioned in the constitutional text. Yet, although it gives the Committee its new title, the Constitution does not specify anything about its structure. The law of 15 June 2009 also simplified the provisions of the Pandraud law, letting each assembly decide on the Committee’s composition, method of appointment, and working rules.12 The number of members rose from 36 to 48 in the Assembly and to 41 in 18 O. ROZENBERG the Senate. Those EU committees were kept distinct from the standing committees. The principle of parliamentarians’ double membership, in the committee responsible for European affairs and in a standing committee, was therefore maintained. The inscription of the delegations into the Constitution nonetheless facilitated their capacity to adopt resolutions by granting them greater clout. In the Assembly as in the Senate, it was thenceforth established that if the relevant standing committee had not submitted a report on the European Affairs Committee’s resolution proposal within one month, the resolution would be considered approved by this standing committee. Nevertheless, the resolution would not yet be definitive, since the Conference of Presidents could potentially decide whether it would be discussed on the floor. In the Assembly, the Conference has two weeks to decide to do so, while in the Senate, a motion may be brought before it within two days, after which it has seven days to decide. In addition, the National Assembly European Affairs Committee gained a monopoly on preparatory examinations of resolutions: it now systematically scrutinises resolution proposals presented by groups of MPs or individual members. If the ex-delegations are less dependent on the goodwill of the standing committees, it is still possible for standing committees to redo, or even veto, the European Affairs Committee’s work. A reading of the Standing Orders of each chamber is ample testimony to the European Affairs Committee’s auxiliary status, which the draft constitutional law had initially named, in French, as a ‘comité’ and not a ‘commission’. In the Assembly, a standing committee may ask the European Affairs Committee to examine a European text and formulate a report. Furthermore, it may demand that the European Affairs Committee do so within a month. In the Senate, the European Affairs Committee is subsidiary, the standing committees having priority to examine a European text for the two weeks that follow its transmission. Another limitation on both European Affairs Committees is that they have not obtained the right to give their views officially during the domestic legislative procedure.13 The European Committee of the Assembly may certainly ‘make observations’ on a bill ‘relevant to an area covered under EU activity’—which is not restrictive— and potentially present them on the floor. But these observations are not amendments, a fact which deprives the committee of the related procedural guarantees, not to mention of a certain prestige. Apart from provisions relating to European resolutions, the constitutional revisions of 2005 and February 2008 introduced new provisions 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 19 derived from various European treaty articles offering new rights to national parliaments. The main treaty provision, inscribed in Article 88-6 in the Constitution, concerns subsidiarity checks. An innovative, relatively complex procedure was indeed introduced by the Lisbon Treaty following the Convention on the Future of Europe (2002–2003).14 The early warning mechanism for subsidiarity checks aims to associate parliamentary chambers’ individual scrutiny of draft European texts with collective participation. It effectively grants each chamber the right to issue a (reasoned) opinion if it has subsidiarity concerns about a draft legislative act within the eight weeks that follow the draft’s transmission. If one third of national parliaments decide thus,15 the ‘yellow card’ threshold is reached, and the European Commission can maintain, amend or withdraw the text and must provide justifications. To date (June 2019) this situation has arisen three times. In the first case, the Commission decided to withdraw its proposal, and in the second and the third, it did not change the text. If the threshold reaches half of national parliaments—the ‘orange card’—the Council of the EU or the European Parliament can easily block the proposal. Article 88-6 inscribes this provision in the French Constitution. The Lisbon Treaty also provides for flexible review systems of the European legislative procedure implemented through Article 88-7 of the French Constitution. Apart from these provisions, the two Assemblies have developed other types of European activities European debates are regularly organised in session, particularly before European Council meetings. Since 2009, the National Assembly standing orders provide that, during the so-called ‘control week’,16 a session prioritises European questions. Different solu- tions related to oral questions have been tested, such as opening the question time with European issues once per month. In the Senate, the Standing Orders mention oral questions on European subjects. Hearings, whatever their framework, may also occasionally raise European issues. More rarely, the National Assembly receives state leaders and Prime Ministers, inviting them to speak on the floor. This exceptional case occurred for the European Commission President, José-Manuel Barroso, on 24 January 2006. Giscard d’Estaing also delivered a speech on the floor in 2002 as the President of the Convention on the Future of Europe. In addition to these procedures, we may mention a multitude of activities related to inter-parliamentary relationships between national parliaments (bilaterally or on a larger scale) and with the European Parliament 20 O. ROZENBERG

(Nuttens and Sicard 2000; Hefftler and Gattermann 2015). The frameworks facilitating cooperation are especially plentiful, since they correspond to relations between different geographic zones (Franco-German, Franco-British, Franco-German-Polish, etc.), different regional geopoliti- cal structures (certainly the EU, but also the Council of Europe, NATO, the Union for the Mediterranean, etc.) and assembly apparatus: the speakers, the chief clerks, all the standing committees (particularly the Foreign Affairs, Defence and Budget Committees), the so-called Friendship Groups with other EU countries, and of course the European Affairs Committee. These last are part of a structure initiated by the National Assembly Speaker Laurent Fabius in 1989, known as the Conference of Community and European Affairs Committees of Parliaments and designated with the French acronym COSAC (Conférence des Organes Spécialisés dans les Affaires Communautaires). COSAC meetings reunite members of each national Parliament’s European affairs committee every half-year in the capital of the country currently holding the presidency of the Council of the EU. Mentioned in the treaties, this conference possesses few powers but has served as a place to socialise and exchange parliamentary monitoring practices and norms (Buzogany 2013)—a purpose that is especially crucial since, as mentioned, the treaty provisions relating to national parliaments are by necessity minimal. Overall, the history of the institutionalisation of European activities in the French Parliament evinces remarkable progress given the weakness of the French Parliament under the Fifth Republic, but also testifies to lasting difficulties, particularly regarding the institutionalisation of specialised parliamentary structures in European matters. Indeed, it took no fewer than 30 years for the delegations to be renamed committees, and even so, they did not attain the status of standing committees. Fully 16 years passed before the Assemblies could adopt resolutions on all types of European acts even though they were legally innocuous. This process was, in the end, not greatly influenced by European treaties, depending mainly on internal political considerations. The changes often required forms of convergence between Eurosceptic and Europhile politicians. As a last point, the permanence of these changes, reforms and adaptations is striking. With remarkable consistency, the Assemblies seek to improve the current system by drawing on foreign examples and by learning from past mistakes. The next section of the chapter is devoted precisely to evaluating this institutionalisation. 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 21

A Favourable Institutional and Quantitative Evaluation This section will first evaluate the prerogatives obtained by the French parliamentary chambers. This approach alone is insufficient in assessing the chambers’ success in adapting to the EU, as parliamentarians do not necessarily make use of their rights. As Philip Norton, the British expert on Parliament, stresses, ‘[W]hat is remarkable about the legislatures is not their power to say no to government but rather their reluctance to employ that power’ (Norton 1998, p. 192). Institutional routine, parliamentary discipline, and free-rider mentality often reduce the impact of informational reforms. Therefore, after considering the institutional prerogatives, this chapter will turn to a quantitative examination of parliamentary activities. Finally, these rights and practices will be considered in comparison to other European parliaments.

Notable European Prerogatives Attained in Spite of the Fifth Republic Parliaments’ institutional capabilities in European matters can be grouped around three main issues: access to information, the scrutiny infrastructure, and the legal scope of parliamentary opinion (Auel et al. 2015). Regarding information first, as from 1 January 2006, the European Commission sends documents directly to national parliaments. The Lisbon Treaty later formalised this obligation. Therefore, the issue now concerns parliaments’ access to internal Council documents and the quality of information shared by the government. On this first point, a 2012 COSAC report reveals that the French Parliament is one of six parliaments that have clearance for documents categorised as ‘EU Confidential’.17 Since 2015, the clerks from both European Affairs Committees also gained the ability to consult diplomatic telegrams directly on their computers; the heads of the services can even access confidential ones. The clerks interviewed during the 2000s and 2010s are unanimous on this point: civil servants within the state apparatuses, particularly in the SGAE,18 give them ample access to information. With respect to the quality of this information, however, the situation is less advantageous. It remains difficult to obtain timely, official, comprehensive information from the government on its position on upcoming European negotiations. Unlike, for example, 22 O. ROZENBERG memoranda of the UK government, impact statements (fiches d’impact simplifiés) are focussed on legal issues and are neither regularly nor inte- grally sent to Parliament. In 2014 for instance, the Assemblies received only 28 statements whereas the European Commission proposed 62 draft laws.19 The method of inter-ministerial preparation of France’s official position under the SGAE is partly to blame for this paucity (Lequesne 1993). It would appear easier to make the executive branch’s point of view known in good time when a lead ministry is tasked with formulating it. With regards to Parliament’s institutional ability to scrutinise European documents, the French Parliament enjoys a rather beneficial situation. Specialised services have existed for the past two decades. Around 12 administrators and assistants have worked in each Assembly since the end of the 1990s. Filtering procedures are used to sort European documents according to importance. Lastly, concerning the legal effect of oversight procedures, the French Parliament, like nearly half of other national parliaments, does not have the ability to give a mandate to the negotiating minister at the Council. True, resolutions are included in the minister’s negotiation file and successive letters from Prime Ministers have stressed that they must be considered. Moreover, Europe-wide, most ministers who are given a mandate may still ignore it during the talks (Karlas 2012). Only the Austrian and Danish ministers are technically required to rene- gotiate with Parliament during the Council. However, this practice is rarely followed in Austria, and in Denmark the mandate is first drafted by the government, then discussed and potentially amended in Parliament. While it would therefore be a mistake to exaggerate the significance of mandates, the fact remains that the French Parliament lacks the authority to dictate a minister’s position. The whole oversight procedure for European questions is furthermore dedicated to the scrutiny of draft European texts, rather than the position of the government on these texts. By contrast, in many other parliaments, the scope of the monitoring process includes not only European drafts but also the government’s European policy. Such is the case in Estonia, Finland, Hungary, the Netherlands, Poland, Portugal, and Sweden.20 In the case of directives, this weakness is further exacerbated by the law/regulation distinction, since only about half of directives necessitate a legislative transposition measure (Bertoncini 2009, p. 28). The French Parliament cannot use its veto power strategically by trying to influence drafts in advance. The parliamentary scrutiny reserve could potentially supply another lever for influence. However, it carries little weight in reality, partly because it constitutes a commitment by the executive rather than a 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 23 legal obligation. More generally, the interviews I conducted confirm the difficulty of monitoring European decisionsex post. In sum, the institutional capabilities of French Parliament in European matters are significant, even considering the lack of a binding mandate and of governmental memoranda. Numerous parliamentary prerogatives, beginning with the existence of specific committees, are guaranteed by the text of the Constitution. Moreover, we may observe through the examples of resolutions or of delegations that European issues have reinforced Parliament’s position in the political system even outside of European matters. More broadly, we may hypothesise that the emphasis on parliamentary scrutiny of European affairs after 1992, making use of extensive legal, human, and financial resources, considerably contributed to legitimising the idea that the Parliament does not exist solely to legislate. Parliamentary oversight was certainly recognised as a constitutional mission since 1958, but European issues gave it a concrete reality beyond parliamentary oral and written questions and inquiry committees. The 1992 revision essentially prefigured that of 2008, which gave Parliament a third duty, the evaluation of public policy, and tried to decrease legislative activities by obliging Assemblies to devote one weeklong session out of four to oversight and evaluation. Furthermore, the monitoring of European affairs also helped discredit the idea of a presidential domain outside of parliamentary oversight. The president’s constitutional primacy in diplomacy and defence, and his lack of responsibility towards the Parliament, had long fostered the idea that Parliament could not restrain the president in certain areas. Slowly and in a piecemeal fashion, the oversight of European affairs aided in changing minds. After 2008, this led to the establishment of parliamentary approval procedures for armed interventions and presidential nominations.

The European Affairs Committee’s Continued Vitality In 1996, in the first publication of his commentary on the Constitution, Guy Carcassonne wrote of Article 88-4: ‘It remains for us to hope, in any event, that the usual scenario will not recur, in which parliamentarians cry out for another instrument only to leave it by the wayside once the novelty has worn off and return to wherever their business calls them, meaning, for many, the local communities that they govern’ (Carcassonne 1996). Twenty years later, actual figures allow us to conclude that this hope has 24 O. ROZENBERG been fulfilled. The specialised procedures for monitoring European affairs have not only been reinforced through a series of constitutional revisions, but are also significantly and continuously used. To make a full account, I have studied the National Assembly’s annual statistical statements, striving to situate the ensemble of European activities within the context of the MPs’ occupations elsewhere. The first indicator I have chosen is the number of European Affairs Delegation (subsequently European Affairs Committee) meetings. Figure 2.1 presents the data gathered since this structure’s creation. Over the whole period, the committee convened 38 times by year on average, compared to 62 times for standing committees. Since 1994, the frequency of meetings has risen to 48 per year, compared to 66 for standing and special committees. The proportion of committee meetings in total represents 9% of those held by standing special committees, a ratio that has remained fairly stable for 20 years. In terms of absolute value, however, the number of meetings has reached new records since 2012, with more than 70 meetings per year—although the relative meeting duration, indicated in the next figure, does not show a similar trend. The number of Senate committee meetings is comparable, with an average of 40 meetings per year since 2000.21 The duration of these meetings, shown in Fig. 2.2, is consistent with these

120 20%

100 15% 80 76 73 75 75

60 55 54 56 10% 49 49 46 48 47 46 46 42 42 37 37 40 35 36 34 35 34 33 31 32 29 26 24 27 26 25 24 5% 22 19 20 20 13 9 9

0 0%

EU Delegation/Committee mean for the standing committees % of meetings (right)

Fig. 2.1 Meetings of the Delegation to the EU (1979–2008) then European Affairs Committee (2008–2017) of the National Assembly. Source: National Assembly annual statistical statements. Note: ‘% of meetings’ = Proportion of EU Delegation/Committee meetings as a percent of the meetings conducted by standing and special committees 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 25

200 30%

180 25% 160

140 20% 118 120 108 108 109 100 90 90 15% 84 78 77 80 70 71 65 66 67 69 60 62 63 55 10% 60 50 52 52 45 40 5% 20

0 0%

EU Delegation mean for the standing committees % of meetings (right)

Fig. 2.2 Length of meetings of the European Affairs Delegation/Committee of the National Assembly (hours) trends. On average, the European Affairs Committee of the National Assembly has met 74 hours per year since 1994, versus 104 hours for a standing committee. This amount of hours represents a proportion of 11% of that of the standing and special committees. The second indicator concerns committee activities. Figure 2.3 reveals the European Affairs Committee’s dynamism in holding hearings with members of the government (these constitute half of the hearings) or with other players. The Committee has organised or, along with the standing committees, co-organised 26 hearings per year since 1993, compared to 42 hearings for each standing committee. These hearings represent 9% of the total held in Parliament. In the Senate, the average is slightly lower at 17 hearings per year since 2000. Figure 2.4 indicates the number of reports and resolution proposals tabled by the Assembly committee since 1993. Thirty-two reports are tabled on average each year. The resolution proposals are less numerous at an average of 12 per year. In the Senate, the number of reports is distinctly lower: an average of eight per year since 2000. This low figure is not surprising, given that Senators consciously avoid excessively dispersing their energies, instead focusing on certain subjects. Senators publish fewer reports but accompany them more systematically with resolution proposals. 26 O. ROZENBERG

90 20%

80 69 70 15% 60

50 46 46 47 47 10% 40 31 31 30 27 26 24 25 21 21 20 5% 20 17 16 17 15 13 14 14 13 10 12 10

0 0%

EU Delegation mean for the standing committees % of meetings (right)

Fig. 2.3 Hearings conducted by the European Affairs Delegation/Committee of the National Assembly

50 45 40 35 30 23 25 20 20 20 18 16 14 15 15 13 12 13 12 12 13 10 10 11 9 10 9 11 10 8 6 8 7 5 3 0

Reports Draft resolutions

Fig. 2.4 European Affairs Delegation/Committee of the National Assembly reports and resolution proposals

The third series of indicators, presented in Fig. 2.5, is concerned with the implementation of Article 88-4. The figure shows the explosion in the number of documents transmitted under 88-4, that is, the number on which it is possible to pass a resolution, after the constitutional revision of 2008. The average until 2008 was 262 texts per year, but subsequently 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 27

30 1200

25 1000 23

20 20 20 800 18 17 15 15 14 14 600 13 13 13 13 12 11 11 10 10 10 10 400 8 8 8 8 7 7 5 5 200

0 0

Assembly Resolutions Senate Resolutions

Documents transmitted 88-4 (right) Proposed directives (right)

Fig. 2.5 The Implementation of Article 88-4 of the Constitution. Sources and notes: (1) ‘Assembly Resolutions’: Annual statistical bulletins of the National Assembly. Only one resolution per text has been counted. 88-4 resolutions only. (2) ‘Senate Resolutions’ and ‘88-4 documents sent’: http://www.senat.fr/ europe/dpue-bilan.html. 2013/14 = data for the year 2014. (3) ‘Proposed directives’: Eur-lex rose to nearly one thousand. In parallel, the European Commission has tended to propose fewer texts, for reasons which remain poorly understood. Therefore, draft directives and resolutions which by volume constitute half of documents transmitted to the Assemblies count for no more than 5% of texts. Since the creation of this legislative instrument, the Assembly has adopted an average of 12 resolutions per year, and the Senate, 11. The change in the number of European resolutions adopted by the Assembly can be divided into two stages. After a dynamic launch in 1994, the implementation of 88-4 trended downward until the beginning of the 2000s, with only five resolutions in the election year of 2001/2002. In the second stage, the number rose progressively. The Senate is also more active since 2011. The two Assemblies’ tendency towards convergence has its basis, to a great extent, in the constitutional revision of 2008. The standing orders reforms which followed the revision allowed the adoption 28 O. ROZENBERG of resolutions to be accelerated and reinforced the two European Affairs Committees’ control over the process. Where once in the name of efficiency committees were limited to communicating simple conclusions to the government, they now are encouraged to propose resolutions. Ultimately, it appears that resolutions, as parliamentary instruments, have been perpetually used in the two Assemblies. The novelty trap anticipated by Carcassonne has been avoided. Specialised procedures have not been used in a totally continuous fashion, but they have not been neglected since 1992 and have increased due to regulatory strengthening. The European Affairs Committees’ activities make up 10% of total Assembly activities, taking into account the number and duration of meetings and hearings. The same proportion holds for the reports presented by the Delegation of the Assembly from 1997 to 2002. The Delegation presented 9.5% of the 1454 reports under this legislature, and its 27 rapporteurs accounted for 9.4% of the total number of MPs who submitted at least one report. This one-in-10 proportion is an approximation of the frequency of specialised activities in European affairs in the Assembly. The ratio is like that proposed by various studies attempting to measure quan- titatively the impact of European legislation on French law or on the French Parliament’s legislative activities. Completely refuting Jacques Delors’ prediction that 80% of all legislation would be issued from the European community, different studies set the ratio between about 10 to 15% during the 2000s (Bertoncini 2009; Brouard et al. 2012; Fekl 2010). Despite the difficulty and roughness of approximations in these assess- ments, we may assert that the French Parliament’s oversight activities in European matters are close to the normative impact of European texts in domestic law.

A Parliament That Bears Comparison As a final step in evaluating the French Parliament’s European activities, we will turn to a comparison with other parliaments. From 2011 to 2014, the Observatory of National Parliaments After Lisbon, or OPAL, brought together several European universities to study this question. Noting that European prerogatives in assemblies are not always used, Katrin Auel, Angela Tacea and I measured the precise level of activity in the 40 European national parliamentary chambers. First, we compiled an index of institutional prerogatives, taking into account 12 types of variables 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 29 grouped into three equally important categories: access to information, scrutiny infrastructure, and the legal effects of parliamentary oversight.22 An index of European activities was also formulated around five types of variables: the number of European resolutions, the cumulative duration of European affairs committee meetings, the frequency and proportion of European debates dedicated to EU questions on the floor, the frequency of legal opinions sent to the European Commission, and the frequency of the European Affairs Committee’s hearings of the Prime Minister. The data were collected over three years, from 2010 to 2012.23 Table 2.1 com- pares the French Assemblies’ and certain European counterparts’ averages, using institutional indices in the first section and indices of six different types of European activities in the second section. Figure 2.6 ranks the 40 parliamentary chambers on each of the two indices, by institutional measure and by measure of activity. In terms of institutional prerogatives, the two French Assemblies stand above the European average, due mainly to their extensive access to confidential information. The Senate’s slightly more favourable position— 12th out of 40 assemblies, whereas the National Assembly is 13th—is explained by the fact that the index incorporates the ratio of European Affairs Committee members to constituents of the entire chamber: 8% in the Assembly and 10% in the Senate over the relevant period. The number of parliamentary clerks, difficult to verify, is not considered in calculating the ranking. However, a 2013 COSAC report allows us to calculate the average number of clerks per European Affairs Committee at 11 for 35 of the chambers. The two French Assemblies employ about the same number of clerks, far fewer than does the Bundestag.24 Concerning European activities, the situation is replete with greater contrasts. Overall, the two Assemblies do not differ widely from the European average: The National Assembly (17th) is slightly more active than the Senate (22nd). A similar gap is found in the majority of the 13 bicameral European parliaments. The two European Affairs Committees are relatively active compared to their counterparts. The Assemblies together hold a rank closer to the average in number of adopted resolutions and in debates on the floor, though the comparison for these types of activities is a more delicate task. However, if we focus only on debates dedicated to European Councils, the National Assembly, along with the lower Dutch, German and Irish chambers and the Danish Folketing, figures as one of the assemblies that most systematically organises plenary Table 2.1 European prerogatives and activities in different parliamentary chambers, per-year averages from 2010–2012

Prerogatives Activities

Access to Infrastructure Influence OPAL Resolutions EAC EAC Plenary Political Opinions on OPAL information institutional meetings meetings debates dialogue subsidiarity activity index (number) (in hours) index National 0.67 0.47 0.5 0.55 11.7 45.7 91:20 9.7 0.7 0.7 0.21 Assembly Senate 0.67 0.5 0.5 0.56 19.7 46.3 55:56 9 3.3 5 0.16 EU average 0.59 0.44 0.43 0.49 33.9 43.5 66:06 13.3 11.2 1.4 0.21 Lower 0.62 0.43 0.44 0.5 27.2 41 62:50 17.6 5.3 1.3 0.2 chambers av. Higher 0.53 0.44 0.35 0.44 23.7 42.1 60:29 13.4 13.8 1.5 0.17 chambers av. Europe of 0.53 0.47 0.42 0.48 26 51 71:52 15.3 15.9 1.5 0.22 twelve av. National 14th 20th 13th 13th 27th 15th 8th 18th 35th 18th 17th Assembly Senate 14th 14th 13th 12th 22nd 14th 20th 19th 16th 14th 23rd Bundestag 1st 5th 4th 2nd 12th 27th 10th 3rd 19th 18th 5th (Germany) Commons 24th 15th 13th 17th 14th 11th 14th 7th 26th 4th 27th (UK) Chamber 31st 21st 7th 22th 15th 2rd 11th 9th 7th 18th 9th (Italy)

Note: The ‘prerogative’ variables are indices between 0 and 1 calculated from different rights attributed to assemblies. The activities are given as an absolute value. EAC = European Affairs Committee. Italian Chamber = lower house Source: Auel et al. (2015) 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 31

0.7

0.6 FI SE

0.5

0.4 DK PT CZ2 DE1

Activities 0.3 NL1 EE IT1 UK2 LT IT2 DE2 ES2 ES1 AT1 0.2 average SK National Assembly BE1 SI1 BE2 RO1 LU PL1 Senate IE1 UK1 LV RO2 AT2 0.1 IE2 BG HU CZ1 EL CY PL2 MT NL2 SI2 0 0.1 0.2 0.3 0.4 0.5 0.60.7 0.80.9 Institutional prerogatives

Fig. 2.6 European parliamentary chambers ranked by prerogatives and activity level in European matters (2010–2012). Note: 1 = lower chamber; 2 = higher chamber; AT = Austria; BE = Belgium; BG = Bulgaria; CZ = Czech Republic; DK = Denmark; DE = Germany; EE = Estonia; IE = Ireland; EL = Greece; ES = Spain; IT = Italy; CY = Cyprus; LV = Latvia; LT = Lithuania; LU = Luxembourg; HU = Hungary; MT = Malta; NL = Netherlands; PL = Poland; PT = Portugal; RO = Romania; SI = Slovenia; SK = Slovakia; FI = Finland; SE = Sweden; UK = United Kingdom. Source: Auel et al. (2015) debates before the summits (Wessels and Rozenberg 2013). After them, French MPs, like those of the Bundestag, prefer that the Foreign Affairs Minister (or another minister) report during joint hearings before several committees. Finally, concerning opinions sent to the European Commission through the informal channels of political dialogue25 or opinions on the subsidiarity principle, the two chambers have diverged in their choices (Thomas and Tacea 2015). Like other parliaments in Europe, including powerful chambers such as the German Bundestag or the Finnish Eduskunta, the National Assembly is not very active in this domain. MPs’ potential willingness to act is discouraged by the adoption procedure of opinions on subsidiarity. Modelled on the resolution procedure specified in Article 88-4, this provides for review in the European Affairs Committee, then (possibly) in a standing committee, and subsequently (likewise possibly) on the floor. Given the time periods granted at each stage, the European Affairs Committee can use only two weeks de facto 32 O. ROZENBERG out of the eight weeks accorded to parliaments by the Lisbon treaty for submitting an opinion. The Senate has used this possibility more extensively by creating an informal structure within the European Affairs Committee responsible for detecting possible violations of the subsidiarity principle. In summation, in the period from 2010 to 2012 the two French Assemblies were close to European averages in terms of their formal prerogatives as well as their actual activities. Figure 2.6 shows, furthermore, that the relationship between their prerogatives and activities is close to the average observed in Europe, unlike for example in the case of Czech MPs, who have greater rights than they exercise, or that of the Portuguese Parliament, which is in the opposite situation. This result is significant in view of the usual classifications produced by comparative legislative studies. Such studies, numerous and sometimes mutually contradictory, agree universally on the French Parliament’s position at the bottom of the scale. From a constitutional perspective alone, French legislative power is at a deficit when the particular prerogatives of the head of state, whom the Assembly cannot censure, are taken into account (Woldendorp et al. 2000). By enlarging their focus with not less than 32 institutional criteria relating to the relationship between the executive and legislative, Steven Fish and Matthew Kroenig place 24 European parliaments in their index in a range from 0.63 (Portugal) to 0.84 (Germany and Italy) (Fish and Kroenig 2009). In short, the French Parliament is one of the weakest in Europe in general, while specifically in European matters it is near the average. It can therefore be distinguished from many other assemblies, as comparative literature has established that the acquisition of EU prerogatives usually reflected the domestic constitutional balances (Karlas 2012; Raunio 2005; Winzen 2017). It is difficult to distinguish to what extent this gap is due to national or European factors. On the one hand, constitutional blocks and restrictions on domestic subjects may have bolstered MPs’ motivation to claim prerogatives in European matters. Additionally, the European route constitutes a rare possibility for the executive branch to demonstrate its willingness to modernise the Fifth Republic. Indeed, as we will consider in the following section, European adaptation is still restricted in several ways. The Europeanisation of French Parliament was therefore even more acceptable to the executive branch in that it did not threaten the latter’s pre-eminence in European matters. The competition between both 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 33

Assemblies, on the EU as for other topics, also led them to devote important resources to the scrutiny of EU files. On the other hand, there were also genuinely European factors in the French Parliament’s European dynamic, especially the improbable strategic convergence, considered in the previous section, between Europe’s most ardent supporters and its fiercest critics. As noted by Thomas Winzen, the obtaining of legal prerogatives was favoured by the inter-governmental views of domestic elites (rather than Federalist ones) (Winzen 2017). In that sense, the Gaullist and neo-Gaullist MPs–who were more Eurosceptic than most of their right-wing counterparts in Western Europe—actually played a key role in the reforms of the Constitution and standing orders in France. Yet, many other European factors may have contributed to the Europeanisation of both Assemblies: France’s leadership role in construct- ing Europe, the long history of partisan disagreements on the subject starting with the Gaullists and the Communists in the 1950s, the public visibility—aided by Mitterrand and Delors—of the relaunching of the European project in the mid-1980s, the unexpectedly short gap in the Maastricht referendum in 1992, the stark popular rejections of the constitutional treaty in 2005, and so on. The factors contributing to the Europeanisation of the French Parliament therefore include both national constitutional constraints and the country’s relationship with the European integration project. These factors explain why the National Assembly and the Senate are, on paper at least, not as weak in European matters as they are in other fields of activity.

Subjective Assessment: When Parliament Gets Blue This quantitative and comparative assessment is somewhat misleading. A more qualitative perspective greatly attenuates the overall positive impression. It seems necessary to adopt some degree of subjectivity on this point: since one cannot truly analyse an organisation without relying on specific performance criteria, it behoves us to present these factors in detail. Following the example of Guy Carcassonne’s masterful definition of the conditions of democratic modernity (Carcassonne and Guillaume 2014, p. 22ff), I propose three criteria for judging the democratic quality of a parliamentary activity, whether it concerns oversight or legislation. A parliamentary activity is more successful when: (a) it involves a significant number of politicians, (b) it involves them directly and personally, and (c) it has an impact outside of Parliament, especially on the executive or on 34 O. ROZENBERG the public. The rest of the chapter will discuss these successive elements within the French Parliament’s European activities.

Legation: The European Affairs Committee Cut Off from Parliament Legation is a type of diplomatic representation in a country where there is no embassy. Metaphorically, legation provides an appropriate analogy to the European Affairs Committees. Not only do they lack the prestige of the standing committees, just as a legation lacks that of an embassy, but also they tend to monopolise a good portion of European affairs within the Assemblies, as if they were diplomatic questions exclusive to a privileged circle. As testaments to this impression of exclusivity, we cite parliamentarians who do not belong to these structures, and note their absence from different debates or hearings concerning Europe. I particularly sought to interview certain MPs who did not belong to the EU Delegation/Committee. The members of the Foreign Affairs Committee (who are responsible for examining European treaties) and all standing committees’ chairs were asked for comments, as were certain other politicians involved in particular cases, such as in the hunting laws case. Their remarks reveal a feeling of estrangement from European affairs and a perception of the Delegation, which one Vice-Speaker of the Assembly calls ‘the committee to the European delegation’, as a separate club. Insert 2.1 provides verbatim quotes of politicians of all party affiliations, whether critical or supportive of European integration, from interviews conducted in the beginning of the 2000s. These words are in some ways confirmed by Delegation members who frequently observe a sort of disinterest, or even incompetence, on the part of their non-member colleagues. The perspectives of a Gaullist MP, René André, and of the Socialist Gérard Fuchs converge:

R. André: And yet I’ve always followed these European questions which— you must know this for most of our colleagues, perhaps you don’t measure it outside this house—are practically unknown issues because of the complexity of the language concerning European mechanisms and even concepts. If you asked different colleagues on the lobbies to explain what the first, second and third pillars are, and the impossibility of building bridges between these pil- 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 35

lars or to transfer a file from one pillar to another, they wouldn’t be capable of telling you. G. Fuchs: The creation of the delegations was a step forward in that it hadn’t been dealt with elsewhere. But in practice, it has margin-

Insert 2.1 Excerpts of interviews with non-specialised MPs in European Affairs relating to the oversight of European questions by the National Assembly26

Brard (PC) ‘What is the role of Parliament in European matters? MPs could have a role, but they don’t. The Delegation is useless. It doesn’t have power. It only has power to be informed. When we vote on a levy for the European budget, they explain that we must vote on it, but we can’t change anything.’ Cambadélis ‘What is the European dimension of your activities as an MP? (PS) As an MP, none, to be honest. […] As a “lambda” parliamentarian, you can spend five years with only brief relations with European questions from time to time’. Charasse ‘We have the impression that we don’t count for very much in the European (radical) integration or the development of Europe. I am a federalist, and as a federalist, I have the impression of carrying insufficient weight in the progress of European construction…and I have the impression that there are still more voters and citizens who, wherever they are, but in particular in Parliament, who don’t have sufficient possibilities to influence this project’. de Courson ‘Parliament’s procedure of association with European affairs serves to make (UDF) you feel important, which is not the case’. Dumont ‘As an MP, how do you see your role concerning European affairs? (PS) Well, as an MP, the difficulty we have is that, since we’ve created a Delegation for European Affairs which is transversal, with MPs from all the standing committees […] in fact, we’ve recreated—how to put it—a little group of MP specialists on this question. I’m not part of the Delegation. In the end, it enriches the rest of the National Assembly very little’. Le Garrec ‘Generally, I consider that the connection between the National Assembly and (PS) what happens on the European level is not sufficiently close. In the final account, we only see these links when we must adopt directives or adjust laws, and then we do it—in general France is always very far behind—and so, one fine day we pass some text without prior reflection or true debate. I find that the European factor is not sufficiently present in debates’. Guinchard- ‘There are our European delegations, the committees to the European Kunstler delegation, but they’re a small number of MPs. All MPs should be concerned (PS) with Europe, but for the time being, that’s not the case. And what is the reason for that? Because we’re involved…To be an MP, you work in a state of urgency all the time, but never on essentials—and as Europe is essential, we don’t work on it. We work on what’s immediate, on what’s urgent. The work on fundamentals doesn’t get done’. 36 O. ROZENBERG

alised the problem in the sense that it has made European problems the concern of, to put it nicely, about 20 parliamentarians (out of 577, not very many) and that has rather exacerbated the distance of other parliamentarians from the question. I find it unsatisfactory in this regard.

The weak level of parliamentarians’ Europe-related mobilisation outside of European Affairs committees and delegations can be evaluated in four types of procedures. 1. The legislative procedure potentially applies to a variety of European texts: ratification of treaties, review of the Constitution (before ratifying treaties), transposition of directives or approval of the French contribution to the European budget. Generally, these sittings have occasioned weak levels of involvement within the Assemblies, except for the 1992 revision. The benches are as sparsely populated as during ordinary sessions, including for the ratification of treaties. Rapporteurs evince little enthusiasm. The former European Affairs minister, Pierre Moscovici, recalls the low level of participation at the ratification debates over the treaties of Amsterdam and Nice:

It’s truly a spectacle… I mean, it’s outrageous… Responding in front of 30 parliamentarians that we can’t accept these treaties being passed by referendum because we must respect Parliament’s sovereignty, well, it’s completely crazy. It is truly absurd. Because if the French knew that in reality no one votes on these texts, no one examines them, no one monitors them, it wouldn’t exactly improve their image of Parliament, and with reason!

On the subject of the first review of the French contribution to the Community budget in 1992, Yves Mény pointed out that, while the Parliament had obtained significant strengthening of its prerogatives during the constitutional revision in May before the adoption of the Maastricht treaty, only eight MPs were present on the floor in October to discuss the budget (Mény 1993, p. 134). Eight years later, on 19 October 2000, we observed that the situation had not changed. While France presided over the European Council, just as an intergovernmental conference was taking place and a Council had just been held at Biarritz, some 20 MPs—about 15 from the leftist majority and five from the opposition—attended the discussion in the afternoon of 19 October 2000 on the draft finance law for the year 2001, related to the allotment of the European Communities budget. The speeches by the orators, who belonged almost without excep- 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 37 tion to the Delegation for the EU, were highly technical and the debates rather lacklustre, with a large part of the small gathering of MPs resorting to perusal of Le Monde. 2. Parliamentary questions relevant to European issues arise infrequently. As MPs’ questions are compiled in an index, it is possible to track those questions with European aspects in the Assembly database using the tag ‘European Union’.27 If one considers all kinds of oral questions, then 40 to 100 European questions are raised orally by MPs during parliamentary term on the floor over the period 1993–2015, which represents 1.2% of the four to six thousand total questions asked by term. The proportion of written questions, which often carry a strong local dimension, is even lower at 0.3%. These figures may be low estimates, leaving out non- explicitly or non-exclusively European aspects of many questions. However, they are close to the 3 to 4% of European questions evaluated by another study based on 350,000 questions asked during the 1988–2007 period (Navarro and Brouard 2014). Whatever the exact figure, it is a far cry from the 10% proportion of parliamentary activities dedicated to European affairs referred to in the previous section. However, many efforts have been made to address specific oral questions to European issues. In 2000, the Chairman of the Delegation A. Barrau succeeded in having some question times dedicated to European questions. In 2000 and 2001, on three occasions, one hour was set aside for about 10 questions each time. The first of these sittings, on 18 October 2000, contrasts with the previously mentioned budgetary debate’s lack of intensity the following day. The floor was less empty and noisier. The Minister of the Environment, Dominique Voynet, was heckled when she responded to a question on the Habitats Directive addressed to Prime Minister Jospin. Socialist MPs pointed at former Prime Minister Alain Juppé when Laurent Fabius, Minister of the Economy and Finance, denounced the previous government’s legacy. The session, though relatively well attended, was barely controlled. The MP Gilles Carrez, while he was using his question to attack what he viewed as lax management of public finances, was interrupted by Socialist MPs with cries of ‘Off-topic!’ and ‘What about Europe?’ Voicing his question while the floor was practically empty of right-wing MPs, Alain Barrau remarked, ‘Clearly, we have progress to make collectively, since no one has understood that the purpose of this working hour was to talk together, with our different visions of Europe and European issues’. Different ways of addressing Europe through oral questions were then tested and left. Since 2013, oral questions on EU issues are organised before some European 38 O. ROZENBERG

Councils. Those sittings are judged severely by some MPs, one of whom stated in 2015: ‘The attendance of our colleagues to those sessions is lower and the issues addressed are more and more remote from EU issues’.28 3. Debates may be organised on the floor. These sittings may be relevant to discussion of and votes on resolutions proposed in the framework of Article 88-4 of the Constitution, or, more recently, of Article 88-6 about reasoned opinions on respect for subsidiarity. With an average of 2.6 per year in the Assembly (1994–2014), resolutions are rarely discussed on the floor. A greater number of resolutions were considered in the first years after the establishment of resolutions. Fifteen such debates were held in 1994, but since 1999, the number of resolutions discussed on the floor has fallen between zero and three, or an average of less than 10% of all adopted resolutions. Concerning debates on European issues, as for oral questions, the Assemblies long sought a way to convoke a sufficient number of parliamentarians. Carcassonne, parliamentary legal counsel to Michel Rocard from 1988 to 1991, explains that the Prime Minister had committed to organising at least one sitting per session on European affairs, but that this debate, which had been demanded for years, brought together ‘less than fifty MPs at the beginning of the sitting, and fewer than ten remained by the end’ (Carcassonne and Guillaume 2014, p. 393). Therefore, the commitment made in 1989 by the Speaker of the Assembly, Laurent Fabius, to hold a biannual debate was finally abandoned in 1992 (Hochedez and Patriarche 1998, p. 42). In 1993, the Assembly’s involvement in European affairs was a priority for its new Speaker, the sovereigntist Philippe Séguin. In October 1994, the Conference of Assembly Presidents decided that once per month the beginning of the Tuesday sitting would be dedicated to a European subject. This decision was applied twice, in November and December 1994, only to be abandoned afterwards. Since the end of the 2000s, plenary debates before European Council meetings have become more frequent although they have not become the general rule. Three to four are organised each year. They offer the chance to the Prime Minister, or else the Foreign Affairs Minister, to present the outlines of the executive branch’s European policy. These debates preceding the Councils were the object of a rather unflattering judgment by the Balladur committee on the modernisation of institutions.29 The committee’s report describes them as ‘a succession of speeches without a vote which do not permit national representation to weigh or strengthen the government’s choices in the daily exercise of its negotiating authority’.30 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 39

Moreover, since the 2008 Constitutional revision provided for one week per month dedicated to oversight and evaluation, the Assembly’s standing orders arrange ‘one sitting reserved for European questions within this week’ (Art. 48-8). In 2015, a report of the EU committee of the Assembly said it was urgent to ‘renovate debates before European Councils whose attraction has lowered over recent years’.31 These debates, infrequent until recently, still occur most often in front of nearly empty benches. Europe is certainly not the only issue that falls victim to parliamentary absenteeism, but it seems to me that the latter is more of a problem regarding oversight activities. When a bill must be amended, we can expect a small group of competent, motivated MPs to be more efficient. In contrast, to discuss the future of France and Europe, a more expansive involvement would harm neither the scope nor the quality of the debate. A detailed account from the Assembly debate on 9 May 2000, dedicated to the French presidency of the EU, illustrates this point. Held two months before the beginning of the presidency, the sitting certainly helped to publicise it. Big names in politics participated: Prime Minister Lionel Jospin and former President Valéry Giscard d’Estaing (then an MP) spoke before the heads of all political parties and no less than three former prime ministers. However, the session also illustrated the limits of parliamentary involvement in European matters: two hours after the beginning of the sitting, no more than 10% of the 150 politicians initially present remained. The MPs’ constant comings and goings indicated that many members of a coalition tended to leave after their party leader’s speeches, to the point where after Alain Juppé’s speech, the Speaker Raymond Forni exclaimed, ‘No one is forcing you to leave the hemicycle, my dear colleagues!’ The contrast is significant between the afternoon sittings—reserved for big names and/or chairs of different parliamentary structures—with the night sittings. During the latter, backbenchers switch out every five or ten minutes in front of an audience of 20 or so colleagues, all of whom are waiting to speak before they can leave to sleep. Following debates from the gallery, I had the impression that the members of the Delegation, who were overrepresented, had taken over the floor to hold their own meeting. Just past midnight, the two ministers, Hubert Védrine and Pierre Moscovici congratulated themselves on the parliamentary representatives’ adherence to the government’s European policy, in response to speeches given by MPs who had mostly already left long before. Barrau’s energetic organisation of the sitting, Forni’s support, and the Prime Minister’s willingness to stay on the floor for three 40 O. ROZENBERG hours were not enough to generate a dynamic of involvement in European debate among the backbenchers. 4. Meetings of parliamentary groups can also be the occasion for European debates, as we shall see when discussing the Rally for the Republic party’s position on a resolution relating to the changeover to euros.32 As the meetings are closed to the press and the public, it is difficult to know what is said in them. However, Moscovici recalls with some bitterness the rare occasions—about once per year during his term as Minister of European Affairs—when he spoke in closed-door meetings before the socialist group:

Each time I had made a statement, I felt dissatisfied afterwards. As happy as I was to go to the Delegation, because there you encounter MPs who are involved and so on, in the socialist group, the point was nevertheless the last thing on the agenda. MPs had left. Those who stayed were distracted. The questions were without interest. This absolutely illustrates—and these are my Socialist friends, I think they’re better than the others, naturally—the fact that on average, MPs’ sense of European culture is rather weak. And that the attention that a party gives them, especially when they are in power, is very weak. And frankly, it was a third wheel; I had to go see the socialist group four times in five years, and none of these hearings were closely followed, serious, interesting or involved.

In the end, the evaluation of non-specialised European activities is generally negative. Question times diverted from European subjects, sparsely attended European debate sessions, and quickly-dissipating group debates attest to the difficulty of politicising parliamentary review of European questions. Some progress has been made since then, with the debates preceding the European Council meetings for example, but problems linked to procedural and organisational specialisation remain. Outside the legations of the European Affairs Committees, the EU is considered only piecemeal in Parliament. Article 88-4 effectively created a club which, though functional, does not solve the problem of expanding parliamentary debate in the Assemblies. As Moscovici remarks: ‘We’re not here to form a club, we’re here to make politics.

Delegation: The Importance of Administrators and Assistants Parliamentarians delegate part of their allotted tasks. The process is long- standing but, due to various causes, has grown in the past few decades with increased recruitment of parliamentary clerks and personal and 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 41 group assistants. Though delegation is a general practice, it is difficult to measure, insofar as the parliamentarian, elected by the people, is the only legitimate actor in the Assemblies. The delegation process is less hidden within the executive power, whose activity depends on a powerful and hierarchical bureaucratic apparatus. The interviews of European Affairs Committees’ clerks reveal an extensive degree of delegation in sorting received European documents and composing reports. Clerks at the Assembly classify documents into three levels according to their political importance. Our interviewees note that politicians themselves only rarely review classification proposals that have been submitted to them. This is a sign not necessarily of lack of interest on the part of the politicians, but rather of the clerks’ ability to grasp what is politically important. If they have doubts, clerks prefer to flag potentially important documents. A recent survey quantified the extent of delegation by counting the EU legal drafts that are unmentioned in the European affairs Committee reports and those that are only mentioned with no further scrutiny (Finke and Herbel 2015). With a mean of 73% of documents falling into those two categories, the two Assemblies of the French Parliament are located far below Italy and Germany (less than 40%), assuming this comparison is applicable. From Jospin’s government (1997–2002) to Ayrault’s (2012–14), the attention to EU affairs has increased but remains comparatively low. Concerning reports, the parliamentarian(s) in charge generally hold early discussions with the designated clerk. They establish priorities and possibly an outline, as well as a list of hearings and field trips. Hearings are one of the rare activities that cannot be delegated. The administrator alone then composes the draft report. A disheartened clerk confided to us: ‘Sometimes, MPs don’t even change a comma, or else they change just one comma’ (I50).33 In other cases, the parliamentarian is more invested, asking for corrections or rewriting conclusions or draft resolutions. For about the past 20 years, it has been extremely rare for politicians themselves to take on a major part of the drafting. Often, an emergency of some type forces MPs to neglect a report to which they are signatories. Here is an excerpt from a conversation with a clerk, who appears anonymously here:

I’m working on a report on France’s contribution to the European budget. The day before yesterday, XXX found out at the last minute that he had to accompany Juppé34 to Moscow, so he would not even be present for the presentation of the report in the Delegation. All told, the report will come out and XXX will 42 O. ROZENBERG

not even have read it, despite it bearing his name, and the report defends certain particularly strong positions in favour of a European tax and large projects. (I50)

A more recent episode that illustrates the related phenomena of under- investment and delegation was provided by a 2015 internship report from within the European affairs service. The author, whose anonymity we have preserved, writes therein:

It would sometimes happen that I worked for an MP without receiving a single instruction or political guideline from him. Therefore, I was entirely free to orient arguments in a direction that seemed right to me. When the MP does not master the file, any piece of information or argument might seem well-founded to him or her […] Within the European Affairs Committee, a good number of MPs do not seem interested or involved in European politics. However, the latter’s complexity necessitates a minimum level of investment. In attending committee meetings, one realises that only a handful of MPs are truly invested in and concerned with European activity. A large majority never attends the committee meetings and does not participate in its life.

Delegating competencies is standard and in many ways advantageous for an organisation as complex as a Parliament. Nevertheless, it seems to me that in European matters, the process is both (objectively) more pronounced and (normatively) more problematic. It is more pronounced because parliamentarians are generally less numerous in the European Affairs Committees than in standing committees, where presence has been monitored more closely for the past several years and absenteeism therefore has been more visible. Interviews show that the core of active members in the European Affairs Committees (formerly Delegations) is generally made up of 10 to 15 people. For some meetings, the number is lower. Politicians concerned with a sector, for example the CAP, may attend according to the day’s agenda. Henri Nallet, the Chairman of the Delegation in 1997, had harsh words to say about his colleagues’ level of participation and competence:

I’m having trouble finding anything good to say about my parliamentarian colleagues who were, in my opinion, very, very deficient on these questions. When I chaired the Delegation, I did so with strength and dedication; I was always there, always present for the two entire years. How many parliamentarians were there who really knew anything, who were interested, who were present? 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 43

[Pause.] Bah. Listen, honestly… there were 10. Ten and still… Out of those 10, not all of them knew what they were doing. Ten were interested, and of those, the ones who had knowledge of the Community apparatus… honestly, four or five. That means that the task of review… It doesn’t interest them. It doesn’t interest them.

The ratio of active parliamentarians to dedicated clerks is nearly one to one in European services—a fact unique within the Assemblies. Furthermore, MPs and Senators are particularly inclined to delegation because European Affairs Committees’ activities are not legislative in nature. Since there are opportunities to prepare or negotiate amendments, the stakes are seen as less crucial. Finally, the tendency to delegate is necessarily strengthened by the great number of European documents—a thousand per year—that must be dealt with. Though it may in some ways be more logical, the pronounced trend toward delegation is no less problematic, taking into consideration the normative expectations that accompanied the Europeanisation of national parliaments. Not only were parliaments meant to gain the ability to defend their points of view, through them the supposedly opaque, technocratic, diplomatic European decision-making system was meant to be politicised, publicised, and pluralised. The added value from national parliaments’ empowerment rested on the expectation that the parliamentarians themselves would take charge of certain files. Because of the complexity of European projects and of certain politicians’ lack of motivation, there is a great risk of merely doubling Brussels’ bureaucracy with that of national parliaments. From a comparative point of view, civil servants in most national parliaments act as agenda-shapers (Högenauer and Neuhold 2015). The parliamentarians’ lack of personal investment can also be recognised when focussing on activities that cannot be delegated: attending hearings and addressing oral questions on the floor. On the first point, the Delegation’s hearing of Romano Prodi on 13 March 2003 provides a rather painful example of parliamentary absenteeism. This was a significant event for Parliament’s European activities. A President of the European Commission had never been heard at the Assembly. The European and international context was particularly tense and important: The Convention was beginning to draft the future European Constitution, and the European Commission had just undertaken legal proceedings against France for non-respect of the stability pact. Jacques Chirac had announced his intention two days before to veto American intervention in Iraq at the UN Security Council. The hearing was open to the press 44 O. ROZENBERG and public. At 16:15, when Prodi arrived with Lequiller, President of the Delegation, François Bayrou—an important centre-right politician—was the only MP present. At 16:20, the MPs began to trickle in one by one and to be presented to the President of the Commission. At 16:25, as the hearing began, 17 MPs were in the hall. Prodi gave his speech in French, without beating around the bush, in a room of less than 20 politicians. Thirteen years later little had changed. On 5 October 2016, only three MPs within the European Affairs Committee questioned the commissioner for Health and Food Safety. Two months after that, her colleague for Competition, Margrethe Vestager, was jointly heard by the Economic, Finance and European Affairs Committees. This leading figure in the Commission, dealing with key files, was heard by just 10 MPs due to the choice of the day (Thursday) and a floor debate on abortion at the same time.35 Two hours later, a similar hearing took place in the Senate with a higher number of Senators (19). Parliamentary work can also be delegated to collaborators employed directly by the party or by an MP. Party assistants are not especially numerous; there is never more than one per party to monitor European files, and the assistant’s portfolio may include other sectors. Those on the right as well as the left whom I interviewed in 2003 emphasised parliamentarians’ lack of interest in question sessions focused on European subjects:

When a topical question is concerned with Europe, I help the MP to write it. Ninety-five percent of the time, they use what I wrote word for word. It depends whether the MP has asked to deliver the question, or whether he has been assigned to do so by the party group meeting. (I69)

I deal with monthly topical questions on Europe, which have been written into standing orders for the past three months. I propose a list of questions to the MPs and it’s up to them to choose one. But usually, they choose the one I suggest without modifying it. (I68)

[On the monthly question session] It’s a fiasco. We don’t know what kind of questions to ask. It’s a pain in the ass, because we don’t necessarily have a question on Europe to ask. (I70)

Relegation: Limited Impact After legation and delegation, relegation is the third aspect of our subjective assessment. European affairs are consigned to a rather obscure consti- 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 45 tutional structure and delegated to numerous competent clerks. They are also pigeonholed within public life because the impact of reports, resolutions, and parliamentary debates on France’s European policy remains limited. This book will provide several germane analyses, but her I will simply report the opinions of political players on this question from a parliamentary and governmental perspective. When MP members of the Delegation to the EU were interviewed in the beginning of the 2000s, their judgements were particularly severe. Insert 2.2 presents a panoply of right- and left-wing politicians’ various opinions on the European integration. Those who sat on the Delegation at the time they were interviewed were severe in their judgements. It is perhaps wise to put their representativeness

Insert 2.2 Excerpts of interviews with MP members of the Delegation to the EU about the National Assembly’s oversight of European questions

Marie- ‘What do you think of this Delegation to the EU? Hélène On the one hand we work a lot, write a lot of reports, examine many texts; Aubert unfortunately, I often have the feeling that nobody cares very much. I mean (Greens) that the MPs can say what they want about this or that text, but I don’t have the feeling that this has a major effect on ministers’ positions or on negotiations’. Yves Dauge ‘The Delegation is drowning under highly technical texts that are difficult to (PS) master for parliamentarians such as me, in particular. Well, certain subjects, yes, but I must say, in my own experience, we spend an enormous part of our time at the Delegation flipping through the documents that come to us. We give our opinions without really having the time to see them, and if we did have time, we wouldn’t be able to give an opinion’. Gaëtan ‘Okay, first of all there is an avalanche of regulations and directives on which Gorce (PS) we are obviously incapable of systemically giving an opinion. It’s impossible to keep up with the pace. What’s more, these are particularly dense, technical documents on wide-ranging subjects…’ Elisabeth ‘What interests me most is the general influence of the French Parliament Guigou on European matters. I have specific questions, but can you give me a (PS) general idea of your point of view? It’s non-existent’. Jean-Claude ‘We are responsible for overseeing government action. Yet the European Lefort (PC) domain is not part of that. We see it with the compulsory levy for the European Communities every year. In every country, parliamentarians don’t have the right to touch it. We organise a debate and a vote, but in any case, it has to be done. Every year, I propose my amendment in favour of a lowering of the budget by 10%, corresponding to the 10% rate of fraud. But it can never pass’.

(continued) 46 O. ROZENBERG

Insert 2.2 (continued)

Pierre ‘And don’t you think that, nevertheless, power of oversight by the MPs Lellouche sometimes exists, or…On the European Union? (RPR) Yes. Listen, I sit on the European Delegation. We can’t say that oversight by the Delegation is… is strong or serious. First, we don’t have the means. Not only that, we only have a consultative power on draft directives, and only when it isn’t urgent. Because if they stamp “urgent” on their mail, we see nothing at all’. Maurice ‘Except when the stakes are high or there’s a big vote, parliamentarians are not Ligot very interested at all in Europe’. (UDF) Jacques ‘National parliaments in Europe—to simplify a bit, and not to be Myard provocative—I would say that they count for nothing today, or almost nothing. (RPR) Certainly, 88-4 exists, certainly the government presents, or rather organises general orientation debates on Europe within the Assembly; there have even been questions to the government that were totally dedicated to Europe. But all that, I would say, is still only opinion without consequence. That is to say, the government pursues a policy, the Parliament says its opinion more or less, and then things move along’. Christian ‘On the negative side, I’d say—and this isn’t related to its working methods— Philip that objectively, the Delegation has no influence. But the same is true in other (UMP) Parliaments’ European committees, except maybe in certain Scandinavian countries. We have no influence on the creation of Community laws. We are informed, they ask our opinion—often at the last minute—and we can only say “yes” with a few generalities that no one pays attention to or even looks at’.

in perspective, not primarily due to the passage of time, as in the following section, but because of the selective bias in the interview process. The MPs who granted me an interview on the subject of ‘Europe at the French Parliament’ were more likely, a priori, to express specific expectations and consequent disappointments on the subject. The fact remains that they are disappointed, as are their colleagues. A great number of their grievances stem Delegation’s lack of importance and ability to draw interest within the National Assembly. Indeed, a certain lack of credibility is perceptible in parliamentary groups’ strategies in selecting members to join this structure. While the two Assemblies’ regulations stipulate that the European Affairs Committee must ensure ‘balanced’ representation drawn from members of the standing committees, the considerations of politicians’ seniority and political importance generally prevail. Compositional imbal- 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 47 ances result in both the Assembly and the Senate committees. The Assembly Committee from the 2012 elections, for example, had only three members from the Finance Committee, although the budget and European files were interconnected as never before. Only two were drawn from the powerful Law Committee. The ministers’ point of view complements that of the parliamentarians. On this subject, the opinion of the Junior Minister to European Affairs is particularly interesting as he or she is one of the government officials with whom the European Affairs Committees are most in contact. Pierre Moscovici held this position for the duration of the Jospin government from 1997 to 2002. The future European commissioner was interviewed several months after the end of this government’s term. He spoke openly of the limited impact of Parliament’s European activities, as well as of the bureaucratic nature of some relationships between the powers concerning this domain.

Concerning parliamentary resolutions on draft European acts, what influence can Article 88-4 have? It’s not a binding text, so from your perspective as a former minister or considering that of your colleagues, can you say that this fact led it to receive less attention? Because these resolutions are nonetheless put to a vote… I’m going to be totally frank: we paid no heed. I shouldn’t say it like that, but I had to sign hundreds of correspondences with the Delegation and I didn’t read a single one—it’s really an administrative process. So, we were behind on work, we were writing, or else there was an emergency, so we asked the Delegation… Well, I’m exaggerating when I said the correspondences had no influence, but there was not even one that provoked a real political discussion. And when you… Oh, maybe when I say “not even one”… I can’t think of one at the moment. It was truly very marginal, you see. That doesn’t mean it was useless, because there was still some back-and-forth. The fact that there is a conflict or a fuss is not a sign of good health either. It was always dealt with beforehand by the Delegation and by the European Cooperation Directorate [of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs]. But, well, I mean, on the minister’s level—that is, on the political level—no. And once the resolution was adopted, that is, made definitive by the Parliament, before negotiation at the Council? We always took account of them. They’re very useful. Yet they aren’t a matter of internal debate. They’re an external political signifier. That is to say, as far as … That is to say as far as others are concerned. When the Parliament makes observations, you must pay attention! We paid attention to them before. 48 O. ROZENBERG

Okay. Do they support you in negotiation? Yes, or to inspire us. Not only for support. And often, we have very significant convergences. Okay, so all these—when you say, “I didn’t see a single document”, these were documents… documents in administrative back-and-forth, but once the resolution was adopted, you paid attention to it. Yes, certainly. They had an influence, including on procedures. 88-4 is still important, I’m not at all saying it isn’t, I’m simply saying that it’s not a focus of debate between the minister and the Parliament. That’s to say that there have not been conflicts over 88-4. We’ve never had a problem that required us to get really involved, have in-depth discussions, and so on. Parliament and the government were in agreement and there was no call to… In agreement, or close enough. And all this had been well-prepared upstream. When you have a political process, the task that falls to the minister is to decide. I never had to make a decision on that subject. Okay. And for what they call the parliamentary scrutiny reserve? Same thing. Did this happen on the Council? That France would refuse to make certain decisions because… No, never. And delegations, for example, almost always if not always waived their reservation. So, it this the sign of democratic mediocrity or of poor health? I don’t know. Nobody can say.

This lengthy excerpt is cited in full here because it reveals the difficulty in so much as discussing a subject which, as we see, is not handled principally by politicians. In the end, I do not know for certain if by responding to the first question with We‘ paid no heed’, the former Minister meant only documents such as mailings exchanged with the Delegation, or if he meant the resolutions themselves.

* * *

The institutionalisation of the French Parliament regarding European matters can be unmasked as a form of trompe-l’oeil, not because European prerogatives remain unused, but because specialised activities are isolated within the Assemblies, and they involve few MPs directly. Parliamentary oversight of draft directives and regulations is carried out, but partisan conflict over European issues remains rare. On this subject, we may note 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 49 the similarity between conclusions by two former Ministers of European Affairs, one from the right and one from the left. From Alain Lamassoure, one of the founders of the Article 88-4 system in 1992: ‘Technically, the mechanism works. Politically, it only interests a handful of enthusiastic MPs and Senators […] Real debates on Europe still do not take place in the Palais-Bourbon or in the Luxembourg Palace’ (Lamassoure 2004, p. 193). Pierre Moscovici echoes him: ‘I do not have the feeling that the European Debate has really taken place within Parliament’s framework’. Finally, in 2007, the special committee chaired by Edouard Balladur judged that ‘European affairs generally escape the Parliament’s scrutiny’ and that ‘the executive power is hardly subject to really useful oversight in European matters, as is the most frequent case in the Parliaments of other Member States of the European Union’.36 Although these opinions converge, it is still important to update the observation made in the last section of this chapter. Fifteen years after my first research study, new interviews and observations allow me to cite certain advances: briefly; parliamentarians’ very frequent trips to Brussels, greater sensitivity to Europe within certain committees such as the Law Committee of the Assembly, and the regularity of debates and hearings preceding European Councils.37 A National Assembly report relates that no less than 32 visits to Brussels occurred from mid-2012 to mid-2015 in addition to the trips by the EU Affairs Committee or for interparliamentary meetings.38 Another advance is the fact that, in 2014 and 2015, the EU Affairs Committee, most often jointly with a standing committee, organised ministerial hearings a few days before the Councils of the EU. No fewer than eight closed-doors meetings of that kind were organised in a year. Yet the initiative was abandoned. Another development pertains to the information provided by the government regarding the impact of parliamentary resolutions, through trimestral reports drafted by the SGAE.39 Furthermore, the level of knowledge of or even familiarity with European questions has progressed. While in the early 2000s many practitioners complained of the parliamentarians’ incompetence—some MPs, for example, stumbled over the very name of the ‘European Commission’— this impression is no longer widespread. Parliamentarians elected in 2017 were, on average, about 25 at the time of the Maastricht Treaty and belong to a generation that is more conscious of European realities, such as the 50 O. ROZENBERG primacy of Community law. However, essential problems remain. Two examples are given here. First, we may consider the long-debated subject of the transformation of the European Affairs Committee into a standing committee. During my first interviews at the end of the 1990s, I was struck by the fact that my interviewees, whether politicians or clerks, brought up the question themselves. Those in favour of the status quo sang the praises of transversality while others based their call for change on the examples provided by France’s European neighbours. The debate continues to this day. Just before the 2002 elections, the Chairman of the Delegation, Alain Barrau, signed a constitutional bill that made the Delegation into a standing committee, reasoning that ‘the status of Delegation, which is lower than that of a Committee, does not allow the exercise of fully satisfactory oversight of the Government’s action at the European level’.40 Several weeks and one majority changeover later, the new chairman, Pierre Lequiller, opposed the chairman of the Foreign Affairs Committee, Edouard Balladur, on the same subject. The constitutionalisation of European Affairs Committees in 2008 did not put an end to the debate. The establishment of financial sanctions for absenteeism during standing committee meetings, approved in 2009 at the Assembly and in 2015 in the Senate, was detrimental to the European Affairs Committees, which were not included in this rule. In 2012, the chairmanship of the National Assembly EU committee was the only one that the Socialist majority allotted to their Ecologist allies, who were, however, more interested in the sustainable development committee. The 2008 reform meant to increase the committee’s prestige had, to say the least, limited results. Finally, in 2014, during the discussion of the standing orders reform launched by the Speaker of the Assembly, the Socialist members of the European Affairs Committee introduced an amendment to grant their body the status of a standing committee. Since the Constitution limits the number of standing committees to eight, the amendment proposed a merger of the foreign affairs and defence committees. Though it was finally withdrawn, the long debate that the amendment provoked during the sitting speaks deeply of the dissatisfaction of many MPs. The following statements made on the floor by supporters of the amendment confirm that, indeed, they feel the touch of the ‘blues’: 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 51

Estelle Grelier: Today, there are often only three or four of us discussing texts and holding hearings of particularly fascinating people. It’s not a good thing to allot such a status to European affairs! […] We are simply saying that the treatment of European subjects by this Assembly is unseemly.41 Christophe Caresche: [on the subject of the Banking Union] The Bundestag, for its part, examines this question in depth and defines very precise positions; I observe that for our part, at the National Assembly, we have trouble making any pronouncement whatsoever. Gille Savary: I am a member of the European Affairs Committee and also a member of a standing committee. I assure you that work cannot be done correctly! We are pulled this way and that by two committees at once: this makes things extremely complicated. I think that all of our colleagues in the European Affairs Committee can testify: overseeing European texts is very complicated. Sébastien Denaja: [This debate] reveals first of all that the status quo is untenable for the European Affairs Committee. From all the benches, we wish to see its role within the Assembly strengthened or, at the very least, to see the subjects within its authority treated more seriously.

Lack of seriousness, unseemliness, absenteeism, burnout: the verdicts are severe. Two years afterward, a committee co-chaired by the Assembly Speaker again proposed to create ‘a full-function parliamentary committee’ (Bartolone and Winock 2016, p. 155). The government’s refusal in 2015 to organise a vote on the stability programme provides another telling recent example. The stability programme is a budgetary commitment sent by the Member States to the European Commission during the so- called European Semester. In the previous years, debates and votes had been organised based on Article 50-1 of the Constitution, in accordance with Article 14 on the law for public finance planning for the years 2011 to 2014.42 In 2015, although the law for public finance planning for 2015 52 O. ROZENBERG to 2019 specified that this provision would be reissued, a simple debate with no vote was held on ‘France’s social and economic European project’ after the government sent its Programme to the Commission.43 The government blamed time constraints. A National Assembly report later explained that Article 14 ‘has no binding value since such obligation has not been placed within the Constitution’44—a puzzling conception of the normative power of law. The government probably aimed to avoid giving an opportunity to the rebel Socialists from the majority to voice their views—as they had already abstained in 2014 and as a controversial law (la loi Macron) was being discussed in Parliament. Two months later, a debate followed by a vote was organised in each chamber regarding the third bailout plan for Greece. The government, which had agreed to a request of both Speakers, saw diplomatic and political advantages to these debates. From a diplomatic standpoint, the parliamentary vote would validate the Council’s decision posteriori, without committing the President beforehand. Politically, the left was less divided than the right in opposing ‘Grexit’. Ninety-three MPs from the main right-wing party Les Républicains supported the plan, 35 abstained, and 41 opposed. Both episodes thus offer examples of debates and votes conducted at the government’s discretion, according to their innocuousness and potential for yielding political profits. The MPs did little to defend the rights they had won. Many other examples testify to their lack of genuine involvement. This prompts us to ask what motivates MPs when they deal with European affairs.

Notes 1. For a complete legal overview: Blanc 2004; Fromage 2015; Fuchs-Cessot 2004; Nuttens 2001; Saulnier 2002. 2. The italicised quotations in this text are cited from interviews conducted by the author. The quotations not in italics are from other sources. Interview in Paris, 24 July 2003, name of interviewee given with his permission. 3. Law of 6 July 1979. 4. The Call of Cochin, delivered on 6 December 1978, was Jacques Chirac’s severe critique of the government’s pro-European policy. Chirac protested against ‘the policy of supranationalism, […] economic subjugation’ and ‘the international erasure of France’. 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 53

5. Law 90-385 of 10 May 1990. 6. Decision 59-3 DC of 25 June 1959 banning the Parliament from seeking to influence or control the government’s action without liability. 7. See Chap. 7 on the role played by Bayrou during this time. 8. Law no. 94-476 of 10 June 1994. 9. The main body in charge of the international organisation of the assembly. 10. Circular of 19 July 1994 relating to taking the French Parliament’s position into account during the formulation of Community acts. See Chap. 6 on the implementation of this decision by Séguin and Pandraud. 11. Constitutional law no. 2008-724 of 23 July 2008. Some elements had already been introduced in February 2008 in view of ratifying the Lisbon treaty but were not yet implemented in July as their enforcement depended on the implementation of the treaty. The same as true of the revision realized in 2005 in view of implementing the Draft European Constitution which was not enforced. 12. Law no. 2009-689 of 15 June 2009. 13. During the legislative procedure, in addition to the relevant standing committee, the other committees can give their views through a report and speaking time on the floor. They are said to be ‘seized for information’ (saisie pour avis). This is what was refused to EU committees. 14. For an example of the broad range of literature on this narrow subject: Kiiver 2012. 15. Unicameral parliaments have two votes. Chambers of bicameral parliaments have one vote each, with no obligation to agree or cooperate with one another. The threshold is lowered to one quarter of the votes for draft acts related to liberty, security and justice matters. 16. Since the constitutional revision of 2008, activities on the floor should be dedicated to oversight activities, and not legislation, for one week out of four. 17. COSAC, Seventh Bi-annual Report, ‘Developments in European Union Procedures and Practices Relevant to Parliamentary Scrutiny’, no. 17, 2012, p. 10. 18. The SGAE, General Secretariat for European Affairs, is an inter-ministerial body in charge of preparing French national positions on EU issues. Formally called the SGCI, it operates under the responsibility of the Prime Minister. 19. Information report no. 3195, ‘L’Assemblée nationale et l’Union europée- nne: quel bilan? quelles perspectives?’, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, European Affairs Committee, presented by Philip Cordery and Pierre Lequiller, 2015, p. 29. 54 O. ROZENBERG

20. COSAC, Eighth bi-annual report, ‘Developments in European Union Procedures and Practices Relevant to Parliamentary Scrutiny’, no. 8, 2007, p. 16ff. 21. Source for this and following information on the Senate: http://www. senat.fr/europe/dpue-bilan.html accessed 27 July 2015. 22. For a complete explanation of the whole index: Auel et al. 2015. 23. An election year, 2012 was less propitious for French Parliament activity, particularly in the Assembly. 24. COSAC, Twentieth Bi-annual Report, ‘Developments in European Procedures and Practices Relevant to Parliamentary’, no. 20, 2013, p. 19. 25. An initiative of President Barroso established in 2006 and continued since. The Commission invites each assembly to share its observations on any text directly and commits itself to responding. The entire correspondence is then published. 26. The party in parentheses and columns is that to which the parliamentarian belonged at the time of the interview. See the appendix for corresponding abbreviations. 27. http://www2.assemblee-nationale.fr/recherche/questions, accessed on 29 July 2015. 28. Estelle Grellier in information report no. 3195, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, ref. cit., p. 64. 29. In 2007, President Sarkozy asked the former Prime Minister Edouard Balladur to chair a special committee on the reforms of the Fifth Republic’s institutions. The report prepared the 2008 constitutional revision. 30. Committee for Reflectionand Proposal on the Modernisation and Rebalancing of the Institutions of the Fifth Republic, Une Ve République plus démocratique, Présidence de la République, 2007, p. 58. 31. Information report no. 3195, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, ref. cit., p. 42. 32. See Chap. 7 on the downfall of Séguin. 33. I50 refers to the interview no. 50 conducted for this study. It is indicated only when the name of the interviewee is kept secret—which is the case for interviews with non-political actors such as clerks, civil servants, and collaborators. 34. At the time, leader of the UMP, the main right-wing party. 35. Samuel Le Goff, ‘L’audition d’un commissaire européen, un non- événement au Parlement français’, www.contexte.com, 1 December 2016. 36. Comité de réflexion…, op. cit., p. 51 and 58. 2 INSTITUTIONAL ADAPTATION: A CASE OF TROMPE-L’OEIL? 55

37. Ex-ante debates have been far more numerous these last years, but still depend on the willingness and availability of the government (Fromage 2017). 38. Information report no. 3195, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, ref. cit., pp. 22–23. 39. The reports are detailed but, unfortunately, are drafted after the decision is made and only deal with legislative acts. Information report no. 441 (2015–2016) by Jean Bizet, for the European Affairs Committee, Senate, 4 March 2016. 40. Constitutional bill no. 3686, National Assembly, 2 April 2002. 41. This and the following verbatim excerpts: JO, AN, CR, second sitting of 26 November 2014, p. 9269ff. 42. Law no. 2010-1645 of 28 December 2010. 43. During the first session of Wednesday 6 May 2015. Law no. 2014-1653 of 29 December 2014 on planning of public financing for 2014 to 2019. 44. Information report no. 3195, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, ref. cit., p. 33.

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Nuttens, J., & Sicard, F. (2000). Assemblées parlementaires et organisations euro- péennes. Paris: La Documentation française. Raunio, T. (2005). Holding Governments Accountable in European Affairs: Explaining Cross-National Variation. Journal of Legislative Studies, 11(3–4), 319–342. Riaux, G. (2014). Les professionnels de la politique et la politique étrangère. Gouvernement et action publique, 1, 51–73. Rozenberg, O., & Hefftler, C. (2015). Introduction. In C. Hefftler, C. Neuhold, O. Rozenberg, & J. Smith (Eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of National Parliaments and the European Union (pp. 1–39). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Saulnier, E. (2002). La participation des Parlements français et britannique aux communautés et à l’Union européennes. Paris: LGDJ. Thomas, A., & Tacea, A. (2015). The French Parliament and the European Union: “Shadow Control” Through the Government Majority. In O. Rozenberg, C. Hefftler, C. Neuhold, O. Rozenberg, & J. Smith (Eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of National Parliaments and the European Union (pp. 170–190). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Wessels, W., & Rozenberg, O. (2013). Democratic Control in the Member States of the European Council and the Euro zone summits. Report for European Parliament. Winzen, T. (2012). National Parliamentary Control of European Union Affairs: A Cross-National and Longitudinal Comparison. West European Politics, 35(3), 657–672. Winzen, T. (2017). Constitutional Preferences and Parliamentary Reform: Explaining National Parliaments’ Adaptation to European Integration. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Woldendorp, J., Keman, H., & Budge, I. (2000). Party Government in 48 Democracies (1945–98). Dordrecht: Kluwer. CHAPTER 3

The Enrolment of National Parliamentarians

The European Union and the French Parliament are deeply intertwined, and yet remain at a distance. Parliament members have made little use of specialised procedures for reviewing questions pertaining to the EU. However, the European Union is far from absent from the Palais- Bourbon or from the Palais du Luxembourg. It is directly involved during the transposition of directives or debates preceding the Council. It is also evoked indirectly: when domestic bills are passed, in the organisation of local authorities, or in discussions of the need to balance public spending. Finally, where individual parliamentarians are concerned, many European activities are framed in relation to their constituency (e.g. in subsidy applications), their party (often divided on the European question), or their foreign colleagues, with whom they have contact in a variety of settings, from inter-parliamentary assemblies to friendly rugby matches. A sociology of parliamentary behaviour is essential in analysing this ambivalent and ambiguous relationship to Europe. Why do MPs act—or refrain from acting—in European matters? We will argue that their behaviour exemplifies bounded rationality. Profit-seeking, cost-benefit analysis, and systematic anticipations operate on elected officials’ decisions to engage in a certain activity. This may explain the relative neglect of specialised European oversight procedures. The first two sections of this chapter are devoted to evidence for this observation. Parliamentarians have little interest in examining draft directives: ‘interest’ is used here in

© The Author(s) 2020 59 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_3 60 O. ROZENBERG its broader sense, at once personal (addressed in the first section) and collective (in the second section). Nevertheless, it does not seem possible to consider the parliamentarians in our interviews to be homines eco- nomici. Some of their behaviour does not follow axioms of rational analysis, particularly profit-maximising, systematic expectations, and exogenous preferences. Parliamentarians’ actions are not always calculated. Often, they adhere to their institution’s pre-existing behavioural norms. These norms synthesise some aspects of representative activity and of politicians’ personal aspirations. These different modes of action in the Assemblies—usually referred to as parliamentary roles—have been affected by European integration. Beyond utilitarian calculations and contingencies, national parliaments respond to Europe through a set of roles. The concept of ‘role’ is developed in the final section of the chapter. This concept explains why some elected officials act in European matters, whether through specialised procedures or not, even when they have little true interest in the subject. The role also allows us to understand the variety of forms of parliamentary engagement in these matters, a variety expressed not only in different activities but also in different conceptions of Europe itself.

Exit Homo Economicus Legislative studies around the world follow a rationalist, utilitarian paradigm, and not merely because of mimesis or trendiness. There is good reason to work from an understanding of parliamentarians as rational beings whose desires dictate their behaviour. In this model, they seek to maximise their preferences and anticipate the outcomes of interactions with others. The race for parliamentary positions is particularly competitive because they are, most often, socially prestigious occupations decided by universal direct vote. Once elected, parliamentarians find themselves in a position of structural uncertainty, facing the possibility of losing re-election bids. In France, the general tendency toward alternating election outcomes since 1981 (with 2007 the sole exception) confirms that electoral instability is a reality, except in a few safe legislative districts. The number of MPs advancing from the first round of voting offers a good indication, although this figure also depends on the degree of electoral mobilisation. Finally, Parliament’s status as a gateway to the positions most coveted by political leaders—that is, executive offices—justifies the presumption of rational behaviour. In this regard, France is no exception to the patterns of 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 61 other European democracies, confirming the fundamentallyparliamentarian nature of its government. Nearly three-quarters of the ministers appointed under the Fifth Republic formerly served in Parliament. To determine what might prompt a parliamentarian to invest in European issues, a twofold analysis is needed: parliamentarians must be considered individually and as aggregates of elected officials. Concerning individual interest, the oft-caricatured rational approach of parliamentarians is decid- edly not—or is no longer—limited to vote-seeking. Other motives that must be considered are sometimes summarised as the trio of ‘policy, office, and vote’ (public policy, career, and re-election) (Müller and Strøm 1999; Strøm 2012). These goals may be pursued in conjunction and are perhaps even indissoluble. The following section discusses the potential contribution of parliamentary activities specialised in European affairs, particularly the scrutiny of EU legislative drafts, to each of these aims.

One Cannot Win Elections Through Europe To begin, we can assert that European activities do not aid in re-election. Voters lacks interest, and these activities do not allow a district to gain specific advantages. The first point is well-supported by electoral sociology. Voters care little about the EU. This does not mean that they lack an opinion on the subject, nor that their opinions are contingent and unrelated to their values (Belot and Cautrès 2004; Grunberg and Schweisguth 2003). Nonetheless, Europe bores them. It is, indeed, quite difficult to induce them to discuss the topic (Duchesne et al. 2013). In 1997, French citizens’ main preoccupations were unemployment (mentioned 80% of the time), social inequality, social protection, education, and security (Cayrol 1998). The item ‘European construction, single currency’ trailed the list of concerns. That response was elic- ited only 20 to 27% of the time. Fifteen years later, in 2012, studies certainly indicated that the European issue appeared with greater frequency in platforms and campaign speeches thanks to the economic crisis (Belot et al. 2013; Dehousse and Tacea 2015). The EU, however, does not constitute an issue in itself, but acts more as a prism or filter through which other subjects of more concern to voters can be raised: unemployment, security, the state of the economy, or immigration. This lack of interest is not structural. It can be partly explained by the decision by Member States to limit integration in the areas that most concern voters, like welfare, taxes, and security (Moravcsik 2003). It may also 62 O. ROZENBERG be understood as a censorship from the political field on the subject. In France, voters are not concerned with Europe because politicians make no effort to interest them in it. The success of the National Front since the beginning of the 2010s has shown that a platform devoting extensive space to criticising European integration is capable of resonating with voters: European issues comprised a primary motivation among Marine Le Pen’s supporters in 2012 (Belot et al. 2013; Mayer 2013). However, this example shows precisely how perilous these questions may be for politicians of governing parties, who might fear voters’ judgment for support of any particular treaty or directive. Moreover, our interviews indicate that MPs know precisely how their constituency voted during the European referendums of 1992 and 2005. The analyses of votes in these referendums specified by district, similarly to socio-professional data, show at the very least that parliamentarians take their voters’ opinions on Europe seriously. At an aggregate level, a limited portion of the French population opposes European integration in principle, between 10 and 20% according to opinion polls, as shown in Fig. 3.1. Furthermore, among those opposing the 2005 European Constitution, some declare themselves in favour of division of sovereignty but concerned with the social consequences of the Union (Sauger et al. 2007). However, Euroscepticism’s concentration in certain geographic zones may strengthen its effect. Specialised studies show mixed results concerning the impact of variable opinion on parliamentary involvement. Euroscepticism’s influence in the aggregate proves statistically limited.1 Thus, we have established a model according to which, for most European lower houses over the period 2010– 2012, all else being equal, a one-point increase in popular Euroscepticism corresponds to one additional European resolution addressed to the government—a meagre figure (Auel et al. 2015, p. 297). Other analyses propose that voters’ negative opinions boost the proliferation of institutional systems aiming at constraining the government, rather than at increasing knowledge of European matters (Winzen 2013). Euroscepticism seems in fact to come into play when associated with a strong Parliament within the political system.2 Furthermore, Euroscepticism alone fails to explain the complexity of opinion phenomena, since the criticism of Europe has more impact when linked with a positive national outlook, for example the smooth functioning of democracy. It is worth keeping in mind that the French are generally pessimistic in the assessment of the domestic situation. If the link between public opinion and parliamentary involvement in European matters seems so difficult to establish, perhaps another reason 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 63

A good thing A bad thing Neither good nor bad & A bad thing (Europe of Twelve) Don't know

Fig. 3.1 French opinion on EU membership (%). Note: responses to the question ‘Do you think that your country’s membership in the European Union is a good thing, a bad thing, or neither bad nor good?’ The Europe of Twelve average corresponds to the non-weighted average of Member States in 1992. Source: standard half-year Eurobarometers and Eurobarometers from the EP is that elected officials from government parties may fear calling attention to the difference between their positions and those of their voters. Our approach, based mainly on parliamentary discourse, lacks the means to verify this hypothesis. However, one may observe that France is distinguished by its electoral system’s record disproportionality (that is, the discrepancy between citizens’ votes and the allotment of parliamentary seats). The rules of the game in France more than elsewhere thus limit access to representation for political sources opposing treaties. Surveys indicate Europe as one of the issues on which French voters and MPs most disagree. Figure 3.2 shows that, from 1986 to 2012, the major European treaties benefited from the support of 84% to 94% of the recorded votes in the Assembly. 64 O. ROZENBERG

93 94 93 87 87 84 86 86

86 83 77.5 78

69 71

58 45 Single Act Maastricht Amsterdam Nice 2001 European Lisbon 2008 Stability Fiscal 1986 1992 1999 Constitution Mechanism Compact 2005 2012 2012 Votes cast (%) Support out of all MPs (%)

Fig. 3.2 Support in the National Assembly to different EU or European treaties. Note: for Maastricht and the Draft Constitutional Treaty, votes on the amendments to the French Constitution organised before the referendums were considered

The gap between the stability of parliamentary support for the last quarter of a century and the ambivalence of public opinion is striking. In 1992, only 51% of French voters supported the Maastricht Treaty, and just 45% voted in 2005 for the draft European Constitution. Studies conducted in the early 2010s on the electorates of parties represented in Parliament offered the opportunity to compare in greater detail the respective opinions of the representatives and the represented. Table 3.1, drawn from the works of Vincent Tiberj and Eric Kerrouche (2013), presents data relating different groups’ support for a federal Europe.3 On an aggregate level, the opinion gap on Europe is among the widest out of the ten measured responses. This discrepancy does not play out identically on both sides; leftist MPs are much more federalist than their voters and rightist MPs much less, even considering that this comparison is weakened by the exclusion of far-right voters, who are much more critical of the EU. Whatever the case, from an epistemologically rational perspective, right-wing and left-wing parliamentarians would gain nothing by emphasising where they and their voters differ. In interviews about the electoral potential of parliamentarians’ European activities, cost is most often mentioned first. Some elected officials may, in fact, be tempted to downplay or hide their involvement 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 65

Table 3.1 Various groups’ support in France for the principle of a federal Europe (2010–2011 in %)

Combined Left Right

MPs 44 61 (PS) 29 (UMP) Voters 33 45 45 PS or UMP supporters – 47 50

Source: Tiberj and Kerrouche (2013) because Europe may seem too estranged from local issues, or even because the travel entailed may be mistaken for tourism—a concern frequently confessed by parliamentarians who worry about their electability (Kerrouche 2004). Parliamentarians may go so far as to deny their own self-interest, as the MP Christian Philip (2002–2007) attests:

I’ve organised some debates on Europe, I’ve brought in Lequiller, Lenoir,4 a German MP whom I met in the COSAC […] This way, the people in my district say that I’m active. But certainly, if I spent more time on subjects which deal with my voters’ daily lives, it’d be more fruitful. What’s more, when you go somewhere in Europe, some people say that it’s to hang out. It would be much more electorally profitable to take up another specialty.

A different electoral dimension: European activities could be used to gain advantages for a district. The question is studied in detail in the next chapter, which observes that certain elected officials’ involvement in the European Affairs Committee indeed reflects this motivation, but the results of this involvement are negligible. The system of upstream review of hundreds of documents produced by European institutions aims to overcome the legislative branch’s information deficit; it does not help to obtain local subsidies. Nevertheless, the parliamentarian is not powerless in the matter, but this type of activity does not necessitate reflection on the future of the Euro zone or common diplomacy. We may also note that when Europe commands attention on the local level, it often does so in the form of a problem imputed to EU legislation. Chapter 5 will develop this question through the lens of restrictions placed by the EU on the hunting of migrant birds. The resentment of social groups is a powerful vector for local elected officials. National parliamentarians, however, find themselves in a delicate situation, given their relative powerlessness to change adopted measures, or even their perceived complicity in 66 O. ROZENBERG these laws. An interview with Thierry Mariani, a Vaucluse MP at the time, suggests a contrast between the weak level of electoral profitability and the significance of local concerns as perceived by the populace.

[Speaking of a parliamentary report on aerial transport in the Delegation] Is it worth it, electorally? Electorally? Nobody gives a damn, let’s be clear. Let’s not play with words. “Does being concerned with Europe gain you votes?” I’m translating the question. If that’s the angle: no. Since, electorally, the EU is what prevents hunters from hunting, restaurant owners from having their VAT at 5%. Europe offers very little electoral profit, from my point of view.

Because of their weak electoral draw, European activities frighten away elected officials who are above all concerned with re-election, particularly those from electorally risky districts. MPs with weak bases who choose to spend time elsewhere are rare. A counterexample: Alain Barrau lost his seat for making this choice in 2012. The MP Laurence Dumont, first elected in 1997 in a difficult constituency that she later abandoned, justified her choice not to be a Delegation member despite her interest and competence:

I didn’t join, first, because there were few spots, and we couldn’t all be there. Also because when I was elected, I told myself that I really needed to implant in my district, so I didn’t want to take on too many responsibilities here [in the Assembly]. But it wasn’t at all because I wasn’t interested in the European cause, on the contrary.

In a final appraisal, local offices and the halls of the European Affairs Committee appear to belong to two different worlds. Pierre Lequiller, Delegation president for ten years, was elected from a safe district close to Paris; in the interview, he nearly gaffes on this subject by implying that his activities in the Palais-Bourbon are not connected to his mandate as MP:

[Speaking of the Delegation presidency] This takes up your five days a week? Yes, I’m there all the time. Well, I have to say—here’s the complexity of the thing—that I have crazy amounts of work, but at the same time I’m an MP. So, I have to participate in the life of a normal MP with a presence in the district, which the European parliamentarian doesn’t necessarily have to do, so that means the weekend and everything. 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 67

Europe Does Not Build a Career Despite the striking but unique counterexample of Michel Barnier, Chair of the Senate Delegation from 1998 to 1999, it appears that European expertise gained in the French Parliament offers no career boost. Because of the diversity of questions relating to the EU, it is difficult to gain an unequivocal reputation as a European specialist. More importantly, party elites’ mimetic indifference to Europe gives little opportunities for the ‘European expert’ to play a leading and visible role. They moreover fall victim to a contradiction between their interest in Europe and their choice of a national rather than European career, since political professionals’ career paths tend to be specialised. For instance, only a third of all MEPs elected in 2009 and 36% of those elected in 2014 had previously served in a national Parliament (compared to 45% in 1979).5 The limited attractiveness of European specialisation for the career- minded can be illustrated through the profile of European Affairs ministers. Eighteen ministers have succeeded one another since 1990, a high figure which by itself indicates the lesser prestige of this position, which is hierarchically subordinate to the Foreign Affairs Minister and has no administration of its own. Only half of European Affairs Junior Ministers since Maastricht had previously been MPs, a below-average figure. Among them, only two had served in the Delegation (Pierre Lellouche and Bruno Le Maire). Many other elements may account for their appointment, such as past ministerial offices (Robert Pandraud, 1993–1997; Henri Nallet, 1997–1999), closeness to the Prime Minister (Pierre Lequiller, 2002– 2012), or even an MP’s European background, MP as for the Franco- British Lequiller or Franco-German Sabine Thillaye (Chair since 2017). To illustrate from another perspective, we may examine the subsequent careers of two Vice-Chairs of the Assembly Delegation to the European Union from 2002 to 2006. Born in 1942, René André was a Gaullist MP from a safe constituency in La Manche from 1983 to 2006. In 1997, he joined the Delegation at the request of Séguin, then-leader of RPR, to whom he was close despite having voted for Maastricht. In 2002, this Russian specialist became vice-chair of the Delegation and was therefore obligated to become involved in numerous reports. In 2006, a year before the legislative elections, he negotiated his resignation with the leaders of the UMP in favour of the position of Chief Councillor at the Court of Auditors. Philippe Bas, the Minister for Social Security, took his place in the constituency. As another example, the UMP MP Christian Philip, 68 O. ROZENBERG born in 1948, was elected MP in 2002 in Lyon in the constituency of his mentor, former Prime Minister Raymond Barre. Philip, a university professor and author of textbooks on Community law, immediately rose to an important position within the Delegation. In early 2007, Transport Minister Dominique Perben easily obtained investiture in the constituency from the UMP’s local committee. The former MP-Mayor of Chalon-sur- Saône worried, with reason, that his territory was swinging to the left, and wished to lend legitimacy to his candidacy for Mayor of Lyon in 2008. After threatening to maintain his candidacy and then withdrawing it, Philip was appointed as personal representative of the Chair of the Republic for Francophony. In both cases, the way in which André and Philip occupied their terms mattered little. Their principle capital rested in holding the position itself, embodying a safe constituency and the ability to fill a ministerial slot.

Limited Impact on Public Action The third and final motivation for parliamentarians’ involvement in European matters lies in the possibility of influencing public policy. The intervention mechanism upstream of decisions aims to grant national parliaments the power to exert influence over the executive. As I have asserted, the system is intended not only to keep the Parliament informed, but also to afford it the opportunity to be involved before European legislation is adopted. Prime Ministers’ circulars invite the other ministers, while ‘respecting the prerogatives of the executive powers, to take into account the positions expressed by the Assemblies’.6 These good intentions contrast with the bitter observations by parliamentarians given in the last chapter. The members of the EU Committee are under no illusions about their influence. As shown by the lengthy excerpt from the interview with Moscovici, the very question seems so absurd that it is difficult to speak to former ministers on the subject. The final chapter will develop precise examples of the ineffectualness of parliamentary reports and resolutions. Here, we will concern ourselves with its possible explanatory factors and the question of whether it is specific to France. To begin, I will debunk two arguments often proposed by practitioners or academics, beginning with the idea that the French Parliament is powerless in most areas, Europe no exception. As we have seen, comparative analyses do give a harsh picture of the French Parliament (for example: Sieberer 2011). However, the above assertion crumbles in the face of 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 69 detailed study of legislative procedure, as increasingly numerous relevant case studies affirm (among others: Bonnaud and Martinais2013 ; Chabbal 2016; Lascoumes 2009; Milet 2010). Moreover, these works indicate that parliamentarians’ levels of expertise on various subjects constitute decisive vectors of influence. Another argument alleges that the French Parliament lacks legal or human resources in European matters (Grossman 2008). The classifications established in the preceding chapter allow this allega- tion to be in essence rejected. Comparatively speaking, French parliamentary Assemblies suffer from deficits of activity and lack of attraction, but not from absence of infrastructure or prerogatives. The right to mandate a minister to the Council would certainly represent an important qualitative advance, but it is important to emphasise that this right is infrequently exercised in Europe. It is almost always limited by exceptions and often is used to unite political elites in small countries. Three elements remain that may explain French parliamentary impotence in European matters. They relate to the organisation of the executive branch, of the administration, and of Parliament. 1. The pre-eminence of the President of the Republic. The role of ‘ultimate decision-maker’ for the general orientation of European policy, filled by the President, and its participation on the European Council, substantially limits parliamentary control: the President cannot be sanctioned or even questioned by the parliamentary assemblies. Since the end of the 2000s, the strength of this constraint has increased due to the removal of one seat per Member State at the Council, as well as to this institution’s growing power in the Union in the face of the economic crisis. The participation of the Head of State is an exception: Lithuania Cyprus and occasionally Romania were the only other Member States in such a situation in the mid-2010s.7 Certainly, most legislative files are not sent to the European Council, but the President’s power over the most important projects bolsters the idea that Europe is his or her domain, a constitutionally contestable argument. Presidential control also anchors European questions to diplomatic affairs. Henri Nallet, former Minister and former Chair of the Delegation, is among those who bear witness to the fact:

On Agenda 2000, did you modify the government’s views? No, but we participated a lot. We worked a lot with it. We were associated so we didn’t … if you will… How shall I put it? We can’t complain. The work was done under good conditions. I see what you’re looking for, I’m not going to lie to you; the Parliament under the Fifth Republic is a sort of an echo chamber for 70 O. ROZENBERG

the executive. And so, there are very few occasions. More so since I was a former negotiator. I was a minister, I know how this works. And I know that you can’t piss off the government too much with questions about the Community. You understand? Somewhat. Why? Because the country’s interests are at stake, and in the Constitution, the executive leads international negotiation, not the Parliament. Fifth Republic.

Comparative studies indicate that the desire ‘not to piss off the government’ is not unique to France (Auel and Benz 2005). Majority parliamentarians often face a difficulty of which they are all too aware: must they proclaim their opinions at the risk of decreasing the room to manoeuvre for the minister in Brussels? An informal, discreet, cooperative strategy offers a solution to this dilemma. If it is often employed in France, however, the central role of the President in European matters detracts from the credibility of Parliament’s stakeholder status in the negotiation of international positions. 2. The bureaucratic and inter-ministerial method of creating French European policy in France. The Member States’ method of preparing their positions before and during European negotiations is organised around different models that depend on the degree of autonomy granted to the Permanent Representation in Brussels, the system of coordinating ministerial departments, and the extent of ministers’ direct involvement (Kassim 2013). Here, France is characterised by the central role occupied by the General Secretariat for European Affairs (SGAE, formerly SGCI), a cross- sectional structure under the Prime Minister responsible for inter-ministerial coordination. The section heads of the SGAE are assigned from their home administrations for several years. They organise daily consultations between representatives of different stake-holding ministries, sometimes more than a dozen consultations for draft directives of secondary importance. Despite the good will of the SGAE’s bureau in charge of assembly relations, this intermediate choice between decentralisation (definition of the position by a leading minister) and centralisation (systematic arbitration by the Prime Minister) is disadvantageous to Parliament. Firstly, it detracts from early information supplied to Parliament. The government gives few details in memoranda on its positions on projects, since the positions themselves will be set through subtle inter-ministerial maieutic. Secondly, it is clearly more challenging to influence a network of actors in discussion than a single institution. The numerous SGAE 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 71 meetings allow different branches of the State to arrive at compromises. The final position issued from these conclaves, presented as a balanced text, is difficult to amend. What clout does the Palais-Bourbon wield after an agreement between the Minister of the Economy and the Minister of the Interior? Finally, the SGAE’s coordination plays a part in the highly bureaucratic governance of the national position, a system in which ministers have little say. As demonstrated by Jean-Michel Eymeri (2002), allowing ‘arbitration’ by politicians, to employ the jargon of that milieu, is seen as a failing by those high-level bureaucrats, often alumni of the ENA8 who present themselves as cross-sectorial specialists in public matters. Arbitration would betray their inability to see beyond their technical or sectorial point of view and anticipating political or diplomatic consequences of the subject. Moreover, this bureaucratic governance has founded its own criteria of legitimacy on the continuity and coherence of France’s position, refusal to enforce through legislation, and aversion to being in the minority in the Council. These aspects distance it from the logic of parliamentarian intervention, which often emphasises the need for stubbornness, respect for the sensitivity of public opinion, or the cutting of ties. 3. The isolation and marginality of European activities within the two Assemblies. As has been observed in the previous chapter, scrutiny of draft European acts is concentrated within the Committee for European Affairs. Standing committees, some of which are overwhelmed by the high volume of domestic bills, may deprioritise these scrutiny activities. Apart from legislative pressure, a certain conception of the mandate, modelled on the hierarchy of norms, plays a role here; elected officials may feel more influential when amending a draft law rather than a draft resolution. The European Affairs Committee’s existence offers the standing committees an effective excuse to concentrate on national legislation. Certainly, discussions of the EU in sittings do arise, particularly before European Council dates, but these debates are largely divorced from specialised procedures. The isolation of European activities within a second-tier committee more generally harms the Assemblies’ influence in European matters in different but related ways. Firstly, the doubling of parliamentary review between the European Affairs and standing committees may detract from efficiency. It wastes time and induces the European Affairs Committee to act in haste, risking neglect of important drafts. This model lies somewhere between one with an all- important European affairs committee, such as in the Danish Folketing, or 72 O. ROZENBERG one with a mere letterbox, such as in the German Bundestag. It dilutes political and administrative expertise on a subject by dividing it between two bodies, though many legislative European drafts require a level of knowledge that standing committee clerks are more likely to possess. And party groups, as discussed in the previous chapter, do not produce the balanced composition within the European Affairs Committee that would help to palliate the costs of coordination imposed by the system’s doubling. Secondly, the mechanism disincentives the development of European expertise for elected officials. Remuneration and motivation are essential to efficient parliamentarian specialisation. As Keith Krehbiel notes in a study of American Congress, elected officials do not specialise only because they sit on a committee, but also because, thanks to specific procedures, they can reap benefits from this specialisation, such as the right to depose take-it-or-leave it draft texts in session (Krehbiel 1991). No such advantage exists in French Parliament. Until 2009, rapporteurs from European committees might see their work buried by standing committees, and even today it may be blocked. Rapporteurs rarely have the chance to speak on the floor for their draft resolutions or on the eve of a Council. They have no right to propose amendments to a domestic bill as a member of the European Affairs Committee. Worse, they cannot avail themselves of specific prerogatives concerning the parliamentary transposition of a directive which, as we shall see, would offer a certain amount of room for manoeuvre.9 These institutional restrictions discourage elected officials. Parliamentary investment’s only identifiable rewards are trips to Brussels. Conducted almost systematically, these visits allow rapporteurs to meet members of the Permanent Representation and, frequently, European Commission officials and even, less often, Commissioners. These visits offer opportunities to discreetly sensitise these leading figures, who often want to have a clear picture of the political sensitivity of documents in Paris (I55, I118). As a clerk at the Assembly attests: ‘I’ve seen interviews at the [European] Commission where the guy from the Commission asked more questions to the MP than the MP did of the Commission’ (I118). Finally, these elements lead to increased delegation of parliamentary activities to clerks and assistants. At its most extreme, this delegation not only detracts from the promise of democratic control by elected officials; it also weakens Parliament’s influence on the executive. Official reports and resolutions are rarely reinforced by informal pressure on ministers from parliamentarians. Delegation furthermore encourages Parliament to be prudent when adopting official positions. The clerks who by and large define them are 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 73 motivated as much by the political neutrality demanded by their position (although they are protected by anonymity, since they do not sign reports) as by the desire to maintain good relations with their peers in the ministerial administration. A dense system of gifts and counter-gifts links the European Affairs Committee’s clerks with the SGAE’s staff and the clerks deployed to Brussels with the Permanent Representation. The executive administration has no qualms about keeping the administration of Parliament informed, knowing that it will do no harm and that confidences on ongoing negotiations will not appear in the next question time. The proximity between the two powers’ bureaucracies is evident when we examine the control of subsidiarity, the sole chance the treaties offer Parliament to act at the European level independently of the government. An Assembly clerk explained to us in 2012: ‘Some of my colleagues can’t imagine writing a subsidiarity opinion without first asking the government for the green light’ (E118). Whether an individual parliamentarian may be seen as policy, office or vote seeker, those goals are not easy to meet via specialised procedures. Within the rational paradigm, it also behoves us to examine the cost of this involvement (Saalfeld 2003). The literature has considered this cost from the perspective of parliamentarians’ schedules (de Ruiter 2013). Specialisation certainly requires some effort, but politicians may delegate some of the work (generally the least rewarding) to assistants or clerks. Moreover, the objective is often to acquire the reputation of an expert rather than to gain any authentic expertise. Another expense has been ignored in analyses of specialisation yet seems to me more important: the cost to majority members’ reputations. Interviews with assistants and clerks have exposed many MPs’ anxiety over colleagues’, party leaders’, and ministers’ possible negative perceptions of their European activities. These MPs fear that a draft resolution with their signature could be exploited by the opposition, caus- ing difficulties for the majority. One example is a European Affairs Committee report jointly signed by a Socialist and a LR MP on ‘French influence in the EU’.10 Though inoffensive at first glance, the report was systematically used against the Socialist Agriculture Minister by members of the right-wing opposition, including former President Sarkozy, for several weeks, because a table within the report indicated that he had missed four out of 10 Agriculture Councils in 2015. More generally, MPs may be afraid of being ridiculed for assuming ministerial airs, especially in diplomatic matters. These worries lead some of them to tread carefully and instruct their entourage to do the same. They may even make their reports public only during the final phases of negotiations, when the executive’s position is 74 O. ROZENBERG already known. Because of this anxiety, many MPs also refrain from publicly demanding follow-up on resolutions. These preoccupations are rooted in considerations as utilitarian (reputation represents political capital of the first order) as they are cultural, founded on a view of how majority backbenchers should behave. In contrast, in the United Kingdom, some politicians have a greater willingness to loudly interrogate officials or to fight tooth and nail for Parliament’s prerogatives (Rozenberg 2009).

The Difficult Process of Europeanising Parliamentary Politics Parliamentarians are not merely isolated actors. They take part in many collectives, beginning with their party and their parliamentary party group, whose internal interactions cultivate their own overarching interests and strategies. We may distinguish three group types in European activities. Firstly, the opposition may aim to criticise adopted measures, suggest an alternative project, or even influence the country’s politics through the review of European files. Secondly, members of the coalition may try to employ parliamentary scrutiny tools to monitor each other (Martin and Vanberg 2004). Finally, the government may be tempted to use parliamentary involvement strategically to obtain concessions from its negotiating partners at the EU level. This strategy, called ‘Schelling’s conjecture’ (Schelling 1960), is a typical two-level game: real or imagined constraints on the political stage can be transformed into diplomatic assets. Therefore, the parliamentary collective in question consists of the majority politicians or even the entirety of national representation. In a vast long-term, multi-country comparative study, Daniele Finke and Hanika Herbel (2015) tested and verified each of these three hypotheses by studying variables likely to accentuate their effects, namely: disagreements between majority and opposition on Europe, disagreements between members of the coalition in power on Europe, the cyclical weakness of the executive, or the size of the Member State. It is of interest to examine the French situation with respect to these different dimensions.

The Silence of the Opposition First, concerning use of scrutiny instruments by the opposition, it is important to note that the majority has use of various resources to disarm any Europe-related parliamentary initiative that they dislike. An opposition group may table a resolution proposal, but the majority may block or 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 75 rewrite it at the European Affairs Committee stage, mostly out of sight of the media. The doubling of European text scrutiny, due (as we have seen) to the standing committees’ desire to defend their prerogatives, thus provides useful protection for the majority, as does the European Affairs Committee’s monopoly on identifying proposals to the Assembly since 2009. The opposition is certainly involved in the European Affairs Committee’s works, and its members thus regularly present reports and draft resolutions. However, it is expected to play the role of the ‘construc- tive opposition’, i.e., without using its information and opinions to attack the government. Should the opposition stray from the norm, the committee chairman and his or her majority would hasten to block it. The European Affairs Committee meeting of 7 February 2012 illustrates the depoliticization of the scrutiny system.11 After a relaxed hearing of the European Affairs Minister, the Socialist Patrick Bloche and the UMP member Philippe Gosselin each presented a resolution on the same draft European act on protection of individuals respecting the processing of personal data, a subject unlikely to make any front pages despite its importance. Expressing regret over not having reached an agreement, Chairman Pierre Lequiller, UMP, put Bloche’s proposition to the vote. It was rejected. At this point, Gosselin suggested integrating the motion’s main point of contention into his own text, to the great satisfaction of Bloche. The modified resolution was approved. A spirit of compromise prevailed, but with a reminder of the majority’s pre-eminence. This episode was followed by a long presentation of a draft resolution by Elisabeth Guigou, former Socialist minister and a known European expert, on ‘the European recovery and the strengthening of democratic control’.12 Two months before the presidential election, this draft, whose first signatory was the Socialist leader in the Assembly, Jean-Marc Ayrault, proposed an alternative to the European policy of Nicolas Sarkozy, the departing President, and relayed the Socialist candidate Hollande’s promise to rene- gotiate the fiscal treaty then being prepared. The proposed resolution stated for instance that ‘the current leaders no longer have the legitimacy to impose this indispensable change of direction’. The resolution was, naturally, rejected by the majority, not without one MP’s remark: ‘It’s the first time that such an electioneering draft resolution has been tabled in our committee’. European debate in Parliament could thus take a pre- electoral tone only furtively, within the confidential setting of the committee, to the cost of high-ranking Socialist politicians who were suspected of hijacking the proceedings (at least perverting their spirit). 76 O. ROZENBERG

Another factor that prevents the opposition from employing these procedures is the closeness of the European positions of the governmental parties from left and right. Comparative studies have already demonstrated that the majority and the opposition have few differences over European issues. Data on the years 2010–2012, available through Chapel Hill’s database, indicate that France was among the countries in which the opposition and the majority were closest on European matters, according to experts. The opposite was true of the United Kingdom, Poland, Italy, and Austria (Bakker et al. 2015). The Greek crisis of the summer of 2015, referenced in the previous chapter, supplies an illustration: the Socialist government willingly relinquished its authorisation to organise a debate as requested by the opposition, knowing that this opposition would have difficulty upholding a different stance than President Hollande’s in the matter. This proximity is due in part to the gradual ideological change in each camp during the 1980s and 1990s, when the left distanced itself from the neo-Marxist credo and the right from Gaullist doctrine. From this point of view, Mitterrand’s 1983 pivot in favour of greater financial ortho- doxy corresponds to RPR leader Jacques Chirac’s call to vote for the Maastricht Treaty in 1992. The almost systematic alternation between parties in power since 1981 and numerous periods of divided government between 1986 to 200213 also reduced the distance between majority and opposition, in European matters (and perhaps others, to a lesser extent). As indicated by Fig. 3.2, the Socialists abstained on the Lisbon treaty in 2008 and the European Stability Mechanism in 2012 only after spending several years within the opposition. Finally, the closeness of the left and right in Parliament concerning Europe is also the product of two-round majority vote, which tends to marginalise politically extreme forces. The most radical opposition to prevalent European policies is almost always expressed outside of the Assemblies. Beyond votes in Parliament, the opposition and its leader walk a fine line in European matters. Support for treaties may lend a certain personal credibility: it is a measure of continuity and seriousness. However, it may also estrange the opposition’s most radical voters, whose support is crucial in a two-round election. Uniting one’s camp whether on the left or the right is, in France more than elsewhere in Europe, the foremost condition for success (Cox 1997). In European matters, this leads either to abandonment of these divisive, disturbing European issues or to bold, even contradictory, syntheses of views. Thus, in 1997, Jospin, then head of the Socialists, announced his support for the euro but proposed four conditions for its 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 77 establishment. In 2002, he did not raise the subject at all. In 2007, Royal, who had supported the failed constitutional treaty of two years previous, promised to have its succeeding text ratified by referendum. In 2012, Hollande proposed strengthening integration in a number of domains and announced a renegotiation of the fiscal compact. Electoral sociologists assert that these balancing acts were significant in the left’s victories of 1997 (Cayrol 1998) and 2012 (Jaffré 2013). Thus, the specificity of the European question from the point of the view of the opposition is therefore not necessarily passed over in silence. Rather, Europe’s programmatic definition constitutes a major issue for electoral strategy. The party’s position is the leader’s prerogative. It also provides a point for challengers within the party to contest.14 Rank-and-file parliamentarians have little interest in or chance for intervening. They may even show a kind of pru- dence similar to that of majority politicians in their relations with ministers as examined in the previous section. My investigation at the end of 2004 on the positions of Socialist MPs on the constitutional treaty was thus stymied by the refusal of some among them to air their opinions.

Europe: Far from Party Coalitions In the second hypothesis, the Assemblies’ European activities are used among coalition partners in power to keep each party in check, particularly to ensure that the initial governmental contract is respected. Indeed, comparative studies indicate that European resolutions are more likely in consensus democracies than in majority ones, all things being equal (Auel et al. 2015). The creation and use of parliamentary review tools are all the more likely to reflect dissent within the majority since, as I have remarked, the opposition plays a secondary role overall.15 However, this reasoning seems rather poorly adapted to a majoritarian democracy like France, in which government contracts are rarely formalised, the parties’ programmatic capacity is low, and the coalition is often crushed beneath the weight of presidential leadership. Furthermore, taking majority voting into account, the main majority party possesses a comfortable number of seats: always more than 40% of them. Figure 3.3 presents these data along with the parliamentary base of governments since 1988. Allowing that all French governments since 1988 have been coalitions, during the 10-year period of 2002 to 2012, electoral arithmetic nonetheless did not necessitate a right and centre-right alliance. Moreover, with the exception of the 1993–1997 Parliament, coalitions have always paired 78 O. ROZENBERG

90 80 70 60 50 40 30 20 10 0 1988 1993 1997 2002 2007 2012 2017 Size of the main party in the majority (% of seats)

Fig. 3.3 Parliamentary base for French government (percent of Assembly seats). Source: parl.gov, accessed 13 June 2016, and the National Assembly an ultra-dominant party with smaller partners. The former may be tempted to remain silent on divisive issues, Europe often included. Jean-Christophe Cambadélis provided a striking example when speaking about the creation of a left-wing coalition in 1997. This politician had directly participated in inter-party negotiations on behalf of the PS before the legislative elections of 1997. The other leftist parties included the Communists, Greens and ‘Citizens’ led by J.-P. Chevènement and the leftist radicals. In 2002, he explained:

As the left-wing coalition constitution was being negotiated, was the European question an issue or did it take a backseat? It was such an issue that we didn’t want to speak of it, so as not have to break up. Because obviously, if Jean-Pierre Chevènement had said from the beginning that for him, participation in the government was contingent on not doing the euro, he wouldn’t join the government otherwise. Thus the conditional aspect.16 The same for the Communist Party. So this question was treated with vague sentences so pragmatism could take over.

Data attest to the importance of these internal French party divisions over Europe. The comparative analysis of expert evaluations collected by the ‘Chapel Hill group’ indicates that France has one of the highest levels of dissidence on European questions alongside the United Kingdom.17 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 79

Moreover, Jean-François Godbout and Martial Foucault’s analysis of public voting in the National Assembly under the Fifth Republic confirms that Europe can be a vector of divisions within coalitions, even between MPs from the same parties (Godbout and Foucault 2013). In the period from 1958 to 2012, out of seven public policy areas, MPs of both the majority and opposition parties voted the least cohesively in foreign, defence, and European policy. Parliament during the Jospin government (1997–2002) was particularly marked by divisions in European matters within the coalition majority. It seems likely that leaders of the majority faced with internal division when ratifying treaties or transposition directives seek to prevent additional problems by avoiding European debates in Parliament, especially votes on resolutions (Auel 2007). The choice to transpose certain politically sensitive directives by ordinances appears to illustrate this,18 as does President Sarkozy’s and President Hollande’s aversion to renegotiating treaties. Another indication of the avoidance of debates on Europe is the rarity of adopting on-the-floor European resolutions, as Fig. 3.4 shows. More generally, the large parliamentary base of many governments from 1993 to 1997, 2002 to 2007, and, to a lesser degree, 2007 to 2012, indicate that parliamentary activity is driven by the opposition (hypothesis 1) or coalition partners (hypothesis 2) only in a limited way, to say the least. In their study, Finke and Herbel show that if the parliamentary base

15 70 60 50 40 7 6 5 30 44 3 33 20 2 2 2 1 1 11 11 10 0 0 000 0 0 0 1993 1994 1995 2007/08 2008/09 2001/02 2002/03 2003/04 2004/05 2005/06 2006/07 2010/11 2011/12 2012/13 1995/96 1996/97 1997/98 2013/14 2014/15 2015/16 2016/17 1998/99 1999/00 2000/01 2009/10 Resolutions adopted on the floor Share of resolutions adopted on the floor (%, right)

Fig. 3.4 Resolutions adopted on the floor by the National Assembly. Source: the National Assembly’s annual statistical bulletins 80 O. ROZENBERG is quite substantial (or if the main party dominates the coalition), disagreements between the opposition and the majority correlate in fact to a mobilisation deficit, not a rise. Perhaps the opposition or coalition parties judge efforts to mobilise in response to European questions useless if the power of the government condemns all action to ineffectiveness or harm- lessness in advance.

Strategic Use of Parliamentary Mobilisation? The final hypothesis is that parliamentarians in the majority, and even in the opposition, could be induced to mobilise on European matters to lend credibility to the national executive’s position in the eyes of France’s diplomatic partners. Given the Council’s opacity, it is difficult to know if this dynamic occurs frequently or if, in a multi-level bluff, ministers inflate the importance of parliamentary support. It is possible that, used often, this strategy might backfire by advertising the weakness of these ministers. What bearing do these possibilities, drawn from contradictory case studies,19 have on France? Anecdotes illustrating such a strategic practice will be presented at the end of Chap. 8. To quote a circular, official executive discourse encourages ‘taking advantage in [European] negotiations’ of parliamentary positions.20 The essential advantage of such a strategy rests on the credibility of parliamentary constraints, stressed by the minister or the head of the executive. France thus occupies an ambivalent position. The voice of this large and influential country is heeded in the Council. Its positions and the constraints of which its negotiators speak are taken seriously by necessity, despite that fact that its number-two status behind Germany has become more and more apparent since the middle of the 2000s. However, even outside the country, French Presidents have a reputation for enjoying a position of power. Like parliamentary administrators and French politicians, diplomatic observers of France internalised the shift of 1958 when a new, pro-President Constitution was established. The President is one of the three or four heads of state to sit on the European Council. No one is under the misapprehension that the President answers to the Parliament. Every ally of France has had the occasion to observe that, from Mitterrand to Hollande, the President can hold on to power despite record levels of unpopularity. Presidential supremacy, associated with the rarity of imposed or balanced coalitions, undermines the strategic evocation of parliamentary constraint by national representatives, from diplomats to ministers. Case studies like those conducted on the 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 81

European Convention (2002–2003) by Nicolas Jabko assert that the President tends to ‘free himself from any interior political consideration’ in European institutional debate, which in fact forces him or her to make important concessions (Jabko 2004). The change in parliamentary scrutiny reserves evinces the President’s pal- try appetite for using parliamentary mobilisation for his or her own purposes. The commitment to suspend the minister’s vote until the completion of parliamentary works, solemnly undertaken by the Balladur government in 1994 and spectacularly employed the same year by the Séguin-Pandraud duo, was deprived of all substance in 1999 by the implementation of a bureaucratic procedure of accelerated review.21 France has been one of the most frequent users of reserves since (Knutelská 2013),22 but as a diplomat from the Permanent Representation confided: ‘It’s a legal obligation that we have. At some meetings, I have to put a reserve for half of the points. We don’t use them for anything else; we’re just fulfilling an obligation’ (I117). By examining different parliamentary collectives’ interests in involvement with specialised procedures for reviewing European questions, we have completed the diagnostic. The opposition and coalition partners, as well as a majority keen on influencing the government in negotiations, have either limited interest in participating in a European Affairs Committee and in European debates, or limited the power to face down the obstacles to procedures set by the dominant party. The explanatory variables thus isolated relate to institutional rules as well as to politics. The ample size of the majority, the rarity of coalitional constraints, the general domination of the executive, and even the reputation of the French Constitution militate against any rank-and-file parliamentarian assuming the role of ‘European expert’. The lack of symmetry between the pro/ anti-European schism and the left/right divide contributes to a lack of motivation as well, as political actors have no interest in airing their inter- party or inter-coalition differences or their cross-party similarities. The conjunction of executive power and the illegitimacy of the European schism among parliamentarians encourages Parliament to neglect the European question in many cases, or avoid it altogether in others.

The Resistance of Homo Sociologicus Adapting Galileo’s famous exclamation to the theory of the rational voter who ought to have little interest in going to the polls, Richard Balme (2001, p. 340) wrote: ‘And yet, he votes!’ Similarly, it is tempting to apply 82 O. ROZENBERG it to parliamentarians: and yet, they mobilise! MPs and Senators have little to gain from debating European issues and studying draft Community legislation. But some of them nonetheless participate in specialised procedures for examining European texts in motion. Others, more numerous, encounter European norms and issues in the course of their work and develop different types of mobilisation in response. These politicians can only rarely reap personal or collective benefits from their activities. And yet, they do mobilise, as we shall see in the following chapters: Alain Marleix fighting to re-establish the ‘grass bonus’ (Chap.4 ); Henri Sicre traveling to Brussels so that woodpigeons may be hunted in February (Chap. 5); Nicole Catala speaking at the podium of her dismay at transfers of sovereignty (Chap. 6); François Bayrou campaigning against Turkish membership (Chap. 7); and Gérard Fuchs supporting public utilities at the European level (Chap. 8). This mobilisation by famous or obscure MPs cannot be imputed to utilitarian calculations. It fits, as is this book’s main thesis, in a framework of norms of behaviour and identification unique to the Assemblies. In national parliaments, the European Union is viewed through the lens of a dynamic repertoire of roles. Before developing the notion of role, it is necessary to return more generally to the aporia of a purely rationalist approach to parliamentary behaviour.

The Bounded Rationality of Parliamentary Behaviour As observed at the beginning of this chapter, the competitive and precari- ous nature of political democratic activity lends plausibility to the idea that political actors act rationally. Since there are many candidates and challengers, and because they must be not only elected but re-elected, it is conceivable that politicians behave in a utilitarian fashion, especially in managing their time or allotting their attention to problems or to people. Moreover, re-election rates of outgoing members of parliamentary assembles, on the order of 60% in Western Europe and 90% in US Congress, suggest that these strategies pay dividends. We therefore do not aim to contest the rationality of parliamentary behaviour head-on, but rather to emphasise its bounded nature: not so much because elected officials make erroneous calculations, but because they do not always make calculations. These side-by-side aspects of rationality, speculation, and expectation explain some parliamentary behaviour. They recall a saying by David Mayhew (1974, p. 141), oft-cited but rarely taken seriously: ‘It is not too much to say that if all members did nothing but pursue their electoral 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 83 goals, Congress would decay or collapse’. Our work, which extends beyond the question of European parliamentary mobilisation, is based on three distinct arguments. First argument: the paradoxical freedom offered by delegation. Backbenchers’ daily behaviour may flout rational calculations because in Europe, MPs leave the realisation of many goals to their leaders. Though there is no reason to think that a French MP would be less eager to be re- elected than American Congress members, we may nonetheless note that the destiny of the French MP depends greatly on his or her party leader’s popularity, while the American politician has much greater control. In Europe, parliamentarians have goals—re-election, implementation of programmes, or accession to a minister’s seat—over whose achievement they essentially lack control. Since its inception in the middle of the nineteenth century in the United Kingdom, the institutional dynamics of European parliamentarianism have favoured the appropriation of MPs’ prerogatives by party leaders, who regularly attain top executive power. Willingly or by force, progressively or abruptly, parliamentarians have had to relinquish their core activities, from swaying opinions to carrying out electoral programmes. This tendency was general and derived from various causes, like the hike in the cost of electoral competition, which necessitated the establishment of collective structures generating economies of scale (Gaxie 2003, p. 35), or the generalisation of the party vote to the electorate (Cox 1987). MPs have often been obliged by their voters to rely on their leaders: concerning this, the success of Gaullist candidates after the dissolution of the rebellious Assembly in 1962 constituted one of the founding acts of the Fifth Republic. Other explanations for the assertiveness of the executive and party leaders are not directly related to political competition, but rather to the nature of public action—its high-volume organisation into a welfare state, its complexity, and its growing technicality—and to media portrayals that resort to personification. This phenomenon, resulting from various causes, has given rise to considerable theorising.23 At the institutional level, it logically results in Parliament’s loss of influence concerning the duties conferred on it by the Constitution. From 1867, Sir Walter Bagehot proposed in his famous study that the role of the British Parliament was not to legislate but to select the executive, apprise it of voters’ problems, and in turn inform voters of governmental action (Bagehot 1964 [1867]). On the individual backbencher’s level, however, the consequences of delegation have not been fully considered. Kaare Strøm, and his colleagues (2003) are among 84 O. ROZENBERG those analysts who have most clearly and fully applied the concept by using principal agent theory to describe European democracies as chains of delegation from the voter to MPs, the parliamentarian to the Prime Minister, and the latter to the ministers, who ultimately delegate to civil service. Through this lens, and faced with distortion resulting mainly from unequal access to information, each principal would seek to verify that the delegate was acting in harmony with the initial concerns and instructions. These controlling efforts would form part of the political system’s top-down means of ensuring accountability, an essential democratic counterpart to the delegation of power. This analytic framework has since become dominant in comparative literature. It is often used to explain the development of parliamentary activities in European matters.24 Certainly, the extent of delegation is as important as the information gap between the executive and the national legislature in adopting European law (Raunio and Hix 2000, p. 161). Despite its logic or even elegance, this conceptualisation ignores the significance of delegation at the MPs-to-Prime Minister step of the chain. Whether they delegate voluntarily or under duress, MPs no longer act directly. They will certainly devote some of their free time to monitoring those acting in their place, but they will also seize the opportunity to carry out other activities. The concept of an actor who is exclusively preoccupied at once with allotting tasks to others and ensuring that these tasks are well done contains a basic contradiction. Why delegate if one must work as much as or even more than before? Without disregarding the logic of delegation, we emphasise that its main consequence, too often ignored, is that parliamentary behaviour does not involve the daily defence of MPs’ interests. To use a financial metaphor, MPs are political annuitants; rather unusual ones, as they are strongly compelled to economise. As clever annuitants, they choose the type of investment that seems best and regularly verify the expected dividends. However, this activity does not occupy most of their time, since they make use of an agent who carries out the daily work of managing capital. As a result, parliamentarians in Europe may in part escape the utilitarian mechanism that that requires their involvement in the realisation of their essential interests, because their daily activity has little effect on the latter. ‘Domination’ by the executive paradoxically offers MPs a certain daily freedom of manoeuvre in the use of their time. Second argument: the instant gratification of power. MPs do not only make calculations and anticipate rewards, they also orient their behaviour to obtain the immediate gratification of deep psychological aspirations. 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 85

The harshness, ingratitude, and risk of some political activities in a democracy offer convincing evidence that only deep-rooted motivations can explain the politician. In Sad Tropics, Claude Lévi-Strauss wrote defini- tively on the subject. Noting that the direct privileges of power (in this case, polygamy) could not alone explain why some individuals accept the heavy responsibilities of chiefdom, he wrote:

[…] if there are chiefs, it is because there are, in every group of human beings, men who, unlike their companions, love importance for its own sake, take a delight in its responsibilities, and find rewards enough in those very burdens of public life from which their fellows shrink. Certainly these individual differences are developed and find outlet in a manner, and to a degree, which will itself differ from one culture to another. But the fact that they exist in a society so largely un-competitive as that of the Nambikwara would suggest that their origin is not entirely social. Rather are they a part of that raw material of psychology in which every society somewhere finds it foundations. (Lévi-Strauss 1961 [1955], p. 319)

Since the publication of Sad Tropics, political psychology has attempted to find deeper motives in leaders. In a 1984 study, James Payne and his colleagues mapped a half-dozen emotional stimuli that spur politicians to act: the need to work on concrete public policies (programme); the spirit of competition and conquest (game); the thirst for prestige and public recognition (status); the desire to please and be accepted by others (conviviality); and, finally, the will to comply with a moral imperative (obligation) (Payne et al. 1986). The rest of this book will return to each of these aspirations according to the roles studied. A priori, psychological examination of parliamentarians’ motivations does not seem to invalidate a rational reading of their behaviour. It might even offer corroboration: politicians are constrained by strategic choices because they have intimate emotional incentives to act. The Lévi-Strauss quote might indeed be compared to a sentence from the famous economic theory of democracy developed by Anthony Downs in the same era: ‘Each political party is a team of men who seek office solely in order to enjoy the income, prestige, and power that goes with the governing apparatus’ (Downs 1957, p. 137). Understanding political activities in terms of emotions, pleasures, and aspirations does not contradict the hypothesis of the agent’s rationality; as Philippe Braud (1996, p. 8) noted, it only undermines idea that he or she is indifferent and aloof. On closer inspection, though, the kindling of political passion falls outside a strictly rational 86 O. ROZENBERG conception of the actor. Firstly, it entails a switching of perspective: emotions once again are the driving force in the process of individual or collective motivation. Keeping in mind that parliamentarians aim less at re-election than at recognition, respect, and affection, one is better able to understand activities which, without electoral payoff, potentially elevate self-esteem. Secondly, if the power of psychological motivations is taken seriously, the exorbitant expectations of rational anticipation can be rejected. Parliamentarian behaviour is not merely reduced to the establishment of policies aimed at a future result (re-election, influence, or a ministry position). It is also subject to the search for non-deferred psychological gratification. In some cases, as will be seen with the sovereigntist MPs, the immediacy of certain pleasures sometimes leads parliamentarians to adopt risky or even self-destructive behaviors. 3. Third argument: the effectiveness of the parliamentary system of behavioural control. Like any collective, parliaments can be understood as organisations that prescribe certain behavioural norms to keep actors from defending their individual interests alone. In this respect, legislatures have numerous and specific assets, such as tradition, prestige, and rituals, as well as their complexity and relative organisational autonomy within the state or in party life. Just as one might compare parties’ varying degrees of socialising power, one might also contrast slightly prescriptive institutions, like regional councils in France, with those which, like parliaments, dispose of significant resources for motivating actors to follow the ‘logic of appropriateness’25 in behaviour conforming to existing social norms. Delphine Gardey’s apropos research analysed the impact of the parliamentary locale on the behaviour and body of its inhabitants (Gardey 2015, p. 70). Applying the Foucauldian concept of heterotopy to the Palais- Bourbon, the sociologist and historian emphasised the otherness of Parliament vis-à-vis statist and political entities and the materiality of the phenomenon of representation (Foucault 2009). The Assemblies are first and foremost concrete settings that share a secular goal of insularity through the imposition of conformist behaviours and an ever-denser set of rules of comportment, dress, and speech. On this subject, Marc Abélès (2001, pp. 240–241) speaks of ‘mimetic passion’ and describes the style of behaviour at the Palais-Bourbon, which affects even MPs’ entourages: a lively step, a certain corporeal energy, an open yet preoccupied attitude, etc. One might add: rapid attention to each interlocutor, a direct speaking style, a certain tendency toward informal language, a volatile mix of seriousness and playfulness. These common characteristics of self-presenta- 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 87 tion clearly hearken to the euphemisation and codification of political power relations, according to the dynamic identified by Norbert Elias (1991 [1939]). The institution acts upon and through bodies. Social pressure thus exercised manifests the intrinsically relational, interactive, even tautological nature of power in representation. Politicians’ behavioural style is determinant, in that power feeds off the image and aura it projects. Abélès (2001, pp. 240–241) writes on the subject of MPs: ‘We watch them; they know it, and they observe those who are watching them’. Certain Assembly buildings, such as the hemicycle or the four- columned hall,26 can be understood as mechanisms where power not only is seen but also created from the spectacle generated. The Parliament is an engine as well as a platform. Interpreting roles in legislatures is not only a way of finding a position. It allows MPs’ power to show itself in concrete form. And yet, the Assemblies’ age and the constancy of their institutionalisation cannot alone explain the prescriptive force of their norms over their members. Parliament also imposes norms for individual reasons explicable through the sociology of organisations and of political elites. First, MPs generally adopt suitable behavioural norms to find their niche within a complex institution, a collective organisation composed of several hundred elected officials and several thousand actors. Statements from appli- cants also reveal the hardship of the first months in Parliament. It is challenging not only to know what needs to be done or said, but also to be identified, recognised, and accepted. Like the top managers of a multi- national company or workers in a large factory, parliamentarians are induced to follow a logic of appropriateness to satisfy a common desire, founded on a powerful, personal motivation to find their place. Second, changes in the sociology of parliamentarians also favour a diffusion of behavioural modes upheld by the institution. If ‘parliamentary passion is a mimetic passion’ (Abélès 2001, p. 240), this is also because elected officials overall constitute a specific social group. MPs and Senators have in fact gradually professionalised through a dynamic identified in 1919 by Max Weber (2015). These political professionals—mayors, ENA alumni, former assistants of elected officials, and advisors to ministers—are more similar to one another than to the notables of the Third Republic. Furthermore, they are held more strictly to certain codes, since their political capital has been partially depersonalised and delocalised. As Michel Offerlé (1999, p. 15) writes: ‘Political professionalisation demands at once a separation between professionals and laymen and the development of 88 O. ROZENBERG practices, beliefs, references, and interests specific to the political community’ (Offerlé 1999, p. 15). The homogenisation of politicians is more pronounced in the case of parliamentarians, thanks to a certain unity of place. Unlike other professional politicians, from local office-holders to ministers, parliamentarians meet in the same space. The community of politicians of which Offerlé speaks is thus sustained by the centrality, even the ineluctability of the parliamentary setting.

The Interpretation of Parliamentary Roles Just as economics has little to say on the behaviour of annuitants between two investments, much of the legislative studies literature fails to apply to MPs’ and Senators’ logic of mobilisation in parliamentary political systems. We can discover elected officials’ structures of preference; mechanisms by which they aim to satisfy their interests can be identified. Yet the lens that is relevant to the overall logic of a political system does not adequately account for parliamentarians’ daily activity, while all evidence indicates that this activity is comprehensible both as a search for non-deferred gratification and as conformism to norms promoted by the institution. Analysis can therefore borrow a different theoretical perspective to grasp MPs and Senators in action and in the flesh. The study of parliamentary roles, inspired by Donald Searing’s masterwork, Westminster’s World, seems most appropriate for understanding the paradoxes of parliamentary mobilisation in European matters.27 From this perspective, a particular organisation acts as a framework in which, over time, several systems of behaviour and self-presentation—i.e., roles—develop. These roles—set modes of behaviour in Parliament—are available to MPs who choose and interpret them, in the theatrical sense of the term (breathing life into them) as well as the cognitive (making sense of them). In common or intellectual parlance, using the term ‘actors’ for members of an organisation encompasses the interpretative dimension of all their behaviour. The motivational approach of roles is anchored in a comprehensive sociology of parliamentarians and seeks to reveal the wide range of roles and sub-roles as well as the reasons inducing MPs to assume them. These motivations, according to Searing, are relatively easy to discover through open qualitative analysis. They can be interpreted as a synthesis of rational, strategic aspirations with the pursuit of more immediate satisfactions rooted in deep psychological needs. The parliamentarian’s choice of a role from the Assembly repertoire would, in this scenario, depend on these two often indistinguishable types of motivations. 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 89

In his study of backbenchers in the House of Commons in the 1970s, Searing was careful to contrast his method with the functionalist approach, which had dominated the study of parliamentary roles since 1960 (Wahlke et al. 1962). Nonetheless, the roles that he brought to light possessed a functional aspect. They contributed to greater organisational efficiency by rendering actors more identifiable and by ‘prescribing’28 types of behaviour corresponding to recurring situations and attitudes in the face of recurrent problems. Given this utility, the roles identified by the researcher are not hidden structures unknown to the actors; the ease of access to and comprehension of these regulating principles of parliamentary life are conditions for their effectiveness. Moreover, the roles identified by these types of studies correspond fairly closely to different functions of parliaments in a democratic regime: legislation, oversight, selection, deliberation, and representation. Activities linked to these aspects, over time, generate distinct models of acting as an MP. These various elements show that the concept of role, applicable to any collective, is especially relevant to parliamentary behaviours. The age of the organisation and the continuity of its missions lend plausibility to the hypothesis that behaviours within it settle into various models. The identificatory virtues of the role are vital given the number of actors gathered in one place. The variety of the Assemblies’ constitutional missions, of tasks to be carried out by elected officials, and of their weekly interactions may logically lead to different roles for specialised activities. More fundamentally, conceptual affinity correlates the pluralism of parliamentary representation with that of roles. As an institutionalisation of pluralism, legislatures force disagreeing MPs to sit together. They differ not only regarding the support to the government but, more profoundly, the vision of the parliamentary mandate. We know, for example, that this vision is more collective on the left than on the right (Costa and Kerrouche 2007, p. 78). Parliamentary roles derive their coherence from homogeneous conceptions of representation. For some, this means acting as spokesperson for their voters; for others, resolving voters’ problems. Alternatively, it could mean distancing oneself from voters in order to better legislate for the general interest. The structural diversity of representational modes implies the division of parliamentarians into distinct roles. Role-based analysis evades the dead ends of purely instrumental conceptions of parliamentary behaviour, as developed in the previous section. Parliamentarians choose a role and invest it with their attitudes and behaviours. Though there is a margin for subjective interpretation, those attitudes and behaviours are, to a great extent, imposed by this role. Playing 90 O. ROZENBERG a role and playing it well therefore require an individual to abandon the logic of individual calculation and expectation. Ministerial aspirants, to borrow a label conceived by Searing, are evidently motivated by self-interest and ambition to accede to that position. Nonetheless, they must conform to political norms relating to ministerial careers by holding an electorally safe seat, specialising without over-specialising, building a reputation for seriousness and openness, rendering services, etc. On a daily basis, these directives distance the actor from the cold calculation commonly assumed in economic models. Jacques Lagroye’s description of political leaders echoes this epistemology: ‘[…] their ways of assuming diverse roles, of “succeeding” if they are held to it, result not only from utilitarian calculation—“this way, I will be re-elected”—but equally from their representations of self, of their own usefulness and of the obligations toward others they have assumed: closely involved activists, local partners, long-term contacts, allies, and collaborators’ (Lagroye 1994, p. 14). Despite some attempts to inscribe role-based analysis within the remit of rational choice,29 it seems to belong to a different epistemology, in which the actor does not so much construct a strategy as interact daily with pre- existing social norms, even if they reject or turn away from them. The subtlety of role-based analysis results from its acknowledgement of the gradual nature of change and the limited autonomy of the actor. The interpretation of a role lies at the interface of creative subjectivity and limitations imposed by pre-existing norms. As Searing writes: ‘Political roles are the place where individual choices meet institutional constraints’ (Searing 1994, p. x). Like the actor of modern Western theatre, the parliamentarian uses text and dramaturgy to produce his or her own version of a character known to the public. The range of roles can thus gradually change and adapt to new personalities, partisan ideologies, parliamentary activities, and, currently, to the transfer of part of national sovereignty to the EU. This book proposes that the EU is perceived through this range of roles, this dense and much-worked fabric that weaves together different models of parliamentarian. National parliamentarians do not only act on European matters because Community legislation has trampled on their prerogatives, or to restore a margin of manoeuvrability against the executive branch. They understand and perceive the EU through their roles. In return, these roles are affected, marginally or profoundly, by the European aspect. This conceptual prism encourages analysis of change within an organisation as a gradual, heterogenous, and even disjointed process of which one essential dimension lies in the (lack of) compatibility between prescriptive roles and 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 91 organisational innovations. Concerning this, the laboriousness of the emer- gence of specialised European activities, considered in the previous chapter, can be understood as the difficulty of grafting these new activities onto an existing role, or even in creating a new sub-role, the European specialist. As will be seen, however, the French Parliament’s modes of existence in all their diversity have not remained untouched by the reinforcement of European integration undertaken since Maastricht. Before studying these different roles, it is useful to review two controversial details of Searing’s approach taken in this monograph. First, in a departure from a strict conception of rationality, individual psychology affects as much the choice of the role as the manner of playing it. Searing considers emotions and the pursuit of instant satisfaction to be determining factors in the selection of a role. He writes: ‘Emotional incentives are the principal energizing forces in all parliamentary roles’ (Searing 1994, p. 19). Conceptually, a role-based approach may not imply such an epistemology sensu stricto. Institutions tend to separate roles according to their complexity and their internal division of labour. The phenomenon is more organisational than psychological. However, if actors’ emotional affects are taken seriously, it is easier to understand how they select a role and assume some of its norms, even though these sometimes work against their individual interests. In such an approach, roles’ normative power springs from actors’ affective commitment to their interpretations. The role ‘takes’ and ‘sticks’ if founded in the actor’s most personal motivations, which the role’s interpretation permits him or her to act upon. Individual pleasure and emotion thus constitution essential vectors for defining and transmitting social norms. The second point subject to discussion: the uniformity of the role being played. Searing observes that each elected official he encountered privileged one role, even a sub-role, over the others. Thirty years later and in a different assembly, I was led to make the same remark. Taking care to ask an open question at the beginning of each interview (‘if I say “Europe”, what comes to mind?’), analysing diverse works by parliamentarians and observing their style, their ways and their small Parisian offices, I noted to what extent most parliamentarians drew exclusively on a single profile. An elected official’s specialisation in a particular role was simply evident and relatively univocal. Searing’s explanation of the uniformity of roles seems material. He writes: ‘No one has sufficient time and energy to pursue vig- orously all backbench roles at once’ (Searing 1994, p. 81 and pp. 416– 418). However, Searing’s reasoning is based not only on personal 92 O. ROZENBERG availability but also on psychological investment in the role. I stated above that emotional incentives, tempered by the desire to satisfy their interests, push politicians into a role. If they keep to one role and only one, it is because this incentive is both powerful and univocal. In the above-cited study on politicians’ motivations, Payne and his colleagues write: ‘each politician (with few exceptions) has only one incentive, not a mixture of incentives’ (Payne et al. 1986, p. 8). They also specify that the higher a leader’s position, the more clearly that leader is energised by a single emotional spur.

* * *

Through an analysis of their interest in mobilising, this chapter has first given an explanation for the finding in Chap.2 that parliamentarians evince little authentic investment in European affairs. Whether or not one considers their interest in the strict sense (elections, career), from an individual or collective point of view (as majority or opposition politician or coalition partner), the fact remains: French MPs gain little from reviewing draft European acts and participating in parliamentary debates on issues linked directly to the EU. However, a more theoretical approach leads us to affirm that parliamentary behaviour cannot be reduced to adherence to strategies aimed at satisfying their interests. MPs and Senators choose between relatively consistent sets of time-tested behavioural and attitudi- nal norms, lastingly assumed by elected officials. These roles help them to find their place within legislatures and acted as lenses through which increasing European integration in the studied period was perceived. MPs perceive and engage with the EU through their roles, guided by a blend of emotional aspirations and calculations that directs their performance. I have chosen, therefore to study the European role of French Parliament through the Europeanisation of MPs’ parliamentary roles. On this subject, not only are Searing’s works conceptually useful, they are also more directly relevant when considering the types of roles and sub-roles he identified within the Commons of the 1970s. The four roles for backbenchers were policy advocates, constituency members, ministerial aspirants, and Parliament men. It would actually be fairer to classify families of roles, as the sub-roles are highly diversified and specific. Policy advocates, the most numerous, wish to effect change and influence public action. They are, in turn, defini- tively differentiated into ideologues, specialists, and generalists who proceed from case to case. Constituency members are divided into welfare officers 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 93 focused on their constituency’s specific issues, andlocal promoters, who aim to initiative projects. Ministerial aspirants are split between two groups according to the extent of their ambitions: high flyers and subalterns. The rest, Parliament men, compose a small category with a great variety of Parliament’s regular players: status seekers in need of recognition, spectators of political life, club members, etc. Because of the proximity of British and French, and even European, political systems, as well as the incremental change of parliamentary organisations, this repertoire of roles resonates with those that organised the National Assembly in the period considered, and thus it offers a useful cartography for exploring French Parliament.30 Chapters 3 and 4 consider different varieties of policy advocates: welfare officers and local promoters in Chap. 3 and the defenders of land and tradition in Chap. 4 (mainly parliamentarians mobilised in the defence of hunters’ causes). Chapter 5 focuses on a new variety of ideologist politicians, in vogue during the 1990s and rare today: the sovereigntists. Chapter 6 studies ministerial aspirants great and small to understand how European issues may have determined certain political trajectories, from former Prime Minister Laurent Fabius to former party leader of the right, Philippe Séguin. Finally, Chap. 7 examines the profile of MPs specialising in procedures for reviewing draft European legislation. Should these politicians implementing Article 88-4 be understood as specialists, inhabiting the role identified by Searing within the family of policy advocates, or, given the limited effects of their actions, must one seek similar motivations to those of the Parliament men, drawn to spectacle, prestige, and internal sociability in the Assemblies?

Notes 1. The correlations obtained are weak, whether in the case of Member States at the end of the 1990s (Bergman 2000) or Central and Eastern European countries in the mid-2000s (Karlas 2011). 2. Using a mixed method called Qualitative Comparative Analysis (QCA), Tapio Raunio (2005) demonstrates that the institutional power of the Parliament constitutes the only necessary condition for its affirmation in European matters, with this factor and critical public opinion acting as sufficient condition. 3. For a comparative point of view from 2004: Mattila and Raunio 2006. 4. Noëlle Lenoir was Junior Minister of European Affairs from 2002 to 2004. 5. Out of all MEPs—not only French (Beauvallet et al. 2018). 6. 13 December 1999 circular on the application of Article 88-4 of the Constitution. 94 O. ROZENBERG

7. As well as Romania, episodically (Wessels and Rozenberg 2013). 8. ENA is the acronym for the prestigious National School of Administration. 9. See Chap. 8. On the phase shift between a priori review and transposition: Sprungk 2011. 10. Information report no. 3468, ‘La France dans l’Union européenne: renouer avec l’influence perdue’, National Assembly, 14th Parliament, tabled by the European Affairs Committee and presented by Christophe Caresche and Pierre Lequiller, 2016. 11. See summary record no. 239 of the European Affairs Committee, 13th Parliament. 12. National Assembly document no. 4196, 13th Parliament, draft European resolution for the European recovery and the reinforcement of democratic control, presented by Jean-Marc Ayrault, Élisabeth Guigou, and Christophe Caresche, 23 January 2012. 13. From 1986 to 2002, France experienced a system of divided government (called cohabitation) half of the time. France’s European policy is handled by a subtle co-decision system, in which the President has greater say when the decision rises to the European Council. Apart from the rapprochement of their positions, the sharing of responsibility in allowing or reducing the ambiguity of the constitutional text leads political actors in government parties to avoid attacking each other on this ground (Leuffen 2009). 14. See Chap. 7. 15. Sébastien Lazardeux (2009) shows that the strengthening of parliamentary control under the Fifth Republic was supported by dissident groups in the minority, most often from within the right. The opposition then used the tools it had been unable to create. 16. I.e., the conditions of the leftist coalition’s programme in 1997 relating to the transition to the euro. 17. In the late 2000s (Bakker et al. 2015). 18. See Chap. 8. 19. Bailer and Schneider (2006) arrive at opposite conclusions to Finke and Herbel. 20. 13 December 1999 circular on the application of Article 88-4 of the Constitution. 21. On the 1994 decision see Chap. 2; on the 1994 crisis see Chap. 6. On the 1999 reform, Fromage 2015, p. 139. 22. On the bureaucratisation of the procedure: Auel et al. 2015. 23. The MP’s relative powerlessness over his or her electoral fate and over public action obviously does not imply that he or she is inactive in these areas. Truly, this powerlessness is merely relative: parliamentarians can influence public policies,perceptions, and opinions as well as their own chances of re-election from the margins. Moreover, agents may have vary- 3 THE ENROLMENT OF NATIONAL PARLIAMENTARIANS 95

ing degrees of awareness of this powerlessness. Finally, European parliamentarians’ delegation in favour of executives or party leaders is not without its limits. One determining vector of a party leader or minister’s political capital is the support of his or her parliamentary party group, expressed through mechanisms both formal (the confidence vote) and informal (for example, press campaigns). 24. In the above-cited work but also, among others: Bergman 2000; Saalfeld 2005; Winzen 2012. 25. As opposed to the logic of consequences (March and Olsen 1989). 26. A large room next to the hemicycle where MPs meet journalists. 27. For the state of the art on parliamentary roles: Andeweg 2014; Blomgren and Rozenberg 2012. 28. Antony Giddens speaks of ‘prescriptions of roles’ (Giddens 1979, p. 117). 29. Kaare Strøm (2012) proposes that, as roles reduce uncertainty, their assumption may result from a cost-benefit analysis. Studies by Julien Navarro (2009) also attempt to marry role and rationality by using Raimond Boudon’s theoretical approach. 30. Incidentally, these roles are close to those defined in studies on France. See especially: Costa and Kerrouche 2007; Dogan 1999; Woshinsky 1973.

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The Constituency Member: Dilettante, Lobbyist or Mediator

Up until 2017, eight to nine MPs out of ten and seven to eight Senators out of ten doubled their parliamentary mandate with a local mandate, and in most cases with local government responsibilities as well. The practice of cumulating electoral offices (cumul des mandats) is deeply rooted in national political culture—it was a deciding factor in the establishment of the republican regime in France (Marrel 2003). This practice had also been consolidated by 30 years of alternating majorities and the move toward decentralisation. It is not the only aspect of the localist dimension of French parliamentary life. The traditional weakness of political parties in France, the use of a majority plurality system for legislative elections (uncommon in Europe), and the selection of Senators by electoral col- leges in each département1 are additional factors. The combination of these elements contributes to maintaining eligibility for local office as a fundamental dimension of a parliamentary mandate—to the point where Olivier Costa and Eric Kerrouche (2009) amended their typology of MP roles to specifically include a local dimension for each role. In a given constituency, they distinguish between dignitaries, up-and-coming professionals, entrepreneurs, mediators, social workers, and those who defend local interests. These categories can be understood as so many different aspects of the role of the ‘Constituency Member’, as identified by Donald Searing (1994, chapter 4). Where does Europe fit into this landscape of ‘MPs-mayors’,2 agricultural fairs, local development projects, open surgery hours, and representatives

© The Author(s) 2020 101 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_4 102 O. ROZENBERG focused on returning to their strongholds? This chapter begins by confirming the inadequacy of the tools for the Parliament’s participation in European affairs considering the localist perspective of the French Parliament. The priority accorded to local issues does provide the principal explanation for the neglect of European affairs both in the Senate and in the National Assembly. However, as will be discussed in the second section, the importance of some EU issues on the local level—notably the CAP and cohesion policy—has led MPs to act in defence of their territory. Most often their intervention is not crucial, although some constituency members manage to play a more decisive role by mediating between the different interests at stake, as we will see in a third section. MPs’ ability to situate themselves within a multi-level system of governance has a psychological rather than a strategic foundation.

Grass-Roots Europe In May 2000, Gaëtan Gorce, Member for Nièvre since 1997, presented a 150-page report on social dumping in Europe to the Delegation for the EU. The report had required more than 60 hearings. In 2001, Gorce was elected Mayor of Charité-sur-Loire, a town of some 5460 inhabitants. Two years later he said of this report:

I did it before I had a local mandate. It is true that now I would probably have less time. I think it would be to the detriment of… As it can’t be to the detriment of local activities because that is so unforgiving—you can’t miss a town council sitting—well it would be to the detriment of other parliamentary activities. I think if I did something like that today, I would probably not be in the Chamber regularly for several weeks to do it, whereas then… I did it on Thursdays for example. We were away Wednesday night and Thursday. Now, Thursdays I’m in my Town Hall.

That Gorce’s holding several mandates simultaneously is considered a modest number3 is testimony to the devastating effects of the generalisation of the cumulation of offices on parliamentary activity in the two houses. Hearings are poorly attended, the chambers are empty after an hour of debate, institutional reforms are quickly neglected, many parliamentary reports are entirely written by clerks, some committee meetings languish, and so on. Nor are these observations specific to European issues. Up until 2017, the simultaneous holding of the parliamentary term 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 103 with a local executive one removed many MPs from both Paris and from issues that were not directly related to their constituency (Bach 2012). Beyond parliamentary demobilisation, the effect of localism on the Europeanisation of the French Parliament is visible both in the propensity for MPs to see the EU with the eyes of local representatives and in the local spin put on certain procedures associating the Parliament with European affairs.

Europe in the Eyes of the Constituency An MP in his or her constituency is rarely solicited by electors on questions perceived as European. Thus, when speaking about the weekly parliamentary party group meetings that serve to relay the mood of the constituency, the group assistants I interviewed confirmed that European issues are rarely raised spontaneously—as one collaborator put it: ‘Europe is rarely the burning issue of the week’ (I50). The rarity of solicitations dealing explicitly with Europe and the interest for local concerns lead constituency members to neglect European integration as a global and overarching issue. Less than a year before the EU enlargement of 1 May 2004, collaborators from the four major parliamentary groups confessed that the question of enlargement had not been discussed in the groups. The issue has been addressed only a decade after the concerns provoked by the posted workers surfaced. The cumulation of offices also means that European integration is perceived in view of its concrete consequences and results within the framework of the local administrative authority, whether it be a Town Hall, an inter-town organisation, a département, or a regional council. The Socialist Senator Claude Saunier, former Mayor of Saint-Brieuc (46,000 inhabitants) when the interview was conducted, and the Gaullist MP Etienne Pinte, Mayor of Versailles (86,000 inhabitants), were led to observe that Europe changes the daily activity of a mayor more than that of an MP. Saunier, who abstained from voting on the Constitutional Treaty in 2005, emphasised the benefits of European policy on this point, whereas Pinte, who supported the Treaty, was more critical. However, these two parliamentarians agree in their perception that the norms and programmes of the EU are factors over which they have no control.

Claude Saunier: I was more in contact with the EU as the Mayor of Saint- Brieuc than as an MP. It’s a pity. As Mayor, I had to deal 104 O. ROZENBERG

with industrial reconversions, and so with European Structural Funds. It’s also an agricultural region so I became interested in the CAP. For a local representative from Brittany, Europe is very real. I’m left with a very positive image of Europe’s involvement. It’s thanks to the CAP that agriculture in Brittany is still alive. It’s thanks to the dairy quotas that there is still farming in Brittany. Etienne Pinte: We’re governed increasingly by European directives transposed into French law, they manage us. And we discover, on the local level, that in many cases we’re not even ruled by French laws but by European laws. The latest one concerning my town is that apparently today, the Ministry for Culture cannot sign a contract with an architect for historic monuments to take care of our preservation sector, without a call for applications at the European level. It is a monstrous absurdity because it’s obvious that in this case, we’ve had a team of architects that has taken care of our town for the past 20 years.

Seen from the perspective of a region, a département, or a town, European regulations and policies constitute an ensemble of rules, frustra- tions and opportunities imposed upon their daily organisation. This leads MPs to adopt a certain utilitarian attitude towards Europe’s bounty. In the context of budgetary restrictions on a national level, many simply think ‘subsidy’ when they hear the word ‘Europe’. Many other parliamentarians might respond as Senator Jean-Marie Valerenberghe, Mayor and president of the urban community of Arras, did when interviewed. She explains: ‘As Mayor, I follow certain affairs that have a European dimension, first with the twinning and in looking for European subsidies’. As for cross-border elites studied by Adrian Favell (2008), this utilitarian attitude does not necessarily mean support for the European project. Access to EU subsidies is in fact difficult: it requires a certain know-how that may frustrate and discourage an MP, or even give him or her a feeling of incompetence. Above all, Europe is not only present on the field through its subsidies but also through the regulations it imposes. Many constituency members conclude that EU norms make their work more complicated, not only because they represent an additional constraint on their range of action, but also because they may turn out to be ill-adapted—from their point of view—to the specificities of their local area. Thus MP Jean-Pierre Brard, Mayor of 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 105

Montreuil until 2008, said that ‘Europe is a bankomat’, but also argued that it had cost millions for his town of more than 100,000 inhabitants.

We were made to dismantle all the playgrounds in the town parks because they didn’t meet European standards. It cost us ten million francs, completely incredible! There had never been a single accident on that equipment! I think there are powerful groups, businesses, who lobby Brussels to get the standards revised.

The MPs that hold several offices simultaneously do not all speak nega- tively about Europe, however. Many refer to the twinning programmes, the hosting of overseas students, or the border location of their constituency. Contrary to the criticisms regarding regulations from Brussels, however, those positive comments are often imprecise, abstract and far removed from European issues. When questioned about the European aspect of town management in Rouen (111,000 inhabitants), Pierre Albertini, then MP and Mayor, mentioned a range of different factors in quite vague terms: Europe is a ‘horizon’, a space for ‘confrontation’, and ‘competition between territories’ in which the town is ‘immersed’. The comments of Bernard Derosier, MP and President of the Département Council for Nord, are in the same vein.

Pierre Albertini: Our scope is clearly not limited to France. You can see where Rouen is. Our trade area is north-west Europe. It is very clearly defined. It’s a scope that seems natural to us. We host European students. We’re twinned with some European towns. It seems to me that in terms of heritage and tourism, we have to be aware of what other European towns are doing. We are strongly immersed in Europe. Added to which, in Rouen, because it’s Jean Lecanuet’s town,4 there is a European resonance that is obviously particularly strong. Bernard Derosier: I’m the Member for a département on the border originally, so a département in a French area close to a Belgian area. So that’s an additional reason for me to be interested in the European dimension. And from there, my activities aim to also contribute to the possible development, the progress, of the European Union. On a different note, in passing, I’ll just mention that I’m the 106 O. ROZENBERG

President of the Département Council for Nord. So, with that assembly I put in place a policy of international relations and European relations through the twinning of towns in each country of the Union, to contribute in a certain way, with the local government, to European integration.

Examples of successful relationships between the local and European levels resulting from holding several offices simultaneously are few and far between. Jean-Claude Daniel, elected mayor of Chaumont in 1995 and MP in 1997, became interested in the regulations regarding international trade. He published several parliamentary reports on the subject and went to Seattle. He explains that his interest was born from following up on questions relating to economic development, or small artisanal or commercial businesses, in the context of his mandate as a town councillor since 1989 in the opposition and then in the majority. The local focus thus does not necessarily lead to the kind of ‘holes in the pavement’ concerns that are the typical caricature of local issues in the political spheres. These counterexamples are limited, however.

The Delegation for the EU and the Local Perspective The localist perspective does not always lead to the neglect of European issues. It also translates into a particular interpretation of certain specialist procedures associating the Parliament with European issues. These procedures essentially aim to counter the loss of legislative power to the government on European issues by allowing Parliament to intervene prior to the European decision; they were therefore not created with local concerns in mind. However, like other parliamentary tools (private members’ bills, questions, amendments, study groups, etc.) these procedures may be adapted for localist purposes, as some activities of the Delegation for the EU suggest (Le Lidec 2008). The responsiveness to constituency views and requests constitutes a major part of the activities filled by French MPs—a characteristic that impacted the way both Assemblies were Europeanised (Thomas 2016). Four degrees can be distinguished in gaug- ing the localist dimension of European mobilisation. The first element is the very belonging to EU committees. A minority of members of the Delegation and of the Committee for European Affairs have decided to join this structure based on specific local considerations. 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 107

Many of these MPs hail from rural constituencies, such as François Guillaume (UMP MP from 1993 to 2007), and Christian Paul (Socialist MP from 1997 to 2017). We also find MPs from overseas territories such as Camille Darsières (from 1993 to 2002) followed by Louis-Joseph Manscour (from 2002 to 2012) for Martinique. The Norman MP Daniel Paul (from 1997 to 2012), who was also Deputy Mayor of Le Havre until 2001, explains that his group picked him in 1997 to be one of two Communists in the Delegation because of European responsibilities concerning maritime transport. He adds: ‘That’s the reason I found myself there. I had no particular competences nor any particular interest in Europe’. Maritime transport, the CAP or EU policies regarding ultra-peripheral regions can therefore constitute the principle motivation of some MPs to join the Delegation. In the Senate, Senators who invest the most in European issues often are from border regions: Hubert Haenel, who chaired the Delegation from 1999 to 2010 is one example. The second degree is selective attention. A parliamentarian may concentrate on draft norms that concern his or her constituency. Thus, with overbooked schedules and time a scarce resource, most MPs and their Parisian assistants cursorily scan files with their constituency in mind. Thierry Mariani, MP for Vaucluse at the time of the interview, explains in relation to the preparatory documents for the Delegation meeting:

I read the subjects that interest me. See, for example, if I take the file for the next meeting—I haven’t read about agriculture, I’ll tell you that frankly. Because if you skim through, you’ll see it’s about livestock, farming—I don’t come from a constituency where there is farming. I know nothing about it, it’s not that it’s not interesting but… I know about Mediterranean production or viticulture, but farming… I don’t even know the French texts on farming.

This local perspective quickly reaches its limits: rare are those European documents that can be judged specifically relevant to a given constituency. Table 4.1 shows the list of documents examined by members of the Delegation during their meeting on 19 March 2003. Each member received a file of which the first page presented all the European texts to be considered, in the same way as the table below does. An administrator then prepared a three- to six-page analysis per document according to an identical schema. A quick glance at the table might leave one doubtful as to the local dimension of European affairs. The first document deals with counterfeit 108 O. ROZENBERG

Table 4.1 Title of texts distributed to members of the Delegation during the meeting on 19 March 2003

Foreign trade Proposal for a Council Regulation concerning the intervention of customs authorities regarding merchandise suspected of contravening certain intellectual property rights, as well as the action to be taken concerning merchandise contravening intellectual property rights Energy Proposal for a Council and Parliamentary Directive concerning the promotion of cogeneration based on a useful heat demand in the internal energy market CFSP & Project for a Council Joint Action 2003/…/CFSP amending Joint external Action 2002/210/CFSP relative to the EU Police Mission in relations Bosnia-Herzegovina CAP Proposal for a Council Directive establishing EU measures in controlling foot and mouth disease and amending Directive 92/46/CEE Budgetary Preliminary draft amending budget no. 1 for 2003—General Statement questions of Revenue—Statement of Revenue and Expenditure—Section III—Commission Economic and Recommendation of the European Central Bank of 3 February 2003 to Monetary the Council of the EU relative to the amendment of Article 10.2 of the Policy Statute of the European System of Central Banks and of the European Central Bank goods, an issue which may have significant local repercussions, but the four-line-long title needs decrypting because it does not include the word ‘counterfeit’. The same remark applies to the second document, the object of which is completely incomprehensible for anyone unaware that cogeneration refers to the simultaneous production of heat and electricity. The document dealing with the CFSP had been adopted by the General Affairs Council in their meeting the day before. The next text on the CAP is likely to interest an MP from a constituency with a farming or livestock industry. The document on the budgetary questions pertains to the reform of fishing policies, but nothing in the title would suggest this. Finally, the last text aims to reform the ECB in the perspective of enlargement. The stakes are high but do not concern any particular part of France more than any other. Overall, only the document dealing with foot and mouth disease is likely to be of interest to a busy constituency member. The third degree is postal distribution. European documents with a local dimension may be sent to the constituency and the social groups concerned. One parliamentary assistant explained that he had sent a document concerning the EU viticulture agreements with Eastern European 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 109 countries to the winemakers’ union in his constituency. The direct involvement of the MP thus appears quite limited, based on the comments made by this same assistant:

He has been a member of the Delegation because he is elected in Alsace. So, he is sensitive to European issues. But he doesn’t participate in its projects anymore because he doesn’t have time, because of his workload. He even thought about leaving but he has stayed because it means I could have access to the Delegation’s documents. (I57)

Fourth: local spin on an information report. Table 4.2 lists 16 of the 109 reports defended by the Assembly’s Delegation for the EU during the 11th legislature, characterised by a strong local dimension. Conducting a report on a locally focused matter can be an opportunity for MPs to increase their contacts with the social groups in their constituency. They may meet with the leaders of professional organisations, in the field or in the MP’s offices. For instance, Marie-Hélène Aubert, a Green MP, explains that the day before the interview she invited agricultural workers from Eure-et-Loir, the département of her constituency, to participate in the hearing of a Canadian anti-GMO activist. Usually MPs have

Table 4.2 Reports with a local dimension presented by the Delegation for the EU (1997–2002)

Alain Barrau Reform of the common organisation of the wine market (1999) Didier Boulaud Public transport users faced with de-regulation (2001) Proposals for directives concerning EU railways (1999) Maurice Ligot Social contributions in the textile industry (1997) François Guillaume Organisation of markets in the sugar sector (2001) Biofuels and the EU (2000) Marie-H. Aubert Voluntary dissemination of GMOs in the environment (2000) Jean-Marie Bockel The fight against clandestine immigration in the EU (2002) Overview of trans-border cooperation in the context of the Schengen Convention (1999) Camille Darsières Ultra-peripheral regions in the EU (2001) Common organisation of the banana market sector (2000) Bernard Derosier The creation of the Single European Sky and Air Traffic and the environment (2001) Air transport in the European era (1998) Nicole Ameline Reform of the common organisation of the fishing and aquaculture market (1999) Pierre Lellouche Opening of the European art market (1999) Daniel Paul Access to the port services market (2001) 110 O. ROZENBERG long-established contacts with the most important groups in their constituency. Reports aim to develop the image of the MPs, rather than simply recognition, to ensure they are seen working with and listening to constituents, and to show they know how to grasp issues. Beyond the associations, lobbies and local representatives concerned, the parliamentarian may also make his or her work known in the local media. Local concerns may thus be articulated by members of the Delegation for the EU and the Committee that has followed it. Although Article 88-4 of the Constitution was not written with a localist perspective in 1992, the flexibility of its application allows for the orientation of European actions in that direction. The Delegations have rapidly extri- cated themselves from the simple task of examining draft European legislation and can choose to dedicate their time to a wide range of subjects. Indeed, their margin for initiative is wider than that of other committees. However, a detailed study of different localist motivations leads to the conclusion that the Delegations are not the most suitable spaces for constituency members. If some EU files, such as the CAP, are crucial on a local level, most European issues do not have a local dimension. Or rather, they are of no more concern to one particular area than to any other. The detailed analyses of draft EU norms, organised in the delegations, quickly become tiresome for constituency members. The Delegation’s active MPs whose engagement has a strong local dimension are also interested in aspects of the parliamentary position other than merely serving their constituency. The interview conducted with the communist MP Daniel Paul gave the impression of an MP who is above all concerned with fighting economic liberalism, and the interview with the Socialist Christian Paul, the image of an MP interested in partisan issues and debating ideas. The ‘real’ constituency members do not attend the meetings. The MPs discussed in this chapter who fall into this category—Jacques Godfrain, Alain Marleix, Henri Sicre, Laurence Dumont, Michel Hunault, and Pierre Albertini—are not members of the Delegation. Yet they are not necessarily inactive on European issues.

The CAP and Structural Funds: Less than Decisive Lobbying Constituency members are neither very present nor very active in Parliament because they prefer to remain in their constituency, and devote their time and energy to local questions, given their local mandate. Yet, 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 111 certain EU policies do have important local repercussions, beginning with the CAP in rural areas or the cohesion policies in struggling regions. MPs and Senators seek to be active when it comes to creating or implementing these policies, given their financial importance. A study of their engagement in agricultural issues or in structural policy shows however that lobbying by these MPs has no profound impact.

MPs: Cogs in a Neo-corporatist Agricultural System Agriculture is a sector of specific public action. Its budget and its norms are theoretically European, but its organisation remains largely neo-corporatist to the extent that the French State relies on the dominant union to manage, or co-manage, the sector. Indeed, the professionals in this sector are remarkably well-organised, well-unionised, well-mobilised, and well- informed. What role is there for a parliamentarian from a rural constituency in this context? The MPs mainly tend to be spokespeople for the agricultural lobbies, in the national and sometimes European spheres of political power. The relationship between the Parliament and the agricultural world is in fact a fairly close one, particularly for the (neo-)Gaullists (Bruneteau 1994). The study trips which allow MPs and agricultural leaders to spend time together are one example among many. In the spring of 2005, five Senators and MPs of the UMP Party travelled to six countries in Western Europe with leaders representing all the professional groups in the agricultural sector. These trips were intended to analyse the conditions under which these countries put the CAP reforms into practice, and to lead to the submission of a White Paper to the Minister for Agriculture. Some MPs are also called upon to participate in consultative organisations alongside professionals from the field. Jacques Godfrain, Pierre Lequiller, and Hubert Haenel were thus members of the Council for European and International Forecasting on Agriculture and Food Supply, set up from 2002 to 2007 by the Minister for Agriculture. The crossover between lobbying and parliamentary representation is occasionally even more pronounced when some MPs are ex-leaders of the agricultural unions, such as Christian Jacob, leader of the main right-wing group in the Assembly since 2010. Overall, pressure by the agricultural unions tends to bear fruit since the authorities generally defend their concerns in European and international negotiations, sometimes even against their own convictions. This view was 112 O. ROZENBERG expressed by François Huwart, the former Secretary of State for Foreign Trade under Jospin (1999–2002):

On the CAP, I was at the forefront of the issue, I was the go-between with rural unions and so forth, for very political reasons. My own personal view is very different from the politics I was defending. The subsidies that we bring to our own agriculture have disastrous consequences in the South. And do you say that at the market in Nogent-le-Rotrou? No, I don’t say it at the market in Nogent-le-Rotrou.5

Louis Le Pensec, Minister for Agriculture under Lionel Jospin (1997– 1998), drew criticism from President Chirac in 1998 for defending a reorientation of the CAP and a decrease in productivism. He abandoned his position a few months later. The difficulties that MPs, and French politicians more generally, face in trying to diverge from the dominant perspectives of professional organisations lead them to take up a defensive position in the context of the CAP reforms that began in 1992 (Fouilleux 2003). As a result, what Pierre Muller (2010, p. 343) depicts as an ‘inability of agricultural elites to construct an offensive discourse when faced with changes to the cognitive matrix’, in a context of the exhaustion of the modernist productivist agricultural model, was strengthened by the links between politics and agriculture in France. If parliamentarians can be mobilised and active on the issue of the CAP as lobbyists for professional organisations, we might wonder at the impacts of their activity. Can MPs and Senators efficiently lobby national and European authorities on CAP issues? Henri Nallet, who was Minister for Agriculture from 1985 to 1986 and then from 1988 to 1990, and who also chaired the Delegation for the EU from 1997 to 1999, argues that the impact agricultural organisations make through demonstrations is greater than that indirectly exerted via parliamentary representation.

And can the Parliament help—support the government in negotiations? Yes, yes. What the Parliament can do in negotiations is to play the role of the Folketing in Denmark a bit. In other words, say to the Minister: “I give you a mandate to do this”. The Minister comes in and says: “you know, I have my MPs who…” It’s connivance. Did you experience that as a Minister? Of course, yes, well it’s a little… No, I preferred to make use of the agricultural leaders by saying: “I’m going to have demonstrations; Paris will be up in arms.” It was more efficient. 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 113

Direct intervention by some MPs within EU institutions to defend the farmers of their constituency did indeed have limited impact. Jacques Godfrain for example, who was MP from 1978 to 2007 and who introduced himself as ‘the MP for Roquefort’ (the small city that gave its name to the famous cheese), was confronted with a trade war between the US and the EU. In July 1999 the United States decided to introduce a high customs duty on certain products including Roquefort cheese, following an EU directive banning growth hormones in beef. The initial reflex of the Mayor of Millau was to put pressure on the French authorities, then to go to Brussels to see the Commission. In 2001 he explained:

The real negotiator on this issue isn’t French. The real negotiator is European. So, it was necessary to go beyond the French government, to first tell the French government to act on the negotiator. As not much happened we went directly to the negotiator. But it didn’t make much progress. The Americans are still in a situation of power that we have not overcome just yet.

Godfrain finally took his case to the United States Ambassador in France. This example demonstrates how an MP can knock on all the doors, national, European, or diplomatic, with no success. Ten years later, in January 2009, Godfrain’s successor in the third constituency of Aveyron, the UMP member Alain Marc, was received on the same subject at the United States Embassy without any resulting progress.6 In August 1999, the famous attack on the McDonalds in Millau by members of the Farmers’ Federation (a left-wing agriculture union), led by José Bové, was also a response to the surcharge on Roquefort cheese. If the legitimacy of this action is debatable, the media attention it attracted helped to increase pressure on the French executive, with undoubtedly greater impact than the stifled lobbying of the ‘MP-mayor’.

Difficulties Accessing EU Subsidies Many parliamentarians are also engaged in obtaining European subsidies for their constituency. Rare are those MPs interviewed who do not mention European Structural Funds, that is, the European policy of supporting areas in need of assistance. Social and economic cohesion policy, also called structural policy, is financed by different sources but principally by the European Regional Development Fund (ERDF, focused on the economic aspects of cohesion), the European Social Fund (ESF, focused on 114 O. ROZENBERG the societal aspect, including training assistance) and the Cohesion Fund (aimed at the least wealthy countries). The aims, zoning, and financing of these funds are defined every seven years during multiannual financial framework negotiations (1993–1999, 2000–2006, 2007–2013). The clerks of both houses confirm that they receive a great many questions on this subject. One Senate administrator is in fact specifically responsible for European subsidies. As the MP Paulette Guinchard-Kunstler argues, parliamentarians’ interest in these subsidies may be the result of external solicitations:

There are local leaders who come and speak to us about European policy, generally associations for the fight against social exclusion, and they know how to go about getting the money. But the main request is for funding from the EU. Otherwise, on the big European questions… And with these requests for funding, do you have a role to play? No, no.

Although national MPs may not indeed have a role to play in cohesion policies, their influence is not as minimal as she implies here. Given the cumulation of offices practiced until 2017, MPs may be led to participate within the context of their other mandates. Pragmatic above all, constituency members are not concerned with knowing in which role they are being solicited or are soliciting. Parliamentarians may intervene at different stages of the implementation of cohesion policy. They may contribute to the definition of the overall development project or to the directions of the conversion of an area early in the process. At that stage, obtaining European credit is often simply one aspect among others in a more general strategy. The communist Jean-Claude Sandrier, who was Mayor of Bourges (67,000 inhabitants) from 1993 to 1995 and MP for Cher from 1997 to 2012, explains that he tried, with other local representatives, to outline the development direction of his region, which is quite fragile economically. The creation of a national centre for industrial and environmental risk was retained for Bourges, and a university and industrial research structure for Vierzon. In 1998 an inter-ministerial committee on spatial planning came with the confirmation and financial support of the State to these projects. European credits came only in the third stage, as the Cher area was eligible for Objective Two of the Structural Fund (2000–2006), which aims to boost regions in their reconversion. 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 115

Local representatives are also consulted at the beginning of each planning period to establish the content of the different measures to be financed within the framework of the cohesion policy. Such planning is set out by the Delegation for Spatial Planning7 along with the local authorities and negotiated with the services of the European Commission. In accordance with the overarching principles of European policy, the programming also considers the different national co-financing measures. Once the budget programme was adopted, the local authorities could bring forward project funding requests to the Programme Committee, presided over by the Prefect of the region. Their interlocutor was therefore the General Secretary for regional affairs of the prefecture of the region. Rules were changed in 2014, since nearly all FEDER credits and more than one third of the European Social Fund credits are now dealt with directly by regional authorities.8 Until 2014 at least, the ability to obtain European subsidies was therefore heavily restricted, given the prior definition of major principles of the funds, as well as their programming and the control of the processes by the State administration. However, attribution of local subsidies remained subject to certain political considerations. Some local authorities attempted to ‘dress up’ a given project that would otherwise not be eligible for European funding. MPs asked the minister to support a case under study by the administration or let the prefect understand that they might do so. Local politicians who also had a parliamentary mandate were often more influential and more credible than the others. Their ability to apply pressure did not hinge on institutional levers that would have been granted by access to the Parliament, but rather on the logic of parliamentarian selection: the most influential local politicians generally become MPs or Senators. Their access to the houses is an indication of their personal political credit. In Picardy, an MP and President of the Département Council thus obtained funding from the ERDF to build a public swimming pool, even though the project was not ‘structural’ in the terms of the administration, which aims to concentrate funds around a few key axes rather than disperse them.9 The influence of politics does not necessarily take effect through active pressure but rather through the perceived ability to apply that pressure. In Basse-Normandie, a prefect who had a strained relationship with the MP-Mayor of a large town in his département therefore asked the general secretary for regional affairs to double the European credits awarded for the building of a music hall in the town because he was 116 O. ROZENBERG concerned that the MP might draw on his close connections with Jacques Chirac, then President of the Republic. These examples are exceptions, however, as the administration is most often able to resist pressure by local politicians. The MP Laurence Dumont affirmed for example that her assistant put together a request for European funding in the middle of the 11th Parliament (1997–2002) to provide computers for the schools in a remote area in her Calvados constituency. This project was part of the Community initiative programme LEADER+ directed towards rural development. Dumont says that ‘it took really a very, very long time to obtain subsidies that were pretty marginal in the end’. Eventually, despite an initial agreement, the prefect of the area blocked the transfer of European funding, contesting the co-funding arrangement with the parliamentary reserve.10

Zoning for Structural Funds The administration can only be circumvented from above, i.e. by the government. Often MPs and Senators attempt to play on their privileged relationships with a minister to obtain European subsidies for their constituency. Moscovici’s office for example was contacted during the 11th Parliament by the leader of the Socialist Group in the Assembly, the Mayor of Nantes Jean-Marc Ayrault, who hoped to secure the headquar- ters of the European Food Safety Authority for his town (I97). The French government eventually proposed Lille, and Parme was chosen by the Council. The failure of internal lobbying by a leader with the political clout of Ayrault suggests just how difficult it is to obtain results. One of Moscovici’s assistants agrees that even though the Minister could give the MPs information about setting up funding requests, for example on the European subsidies for associations, ‘there are things that go beyond the Minister, things we can do nothing about, like eligibility for Structural Funds’ (I97). The minister might be influential, however, when it comes to deciding the priorities of the cohesion policies, particularly concerning the zoning of Structural Funds. Two ministers who participated in negotiations, one in 1993 and the other 1999, agree on this point. Daniel Hoeffel, Junior Minister for Spatial Planning and Local Authorities in the Balladur government (1993–1995) and Pierre Moscovici, Junior Minister for European Affairs in the Jospin government (1997–2002), both confirm that they were called upon frequently by all types of local politicians during the 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 117 negotiations. They were in fact able to contribute to the eligibility of certain areas for European funding: part of Nord in 1993 and part of Île-de- France in 1999. Above all, they both prioritised their area of election, Alsace for Hoeffel and Franche-Compté for Moscovici.

Daniel Hoeffel: I negotiated the second generation of Structural Funds in 1993. It was tough but fascinating. It was a power struggle with lots of money at stake. Negotiation is different from what one might expect. There was nothing in Objective 1 on backward regions. Commissioner Millan said, “France has nothing”. With Jacques Delors, I managed to get Objective 1 for the north of France, and with the Belgian commissioner we got Objective 2 for my region, Alsace.11 Pierre Moscovici: For the first time we considered Île-de-France’s eligibility for Structural Funds, which had never happened before. So that’s a political decision, the government was involved; everyone got to say their piece, even the Prime Minister. The second [example] is myself, I’m elected, I was elected—Jean-Pierre Chevènement12 too—in the France-Comté region, North Franche-Comté. In the industrial area of Belfort Montbéliard, where we were both elected, eligibility was debatable. Depending on the point of view we were either just above or just below. So that makes a difference, yes.

The use of the ministerial position to benefit the area of election is a well-documented phenomenon. The same Hoeffel explains that he had been appointed Secretary of State in 1978 when he was President of the Département Council for Bas-Rhin with the express mission from President Giscard to consolidate Strasbourg as the seat of the European Parliament. Pork-barrelling on a European level by the ministers themselves means that a lowly MP has next to no hope of having an influence in drawing up the map of Structural Funds. However, the largest regions often have ‘their’ Minister or Secretary of State in government, the President and the Prime Minister making sure that the government is approximately representative from a geographical viewpoint. Thus, MPs can coordinate with ‘their own’ minister, contact further facilitated if they belong to the same political coalition. Mobilisation may be collective or at the regional level 118 O. ROZENBERG or go through the instruments available in the two houses. In July 1993, resolutions made by the Assembly and the Senate reinforced the position of the French government in the negotiation of Structural Funds concerning the eligibility of French Hainaut for Objective One, as well as concerning the principle of an infra-departmental zoning limit (Nuttens 2001, pp. 279–280). Situated around Douai, Valenciennes and Maubeuge in the North of France, the Hainaut area has seen many of its factories close over the last 40 years and was thus eligible for assistance as an area in reconversion. Hoeffel indeed refers to the ‘support’ of the Parliament: ‘[T]he French Parliament has been a solid support base for me in the negotiations about Structural Funds in which nearly all parliamentarians felt concerned. Many MPs came to me to ask me not to forget a particular area; I got lots of requests, both written and verbal’. Together, local representatives and parliamentarians can put significant pressure on the government, particularly during negotiation of the distribution of funds, and even more so if their action is noticed by the media and political parties. Thus, in July 2005, the representatives for Hainaut alerted both the government and the public to the risk of a sharp drop in European credits from 2006.13 Politicians from the UDF Senator Valérie Létard to the leader of the Communist group in the Assembly, Alain Bocquet, petitioned to maintain the existing European budget. The ability of these claims movements to unite representatives from all political fields (with the exception of the National Front) is seen by both the media and the government as evidence of the region’s energetic mobilisation. To respond to these claims, Christian Estrosi, the new Minister of Spatial Planning in the Villepin government, requested a meeting with the Commissioner for Regional Policy Danuta Hübner. The mobilisation paid off because the Hainaut area (along with Corsica), of which the GDP had exceeded the threshold in the wake of the EU enlargement, benefitted in the end from a transitional support payment of 70 million euros. Overall, from Roquefort to Hainaut, from Calvados to Alsace, there is no shortage of local representatives, MP-mayors or MP-presidents of Département Councils wanting to defend the interests of their local areas and to represent the concerns of the local socio-professional groups. These constituency members are undoubtedly active on issues involving the local repercussions of European policy, as well as on the local repercussions of national policy—the installation of public utilities for example. Their strategies of mobilisation make use of various leverage instruments and strategies, aiming to influence by strength in numbers and/or the proximity to 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 119 those making the decisions. The examples of the CAP and Structural Funds suggest that this lobbying is rarely decisive. MPs’ remoteness from decision-making centres, the introduction of complex sector-specific public policy instruments, the interface position of the administration in a multi-level system of governance: each factor contributes to reducing the role of national parliamentarians. Their ability to act as intermediaries rather than simply as lobbyists is thus decisive here.

Constituency Members as Intermediaries Although they are marginalised as decision-makers, parliamentarians can find a place as intermediaries or go-betweens. Public policy analysis demonstrated long ago that influence may rely on the ability of certain actors to link rather than to lead (Nay and Smith 2002, p. 12). The examples of Alain Marleix on the CAP and Laurence Dumont on cohesion policy show that national parliamentarians can indeed act as intermediaries on European issues. In doing so, they invest in the most central aspects of the constituency member understood as a parliamentary role: a taste for initiating projects on one hand and a profound attachment to a specific area on the other. These motivations for action can be understood in not only strategic but also psychological terms.

Alain Marleix: Between Cantal Farmers and Jacques Chirac Along with other examples, such as the MP Henri Sicre’s defence of Banyuls wine, the activities of Alain Marleix in the area of the CAP illustrate the ability of parliamentarians to intervene on different political stages. Born in 1946, Marleix was an MP first for the RPR and then the UMP from 1993 to 2007, before obtaining a position in government under Fillon. Département councillor for Cantal from 1988 to 2015, he was also Mayor of Massiac from 1995 to 2007 (a town of 1900 inhabitants). At the beginning of the 12th Parliament in June 2002, he was appointed rapporteur for the Finance Committee on the agriculture and fishing budget. Whilst studying the agriculture budget for 2003 he became sensitive to the question of the ‘grass bonus’. The government had decided that from 1 April 2003, the bonuses for the maintenance of extensive livestock farming—referred to as the grass bonus—would only be paid to farmers having signed local activity agreements (contrats territoriaux d’exploitation, CTE). Introduced just after the CAP reform of 1992 in the 120 O. ROZENBERG context of agro-environmental policies, the grass bonus aimed to encourage a more balanced use of land. Awarded per hectare of grazing land, this payment was intended to maintain farmland in a way that was considered good for the environment. In practice, it also allowed subsidies to flow to farms in underdeveloped areas. In summer 2002, the backlog in the CTE agreements foreshadowed a delicate situation concerning the payment of the grass bonuses for the following year. Marleix calculated that in his département, 90% of farmers would lose between 4000 and 8000 euros a year. He therefore lobbied for the introduction of a new subsidy. The Agro-Environmental Pasture Bonus was announced by the Prime Minister Jean-Pierre Raffarin and his Minister for Agriculture Hervé Gaymard at the Livestock Summit at Clermont-Ferrand on 7 October 2002. This subsidy, like its predecessor, falls under the measures of the second pillar of the CAP, i.e. rural development policy. Consequently, it required the approval of the European Commission to be put in place. Marleix explains that his role in this issue had been to ‘goad’ (aiguillonner)—a goad (aiguillon) being a long stick with a pointed end used for driving cattle.

And on this particular issue your role was… Well, to goad. Yes, to make connections because the rapporteur is there, there to listen, so the complaints of the unions […] So to listen to them and then to be there on the ground to pass on everyone’s desiderata to my colleagues in Parliament. And then to goad the minister and the departments, to drive them in a particular direction. It’s not co-management at all.

Beyond this specific policy, Marleix acted as an information vector in the area of the CAP. In close contact with professional organisations who related their problems and concerns, he passed the information on to the French executive and even to the President: he had known Jacques Chirac since the 1970s and had direct access to him.14 In 2002 he stressed the President’s sensitivity to agricultural issues: ‘We wouldn’t pretend to teach him anything, but we pass on the information just the same, it’s always useful. […] So, we pass it on, that’s part of my role’. He telephoned Chirac from time to time and also gave him notes. Above all, he was frequently in contact with the agriculture advisors of both the President and the Prime Minister. The MP for Cantal also maintained close connections with the European institutions. He went to Brussels several times a year to meet his compatriot Joseph Daul, then chair of the agricultural and rural development committee of the EP, as well as other members of the Directorate- 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 121

General for Agriculture at the Commission, even when there were no urgent issues to which he had to attend. Daul, a former President of the National Beef Federation, was well known to him and a fellow member of the UMP. Marleix also had a good relationship with Brice Hortefeux, then an MEP (1999–2005) also based in Auvergne. From 1985 to 1993 Marleix was himself an MEP. As the Vice-Chair for the Agricultural Committee he had followed the 1992 CAP reform closely, as well as several cases relating to areas of extensive agriculture in the south of France. In the early years of this century, Marleix took up an intermediary position between various French and European actors involved in the CAP. Table 4.3 summarises the different interlocutors with whom he was in contact. Four elements contributed to Marleix’s intermediary position: (1) his closeness to the President, acquired over the course of his career, (2) his experience in the European Parliament, which provided him with a certain amount of knowledge of the different issues and people in place, (3) his institutional position at the National Assembly, as the rapporteur for the agricultural budget and finally (4) the victory of the right in the 2002 elections. The parliamentary mandate and the path that led there thus provided the institutional resources necessary to play the mediator. Marleix’s involvement with the CAP issue is clearly due to the characteristics of his constituency, in which 23.8% of those in the workforce are farmers.15 An interpretation based purely on electoral strategy would be an insufficient explanation, however. His activity would seem superfluous, or at least disproportionate, if his only motivation was re-election. The second constituency in the Cantal area has long been held by the right; Marleix inherited it from the former second to Georges Pompidou. In 1997 he was one of the rare MPs on the right to be directly elected in the

Table 4.3 Actors in contact with Alain Marleix (2002)

Brussels – Joseph Daul, French MEP – Public servants at the European Commission Paris – Jacques Chirac and his agriculture advisor – The government: the Minister for Agriculture, the Prime Minister’s agriculture advisor – National agricultural unions Local – Brice Hortefeux, MEP based in Auvergne – Local agricultural unions – Farmers and the rural population in general 122 O. ROZENBERG first round. The key to understanding his mobilisation for the issue lies more in the normative and emotional investment of the MP as the protector of a region and its population. The constituency member is a parliamentarian who is particularly concerned with individual and collective benefits that he might bring to the area where he was elected and to which he feels a deep sense of attachment. In the interview he gave us, lasting less than an hour, Marleix uses the word ‘field’ (terrain) seven times and the word ‘concrete’ (concret) ten times. This suggests the closeness of the MP for Cantal to his constituency. He says of his electors: ‘[T]hey’re quite attached to their representatives, whoever they are. These are areas where the electorate stays loyal. I take an interest in agriculture, so they don’t think I’m too bad’. His words convey a deep respect and admiration for the farmers:

These are not people who can be easily fooled. I think that when you talk farming with farmers you have to really know what you’re talking about, because they’ll judge a politician quickly, see if he’s just got superficial knowledge or if he’s really studied the issues. These are not just general ideas, it’s concrete, it’s financial.

As is often the case in interviews with political representatives, he is talking about himself by proxy when talking about his electors. Everything suggests that Marleix feels close to the image he paints of the farmers, whether it be in his attachment to the region or in his taste for the concrete aspects of the issues rather than the theoretical debates. When asked very generally about Europe (‘If I say the word Europe…’), from the second minute of the interview he asserts an opposition between those who are interested in theoretical debates and those who deal with the questions on a concrete level.

So, I’m really in the front line, I’m on the front line of these European problems because it’s concrete, it’s concrete. So, I don’t participate in the theoretical debates about the … the … future European Constitution, on the evolution of the Union, on enlargement, deepening. They’re debates that are very, very interesting, fascinating, which interest me, but which are more the area of the European Delegation.

This favour for localism comes with a certain modesty in self-presentation that can be understood as a way of managing the poor image of constituency members, along the lines of Goffman’s concept of role distance 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 123

(Goffman 1961).16 Marleix’s comments about Europe and defence are a good example of this. Whereas he had already explained the mechanisms of the CAP in detail, here he seems almost to apologise for referring to an issue he is not an expert on. The legitimacy of speech and action must be based on a profound knowledge of an issue, a knowledge that is itself grounded in the concrete, local, and practical implications of that issue.

I think that will be the next, the next step for Europe there, that’s a Europe at the level of defence, and everyone knows it anyway. Well, I’m not a specialist in that area. There are people who could talk to you about it in much more detail here at the Assembly: in the Finance Committee and in the National Defence Committee.

Laurence Dumont: Between the Rural Mayors in Calvados and the Prefecture of the Region Born in 1958, Laurence Dumont was a Socialist MP for the fifth constituency of Calvados from 1997 to 2002, and then for the second constituency from 2007. In March 1998 the local representatives from Bessin set up the ‘Bessin Country’, the ‘Country’ being a local government structure created by the 1995 law on spatial planning. It brought together most of the districts in her constituency and some 70,000 inhabitants. Shortly afterwards the MP sent a questionnaire to the 168 mayors of her constituency, of whom 100 replied. She used this information to set up a request for the inclusion of Bessin Country during the zoning for Structural Funds. To this end, she contacted a member of Jospin’s office responsible for spatial planning, whom she knew personally. She also contacted Dominique Voynet, who was then Minister for Spatial Planning and the Environment. At the regional level she was in contact with the Prefect of the Basse-Normandie region and the General Secretariat for Regional Affairs. She was also supported by the Senator UDF/DL René Garrec, president of the region from 1986 to 2004. The Senator was a member of the National Council for Spatial Planning and Development, a consultative body that in 1999 submitted several recommendations regarding the distribution of subsidies. At the beginning of autumn 1999, the prefect of the region included most of Bessin Country in his proposition for Structural Funds zoning. In a context where the amount of land covered by these subsidies was being reduced both at the national level and in the 124 O. ROZENBERG

Table 4.4 Actors in contact with Laurence Dumont (2001)

Paris – Dominique Voynet, Minister for Spatial Planning and Environment – A member of Prime Minister Jospin’s staff Region – The prefecture of the region and a junior-prefect in Calvados – The president of the region – The rural mayors of the constituency three départements in the region, the MP managed to obtain the inclusion of a new district, that of Bayeux, which was the most densely populated one of her constituency. The Prefect’s decision was in fact heavily criticised on the right and most notably by the Speaker of the Senate. Although the regional administration was the decision-maker on this issue, the inclusion of Bayeux was helped by the mediation conducted by Dumont. Table 4.4 reviews the different actors she connected. The intermediary position played by the MP was strategic precisely because the contacts established at the local and national level put pressure on the regional administration. Dumont explains the delimitation of eligible zones in these terms:

I ended up discussing and pushing the interest of the thing because there comes a time when they’re doing the map, they have to have some local insight to help them really see it. Holding the pencil isn’t enough, there’s a time when we have to help guide them.

The MP was acting not simply as a broker, but playing a more cognitive role, articulating local institutional structure and European regional development policy—both processes that were changing rapidly at the end of the 1990s. A narrative emphasising the dynamism of Bessin Country was proffered even though an evaluation of the economic difficulties of the area might have worked against it. As it happened, the parliamentary mandate helped the MP situate herself between the different groups. Rural mayors regarded her consultation with them on a local project as something legitimate. In this instance, the fact that she had not cumulated her mandate with a local executive man- date17 helped Dumont to play the honest broker, even more so given she was one of the rare left-wing MPs in the country. In the absence of a budget and a team of collaborators, she was obliged to use her interpersonal contacts and to bring her network into play. Like Marleix, her experience 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 125 prior to becoming an MP was also decisive. Between 1990 and 1993 she was a collaborator with the Socialist group at the National Assembly responsible for European issues and held the same position in the Senate from 1993 to 1997. This experience helped her to familiarise herself with the EU and its policies and to build a network of personal contacts in Paris. She was also National Secretary for the Socialist Party in 2000, which demonstrates a certain degree of integration within the inner circle of Socialist leaders. Dumont’s engagement on this issue was due to electoral considerations, as she acknowledged in 2001: ‘I was elected in a constituency that was very difficult, it was very rural, so I had to be present on the ground’. She was ‘airdropped’ into Normandy in 1997 after having been a councillor in the 15th district in Paris and having run against Eduard Balladur, then incumbent Prime minister, in the legislative by-election in 1995. She snatched the constituency from François d’Harcourt of the UDF, MP since 1973, by some 1347 votes. In 2002 she ran alongside Louis Mexandeau,18 who had been in office since 1973 in a safer neighbouring constituency. Defeated in 2002, she eventually won in 2007. Beyond electoral questions, the interview conducted with Dumont shows her to be a woman of many projects. She describes in detail how one might in practice go about obtaining the zoning for Structural Funds or European funding to provide local primary schools with computers. Occasionally, her interview resembles an instruction manual. According to Searing, constituency members can be divided into two sub-roles. Welfare Officers made up three quarters of those in the House of Commons in the 1970s. They are equivalent to what the French MPs and their entourage call the ‘social worker’ (assistante sociale) role. This type of MP has a personal relationship with his or her electors; acting means seeking to specifically help the person who solicited aid. This first category of constituency members differs from the second, the Local Promoter, who develops a collective relationship with his or her electorate. Local promoters aim to initiate projects in their constituency, from factories to art festivals, which are beneficial to the whole local area. The story of several ongoing projects and the spirit of enterprise that these kinds of activities suggest that Dumont fits into the role of the local promoter. She conveys a certain image of herself, explaining that her actions rely on a combination of dynamism and tenacity on the one hand—she speaks of ‘fighting’ for the projects—and a certain degree of modesty on the other. Her narrative does not demonstrate that desire to claim the limelight that 126 O. ROZENBERG characterises so many politicians. For instance, she openly lauds the work of her assistant. The most important thing is to facilitate the project under examination by acting as a mediator and getting the concrete results needed for her constituency. The following extracts illustrate this:

It’s like for school funding, or computers in schools, nowhere is it written that one of the members of my office had to do those files, but I thought it was in the interest of the area, so I did it. Well, they did it mostly. In these instances, whether it’s for the Structural Funds, the CAP, or fishing, you play, well, I have the impression that you play the role of the facilitator. Yes, well, that’s it. I’ve always thought, that’s exactly the right word. I think that our role involves a lot of that, mediator, and facilitator. When people have a project. […] It’s true that we put people together, that’s how it moves forward.

In sum, constituency members do not appear condemned to play auxiliary lobbyists in European matters. They may act as intermediaries by linking different actors involved in various levels of decision-making: local, regional, national, and European. Past professional experience, in-depth knowledge of the issues and the extent of personal networks are all factors that contribute to creating favourable conditions for mediation. Moreover, the contrasting experiences of a constituency member long since implanted in a region and a young MP ‘airdropped’ into hostile territory have demonstrated, on one hand, the importance of an attachment to a region and a population, and on the other, a zeal for local projects. In both cases it seems that strictly vote-seeking considerations would not adequately explain their work as mediators. It is also the pleasure found in initiating projects, the attachment to one’s region and its population, and a feeling of responsibility towards them, as well as a belief in one’s own abilities, that help explain it. Amongst these psychological dispositions, a propensity to avoid attracting attention to oneself or to accept being merely one link in the chain is particularly important.

* * *

There is a kind of reciprocal indifference between constituency members and the EU: indifference first on the part of most parliamentarians who cumulate their mandates and thus prioritise the daily problems of their local electors over European debates, and the management of local areas 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 127 over the use of specialised instruments to scrutinise EU issues. Second, there is indifference on the part of European policies which from conception to implementation leave only a marginal place for national level representatives, even though these policies have a significant impact on local areas. Though EU policy was able to contribute to a certain resurgence of European cities by reinforcing the leadership of mayors (Le Galès 2002) or regional leaders (Pasquier 2012), this was not true for MPs and Senators. As it happens, the difficulty that this type of representative has in finding a place for him- or herself is not so much due to an all-powerful supra-national government than to the French administration’s desire to keep control of ‘state affairs’ (Hervieu 2010) such as the CAP and the Structural Funds. Whether they hold several offices simultaneously or not, parliamentarians are nevertheless engaged in trying to access EU subsidies on behalf of their region. They act as lobbyists, making the most of their networks or coordinating with others on a local level. Although this pressure is rarely decisive, it may have a certain effect when the MP manages to act as an intermediary between the different interests at stake. Connecting actors from different levels of governance may prove crucial to the extent that the European level contributes to weakening the chain of public policy action. Often, this brokerage is accompanied by a narrative concerning the future of a particular area, the philosophy behind public policy instruments, or the sector-specific (and sometimes temporary) ambitions of European policy. Some constituency members who seek to develop collective projects for their area in the role of the local promoter are particularly likely to blossom in this type of activity. Ultimately, instruments of parliamentary control, both traditional (budgetary reports for example) or specific to European questions (resolutions for example), are relatively unimportant for lobbying or mediation activities, which for the most part take place in discreet meetings, telephone calls, and the drafting of administrative applications. However, some of the work of the Committee for European Affairs does have a localist dimension, which underscores the flexibility of parliamentary instrumentation. Spending time in Paris, looking for allies, linking divergent interests or local narratives, maintaining contact with Brussels, not stealing the spot- light, adopting the vocabulary of decentralised administration, bringing together local representatives despite their party labels: these are the aspects of (inter)mediation that MPs and Senators may perform in European matters. Two characteristics that are common to parliamentar- 128 O. ROZENBERG ians in general, and to constituency members in particular, may help position them as intermediaries with Europe. First, the extent of social, interpersonal, and configurational connections in the parliamentary milieu appears unique compared to other kinds of political and socio-professional representation. Parliamentarians are clearly not making decisions about zoning for Structural Funds, nor are they behind the projects for their implementation. However, they are in contact with both the populations of their constituency and the different types of political and administrative elites involved. This institutional aspect confirms the role of parliamentary representation vis-à-vis the spread of information: one of the essential aspects of MPs and Senators’ work is to pass information up or down where necessary. In this respect, technical expertise on a particular issue is inseparable from an understanding of the state of mind of the relevant parties. The second characteristic that favours mediation has to do with the psychology of constituency members, and more specifically with the affective and emotional dimension of their relationship with electoral representation. Both the attachment of these members to the territory that they are protecting and their taste for projects resulting in concrete accomplish- ments are conducive to mediation. Mediation is also rooted in the psychological flexibility of these parliamentarians, a flexibility imposed by the multiplication of the various publics they must please and by the difficulty they have in changing the world. Philippe Braud thus writes, ‘the over- representation of this type of politician—enthusiastic, determined, deeply attached to the gratifications of politics in spite of the occasional blows, and who is otherwise “malleable”, i.e. open to compromise, adapting with ease to the evolution of ideas and situations, power relations—has discernible effects on the functioning of the institutions to which they belong’ (Braud 1996, p. 222). On European issues, the discernible effects of the psychological flexibility of some parliamentarians is visible in their ability to play facilitators, switchmen, go-betweens, or links, rather than decision-makers. If the fact that parliamentary representatives are elected is indeed conducive to mediation from both a psychological and an institutional perspective, it paradoxically does not guarantee publicity for their action. The different public policy narratives developed in this chapter remain elitist and only rarely emerge into the public space. Lobbying and parliamentary mediation related to the local impact of European policies are often the most obscure. Moreover, for better or worse, this discretion may be the 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 129 key to success. From this perspective, participation by parliamentarians in European governance does not attract public attention and does not contribute to the birth of a European public space. Constituency members do, however, have their own opinion on the EU; many of them are focused on the defence of land and tradition against Brussels.

Notes 1. French regions are divided into about 100 départements, an administrative unit dating from the French Revolution. 2. Although it does not correspond to a legal position, the expression Député- maire is commonly used in French to designate politicians who are simultaneously MPs and mayors. 3. With these mandates he was in approximately 400th place in the ranking published by Le Monde in October 2009, taking into account the budget of the local government (the first holding the most significant cumulation). 4. Mayor of Rouen from 1968 to 1993, Lecanuet was a prominent leader of the centre-right from the 1960s to the late 1980s. 5. Huwart was mayor of Nogent-le-Rotrou, a city in a rural region of Western France, population 10,000. 6. La Dépêche, 22 January 2009. The surcharge was eventually removed some months later. 7. The DATAR is a national agency. The department for European social funds of the Minister for Social Affairs is responsible for the social aspect of the cohesion policy. 8. Law no. 2014-58 of 27 January 2014. 9. These examples are drawn from a confidential study conducted in 2005 with people working in local administration services. 10. Managed by the Rapporteur General (in charge of scrutinising the Finance Bill) and the Chair of the Finance Committee within each house, the parliamentary reserve is intended to support local projects, especially investment programmes. It was regularly criticised and was eliminated in 2017. 11. Objective One concerns underdeveloped regions and Objective Two concerns the reconversion of struggling regions. Corsica or the DOM are also among the beneficiaries of Objective One. Bruce Millan was the European Commissioner for Regional Policy and Jacques Delors was the President of the Commission. 12. Jean-Pierre Chevènement, elected from the Belfort area, was Minister for Home Affairs under Jospin. 13. Libération, 16 July 2005. 130 O. ROZENBERG

14. In 1984 he was Junior Secretary General of the RPR when Chirac was President and had been given the responsibility of monitoring the federations and organisations—a position of trust if ever there was one. In 2001, he became Vice-President of the Friends of Jacques Chirac Society. 15. INSEE, results from the census of March 1999. 16. Searing uses the concept of ‘role distance’ to analyse constituency members (1994, pp. 156–159). 17. Laurence Dumont was elected Regional Councillor in Basse-Normandie area in 1998 and resigned in 2001 to take up a seat in opposition, in the Town Council in Caen. 18. As a suppléant, the suppléant is elected alongside the candidate and, in specific circumstances, takes the MP’s place should she resign.

References Bach, L. (2012). Faut-il abolir le cumul des mandats? Paris: Éditions Rue d’Ulm. Braud, P. (1996). L’émotion en politique. Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Bruneteau, B. (1994). Les paysans dans l’Etat. Le gaullisme et le syndicalisme agri- cole sous la Cinquième République. Paris: L’Harmattan. Costa, O., & Kerrouche, E. (2009). Representative Roles in the French National Assembly: The Case for a Dual Typology? French Politics, 7(3–4), 219–242. Favell, A. (2008). Eurostars and Eurocities: Free Movement and Mobility in an Integrating Europe. Malden: Blackwell. Fouilleux, E. (2003). La Politique argricole commune et ses réformes: une politique européene à l’épreuve de la globalisation. Paris: L’Harmattan. Goffman, E. (1961). Encounters. Indianapolis: Bobbs Merrill. Hervieu, B. (2010). Les agriculteurs dans la vie politique française. In N. Mayer, P. Muller, F. Purseigle, J. Rémy, & B. Hervieu (Eds.), Les mondes agricoles en politiques (pp. 19–38). Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Le Galès, P. (2002). European Cities: Social Conflict and Governance. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Le Lidec, P. (2008). Les députés, leurs assistants et les usages du crédit collabora- teurs. Une sociologie du travail politique. Sociologie du travail, 50(2), 147–168. Marrel, G. (2003). L’élu et son double. Cumul des mandats et construction de l’Etat républicain en France du milieu du XIXe au milieu du XXe siècle. Doctoral dissertation, IEP Grenoble. Muller, P. (2010). Introduction. In B. Hervieu, N. Mayer, P. Muller, F. Purseigle, & J. Rémy (Eds.), Les mondes agricoles en politique (pp. 339–350). Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Nay, O., & Smith, A. (2002). Les intermédiaires en politique. Médiation et jeux d’institutions. In O. Nay & A. Smith (Eds.), Le Gouvernement de compromis. Courtiers et généralistes dans l’action politique (pp. 1–22). Paris: Economica. 4 THE CONSTITUENCY MEMBER: DILETTANTE, LOBBYIST OR MEDIATOR 131

Nuttens, J. D. (2001). Le Parlement français et l’Europe: l’article 88-4 de la Constitution. Paris: LGDJ. Pasquier, R. (2012). Le pouvoir régional. Mobilisations, décentralisation et gouver- nance en France. Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Searing, D. (1994). Westminster’s World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Thomas, A. (2016). The ‘European Integration Paradox’. Comparing EU Practice and Discourse on the Role of Parliaments in the EU in the Assemblée Nationale and the Bundestag Across Time. Doctoral Dissertation, Sciences Po and the University of Cologne. CHAPTER 5

The Defender of Land and Tradition: The Activism of the Righter of Wrongs

The constituency members who occupy the two chambers of the French Parliament are not always indifferent to the construction of Europe, nor do they merely play the sporadic role of local promoter. In certain circumstances, their impression that Europe is a potential threat to cherished regional character may lead them to oppose EU standards. These national MPs are indeed most active whenever a social group from their constituency mobilises around a European question, especially when that problem is not rapidly resolved. These two conditions lead the representatives to mobilise around the issue, speaking out more frequently on the subject or engaging in strategies of various kinds. Indeed, MPs and Senators are never otherwise as involved as they are in this configuration of events, whatever their role. This chapter argues that the mobilisation of these MPs in this situation is not limited to the pursuit of electoral security. Rather, it represents the performance of their role as the defender of land and tradition, centred on the protection of local electors and their way of life. Both their ‘pastoral vocation’ (Traïni 2003, p. 182) as notables and their tendency to play the ‘righter of wrongs’1 are provoked by the Europeanisation of public standards. The passage of the bills on the hunting of migratory birds through the French Parliament emblematises this kind of mobilisation, in that the national legislature was operating both under pressure from hunters and within the constraints of a European directive from 1979. After considering the parliamentary dimensions of the drafting of the 1998 and 2000

© The Author(s) 2020 133 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_5 134 O. ROZENBERG laws on hunting, we will examine the electoral aspects of this mobilisation and the difficulty representatives have when acting as mediators, given the exacerbation of the conflict. Over and above this (fairly typical) responsiveness to lobbies, I argue in the last section that the European dimension of these policies helps confirm certain MPs’ roles as defenders of land and tradition. Thus, in some circumstances Europe inadvertently produces constituency members who feel themselves morally driven to defend, help, and protect the citizens of their constituencies. The remoteness of Europe’s institutions, the primacy of its norms, the confusion as to its responsibilities, the judicial nature of its obligations, and a certain tendency for national authorities to hide behind Europe all lead MPs to adopt legislation contrary to EU law. Consequently, national representatives tend to develop and promote a very specific understanding of the notion of subsidiarity.

1979–2000: The Non-transposition of the ‘Bird’ Directive On 2 April 1979, the Council adopted Directive 79/409/CEE regarding the protection of wild birds. This was principally justified on two grounds: the first environmental (in response to the declining number of birds), and the second legal, based on the idea that European legislation was needed in this domain because many of the birds are migratory and therefore part of a shared heritage for Europe and European people. The directive does not specify dates during which these migratory birds may be hunted but lays down two simple principles: the birds must not be hunted on their return journey, nor during periods of nesting, reproduction, or raising chicks. No dates are specified, first because this would be difficult given that these dates would change between Northern and Southern Europe, and second to allow the national legislator to take local traditions into account. The essence of the directive as a legal tool is precisely to define the objectives and the principles, while leaving the Member States to put in place the necessary legislative and statutory measures. The hunting of waterfowl and migratory birds only concerns around 15% of the 1.4 million hunters in France, or around 200,000 people. These hunters are concentrated in certain regions corresponding to the path of the birds, especially around the coasts, estuaries and swamplands. The regional departments of Landes, Gironde, and the Somme have 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 135

particularly large hunting communities who hunt a dozen or so species: wood pigeons, thrush, ducks, geese, etc. Traditionally, waterfowl were hunted from 14 July until 28 February the following year, whereas the open hunting season was during the month of September. Without specifying dates, the 1979 directive threatens the length of the hunting season. Yet it was largely the brainchild of the French government and was adopted under the French Presidency. Alain Lamassoure offers an explanation:

Because [the government] doesn’t dare attack the powerful hunting lobby face-on, it whispers to the European Commission that migratory birds which don’t respect national borders ought to be covered by European legislation. The Commission lends an indulgent ear. (Lamassoure 2004, p. 154)

Some years after the directive was published, environmental organisations decided to attack the government regulations authorising hunting in February. In 1992, a veritable judicial guerrilla force, led by the Association for the Protection of Wild Animals, induced the administrative tribunal of Nantes to refer several questions for preliminary rulings to the European Court of Justice. The judges in Luxembourg adopted a restrictive interpretation of the directive. The judgement of 19 January 1994 deemed that the directive laid out an obligation for Member States to guarantee the complete protection of species during their migration prior to mating. In response to this decision, the right-wing parliamentary majority at the time adopted two strategies, one European and the other national. Michel Barnier, the Environment Minister in the Balladur government, asked Jacques Delors, then President of the European Commission, to propose a review of the directive. However, the new draft was extensively amended by the European Parliament. These revisions went against the interests of hunting organisations, to the point where then-Prime Minister Alain Juppé asked the President of the Commission, Jacques Santer, to halt the procedure in 1996. On the domestic level, after the 1994 judgement, the government let the parliamentary majority adopt the private member’s bill proposed by the UDF MP Pierre Lang, which specified staggered closing dates for the end of the hunting season until 28 February. This bill came before Parliament at a time when the hunters were demonstrating their electoral influence. The party Chasse Pêche Nature et Traditions (Hunting, Fishing, Nature and Tradition Party—CPNT) presented a list of candidates at the European elections that attracted 770,000 votes—nearly 4% of votes cast. Created in 1989, in the context of tensions 136 O. ROZENBERG within the hunting federations, particularly in Picardy and Gironde, the CPNT obtained 4.13% of votes as early as the European elections of that year. At the 1992 regional elections, it won 29 seats in 13 départements. In 1994, just one year before the presidential election, the leaders of the political parties represented in the Parliament were aware that the discon- tent of the hunters might have an impact on the polls. Table 5.1 below traces the development of the CPNT during European elections from 1989 to 2004, before it allied with Philippe de Villiers in 2009. The prefectural decrees passed in application of the law of 15 July 1994 were then sued by environmental organisations for not respecting the directive. French administrative courts generally found in favour of these organisations based on the primacy of EU law, which in 1994 was more solidly established in French administrative jurisdictions than in 1979. Indeed, it was through this issue that many MPs discovered that European norms take clear precedence over French law. For several years, a situation of legal uncertainty pitted hunters wanting to practice their sport in August and February (supported by political representatives) against environmental groups (supported by the administrative tribunals). On 29 May 1997, between the two rounds of the legislative elections, Prime Minister Juppé signed a decree authorising an early start to the hunting season for waterfowl, which demonstrated the electoral weight of the pressure the hunters had put on their representatives. The victory of the left in June 1997 did not ease the situation. Dominique Voynet, leader of the Greens party, was appointed Minister for Territorial Development and Environment, responsible for the hunting portfolio. The hunters feared that the former member of the Hunting Opponents Rally might not defend their cause as effectively as had his predecessors in previous governments. Their concern was heightened by a mounting number of litigations. France was in danger of eventually being sanctioned for its refusal to apply the directive; the government received a letter of formal notice from the European Commission in November

Table 5.1 Electoral results for the CPNT in European elections

1989 1994 1999 20042

Votes 749,741 771,061 1,195,727 297,396 Total votes cast (%) 4.13 3.96 6.77 1.73 Seats won 0 0 6 out of 87 0 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 137

1997. On 15 January 1998, the Senate approved a private member’s bill from the UDF Senator Roland de Luart, then President of the Hunters Federation of Sarthe, which set out how the hunting season would be staggered. On 14 February of the same year, 130,000 to 150,000 people demonstrated in Paris to defend the right to hunt. The unprecedented size of the demonstration took many by surprise. At the regional elections in March, the CPNT won 31 seats in regional councils (including 8 in the Aquitaine region). Some representatives, such as those from the National Front, found themselves arbitrating between the left and the right. Many MPs were present at the demonstration on 14 February, including the Socialist Henri Sicre (MP from 1988 to 2007), Chair of the National Assembly study group on hunting, and the representatives of the Somme region, Gilles de Robien (UDF, 1986–2002), and Maxime Gremetz (PC, intermittent MP from 1978 to 2011). The study group on hunting constituted the nerve centre of the pro-hunting lobby in the National Assembly. With 138 members in 1997, 215 in 2002 (i.e. 37% of MPs) and 164 in 2007, this has remained one of the most popular of the 100 or so study groups in the Assembly. Between 1997 and 2002 the group met more than 40 times in the presence of 20 to 30 MPs. The meetings became weekly during the vote on hunting regulations in 2000. A certain number of parliamentarians under the 11th Parliament were themselves hunters: approximately forty MPs (including Sicre and de Robien) and 60 Senators. Some, such as Stéphane Alaize, Socialist MP from 1997 to 2002, or the UDF MP Jacques Le Nay (1993–2012), either were active or had been previously active in pro-hunting organisations before their election. The demonstration on 14 February 1998 and the annulment of Juppé’s decree by the Council of State in May, led the ‘hunter-MPs’—to use the term circulating in the corridors of the Parliament—to increase their activities. In May, during the reading of a bill regarding various economic and financial measures, certain MPs attempted to pass an amendment like the Senate bill. The government blocked the move. On 2 June, Jospin met with Voynet and Sicre in the presence of his cabinet director Olivier Schramek. The MP for the Pyrénées-Orientales département tells of his experience:

Jospin asked me, “What are we going to do?” I told him, “We have to pass this law in ’98”, because we were approaching a situation where, it was June, the hunting season for migratory birds, the birds would be hunted after 14 July in 138 O. ROZENBERG

places like the Somme. I said to the government, “If there isn’t a law, you’ll find yourselves stuck between administrative decisions and the Council of State and you’ll open the hunting season on 1 September. The hunters will go hunting with politicians—do we send out the special security forces? Still, that’s going to be hard”.

On 16 June the Socialist group of the National Assembly met behind closed doors in the presence of Daniel Vaillant, the Minister for Relations with the Parliament, François Hollande, the leader of the Socialist Party, and Voynet. The Minister for Environment had assembled a project aiming for compromise, but the Chairman of the group, Jean-Marc Ayrault, did not put it to discussion during the meeting. Instead, he supported the Senate’s position in the name of Europe, declaring: ‘I cannot let the idea of Europe be tarnished by a series of regulations that give the French people the idea that we want to take control of everything’.3 Vaillant did not intervene. The Prime Minister therefore decided to allow the submission of the private member’s bill to a vote. It was passed on 19 June, with 92 for, 20 against (including the six Greens and the 11 Socialists) and three abstaining. An exceptionally rare occurrence, the Minister was thus outvoted on the whole text (and not on an amendment) by most of the MPs of the majority (and not simply by some rebel elements). Voynet walked away politically humiliated and the European Commission reacti- vated proceedings against France. After the vote on 3 July 1998, polemic around the hunting issue increased. Environmental organisations brought about 60 proceedings before the administrative tribunals in December 1998. The Council of State found in their favour in two rulings during the following hunting season, on 3 December 1999. In addition, there were three other issues complicating the government’s task: the prohibition of nocturnal hunting by the Council of State in April 1999, the condemnation by the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) of the Verdeille law that allowed hunters access to private property in April 1999, and finally the controversy sparked by the non-respect of the Natura 2000 directive, which aimed to create nature sanctuaries. In light of the French Presidency of the Union in the second semester of 2000, France was put in a somewhat delicate position by the ECHR order and the fact that the Commission had to send several cases before the ECJ. Moreover, every year, the Commission reports reminded France that it was one of the worst-performing countries in the Union in terms of the transposition of directives. Along with the increasing 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 139 number of litigations, the success of the CPNT party, led by Jean Saint- Josse, during the European elections on 15 June 1999—winning more than a million votes—was decisive in making hunting a major and urgent issue for the government. The day following the European elections, the Prime Minister presented the Socialist MP François Patriat with the task of ‘[formulating] proposals to adapt the legislation regarding the practice and organisation of hunting’ for the Ministry for Territorial Development and Environment. After a long series of hearings, Patriat submitted his report to the government on 18 November 1999 (Patriat 2000). The text, with its 73 proposals, called for a compromise between the different groups involved. Jospin announced that a bill would be drafted on the basis of the report and submitted to Parliament before the end of the session. The bill preparation was completed rapidly in the beginning of 2000. It relegated the task of specifying the dates of the hunting season for migratory birds to a decree. The minister confirmed that, in principle, the opening of the season would be on 1 September and the closure on 31 January. There were loopholes for certain regions authorised to begin hunting from 10 August and continue until 10 February, depending on the con- servation level of the species. From that point until the definitive passing of the bill in the National Assembly on 28 June, the hunters intensified their pressure on the government, demanding specifically that the dates be inscribed in the text of the law. On 26 January, Saint-Josse was received by the right-wing President of the Republic, Jacques Chirac. The National Assembly Hunting Group organised a notable conference at the Palais- Bourbon on 31 January. In March, following the introduction of the bill in the Assembly, hunting associations organised around 60 meetings with parliamentarians to discuss possible amendments. In the sitting of the night between 29 and 30 March, Sicre’s amendment concerning the introduction of the specific dates into the law provoked a tense suspension of the sitting. The passage of the bill through the Senate demonstrated the pro- hunting stance taken by some representatives to the point of caricature. The Senator for the Manche département, Anne Heinis, rapporteur on the bill for the Economic Affairs and Planning Committee, presented her report to the general assembly of the Departmental Federation of Hunters of the Manche before any hearings had begun, as early as 10 April 2000. Her report suggested that the ‘available figures—to be interpreted with caution of course—regarding the populations of certain migratory birds 140 O. ROZENBERG demonstrate very significant growth in the past 20 years’.4 Following the total rewriting of the text by the Senate and the failure of the National Assembly and Senate joint committee, the bill returned before the Assembly on 13 June. This second reading played out identically to the first. Considering the Senate vote, the rapporteur Patriat argued for an amendment that would re-establish the original text of the bill by remov- ing the specific dates of the hunting season. A 20-minute suspension of the sitting was requested at 1:30 am to confirm the support of the group before the vote on the amendment. The sitting resumed an hour later. In the meantime, the Socialist group had met behind closed doors, in the presence of Hollande, Ayrault, Voynet, and Bettina Laville, advisor to the Prime Minister. The intended exemptions from the hunting season were negotiated species by species, the Prime Minister’s Office vouching that the commitments made by the Minister of the Environment would be respected (I46, I47). When the sitting resumed, 19 Socialist MPs nonetheless voted against Patriat’s amendment, which was passed by 149 votes to 73. Before the vote on the final reading of the bill, Jospin telephoned the leader of the Communist Party, the MP Robert Hue, because the government needed most of the Communist parliamentarians to abstain from voting.5 The bill was finally passed on 28 June at the end of a stormy parliamentary sitting in the presence of more than 500 representatives. Table 5.2 presents the distribution of votes by parliamentary group. Overall, the MPs obtained some important concessions from the government during this debate. In accordance with the directive, Article 24 of the law of 26 July 2000 states that birds may not be hunted during the various stages of reproduction and dependency. The third paragraph spec- ifies, however, that ‘exemptions may be granted’. Negotiations with the government had set the opening of the hunting season for migratory

Table 5.2 Vote on the final reading of the hunting bill on 28 June 2008 by parliamentary group

PS PC RCV RPR UDF DL NA Total

For 241 2 23 – 3 – – 269 Against 6 2 – 137 63 44 3 255 Abstaining 6 27 3 (Greens) – – – – 36 Absent 1 4 4 – 3 – 5 17

Note: NA = non-affiliated 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 141

species as between 10 August and 1 September (depending on the species) and the closure on 31 January for most birds or until 20 February for some species. Several elements contributed to the victory of the ‘hunter- MPs’: their determination and their technical knowledge of the issues, the lack of confidence of the parliamentary majority vis-à-vis a Minister for Environment from a junior party, the absence of an absolute majority without the support of the Communist MPs and the repeated electoral successes of the CPNT during intermediary elections. Even the iterative nature of the parliamentary process played a role, each stage of the legislative examination of the text allowing for further concessions.

Between Field and Europe, So Difficult a Mediation Some MPs did not simply voice the hunters’ views while ignoring the European directive. As their colleagues analysed in the previous chapter, they sought to act as intermediaries between their voters and decision- makers at the national and European level. The same strategy has been followed, using different methods, by three Socialist MPs: Henri Sicre, Vincent Peillon, and François Patriat.

Henri Sicre: Imaginary Mediation Given that he was the president of the study group on hunting, himself a hunter and well-known as a media spokesperson for hunting organisations, Sicre took a very moderate stance on the 1979 directive:

We have the council directive on birds that was set out in 1979, a French initiative, which was unanimously adopted at that time, in 1979—and which is, let’s say, quite banal and quite vague. Trendy people might say it’s “soft”. It says species have to be protected. Nobody can disagree with that approach, that’s clear. Even hunters would agree. If there’s no more fauna, there’s no more hunting.

During my interview with him, he was anxious to explain that he had done everything possible to obtain a compromise on the hunting issue. For example, even though the CPNT had demanded a renegotiation of the directive, he had never promised it to them, knowing that it would be impossible to obtain a modification of the 1979 text from the EP that would please them. He thus presented himself as a pragmatist, seeking to 142 O. ROZENBERG obtain special dispensations from the European Commission to hunt certain species outside of the overly restrictive hunting season.

The best thing to do is to adapt to the directive. So, I’ve never said: “We need a new directive in Brussels”. We have this one, let’s make do with it, it’s the lesser evil. But we must negotiate with Brussels.

Having encouraged Jospin to accept the passage of the Senate bill in June 1998, he contacted EU institutions. In Strasbourg in the summer of the same year, he met with the Chair of the Environment, Public Health, and Food Safety Committee of the European Parliament. The direction of the Commissioner for the Environment, Ritt Bjerregaard, informed him that the next step in the procedure would depend on the answer to the reasoned opinion of 5 August 1998, sent by the Commission to the French government. Sicre then met with Schramek, the director of the Office of the Prime Minister, to inform him of the importance of the procedure. However, the response sent to Brussels in October was particularly laconic, stressing that the government would not be held accountable for the law of the 3 July because it came from a private member bill. As any lawyer would know, such an argument had little chance of success. On 2 December, the Commission launched an appeal before the European Court of Justice. In January of 1999, Sicre wrote a report aiming to justify certain exemptions to the hunting season. He explained, however, that his discussion with the Commission failed for want of government support.

And one fine day, what did they tell me? They said: “Honourable Member”—in the office of Ms Bjerregaard, she was Commissioner of the Environment then. She said, “Listen, this is all fine, everything that you propose, we understand, and we are generally sympathetic to it. But look, we’re sorry, you’re an MP, it’s up to the French government to ask the Commission. The Commission can’t negotiate with a Parliament”. I know, I went to see the government again and I said, “It’s up to you to ask”. They never did.

Those on the side of the hunters all accused Voynet of passivity. A detailed analysis reveals a much more complex picture, however. The minister initially attempted to find a compromise between the different interest groups. However, after the political humiliation of the 1998 law, she let the affair deteriorate and even positioned herself as the victim of the hunters. 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 143

An atmosphere of defiance and suspicion was thus rapidly established between the parliamentary majority and the Minister for the Environment, although the responsibility for this development could not be clearly attributed to either party. The essential point is the observation that in the absence of an agreement between the majority and the Minister, an MP’s ability to act on the European scene is extremely limited. Sicre was rather enterprising in this instance: he did not hesitate to contact the EU institutions directly, and yet his strategy was destined to founder because it circumvented the French minister in charge of the portfolio. A parliamentarian on the national level cannot undertake mediation between the hunters and Brussels unless they are invited by the government to do so. Such are the rules of the political game at both the French and the European levels, of which all MPs should be aware. Access to the Prime Minister and his cabinet directory was not a mandate for negotiation. Not only had Sicre not sought consultation with Voynet, he had made it clear very early on that he saw her as an opponent, even calling publicly for the portfolio to be taken from her. This non-cooperative strategy on the part of the MP for Pyrénées-Orientales derived from several factors. Amongst them, a major issue was Sicre’s difficulty in extracting himself from the local interests associated with his constituency and more generally his region of origin. Without being the extremist defender of hunters caricatured by the press, the leader of the hunting group neither could nor would take up a position at the interface between the hunters and the environmentalists. He remained the representative of the hunters within the Assembly. The organisation of a conference on the hunting issue offered proof of this fact. Sicre adopted a previous demand of the Greens by calling for a ‘Grenelle on Hunting’ at the end of October 1998. In French political culture, the term ‘Grenelle’ suggests the complete review of the issue in the presence of all interested parties in order to find a compromise. On the 31 January 2000, the Assembly Hunting Group invited journalists to what was announced as the largest conference ever organised at the Palais- Bourbon. Six hundred fifty people came together to discuss ‘Hunting: popular tradition and preservation of the rural landscape’ and to discuss the draft legislation. The environmental associations, although invited, did not come, arguing that the organisation favoured the hunters. Thus the ‘Grenelle’ was rapidly transformed into a gallery of hunting organisations. When questioned about this conference, Sicre answered that it was not about condemning the practice of hunting but discussing how it could be modernised. This answer implied that for the member for the Pyrénées- 144 O. ROZENBERG

Orientales, a serious and efficient discussion about hunting did not require the presence of the environmentalists—or even that it justified their absence.

You organised a major conference on the hunting issue. According to the media there were no environmentalists… But they were invited and we even, I think I remember correctly, gave them the opportunity to speak. It was for the organisation of hunting, so it could be accepted and organised everywhere on the national territory, it wasn’t about debating the pros and cons of hunting. That wasn’t the objective at all. The goal wasn’t to ask, “We’re debating hunting—should it be accepted, or should it be prohibited?” It was a debate about hunting because hunting exists and it’s part of our traditions.

Vincent Peillon: Dangerous Mediation As a member for the Somme, Peillon was under considerable pressure during the whole of the 11th Parliament. The constituency into which he had been airdropped in 1997 at the age of 37 is home to several thousand waterfowl hunters. Their electoral pressure was accompanied by illegal action such as the vandalising of his surgery clinic on 31 May 1998. On 19 June he voted for the private member’s bill, although he saw it as ‘right- wing, extremist and maximalist’, because, as he says, he ‘didn’t have the choice’.6 In 2000, he decided to support the government bill but to amend it during the readings in such a way as favoured the hunters. On 23 February, the bill was presented before the Council of Ministers. On 10 March, a public meeting was held in Amiens in the presence of the majority MPs for the Somme—Vincent Peillon, Maxime Gremetz (Communist), Jacques Fleury (Socialist)—of the President of the National Union for Departmental Hunting Federations and of an MEP from CPNT. Those present examined the amendments that might be defended by the MPs. A month later, on 22 April 2000, Peillon fell into a trap laid for him in Ault, a city in his constituency, where he was inaugurating a new recycling plant. A hundred or so hunters were waiting for him, and he was forced to flee by police helicopter under a shower of projectiles. During the discussion, however, he nevertheless continued to defend the hunters. On 13 June, during the second reading of the bill, he voted against the instructions of his group on three separate occasions, and notably against the Patriat amendment, which sought to remove the mention of the dates of the hunting season from the law. He explained his strategy: ‘I knew we were 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 145 going to vote on this bill, so I wanted to raise the bar higher’. He ultimately supported the bill in its final reading on 28 June. When the ministerial decision specifying the dates of the hunting season was attacked by environmental organisations a few days after, Peillon was flabbergasted and denounced them as ‘environmental extremists’ (Constanty 2002, p. 90). Overall the Member for the Somme sees himself as having tried to bring the hunters towards a compromise rather than simply representing their positions. He is, however, forced to concede the failure of this strategy.

I tried to resolve the problem as much as I could by having a non-dogmatic position, that is to say by considering that there was no reason to make martyrs of these people and on the other hand that they also had to agree to change. There is nothing worse than being in that kind of situation, on any side. On the side of the ecologists or the government they said to me, “Stop defending hunting”. I wasn’t defending hunting, I was defending people. And second, I took the side of the hunters because I supported a government that they thought attacked them. And I also told them, I said “I’m willing to push your issues, but you also have to come forward a bit”. And that’s how you lose everything, by being reasonable.

If Peillon’s attempt at local mediation miscarried, it was not because a judicially superior European standard was imposed to regulate the practice of hunting in France. He emphasised that there was a certain amount of room for negotiation at the moment of the transposition into French law. The failure of his mediation was not due to the nature of this judicial standard but to the impossibility of bringing two sides to a compromise, an impossibility compounded by the reciprocal success of their strategies: lobbying MPs for the hunters and legal action for the environmentalists.

During the readings of the laws of transposition, you found that as a parliamentarian, you had room to manoeuvre regarding the European text? Yes, we had a certain amount of freedom regarding the European text. But it was insufficient compared to what was wanted… There was reasonable room to manoeuvre but what the hunters really wanted, at least what their representatives who were using these difficulties for political ends wanted, was something that fundamentally challenged the directive. So, we couldn’t do it.

Attempting to position himself as an intermediary rather than a simple representative was an imprudent electoral strategy for Peillon. In the first round of the legislative elections of 2002, the CPNT received its best 146 O. ROZENBERG national score in his constituency with 14.6% (6986 votes), more than half his own score (25.8%). In the second round his UMP opponent overtook him by nearly 2300 votes. Questioned on this three months later, the former member conceded bluntly that he lost the election on the hunting issue.

A question on hunting: do you think that it played a role in the fact that you weren’t re-elected? That’s what I’m told. That’s what you’re told. Yes. And do you think so? Yes.

François Patriat: Failed Mediation When he received his mission statement7 on 26 July 1999, Patriat described himself as an ‘MP on an impossible mission’; such was the seeming difficulty of reconciling hunters, environmentalists, and respect for the law. The fact that, after some months of hesitation, Jospin chose to end the crisis by conferring this mission to a Socialist backbencher shows the specific resources associated with a parliamentary mandate in the context of a conflict that was at once complex, politicised, and exacerbated. First, a backbencher can undertake more extensive consultation than a member of government. An MP has both more time and greater availability. Patriat heard from more than 200 people in less than four months— including 60 of the 100 leaders of the local hunting federations—which made them feel their concerns were heard. Moreover, the actions of a majority MP do not implicate the party in power as those of a minister do. Although Patriat gave priority to dialogue with the local organisations and hunting federations rather than the CPNT—which he saw as being uncompromising—he did meet with Saint-Josse during the summer of 1999 when the Prime Minister had refused to see him. It is worth noting that if Jospin had given the task of preparing the bill to a minister other than Voynet, he would not only have publicly discredited her, but also slighted the environmentalists, who were committed to the Minister of the Environment’s supervision of the hunting issue. In the eyes of the Prime Minister, Patriat’s profile seemed to promise that the report would be balanced, aiming both to appease the hunters 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 147 and obey the Prime Minister’s cabinet. Patriat was a member of the PS, elected for the first time in 1981; the party leaders knew him and knew that a defection or other nasty surprise was unlikely. Although he was a hunter and even ran the Hunting Association of the Côte d’Or, Patriat (a former veterinarian) was not part of the hard-line group of MPs defending the hunting associations, unlike Sicre, nor was his constituency particularly affected by the hunting of migratory birds and waterfowl. Lastly, Patriat was a Socialist MP and, given that position, well-placed to lead the parliamentary majority to a compromise. He was indeed tasked, unofficially, with gathering the MPs’ points of view and requests, to try to convince them, and to gauge beforehand what might be successfully ratified and what would not pass. Patriat received his colleagues more or less as he had with the leaders of the local hunting organisations. An assistant to the group explained that ‘Patriat cleared the way by listening to the complaints of each MP well beforehand’ (I65). Finally, the fact that the government’s ‘Mr. Hunter’ was a parliamentarian meant he could follow the bill he had prepared through the various stages of its reading in the National Assembly. As the rapporteur, he presented it before the Production and Exchanges Committee and sat in the front row of the chamber next to the Chair of the committee and the Minister of the Environment, thus visually consolidating his status as a pseudo-minister. With Voynet having lost much of her authority, Patriat’s presence during the long nights of discussion on the articles and amendments was intended to allow him to super- vise the majority and convince anyone still reluctant. As a parliamentarian Patriat therefore embodied many qualities necessary to bring his mission to fruition, which nevertheless mostly misfired. This failure was not total, however, because the government managed to pass a law on hunting and hold firm on certain points, such as the defence of the statutory delimitation of the hunting seasons, the introduction of a hunt-free day, and the modernisation of the hunting authorities. Moreover, his efforts were clearly appreciated, as he was appointed State Secretary for Small and Medium Businesses in October of 2000. Yet this did not prevent him losing in his constituency by just 1000 votes in June 2002. Above all, the ‘peaceful and responsible’ hunting that he called for so strongly in 1999 is still not on the agenda: birds are still hunted during their periods of dependency and nesting, ministerial decisions are still overturned by the Council of State, and parliamentary sessions are still dedicated to teals, coots and golden plovers. In February 2001, the hunting season was closed in the confusion surrounding the Council of State’s annulment of 148 O. ROZENBERG

Voynet’s decree. In 2003, the right-wing majority approved a new law on hunting that was extremely favourable to the interests of the hunting sphere. The failure of Patriat’s mission was the failure of a parliamentary majority that remained complacent in the face of lobbying by hunting groups. In 1999, the proposals of the Patriat report were seen as a compromise between the environmentalists and the hunters. It was clear that the chances of arriving at a compromise were diminishing during the readings of the bill in Parliament. The transformation of the initial project and the negotiation of the ministerial text under pressure from the pro-hunting MPs rendered the bill unacceptable from the perspective of the environmentalists, thus confirming their reliance on judicial strategy. The hunting associations were even more encouraged to exert pressure on the Assembly, since the MPs who were the most active on this issue contented themselves with being the hunters’ spokespeople. Just as the probability of obtaining a favourable decision on a judicial level did not encourage the environmentalists to seek a compromise, the certainty of obtaining favourable amendments discouraged the hunters from negotiating. Patriat attempted to revive the two parties’ relationship; he presented himself to the hunting leaders as a pragmatic intermediary and tried to adopt a peda- gogical approach to the constraints surrounding their activity (particularly those stemming from European legislation). This was revealed to be a fairly insubstantial discourse as soon as it was possible to obtain a more accommodating majority in Parliament. The failure of the hunting law in 2000 thus shows the government’s inability to resist pressure from its MPs, as well as the inability of the MPs to resist pressure at the local level. The government was unable to impose the necessary party discipline, not only because the minister was not well-accepted, but also because many majority MPs were extremely involved in this issue. Their mobilisation and efficiency in conveying the position of the hunters were due to the way in which they are selected: their election encourages them to defend dominant local interests rather than to be intermediaries. We will, however, attempt to demonstrate that the activism of these pro-hunting representatives cannot be reduced to the simple ‘vote-hunting’ behaviour lamented in the national media (for instance, Constanty 2002). The concept of roles will help understand how the actions of these representatives, even as they adopt an electoral rationale, cannot be bounded by it. 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 149

Constituency Members Rather than Vote Hunters The Parliament’s inability to find a compromise that would allow them to distance themselves from the hunters (Sicre), refrain from condemning the MP to defeat (Peillon), and be accepted by the different actors involved (Patriat) clearly illustrates the extent to which MPs are at the mercy of local forces. However, electoral statistics do not allow us to distinguish those MPs and senators most in favour of hunting from their colleagues. Certainly, these MPs were from constituencies where this sport is most popular. Yet, the 34 Socialist MPs identified as dissident during the readings of the hunting bill in 20008 were in electoral situations comparable to those of the other members of their group, whether in terms of their seniority as MPs, the stability of their seat or the power of the CPNT in their constituency. Half of the members of this group had been comfortably elected in 1997 (55.9% of the second-round votes on average for the 34 members), and roughly the same proportion were not specifically threatened by a vote on the hunting issue, as is shown in Table 5.3. Some of these MPs, like those in Aude, were comfortably elected by their constituency, whereas others, in Gironde or the Somme for example, were under comparatively greater threat. The danger of a protest vote from the hunters did not dictate the behaviour of all the Socialist MPs:

Table 5.3 The electoral situations of the Socialist MPs who voted against the party line on the hunting law of 26 July 2000

Marginal seats Safe or relatively safe seats

Threat Alaize (Ardèche), Brana (Gironde), Alary (Gard), Dolez (Nord), Lefait from Codognès (Pyré.-Orie), Deluga (Pas-Calais), Madrelle (Gironde), CPNT (Gironde), Fleury (Somme), Hammel Nayral (Hérault), Nayrou (Ariège), (Somme), Menut (Var), Peillon Trupin (Gironde) (Somme), Vauzelle (Bou-Rhô), Vidalies (Landes) No Bloche (Paris), Collange (Tarn), Bascou (Aude), Cabiddu (Pas- threat Fabre-Pujol (Gard), Facon (Pas-Calai), Calais), Cazeneuve (Manche), from Franqueville (Vosges), M. Grégoire Ducout (Gironde), Dupré (Aude), CPNT (Drôme), Jaulneau (Eure-Loir), Lazard C. Lacuey (Gironde), Mathus (Finistère) (Saône-Loire), Perez (Aude), Sicre (Pyré.-Orie)

Note: marginal seat = MP elected with less than 55% of votes in the second round of the legislative elections of 19,997. Threat from CPNT = the total votes of the hunter candidates (CPNT, Right to Hunt…) exceeded 4% in the first round of the legislative elections in 2002 150 O. ROZENBERG some chose to vote against the party line even though they were in safe seats, while others chose to follow it although they were more directly threatened. In 2002, hunting parties obtained more than 5% of votes cast in 37 constituencies, in 24 of which a Socialist had been elected in the 1997 legislative elections. These 24 Socialist MPs were thus the most at risk from the hunters during the 11th Parliament. Several intermediary elections enabled them to anticipate this threat. Table 5.4 shows the breakdown of these constituencies by the votes of their representatives during the readings of the hunting law. Half of the MPs most threatened by the CPNT voted against the hunting law or voluntarily abstained during one of the votes. These MPs only constituted a third of the group of rebel MPs. The other 12 MPs chose to be loyal to the government. The electoral security of their constituency is identical: the 12 non-dissident MPs were elected with 54.6% of the vote on average in 1997, and the 12 rebel MPs were elected with 54.2%. They nevertheless made different choices on the hunting question. In summation, there can be no denial of the reality of the electoral threat exerted by the hunting associations. This menace was strengthened by the determination of the hunters, its articulation by their lobbies, and the success of a minor party promoting its cause. During the 11th Parliament, the large number of elections proceeding by proportional vote also favoured the progression of the CNPT. Although the danger was real, the data we have examined enable us to see how differently the parliamentarians reacted to it. Overall, the fear of electoral defeat cannot explain the positions adopted by the majority of MPs. Whether they were electorally vulnerable on the hunting issue or safe, belonging to the majority or to the

Table 5.4 Votes on the hunting law of 26 July 2000 of Socialist MPs in constituencies where hunters obtained more than 5% in the first round of the legislative elections in 2002

Non-party Somme 3 (15.9%), Somme 4 (14.8), Gironde 5 (14.6), Hérault 5 (10.6), line (12) Gironde 11 (7.4), Somme 6 (7.1), Gironde 8 (6.9), Bouches-du-Rhône 16 (5.9), Landes 1 (5.8), Ariège 2 (5.5), Gironde 9 (5.3), Pyrénées- Orientales 2 (5.1) Party-line Ariège 1 (8.3 %), Lot 2 (7.5), Var 6 (6.6), Nord 14 (6.1), Lot-et- (12) Garonne 3 (6.2), Lot-et-Garonne 2 (5.7), Alpes-de-Haute-Provence 1 (5.6), Gers 2 (5.6), Pyrénées-Atlantiques 3 (5.5), Gironde 10 (5.4), Gers 1 (5.2), Charente 2 (5)

Note: Somme 3 = Third constituency of the Somme département 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 151 minority, the behaviour of many MPs can be best understood as playing the role of the defender of land and tradition.

Localism as Chivalrous Humanism Qualitative methodology provides the most effective way to discern the motivations for the involvement of the MPs in the hunting issue. In the following extract, recorded only three months after his defeat in the 2002 elections, the interview remained on the topic of hunting for three minutes before Peillon made it clear that he wished to change the subject.

Right, do you have other questions about hunting? Don’t you like talking about hunting? Oh, I really don’t give a damn. I’ve talked about it so much you can’t imagine. It’s frightening: for five years we only talked about that in my constituency, the media a lot too. You were harassed. Yes, I was attacked.

The former member for the Somme clearly had not entered politics out of a desire to endlessly discuss the periods of dependency of migratory birds. Sicre on the other hand does ‘give a damn’. He readily recognises that there are more important matters than hunting, but the issue interests him. Once he was on the subject, he talked about it for half an hour without prompting. Whereas Peillon rightly judged that he was not re-elected because of mobilisation by waterfowl hunters, Sicre, interviewed three months before the legislative elections in June 2002, was confident regarding the threat of a protest vote by the hunters. As the member for Pyrénées- Orientales since 1988, he was indeed solidly embedded in his constituency and was in fact re-elected in the second round with 51.6% of the vote (the CPNT candidate obtaining only 2.6% during the first round).

Was there strong pressure in your constituency? No, no more than elsewhere. [But] I wasn’t spared! I was the most attentive actor on the hunting question in this [11th] Parliament, not that I only do that. I took control of it, I liked it, and I’m a hunter, I acknowledge that. I live in the country. We’re not affected ourselves because we have no migratory birds where we are but there is still now amongst all hunters a mentality of victimisation, of besiegement, of persecution. The other day I was at a little party, at the end someone said to me “You know, Henri, the hunters are angry with you. Me like the others”. 152 O. ROZENBERG

The fact that Sicre mentioned an apparently insignificant anecdote is one clue among many others about the affective nature of his relationship with his constituency. His localism, which as we have seen restricts his capacity to play the role of mediator, is nourished on feelings and affects. Several local representatives expressed themselves similarly during the debates on hunting, denouncing the audacity of Europe in imposing a unified legislation that fails to take local cultures into account, specifically the attachment of given social groups to certain traditions. The feeling that the European legislation is unjustified because it is too rigid, too distant, too insensitive to local culture, and that Europe should concentrate on more important problems, is widely shared on the benches of the Houses. This is evident in the comments made by some MPs, in Parliament or in the press, during the readings of the law of 3 July 1998 as indicated in Insert 5.1.

Insert 5.1 Extracts of comments by MPs during the reading of the law of 3 July 1998

Philippe ‘People want to keep their traditions […] At the very moment when we’re Douste-Blazy building Europe, politicians should have a responsibility not to give the (UDF) impression that Europe prevents them from living their passions daily’.a Ladislas ‘Those who will vote for this text have been democratically elected. Poniatowski Their convictions are respectable ones. They believe that hunting is a (UDF) republican tradition of the people, which ought to be protected in our country; that the European Union can’t decide everything at the place and in the name of citizens’. Maxime ‘It is not Brussels’ decision whether or not we can hunt in the bay of the Gremetz (PC) Somme on 14 July’. Jean Glavany ‘The environmentalists keep telling us that we’re voting for this bill (PS) under pressure from our electors. But the role of a parliamentarian is not to go against them! The heartland of France has the feeling that the right to hunt is an established freedom’.b Gilles de ‘For Europe to be loved, we have to talk about the big problems that Robien (UDF) surround it, not regional practices’.c Christian Jacob ‘Hunting is an ancestral practice, linked to history. I can’t see why it (RPR) must be controlled by European directives. There are already enough regulations like that in France’d aThese comments were made during the sitting of the National Assembly on 18 June 1998, as were those by Poniatowski and Gremetz bLe Monde, 19 June 1998 cLe Point, 27 June 1998 dLe Parisien, 16 February 1998 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 153

The parliamentarians mobilised by the hunting question had the defence of land and tradition at the heart of their concerns. This local perspective was combined with a desire to protect the ordinary people of their constituencies. These MPs believe that the hunters, people they know and socialise with in some cases, are neither listened to nor respected at the European level. Charles de Courson, MP since 1993, puts it thus: ‘[T]he ECJ has an interpretation of the law that is too pro-environmentalist: hunters are just seen as disturbing nature’. Thus these local MPs consider that, confronted with the indifference of European governance, their role is to repair the injustices against the hunters and defend them against a series of actors perceived as hostile: a militant minister, Parisian media, the leadership of the parties and their party lines, European public servants suspected of being in the pocket of the environmentalists, and finally European and national judges considered incapable of taking into account the imperatives of a peaceful society. They feel a genuine obligation to defend the hunters. This impression explains several results: their inability to consider both the need to protect endangered species and to respect the primacy of European law, their lack of discipline, and their inability to act as intermediaries. These tendencies are reinforced by the fact that not only hunters, but also some farmers and the wider rural population, are expressing their feelings of being rejected by the rest of society. Christophe Traïni has analysed the multiple sources of their perceptions of the ‘disturbing evolutions of an increasingly hostile world’ (Traïni 2003, chapter 2). The cultural rejection of a practice that consists of killing animals, the fear of rural areas’ decline, and the socially marginal existences of some hunters are the key elements of this crisis. Although the idea that electors require proximity to their constituents should not be taken for granted, it is nevertheless true that the feeling of incomprehension or even victimisation expressed by the hunters provides fertile ground for any potential righter of wrongs. Finally, the MPs’ determination may have been strengthened by their feelings of being misunderstood, sometimes even ridiculed. Thus, the expression ‘a fight for honour’, used by Sicre to justify the tabling of an amendment to the dates of the hunting period during the first reading of the bill of 2000, should be taken literally. There is something quixotic in the defence of traditions and local cultural practices. Europe did not create the attachment of the role of the defender of land and tradition to that of the constituency member, but it did strengthen it. Two elements appear significant in this respect. First, the Europeanisation of the legislative norm increases the impression that the latter is remote 154 O. ROZENBERG and therefore maladapted. The intervention of institutions that are removed, unfamiliar and not elected—the Commission and the European courts—confirms the parliamentarians in their belief that their election is the foundation of the relevance and necessity of their engagement. The primacy of European law and the prospect of the legal condemnation of the State were regularly evoked by the government during the parliamentary debate. However, this in fact had a counter-productive effect on the constituency members because it demonstrated the coercive and threatening nature of a uniform regulation imposed from above. Europe as a trans- national political system producing public policies thus became the symbol of remote policies, allowing certain national parliamentarians to flaunt their proximity to local people by way of contrast. However—and this is the second point—it is exactly this proximity that is challenged today. Surveys reflect the unpopularity of MPs, Senators receive bad press, the suspicion of corruption persists in public opinion, and the proportion of votes for parties not represented in the Parliament grows. The CPNT, born from the rejection of the pro-hunting associations’ leaders, was able to contest the traditional political parties’ claim to represent hunters and even rural people in general. Faced with these threats, the proximity of parliamentarians—which is ‘more frequently invoked by the MPs as it appears to erode’ in the words of Remi Lefebvre (2005, p. 106)—is increasingly constructed in opposition to the EU. A caricatured image of Europe is clearly to the advantage of MPs and Senators, contributing to the dramatisation of their ties to the people. In fighting each amendment, in making each reading of the bill a spectacle with sessions suspended and meetings behind closed doors, in sitting all night in the chamber under the watchful eye of the leaders of the hunting associations, the hunter- MPs demonstrated their devotion to the cause. Adopting the role of the defender of land and tradition in the face of European threats constitutes a central mechanism in a global process of legitimisation centred on the accentuation of MP’s proximity to his or her electors. Beyond the—clearly essential—imperative of re-election, this process is the key to interpreting the mobilisation of national MPs not only on the hunting issue, but also on the ‘habitats’ directive of 1992, the regional implantation of public services, and the level of the VAT in res- taurants, lowered in 2009 after years of bargaining. Attempting to understand the defenders of land and tradition only through the vote-seeking paradigm would mean neglecting on the global and interpretative aspect of this role and the MPs’ psychological and emotional investment in it. 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 155

Many MPs cultivate their local accents, play on their regional eccentrici- ties, and punctuate their speeches with local vocabulary—even when they are in Paris, far from their electors and freed from the imperative to resem- ble them. In behaving like this, they are not simply aiming to maintain their local electability, but also to fulfil a mission of protecting the ‘powerless’ against the ‘powerful’, the latter incarnated somewhat confusedly by Europe.

An Ambiguous Appeal to Subsidiarity The criticism levelled at Europe’s propensity to regulate to the last detail (and in great detail) surpasses question of hunting. There is massive contestation from many MPs from all political persuasions, as shown in the following interview extracts:

Jean-Pierre Brard: The CAP, yes that does have to be treated at the European level because it’s to do with the general interest. The environment is also the general interest. But not the quality of camembert, no. That’s the national interest and Europe has nothing to do with it! Nicole Catala: I’ve never understood why, in order to attain the objectives of the European Union, it is necessary that all the headlights on the cars be an identical colour. That escapes me. Gérard Charasse: We need a simpler and less nit-picking vision of the work of European leaders. That Europe is ultimately concerned with regulating the size of eggs and things like that, that seems to me tremendously stupid. Jean François-Poncet: Europe has been too concerned with details. The EU protects European mink in Aquitaine but does nothing about the CFSP. That’s the shift that’s happened since the failure of the EDC [European Defence Community]. Elisabeth Guigou: That’s linked to what is obviously a major failing of the European construction process: that it’s easy to get bogged down in the details which ruin people’s lives and lose sight of the big questions. 156 O. ROZENBERG

Alain Marleix: I’m shocked, shocked that the Commission harasses people over the length of sausages and on the other hand doesn’t deal with marine traffic control and hasn’t drawn up the texts to stop those dirty ships that have been polluting the European coastline for decades. You get the impression that they don’t deal with the essential, but they do deal with the superficial.

If the MPs opposed to European treaties are quick to denounce Europe’s tendency to regulate everyday life, we can see from these extracts that this criticism is also expressed by ‘Maastrichtiens’ and ‘oui-ouistes’, to use the rather pejorative terms coined to describe the supporters of the treaties during the two referendum campaigns of 1992 and 2005. Beyond the criticism, these comments reflect a certain incomprehension on the part of MPs of the EU’s development. Some attribute it to the attitude of the founding fathers in the 1950s, who supported an incremental strategy, others to the return to European integration via the common market agenda in the 1980s. Still others blame the EU institutions’ insatiable hunger for power. Overall, however, backbenchers remain quite perplexed. This can be seen in the following admission by Charasse, a centre-left MP for Allier since 1997 who effectively includes himself among ‘the people’ about whom he speaks:

People don’t understand why Europe dared to interfere in the quality of cheese, or in hunting. They don’t understand. And even if we [explain them]… and that, I don’t feel I have the ability to explain, because I don’t believe it myself.

This perplexity feeds the idea that the jurisdiction of the EU institutions is increasingly expanding, subtly and unrelentingly. Not only do European norms seemingly apply to areas of secondary importance and apply too specifically, but those regulating citizens’ daily lives are also increasingly numerous in regulating citizens’ daily lives. To the fear of a homogenisation from above, disrespectful of the diversity of local situations, is added the feeling—sometimes explicit and sometimes vague— that European institutions have the institutional and judicial means to satisfy their expansionist tendencies. The sovereigntists are the first to denounce this trend—Catala refers to the ‘expanding domain’—but once again the criticism is directed beyond their ranks, as can be seen in this 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 157 comment by the MP Jean-Claude Daniel who was affiliated with the Socialist group (1997–2002):

You get the impression that anytime it wanted, the EU could propose directives on any subject and in their transposition, they would be imposed on everyone. And that is perhaps also an anomaly.

In EU norms and policies’ local interference, the Europe perceived by MPs drifts the furthest away from the Europe of which they had dreamt. The down-to-earth nature of the examples used to denounce this tendency indicates that both houses are mostly composed of constituency members rather than parliamentarians involved in other roles, a makeup that strengthens the tide of criticism. The local notable—the ‘mayor-MP’ (député-maire)—first sees Europe from the position of his or her fiefdom as EU policy is implemented, which contributes to the interpretation of that policy as imposed, restrictive norms that deny the MP any say. When the MPs say that the ‘people’ are poisoned daily by EU regulations, they speak first and foremost of themselves as mayors and presidents ofdéparte- ments or regions. Faced with this reality, they unanimously call for a strict distribution of authority operating according to the principle of subsidiarity. Rare are the interviews that do not spontaneously evoke this necessity. This demand has been heard since the Constitutional Treaty, and the Lisbon Treaty later incorporated a role for national MPs in monitoring compliance with the principle of subsidiarity. The mechanism set out in the 2002/2003 Convention on the future of Europe is a so-called early warning system, which, as indicated in Chap. 2, means parliamentarians may oblige the Commission to justify its propositions regarding the principle of subsidiarity. The unanimity of French national parliamentarians in demanding a clear distribution of authority and the application of the principle of subsidiarity suggests several ambiguities. First, this claim is shared by MPs who have radically different visions of Europe. The diagnoses of Europe’s ills differ from the sovereigntist Catala to the federalist Guigou, from the Communist Brard to the centrist Albertini, from the Socialist Bockel to the Gaullist Marleix. Yet they all agree on the same remedy. Thus Albertini, who defended the idea of a ‘users’ guide, a kind of distribution of roles’, argued that diplomacy, defence, justice, the control of migration flows, and the management of the national territory ought to be included in the competences shared between the EU and its members, whereas Catala 158 O. ROZENBERG argued for the strict separation of these competences in order to fight against the ‘steamrolling of all national legislation, even when that legislation corresponds to the identity of the people, to their tradition and their history’. Secondly, the definition of the concept of subsidiarity offered by the parliamentarians does not align with the treaties’ affirmation that:

Under the principle of subsidiarity, in areas which do not fall within its exclusive competence, the Union shall act only if and insofar as the objectives of the proposed action cannot be sufficiently achieved by the Member States, either at central level or at regional and local level, but can rather, by reason of the scale or effects of the proposed action, be better achieved at Union level. (Article 5, Treaty on European Union)

The oversight of subsidiarity therefore amounts to determining whether the efficiency of the intervention of EU institutions is such that it justifies their remoteness. The concept is essentially functionalist: it justifies the contravention of the democratic principle of proximity, if such is necessary to attain the ‘objectives of the proposed action’ thanks to, for example, economies of scale. Despite calls to control subsidiarity, this rationale is neither well understood nor well accepted by many parliamentarians. Functionalists ‘from above’ in the form of subsidiarity, which argues that remoteness is sometimes a tool for efficiency, is opposed to functionalists ‘from below,’ MPs or senators who argue that the local authority is always more competent in local matters. Of the notion of subsidiarity, constituency members tend to retain only the goal, which is mentioned in the introduction to the protocol on the application of the principles of subsidiarity and proportionality outlined in the Lisbon Treaty ‘to ensure that decisions are taken as closely as possible to the citizens of the Union’. Although the concept aims to legitimise the ability to contravene this objective, many MPs refer to the notion of subsidiarity to affirm that although European problems can be resolved at the European level, local problems should always be resolved at the local level. The overwhelming presence of constituency members in the French Parliament supports the spread of this localist interpretation of subsidiarity. The demand by MPs for a clear definition of ‘who does what’ at the European level results in management difficulties between local governments and the State, rather than in relation with an EU institution—the diagnosis of local problems being to a certain extent transferred to the European level. Although they may take up the occasional sovereigntist 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 159 refrain, or even blithely vote for laws that explicitly contravene European directives, the constituency members are nevertheless not opposed to European integration in principle. They express a specific vision of Europe, based on a clear distribution of competences that leaves the management of ‘big’ problems to the European authorities—amongst which they rightly include their national government—and the management of local question to local actors, amongst whom they count themselves. The question of democratic legitimacy often cloaks the discourse of MPs and sharp- ens the denunciation of the European Commission’s technocracy, but it is not central and is difficult to distinguish from a rationale of functional legitimacy based on proximity. Thus Aymeri de Montesquiou, Senator for Gers from 1998 to 2015 (centre right), does not specifically claim the management of the hunting issue as a national parliamentarian, judging it the legitimate purview of the hunting associations above all:

The principle of subsidiarity has to be applied. The hunters are the best adapted to manage the game, because they know it. Europe should keep out of it, it’s the hunters’ responsibility to deal with this heritage.

Indiscriminate support for the value of the local occasionally leads to contradictions, to the extent that the ‘big’ problems that are Europe’s supposed domain often have concrete local repercussions, precisely because local issues are important. The Senator for Gers argued that Europe should be concerned with the environment but should not interfere with the question of game hunting. Another example is that of Bernard Derosier, Socialist MP from 1978 to 2012, who lamented that European institutions’ lack of activity in the area of social protection, which he saw as important. Yet, after expressing his desire for ‘the stan- dardisation of social policy’, the MP for the Nord criticised Europe’s tendency to regulate everything. To overcome the contradiction, he suggested establishing a political system in which European institutions would content themselves with specifying objectives and leave the Member States to carry them out. The MP illustrated his argument with the case of the hunting issue, overlooking the fact that neither the 1979 directive nor the Commission and ECJ have since specified the dates of the hunting period. The suggested mechanism is precisely the one that was proposed, and which was brought down by the French MPs’ inability to resist pressure from hunters. Derosier explained in 2001: 160 O. ROZENBERG

Political Europe also presupposes the idea of specifying the areas of competence, both of Europe and nation States. This is the case today but with a certain degree of uncertainty which brings Europe to intervene in areas where it could content itself to specify the main agenda, the main axis. And then send it to national parliaments for the major orientations to be adapted in their legislation. If we say—I don’t know—that the European directive is “be careful, you have to protect the migratory birds full stop”—fine. But from there we could have legislation on hunting that is national, and that isn’t imposed on us by a European directive like it is at the moment.

Many of the colleagues of the member for Nord and the Senator for Gers thus developed a relatively critical discourse regarding European construction that favoured, in fine, the creation of a legal instrument quite close to the directive. Others, like Etienne Pinte, Gaullist MP from 1988 to 2012, would have liked to see ‘every directive [be] accompanied and not appear coercive or complicate the issue, but also bring something extra to those who are applying them’. In their extreme, the exaltation of proximity and the refusal of coercion undermine the foundations of European construction. There is a desire for a Europe that is useful but not restrictive, that would specify a shared framework whilst respecting difference, that would only concern itself with ‘important’ problems and not local questions—i.e. the problems that are important in the eyes of the constituency members. These contradictions reflect the profound perplexity felt by many MPs regarding the lack of clear distribution of authority in a rapidly changing system of governance, both on the European level and on the level of local governments.

* * *

While undertaking ethnographic fieldwork in the area around the wet- lands of the Grande Brière Mottière near Saint-Nazaire, Julian Mischi (2007) concluded that the hunters’ contestation of European norms constituted a point of entry or return to politics for a socially fragile group often marginalised in representative democracy. Similarly, the hunting issue was an opportunity for some French parliamentarians to break out of the subsidiary position into which the Fifth Republic and European integration seemed to have confined them. In fact, the hunting issue is just one example among others of massive MPs’ mobilisation when an EU norm provokes local, organised, and lasting contestation. In this specific 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 161 instance, the action of the parliamentarians in EU matters, normally reduced to a few experts, tended to spill over into all available institutional resources: private member’s bills, amendment battles, mobilisation of study groups, and so on. Moreover, the impossibility of transposing the 1979 directive on the protection of migratory birds suggests that despite the primacy of European law, such engagement is far from futile. Indeed, the temporality of national and EU court decisions, the reintroduction by parliamentarians of norms that are incompatible with the directive every two to three years, and the parliamentarians’ pragmatism—which sometimes reflects a certain relativist understanding of legality—show that parliamentary assemblies have a real power of obstruction. This confirms the conclusions of legislative studies: Parliament’s power is the result of both quantitative (the number of MPs mobilised) and qualitative (their level of expertise) aspects. It has the power approval, but can also of delay the legislative process. Many of the MPs that are mobilised in this way play the role of the defender of land and tradition, an old category attached to the family of constituency members alongside that of the local promoter and the welfare officers. The notion of role provides an interpretation of a full range of parliamentary mobilisation distinct from vote-seeking behaviour. Certain MPs or Senators may oppose a European directive with all their might because, for them, Europe symbolises a lack of respect for local cultures, ordinary people, and their traditions. The European construction process therefore awakens the constituency members’ vocation as the protector and the righter of wrongs. The defence of land and tradition thus exceeds a simple calculation or stance; it is incarnated in a coherent ensemble of behavioural norms and values rooted in tradition, good sense, and devotion. If Brussels is ultimately seen as the incarnation of an attack against local culture, it is because the EU appears as a remote source of regulations, and thus illegitimate on a local level. More fundamentally, the activism of the defenders of land and tradition is also guided by the belief that their utility and their legitimacy as political representatives is at stake. In defending the hunters, the MPs are also defending their disputed vocation in speaking for the social groups they believe they represent. This nuance of the vote-seeking hypothesis, however, ought not to mask that the defenders of land and tradition have thrice compounded the impasse on European matters. First, they have blocked public action, as 162 O. ROZENBERG demonstrated by the legal insecurity and the judicialisation of the dates of the hunting period. Fundamentally, the policy neither fully protects the migratory species nor allows for undisturbed hunts. Nearly 15 years after the hunting law of 2003, voted in by the right-wing majority after it came back to power, the issue of complying with the directive is still raised. Questioned on the floor regarding the hunting of grey geese during the session of 25 January 2017, the Minister for Environment Ségolène Royal answered:

As it is, I would not advise you to ask me to issue a new decree: as there aren’t legal bases for it, the Council of State would invalidate it immediately. However, […] I will reiterate the common-sense system that I found last year and the year before: there will be no fines until 10 February.9

In other words, the government, under the pressure of Parliament, is openly committing to refuse to cope with legislation and consequently renouncing statutory instruments. The second impasse regards the image of the EU. French MPs and Senators have done much to foster the idea of a remote, omnipotent Europe, driven by a desire for uniformity. This criticism of Brussels contributed to the estrangement between the French people and Europe in the 1990s. The paradox regarding the hunting issue stemmed from the fact that the directive as a legal tool, although intended to guarantee a certain amount of leeway to the national legislator, produced the inverse effect in the absence of a compromise between hunters and environmentalists. The third and final impasse relates to the role of national parliamentarians. Representatives of the hunting lobby who became lobbyists in the Houses, the MPs showed themselves incapable of proposing their own competitive general alternatives in response to this issue. In the words of Marc Abélès, ‘[T]he problem will only be framed in the (conflicting) terms proposed by the lobbies’ (Abélès 2001, p. 326). Furthermore, the firm decision of the MPs to side with the hunters has tended to discredit politics by making it appear deceptive in its language, biased in its motives and partial in its objectives—this critique represents a classic, and probably futile, motif in normative analysis of parliamentary representation (Leca 2001, p. 181). Resistance to Europe in the name of localism, largely driven by feelings of honour, justice, and devotion to a group under threat, is overwhelmingly perceived through the prism of patronage. 5 THE DEFENDER OF LAND AND TRADITION: THE ACTIVISM… 163

Anti-parliamentarian movements such as the CPNT feed on the negative image of notables while accentuating their own electoral dependency. Finally, and above all, the extremism of the defenders of land and tradition signalled defeat for the civilising mission of the parliamentary order. The marginalisation of national parliaments within the EU is not so much a result of the primacy of European law as of the inability of national MPs to appease the social unrest provoked by that law. The Europeanisation of public action, and the resulting contrasting local focus of MPs, jam the parliamentary mechanism that ought to elucidate and channel conflict. By brandishing proximity in opposition to Brussels, MPs and Senators risk endangering the distance between representatives and electors that is pre- supposed by the very notion of parliamentary government.10 Strategies basing the legitimacy of representatives on likeness, proximity, and localism indirectly but inescapably call into question the legitimacy of parliamentary representation itself.

Notes 1. For Searing, the redress of grievances constitutes the central motivation for local representatives (1994, p. 122 and all of Chap. 4). 2. The voting system for European elections was modified in 2004. France was divided into eight large regions, and the CPNT only ran candidates in five of them. 3. According to the report in Libération, 17 June 1998. 4. Senate Report no. 335, for the Committee of Economic Affairs and Planning on the bill pertaining to hunting, by Anne Heinis, 11 May 2000, pp. 11–12. 5. Le Monde, 28 June 2000. 6. Libération, 16 June 1998. 7. A temporary mission is accorded by a government member to an MP in order to investigate a given issue. It consists of hearing interested parties and drafting a public report. An MP cannot fill this role for more than six months. 8. They voluntarily abstained or voted differently from the group during at least some of the 16 registered votes organised through the examination of the law of 26 July 2000. 9. JORF, AN, CR, session of 25 January 2017, p. 457. 10. This is related to the ‘partial independence of representatives’ identified as one of the four principles of representative government by Bernard Manin (1997). 164 O. ROZENBERG

References Abélès, M. (2001). Un ethnologue à l’Assemblée. Paris: Odile Jacob. Constanty, H. (2002). Le Lobby de la gâchette. Paris: Seuil. Lamassoure, A. (2004). Histoire Secrète de la Convention Européenne (p. 193). Paris: Albin Michel. Leca, J. (2001). Pour(quoi) la philosophie politique? Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Lefebvre, R. (2005). La proximité à distance. In C. Le Bart & R. Lefebvre (Eds.), La proximité en politique. Usages, rhétoriques, pratiques (pp. 103–127). Rennes: Presses Universitaires de Rennes. Manin, B. (1997). The Principles of Representative Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mischi, J. (2007). L’impact communautaire sur la politisation des classes populai- res en milieu rural. Le cas des chasseurs de gibier d’eau. In O. Baisnée & R. Pasquier (Eds.), L’Europe telle qu’elle se fait: européanisation et sociétés politiques nationales (pp. 145–165). Paris: Éditions du CNRS. Patriat, F. (2000). Propositions pour une chasse responsable et apaisée. Paris: La Documentation française. Searing, D. (1994). Westminster’s World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Traïni, C. (2003). Les braconniers de la République. Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. CHAPTER 6

The Sovereigntist: An Ephemeral Role

Since the Maastricht Treaty, certain opponents to the European treaties on the left and right have centred their criticisms on the need to defend national sovereignty. Unlike most of their colleagues, who pay little heed to European affairs, these MPs, originating from the conservative right- wing, Gaullism, and socialism, have participated extensively in debates and other work within the National Assembly and Senate on the subject. They have attempted to promote an abstract concept, the defence of sovereignty, drawing their inspiration from existing ideologies such as Gaullism, traditionalist and reactionary conservatism, republicanism, and nationalism. The opposition of these MPs to the construction of Europe in its current form has led to the conception and progressive consolidation of an original sub-type of ideologist: the sovereigntist.1 The parliamentary role of ideologist has already been studied by Searing for the British House of Commons (1994, pp. 41–47). Ideologists are parliamentarians who do not simply defend their ideas, but assume a role totally dedicated to achieving one overriding aim: the triumph of their ideology. They tend to believe that the stuff of politics is Truth and that their mission is to defend the Good. This chapter argues that the very intensity of sovereigntist activity that started in the National Assembly from 1992 and continued for about a decade originated in the presentation and defence of Europe in French public debate. The European narrative nurtures the primarily psychological aspirations of the sovereigntist ideologists. The chapter will begin by discussing how ‘unanimist’ rhetoric—built on the drive for consensus—is

© The Author(s) 2020 165 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_6 166 O. ROZENBERG used to counter the intrinsically destabilising, multi-dimensional nature of the building of Europe. The opposition to this narrative has led MPs critical of European integration to define and assume a new role as sovereigntists. In addition, the parliamentary setting of the debate facilitated the framing of national sovereignty. However, the process of mobilising sovereigntists has started to spawn its own contradictions. The second section of the chapter will show how the role of ideologist indeed lent itself to progressive radicalisation, which contributed to a progressive decline. To date (2019), sovereigntists have failed to impact the governing parties’ agenda. A detailed study of the sovereigntist MPs and their influence on the political system, as well as European debate, will be presented, based on parliamentary ratifications of European Treaties since the Single Act and on related constitutional revisions.

The Sovereigntists: Sworn Enemies of Unanimism The French term ‘souverainisme’ was borrowed from Quebec’s political emancipation movement against Canadian tutelage, spearheaded since the late 1960s by the Parti Québécois. When exactly the term was first coined by the media remains undetermined,2 but the full force of independentist sovereigntism was felt in France during the 1992 referendum campaign. On the right, the combat was led by a team of three MPs and former members of the 1986 Chirac government: Senator Charles Pasqua (first elected in 1977), a long-standing Gaullist political leader; RPR MP Philippe Séguin (first elected in 1978), and a young UDF MP named Philippe de Villiers (first elected in 1987). While Jacques Chirac, President of the RPR, voiced support for the Maastricht Treaty, Pasqua and Séguin’s campaign gained wide-sweeping support among the Gaullist electorate. On the left, protests in the name of national independence were more marginal, but still existent. A time-honoured PS leader and former minister, Jean-Pierre Chevènement voiced his opposition to the treaty in the name of French Republican values. The sovereigntist movement therefore rallied members from both left and right, although allegiance to it was more widely accepted, even flaunted, on the right than on the left. Although sovereigntism can scarcely be considered a fully-fledged ideology like Marxism or liberalism, it has thrived thanks to other established ideologies, such as nationalism, Gaullism, traditionalism and republicanism. These ideological currents correspond to distinct traditions deeply rooted in French political culture. However, from Maastricht on, the 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 167 desire to defend national, even popular, sovereignty has rallied all those from among the governing parties who oppose the building of Europe, distinguishing them from other treaty opponents like the extreme right, the Communist party, and the extreme left. On both sides of the political spectrum, sovereigntism has led to major political scissions. Chevènement founded the Movement of Citizens (MDC) and left the PS in 1993. De Villiers left the UDF and created the Movement for France (MPF) in 1994. Pasqua left the RPR in 1999 and, on 21 November of that year, set up the Rally for France (RPF) with de Villiers, adopting the acronym of the Gaullist movement born in the early days of the Fourth Republic. The alliance between the traditionalist and Gaullist right wing was short-lived: in June/July 2000, de Villiers and his acolytes left the RPF and returned to the MPF. The political groups originating from the scission enjoyed mixed electoral fortunes. In the 1994 European election, the ‘Majority for the Other Europe’ list led by de Villiers came in third, with some 2.4 million votes (12.3% of the total) and 13 MEPs. In 1999, during the next renewal of the European Parliament, the ‘Rally for France and Independence of Europe’ list, led jointly by Pasqua and de Villiers, obtained 13.1%, and 13 MEPs. More significantly, the Sovereigntists came out ahead of the two other parliamentary right- wing lists: the RPR list led by Nicolas Sarkozy after Séguin’s withdrawal, and the UDF list under François Bayrou. While falling short of their European elections figures, the sovereigntists did not go unnoticed in the presidential elections, in traditionalist and then republican guise: de Villiers received 1.4 million votes (4.7% of the total) in 1995. In 2002, after some hard ‘neither right nor left’ campaigning, Chevènement won 1.5 million votes or 5.3% of the total.

The Sovereigntist, a Parliamentary Role National Assembly and Senate activities and debates allowed the sovereigntists to make their voices heard, explain their opinions, and establish common ground. Sovereigntist MPs occupied much of the political stage, since treaty supporters barely rallied to defend their own cause during treaty ratification debates. Moreover, parliamentary procedures offered manifold opportunities to ensure that the public and/or fellow MPs realised the threats posed by the building of Europe. The whole range of procedural motions, the defence of which were not limited in duration during the 1990s, was deployed. The defence of a special motion by 168 O. ROZENBERG

Séguin in 1992 may be regarded as the birth of parliamentary sovereigntism. De Villiers, MP from 1987 to 1994 then from 1997 to 2004, also distinguished himself with frequent, trenchant, lengthy performances. The sovereigntists also employed the ‘cluster fire’ technique during debate on the Amsterdam Treaty when seven RPR MPs opposed to the treaty took to the floor in succession. Finally, parliamentary debate allowed the sovereigntists to demonstrate their common ground despite the right-left divide. Analysis of applause and interruptions reveals that European treaty opponents mutually mutual support one another, the better to underscore the relevance of their message and, doubtless, to diminish a certain sense of political isolation. For example, during parliamentary ratification of the Amsterdam Treaty in 1999, Georges Sarre, right-hand man of Chevènement and former member of Socialist governments during Mitterrand’s second term (1988–1993), received applause from ‘several benches’ of RPR MPs at the end of his speech.3 The sovereigntists’ heavy involvement in European debate is due to the European question’s triggering of these ideologists’ deep-rooted aspirations. There have traditionally been very few MPs that can be labelled as ideologists in the French Parliament. These people entered politics to see the triumph of their own ideas, which are articulated around a coherent, all-encompassing vision of the world. Searing identifies a very limited number of MPs who aim to promote abstract political principles. These ideologists are often solitary souls, driven by a combination of moral integrity and potentially prophetic grandiloquence. They are quick to refuse compromise and political manoeuvring and brandish their own moral rectitude as exemplary. They are buoyed by the certainty that not only are they bearers of the Truth, but also that they must make the Truth known, whatever the effect and cost of its revelation on their career. These ideologists are goaded on by the emotional incentive of moral obligation, as identified by Payne and his colleagues (1986, pp. 103–127), or even, for the most ardent among them, by a missionary incentive. Olivier Woshinsky’s study (1973) of French MPs in the early 1970s led him to identify a marked propensity among certain Communist and Gaullist MPs to consider themselves to be entrusted with a mission, a transcendental cause giving meaning to their lives. A handful of ideologues within the National Assembly were driven to mobilise in the opposition to unanimist pro-EU rhetoric. The ‘red flag’ that so quickly aroused sovereigntist ire was directed not so much against Europe itself as against the discourse used to justify Europe in French 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 169 public debate. This discourse can be qualified as unanimist: it posits that, since Europe is a common good, peace and prosperity in Europe are two desirable ends, and France’s diplomatic isolation should be avoided. As a consequence, every reasonable politician should support the European treaties.4 The underlying implication of such a framing that opponents to the treaties resist the very idea of European integration and therefore are unreasonable. Attempts made by government and pro-European MPs to legitimise EU norms in a unanimist vein have reinforced the ideologists’ sense of facing a conspiracy. The ideologist is incensed in the face of unanimist logic. The unusual consensus between majority and opposition leaders on European questions has merely confirmed ideologists in their messianic, and sometimes misanthropic, inclination to adopt the role of lone righter of wrongs. Ideologists react, equally, to the insinuations of blame inherent in unanimist logic. The charge of Euroscepticism brought by zealous treaty supporters has encouraged their feelings of victimisation. Accusations of triggering a European crisis, or of tarnishing France’s honour, have been perceived as a reprehensible form of blackmail aimed at ensuring the victory of a reprobate, even dangerous policy. Lastly, the apathy of MPs towards parliamentary debate on European affairs also appears extremely suspect in the eyes of the ideologists. For them, it can easily be interpreted as an attempt to stifle the voice of the people’s elected representatives that must be denounced. In his autobiography, Séguin reduced his opposition to European treaties to a simple question of method. He wrote:

I myself am in favour of the building of Europe. I believe it is absolutely necessary. […] What shocks me however, and always has, is that these major changes and historic developments are prepared and sanctioned, carved into the stone of European law, without our being given sufficient prior warning, or even being informed. This all looks very underhanded to me. (Séguin 2003, p. 376)5

One of the sovereigntists’ central motivations is to bring to light what they believe to be underhanded. The unanimism of ‘well-meaning’ (Chevènement 1999) Europeanists must be rent asunder and the ‘politically correct’ (de Villiers 1996a) defeated by denouncing the ‘machina- tions’ (de Villiers 1996b) woven by the ‘politics of lies’ (Garraud 2005), to adapt titles of some works by movement leaders. For instance, Guillet expressed regret that examination of the European treaties always produced 170 O. ROZENBERG

‘debates which are cut short by common consensus’. His criticism was mainly levelled at the spill-over aspect of European integration: according to him, Europe was progressing in almost clandestine fashion, ‘covertly’, its objectives never clearly avowed. At the parliamentary level, this ongoing ratch- eting supposedly operates via the government’s insistence on the primacy of treaties and, above all, the accompanying political, legal, and even moral obligation to accept all norms designed to ensure that the treaties are applied. As an example, Guillet cited the vote on a bill introduced by the Balladur government concerning the independence of the Banque de France in 1993.6 He did not necessarily contest the need for reform, but was indignant that the overriding necessity to implement the Maastricht Treaty seemingly prevented any in-depth debate:

The government wanted no discussion. The independence of the Banque de France was just not up for discussion. I’m not saying that was necessarily a bad thing in itself. […] So, from the moment we were told, “It’s simply the application of a treaty which we had voted for”, we were obliged to do it.

Sovereigntist MPs feel certain that both Europe and France are doomed and that they are ‘forced’ to accept this change passively. Defending their ideas, they perceive themselves as resistants, their ‘no’ stance redolent with Gaullist imagery. During the 1990s and the first half of the 2000s, this sense of revolt often took the guise of extravagant and unbridled activism, with sovereigntist MPs drafting private member bills, addressing written and oral questions to the government, voicing their opinions in the press, and organising conferences. Some, like MPs Catala (from 1988 to 2002), Guillaume (1993–2007), Myard (1993–2017), and Dupont-Aignan (since 1997), were members of the Delegation for the EU. Although the sovereigntists were in the minority there, they counted among its most diligent and senior members. However, only in parliamentary debates have the sovereigntists truly flourished: the solemnity of the setting provides a fitting backdrop to the gravity of their message. Here they can not only address the government, their colleagues, and their virtual public directly, but they can also be assured of their words’ posterity in the Journal Officiel. While MPs behaving as specialists prefer parliamentary reports, sovereigntist MPs revel in public speaking, delighting in carefully chosen or rarely used words and pithy turns of phrase. Moreover, their dashing use of the French language is inseparable from the message they uphold, their participation in Parliament often constituting an eloquent defence and illustration of the virtues of the nation’s tongue. 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 171

The term ‘sovereigntist’ is not just a convenient label for MPs of different political horizons who share a common ideological refusal to accept the construction of Europe in its current form. Sovereigntists provide a good example of the distinction between the role concept and a mere taxonomy. They were first identified as sovereigntists by their professional entourage. When referring to Nicole Catala, for example, a clerk or assistant could add ‘the sovereigntist MP’ to identify or situate her whenever necessary. The role, in its motivational sense, is an inherent basis for cate- gorisation, allowing players–not just commentators–to identify those who assume it, and allowing those who assume it to identify themselves. Second, the role of the sovereigntist MP is a manner of self-presentation. Its ideological opposition is often defended so ardently that it eventually manifests itself in a style of body language or locution. De Villiers, under the taunt- ing gibes of the gallery, used language on more than one occasion to artic- ulate his role, famously replacing the expected soft French [sh] in Maastricht with a much more aggressive hard [k] for several years. Chevènement’s style of speech is also immediately recognisable. He shared, with Séguin amongst others, a predilection for rare words. The sovereigntist must formally embody his fundamental rupture with the established state of affairs. Some MPs, like Myard, who played a central role on this issue, conform so utterly to this style of body language and behaviour that they eventually incarnate what had been but an abstract idea, the defence of national sovereignty. The turquoise suits and strident voice and the jerky style of speech and general demeanour in the Palais-Bourbon of the mayor of Maisons-Laffitte are eloquent expressions of his deep-seated intention to play the fly in the ointment; his choice of the occasionally vulgar turn of phrase and forging of strikingly original aphorisms essentially delineate his trouble-making persona. In his interview, the ‘man behind the rumpus’ declared, referencing a famous quote from de Gaulle:

Europe is no longer the Europe of sprightly young kid goats, they’re old and grey now, more impotent old billy-goats gruff or menopausal nanny goats. And you can quote me on that, it doesn’t bother me in the least.7

The Affinities of Sovereigntism and Parliament National Parliament is the perfect context for sovereigntists to give full rein to their ideas. The Gaullist Guillet, formerly member of the extreme 172 O. ROZENBERG right movement Occident and for a long time Pasqua’s right arm, uses the comparative weakness of France’s Parliament as an example of the country’s loss of sovereignty:

Now that most of our laws originate in Europe, it is a great shame that we cannot play a stronger role in this. All we actually do now is apply texts coming mostly from the EU. And this raises an essential question—what are our national parliaments for? That’s the real question. They’re now a rather deco- rative element.

Beyond corporatist considerations, the institutional organisation of debate is widely used to legitimise the defence of sovereignty. Speakers indeed dispose of three key attributes of sovereignty in the parliamentary framework: elected representation of the people, Parliament itself, and the Constitution. The people have entrusted their MPs to represent them—how can those same MPs renounce their prerogatives without betraying their electors? Because the essential function of Parliament is to pass laws, accepting and according primacy to EU norms is tantamount to condemning the legislative power to impotence and uselessness. Finally, as several constitutional reforms have been triggered by ratification and transposition of EU texts, the constitutional aspect of the debate has gained prominence.8 Constitutional Council decisions have made these revisions necessary; many of them are devoted to establishing domains within which the treaties provide for sharing out or even transferring areas of competence. The treaty examination mechanism therefore legitimates questions concerning sovereignty. Furthermore, as I observed in Chap. 2, constitutional revisions preceding ratifications have provided an opportunity to reinforce the Parliament’s powers in European affairs. They also allowed representatives to symbolically mark their attachment to national culture when in 1992 they established French as the ‘language of the Republic’, and their attachment to popular sovereignty when they imposed in 2005 an obligation for a referendum on EU new members. The Parliament has also proven to be beneficial for sovereigntists because of the procedural features of its interactions. The Standing Orders and other parliamentary regulations provide a first-class resource to underpin any argument in debate, particularly since they stipulate that the Speaker must ensure that minority opinions are respected. During constitutional revision or treaty ratification debates, sovereigntist MPs use their 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 173 defence of parliamentary procedure and regulations to symbolise their fight to defend the sovereignty of the nation. They attempt to substantiate the idea that the whole debate has been curtailed and the people’s elected representatives gagged by ‘demonstrating’ the injustice of decisions taken by the Conference of Presidents or by the Speaker of the National Assembly. Pierre Mazeaud, MP from 1968 to 1998 and then president of the Constitutional Council, offers a good example of this type of advocacy. An anti-Maastricht Gaullist, he was regarded as a specialist of the parliamentary procedure to the point that he titled his autobiography ‘Point of Order’ (Mazeaud 1995). In this way, sovereigntist discourse carefully maintains a deliberate confusion of claims related to the respect of democracy, national sovereignty, the rule of law, and the prerogatives of the French Parliament. Whereas the prevailing unanimist legitimisation tends to assimilate treaty opposition to a rejection of Europe per se—reprehensible in terms of the French value system—the sovereigntists conflate treaty acceptance with the efface- ment or even subordination of the French Parliament, which is considered equally reprehensible within the self-same value system. For sovereigntists, the nation, the state, democracy, and parliamentary representation are not so much synonymous as inseparable components. In the following extract, it is impossible to separate Catala’s criticism of supra-national authorities from her defence of national parliaments:

Europe is highly frustrating because it deprives parliament of legislative initiative in fields now covered by Europe. Our main activity now consists of transposing directives which are most often detailed and restrictive, leaving our legislators little room for manoeuvre. It [Europe] is an entity, a supranational authority as it used to be called—and its supranational character has now become reality—gradually stripping national Parliaments of their powers.

The sovereigntists’ defence of Parliament is rendered more credible by the historical context of its obtaining prerogatives concerning EU matters. As explained in Chap. 2, the system for parliamentary examination of European affairs was set up by the convergence of critics and supporters of the European integration. In 1992 especially, sovereigntist pressure indeed forced more significant concessions from the executive. Séguin was Speaker of the National Assembly during the 10th Parliament (1993–1997) when the system provided for in Article 88–4 was put into place. It is 174 O. ROZENBERG widely accepted that he fully supported the affirmation of the Assembly’s competence in European affairs, particularly regarding the Delegation. As one clerk notes, ‘[W]hen Pandraud asked for more troops for the Delegation, we all knew Séguin would support us’ (I54). The Europeanisation of the French Parliament owes much to this herald of the ‘no’ vote to Maastricht. Moreover, the Delegation of the National Assembly was under the aegis of Pandraud from 1993 to 1997. While this former Junior Minister, in charge of domestic security under Pasqua in the Chirac government (1986–1988), has never been the Europhobe some portray, he may certainly be ranked among the most outspoken critics of the building of Europe. Beyond ideas, the sovereigntist role, with its propensity for ‘table- thumping’, has certainly bolstered the role of national Parliament, can be seen in the establishment of the scrutiny reserve was established. On 29 June 1994, Prime Minister Balladur declared before the National Assembly that French ministers would thence only vote in the Council of the EU once Parliament had finished examining a given EU bill. The so-called scrutiny reserve, which successive governments had opposed in the name of the Fifth Republic, was thus established once and for all. Séguin has this to say in his memoirs: ‘It remained for me to create a well-founded, reliable precedent to make sure that so stringent a rule was properly respected, and that Brussels would make sure that its deadlines for sending texts took it into account’ (Séguin 2003, p. 420; also Nuttens 2001, p. 142 s). On 6 October 1994, a text was submitted to the French Parliament: a recommendation from the Council concerning France’s excessive public deficit, to be adopted by the Council on the tenth of that month. Séguin publicly protested its belated transmission to the French Parliament and requested that France’s representative refuse to agree to it before the Council until the French Parliament had voiced its opinion. On 7 October, Pandraud proposed a resolution. In the next few days, he summoned Employment Minister Michel Giraud to appear immediately before the Delegation, which had to wait for three hours for him to arrive. With the backing of the Senate, Séguin and Pandraud obtained full satisfaction. The Council examined the Commission’s propositions but postponed definitive adoption of these texts, at France’s request. Using a sporting metaphor favoured by several French MPs, the sovereigntists ‘play a home game’ in the National Assembly whenever federalists are at odds with Europe on the question of EU competency. 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 175

The internal contradictions of the unanimist narrative, and the tangible ‘parliamentary tropism’ (Magnette 2005) of the national political elite, have combined to make the defence of national parliaments as well as the criticism of the EU’s democratic deficit a commonplace in debates on Europe in the National Assembly and Senate. This consensus bears the mark of a growing ‘sovereigntising’ of mentalities. The mobilisation of sovereigntist MPs during debates legitimised their concerns and arguments in the post-Maastricht decade. René André, who spoke in the name of the RPR to support the Amsterdam Treaty, nonetheless declared that he was ‘maddened by the imperialist behaviour of the technocrats in Brussels’.9 Another example: one of Chirac’s first official comments on the massive public rejection of the European Constitution in an interview broadcast on television on 14 July 2005, included a request that the French Parliament be fully involved in European affairs. This ‘sovereigntising’ of mentalities is also rooted in constituency MPs’ general sense—examined in the previous chapter—that Europe claims to regulate every last detail of both their own and their constituents’ activities. Their unanimous call for respect of the principle of subsidiarity testifies amply to this. The legacy of the sovereigntist thinking has affected both the left and the right. In the RPR, it was even more pronounced because of the risk that it entailed of political scission within the party. The PS was not in a comparable situation, as the sovereigntists had left the party in 1992 and their arguments therefore carried less clout. However, the durable success of the expression ‘Federation of Nation States’, an oxymoron coined by Delors, reveals a desire to reconcile support for the national level of government with that of European integration. The success of the term offered implicit recognition that this conciliatory stance, however problematic, had become the cornerstone of French debate on Europe during the 2000s. The Federation of Nation States was proffered as a key feature of Jospin’s manifesto during the race for the presidential election of 2002 at a time when dissent over the question of Europe on the left was increasingly less concerned with the question of respect for national sovereignty, and increasingly more with social issues. From 2011 to 2017, the president of the National Front, Marine Le Pen, advised by Florian Philippot (himself allegedly inspired by Pasqua and Chevènement), used sovereigntist speech to her advantage. Her success pushed the parliamentary right to soften its pro-EU discourse. 176 O. ROZENBERG

The Sovereigntists, Sovereigntism’s True Enemies? This second section seeks to understand why sovereigntism, after a decade of success from 1992 to 2002, has declined. Among other explanations, I emphasise the radicalisation of sovereigntist MPs, a process resulting from over-playing that role.

The Decline of Sovereigntism Sovereigntism has seen its heyday pass; more accurately, sovereigntist movements have been marginalised ever since Jacques Chirac’s second term in office (2002–2007). Having first divided the right in the National Assembly during the 1990s and then the left during the 2002 presidential election, the movement underwent a two-fold decline, with a decrease in the number of its parliamentary troops and the loss of its political leaders. Figure 6.1 below shows how, from the Single Act to the Fiscal Compact

46%

25% 18 17

13% 7 6 5 9% 4% 0 2% 1,6% 0

Number of opposed MPs Proportion of opposed MPs wihthin the group (%)

Fig. 6.1 RPR (subsequently UMP) opponents to the European treaties. Note: See Fig. 3.2 Maastricht 1 shows the vote on the motion of inadmissibility raised by Séguin on 5 May 1992, with Maastricht 2 indicating the vote on the definitive reading 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 177 the ranks of the Gaullists—the majority of sovereigntists in Parliament— swelled in 1992, only to be followed by a steady drop in numbers thereafter. Right-wing parliamentary opposition to the European question returned to the marginal position it occupied in the 1980s, when only the Gaullist barons Michel Debré, Jean Foyer, Yves Guéna and Robert-André Vivien refused to vote on the Single Act. Since 2012, a limited revival has been noted as the right has lost power and in reaction to the National Front’s success. Yet those representatives have not tried to shape an isolated political force within the right or even their own party. Sovereigntist parties have themselves declined. By 2002, the RPF had become a mere club within the UMP and included only seven MPs prior to the 2007 legislative election. Nicolas Dupont-Aignan, initially as an UMP MP, and since 2007 as an independent, continues to defend the legacy of the Gaullist tradition, albeit in isolation. A candidate in presidential elections, he obtained 1.8% of the votes in 2012 and 4.7% in 2017; he supported Marine Le Pen for the second round. Despite this noticeable score, he was not able to obtain MPs from his party in the following legislative elections, apart from himself. The MPF had two MPs in 2002 and 2007, one in 2012 and none since 2017. In 2014, this movement lost the last of its three Senators. The MDC was not to survive to the parliamentary elections of 2002. It has had none since that year, despite having progressed from three to seven MPs in 1997. After becoming the Citizen and Republican Movement in 2003, it struck agreements with the Socialists enabling it to elect one or two MPs in 2007, 2012, and 2017. From the mid-2000s, sovereigntism’s difficulties have also manifested as a leadership deficit. Séguin decided to withdraw from the political stage when he was severely beaten in the Parisian municipal elections in 2001. Choosing not to stand in the legislative election of 2002 for the first time since 1978, he returned to the Court of Auditors10 as First President. He died in 2010. Pasqua failed to gather enough sponsors for the presidential race of 2002. Elected to the Senate in September 2004, he ended his political career surrounded by a growing number of judicial inquiries into his past activities. He left the Palais du Luxembourg in 2011 and died in 2015. Chevènement was accused of having orchestrated Jospin’s defeat and was not re-elected as an MP the month after the presidential election of 2002. He had to wait until September 2008 before he was elected to the Senate. He ran and then withdrew for the presidential election of 2012, finally leaving the Senate in 2014. The Chevènement faction, which amounted to 20% of PS activists in the 1980s, is now divided into a 178 O. ROZENBERG

multitude of splinter groups. For a while, de Villiers seemed to be in a better position. He appeared frequently in the media as a supporter for the ‘no’ vote on the Constitutional Treaty. He ran for the presidential election of 2007 and obtained 2.2% of the votes, half of his 1995 score. He withdrew from politics in 2010. Only a few personalities remain, including, from 2012 to 2017, Sarkozy’s former speech writer, Henri Guaino. Originally from the left, this colourful MP was isolated, if not marginal. The failure of sovereigntism—or, in any case, of most Sovereigntists—may seem surprising. As mentioned, the movement’s key ideas have contributed to structuring debate on Europe and several elections have shown that the defence of national sovereignty against ‘Brussels technocracy’ has enjoyed a favourable response among the electorate. Although post-referendum studies certainly show that the electoral base of the parliamentary right, formerly divided over Maastricht, had voted ‘yes’ on 29 April 2005 (Sauger et al. 2007), the victory of opponents to the European Constitution treaty showed that the sovereigntist position still held sway among a large proportion of voters. According to one exit poll, 40% of ‘no’ voters said they were not or not at all in favour of pursuing the integration of Europe.11 In addition, the electoral successes of the National Front in the 2010s have confirmed that there is indeed political room for nationalist opponents to the EU in France. President of the party since 2011 Marine Le Pen has opted to stress EU issues. Surveys show that her (anti-)European discourse resonated during the presidential elections of 2012 and 2017— which was not previously the case for her father’s voters (Mayer 2013). How, then, can sovereigntism’s lack of success be explained when the sovereigntists held such powerful trump cards, several of which were of such prime electoral importance? Several factors contributed to the demise of their movement. This work examines one in depth: the fact that many sovereigntists overplayed their parliamentary role. It should first be pointed out that sovereigntism’s parliamentary decline may be explained by several fortuitous or structural factors independent of parliamentary politics. The pro-European stance of France’s heads of state since Pompidou hindered the sovereigntist movement’s chances of taking hold. The voting system used in legislative elections does not favour dissident movements, especially if they do not conform to the right/left split. The long-predicted merger of sovereigntists from both right and left only actually occurred within clubs and symposiums, or when certain political figures were poached, notably during Chevènement’s run for the 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 179

presidency in 2002. Finally, the sovereigntist movement also suffered from its right-wing members’ inability to establish any form of sustainable unity. Pasqua’s resignation as political advisor to Séguin, the RPR President, in December 1998, during ratification of the Amsterdam, resoundingly revealed the clash between the former’s divisive strategy and the latter’s rallying approach. Several months later, the RPF tried to reunite the Gaullist and conservative elements of opponents to the building of Europe. De Villiers and Pasqua’s union was soon to end in political divorce in court. To these initial explanations for the sovereigntists’ failure to reach the upper echelons of presidential power or Parliament, we may add that most anti-Maastricht MPs have gradually ceased their opposition to European treaties. Table 6.1 presents a comparative portrait of MPs opposed to the 1992 constitutional revision and their stance on subsequent European treaties. Six years after Maastricht, more than half of the sovereigntists still present in the National Assembly supported the Amsterdam Treaty which, although it did not present key measures like the European and Monetary Union, nonetheless transferred new areas of competency. The other MPs, notably members of the RPR, gradually evolved over the 11th Parliament (1997–2002), with only a handful of diehards continuing to oppose the treaties. Stalwart sovereigntists, true to their anti-Maastricht convictions, argue that their counterparts have given into pressure from party leaders, an explanation which has the subsidiary merit of casting those standing firm in a very favourable light. Myard explains about the EU feelings of his Gaullist colleagues:

A great many of them think the whole business is very dangerous, but they’re too cowardly to say so, or are trapped in the party apparatus and just won’t budge. Even on the left.

Guillet points out that the pressure exerted by the leadership varies depending on whether MPs are in the opposition or in government, and depending on whether there is a divided government (cohabitation) or not:

Both ’93 to ’95 and after ’97 were periods of cohabitation. At the time of Maastricht there was no cohabitation, which meant that a large proportion of the right, and particularly the RPR, cast “no” votes without a moment’s hesita- 180 O. ROZENBERG

Table 6.1 Voting by anti-Maastricht MPs on later European treaties or constitutional revisions Amsterdam Amsterdam Constit. Lisbon 1 2 Nice treaty RPR Borotra XX Catala XX Charié Charropin X Cousin Debré X Deniau XX Ferrand Fillon XX Galley XX de Gastines XX Guichon X Julia Masdeu-Arus Mignon Pinte Séguin XX UDF d'Aubert XX Boutin X Lestas XX Préel de Villiers XX PS Chevènement XX XX Suchod XX NA Bertrand X

Notes: Voted against; Abstained or did not participate in vote; Voted for X: no longer a member of the National Assembly. Amsterdam 1: constitutional revision prior to ratification of the Amsterdam Treaty, November and December 1998. Amsterdam 2: parliamentary ratification of the Amsterdam Treaty, March 1999. MPs shown here were against constitutional revision prior to ratification of the Maastricht Treaty in 1992 and re-elected to Parliament in 1997 (excluding the Communists, not accounted for here). The parliamentary groups designated are those to which MPs belonged in 1992

tion. There was no cohabitation and so they let their natural feelings speak out. From both ’93 and ’97 on they voted for the text, muttering to themselves, “We’re making a huge mistake”, but still supporting it nonetheless. So there was total collusion between left and right on that issue. 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 181

Although divided government certainly increases the pressure both left-wing and right-wing leaders exert on their troops, it does not appear that critics of Europe feared reprisal or lacked true conviction. Indeed, several MPs who have since distanced themselves from the sovereigntist movement are renowned for their willingness to defy the party whip. The former Mayor of Versailles Etienne Pinte led a solitary battle on the right against the double condemnation law,12 Thierry Mariani and Didier Julia went to Iraq in September 2002—without official authorisation—to discuss the French hostages’ situation. These MPs maintain, moreover, that their opposition to European treaties did not cause them any special difficulties within the RPR and then the UMP.

Did you have any problems with your political party over the question of Europe? Mariani: I was in Charles Pasqua’s circle before joining Sarkozy. Everyone knew what I thought and that never caused me any problems.

Did you have any problems with your political party over the question of Europe? Pinte: [silence] I abstained over Nice I think. I can’t really remember. Europe, no, that hasn’t got me into trouble, but a couple of other subjects have!

The mere fact that Pinte is seemingly no longer sure—just six months later—whether he abstained or not is proof that his refusal to vote for the Nice Treaty was not an overt act of disobedience. Finally, sovereigntist MPs, even RPF Pasquaites in 2002, did not find themselves in trouble during investiture proceedings.

The Radicalisation of Sovereigntists The tolerance of right-wing parties vis-à-vis sovereigntist dissidents may be explained by several factors: cultural, given the weak legitimacy of vote discipline within the right (Costa and Kerrouche 2007, p. 172); electoral, based on the independence of MPs elected through the plurality system and holding several mandates simultaneously (Baloge 2014); and strategic, as party leaders prefer dissidence to party splits (Petithomme 2012; Reungoat 2009). The quasi-marginalisation of sovereigntists in Parliament is therefore due less to their having to toe the official leadership line than to their own radicalisation—which clearly manifests in ‘overplaying’ of 182 O. ROZENBERG sovereigntism as a parliamentary role. The idea of ‘overacting’ will be easily understood by those who have had to endure bad theatre: an actor who ‘overplays’ acts too much. The nuance lacking in his performance is precisely that which would have suspended the spectator’s disbelief. The excess calls to mind the fictional nature of the performance, whether theatrical or parliamentary. Overplaying is not merely poor acting; it is a loss of one’s footing. Interactionist social psychology works describe forms of fusion between personality and role, that is to say, subjective identity and social prescriptions.13 Overplaying thus implies a radicalisation process, as it can lead the actor to lose sight of his true state and, as he perceives himself as his character, to neglect his actual interests. The motivational sociology of roles, distancing itself from the rationalist paradigm, actually helps to grasp the psychological dimension of this radicalisation (Blomgren and Rozenberg 2012, p. 219). This hardening of the sovereigntists’ positions led to increased distancing of their most lukewarm supporters. Interviews with Nicole Catala, Etienne Pinte, and Thierry Mariani in 2001/2002 showed that although these MPs still clearly disagreed with the way European integration was being carried out, they had ceased to use sovereigntism as their political hobbyhorse. They no longer opposed all the treaties or criticised them systematically during parliamentary debates or in the media. They did not renounce their sovereigntist ideas, but rather sovereigntism as a parliamentary role. This ideological sub-role, created in 1992 during the constitutional revision prior to ratification of the Maastricht Treaty, does not have the same seniority of other roles such as ‘constituency MP’ or ‘ministerial aspirant’. The early years saw certain sovereigntists, among whom the best known are Philippe de Villiers and Charles Pasqua, playing the role to the hilt. Being a sovereigntist implied out-and-out rejection of any further building of Europe, at least after Maastricht. It required not only criticising the treaties but also predicting France’s decline, perhaps even war. Finally, it also meant refusing complacency within one’s own party, by splitting away from it, by refusing to form electoral agreements and by denouncing the ‘unquestioning line of thought’14 to which every governing party seemed to be prisoner. Although clearly attached to France’s sovereignty, some MPs refused to adopt this hard line because it did not correspond to their own analysis of the situation, personal interest, and/or psychological aspirations. They gradually moved away from the sovereigntists and adopted alternative roles, that of the ‘parliament man’ in many cases. 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 183

The opposition between Myard and Catala is particularly striking in this respect. While Myard comes over as public prosecutor-cum-prophet who rarely shies away from insulting his opponents he referred to Jean Monnet as a ‘nitwit’—Catala is careful to remind them of her respect, as an extract from a speech she gave in the House during ratification of the Amsterdam Treaty reveals:

For me, the erosion of France’s independence, an independence my father fought to defend, breaks my heart; it is an amputation of the nation-state which, for French people, constitutes the very framework of our democracy and solidarity and yet is now in danger of becoming a mere hollow façade. I suppose important political considerations have imposed such a choice. But personally, I do not see their importance, and though I respect the position of those who have chosen to endorse them, I cannot and will not do so myself.15

The two MPs also hold dissenting views on the work of the EU Delegation of which they had long been diligent members.

What do you think of the work done by the Delegation on Europe? Catala: I think it does a considerable amount of work, that it is probably under-estimated by most MPs, and is of high, and generally of very high, quality.

You’ve been a MP since ’93. Have you noticed any important developments within the EU Delegation? Myard: None whatsoever. It’s getting worse and worse. What about its extended prerogatives, Article 88-4 and so forth? Are you joking? There has been no formal extension, 88-4 was passed in ’92, and as far as I am aware there’s been no progress since then. With the Amsterdam Treaty. Yes, all right, but only slightly, there’s been a certain number of small addi- tions, but they mean nothing. Nothing at all! It’s a total farce.

Finally, when Catala, Vice-Speaker of the National Assembly, was interviewed in 2001, just a few months before the end of her political career, she admitted that she was not certain she wanted to be classified as a sovereigntist. 184 O. ROZENBERG

Some MPs who were, or still are, members of the RPR, were known as sovereigntists. They sometimes wanted to split from the RPR, and you were not one of them I believe, were you? Yes, I mean … split … some people are sovereigntists yes, and I’m one of them, perhaps … I don’t know … I can’t really answer your question, however strange that may seem.

Mariani put it even more clearly when he told me in 2002 that sovereigntism was ‘a totally outdated fight in today’s political world’. This MP for the Vaucluse département—an erstwhile supporter of Pasqua in the RPF—admitted to changing his position on the whole question, a somewhat rare confession coming from a politician.

Have you changed your opinion on Europe over the last 10 years? Yes, because today Europe is a fact of life. Ten or 15 years ago things were different … I changed my opinion first because the situation itself changed. Today we’re so much further down the line. Before, you could be for or against Europe—that’s all over now, it’s a totally outdated battle to fight. We’re not going to re-engage in the Maastricht battle.

While non-repentant sovereigntists read confirmation of the relevance of their intuitions into every little event, Mariani observed, for example, that the euro was well and truly in place. Such pragmatism is relative to politics, not simply to policies. It is based not only on the development of Europe’s political system and public policy, but also on the standing of its sovereigntist leaders. Becoming the right-hand man of Pasqua, a sovereigntist heavyweight who beat all other right-wing candidates in the 1999 European election, may have been an enviable prospect for a little-known backbencher in his second term of office. The situation, however, rapidly lost its charm when the venerable sovereigntist leader in question had to fight off scissions within his ranks, faced legal proceedings and declared— to general disbelief—that he could not manage to gather the 500 signatures of mayors necessary to run in the 2002 presidential election. Thus, by choosing to join the ranks of Sarkozy early in his third term as MP, Mariani rejected the ever-increasing marginalisation concomitant with the sovereigntist role. The choice proved to be the right one, since President Sarkozy named him minister in 2010. Having finally accepted the further building of Europe, some anti-Maastricht politicians have also attained the highest echelons of the State: Debré (subsequently Speaker of the National Assembly and then President of the Constitutional Council) and Fillon 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 185

(Prime Minister from 2007 to 2012 and presidential candidate for the right in 2017) to name but two. The increasing extremism of the sovereigntists, once nicknamed ‘the fanatics’16 in the National Assembly is, first and foremost, ideological. Their discourse has gradually moved on from being a defence of the status quo—against Maastricht, against the euro—to a certain programmatic utopianism. Their repeated prophecies of the imminent implosion of the Brussels system were belied, notably concerning the Euro. Their vehement criticism of the EU, regularly likened to totalitarian regimes, undermined another sovereigntist argument which had won so much support in 1992, i.e. denouncing the assimilation of treaty opposition with a refusal of Europe per se. By decrying, for instance, the European Commission as a ‘watering hole for putrid bureaucrats’ (de Villiers 2003), the sovereigntists were appealing to primitive Europhobia. Yet the progressive loss of sovereigntist supporters in Parliament does not seem to have deterred the certitudes of its most committed supporters. Interviewed in 2001, Myard acknowledged that few other MPs shared his opinions. However, this not only did little to shake his personal conviction of being right, but it seems that his political isolation has only served to strengthen his stance.

Do you feel isolated? Not at all. I feel all the stronger for saying what I say. And I am intimately convinced that although today we are few, and isolated, as far as strength of ideas and credibility are concerned, I am sure of winning sooner or later. That’s the truly surprising thing about it. Because in fact I am alone, I know—but when I spell out the truth to them, like to Barnier17 […]. Clearly, the system will implode. And so I tell them “I told you so, lads. If you don’t mind me saying so”.

The sovereigntists play both prophet and Lionheart, daring to say out loud what, in their opinion, many other MPs—more concerned about their career prospects—either do not dare or choose not to reveal. They trumpet their fine moral behaviour, which favours personal disinterest, courage, and honesty. Myard provided us with a further eloquent example of this.

Today, questioning the Community process is synonymous with being iconoclastic. That’s what I do, I hear you say. And it’s what I will always do, because I am absolutely sure and certain that this whole Europe business is going to implode and that we are now in the last phase of implosion, with only another five or ten years to go. 186 O. ROZENBERG

Certain virulent remarks made by Myard when he was interviewed—he predicted that one day the French people would grab their politicians by the ‘short and curlies’—show that the radicalisation of sovereigntism is not only rooted in its underlying ideas but also embodied in a stance, choice of idiom, and register of expression. This indeed describes the role of sovereigntist, understood as a series of behavioural precepts that gradually veers away from the norm. Finally, the theme of decline, the underlying obsession of sovereigntist discourse—as well as of all reactionary rhetoric (Hirschman 1991)—sometimes gives way to a call for popular insurrec- tion, but it is unclear whether this is based on the model of 14 July 1789 or that of the violent reactionary riot of 6 February 1934. The interview with Myard ended on the following note: ‘One day the people will hold these jackanapeses to account, and that will be a very fine day indeed’. Two years earlier, on 18 January 1999, the meeting of Congress held to modify the French Constitution prior to ratification of the Amsterdam Treaty had led to a demonstration in front of the railings outside the Château de Versailles, during which demonstrators hurled stones at official parliamentary vehi- cles and the coach transporting the MPs. Lastly, the radicalisation of sovereigntism can be seen not only through the opinions voiced by its followers in Parliament, but also through the bold electoral choices of some of its main leaders: de Villiers, Chevènement, and Séguin. Most politicians opt for maximum safety in electoral matters, weighing the pros and cons before deciding to stand, carefully assessing the medium-term consequences of their choices, adapting their strategy to the probability of victory or anticipating defeat. Because sovereigntist leaders overestimated the persuasive power of their ideas, because the desire to defend their ideas was an aim in itself, and because subsequent defeat was not devoid of charm, the sovereigntist leaders threw all caution to the wind. Portrayed in the press as ‘100% sovereigntist’,18 De Villiers failed to build on his success in the European elections of 1994 and 1999. His bids for the presidency in both 1995 and 2007 and the high-level election involvement of his party, MPF, were risky strategies, exposing him to repeated failures. He survived as president of the Département Council for Vendée only because his own electoral turf was a true personal stronghold. Since his denunciation in 1990 of the financing of Mitterrand’s electoral campaign of 1988, de Villiers has preferred to play the role of the knight in shining armour, despite jeopardising both his ministerial career and party as a result (Favier and Martin-Roland 1996, p. 524). His language also became gradually more radical, as illustrated when he lumped Islam 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 187 with terrorism in a July 2005 televised statement and reconciled with the National Front a decade later. As for Chevènement, after three years as number three in Jospin’s cabinet, he ran for the Presidency in 2002. His campaign claimed that Chirac and Jospin were the same and decried their policy of ‘letting things go to the dogs’. This strategy was proven to be politically suicidal: not only did it contribute to the Socialist Prime Minister’s failure to qualify for the second round but also, in the following legislative election, it made any alliance between the PS and pro-Chevènement candidates impossible. Outgoing MDC MPs were routed, starting with Chevènement himself. By leading his presidential campaign from the position of possible winner instead of merely a symbolic presence in the first round, Chevènement clearly overestimated the power of his ideas to win votes and his own ability to defend them. Last, but not least, the political ascension of Séguin collapsed at the turn of the millennium when he dramatically stepped down as front- runner of the RPR in the 1999 European election and then went on to make some ill-advised political choices in the 2001 Parisian municipal elections.19 In 1993, he disagreed with the economic policy of the strong franc and therefore refused to play any part in Balladur’s cabinet. His fidel- ity to his own ideas thereby restricted his capacity to influence the policy of the nation. Séguin challenged Chirac during the 1990s and President of the RPR from 1997 to 1999. For the first time since 1978, he chose not to stand in the 2002 legislative election. In his disarming autobiography published in 2003, is very different in style from the usual run of political books, he justified the fall of his political career with his refusal to compromise: ‘I know that denying one’s own principles is the best shortcut to electoral victory. Never will I do such a thing’ (Séguin 2003, p. 598). The propensity of this social Gaullist to present himself as a victim—of his own convictions and the inconsequential behaviour of the Chirac regime—is an example of the desire for martyrdom Payne observes in his study of political leaders spurred on by a sense of moral obligation.20

* * *

Parliamentary ideologists are not the only ones with ideas to defend, but they differ from their colleagues in that they believe they were elected to do just that, and they fling themselves wholeheartedly into the task. They also share a certain behavioural style and certain psychological aspirations. 188 O. ROZENBERG

In the early 1990s, the process of transferring sovereignty aroused opposition among some elected representatives who considered this to be a threat to France’s control of her own destiny. Beyond that, some MPs’ self-image and vision of politics on the one hand, and the progressive construction and justification of Europe in public debate on the other hand, led a group of right- and left-wing politicians to heighten their opposition by forging a new sub-role, the sovereigntist, to be played in Parliament. They stood up against the pro-European consensus in Parliament and the coercive discourse of the debate, notably the unanimist justification of Europe. During the debate on Maastricht and afterwards, these MPs were convinced that they were being press-ganged into support for Europe, that the truth was being smothered, and that Europe was developing in secret. In this way, they created this role of sovereigntist. Sovereigntists stood up alone, with all others against them, to defy ministers and predict imminent catastrophe. Although initially, sovereigntism lured supporters from both the left and right, it was gradually reduced to a mere handful of colourful, though isolated, individuals. This marginality has been analysed as a typical process of radicalisation. Although the impetus induced by the emotional incentive of these parliamentary ideologists helped forge the role of sovereigntist, it also led to their marginalisation and even decline: with fewer and fewer MPs from either left or right choosing to embark on the crusade initiated by their ostracised colleagues. Sovereigntism’s mystique lies in the willingness of its acolytes, enlightened by prophetic intuition or mere common sense, to stand up and say ‘no’. Strength of conviction and bold- ness of action have made of the sovereigntist a glorious resistance fighter and striking orator, rather than a party leader, minister, or election winner. Sovereigntists vaunt their isolation and renunciation of power as proof of their integrity. Parliament played a key role in this process, providing the necessary arena for the construction, expression, and radicalisation of the sovereigntist line and transforming what was little more than a political opinion into a role identifiable to politicians, the media and certain voters. To this end, parliamentary debates on the floor were exploited to the full. Sovereigntist virtuosity harmonised with the solemnity of the setting and the lofty style—even grandiloquence—of the ideologue. The defence of Parliament’s prerogatives was equally an argument of great importance for the sovereigntists. In the end, the mobilisation of the sovereigntists in the Palais-Bourbon during the 1990s, particularly forceful in contrast to other MPs’ apathy, 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 189 doubtless contributed to the growing isolation of Parliament in national debate. In 1992, Parliament played a key role in informing public opinion, stressing the stakes at play and supplying arguments. Progressively, the way Parliament treated Europe became less in phase with changes among the electorate. While ratification of the Treaties of Amsterdam and Nice revived the Maastricht debate (though with less gusto), right-wing voters were less concerned with sovereignty, and left-wing voters focussed more on the economic liberalism of EU policies. Thus, in 2004 and 2005, Parliament did not play the key role in leading debate on the European Constitution Treaty that it had in 1992. The ‘sovereigntising’ of parliamentary mentalities contributed to this gradual lack of congruence between the elected representatives of France’s governing parties and their electors over the question of Europe. Within the mainstream right, it also helped to affirm a kind of soft and inconsequential Euroscepticism evident in Sarkozy’s campaigns against Schengen in 2012 and 2016, Fillon’s vaunting of his anti-Maastricht background in 2017 when he stood for the presidential race, or Laurent Wauquiez’s accession to the head of LR the same year.

Notes 1. Translator’s note: this word uses an Anglicisation of the French term souverainiste, as it represents a particular movement in French politics and has no other exact equivalent in English. 2. Probably in 1997. Paul-Marie Coûteaux, MPF MEP from 1999 to 2009, played an active role in importing the term. It was finally adopted by the media in 1999 to describe Pasqua and de Villiers’ list in the European elections (Le Dréau 2009). 3. JORF, AN, CR, first sitting, 3 March 1999, pp. 1955–1956. 4. For examples of this discourse from the 1950s to the 2000s: Rozenberg (2011). 5. See also a convergent view Teyssier (2017). 6. The independence of the Banque de France was guaranteed by a 4 August 1993 law and reinforced by a law on 12 May 1998. The 1998 law was approved by the Socialist groups, the RPR, and the UDF, but rejected by the Communist groups and the RCV. 7. The initial metaphor used here refers to a famous comment by de Gaulle. However artificial the interview set-up may be, such language is typical of Myard. He has often made similar remarks before his colleagues in hearings of the parliamentary delegation. 190 O. ROZENBERG

8. The Maastricht Treaty (1992), the Amsterdam Treaty (1999), the Constitutional Treaty (2005), the Lisbon Treaty (2008) and a framework decision relative to European arrest warrants (2003). Moreover, a constitutional revision relative to asylum seeking in 1993 was supported by the Balladur government in the name of needing to apply the Schengen Convention, ratified in 1991, though this interpretation is open to discussion. 9. JORF, AN, CR, 1st sitting, 25 November 1998, pp. 9529–9530. 10. A prestigious independent government agency which monitors state spending. 11. Exit poll of 29 May 2005 carried out by the Ipsos Institute. 12. The expulsion of foreign nationals after their prison sentence has been completed. 13. Alasdair MacIntyre (1984) describes as ‘character role’ this kind of confusion. See also Searing (1994, p. 397 s). 14. Criticism of a pensée unique (a sole way of thinking) gained ground during the 1990s. 15. JORF, AN, CR, first sitting, 3 March 1999, p. 1948. 16. Referring to a handful of sovereigntist RPR MPs led by Myard during the 11th Parliament. In French: ‘Les fous de Dieu’, a terrorist group. Cf. Le Monde, 24 April 1998. 17. The pro-European French political leader Michel Barnier was a member of the European Commission at the time of the interview. 18. ‘Philippe de Villiers, 100% souverainiste’, Le Monde, 18 March 2005. 19. See Chap. 7 about his defeat within the RPR group in 1998. 20. ‘There is in the obligation type, then, an impulse toward martyrdom’ (Payne et al. 1986, p. 126).

References Baloge, M. (2014). S’opposer à quel prix? Modalités et conséquences de l’engagement eurocritique chez les parlementaires français et allemands de l’UMP, de la CDU/CSU et du FDP. Politique européenne, 43, 94–119. Blomgren, M., & Rozenberg, O. (2012). Bringing Parliamentary Roles Back in. In M. Blomgren & O. Rozenberg (Eds.), Parliamentary Roles in Modern Legislatures (pp. 211–230). London: Routledge. Chevènement, J. P. (1999). La République contre les bien-pensants. Paris: Plon. Costa, O., & Kerrouche, E. (2007). Qui sont les députés français? Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. de Villiers, P. (1996a). Dictionnaire du politiquement correct à la française. Paris: Albin Michel. de Villiers, P. (1996b). La machination d’Amsterdam. Paris: Albin Michel. 6 THE SOVEREIGNTIST: AN EPHEMERAL ROLE 191 de Villiers, P. (2003). La 51ème étoile du drapeau américain. Paris: Albin Michel. Favier, P., & Martin-Roland, M. (1996). La Décennie Mitterrand, t.3 Les défis (p. 524). Paris: Seuil. Garraud, M. F. (Ed.). (2005). Oser dire non à la politique du mensonge. Monaco: Éditions du Rocher. Hirschman, A. (1991). The Rhetoric of Reaction: Perversity, Futility, Jeopardy. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press. Le Dréau, C. (2009). L’Alliance pour la souveraineté de la France et l’émergence du militantisme souverainiste (1997–2002). Les cahiers Irice, 4, 129–146. MacIntyre, A. (1984). After Virtue (2nd ed.). Notre Dame: University of Notre Dame Press. Magnette, P. (2005). What Is the European Union? Basingstoke: Palgrave. Mayer, N. (2013). From Jean-Marie to Marine Le Pen: Electoral Change on the Far Right. Parliamentary Affairs, 66(1), 160–178. Mazeaud, P. (1995). Rappel au règlement. Paris: France-Empire. Nuttens, J. D. (2001). Le Parlement français et l’Europe: l’article 88–4 de la Constitution. Paris: LGDJ. Payne, J., Woshinsky, O., Velben, E., & Coogan, W. (1986). Motivation of Politicians (2nd ed.). Chicago: Nelson-Hall. Petithomme, M. (2012). “Confiner” le clivage européen: le RPR et la gestion de ses divisions internes lors du référendum sur le traité de Maastricht (1992). Parlement[s], Revue d’histoire politique, 2(18), 141–155. Reungoat, E. (2009). Les difficultés d’implantation d’un parti souverainiste en France (1992–2009). Les cahiers Irice, 2(4), 113–128. Rozenberg, O. (2011). Debating About Europe at the French National Assembly: The Failure of the Rhetoric of Unanimity. In T. Turkka, C. Wiesner, & K. Palonen (Eds.), Parliament and Europe. Rhetorical and Conceptual Studies on Their Contemporary Connections (pp. 145–164). Nomos: Baden-Baden. Sauger, N., Brouard, S., & Grossman, E. (2007). Les Français contre l’Europe? Les sens du référendum du 29 mai 2005. Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Searing, D. (1994). Westminster’s World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Séguin, P. (2003). Itinéraire dans la France d’en bas, d’en haut et d’ailleurs. Paris: Seuil. Teyssier, A. (2017). Philippe Séguin. Le remords de la droite. Paris: Perrin. Woshinsky, O. (1973). The French Deputy. Lexington: D.C. Heath. CHAPTER 7

The Career Politician: The Europeanisation of Political Outsiders

Politicians tend not to admit the full extent of their ambitions, given that representation is supposedly based on the disregard of personal interests. Nevertheless, political leaders are not all as ambitious as one might think, or as the conceptualisation of representative democracy in terms of competition for jobs (Schumpeter 2003 [1943]) might lead one to believe. While it is true that few MPs would refuse a post as minister, only a minority pursue it as a priority. These ambitious MPs and Senators adopt certain strategies and conform to certain behaviours; they attempt to play the role of ministerial, even presidential aspirants for the benefit of a handful of political heavyweights.1 The question of whether Europe is useful to these career politicians is a difficult one to answer because the qualifications required to become a minister or President are unclear. This very opacity strengthening the discretionary power of those performing the selection. However, the issue is nonetheless an important one when looking at the relationship of the French Parliament to Europe in that the two Assemblies constitute recruitment pools for the clear majority of ministers, a mean of more than three quarters. This chapter considers first how and why ministerial aspirants tend to neglect EU issues. Several examples of backbenchers are examined to explain why European activities generally do not help a career, be they developed within EU committees, on the floor, or in a less institutionalised manner. Nonetheless, a specific strategy that contrasts with this sort of collective indifference to Europe is considered. It consists in implicitly

© The Author(s) 2020 193 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_7 194 O. ROZENBERG challenging the leadership of one’s own camp by challenging the construction of Europe. Thus, although ambitious MPs tend to disregard European affairs, this neglect creates opportunities for a limited number of others, notably for those who occupy the position of outsider within their own camp. Key steps in the careers of top leaders such as François Bayrou, Philippe Séguin and Laurent Fabius provide evidence.

Europe Does Not Give Credit Do European activities enable aspirants to become ministers? When they were interviewed on the subject in 2003—a few months after one had succeeded the other two Chairs of the Delegation for the EU said more or less the same thing, expressing themselves with an openness which suggests that they were not especially interested in the role of ministerial aspirant.

Alain Barrau: Well, if Jospin had been elected, I was one of the people who might have been Minister for European Affairs. But the problem didn’t arise, we hadn’t … and as well as that I never really try to put myself in a position to….

Within a political career, is it a good strategy, in inverted commas, to be Delegation President?

Pierre Lequiller: Yes, it’s not a bad one, it’s not a bad one because … Well, what I can say is that I’m very happy where I am, that’s true, but … What is this, a report? It won’t be published in the press? It’s true that the European Delegation can be a stepping stone for … for later. But, well, for the moment, I’m not thinking about that, I’m just interested in it and that’s it.

Future events belied both MPs’ statements. In 2004, contrary to his expectations, Barrau was not chosen by the PS for the European election lists.2 Lequiller, for his part, did not enter any government, although the right remained in power during the decade that followed the interview. He decided in 2017 to withdraw from politics after 30 years in the Palais-Bourbon. The similarity between both cases confirms, as already noted in Chap. 3, that Europe is not a career asset. Five explanatory elements may be distinguished, associating them with examples of some French MPs. 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 195

Henri Nallet and Robert Pandraud: Two Former Ministers to Please The chairmanship of the Assemblies’ EU committees is rarely offered to ambitious politicians at the beginning or in the middle of their careers. A seniority rule has been often but not systematically applied to filling this position, as for the chairmanship of standing committees. It implies that the post is usually reserved for elected representatives who have carried out three or four mandates. The chairmanship is also used to thank or ‘find a cushy job’ for MPs whose career is reaching an end, for example, a former minister who is no longer part of the leadership team. Robert Pandraud, Junior Minister from 1986 to 1988, was elected Chair in 1993 when he was 65 years old. Henri Nallet, a minister under Mitterrand in 1985 and 1986 and then from 1988 to 1992, was 58 in 1997. He explained: ‘I had two alternatives: I could either become Chair of the Law Committee or the Delegation. In the end, the Law Committee was given to Catherine Tasca and I took the EU Delegation’. In 2012, the appointment of an Ecologist MP as Chair illustrated the need for balancing forces within the parliamentary majority. In fact, it was necessary to award a con- solation prize to a disappointed partner who had been passed over for the presidency of the standing committees.

Béatrice Marre and Thierry Mariani: Two Rapporteurs Far from the Spotlights The various issues grappled with by EU affairs committees enable majority as well as opposition MPs to obtain a report rather easily. Some parliamentarians hope to capture the attention of the media and enhance their public profile. One clerk spoke about an MP thus:

He wants to be a minister and therefore has to position himself. He took the report on linguistic diversity and he did two press conferences. He was on the front page of the Figaro, he had three pages in the daily Bulletin, reactions on Europe 1, France Inter, BFM, etc. (I51)

Fifteen years after this interview, this MP has not been named minister. The lack of public interest in this issue probably did not help him. Certainly, European issues may help in acquiring the status of EU specialist, or specialist of any policy field that is deeply Europeanised. After 196 O. ROZENBERG being chief of staff for President Mitterrand, Béatrice Marre was an MP from 1997 to 2002. Through the Delegation for the EU, she developed an image of competence on international trade. She published half a dozen reports on the subject within the framework of the Delegation. She travelled to Seattle and to Doha to attend international negotiations. These activities did not help her to become famous or to improve her political status. She failed in the legislative elections of 2002 and 2012 and became advisor to the External Trade Minister in 2013. Therefore, although her specialisation did not help her in continuing a political career, it did enable her to recover. Another example is provided by Thierry Mariani, an MP from 1993 to 2010 before his entrance into the Fillon government. He owes his nomination more to having been rapporteur for a bill on immigration on behalf of the Law Committee than to signing Delegation reports on the management of migratory flux. Several reasons may explain why the activities within the EU committees are of limited interest for journalists. There is, in general, a deficit in the way EU topics are treated by the French mass media. The journalists who would be more interested are often located in Brussels instead of Paris (Auel et al. 2016). In addition, it is difficult to adapt this kind of parliamentary activity to media discourse. MPs and clerks may identify, within the EU agenda, what may be a source of interest for the press, but there is inevitably a gap of several weeks, if not months, between the decision to draft a report and its publication. During this span of time, public attention may have shifted.

Christian Bataille: An Expert More Useful in Parliament Than in Government An MP recognised as an expert by his or her peers may yet have some hope to break into politics. The example of Christian Bataille, a Socialist MP from the Nord from 1988 to 2017, shows how a type of expertise with a strongly European dimension can affect a career. This former literature teacher was identified as ‘an authority on questions relating to electricity and nuclear power’ (Abélès 2001, p. 136) within the Parliament. In 1991, he was a rapporteur on the law for the management of nuclear waste, the so-called Bataille Law. In 1999, he was a rapporteur for the law on the modernisation and development of electricity as a public service which, amongst other measures, transposed the European directive on the opening of the electricity market.3 His activities in the energy sector stoked his 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 197 interest in European questions, whether they concerned laws transposing directives, examinations of parliamentary resolutions on proposals for directives, or reports issued by the European Commission. This work, carried out over several years, constituted an important element in the personal political capital of the Nord MP. Marc Abélès writes that ‘he is a good example of how an MP might be called upon when a minister is being trained to contribute expertise in a domain of which he has specialist knowledge’ (Abélès 2001, p. 137). However, the path followed by Bataille is not a good model for an ambitious MP who wants to become a minister. MP for 30 years, he has undoubtedly become known among his colleagues as a reliable and competent specialist on energy, although rather insensitive to environmental issues. His expertise led him to the vice-presidency of the parliamentary group for evaluating scientific and technological choices. However, he has not attained the foremost political responsibilities, and he failed at the first round of the legislative elections in 2017. It would appear from his example that, beyond a certain level, expertise can be a handicap.4 Bataille, in fact, became so clearly identified with energy questions that the generalist dimension proper to a ministerial function was denied him. Furthermore, in a certain sense, he became a victim of his own success during the Jospin government’s term by being more useful to the Prime Minister on the Parliament benches than at Bercy as the Minister for Economy. As a rapporteur for the law on the modernisation and development of electricity as a public utility, he played the role of intermediary between a mixed majority and State Secretary Christian Pierret, who stood to the right of the Socialist Party. The Communists, without whom the Socialists would not have obtained a majority in the 11th Parliament (1997–2002), abstained. A few months later, they informed their Socialist allies that they would refuse to vote for the transposition of the directive which opened the gas market to competition.5 Bataille explained to us in 2001:

The majority in the Assembly is a question of arithmetic. And in this arithmetic, the Communists count much more than the Greens. The Communists, there are about 40 of them [between 1997]. There are six Greens and usually they don’t even agree among themselves. While the bill was being discussed, did you experience pressure from the government? No, no, no, no. Not from the leader of the government. I think in the end that I placed the cursor where the Prime Minister implicitly wanted it to be, in 198 O. ROZENBERG

a balanced position inside the plural majority. Whereas the Secretary of State for Industry had a much more socio-liberal position […] If the bill was passed in the way that it was, that’s because it corresponded to what the Prime Minister and a lot of the members of his government wanted. When that happens, what is needed is a rapporteur who stands his ground, who has authority.

Rachida Dati and Pervenche Berès: EU Careers Far from the Palais-Bourbon Berès and Dati: these two French MEPs have little in common, but both illustrate the limited value of European expertise for a national MP. Dati provided an example of ‘entry from above’ in politics when she was nominated for Minister for Justice in 2007 without having been elected beforehand. Elected to the EP in 2009 and 2014, she has not been involved there and has developed a parallel local career as Mayor of the seventh district of Paris. In 2009, seemingly forgetting that she was being recorded by French TV, she even complained about how boring the EP session was, implying she was only there for the sake of the media and her timesheet. Formerly an Assembly clerk, Berès has been elected to the EP from 1994 to 2019. She occupied several key positions: rapporteur, committee chair, Chair of the French Socialist delegation … Despite their opposition, both profiles indicate how peripheral Europe is for the political capital of a French politician. Governing parties occasionally select an eligible position for their list, including for political high-flyers who need a place after their time in government, post-electoral defeat, or at the end of a career. European expertise is, if not totally neglected, a secondary asset for being selected in these cases. In other cases, parties (sometimes reluctantly) appoint incumbents recognised for their good work for the European elections. These are European specialists, but they tend to carry out their political careers exclusively at the EU level, as if it were a parallel political space. As observed by the sociology of politicians in Europe (Beauvallet and Michon 2013; Georgakakis and Rowell 2013), Brussels is not Washington: becoming an MEP or commissioner is not perceived by French politicians as the culmination of a political career. Nor is it a failure for those who sit within EU institutions; it is rather a possibility to develop a career that diverges from the canonical course. Politicians’ prosopography and subjective perceptions can devalue the European expertise of a national MP. Michel Barnier on the right and 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 199

Pierre Moscivici on the left constitute two examples of politicians able cross between the French and European Parliaments, or between the government and the Commission. But those two figures remain isolated: it is difficult to identify French politicians recognised as EU specialists active on both levels. It is true that French Assemblies may constitute a recruitment pool for EU positions. Half of the French commissions nominated since 1977 or about one French MEP out of five (22% in 2004, 18% in 2009, 16% in 20146) originate in Parliament. Yet, apart from the fact that these jobs are not numerous, European expertise is only one dimension among others for recruitment of MPs. In 2004, Chirac chose Jacques Barrot, then leader of the UMP group at the Assembly, as Commissioner to thank the man who had helped him found the UMP. More fundamentally, ambitious French politicians do not dream of entering the EP. The continued strengthening of the Strasbourg Assembly’s power since the Single Act has not fundamentally changed the stature of this mandate. The EP is the victim of a kind of mimetic aversion, to allude to the mimetic desire conceptualised by René Girard (1977 [1972]). In that respect, the main government leaders are a prototype. From 1979 to 1999, before the regionalisation of the voting system, they often claimed the head of a list. Once elected, those who were members of the National Assembly all gave priority to the French Parliament and resigned from the EP (combining both mandates has been forbidden since 2000). The leaders therefore sig- nal to their troops that real—political—life takes place in Paris. A politician wanting to be noticed by them can only achieve this aim at the Palais-Bourbon.

Elisabeth Guigou: A European but Poorly Performing Status If developing European expertise, whether real or presumed, does not constitute an efficient strategy for becoming minister, many MPs still shine a light on their pro-European commitment and their contacts with European decision-makers. This way of presenting oneself is especially popular for high-flyer politicians, as the European dimension seems to be a prerequisite for appearing stately. Pierre Sadran’s analysis of Alain Juppé’s blog underlines how the former Prime Minister seeks to upgrade his profile through all kinds of European-related references. Juppé wrote in 2004: ‘I have so much to tell you this morning. […] But I have an important meeting on Euro-Mediterranean relations, which I will speak of later’.7 Until 2011, Dominique Strauss-Kahn (MP from 1988 to 1991 and then 200 O. ROZENBERG from 2001 to 2007) distinguished himself in this respect, not only because of the extent of his European network but also by his ability to use it as a symbol of the socialist modernity that he saw himself as embodying. For example, in 2004, at the request of the European Commission President, Romano Prodi, he presided over a round table on the theme ‘A Long- Lasting Project for the Europe of Tomorrow’. Participants included several prestigious personalities such as Bronislaw Geremek, the Nobel Prize-winning writer José Saramago, and Hans Tietmeyer. A European network can also be more structured by means of clubs or associations. Moscovici, former Prime Minister Michel Rocard, and Strauss-Kahn founded a think-tank called ‘On the Left in Europe’ in June 2003, whose scientific committee included the names of European celebrities from the world of politics and academia. In 1994, Elisabeth Guigou created the Europartenaires association which, showing a rare level of continuity for this type of structure, is still active today. Guigou continues to wax lyrical when interviewed about the association that assembles politicians, busi- nesspeople, and senior civil servants. Finally, Europe provides an opportunity for politicians to promote their convictions and offers a certain amount of access to the media as shown, for example, by the plethora of books written by political leaders in early 2005 when the referendum on the constitutional treaty took place. These included Bayrou’s Plaidoyer pour la Constitution européenne (Advocacy of the European Constitution) and Moscovici’s Dix questions qui fâchent les Européens (Ten Questions That Trouble Europeans). The cover pages of many of these books offer proof of the authors’ quest for self-promotion. A black and white close-up photograph of Elisabeth Guigou appears on the cover of her book whose title—Je vous parle d’Europe (Let Me Talk to You about Europe)—is centred on her. The cover of Strauss-Kahn’s book, Oui!: lettre ouverte aux enfants d’Europe, (Yes! Open Letter to the Children of Europe) features a drawing of a kindly-looking professor who resembles the author. The said professor has just written the ‘Yes’ of the book’s title on the blackboard. More rarely, parliamentarians who want to highlight their European convictions can speak during Assembly or Senate debates when treaties are being ratified or when European personalities have been invited to address the Assembly or a given committee. Thus, when Giscard d’Estaing, President of the Convention, came to address the Assembly on the 3 December 2002, Guigou and Bayrou spoke after the presidents of the Foreign Affairs Committee and the Delegation. 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 201

Discussion of Europe provides an occasion for leaders to proclaim both their skill in and interest in the battle of ideas, which is often formulated as a ‘passion’. Guigou, whose career started with Europe under Mitterrand, thus explained in 2003 her membership in the Assembly’s EU Delegation despite the general lack of interest in its work.

What do you think of the EU Delegation? Well, it does a lot of work, it has always worked hard, but it is not much listened to on the outside. I don’t know … The work is okay, there are interesting discussions … but there’s never any feedback! There’s never any feedback from the Assembly or outside the Assembly? Very little from within the Assembly and none from outside. Why are you a member of it? Because I’m interested in it! Because I want to spur debate on Europe, to the best of my ability.

Protean references to Europe are used in different circumstances by high-flyers to promote themselves and their work. However, the more European-minded MPs and Senators, some of whom lay claim to the federalist label, find themselves confronted with a major contradiction. For institutional reasons and because of the way the media functions, it is difficult to work on Europe from the National Assembly. Yet for the purpose of advancing a career, it is far better to sit on the benches of the Palais- Bourbon than on the benches of the European Parliament. As an example, in 1999, Bayrou led a personalised campaign at the top of the UDF list for the European election, basing his discourse on the UDF’s federalist philosophy. A few days after his election, however, he announced that he would give up his post as MEP following the example of the other leaders, Hollande, Sarkozy, and de Villiers. After myriad editorials criticising his decision, he finally withdrew from his national mandate until the 2002 legislative election, when he chose Paris over Strasbourg, this time without comment from the press. On a similar theme, Guigou had harsh words to say about the lack of interest in European affairs in the National Assembly:

In France, the state of debate on Europe, whether it be at public or at parliamentary level, is extremely limited, and perhaps even the least developed in Europe, in the European Union as it exists today, So, it’s really not great!.

Nevertheless, Guigou, MEP from 1994 to 1997, and Assembly MP from 2002 to 2017, explained in 2003: 202 O. ROZENBERG

I prefer to be at the National Assembly rather than at the European Parliament because this is where it’s happening, where you’re at the heart of the action. The great value in being an MEP is that you are really confronted with Europe, every time you do a concrete piece of work on a report or on a resolution with colleagues from all the other countries. You really go through culture shock.

A reading of the transcript of her words alone does not clearly convey the visual and oral impression transmitted by her manner of speaking. Guigou gives the impression of coming alive when she mentions ‘culture shock’ and her work as rapporteur at the European Parliament. It is as if the rules of the game of politics have forced a frontline player to be part of an organisation that does not correspond to her personal aspirations. To conclude this first section, the analysis of the careers and opinions of French MPs has led to identifying different but converging explanations of why ministerial aspirants tend to neglect EU issues. Europe in the French Parliament does not bring publicity to a backbencher. It does not open the cabinet’s doors. European careers are only moderately attractive and do not always necessitate an EU background. Only a few highflyers highlight their European statuses, but it is difficult to do so from Paris— except through developing a critical discourse.

European Protest: From the Call of Cochin to the European Constitution The evocation of Europe in the National Assembly or the Senate can enable politicians to establish themselves as experts, people with a passion- ate interest in European affairs, statesmen, or committed federalists, but it will not help them to fulfil any ministerial or presidential ambitions they may have. On the other hand, the critique of European construction can have a bearing on power struggles within political parties. Since adopting such a stance is a risky strategy, it tends to be used by the candidates who are least well placed to challenge the leadership of a party. Parliament tends to be the preferred forum for such manoeuvring: such was the case for Philippe Séguin’s rise to prominence in 1992 and subsequent fall from grace in 1998, as well as Laurent Fabius’ opposition to the Constitutional Treaty in 2004 or the opposition to the Turkish candidacy by François Bayrou in 2004–2005. Over the last 35 years, several leading politicians have built their party leadership bids around critiques of the prevailing course of European 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 203

construction. This kind of strategy tends to be adopted by outsiders, namely individuals who are considered relatively unlikely to take on leadership roles. In fact, it entails some risk, since the holders of the highest offices of state are almost always among the most pro-European in their respective political camps. Nevertheless, outsiders and on occasion even serious challengers have used criticism of European treaties as a platform to mount a bid for the leadership of a political party or group. To cite just a few examples: Jacques Chirac launching an attack on the UDF, referring to it as the ‘foreigners’ party’, from Cochin Hospital in 1978; Philippe Séguin rising to prominence through opposing the Maastricht Treaty, and later, in 1997, wresting control of the RPR from Jacques Chirac supporters; Jack Lang announcing that he would vote ‘no’ on the Amsterdam Treaty in 1998; minority movements within the PS, led by Henri Emmanuelli and Arnaud Montebourg, refusing to support EU enlargement in 2003, as well as their opposition to the treaty establishing a constitution for Europe the following year, when they benefited from the valuable support of Laurent Fabius. Sarkozy’s opposition, in 2004, to the accession of Turkey, which Chirac supported, can also be mentioned. After 2012, leftist opposition to President Hollande’s policies concentrated on European questions: somewhat loudly on the part of the Speaker of the National Assembly, Claude Bartolone, who called for a ‘confrontation’ with Germany; more stridently on the part of the Minister of the Economy Arnaud Montebourg, who was dismissed in 2014. On the right, the MP Laurent Wauquiez attracted attention by calling for ‘everything to change’ in Europe, in contrast to his earlier pro-European positions (Wauquiez 2014). The situations mentioned above are all different, as were the arguments put forward for opposing the various European texts. Nevertheless, the main players involved all based their strategies on challenging the status quo in Europe, in attempts to change their party’s position on Europe or even take over their party’s leadership. It is therefore a different strategy from those of Jean-Pierre Chevènement or Jean-Luc Mélenchon in the PS, Philippe de Villiers in the UDF, and Charles Pasqua in the RPR, who chose to leave their respective parties. How can joining the opposition to a treaty constitute a strategy, and sometimes a last-ditch attempt to rise to a position of power within one’s political camp? Daring to oppose European treaties can first heighten a politician’s profile and even propel him or her into the limelight, since most of the governing parties’ leaders support the treaties. Joining the opposition is a way of asserting oneself 204 O. ROZENBERG and of reminding the leadership that one can rock the boat. Lang’s provi- sional ‘no’ in 1998 can be interpreted in this way. When Jospin named his ministerial team in 1997, he chose not to call on the services of Mitterrand’s former Minister of Culture. Lang, having been elected president of the Foreign Affairs Committee, sought Jospin’s attention by writing a piece for Le Monde in which he advocated the rejection of the Amsterdam Treaty. Eventually, in March 2000, he was offered the post of Minister of Education, replacing Claude Allègre. This kind of opposition to treaties can also be noticed in the media at times when the public’s attention is drawn towards European issues, namely during referendum campaigns. Second, Europe is a policy area where both the left and the right have compromised. Therefore, opposition to Europe can be framed in terms of loyalty to a political family (Gaullist) or an ideology (socialist). The act of opposing a treaty can be presented not as a manoeuvre to obtain a senior party position, but more positively as part of a struggle for an ideal of ideologist purity. From the outsider’s perspective, the European credo offers a unique opportunity for drawing attention to the weaknesses and compromises of the incumbent leader of his or her camp. Such a strategy is risky, not only because it may make an individual appear less statesmanlike, but also because it offers no guarantee of success. It depends on the degree of internal democracy in one’s political camp—Chirac’s image suffered less at the time of the Maastricht Treaty than Hollande’s over the Constitutional Treaty. Additionally, parliamentary party groups are strategic areas where the success or failure of internal revolts are determined, as can be seen from what happened to Séguin in 1998, Fabius in 2004, and Bayrou the year after.

The Outsider Cast Aside: The Fall of Philippe Séguin The treatment of the European question in the French Parliament contributed to the rise of Philippe Séguin in 1992, but also to his fall from grace in 1998. When the Maastricht Treaty was under examination, the MP for the Vosges skilfully took on the mantle of sovereigntist orator. Six years later, as party leader, his bid to challenge the leader of the governing coalition, then-head of state Chirac, ended in failure. As seen in the previous chapter, his defence of a motion during the constitutional revision prior to the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty on 5 May 1992 made a lasting impression on many of those present, including the sovereigntist Nicole Catala—‘He made a really impressive speech’—and the federalist 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 205

Laurence Dumont, who was assistant to the Socialist group at the time: ‘I will not forget Séguin’s speech to the National Assembly in a hurry […] what is more, it is such a rarity to have major debates on Europe in the Assembly. This made it quite a special moment’. Séguin’s late-night, two-and-a-half- hour speech came out in book form a few weeks after it was delivered (Séguin 1992) and led him to prominence on the French political scene, to the point where he was chosen to confront President Mitterrand in a crucial televised debate just a few days before the referendum. This incident demonstrates that, despite the discipline imposed on the majority, the lack of media interest, the absenteeism of MPs, and, more generally, the ‘end of the monopoly on public debate which Parliament had fought hard to win and had jealously guarded’ (Roussellier 1997, p. 10), the French National Assembly can on occasion provide the forum wherein a political maverick, by expressing some widely held concerns, becomes a major player. Séguin rose to prominence thanks to Parliament, but it was in the very same setting, six years later, that his strategy to distance the RPR from President Chirac failed. In April 1998, the fortunes of the right, and in particular those of their leader Chirac, were at a particularly low ebb. After only two years in office, Chirac had lost not only the 1997 parliamentary elections, which he had instigated, but also control of the RPR, when Séguin wrested its leadership from Juppé. On 25 March 1998, the European Commission made public its recommendations regarding the shift to the common currency, to be put before the European Council in Brussels on 2 May. France’s qualification for the euro was proposed. Barrau, who was Vice-Chair of the Delegation at the time, reacted promptly by presenting a report and draft resolution on these documents on 2 April. It is worth mentioning that, although this episode received a great deal of coverage in the press, the name of Barrau never appeared, confirming the difficulty of obtaining media attention for members of the Delegation for the EU. After examination, first by the Delegation, then the Finance Committee, the majority decided on 13 April that the resolution would be adopted through a floor debate followed by a vote, scheduled for 21 April. On 14 April, the Elysée announced that President Chirac would hold a press conference on Europe. This unusual initiative was interpreted as showing the President’s desire to take up a position on European developments. On 16 April, Chirac acknowledged the continuity established in French policy on Europe and spoke of his and the government’s ‘common appreciation’. This ran counter to the RPR leader’s 206 O. ROZENBERG strategy of total opposition to the government. The RPR parliamentary group had initially planned to support the resolution and to call on a pro- European Chirac supporter, Hervé Gaymard, to make a speech. On the morning of 21 April, at a meeting held in the offices of the RPR parliamentary group, Séguin, with the support of his general secretary, Sarkozy, succeeded in getting a new position adopted: the RPR group would vote against the resolution to demonstrate its refusal to back the Jospin government’s economic policy. This particular scenario is a clear demonstration of the multidimension- ality of European issues. The initial position of the RPR consisted of asserting that the proposal concerned support for the euro. Séguin in his memories likened the procedure, to which he had given his wholehearted support during the previous Parliament, to a ‘skilful subterfuge’ (Séguin 2003, p. 481), and tried to equate support for the proposal not with the euro but with the Jospin government. This strategy could have been understood as Séguin’s way of tabling a censure motion against the head of state President Chirac. The fact that the resolution was not a text initiated by the government, referring to one of its projects, which members of the governing party would therefore have been expected to support and opposition members reject, paved the way for any number of interpretations. It appears that the conflict of interpretations is not limited to the understanding of the resolution but also of the actors’ strategies. For many, Séguin’s position was a veiled ploy to challenge the leadership of the head of state, or at least distance himself from the Elysée. That was certainly the way Chirac supporters interpreted Séguin’s decision to reject the resolution. The debate in the Assembly began at 4:30 pm on 21 April 1998.8 It was the first time since the beginning of the 11th Parliament that a resolution was debated in a public session. It was also the first time that Jospin stood before Parliament to make a speech since his investiture on 19 June 1997. Indeed, he was only accustomed to taking questions from MPs while seated at his place on the benches of the National Assembly, keeping his answers short. Jospin skilfully avoided mounting a defence of government policy. He went so far as to distance himself from the text which had been given to the press when he said: ‘Nobody should be under the impression that tomorrow’s vote is a vote for or against the government’s programme. If the RPR group believes this, allow me to disabuse them of that notion’. Several other MPs took their turns speaking. Valéry Giscard d’Estaing, who was an MP at the time, Philippe Séguin, and Robert Hue, leader of 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 207 the communist party, realised that they were due to speak late in the evening. Their scheduled times were pushed back as Philippe de Villiers made an hour-long speech thanks to a pre-debate procedure, something he regularly did during parliamentary debates on Europe. These speakers decided to postpone giving their speeches until the next day, when there would be more MPs in the chamber. The next day, 22 April, the RPR parliamentary group held its regular Wednesday morning private meeting. Eighty MPs were present. The sovereigntist backbenchers, numbering just under 20, did not attend the meeting, indicating that Chirac’s counterattack had not been anticipated. Juppé, who had not been present at the previous day’s meeting, made the following statement, which was reported in the press: ‘I read the deliberations [sic] regarding the switch to the Euro. There is not a single word in them which shocks me. Our policy has always been that France would be part of the euro zone and, now that we are on the point of joining it, we are supposed to say no. This is quite incomprehensible’.9 After a tense internal debate, the MPs voted to determine the group’s position: 33 MPs against 31 decided not to participate in the vote and to table a censure motion. Séguin, leader of the RPR, was disowned by the parliamentary group of the RPR. Newspaper headline writers were quick to point out that ‘Juppé got the better of Séguin’10 or that ‘Juppé got his revenge on Philippe Séguin’.11 The press speculated extensively about the role Chirac may or may not have played. Did he set a trap for Séguin, or merely react to Séguin’s attack? Or did he leave some of his underlings to deal with the problem? Whether it was Chirac or Séguin who initiated this ‘showdown’, the important questions to analyse are, first, why their differences of opinion emerged into the open, and, second, why the matter was resolved with one emerging victorious and the other defeated, in Parliament and on a European matter. The double uncertainty—surrounding both the status of the resolution as a procedural instrument and European affairs in public debate—had been exploited in such a way as to use the debate over the euro to undermine the leadership of the RPR. The parliamentary context was a crucial element in three respects. First, it obliged the political party to take a clear stance on the issue at hand. Since the Maastricht Treaty, the RPR had carefully avoided discussing Europe. The announcement that the resolution was to be examined on the floor forced the party leadership to take a position, both on the substance of the issue and the matter of party discipline. In this sense, the 208 O. ROZENBERG resolution acted as a constraint more on the parliamentary groups than on the government. Second, internal clashes tend to occur and be resolved within the parliamentary group, given the decisive importance of the number of MPs who support a given leading party figure for the constitution of their political capital. When Séguin managed to induce the parliamentary group to oppose the resolution, he seemed to be gaining the upper hand. By taking the opposite position when, at the last minute, he advised colleagues not to vote, Juppé challenged Séguin’s ascendancy. In fact, most of the parliamentary group were Chirac’s supporters. In June 1997, they had elected a close ally of Chirac, Jean-Louis Debré, leader of the group, against the candidate unofficially supported by Séguin. In this way, Chirac progressively regained control of the political party he had founded by means of its parliamentary group. On 25 April, three days after the resolution was examined, Séguin announced at a meeting of RPR leaders that he would be unlikely stand for re-election as party leader at the beginning of the following year.12 Lastly, Parliament is not merely a neutral place where previously established power relations are played out. The symbolic importance of the parliamentary stage contributes to the dramatisation of internal conflict. Parliamentary groups are a classic case of ‘emotional areas’ (Fineman 1993) governed by relationships of loyalty and disloyalty. A politician can rise to prominence or ‘lose face’ there, leave covered in glory or be humiliated. To quote the words attributed to Philippe Séguin at the RPR meeting on 25 April: ‘I allowed myself to be humiliated to safeguard the important thing, a unanimous vote’ (Angeli and Mesnier 1999, p.77). The numerical superiority of MPs loyal to Chirac in the RPR group forced the leader of the party at the last moment to endorse the opposite strategy from the one he had originally devised. Thus, Séguin ‘lost face’ in front of his own people, the group in which he had been a key figure since 1978, had made his name in the early 1980s, and had risen to even greater prominence in the early 1990s. His humiliation was exacerbated by the public nature of the parliamentary crises. Séguin did not experience failure alone in an office watching television, as he might have done on an election night, but in front of three successive audiences: the RPR MPs in the private meeting, the gathering of MPs when he made his speech on the floor of the National Assembly, and more generally in the court of public opinion, since these events received a great deal of media attention. 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 209

In conclusion, the events surrounding the vote of the resolution on the euro in April 1998 demonstrated that the issue of Europe could be exploited during internal power struggles within political parties. The parliamentary stage proved to be a strategic, symbolically saturated, location, where this kind of conflict was incarnated, exacerbated and resolved. In the logic of parliamentary systems, opposition between party leaders has a quantitative outcome when the MPs express their support for one leader or another. The Palais-Bourbon is where each general recruits his lieuten- ants. The Assembly is certainly no longer the ‘Parliament of eloquence’ for which some harbour feelings of nostalgia. Nevertheless, it is not simply an empty relic of the past. The manoeuvring and drama played out there are more than a series of episodes and controversies rendered sterile by the closure of the political field. Parliamentary clashes and ‘coups’ not only have bearing on which individuals rise to leadership positions, but also influence policy decisions. In this case, the parliamentary right succeeded in the late 1990s in progressively marginalising or silencing sovereigntist criticism of European integration.

The Victorious Outsider: The Return of Laurent Fabius At the beginning of September 2004, Laurent Fabius broke a taboo by announcing that he was opposed to the treaty establishing a Constitution for Europe. This strategy was unveiled just as the leader of the PS, François Hollande, fresh from the triumph of the March 2004 regional elections and the success of the local and European elections the same year, was hinting that he might stand in the forthcoming presidential election. Adopting a ‘no’ stance regarding the treaty referendum enabled Fabius to build his bid for the leadership of the Socialists around the issue of Europe. By labelling the constitution a ‘liberal’ project, Fabius implicitly accused members of the Socialist party who supported the ‘yes’ vote of moving towards the centre. Since governments of the right and the left generally back European treaties, opposing the treaty enabled Fabius to establish his left-wing credentials with activists and the electorate. The number two of the PS could therefore aspire to unite the minority groups in the PS—the left streams within the party, and even the parties to the left of the PS, the Communist Party and the Trotskyites—despite the fact that his stints as Prime Minister (1984–1986) and Finance Minister (2000–2002) had earned him the reputation of being a moderate centre-left leader. Laurent Fabius’s ‘no’ was certainly risky and harmful to his personal image, leaving 210 O. ROZENBERG him open to accusations that he was putting the European project in jeopardy. Fabius adopted this stance at a moment when his chances of being chosen as the Socialist candidate in the 2007 presidential election looked very slim. At that time, he was relatively isolated in the party as the leader of a so-called current of the PS that had been inactive for a decade. Despite his best efforts, he was still an unpopular figure. At the age of 58, he was staking his whole political future on his support for the ‘no’ vote, while his rivals for the leadership of his party—Hollande, Strauss-Kahn, Lang, and Aubry—had all declared their support of the treaty. Fabius’s strategy received considerable press coverage, but seemed destined to fail when, on the evening of 1 December 2004, 58.9% of the approximately 100,000 PS activists who attended to express their views on the treaty gave it their support. Nevertheless, Fabius was bolstered after the referendum of 29 May 2005, not only because of the result, but also because exit polls indicated that, unlike for the Maastricht vote, a majority of Socialist supporters had rejected the treaty. Although he was defeated in the presidential primaries the following year, his strategy had proven at least partially successful. No longer was he perceived as the eternal former ‘youngest-ever French Prime Minister’, or as one of the defendants in the infected blood scandal in 1999, or as Jospin’s Minister suspected of espousing liberalism.13 He had transformed himself into a leading left- wing proponent of ‘another Europe’. In a way, the fact that he was named Foreign Affairs Minister in 2012 by Hollande constitutes an acknowledg- ment of this recovery. The Socialist parliamentary group in the National Assembly played a key role in Fabius’ moment of success. This manifested itself in three ways. First, in the weeks following Fabius’s announcement, the support of his allies in Parliament proved invaluable. When Lang had threatened to oppose the Amsterdam Treaty, he quickly found himself isolated. In contrast, Fabius’s iconoclastic choice was lent credibility by the fact that most of the MPs closest to him remain loyal, and that in the parliamentary group, opposition to the treaty was widespread. Only three of the 19 MPs who could be reliably identified as ‘Fabiusians’14 supported the ‘yes’ vote. On the day before the internal consultation carried out by the PS, 1 December 2004, 77 of the 141 members of the parliamentary group declared themselves in favour of the ‘yes’ vote and 61 for the ‘no’. The position of the parliamentary party therefore vindicated Fabius’s stance. He emerged not as an isolated outsider trying his luck but as a prominent figure who, within the Assembly, enjoyed the direct support of around 20 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 211 allies, the implicit support of 20 members of the majority of the party, and the potential support of 20 MPs from minoritarian currents in the PS. When examined closely, the motivations for the cohesion and internal loyalty within the different Socialist streams prove subtler than the following statement from the Socialist MEP Pervenche Berès would suggest: ‘Whether he [Fabius] had said yes or no, I would have agreed with him’.15 Although the principle of loyalty to one’s leader prevails, each leader must take into account what would and would not be acceptable to his or her troops. In this case, several Fabiusian MPs had preceded their ‘boss’ in publicly criticising the European Constitution as early as summer 2004. Second, MPs’ support is vital, given their intrinsic eligibility.16 The clear majority of MPs hold another political mandate, often at both the executive and municipal levels. They generally have well-established grass-roots links and access to the local media, and play a key, even dominant, role at the local level of the party. MPs are not merely messengers whose job it is to ‘pass on the good word’ to the grass roots. They embody the constituency they represent. The support of an MP enables a political leader to rely indirectly on a piece of French territory, along with its local media, its elected representatives, its activists, and its associations. This unique parliamentary eligibility makes the support of the parliamentary group crucial to the outcome of internal struggles. In 2004 and 2005, the 141 members of the Socialist group in the Assembly did not align themselves only with their respective leaders but also with their local activists and their local electorate. Whether MPs take up positions under the influence of local opinion or help persuade activists and constituents to vote yes or no, the two processes probably operate simultaneously. They suggest that an MP does not just speak in an individual capacity but on behalf of social groups. Political sociologists remind us, quite rightly, that the claims of professional politicians to be spokespeople must be de-objectified.17 MPs attempt to embody their role as much as they can and tend to naturalise their potential eligibility. It nonetheless remains the case that they belong to an institution that grants them the right to speak. MPs work hard to familiarise themselves with their constituencies and can anticipate how various sectors of the electorate will react. Furthermore, they have very detailed knowledge of how the local party works. In short, MPs know their ‘patch’. The analysis of the correlation of choices made by Socialist MPs with the voting of PS activists on 1 December 2004 and the electorate on 29 May 2005 supports the above thesis. The proportions of Socialist activists for and against the treaty are similar to those within the parliamentary 212 O. ROZENBERG group: around 55% of Socialist MPs and 59% of activists expressed their support for the European Constitution. In the 55 metropolitan départe- ments where at least one Socialist MP was elected in 2002, the rate of correlation between the choices of activists and the choices of the MPs by département was a considerable 0.48.18 In the 10 départements with the highest proportion of party activists in favour of the treaty, there were 15 MPs in favour of the treaty and three opposed to it. The proportions were reversed in the ten départements where activists were most opposed to the treaty (16 MPs who opposed the treaty compared to five or six who supported it). Moving on from the internal consultation of the Socialists to the referendum of 29 May 2005, the distribution at the département level of Socialist MPs who supported the Constitution and those who opposed it was also consistent with the way the French electorate voted. The rate of correlation was identical: 0.48.19 The biggest ‘yes’ vote was in Paris, where 66% of voters in the referendum supported the Treaty and eight Socialist MPs voted ‘Yes’, while only two Socialist MPs opposed it. On the other hand, the département where opposition to the treaty was greatest—Pas- de-Calais, where 69% voted against it—was also where the highest number of Socialist MPs were opposed to the treaty: seven, with just four supporting the ‘yes’ vote. Third, Parliament also provided Fabius and other Socialist rebels with a platform to expose the shortcomings of their party chief, Hollande, whose handling of the parliamentary votes on the European Constitution gave rise to doubts over his leadership qualities. Party discipline in a parliamentary system involves both sanctions that are difficult to apply (such as the refusal to back an incumbent MP) and the incorporation of an obedience norm understood in terms of loyalty and disloyalty. Whether or not instructions on how to vote are respected is therefore of great symbolic importance. When the party leadership expresses the wish that MPs follow their voting instructions, their legitimacy—understood in terms of their ability to be obeyed without having to resort to coercion—is put to the test. Therefore disobedience to an instruction to follow official party voting policy is tantamount to a challenge against the current party leader, especially if the outcome of the vote is in doubt and/or the issue is receiving a good deal of media coverage. Therefore, Hollande’s authority appears to have been weakened during the parliamentary examination of the Constitutional revision undertaken prior to the ratification procedure of the treaty establishing a European constitution in February 2005. Parliamentary discipline is a particularly strong norm within the PS and is 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 213 maintained through a range of sanctions that are regularly applied when international and European matters are at stake. Examples of this include the suspension of the right to speak in the name of the party, imposed in 1992 on opponents of the Gulf War; the reprimand handed down in 1998 to opponents of the resolution concerning the switch to the Euro, mentioned above; and the reprimand given in 2003 to opponents of EU enlargement (Lecomte et al. 2017). The day after the internal referendum of the PS on 1 December 2004, the question of parliamentary discipline arose, both for the French MEPs, who had to vote in January on a report on the treaty, and the French MPs, who were to examine the revision of the Constitution prior to the referendum. When, at the meeting of the national council of the PS on 4 December 2004, Senator Jean-Luc Mélenchon (a Socialist until 2008 before he created his own party) spoke emotionally of internal conflict between honouring his convictions and remaining loyal to the party, Hollande, by way of reply, reminded him that the ‘mandate [of a Socialist MP] belongs to the Party’.20 It was quickly established that MPs who supported the ‘no’ vote could abstain, but should not vote against the treaty or the revision of the Constitution. This instruction, which was reinforced by explicit threats regarding party endorsements, was followed by every Socialist MP, except for Marc Dolez (see Table 7.1). Hollande doubtless managed to avoid the worst-case scenario, namely a split in the PS parliamentary group. Nevertheless, his hesitation over voting instructions and the sanctions imposed, if any, as well as his implicit authorisation of MPs to abstain, demonstrated that he was not sufficiently able to impose his authority on his troops. His claims to be a suitable candidate for French President were thus undermined.

Table 7.1 The positioning of Socialist MPs regarding the constitutional treaty and the constitutional revision prior to its ratification

For Against Abstention Did not Not take part identified

Internal 01/12/2004 77 61 – – 3 referendum National 01/02/2005 87 – 51 3 – Assembly Congress 28/02/2005 83 1 52 5 –

Source: Referendum = my research; Assembly and Congress = JORF 214 O. ROZENBERG

François Bayrou’s Eurosceptic Bracket Bayrou is a well-known centrist politician. In 1998, he took the leadership of the UDF party created by the pro-European Giscard in 1978 when he was President of the Republic. An episode in Bayrou’s career from 2004 offers a last example of how high-flyer politicians may strategically place blame on Europe. Bayrou was not against a European treaty, but he challenged the leadership of the right by President Chirac by condemning Chirac’s support for the Turkish membership into the EU. If the position Bayrou developed cannot be qualified as Eurosceptic, as many federalists stood against this candidacy, the type of discourse he adopted nonetheless evokes a sovereigntist style. For the UDF, which was renamed MoDem in 2007, playing the European card was part of a strategy to distinguish itself on the right from the RPR, which subsequently became the UMP. A historical fringe within the UDF opposed the building of Europe: for example, François d’Aubert, Christine Boutin, Alain Griotteray, André Rossi, and Philippe de Villiers all voted against the 1992 constitutional revision prior to the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty. However, the party presented itself as the most pro-European on the political landscape from the moment Bayrou succeeded François Léotard as party leader in 1998 by affirming his determination to build a major centrist party, independent from its Gaullist ally, the UMP, that would unite people as different as, in his words, ‘Edouard Balladur and Jacques Delors’. European commitment, in particular commitment to the federalist goal, constituted the major rationale for Bayrou’s ‘third way’. Bayrou, a former advisor at the EP’s presidency (1984–1986) to Pierre Pflimlin, headed his own list for the 1999 European elections despite pressure from the rest of the right. From 1998 to 2002, the question of Europe was highlighted to promote party unity, in contrast with the divisions among the Gaullists. From 2002 on, Europe served to justify the UDF’s refusal to blend with the UMP. In contrast, the centre-right rather neglected decentralisation, normally another issue at the heart of its identity, since then-Prime Minister Jean-Pierre Raffarin had decided to make it his priority. In early 2017 as well, Bayrou put emphasis on European integration when justifying his support of Emmanuel Macron’s candidacy. However, the defence of federalist utopia from the benches of the Assembly was rapidly revealed as unrewarding, given the small number of posts available within the Assembly, the difficulty of standing out in any 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 215 significant way by adopting a pro-European stance, and the limited media coverage of European activities in the National Assembly. The fact that the President of the Convention came to the National Assembly in 2002, as mentioned above, undoubtedly provided an occasion for Guigou and Bayrou to speak, but the journalists’ summaries were terse and mostly focussed on the decrease in the number of MPs present as the session advanced. In another example of this lack of recognition, in April 1998, the Assembly passed the resolution on the euro discussed earlier in this chapter. Bayrou, an MP at the time, remained present in the corridors of the Palais-Bourbon and on the rostrum in an attempt to take advantage of the divisions among the Gaullists. However, the media paid little attention to him, concentrating instead on the most newsworthy element, i.e. the RPR. Under the title ‘Les leçons de constance de l’UDF’ (Lessons on constancy from the UDF), a front-page article in Le Monde thus described Bayrou:

Nothing irritates him more than the RPR. So, on Wednesday 22 April, when he had to underline the dilemmas and equivocations of his ally, Bayrou spoke again and again to journalists. Already the day before, whereas the RPR group’s bureau had just decided to vote against the resolution on the euro, Bayrou took great pleasure in saying that the UDF “would not equiv- ocate on Europe”. When it finally came out that the RPR preferred quite simply not to vote, Bayrou, again, indulged in one of the simple pleasures of politics: knocking your best ally when he’s down. “We were in favour of the euro when we were in government, how could we be against it today?”21

Media coverage was not only minimal but quite counter-productive. It focussed on an irreverent reading of Bayrou’s attitude, his taste for the media, and the satisfaction, deemed puerile, which he drew from attacking the RPR. The controversy that followed the 1999 European elections forced Bayrou to leave the Assembly. When he returned in 2002, the desire to distance himself from the UMP, which had just been created, and the marginalisation of the sovereigntists on the right induced Bayrou to be more critical in his remarks about European affairs. Thus, in October 2004, just a few months before the referendum on the treaty to establish a European Constitution, Bayrou orchestrated a veritable press campaign against allowing Turkey to join the Union. He called for the commitment of a confidence vote, asked many oral questions on the subject, and demanded the passage of a resolution on the opening of negotiations for 216 O. ROZENBERG membership. Some of his addresses to Parliament at the time recall the sovereigntists’ somewhat inflamed monologues as, for example, the question below, addressed to Raffarin from the benches of the National Assembly:

Prime Minister, between now and 17 December, Europe will make one of the most important decisions of this century when it votes on whether to admit Turkey into the European Union [shouts from the UMP benches]. Many of us know, contrary to what some people are saying, that the decision to be made by the Council on 17 December will be irreversible. Furthermore, since it requires a unanimous vote of the Member States, it is a decision that will be made with the approval of France. For many of us this issue calls into question the identity, even the very nature of Europe. If Turkey, a non- European country, were to become part of the European Union, the European project would be irreversibly transformed and Europe, heteroge- neous and lacking in unity, would no longer be able to play the role we expect of it, that of a major player on the world stage. Until today, France has consistently and actively supported this country’s [Turkey’s] bid for membership of the EU. It is surprising and shocking that no debate has been held in our Parliament to determine whether this position enjoys the support of the French people.22

Bayrou used rhetorical ingredients characteristic of sovereigntist discourse in this speech: hyperbole (‘one of the most important decisions of this century’), accusations of plotting (negotiations inevitably leading to Turkey joining the EU), the revealing of the truth behind the rumours (‘contrary to what some people are saying’), veiled references to guilty parties (the ‘people’ in ‘what some people are saying’), the apocalyptic prophesy (the end of a powerful Europe) and the defence of French Parliament’s rights. A further radicalisation brought Bayrou’s strategy even closer to the sovereigntist credo when he raised the possibility of tabling a motion of censure against the government. With the combined support of rebel UMP MPs and, less openly, of the Sarkozyists opposed to Jacques Chirac’s pro-Turkey stance, Bayrou finally forced the executive to organise a debate in the two chambers on the eve of the 17 December 2004 meeting of the European Council. However, the government managed to avoid a parliamentary vote by arguing that the Commission’s report, which recommended the opening of accession negotiations, was not of legal nature, even if a vote could have been authorised using the so-called optional clause.23 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 217

In the short term, this activism undoubtedly benefitted Bayrou. After making several appearances in the media and raising the matter in parliamentary questions, he succeeded in having it debated on 14 October 2004, when he took the opportunity to make a long speech in the presence of all the assembled party leaders and a full press box. Like a Hollywood star who can choose the scripts and director of his film, the leader of the UDF engineered a parliamentary event which placed him centre-stage. A section of public opinion reacted favourably to his performance: the percentage of participants in a Sofres poll who ‘wanted François Bayrou to play a more prominent role in the coming months and years’ rose by 11 points in December 2004. Le Figaro led with an article entitled ‘Bayrou benefits from the “Turkey effect”’.24 Nevertheless, Bayrou’s anti- Turkey crusade threw into sharp relief the unsuitability of the national Parliament as a forum for defending pro-European positions. Instead of praising the federalist project, Bayrou launched into a series of diatribes declaring his opposition to the accession of Turkey, speaking at some length and in sovereigntist terms of the rights of Parliament. Indeed, the first third of his speech was given over to a somewhat bombastic defence of the powers of the legislature:

Otherwise, what is the point of the French people electing 577 MPs and 331 Senators, what is the point of all this pomp and ceremony, all these statues, caryatids, marbles, and bronzes if we are prevented from representing the beliefs of the French people and prevented from taking the risk— because it is a risk—of speaking out when an issue of fundamental importance is at stake?25

In fact, it is unclear whether, in the long run, this episode made Bayrou seem more statesmanlike or enhanced his public image. Once the Turkish affair had been forgotten, his popularity ratings fell as sharply as they had previously risen. As Fig. 7.1 indicates, his standing in the polls in June 2005, at the time of the referendum, had fallen to about the same level as a year before.

* * *

Whatever the implications of the term, the European question remains a marginal resource for ambitious MPs to accumulate political capital. Few individuals who have chosen this route have attained a ministerial position. 218 O. ROZENBERG

28 June July August Sept. Oct. Nov. Dec. Jan. Feb. March April May June 2004 2004 2004 2004 2004 2004 2004 2005 2005 2005 2005 2005 2005

Fig. 7.1 Change in Bayrou’s approval ratings between June 2004 and June 2005 (%). Source: TNS Sofres/Figaro-Magazine. The question asked was: ‘Could you tell me if you would like to see him [Bayrou] play an important role in the coming months and years?’

Except for the post of European Commissioner, which now only becomes available once every five years, the most sought-after jobs are elsewhere. The careers of Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande show that for political heavyweights, ignorance of EU institutions and affairs is not necessarily a major obstacle. MPs who do take an interest in Europe, or an area of public policy which has become Europeanised, enjoy neither high profiles nor the best opportunities to join the government. Indeed, those who do choose to specialise in Europe tend not to be careerists. Ambitious individuals who play the European card are usually outsiders who are attracted by the fact that Europe can offer them a route to greater visibility through breaking the consensus around it. The fact that European issues mobilise outsiders rather than favourites indicates how peripheral the EU is as a political resource. The European question therefore illustrates the mimetic subjectivity of the very notion of political success. European issues do not advance careers, and European-level jobs are not regarded as the endgame of a successful career because, when all is said and done, French political leaders do not regard Europe as being worthy of their attention and energies. In a word, Europe is not sexy. For those attacking their party leaders by rejecting European treaties, Parliament plays a major role. The cruciality of backbenchers as a political 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 219 leader’s resources, the symbolic weight of the parliamentary milieu, and its inescapable, continuous weekly cycles all contribute to Parliament’s enduring importance. The Palais-Bourbon and the Palais du Luxembourg are above all physical places where the political elites meet, take one another’s measure, issue challenges, and humiliate or lavish praise on one another week after week. Moreover, an analysis of the stances of Socialist MPs on the treaty establishing a constitution for Europe demonstrates their representative nature from both party activists’ and citizens’ perspectives. Therefore, despite the existence of divergences overall—78% of MPs supported the constitutional treaty compared to 31% of voters—this congruence permits us to attenuate the view that national political representatives are out of step with the public over European questions. Notwithstanding the conclusion that European issues can be exploited by political outsiders, the diagnosis that Europe is generally neglected by the political agenda still holds true. While the issue of Europe can be used to demonstrate opposition to the leader of one’s political camp, and even to challenge them for leadership roles, it rarely comes into play in competition between political parties. This decoupling between internal party struggles and electoral politics is no coincidence.26 The European inflec- tion of internal criticism is more pronounced because it enables an opponent of the leadership to express dissent without risk of being accused of aligning themselves with the opposing coalition. Indeed, it may even offer the opportunity to condemn their party leader for precisely this alignment. The censorship exercised by the political field over EU issues is exacerbated by the fact that the main political parties and coalitions are divided internally over Europe. The high degree of Europeanisation of interior conflicts and the low degree of Europeanisation of external struggles thus constitute two aspects of the same process, whereby not only the unity but also the identity and credibility of the main political groupings are undermined. In addition, the low potential for strategic gain offered by getting involved in either the special procedures used to monitor EU affairs or the defence of a federalist position is an indication that the National Assembly does not operate as a neutral arena but, in fact, works to the advantage of opponents of European integration. The changes in Bayrou’s pronounce- ments on Europe over time supply evidence of this tendency. Therefore, while the majority of French MPs are pro-European, MPs who want to play the Europe card to further their career are obliged to be critical. In 2017, the accession to the presidency by Macron on a pro-EU discourse 220 O. ROZENBERG seemingly did not change this dynamic, as Marcon’s candidacy was built far outside Parliament, if not against it.

Notes 1. For Searing, one quarter of House of Commons backbenchers were ministerial aspirants and were further divided into subalterns and high flyers (1994, chapter 3). 2. Moreover, Barrau, who was Mayor of Béziers from 1989 to 1995 and then leader of the municipal opposition had to rally round Jean-Claude Gayssot’s (Communist) candidature for Mayor of Béziers in 2001. Jospin’s Minister for Transport failed on this occasion. 3. Law no. 2000-108 of 10 February 2000. 4. Searing notes moreover that the most ambitious MPs are careful not to over-specialise: ‘When specialization is carried too far, aspirants become identified with particular hobbyhorses and risk riding on the backbenches rather than running in the race’ (1994, p. 95). 5. After its first reading at the Assembly on 2 March 1999, the bill on electricity was approved by 258 MPs against 239 and 50 voluntary abstentions; 28 of the 35 members of the Communist group abstained. The opening of the gas market to competition was transposed during the following Parliament by Law no. 2004-803 of 9 August 2004, which the Socialists and Communists opposed. 6. Source: Beauvallet and Michon (2016). 7. ‘De l”extimité’ en politique: Alain Juppé et son blog-notes’, Pierre Sadran, Le Monde, 15 January 2005. 8. This account is based on articles in the Figaro, Le Monde, and Libération. 9. Libération, 23 April 1998, and Le Monde, 24 April 1998. 10. Libération, 23 April 1998. 11. Le Monde, 24 April 1998. 12. He nevertheless decided to stand for candidacy and was re-elected in December 1998 before resigning during the European elections campaign in April 1999. 13. Fabius was 38 when he was named Prime Minister by Mitterrand in 1984. The infected blood scandal was related to HIV transmission caused by blood transfusion. Fabius was acquitted for it in 1999. From 2000 to 2002, he was Minister for Economy, Finance, and Industry within the government led by Jospin. 14. From signatures given at the PS Congress in Dijon in May 2003. 15. Le Monde, 19 October 2004. 16. On the introduction of the ethnological concept of eligibility to French MPs: Costa and Kerrouche (2007, pp. 12–18). 7 THE CAREER POLITICIAN: THE EUROPEANISATION OF POLITICAL… 221

17. ‘The work of representation of political professionals on social issues involves the public and disputed bringing into play of the right to speak’ (Collovald and Gaïti 1990, p. 33). See also Bourdieu (1981). 18. Pearson’s R. The choice of MPs in each département is calculated by sub- tracting the number of MPs in favour and against the treaty in each département. 19. This is the rate of correlation between the level of the ‘Yes’ vote and the difference between the MPs in favour of and opposed to the Treaty in each of the 58 French départements where at least one socialist MP was elected (Pearson’s R). 20. Source: public archives of the PS. 21. Le Monde, 24 April 1998. 22. JORF, AN, CR, second session, Tuesday 5 October 2004, p. 7466. 23. See Chap. 2: until 2008, the Assemblies could adopt resolutions (and therefore vote) only for draft EU legislation within the field of law (and not regulation) according to the French Constitution’s definition of legal purview. Yet, from 1999, the government had the possibility (but not the obligation) to submit any other text to the Parliament for passing a resolution. It was referred to as the optional clause. 24. Le Figaro, 3 January 2005. 25. JORF, AN, CR, 15 October 2004, p. 7941. 26. Also alluded to by Parsons (2007).

References Abélès, M. (2001). Un ethnologue à l’Assemblée. Paris: Odile Jacob. Angeli, C., & Mesnier, S. (1999). Fort Chirac. Paris: Grasset. Auel, K., Eisele, O., & Kinsky, L. (2016). From Constraining to Catalysing Dissensus? The Impact of Political Contestation on Parliamentary Communication in EU Affairs. Comparative European Politics, 14(2), 154–176. Beauvallet, W., & Michon, S. (2013). MEPs: Toward a Specialization of European Political Work? In D. Georgakakis & J. Rowell (Eds.), The Field of Eurocracy. Mapping EU Actors and Professionals (pp. 16–34). Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Beauvallet, W., & Michon, S. (2016). The Changing Paths of Access to the European Parliament for French MEPs (1979–2014). French Politics, 14(3), 329–362. Bourdieu, P. (1981). La représentation politique. Éléments pour une théorie du champ politique. Actes de la Recherche en sciences sociales, 36–37, 3–24. Collovald, A., & Gaïti, B. (1990). Discours sous surveillances. Le social à l’Assemblée. In D. Gaxie et al. (Eds.), Le ‘Social’ transfiguré (pp. 9–54). Paris: Presses Universitaires de France. 222 O. ROZENBERG

Costa, O., & Kerrouche, E. (2007). Qui sont les députés français? Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Fineman, S. (1993). Organizations as Emotional Arenas. In S. Fineman (Ed.), Emotion in Organizations (pp. 9–35). London: Sage. Georgakakis, D., & Rowell, J. (Eds.). (2013). The Field of Eurocracy. Mapping EU Actors and Professionals. Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan. Girard, R. (1977). Violence and the Sacred. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press. Lecomte, D., Bouvard, H., Perez, D., & Boelaert, J. (2017). Le respect de la boutique. L’étiolement de la discipline partisane dans le groupe parlementaire socialiste au cours de la 14e législature (2012–2017). Politix, 117(1), 171–199. Parsons, C. (2007). Puzzling Out the EU Role in National Politics. Journal of European Public Policy, 14(7), 1135–1149. Roussellier, N. (1997). Le Parlement de l’éloquence. Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Schumpeter, J. (2003 [1943]). Capitalism, Socialism and Democracy. London: Routledge. Searing, D. (1994). Westminster’s World. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Séguin, P. (1992). Discours pour la France. Paris: Grasset. Séguin, P. (2003). Itinéraire dans la France d’en bas, d’en haut et d’ailleurs. Paris: Seuil. Wauquiez, L. (2014). Europe: il faut tout changer. Paris: O. Jacob. CHAPTER 8

The European Specialist in Search of a Role

‘If you want to be seen, you need to specialise’ is an oft repeated mantra in the corridors of both the French National Assembly and the Senate. The idea is that that working for a long time in a specific sector can be the key to obtaining influence and access to journalists and ministers. From this perspective, public policies result from complex interactions in which, to be a player, one needs to be knowledgeable and persistent. One way MPs can emerge from the anonymity of the backbenches is by making a name for themselves as specialists in a field. Imputation of expert status in a certain sector is therefore particularly crucial, given its implications for identity and strategy. To achieve this, an MP needs to have a long-term strategy and to develop specific self-presentation skills. Reputations and the use of symbols come into play. In short, the mantle of expert status is part of the formalisation of a parliamentary role, in the sense of the motivational approach. Searing (1994, chapter 2) has identified the sub-role of specialist among policy advocates. In his view, a specialist is someone who not only has a personal intellectual interest in their field and derives satisfaction from influencing public policy, he or she also enjoys working on various projects, engaging with the nitty-gritty of policy proposals, and identifying the optimal strategy for achieving the objectives which have been set. From this perspective, the present chapter analyses the lack of recognition accorded to European specialists in the French Parliament, a place where specialists in other areas—such as public finances, local taxation, the

© The Author(s) 2020 223 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9_8 224 O. ROZENBERG nuclear industry or the environment—are fully recognised. While it is true that some parliamentarians are known as Monsieur Europe or, more rarely, Madame Europe, these individuals are few and these monikers lack real resonance or prestige. Even though the structures dedicated to European questions have been in place for some time, the role of the European specialist has failed to take root in either the National Assembly or the Senate since the signature of the Maastricht Treaty. European activities have failed to become institutionalised, both in terms of the division of the work of Parliament and as a symbolic system of accreditation. The main reason for this is that the influence exerted by bodies that specialise in the examination of European legislation is very limited, as will be considered in the first part of this chapter. Members of these bodies are therefore forced to adopt a role whereby they dedicate themselves to socialising within Parliament or seek prestige in other ways. Analysis of successive chairmanships of the National Assembly European Affairs Delegations/Committees in the second session confirms this.

The Difficulty in Exerting Influence ‘I should be able to come up with an answer to that one but, mmm, you’ve got me there. Let me think…’ This quote from an interview with MP Gérard Fuchs (1986–1988 and 1997–2002) regarding the impact of recommendations made by the Delegation for the EU was quite typical. We asked the majority of interviewees to evaluate the influence of the activities of the delegations and the Parliament on the government’s European policies. Few interviewees could give a clear reply. In fact, it would be difficult to come up with an example of a precise response. The replies given by three former ministers in the Jospin government—Elisabeth Guigou, Justice Minister from 1997 to 2000, then Minister for Social Affairs, Pierre Moscovici, Junior Minister for European Affairs, and Jean-Jack Queyranne, the Minister for Relations with Parliament from 2000 to 2002—were particularly revealing.

When you were minister, were there any parliamentary resolutions on cases you were following or… Elisabeth Guigou: I don’t recall precisely.

If we take as an example the reports on enlargement prepared by the delegations, in what way are they of interest to you as minister? I mean, pre- 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 225

sumably these reports make for interesting reading, but are they actually of any use to you? And if they are, why? And if not, why not? Pierre Moscovici: [silence] That is a difficult question to answer… Well I think that they raise … some interesting points … They are very good, we read them, we take what they say into consideration, it’s not … Well, they don’t contain any scoops, or major revelations … But they are always extremely detailed and enable the Ministry to readjust its positions regarding one country or another. They are really useful, precious documents. But I can’t go as far as to say that they completely changed the way we look at enlargement but … it is not a fruitless exercise.

Have you dealt with parliamentary reserves? Jean-Jack Queyranne: With what? The parliamentary reserves? I’ve never seen this text. It must have gone through the Cabinet Office. But we never deal with them.

The replies of civil servants working in government or Parliament are similarly vague. A senior clerk in the Senate reacted angrily to my question: ‘I don’t have any examples of that; you should do a little research before coming to see us’ (I85). One of his colleagues mentioned in his thesis the impact of a resolution passed in 1995 relating to diseases in bivalve mol- luscs, which was taken up by the EP (Nuttens 2001, p. 286). A high- ranking civil servant at the National Assembly, for his part, pointed to the name change of the Erasmus World project to Erasmus International as a concession to French-speakers (I51). These responses are doubly intriguing in the light of parliamentary studies and of the official discourse justifying the work of the European Affairs Committees. In the field of legislative studies use is made of an informational approach (Krehbiel 1991) that conceptualises parliamentary committees as settings where elected officials become specialists who, because of their expertise, are able to influence the formulation of legislation. Moreover, the main justification offered for the lengthy adaptation process of parliaments in European affairs was the idea that once a piece of European legislation had been adopted, the national parliaments could not modify it, and that therefore they would seek to exert influence in the early stages of the legislative process. The credibility of these arguments was undermined by the embarrassed silences and hesitations of our interviewees when pressed on the question of influence. It is certainly a difficult task to identify the various factors that weigh on the definition of the posi- 226 O. ROZENBERG tion of a Member State. Often, the views of the assemblies reflect a largely shared position among domestic elites and are first concerned with fighting for national interest. A report by the Senate shows for instance that, among 17 resolutions adopted from October 2014 to February 2016, nine had been largely taken into account by the government, five partially, and three not at all.1 Those data indicate that there was a noticeable convergence of opinions in a period where the majority in the Senate was different from the government, but they cannot prove that the government followed the Senate position. For all these reasons, it is worth pursuing this point further by examining a case in some depth. We have chosen to consider the mobilisations and strategies undertaken by left-wing MPs serving under the Jospin government (1997–2002) in favour of the development of a ‘Social Europe’. This term is associated with expanded employees’ rights, opposition to the introduction of competition into systems of social protection, and, sometimes, support for more redistributive policies. The notion of Social Europe, though vague, was of crucial political importance, since criticisms of the EU by the left increasingly centred on the fact that the rhetoric of Social Europe was failing to be translated into actual policies (Heine 2009). The Socialists who gave their support to, first, the Maastricht Treaty, then the European Constitution could be relied upon to regularly announce the imminent social reorientation of European construction, such as when, for the European elections of 2004, the PS chose the campaign slogan ‘Social Europe Now!’ These questions became a campaign issue at the time of the 1997 legislative elections in relation to the four conditions for the adoption of the Euro, stipulated by the leaders of the leftist coalition. For a time, at the end of the 1990s, the fact that social democratic governments were in power in almost every Member State gave a certain amount of credibility to promises of an aggiornamento. Putting pressure on the government to further the cause of Social Europe and campaigning against economic liberalism were priorities for many left-wing MPs around the turn of the millennium. The following sections explore four distinct strategies adopted to achieve these objectives: those adopted by the expert, the diner, the agitator, and the authoriser. I also outline more briefly another case study regarding the opposition of right-wing MPs to Turkey joining the EU after 2002. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 227

The Expertise: The Minimal Influence of Rapporteurs ‘Social Europe’ was the foremost discussion topic in the Delegation of the Assembly during the 11th Parliament (1997–2002). Alain Barrau presented a report on the European Social Fund in 1998 and no fewer than three reports on European Employment Strategy (1998, 1999, 2000). Gérard Fuchs produced two reports on the services of general interest in France and in the EU (2000, 2001), and Gaëtan Gorce two reports on the roadmap for Social Europe (2000) and social dumping in Europe (2000). Didier Boulaud, who specialised in public utilities, studied the rail and postal systems. The reports, resolutions, hearings and colloquiums which these MPs and some of their colleagues produced or organised enabled the subject to be examined in detail, going beyond simple demands for a ‘more Social Europe’. Draft directives and the conclusions of the European Councils were examined with a fine-toothed comb. Precise proposals were formulated, during ministerial hearings for example. What was the outcome of this process in public policies terms? Did Europe specialists suc- ceed in exerting any influence on European decisions or, at least, on France’s position? Alain Barrau opined that the work of the Delegation influenced the French government’s decision to call for the inclusion of the social chapter on the Lisbon agenda.2 His satisfaction was, however, tempered by the fact that France was unable to convince its European partners to follow its lead in any event.

Martine [Aubry] and Elisabeth [Guigou] were with us on the social chapter.3 You will recall, in Lisbon when we wanted to propose the adoption of the indicators. That was very much the government’s position at that point. It didn’t work out in the end, although it did remain the position of the French government.

Gérard Fuchs’ report on public utilities in Europe, together with a proposal for a resolution, was presented to the Delegation on 23 November 2000, two weeks before the Nice European Council, held on 7, 8, and 9 December, where a declaration regarding public utilities was adopted.4 This Council’s conclusions were rather vague, but it was at least the first time that a document of this kind approached such services in a trans- sectoral way. Fuchs believes that his work may have had some influence. If this was indeed the case, the work of the Delegation could be said to have 228 O. ROZENBERG been part of the complex process which resulted in the formulation of the French position. It should, however, be pointed out that, as was the case for Barrau, Fuchs’ satisfaction was diminished by the reluctance of European leaders to adopt French priorities. As it happens, the former MP pointed out in an interview in 2002 that the promotion of public utilities at the EU level was insufficient.

I think that we contributed to the adoption of the principle of a framework directive for public services, because in the past the Commission has always dealt with each sector separately: gas, telecoms, and the rest. Of course, it was quite deliberate that there had never been [a shared norm]. Well, it was France that managed to have the general interest mentioned in the Amsterdam Treaty, but the reference was expressed in somewhat abstract terms, so we fought quite hard at the Delegation for this idea of a framework directive. And we passed on the idea to the government who defended it in Brussels. Although Brussels did not expressly reject the idea, as far as I know it was never actually accepted.

Those left-wing politicians stressed their harmonious relations with ministers, enabling them to work together to promote various Social Europe concerns. Nevertheless, some of them seemed to have lost faith in a government which appeared powerless to stop Europe’s liberal drift. Barrau admitted to feeling bitter:

Lisbon left a bitter taste. I resolved to produce a report every year, but this was of limited use, given that as the years passed little progress was made. I was full of enthusiasm after Luxemburg.5 And it’s not as if we didn’t achieve anything but … Ideologically it’s a very interesting example. In fact, in Lisbon, the theme of “employment” became “employment in a neoliberal economy”. Our objective in Luxemburg was to develop the idea that employment policy in Europe should have a social dimension. And I don’t think that the government defended this approach with enough determination. And this was the case despite the fact that Martine Aubry and Elisabeth Guigou were in full agreement with us.

In May 2000, Gaëtan Gorce presented a report on social dumping in Europe6 accompanied by a proposal for a resolution regarding a proposed directive of the Council, establishing a general framework regarding informing and consulting European Community workers. In the same year he also presented a report on the social agenda7 which led to another resolution. He strongly believes that the reports had no impact. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 229

Did your conclusions and this resolution influence matters? No … No, no, to be perfectly honest, they didn’t. We were involved, well, we were informed about the work the government did regarding the social agenda, and it was the French presidency [of 2000] at the time so we had a role … how can I put it? We gave our opinions, well, as an MP I gave my opinion, as did several of my colleagues. But it was just an opinion, I mean, throughout the debate members of the Socialist group and the parliamentary majority were pushing a certain line, but it was not taken into consideration by the decision- makers. The real negotiations were being conducted elsewhere and the government, although it took the trouble to consult its MPs, to make sure it was in agreement with them, had its own agenda, its own priorities.

MPs clearly believe that the principal function of the procedures for ensuring parliamentary participation in European issues is to display consensus between the executive and the parliamentary majority in view of the EU negotiations. When the procedure was first created, the 88-4 instrument was used at the beginning of the 10th Parliament (1993–1997) by the Balladur government in order to show that their handling of the GATT negotiations had Parliament’s support (Rullier 1994). Ministers from the Jospin government confirmed that they also employed this instrument. For example, the Junior Minister for Trade and Industry in the Jospin government, Christian Pierret, stressed that he turned for support to the Socialist MPs François Brottes and Jacques Guyard when a directive pushing for the introduction of competition to European postal services was being negotiated in the second half of 2000:

The National Assembly supported our proposals. François Brottes and Jacques Guyard supported us, although they did request that the requirement for a progressive and controlled opening of the marketplace be retained. In general, we had very informal contacts well in advance with the MPs. A parliamentary resolution is very useful, in fact even more so because it considers the discussions we have had beforehand.

Another example: the MP Didier Boulaud presented a long report on the railways in the EU in May 1999, which gave rise to a proposal for a resolution.8 Boulaud explained that after consultations with the Minister of Transport, the resolution was discussed during the sitting of 16 June 1999, a few days before the Transport Council in which the issue was to be examined: 230 O. ROZENBERG

The resolution was passed unanimously, except for one person. That was very useful. The resolution was voted on 16 June, two days before the meeting of the Council of Transport Ministers. So [Jean-Claude] Gayssot went into the negotiations with the resolution. He withstood the pressure from the Germans. We won ourselves a bit of time and were able to make some counterproposals. I met with Gayssot and we were able to make some adjustments regarding the timing.

In this instance, it may have been especially important for Jean-Claude Gayssot to demonstrate to his colleagues in the Council that the position he was defending was not just the personal viewpoint of a Communist minister, but also that of the national Parliament. The system of parliamentary examination of proposed EU legislation may therefore be used by the parliamentary majority to support the French minister negotiating in the Council. Depending on the circumstances, ministers and senior civil servants can use the Parliament’s stance to demonstrate to their counterparts that they are under pressure domestically, or that they have the whole of the national political class behind them. Can thus using the Parliament have an impact on the Council? The available case studies do not enable us to answer this question with any certainty. This strategy is of limited effectiveness because it can backfire on a senior civil servant or a minister by making his or her position seem weak. Furthermore, the purpose of this or that parliamentary opinion will be perfectly obvious to the ministers sitting in the Council. It is revealing that parliamentarians often have no idea what impact their reports, conclusions, and other recommendations may have on the Council if a French minister decides to quote them in support of her position. Thus, in Europe, the real information deficit has less to do with European projects or the government’s position than with parliamentarians’ ignorance of whether and how much their opinions are heeded and acted upon. Many elected officials state their hope that what they do is of some use. The MP Christian Philip has his doubts:

Next week I have to report on a proposed directive concerning the retaliatory measures to be taken against states who subsidise their airlines. We are thinking of the US in particular, of course. What influence can the Delegation really have in this matter? Honestly? Will the position of the French minister in the Council be strengthened if he says, “You know, my Delegation supports this project”? The Finnish minister at the other end of the table couldn’t care less. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 231

The Informal: The Limited Influence of the Diner Non-public exchanges between parliamentarians and ministers constitute a unique opportunity for discussion and negotiation. A degree of expertise can be useful for this type of informal lobbying, insofar as it is a matter of convincing the decision-makers rather than exerting pressure on them. In parliamentary regimes, the proximity between those holding executive and legislative power is conducive to informal exchanges: parliamentarians and ministers know each other and have often had contact with each other socially for several years. Their paths cross regularly and they may find themselves swapping positions in the future. The mere fact of being an MP does not guarantee access to the informal networks surrounding ministers, but it still constitutes a real asset. Moreover, the confidential nature of this type of activity allows politicians to criticise policy without laying themselves open to charges of disloyalty. François Loncle, who was president of the Foreign Affairs committees at the National Assembly from 2000 to 2002, explains that, despite the lack of commitment of Lionel Jospin’s Foreign Affairs Minister to pushing for enlargement, he was careful not to criticise him publicly:

I’ve worked a lot and always worked well with Hubert Védrine, but we’ve often had heated arguments, though never fallen out, over Europe. I have criticised him for his lack of conviction over Europe, for his reluctance to throw himself behind the European project. He’s always been something of a Eurosceptic. He’s come in for quite a lot of criticism for this. It’s all the more surprising because he was very close to Mitterrand for many years, and Mitterrand was a great European, whereas it always seemed to me that Védrine was over-cautious. When you say, “I’ve had heated arguments with Védrine…”? Well, no, it was just between the two of us. So, you kept these discussions private? Oh yes absolutely, I never expressed my disagreements with Védrine publicly. Even though on several occasions some of his replies etc, disappointed me.

Members of the Delegation, particularly the Chair and the Vice-Chair, have greater access to, among others, the Junior Minister of European Affairs, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, and some of their colleagues. Barrau, for example, wanted the EU to undertake a programme of major projects financed by a loan from Europe. He put this idea forward on several occasions, notably in a report, published just before the French Presidency in 2000, whose conclusions he presented to Jean Vidal, an 232 O. ROZENBERG advisor to Lionel Jospin and Secretary General of the SGCI, and even to the advisors of the President of the Republic, Jacques Chirac.9 The former MP explained that he had discussed this idea in person with two of Jospin’s Economics and Finance Ministers, Dominique Strauss-Kahn and Laurent Fabius. President Chirac also had a brief word with him about it at a reception. The game of informal influence can be especially crucial because usually the main division is not between the Parliament and the government, but between different groups within the majority. Thus, Gérard Fuchs explained that his defence of the services of general interest was welcomed by the ministers, who were keen to put this item on the agenda. His informal and confidential relationships with certain members of the government, such as Pierre Moscovici, enabled him not only to argue his point of view but also to monitor which arguments were prevailing within the government on this question.

Most months Moscovici invited the Socialist members of the Delegation to din- ner. As far as I know, no records of these gatherings were made. He went through what he saw as being our most important upcoming problems, and we told him anything we thought was important. […] In the case of the declaration of the services of general interest, was it a matter of helping the government and the other partners, or rather of bringing pressure to bear? Helping the government regarding the others, and I think that within the government … umm … some people were keener than others on having the issue discussed.

Informal influence can be exerted not only by defending an idea, but also by involving oneself in the drafting of parties’ manifestos. Barrau, for example, explained that he was invited to participate in the preparation of a long speech on Europe for Lionel Jospin to deliver in May 2001 after speeches by Joschka Fischer and Tony Blair. This speech was intended to establish the Prime Minister’s status as an important European leader just a year before the presidential election. On this occasion, the Chair of the Delegation was one of the team of a half-dozen politicians and advisors who were working most closely with the Prime Minister. These examples indicate that parliamentary expertise is called upon, occasionally, by key decision-makers. Nevertheless, the various accounts demonstrate the limitations of these processes. The French government 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 233 did not make the grand projects and loans from Europe a top priority, protection of public utilities at the EU level remains inadequate, and Jospin made little mention of Europe during the 2002 presidential election campaign. Parliamentarians who are regarded as European experts can express their opinions, often at crucial junctures, but are not necessarily listened to. During the following parliamentary term, a similar example arose with the debate over Turkey joining the EU. The Chairman of the Delegation, Pierre Lequiller, mentioned that on the eve of the Council of Europe, held in Copenhagen in December 2002, he had explained his misgivings at a breakfast in the presence of the Prime Minister, the Foreign Affairs Minister and the Leader of the UMP, Alain Juppé. The MP for the Yvelines interpreted the fact that no date was fixed for Turkey to join the EU at the summit as evidence of the influence he had exerted. This is impossible to prove, and in any case any influence he may have wielded did not prevent the opening of official negotiations in 2005.

The Controversy: The True Influence of the Agitators ‘I have to admit that I haven’t actually read the [European] Constitution. I’ve just read parts of it. I had two academics decipher it for me, it was too difficult [for me]’. This statement, made by Henri Emmanuelli on the radio France Inter on 8 September 2004, clearly indicates that he was not a Europe specialist. He did not base his opposition to the Constitutional Treaty on a claim to be an expert but on the necessity of opposing a liberal project. To this end, he appeared in the media, sought to influence public opinion, gave an ideological reading of events, and put public pressure on Socialist leaders. In the previous chapter we argued that this kind of parliamentary initiative helped provide credibility for the movement opposing the draft Constitutional Treaty during the campaign for internal consultation in the Socialist party in autumn 2004. Influence through public protest largely depends on the number of MPs who join the movement. In March 2003, Gaëtan Gorce revealed, in contrast, that the lack of publicity given to any parliamentary lobbying in favour of ‘Social Europe’ undermined the credibility of the demands formulated by the French within the Convention on the Future of Europe, the body set up to prepare a Constitution for the EU:

Look, about the subject of Social Europe, which was considered within the Convention, this subject was not discussed a single time in the Assembly, on the 234 O. ROZENBERG

floor. Even though we French, including the right-wing government, are supposed to defend the idea of a Social Europe, no-one stood up and made a speech about it on the floor during a sitting. And no-one talked about this issue in [parliamentary party] groups either. Or in any committees. I couldn’t say if it was discussed in the Delegation to the Union, but if it was, such discussions were never made public. There are only 15 MPs who know if these discussions ever took place. The other 562 were kept in the dark [laughter].

Can one or several parliamentarians loudly condemning a European project actually influence the position France takes in European negotiations? The campaign launched by Emmanuelli against the Bolkestein directive leads us to believe that, in the right circumstances, parliamentarians can indeed exert significant pressure on the French negotiator. Around the middle of January 2005, Emmanuelli, MP for Landes since 1978, former Speaker of the National Assembly and former president of the PS, made many media appearances condemning a draft directive of which few people had even heard. The draft directive on the harmonisation and liberalisation of services in the Union, named after the Dutch former European Commissioner, Frits Bolkestein, aimed to establish a legal framework which would remove barriers to the free establishment of service providers and the free circulation of services between Member States. A particularly important provision was the legal innovation of the ‘country of origin principle’, which allowed a service provider to be subject to the laws of the country where it was based, and not those of the country where the service was received. Emmanuelli was one of the first people to bring this draft directive to the attention of the public. In so doing he was able to continue campaigning against the Constitutional Treaty, though in a sufficiently indirect way as to avoid openly challenging Socialist Party orders to support it. On 19 January 2005, he launched the website ‘www.pouruneeuropesociale.org’ (now defunct), and soon succeeded in having the PS examine the matter. On 25 January, despite having heard evidence from the German SPD MEP and EP rapporteur, Evelyne Gebhardt, who argued that the text could be retained in an amended form, the National Council of the party demanded that the text be withdrawn. Furthermore, the National Council instructed the leaders of the Socialist group in the National Assembly and the Senate to introduce a draft resolution demanding ‘that the Raffarin government oppose this directive in the European Council’, to quote the draft resolution. On 2 February, Jean-Marc Ayrault, the leader of the 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 235

Socialist Party in the National Assembly, attended the debate organised by the Delegation, during which the UDF MP Anne-Marie Comparini presented a report.10 Ayrault had no difficulty in obtaining a floor discussion and a vote over the draft resolution. On the same day, Chirac announced in the French Council of Ministers that he was in favour of the directive being ‘thoroughly reviewed’. During the question time in the afternoon, Prime Minister Raffarin stated that the text was unacceptable. Finally, a few hours later, the President of the Commission, José Manuel Barroso, announced that the text would be redrafted. A resolution for the draft to be re-examined on 15 March 2005 was approved on the floor by the UMP and the UDF. The left, who demanded that the directive be withdrawn, voted against. It would be an over-simplification to say that the MP for the Landes killed the Bolkestein directive, firstly because a modified version of the proposal was adopted in December 2006, and secondly because other forces in Europe were behind the mobilisation (Crespy 2012). Emmanuelli and his colleagues did efficiently build upon an opposition movement that had hitherto been confined to the alternative globalisation movements and a number of foreign trade unions. The fact that this parliamentary mobilisation constituted a very public protest was no guarantee that it would be influential. The timing of the referendum on the Constitutional Treaty, to be held on 30 May 2005, created the perfect opportunity to put pressure on the executive to respond to criticisms addressed against EU projects. Taking advantage of the circumstances, and with popular support, the left-wing MPs opposed to the European Constitution managed to influence the decision-making process. The special procedures created for the oversight of European affairs were set in motion, and other tools, such as press conferences and the Internet, were employed. While the MPs who acted as specialists attached great importance to the conclusions they drew and the recommendations they made, parliamentary reports and their examination by the delegations and committees were no more than procedural conditions for obtaining a debate in plenary followed by a vote. There was little press coverage of the report made by the MP Robert Lecou, who concluded that ‘there were some parts of the proposal which should not be rejected’.11 It was reported that the MPs had adopted ‘a resolution—which was symbolic—demanding the “re-examination” of this directive’.12 Ultimately, this parliamentary activity contributed not only to the opposition to the draft directive, but also to the continued 236 O. ROZENBERG public criticism of the pro-market liberal turn that European integration was allegedly taking. The European Commission reacted with a swiftness that revealed its own sensitivity to publicised involvement of national parliaments in controversial matters. The ‘services directive’ incident is far from the only evidence: other examples include the issue of the directive on migratory birds, in which the goodwill of the Commission offices favoured France for some time. Brussels’ sensitivity to public controversy, derived in part from the institutions’ lack of electoral legitimacy, renders it susceptible to manipulation strategies on the part of national parliaments. A former member of Bolkestein’s cabinet, the Internal Market Commissioner from 1999 to 2004, recounts with some earthiness how the postal directive of 2002 occasioned a merciless fight with the French Post’s lobbyists over a Belgian parliamentary resolution (Eppink 2007). Tabled under the influence of the French public company, the draft resolution was buried away with the complicity of the Speaker of the House of Representatives though its originator was promised access to the Quaestor. The Commission’s attentiveness to national parliamentary debates, here evident, contrasts with its indifferent, almost condescending responses to Assemblies’ mes- sages in the course of political dialogue and even in the framework of parliamentary control of the subsidiarity principle (Mastenbroek et al. 2014). In terms of parliamentary influence, controversy evidently takes precedence over expertise. Parliamentary agitation aimed at influencing the executive generally originates from the opposition. Occasionally, majority backbenchers can also be publicly critical, although if an issue is domestically salient, they run the risk of being perceived as traitors to the national interest.13 The question of the opening of negotiations over Turkey joining the EU during the second presidential term of Chirac (2002–2007) provides an example of this. In the previous chapter, the press campaign orchestrated by Bayrou in the autumn of 2004 was examined. By comparing the prominence of this issue with the other favourite causes of the then-leader of the UDF, it is apparent that support given to his positions by UMP backbenchers was crucial to his success in having a debate held in the National Assembly. Bayrou’s campaign gained momentum when, during a parliamentary question to the Prime Minister, he called for a parliamentary vote to be held before the European Council meeting on 17 December. This intervention was widely applauded by UMP MPs. In contrast, the MPs who specialised in this issue—for example, the Delegates who had carried 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 237 out projects in Turkey—maintained a low profile. Guy Lengagne, who wrote the Delegation report which was presented at the peak of the controversy on 5 October 2004, did not speak in the debate on 14 October 2004.14 The impact of expertise on the debate seems indeed to have been minimal. In the end, the opposition of UMP MPs to Turkish membership—supported by the minister Sarkozy, who took the opposite view from the President of the Republic—did not stop accession negotiations from getting underway. Three profiles of right-wing MPs closely involved in the Turkey issue demonstrate the limited influence of parliamentarians: Lengagne, the expert, did not speak; Lequiller, the diner, was not listened to; and Bayrou, the agitator, was ignored by President Chirac.

The Transposition: The Inevitable Influence of the Authoriser Finally, parliamentarians can be influential because they have the power to ratify European treaties or transpose European directives into domestic law. The passage of a bill which is clearly in contravention of EU texts has already been discussed in Chap. 5 through the case of the laws on hunting. Apart from this case, Parliament’s influence can manifest itself in three ways: avoidance, delays and amendments. 1. Avoidance. The first case involves non-decision (Bachrach and Baratz 1963). The executive avoids committing itself at the European level to EU texts that require parliamentary approval when ministers are unsure that such approval will be obtained. For the government, the fallout from a refusal of this kind can extend beyond the issue in question and may dam- age the image of the executive, impacting domestic perceptions of the strength of its leadership as well as its credibility abroad. The fact that non-decisions are, by their very nature, difficult to subject to empirical study should not lead us to underestimate their importance. Of course, the French President exerts a great degree of influence over his majority in Parliament (when he has one). A comparison of the change in the international positions of President Chirac and Chancellor Schröder from Nice (December 2000) to the European Convention (2002–2003), for example, clearly indicates the contrasting levels of internal constraint under which the two leaders were operating (Jabko 2004). Between 2010 and 2012, Angela Merkel’s caution and Nicolas Sarkozy’s willingness regarding the question of financial support for Greece provide another example of this, with the German Chancellor being obliged to accommodate coalition partners. Nevertheless, despite their greater room for manoeuvre, 238 O. ROZENBERG

French decision-makers are still bound by the formal approval of Parliament. A French negotiator at the Council will, in practice, avoid decisions that could risk a parliamentary veto, such as introducing a draft treaty for the accession of Turkey when the right has a majority or, to take an example which could be rejected on both sides of the left-right divide, the full liberalisation of GMOs. For instance, in 2002, President Chirac and PM Jospin’s successful opposition to the mention of Europe’s Christian heritage in the European Convention could be attributed to their anticipating difficulties in having the text ratified (Foret and Riva 2010). In some cases, the government may re-open negotiations closed by a preceding administration to avoid a text that the Parliament will not ratify. Edouard Balladur, Prime Minister from 1993 to 1995, explains that he exhausted his energies obtaining the annulment of the agricultural issues in the so-called Blair-House Agreement of 1992 between Europeans and Americans. In his memoirs, he attests to having feared not only that the French Parliament would reject the trade agreement but also that his own Cabinet would censure him (Balladur 2009). In the event, the silent and immovable opposition of Chirac’s supporters in the majority gave cre- dence to this threat. 2. Delay. Parliament can also delay a transposition. In the course of the 11th Parliament (1997–2002), during which the Socialist group lacked an absolute majority, there were several postponed transpositions. Christian Pierret, Secretary of State for Industry and then a Junior Minister from 1997 to 2002, has acknowledged that the government failed to transpose several directives because of pressure from its parliamentary majority. A directive providing for the partial and gradual liberalisation of the European postal market was adopted at EU level in 1997. In 2000, the Jospin government envisaged including it in a project of transposition through ordinances, i.e. regulatory texts, concerning around 50 directives. While the official reason given for this initiative was the need to address the backlog of transpositions, it also aimed to minimise the potential controversy that would have been generated by votes on certain texts. Both Pierre Moscovici, Junior Minister for European Affairs (1997–2002), and Jean-Jack Queyranne, Minister for Relations with Parliament (2000–2002), acknowledged this during our interviews. Many parliamentarians, particularly Senators, resented what they saw as an attempt to exclude them from the process. Moscovici commented: ‘This was the most serious falling-out [on EU issues] between the government and Parliament 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 239 during this five-year period’. In the end, the parliamentarians succeeded in having several projects withdrawn. As Pierret explained: ‘We gave up on trying to transpose the postal directive for political reasons. We couldn’t take it any further. Some MPs would not have voted for the transposition’. The Jospin government similarly backed down over the proposed transposition of the directive regarding the opening of gas to competition, which was opposed by MPs from the left majority. As the staunch pro- market Pierret explained:

The transposition of the directive on gas was not a priority for the Prime Minister. Not going through with it was, in my opinion, a strategic mistake. We could have shown both our voters and our MPs that we were inventive, and able to open the market while keeping public services. I told Lionel Jospin this, but he wasn’t convinced. It is quite possible that there were French MPs who were not ready for such a move, which caused Jospin to hesitate.

The directive was intended to be transposed by 10 August 2000 at the latest. On 17 May 2000, after organising many consultation procedures, notably a 1999 parliamentary mission headed by the Socialist MP Nicole Bricq, the government introduced a bill regarding the modernisation of the public supply of natural gas and the development of gas companies. There ensued a debate in the government as to whether the bill should be tabled on the Parliament’s agenda. A ministerial advisor explained that the minister for relations with Parliament, Daniel Vaillant, was against its inclusion: ‘He was opposed to it not only for ideological reasons—he regarded it as being too liberal—but also for political reasons. He knew that a section of the parliamentary majority, namely the Communist Party, was opposed to it’ (I99). The bill was in the end not tabled. At the end of November 2001, when the amended budget bill for 2001 was being examined, the government circulated an amendment defending the end of the monopoly. The budget rapporteur, Didier Migaud, made it clear that this article would not be included unless ‘an agreement [had] been reached on it within the left majority’.15 The MP Christian Philip, in a Delegation report published during the following parliamentary term, wrote, ‘It would seem that the government conceived this article in order to avoid an unwinna- ble debate and to transpose the directive by means of a succession of amendments’.16 On 5 December 2001, faced with the opposition of the Communist MPs, the government decided against introducing the amendment. It did manage, with the support of centrist MPs, to pass an 240 O. ROZENBERG

amendment transferring ownership of the gas network from the French State to Gaz de France. The same advisor explained the position of the president of the communist parliamentary group: ‘Bocquet told us that he had “swallowed” the electricity directive and was not prepared to do the same for the gas directive’. The postal service and gas network are not isolated instances. As another example, the implementation of the Schengen agreements was postponed for years because of the reluctance on the parliamentary right (Tacea 2017). It demonstrates that Parliament can use its veto power to delay transpositions until the government attempts to outmanoeuvre its opponents in Parliament via legislative procedure, unsuccessfully in these cases. These outcomes confirm that parliamentary politics rests on numbers rather than information: what matters to the ministers and their offices is how many MPs are ready to vote against them. The French authorities, eager to show their good behaviour after financial penalties paid in the mid-2000s, have two procedures for gaining time: ordering a transposition, as in the example above, or bulk transposition through a specific legislative vehicle. Since their creation in 2001, laws encompassing ‘several provisions for adaptation to EU law’ have been employed more than once a year on average. 3. Amendments. Expertise can still be decisive when EU norms are being transposed. Rapporteurs of bills, including provisions align national legislation with European directives, often have a margin of manoeuvre. The example of Christian Bataille and the vote on the law relating to the modernisation of the public electricity service, discussed in the previous chapter, can be used to counter accusations from sovereigntists that Parliament has become a mere rubber-stamping body. Bataille believes that he was able to defend certain important amendments, asserting to the government, for example, that the opening of electricity market to competition should not be used as a pretext to privatise EDF, the national electricity company. The fact that Bataille was able to exert some influence may be explained firstly by his expertise in the field in question and secondly by the misgivings of the leftist majority. This demonstrates that an individual with a thorough knowledge of a certain topic can influence the course of a debate where the political situation is favourable. Indeed, as legal tools, EU directives do offer a certain amount of leeway to national authorities, be they government or Parliament. To take one example of many, the transposition of the 2004 takeover bid directive paradoxically increased protection for public companies against hostile 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 241 raids (Clift 2009). A statistical study of all Member States for the years 1986 to 2002 confirmed that delays in transposition and the resulting legal disputes increased where national parliaments were involved in the transposition procedure (König and Luetgert 2009). Nevertheless, the influence of Parliament is circumscribed by various factors, beginning with the minimal respect shown to the original text, the government’s control over the legislative process, and, in France, the constitutional limitation of the field of law. For the period of 2000 to 2008, of the 759 directives adopted alone by the Council or in co-decision, half were transposed by legislation and the other half by regulation (Bertoncini 2009, p. 28). We also observe that any possible influence exerted by Parliament during transposition does not benefit Europe specialists sitting on the European Affairs Committee. The two houses of the French Parliament are in fact characterised by the separation of individuals and structures in charge of prior control and a posteriori approval. This duplication, as well as negating the effects of apprenticeship (Sprungk 2011), constitutes a disincentive for specialising in Europe. From time to time, the European Affairs Committees of the Assembly and the Senate have made efforts to coordinate parliamentary action by seeking the same parliamentarian act as rapporteur before and after transposition.17 This development has been stymied by the European Affairs Committees’ lack of authority over standing committees as well as by the lengthening of the European legislative procedural process. EU institutions take almost two years to adopt regulations and directives, almost twice as much time as 15 years ago, and far longer than it takes for a national law to be passed.18 If we take into account the several years needed to apply most directives, more than one legislative term may run out between the Commission draft and its transposition to national law. This European timeline has gradually shown itself incompatible with that of national parliaments, which are characterised by short- term periods marked by electoral deadlines. Avoidance, delay, emendation: The Assemblies can employ various strategies when the time comes for certain European directives to be encoded in national law. The idea that Parliament has been reduced to passive validation of legislation originating elsewhere is as exaggerated as the claim that Brussels dictates 80% of all laws. Furthermore, in indirect tribute to the Assemblies’ influence, the French government has tried to streamline the parliamentary phase of the transposition process: in 2014, the Prime Minister asked the Council of State whether it would be possible to systematise transposition by decree.19 242 O. ROZENBERG

To summarise, this second section provides an overview of the extent to which European matters may be influenced by Parliament: this influence is limited in the case of the rapporteur of the European Affairs Committee, uncertain about interpersonal networks, sporadic for the agitator and, although well-established, circumscribed at the moment of transposition. The issues of Social Europe during the Jospin administration, or, later, Turkish accession to the EU demonstrate the decisive role played by the following factors: the number of parliamentarians mobilised, the composition of the majority, public controversy, and legislative rather than oversight-related parliamentary activities. On the other hand, the roles played by European expertise, the quality of the reports, and the relevance of resolutions may at best be said to be difficult to evaluate, and at worst may have no actual policy effect.

A ‘Bourbonian’ Europe The obvious difficulty of affecting European matters leads members of the French Parliament to turn their attention to other objectives. Additionally, parliamentarians who are not motivated by the desire to influence matters turn to Europe and elbow out specialists. From the interviews conducted we can identify several types of motivation. In the following extract from my interview with Henri Nallet, the former Minister for Justice emphasises the intellectual satisfaction he derived from examining EU affairs and admits that his expertise in these areas strengthened his curiosity. In a similar vein, Gaëtan Gorce believes that, although parliamentary resolutions ‘have no effect’ on the final decisions, writing a report is a learning experience and an interesting activity. He also explains that this work can help ‘enlighten’ the opinions of his colleagues and decision-makers. However, this affirmation originates more from hope than expectation since, as he himself admits, even within the National Assembly these reports have little impact.

Did you get satisfaction from being President of the Delegation? Henri Nallet: Ah yes, it interested me a lot because I love the machinery of the EU, I am interested in these subjects and because I feel I have what it takes to do the job. I’m not going to indulge in false modesty. I think I knew my stuff. And so, I mobilised the National Assembly administrators. They are highly competent, and they worked very hard. Before giving my imprimatur, I read all the reports. Before any Delegation report was published I read it, took notes, 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 243

and gave my opinion. I put in a lot of work, which I don’t regret. It taught me a lot. Gaëtan Gorce: The parliamentary work I like most is the background work to prepare for or clarify a decision, or simply to make sure that oneself and one’s colleagues are better informed and aware of the various options available. It’s here that we are doing true parliamentary work, insofar as we are contributing to a debate, which can influence political choices and/or even result in new legislation or regulations. And we are sufficiently well-informed to be able to fully participate in this debate and not just react to proposals from government or elsewhere.

The three other Chairmen of the Delegation of the Assembly who were interviewed, Robert Pandraud (Chairman from 1993 to 1997), Alain Barrau (from 1999 to 2002) and Pierre Lequiller (from 2002 to 2012) were more attracted by the social aspect of the chairmanship. Searing calls players of this type ‘Parliament men’,20 a term I have adapted as ‘Bourbonians’ in reference to the Palais-Bourbon where the National Assembly holds its seat. Searing recognises that this is a largely residual category. The MPs who are categorised as Parliament men are those members who attend the House of Commons frequently and seem to be interested in neither their constituency, nor the championing of causes, nor furthering their careers. Parliament men may be divided into three distinct sub-types. Spectators are content to witness the spectacle of Parliament. They enjoy being at the centre of parliamentary activity and consider themselves to be observers. Status seekers are members who are particularly hungry for recognition and prestige. Finally, Club men are the aristocracy of the House of Commons. They are active, respected in the house, and often head standing committees. They particularly appre- ciate the opportunity to socialise and spend time in places in Parliament where they can meet and chat with other members. An examination of the Chairs of the Delegation enables us to categorise them in terms of these roles. The European mobilisation of these politicians, which has no apparent utilitarian motivation, may be explained using the interpretation of well-identified behavioural normscorresponding to certain psychological aspirations. In turn, the profiles of these elected representatives typify European involvement. The behavioural and presentational norms adopted by each Chair have in fact had a crucial impact on the orientation of the activities of the European Affairs Committee at the National Assembly. 244 O. ROZENBERG

Robert Pandraud: A Taste for Chairmanship Robert Pandraud was born in 1928 and died in 2010. Having graduated from ENA, he made a career in the Prefecture before becoming the General Director of the National Police and, later, the Director of the Cabinet for the Mayor of Paris, Jacques Chirac. He was elected MP in 1986 in a proportional vote but resigned to take on the responsibility of Junior Minister of Security under the Minister of the Interior, Charles Pasqua. Fifteen years before the arrival of Nicholas Sarkozy at the Elysée, the Pasqua/Pandraud pair stood as a symbol of a strong and accountable security policy. The former ‘top cop’ was re-elected MP for the RPR in Seine-Saint-Denis in 1988 and represented the département until 2007. He chaired the Delegation for the entire 10th Parliament from 1993 to 1997. As such, he oversaw establishing and running the system of parliamentary resolutions, created in 1992. All the interviewees agree that Pandraud, supported by the Speaker of the Assembly Philippe Séguin, was the driving force behind the Delegation’s rise in power. Interviewed five years after his presidency in 2002, Pandraud highlights the pleasure he had in chairing the Delegation.

What did you enjoy the most when you were Chairman of the Delegation? Chairing. Sorry? Chairing the meetings and having the authority of a chair in relations with governmental bodies. […] I tried to be as good a chair as possible. But I missed it. I missed it. You missed not being there? I missed not being Chairman any more.

The experience had greatly affected him. He recalled the quality of the relations within the Delegation.

First, I believe that we have done our best to defend the interests of France and the French. To turn to a more basic level, I shall say that, for me, it was especially exciting. A unique experience in an administrative and political career, helped by assistants and civil servants who were particularly open and competent and by unique fellow MPs.

Pandraud enjoyed holding the title of Chairman of the Delegation and the ability to take advantage of its various associated prerogatives: leading 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 245 a team of civil servants, authorising the publication of reports, requesting information from the administration, questioning ministers or Commissioners, etc. Beyond that, his words suggest that he enjoyed the very act of chairing, of leading an assembled group of men and women each week. From his point of view, the goal of chairing was to induce the Delegation to adopt positions through overall consent, if not unanimity. Nonetheless, in the years after the Maastricht Treaty, a deep fracture grew between sovereigntists and pro-Maastrichtians, especially within the RPR. The Delegation was made up of eminent representatives from the two schools of thought. Nicole Ameline, Patrick Hoguet, Charles Josselin, Pierre Lellouche, Maurice Ligot, and Jean-Bernard Raimond argued in favour of European construction as it stood, while François d’Aubert, Franck Borotra, Nicole Catala, François Guillaume, Pierre Mazeaud, and Jacques Myard were conspicuously more critical. Pandraud abstained from voting on the constitutional revision preliminary to the ratification of the Maastricht Treaty in 1992, including on Séguin’s motion, but voted ‘no’ several months later in the referendum. When interviewed about pro- Europeans and Eurosceptics, he declared, ‘I don’t need to choose a side like that’. This refusal to adopt a position reflects a certain personal pragmatism on his part. As a former police chief, he had had experience in European cooperation, especially during the wave of terrorist acts by the extreme left in the years 70s and 80s. He had been elected in a district that had benefitted from the development of a Eurocopter factory. Above all, his pragmatism had been reinforced by the institutional position he had held. Pandraud explained: ‘I made efforts to grasp reality instead of placing myself in one camp or another’. A certain arbitral neutrality was in fact necessary to guide the Delegation toward a single, shared position. A detailed account of the tactics he used to reach agreements between pro- and anti-Maastrichtians shows that Pandraud found a source for energy in meeting challenges. His pragmatism is typical of real lovers of the game. At heart, he cared little whether the Delegation expressed doubt on the establishment of the Economic and Monetary Union or called for its acceleration: the important question was whether the Delegation could successfully do its work of reviewing European policy by arriving consen- sually, if not unanimously, at a position.

Most of the decisions that we made were almost always arrived at unanimously. Which was not easy. I do not mean unanimity among the leaders of the party groups—which itself is difficult to obtain—but of the unanimity of all the MPs. 246 O. ROZENBERG

The most difficult task I had was to lead the RPR to adopt common positions. There were two remarkably divergent trends here. And I did it. I did it. Not always easy.

The prolixity of Pandraud on that topic and the explanations of his strategies not only indicate how significant this issue was for him but also how much pleasure he derived from solving it. He explained about the opposite views on the EU:

I tried to find a balance between both [sovereigntist and federalist] tendencies. And it is true that unanimity is not always easy to obtain. There were irreduc- ible opponents to our positions. So, I arranged for the good times to last until one of them had to go to the toilet and as soon as he did I took a vote. But however you look at it, we had a unanimous position; it is the role of the Chair to achieve this.

The type of chairmanship followed by Pandraud entailed important consequences for the Delegation’s activities. As he explained in the extracts above, Pandraud attempted not to favour either the anti- or the pro- Maastrichtians and even tried to unite them on occasion. Thus, the UDF MP Nicole Ameline and the RPR MP Nicole Catala, despite their opposing views of Europe, were in 1995 co-authors of a report on the institutional future of the Union before the opening of the IGC in 1996 which ended in the Amsterdam Treaty. Pandraud’s psychological aspirations favoured the institutional affirmation of delegations as structures where Europe specialists came together and, despite their differences, reached shared positions. Even while a group of virulent Eurosceptics held office in the Assembly and the leader of the ‘No to Maastricht’ camp was its Speaker, the specialised structure for reviewing Community affairs did not become a dispensary of sovereigntist ideas. Pandraud sought a specific institutional niche for the delegations which, especially in the Assembly, were built on cooperation between parliamentarians critical of Europe and pro-treaty partisans, as we have discussed in Chap. 2. Though the right emerged deeply divided from Maastricht, Pandraud’s personal taste for challenges and manoeuvring served a greater institutional interest by maintaining a certain consensus within the Delegation. His personal aspirations, furthermore, helped to valorise some of the Delegation’s tools, such as hearings, and to develop a certain style that pitted it against the national and European authorities. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 247

The truculence with which he evokes certain hearings from several years earlier demonstrates this style:

It has to be said that the ministers were taken to the cleaners. And above all, I think it was quite novel: The Minister for European Affairs told us who the prey was … or at least the hare, and there was a horde behind the technical ministers. And we got as far as the technical ministers and some of them really got taken to the cleaners. The Minister for Industry, for Labour… when they were heard by our committee… […] De Silguy was slaughtered. He thought we were a horde of savages.21

Alain Barrau: A Parliament of ‘Mates’ Barrau was born in 1947. He received his diploma from Sciences Po in 1969. He assiduously attended community organisations in the 1970s, especially the national committees of youth associations and of grass-roots education. At the same time, he advanced rapidly within the PS, of which he became a national delegate in 1978. In 1979, he was named Secretary General of the Delegation of Socialist MEPs, then passed the internal competition for the EP. In 1984, he was nominated to the Economic and Social Council. He was elected to the Assembly two years later and re- elected in 1988. From 1989 to 1995, he served as Mayor of Béziers, a city of 76,000 inhabitants in Southern France. He lost in the 1993 elections but regained his seat in 1997. In March 1999, after Henri Nallet’s resignation, he was elected Chair of the Delegation for the EU, where he had been Vice-Chair for one year. His interview from 2003 shows at several points the central importance of the ‘social’ stimulus among the aspirations of this former MP for the Hérault. People motivated by the conviviality incentive, as explains James Payne, seek to build harmonious relationships with their entourage (Payne et al. 1986, pp. 79–101). Politics is for them a club, a family, a group of friends. They like to spend time with other and create bonds. Evidently, this type of person may be encountered outside of politics; however, political activities are by nature social, particularly as concerns representational mandates. The ethnologist Yves Pourcher (2004), who followed Jacques Blanc for nearly 20 years, has described the ‘fear of silence, a terrible anguish of solitude’ that characterises politicians. 248 O. ROZENBERG

The conviviality incentive is central to the constituency MPs in their relationships to voters and other local politicians. It is the same incentive that, for club members, operates within parliaments. Clubs are indeed numerous within the Palais-Bourbon and Palais du Luxembourg: party groups, committees, study groups, and the so-called friendship groups in charge of inter-parliamentary relations with a given country. The whole Parliament can even be regarded as a club. The anthropolo- gist Marc Abélès highlights how numerous the similarities between a club and Parliament are: an entrance fee has to be paid, the topography itself shows how exclusive membership is, members are formally equal and share certain little day-to-day privileges (Abélès 2001, pp. 102–107). In his study of the National Assembly, he interprets the use of the famil- iar ‘tu’ instead of the more formal ‘vous’ as a ‘convention aimed at indicating a community of status’ (ibid., p. 107) and notes that the Delegation for the EU is characterised by its similarity to a ‘club’ (ibid., p. 158). This feature partly derives from the emotional expectations of some of its members, including, until 2002, Barrau. This former MP hardly ever talks about someone without complimenting him or her or mentioning that she or he is friend of great value. In his vocabulary, his colleagues are transformed into ‘mates’ and the high flyers of French political life are always mentioned by their first names. ‘Martine’ and ‘Elisabeth’ thus refer to the well-known former ministers of the Jospin cabinet Martine Aubry and Elisabeth Guigou. Barrau speaks of Gorce as ‘one of my good mates’ and explains that the clerk of a given committee, quoted by his name, ‘was a very talented lawyer’. When speaking about the standing committees’ assignment to examine proposals for resolutions—which reduces the power of the Delegation—he explains: ‘We have to fight, we have to explain to our mates, to the guys on the committee that it’s important. We had a lot of connections, we had connections with everybody’. Searing explains that club members are particularly willing to highlight their trans-party connections.22 One year after his electoral defeat in 2002, Barrau describes his successful UMP opponent as a ‘nice guy’. He explains that he regularly invited Eurosceptic politicians to Delegation conferences and adds about one of them: ‘What’s more, I like Berthu, and I think he’s a good guy on legal questions’. Finally, when Barrau was asked to evaluate the three years of his chairmanship, sociability and even friendship—‘I made many friends’—came first. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 249

I deliberately developed a workload which was both intense and somewhat convivial. For instance, I think it was one of the few places within the Assembly—I didn’t do this on purpose, it just happened—where during meetings, the MPs used the “tu” pronoun. Whatever their… Whatever side they were on. Whereas most of the time, we use the informal “tu” pronoun at the Assembly bar or in the lobby but not within committees. But on my Delegation, we used first names, we used the “tu” pronoun. There was really a feeling that we were doing something together—I would say from different standpoints—for Europe, for France within Europe.

Barrau was one of the most active parliamentarians in the 11th Parliament; in terms of number of reports presented, he was second only behind Didier Migaud, General Rapporteur for the Finance Committee. His activism probably disadvantaged him within the local electorate. The premature end of his political career at 55 after his loss in the legislative elections of 2002 does not indicate a particularly strong reserve of personal ambition. Nor does his profile correspond to that of an expert; according to him, he became for instance a specialist on the Mercosur almost by chance.23 Apart from his former personal interest for European affairs, Barrau’s primary source of motivation seems to be the satisfaction of the need to nurture friendly relations. The chairmanship of the Delegation is, as it happens, especially effective in satisfying this type of emotional desire in several ways. As an institutional structure, the Delegation is flexible: The Chair can arrange his or her priorities with some autonomy. European issues allow one to develop relations with many people specialised in different sectors and to embark on many projects in European countries. The chairmanship also provides the opportunity to pursue para-diplomatic activities with representatives of different states.

I developed a lot of relationships with parliamentarians in candidate countries, with their European Affairs Committees, and quite regularly with ambassadors from these countries in Paris. Of course, I saw ambassadors from Member States of the Union, but the work in political relations was very good, very informal. I invited them almost every quarter to lunch or dine at the Assembly, and they all came.

The casual structure of the Delegation favours this type of practice. Furthermore, Barrau remained in the background of debates led by 250 O. ROZENBERG

partisans of the change of status from Delegation to Committee. The fact that the Delegation cannot rule on primary political questions offers room for manoeuvre to its Chair and renders it even more suitable to creating a convivial atmosphere.

Whether the Delegation is called the Committee, well, in reality it doesn’t change much practically speaking […] The fact is, it wouldn’t have given a lot more room to manoeuvre, it could even have constrained me, my territory would have been more limited, if you will.

As with Pandraud, Barrau’s psychological goals had several consequences for Delegation activities. For three years, Barrau instigated all kinds of meetings: a succession of 11 hearings of well-known politicians in 2001 (‘European Tuesdays’), half a dozen public symposia, a variety of ad hoc events, (for example, the Portrait of the Future of Europe, with several hundred guests from the NGO sector), the reception of parliamentary delegations from Eastern Europe, trips aboard, joint meetings with certain standing committees within the Assembly, monthly lunches with EU-candidate ambassadors, etc. Participation at these various events was by invitation from the Chair and, regarding politicians, came from across the political spectrum.

I always invited the opposition. I still have good relations with Jean-Louis Debré,24 I used to say to him, “Listen, we’re doing with, the RPR must be present”. The PC MPs attended regularly. I had a very active Green Vice-Chair who I really like, Marie-Hélène Aubert.

The desire to establish connections, to meet people, and to facilitate introductions was not limited to the parliamentary field. The workshops regularly received trade unions and representatives from professional organisations and NGOs. The conviviality incentive led Barrau to angle the Delegation toward specific activities and to theorise the new role for parliaments within the twofold context of the EU and of the growth of non-party actors. According to his views, Parliament should be ‘a place for meetings about the big issues at stake’. The legitimacy of the assembly depends therefore on its capacity to voice public debate—including on European issues—by organising a dialogue between contradictory stakeholders.

This is one of my theses: The Assembly is a locus of representative democracy, but if we don’t want participatory democracy to remain just a slogan, then the 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 251

Assembly must contribute to this trend. The Assembly should be a place where participatory democracy is invited in, a place for the starting of…

The Delegation of the National Assembly for the EU did open itself to NGOs and various societal interests during the chairmanship of Barrau. However, the emphasis placed on meetings had unexpected consequences, such as a lower priority for standard scrutiny of EU documents, difficulties in involving other MPs in all those meetings, and a certain dissipation of efforts. Lastly, the aversion of club members to conflict can limit accuracy when scrutiny of the cabinet’s European policy is conducted. A parliamentary report produced by the Delegation praising the Nice Treaty, which was otherwise unanimously decried at the time, and also the much- criticised strategy of the French government during the Council of Nice of December 2000, illustrates this point.25 The contrast with Pandraud’s more aggressive style is striking.

Pierre Lequiller: Rubbing Shoulders with the Bigwigs Pierre Lequiller was born in London in 1949. A graduate of the prestigious business school in 1971 and Sciences Po, he began his career as a banking executive before being elected to several political offices in the Yvelines: Town Councillor in 1977, Département Councillor in 1979 and Mayor of Louveciennes (a small and rich city of 7000 inhabitants near Paris) in 1985. He belonged first to the Republican Party, a branch of the UDF, and joined Alain Madelin in the Liberal Democracy Party in 1988. Fourteen years later, he entered the UMP. He was an MP from 1988 to 2017 without interruption and sat on the Delegation for the EU from 1997 to 2017. At the same time as his comrade-in-arms Jean-Pierre Raffarin assumed the title of Prime Minister in 2002, Lequiller succeeded Barrau as Chair of the Delegation. He would leave this post 10 years later in 2012 with the change in majority. Interviewed after a half-year of active chairmanship in March 2003, while American forces were fighting in Iraq and the last months of the Convention on the Future of Europe were unfurling, Lequiller expressed his intense satisfaction with this post.

Chairing the Delegation is a lot of work. What makes you go? Ah, it’s a passion! It’s because I’m fascinated. Honestly, I won’t make any confidences, but it’s the first time in my life that, professionally speaking, I feel completely at home […] Since Europe is so important, you have access on a daily 252 O. ROZENBERG

basis to people such as Raffarin, Villepin, Lenoir, Juppé, Barrot.26 Europe is so important that we work with fascinating people, and even at the international level, at the Convention. At the Convention, I am almost the only one who has never been a minister. They all are former Prime Ministers, Foreign Affairs Ministers, etc. And so, the level of discussion is absolutely wonderful.

The quotations above illustrate the satisfaction felt by keeping the company of great men and women, especially at the Convention. They recall the words of a British MP quoted by Searing to illustrate the motivations of the sub-role he called status seekers: ‘To be honest, what I really enjoy most is the meeting of high-level people from different countries that one would never have met before’ (Searing 1994, p. 165). According to Payne, the need for prestige and public recognition is one of the most frequent emotional incentives shared by politicians, without neglecting the lure of public recognition for political activities. As indicated by the classification of this sub-role among the role of Parliament men rather than ministerial aspirants, status seeking is not tantamount to ambition. An MP may try to grow closer to high-flying politicians without really hoping to become one of them. Status seekers may know that this ambition is beyond them. Alternatively, keeping the company of great men and women may give this kind of MP enough satisfaction. Lequiller’s words echo this analysis. Asked about his motivations, within a minute the MP lists the names of right-wing French leaders and speaks of former Prime Ministers he has met. He particularly savours the experience at the Convention.

So we speak a lot about the Convention. Yesterday, I received Monsieur Prodi, President of the Commission. A week ago, I received Monsieur Delors. We had in-depth discussions together. I have received many European Commissioners, many European ministers, many … And of course, French ministers: Monsieur de Villepin, Madame Lenoir… Monsieur Gaymard, we heard him just three days ago on agricultural matters.27

Lequiller succeeded Barrau as the National Assembly representative to the Convention on the Future of Europe in 2002 and 2003. The experience so impressed him that he adopted the habit of presenting himself with the uncommon French word of ‘conventionnel’ (that is, a Convention member) and afterward as ‘former conventionnel’. He proposed in vain to prolong the Convention by some months. Within it, he promoted the 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 253

‘single presidency’, an original idea to create a common chair for the Commission and the Council. He did his utmost to defend that idea, meeting all types of people, drafting editorials in newspapers, and signing a report for the Schuman Foundation. In the introduction to this report, whose personal tone contrasted with the style of the document as a whole, he explained how he enjoyed meeting famous leaders in words very similar to those he used during the interview: ‘When turning over the pages of the organigram I realise the significance of this assembly [the Convention] all the more: how many prestigious names, how many Prime Ministers and ministers, commissioners and famous parliamentarians there were…’ (Lequiller 2003, p. 8). Without reducing the analysis to this dimension alone, Lequiller’s behaviour during the Convention can be analysed through his psychological profile. He did not miss any plenary sessions—a civil servant explained: ‘For him, it was sacred’ (I51)—although meetings of the working groups, of the party groups, or of the components of the Convention, at which he was less often present, can be regarded as more crucial (Deloche-Gaudez 2007). In contrast to his assiduity at the Convention, his attendance at the half-yearly meetings of the COSAC was very irregular, unlike that of his counterparts in the Senate or at Westminster. Of course, the COSAC attendees are not nearly as prestigious as those at the Convention. During the Convention, the promotion of a single presidency, an original and simple idea, ensured that he was quickly identified among the 100 members. He met some top-ranking leaders to sell his idea, such as the President of the Commission Romano Prodi, with whom he spoke for more than an hour. Lastly, concerned for his own independence as a Convention member, Lequiller invested his own time and energy in the drafting of the Constitutional Treaty but did not involve his Delegation. A clerk from the Delegation explains: ‘It was important for Lequiller not to have any debate with the Delegation about the Convention’ (I51). Apart from the opportunity to attend the Convention, itself an exceptional event, chairing the Delegation gives rise to numerous occasions to rub shoulders with the great and powerful. The chair remains close to European leaders not only through the activities of the Committee—and notably the hearings—but also because of greater access to prestigious titles and positions. Lequiller’s role facilitated his assumption of a long list of posts. In the 2000s, he was variously Vice-President of the European People Party (EPP), member of the board of the European Movement— France, and member of the political board of the UMP. Chairing the 254 O. ROZENBERG

Delegation thus paved the way for party-related, electoral, international, and even para-diplomatic activities. From 2002 to 2004, he was the UMP spokesperson for European issues. In March 2003, during the invasion of Iraq, Prime Minister Raffarin and the UMP President Alain Juppé asked Lequiller (who is fluent in English) to initiate contact with US Congresspersons. In 2004, he led the UMP electoral campaign for the European elections. In March 2006, he vociferously opposed his replace- ment by Michel Barnier as Vice-President of the EPP and was granted the unprecedented authorisation to participate in the half-yearly summit of this European federation of parties, despite his eviction.28 Those elements lead one to think that Lequiller played the Bourbonian role of status seeker in a vein that could be called ‘the who rubs shoulders with the great and powerful’. This choice led him to emphasise some features of the Delegation and to the development of new European activities within the French Parliament. Comprehensive scrutiny of European legislative projects continued but was no longer a priority, as indicated by the decrease in the mean number of resolutions enacted each year by the Assembly (see Fig. 2.5). Symposia, which were so numerous when Barrau was chairing, were no longer organised. On the other hand, hearings were still frequent. Above all else, Lequiller used the fact that he was a member of the Conference of Presidents of the Assembly to effect the creation of new procedures and events. When he took over as chair in 2002, he tried to give the name of ‘committee’ to the Delegation for Europe, accepting that a European committee would not have as much power as the six existing committees. He failed due to the determined opposition of the Chair of the Foreign Affairs Committee, Balladur, and had to wait until 2008 for success. In another initiative, some top-ranking European leaders—José Manuel Barroso, Tony Blair, José Luis Zapatero, Valery Giscard d’Estaing—were allowed to take the floor at the Assembly. Contrary to convention, their speeches were followed by a parliamentary debate during which the Chair of the Delegation was one of the first orators to speak. To name another innovation, a session of oral questions related to European issues was also organised on the first Wednesday of each month. A member of the cabinet was heard before each European Council. Lequiller lamented that on these occasions the Prime Minister was ‘unfortunately usually represented by the Foreign Affairs Minister, which reduces the solemn and symbolic value of that hearing’.29 In July 2005, in a note to the Speaker of the Assembly, Lequiller suggested asking Channel 3 (state) television to cover the debate on the floor of the house, before and 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 255 after each European Council. Media coverage of European affairs in general, and of Parliament’s European activities in particular, has thus constituted a recurrent theme of Lequiller’s chairmanship. Indeed, for a short time, he employed a personal assistant to deal with relations with the media.

[One of my priorities] is to make the press, the newspapers, the television talk about Europe. Because I think that in this country we don’t speak about Europe, we are really behind other countries, and the television, well … Watch the BBC, which asks me questions and interviews me practically every two days. It’s not that same situation at all in France, it’s very bad because we should speak a lot about it.

In addition to reports by the Delegation, he also published a defence plea of the Constitutional Treaty during the French referendum of 2005 (Lequiller 2005), a draft of a new treaty in 2007 (Lequiller 2007) and a new note during the European elections of 2009 (Lequiller 2009). Without contradiction of Lequiller’s proclaimed passion for Europe, it would appear that the activities developed during his decade as Chair tended to favour the presence of top-ranking personalities and events with media potential. His version of the European specialist thus tends to lean towards the former role of status seeker under the Europeanised shape of ‘the one who rubs shoulders with the great and powerful’.

* * *

A number of valuable assets facilitated the institutionalisation of the role of the European specialist: the wide evocative power of the word Europe and, as a consequence, the ease with which it could be appropriated; the emphasis (over-emphasis, in fact) within the French political class on the unprecedented importance of European matters at the turn of the 1990s; the existence of a specific institutional and procedural framework to which the Assemblies devoted significant resources; the willingness of a number of parliamentarians, including prominent politicians such as Michel Barnier and Elisabeth Guigou, to play this role, and finally, the continuity of per- sonnel and structures (the 10-year chairmanships of Hubert Haenel and Pierre Lequiller). Nevertheless, in the French Parliament, European experts are seeking a role. The fact that the title Monsieur Europe stills fails to designate a formal parliamentary role does not mean that the National Assembly and the Senate are inactive or indifferent to European matters. 256 O. ROZENBERG

It does, however, indicate a failure to institutionalise control of European affairs, given the measures deployed, the prerogatives obtained, and the strategies developed by certain parliamentarians. In this regard, the history of the delegations and of Article 88-4 recalls the effort to establish a system for evaluation of public policies, an effort which, despite some clear progress, remains ongoing legislature after legislature. Europe specialists have failed to find a role mainly because of lack of influence. Although the principle of prior control of European decisions and the development of expertise within the Assemblies implicitly aim to give Europe specialists influence, this objective has not been achieved, for a host of reasons concerning the modes of governance of the EU, France, and the French Parliament. The Assemblies are not necessarily powerless regarding European matters, but any influence they do have is not exerted through the scrutiny of draft EU legislation. Parliamentarians who have the profile of a specialist are rarely interested in the ‘art for art’s sake’. They are willing to spend time mastering a complex issue if they can subsequently have the satisfaction of contributing to actual policy, if only indirectly. The fact that everyday parliamentary work on Europe does not satisfy this desire leads most specialists to turn their backs on specialised bodies, only to engage with European matters on an irregular basis, in particular when directives are being transposed. Consequently, a number of these specialists, without ever having the title of Monsieur Europe, are required from time to time to Europeanise their activities. In this way, they can have a greater impact on the course of events. The fact that the Committee for European Affairs rarely sees its efforts and expertise converted into influence and an institutional recognition within the Assemblies has two consequences. Firstly, with a few exceptions, the delegations and subsequently committees remain neglected by parliamentarians, including their own members. A substantial portion of what the delegations produce is the work of large bodies of administrators. The parliamentary scrutiny of European affairs, which was intended to reduce the democratic deficit by involving elected officials in the legislative process and increase awareness of European matters among parliamentary representatives, ultimately results in the establishment of a bureaucracy producing large quantities of in-depth, balanced, academic- style analysis. Secondly, since the influence of the delegations’ work on public policy is only questionable, they are constituted of elected officials who are not identified as specialists in Parliament but perform other roles. 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 257

Some want to remain well-informed and satisfy their intellectual curiosity, while others are more attracted by the collective dimension and want to animate lively and friendly meetings of the European Affairs Committee. The oversight of European affairs enables them to mingle with their colleagues in an organisational setting. Being a member of the Delegation offers a chance to meet a wide range of people and occasionally rub shoulders with some of Europe’s leading politicians. The emotional motivations of these different types of ‘Bourbonians’ are therefore the desire for social interaction, the love of playing games, and the pursuit of high status. In this regard, the detailed study of the motivations of successive Chairs of the Delegation and the Committee of the Assembly can be explained by two contradictory interpretations. On the one hand, it appears that the convergence between the personal, often intimate, aspirations of these MPs and the position of Chair has engendered a form of specialised control over European affairs. All the chairs, from Pandraud to Lequiller, took their work seriously. Robert Pandraud oversaw the increasing power of the Delegation and managed to avoid a paralysing split between the pro- and anti-Maastricht groups within it. Henri Nallet mobilised the Delegation to get in-depth reports produced. Alain Barrau organised a great many hearings and seminars. Pierre Lequiller was an active and high-profile member of the Convention. The gratification of the psychological aspirations of certain elected officials thus transforms their private passions into public virtues. The problem of the motivation of elected officials, which has been known at least since Bentham (Elster 2013) to be a sometimes-heavy bur- den, is thus, if not solved, then at least made less acute. Moreover, the various roles played in the European Affairs Committees have (often implicitly) developed different standards regarding the place of national parliaments in European governance, none of which should be discarded. On the other hand, the Chairs did failed to pique the interest of parliamentarians who were not members of the delegations—or even some who were. Above all and for many reasons, the dissociation between the Europe specialists, the members of a little-known club which receives little recognition, and other elected officials is regrettable. Indeed, examinations of the opening of negotiations over Turkey’s accession or of Social Europe reveals the extent of the disconnect between parliamentary expertise, legislation, and debates. If the diversity of parliamentary activity is normally a sign of the political and social density in this milieu, this disjointed approach to European matters borders on the schizophrenic. 258 O. ROZENBERG

Notes 1. Information report no. 441 by Jean Bizet, op. cit. 2. In March 2000, the Lisbon European Council formulated a Strategy for Growth and Jobs, based on the Open Method of Coordination (OMC). 3. Martine Aubry was Minister of Social Affairs from 1997 to 2000, when she was succeeded by Elisabeth Guigou. 4. National Assembly information report no. 2751, made by the EU Delegation, on public utilities in Europe, presented by Fuchs, 23 November 2000. 5. In November 1997, an Extraordinary European Council on Employment was held in Luxemburg. It concluded that a strategy coordinating national employment policies should be put in place. 6. National Assembly Report no. 2423, made by the EU Delegation, on social dumping in Europe, presented by Gorce, 25 May 2000. 7. National Assembly Report no. 2729, made by the EU Delegation, on the schedule for social policy, presented by Gorce, 16 November 2000. 8. National Assembly Report no. 1645, made by the EU Delegation, on the proposed directives relating to railways in the Community’s railways, presented by Boulaud, 27 May 1999. 9. National Assembly report no. 2138, made by the EU Delegation, on proposals for the French Presidency of the EU, presented by Barrau, 3 February 2000. 10. National Assembly report no. 2053, made by the EU Delegation, on the proposed directive of the European Parliament and Council regarding services in the internal market, presented by Anne-Marie Comparini, 2 February 2005. 11. National Assembly information report no. 2111, made by the Committee on Economic Affairs, the Environment and Regional Affairs, on a motion for a resolution tabled by Comparini, Ayrault and Deprez, relating to a proposal for an EP and Council directive on services in the internal market, by Decou, 1 March 2005. 12. Le Monde, 17 March 2005. 13. François Randour (2018) observes that parliaments are all the more willing to let the ministers’ hands be untied when an issue is domestically salient. 14. National Assembly information report no. 1834, 12th Parliament, on Turkey and the EU, made on behalf of the EU Delegation, and written by Lengagne, 5 October 2004. 15. ‘Gaz: le gouvernement renonce à présenter un amendement sur l’ouverture du marché’, Agence France Presse, 5 December 2001. 16. National Assembly information report no. 391, made on behalf of the Delegation for the EU, on the transposition of the directive relating to the 8 THE EUROPEAN SPECIALIST IN SEARCH OF A ROLE 259

common rules for the internal market in natural gas, Christian Philip, 21 November 2002, p. 41. 17. Conseil d’Etat, Directives européennes: anticiper pour mieux transposer, Paris, La documentation française, 2015, p. 47. 18. Source: Observatory of European Institutions (Sciences Po). 19. Engagement letter from Manuel Valls to the Vice-President of the Council of State, 24 November 2014. 20. Parliament men was the smallest of these groups in the House of Commons (9% of backbenchers). See: Searing (1994, chapter 5). 21. The French Yves-Thibault de Silguy was member of the European Commission in charge of Economic and Financial Affairs from 1995 to 1999. In this capacity he supervised the introduction of the euro. 22. Within the role of Parliament men, Searing identifies three sub-roles: the club men, the spectators and the status seekers (1994: 131–95, here p. 177). 23. Payne notes that politicians who are motivated by a desire for conviviality are not the most ambitious and are rather shy about claiming to be an expert on a subject (Payne et al. 1986, p. 81). 24. At the time the leader of the RPR group in the National Assembly. 25. Report no. 2905 of the Delegation of the National Assembly for the EU presented by Barrau, about the French presidency, 31 January 2001. 26. Jean-Pierre Raffarin was Prime Minister, Dominique de Villepin Foreign Affairs Minister, Noëlle Lenoir Junior Minister for Europe, Alain Juppé President of the UMP, and Jacques Barrot chaired the UMP group of the National Assembly. 27. Hervé Gaymard was Minister for Agriculture. 28. ‘Barnier et Lequiller dans le même fauteuil’, Le Figaro, 30 March 2006. 29. Quotation from a debate organised by the governmental Centre d’analyse stratégique in which Lequiller was seemingly invited as a specialist of media coverage of European affairs. In ‘Information sur l’Europe en France: Crise de l’offre, crise de la demande?’, Horizons stratégiques, no. 6, 2007, p. 15.

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Conclusion

Sometime around 2005, the European Affairs Department of the Assembly left the Boulevard Saint Germain for Rue Saint Dominique a short walk away. A glimpse of the department’s new location bolsters the impression, previously discussed that the apparent Europeanisation of the French is a trompe-l’oeil. The functional, modern facilities call to mind the significant resources available for parliamentary review of European questions, yet the building itself, located several streets over from the Palais-Bourbon, seems quite removed from the normal tumult of politics. Apart from the Committee Chairs, the parliamentarians do not have their own offices there, and the corridors seem to have been abandoned to the clerks. Above all, the decision to gather all the Assembly bodies concerned with the ‘exterior’ of the country (the Foreign Affairs Committee and the Armed Forces Committee as well as European Affairs) in a single space is a perfect indication of the diplomatic approach to European questions. Essentially, Europe remains a far-flung affair, held at a distance from legislative procedure, from the standing committees tasked with examining laws, and from the Floor, the sanctum sanctorum of the Assembly. If there exists one domain where topography carries political significance, it is surely Parliament, whose campaign for independence triumphed with the establishment of an autonomous space (Gardey 2015). In the rigid, hierarchical spaces making up the Assemblies, Europe has been relegated to the margins. However, two alternate approaches—empirical and conceptual—have allowed us to elucidate another dimension of French Parliament’s

Europeanisation. Empirically, we have highlighted diverse points of contact between the individual parliamentarian and the European Union (or what he or she considers a matter related to it). The qualitative and sub- jectivist approach yields a wealth of elements that a purely institutional perspective might neglect: grant applications and career paths, to name two examples. The conceptual viewpoint, on the other hand, examines parliamentary roles using a motivational approach founded on clear-cut theoretical choices regarding politicians’ behaviour as well as institutional change. This approach is based on two axioms. The first is that parliamentarians’ activities are viewed as interpretations of pre-existing behavioural norms. A mix of strategic calculations and desires for immediate gratification determines how MPs choose and interpret those roles. The second is that the economy of parliamentary roles is stable over time: roles tend to change slowly, and politicians cling to their initial choices. This stability is due in part to the constancy of the rules of the political game and of the important parliamentary functions that these roles must fulfil: representation, legislation, oversight, socialising, selection of ministers, etc. And yet, roles do change, and the parliamentary repertoire slowly adjusts to systemic political changes such as those affecting constitutional rules, political financing, media portrayal of political activity, and qualifications for ministerial candidacy. France’s participation in the EU, like other general phenomena, slowly and incrementally influences ways of life in Parliament. In the years following the vote on the Maastricht Treaty, while European integration experienced both unprecedented development and a series of crises, the range of French Parliament roles gradually, unevenly, and heterogeneously adjusted to Europe. Table 9.1 summarises these changes. The most common family of roles assumed by MPs in France has been, until 2017 at least, under the umbrella of the constituency member. Politicians’ lack of interest in Europe, which they perceive as a complex and remote level of governance, is therefore the main cause of the neglect of European questions in French Parliament. Nevertheless, one sub-group of this role has adapted to Europe. Certain local promoters and, more rarely, local welfare officer types amongst MPs have poured their energies into projects of normative, legal, or financial nature involving European resources. More importantly, the cyclically occurring, vehement outbursts by defenders of land and tradition on European matters mobilise substantial numbers of MPs and attract considerable media coverage. The 9 CONCLUSION 265

Table 9.1 Europeanisation of French Parliamentary roles (1992–2017)

Family of role Role Change in the European context

Constituency Welfare officer and • lack of interest in the EU from MPs carrying member local promoter a local mandate • increase of MPs acting as mediators Defender of land • intermittent activism en masse and tradition Policy advocate Ideologue • spread, then dwindling of Sovereigntists • very few Federalists, some MPs against globalisation Specialist • progressive Europeanisation of experts • few Europe specialists Ambitious Ministerial aspirant • little European adaptation of political careers MP High flyer, • use of European reference for prestige presidential aspirant • use by some outsiders of Europe as a niche market Parliament man Club man • the active members of the Delegation/ Committee Status seeker • some members of the Delegation/Committee who seek recognition (the ‘ones who rub shoulders with the great and powerful’)

impossibility of transcribing the 1979 ‘birds directive’ provides evidence of this tendency. Policy advocates are strongly differentiated into various sub-roles. Ideologues and generalists have led few battles over European questions. Although neo-Marxist ideologues have used the fight against liberalism to encourage opposition to various EU projects, their influence has remained limited. Specialists, on the other hand, have progressively incorporated European issues, since, in most sectors of public policy, mastery of European aspects has become necessary for the development of expertise. European proficiency, however, remains ancillary: specialists in energy or immigration may occasionally be interested in a directive or a White Paper, but the essence of their duties have not changed. Two sub-roles related to the policy advocate have developed specifically in reaction to the move toward European integration. Sovereigntists, a distinct strain of ideologue, frequently denounced the evils of European treaties in the parliamentary forum in the 1990s. Progressively, their number has declined. Nonetheless, they represented for some a recognisable role in the parliamentary cast. Another distinct and rare role, the European specialist, 266 O. ROZENBERG found a niche in the Delegations/Committees for the EU. However, few politicians have been drawn to this role, given the difficulty of gaining recognition for their field of expertise and their lack of influence over the course of European politics. With some exceptions, the role never ‘took’, and active members of bodies specialised in review of European affairs have turned to Parliament man or to the Bourbonian role. Parliament men, the enduring category identified by Searing, covers parliamentary profiles of those more involved inside than outside Parliament. Many active members of the Delegation (later the Committee) for the EU have taken on the sub-role of club member, whose foremost motivations include socialising and maintaining status. Other politicians are drawn to the prestige associated with European activities, especially through contact with European decision-makers. We may interpret their profiles as belonging to the role of status-seeker under the European cast of the ‘ones who rub shoulders with the great and powerful’. Finally, ambitious politicians tend to neglect European issues that they see as boring and distant, thus falling prey to a certain mimetic aversion. Party leaders do not reward politicians’ dedication to scrutiny in European affairs. And yet, Europeanisation of ministerial and presidential aspirants has surfaced in two forms. Europe is either invoked as a prestigious reference or exploited by outsiders vying for the leadership of their party. If European expertise, experience, and even thought are only secondary contributors to MPs’ political capital, some internal party struggles therefore encompass European matters. In all, changes instigated by French Parliament’s Europeanisation are related to a diverse array of phenomena specific to each type of MP or Senator. The constituency member understands Europe as an ensemble of new constraints and opportunities shaping the management of local government or the practice of local activities. Local promoters compile applications to benefit from EU funds. Defenders of land and tradition, prompted by certain organised groups in their districts, are quick to oppose some European projects: the impression that European norms are imposed from on high, with no collaboration or recourse possible, resonates with this type’s principal concerns. In the same way, the partisans of European construction, by employing unanimist justifications in public debate, provoked a sovereigntist backlash in the past. For specialists and Bourbonians in Parliament, Europe is perceived through the norms it produces. Some of these MPs become involved in European affairs thanks in part to the existence and gradual reinforcement of institutional structures 9 CONCLUSION 267 dedicated to the examination of draft EU acts. Finally, the relative neglect of European affairs encourages some ambitious politicians to take up the questions, either to gain distinction or to add a European aspect to their public persona. Elements that contribute to Europeanisation of roles, summarised in Table 9.2, vary in type. Some derive from Parliament’s internal organisation, others from European norms and policy-making, and others from the way in which the national political system conducts debates over Europe. The multi-dimensionality of European issues—that is, the difficulty of articulating European debate around the majority-opposition split—is conducive to multiple reading grids, in terms of distance and proximity (the defenders of land and tradition), gain or loss of sovereignty (sovereigntists) or the validity of choices made on European matters by the leader of the party (high flyers).

Table 9.2 Factors in Europeanisation of French MPs (1992–2017)

Role Factors in Europeanisation

Welfare officer and local • can potentially act as an intermediary promoter • daily confrontation with European norms in management of local governments; opportunities to assemble European files Defender of land and • responsive mobilisation of social groups within tradition constituencies • reaction to remoteness and primacy of European norms and to the judicialisation of conflicts Sovereigntist • reaction to unanimist legitimisation of European treaties and to the path-dependant style of European integration • opportunistic use of the parliamentary framework Specialist • based on the highly technical character and high volume of European documentation • procedures specific to Parliament (88-4) Ministerial and presidential • intrinsic prestige in Europe connections aspirants • a strategy of taking power internally, based on a European doctrine Club man • existence of a specific structure for social activity: the Delegation/Commission • the Delegation/Commission’s day-to-day organisational autonomy One who rubs shoulders with • opportunity to frequent top-level European leaders the great and powerful • para-diplomatic trips in other Member States 268 O. ROZENBERG

MPs’ adaptation to European integration can be described and partially explained through roles as intermediary variables. Elements conducive to Europeanisation can in this way be defined through the MP’s adopted role. The interpretation of a role is also a cognitive process by which Europe is interpreted: European construction is viewed through these roles and sub-roles. MPs make sense of Europe by playing them. This approach, however, does not suffice to explain the entire process. Two questions remain: firstly, why does a given politician favour one role over another? Why did Alain Marleix and Laurence Dumont act as local promoters? The MP Henri Sicre and Senator Anne Heinis as defenders of land and tradition? Henri Nallet and Elisabeth Guigou as European experts? François Bayrou as a federalist critic and Laurent Fabius as the champion of the ‘no’ vote on the Constitution? The second question concerns the prescriptive power of roles: how do different politicians with various goals eventually blend into the established Parliamentary reper- tory? Why, for example, should an MP continue to play the ‘hunter-MP’ 800 miles from his constituency, far from his voters? I propose two possibilities. Firstly, the affirmation of identity is an important element of role-interpretation. Adopting a role means being known and acknowledged by one’s entourage, which in turn strengthens self-esteem. MPs conform to a set of prescripts that may deflect them from their true personal preferences, strictly speaking. Such is the price, for a player within the institution, of creating a coherent self-image and consistency in the eyes of others. Second, the cases examined throughout this book provide evidence that MPs conform to these prescripts because they take pleasure in doing so. It is, in fact, the interpretation of a role that produces psychological gratification. The choice of ‘interpretation’ rather than ‘enactment’ and ‘prescripts’ rather than ‘constraints’ is meant to emphasise that MPs are not totally subsumed within their roles. Interpretation (in both the theatrical and cognitive sense) is a creative process of discovery rather than of imitation. The difference between the role-based and the rationalist approaches consists of immediate gratification involved in interpretation. Behaviour cannot merely be summarised as the formulation of strategies aimed at useful future results (re-election, influence, a ministerial office); it is also a search for instant gratification. According to the book Motivations of Politicians (Payne et al. 1986), psychological gratification associated with political activities has been conceptualised as an emotional spur: the need to work on concrete public policy issues (programme), the spirit of competition and victory (play), 9 CONCLUSION 269 the taste for prestige, the seeking of social activity, and the sense of duty, a moral and ethical impetus. In the final analysis, the will to satisfy these psychological aspirations represents the private spring of national parliaments’ European mobilisation. Table 9.3 summarises our results, emphasising that each emotional incentive lends meaning to politicians’ European activities and to Europe itself. Depending on the emotional incentives privileged by MPs, Europe is identified with individuals or with norms and is seen as offering opportunities in terms of careers or local projects yet may also be construed as a threat to a region, to the future of the country, or to democracy. Private pleasures mediate and facilitate public parliamentary action. The capacity of personal affects to serve collective functions derives from

Table 9.3 Types of psychological gratificationassociated with European involvement (1992–2017)

Role Personal emotional Involvement in reaction Europe incentive to… understood as…

Local promoter Programme: launch …complex, innovative Challenge, local projects with files to be assembled opportunity real-life effects Welfare officer and Duty: redress wrongs …decisions made at high Attack on the defender of land committed against echelons without identity and territory the electorate respecting local particularities Sovereigntist Duty: re-establish the …a political debate cut Lies, ‘Truth’ at all costs short by unanimism, manipulation which must be denounced Ministerial and Play: compete and …a subject that enables to Tactical presidential aspirants win; Prestige challenge the leader of opportunity his/her camp Specialist Programme: master a …numerous complex Legal European file projects that must be production through expertise studied before any modification Club member Social activity: make …interesting and Social circle friends, gain agreeable people to meet acceptance, offer support One who rubs Prestige: to be …famous, fascinating VIP club shoulders with the recognized, to meet people to meet great and powerful recognized people 270 O. ROZENBERG the interdependence of emotion and institution, and this is precisely what is expressed by the concept of the role. Anthropological tradition holds that emotions and affects are not simply constructed in an individual cut off from the world, but that ‘the realm of emotions […] is socially and culturally shaped’ (Braud 1996, p. 48). Furthermore, political institutions are malleable, manifold, and pluralist frameworks within which very dissimilar politicians can find ways to satisfy—as well as discover or adapt— their most personal aspirations. Undergoing institutionalisation during the period studied, French Parliament’s participation in Europe created a new picture of elective affinities and the two-way adjustment between personal psychological aspirations and the organisational framework offered. The European question thus enables us to study how political passions are institutionalised, when the increasingly routine nature of parliamentary behaviour, the rigidity of procedure and expectations, and the formalisation of role prescripts rarely allow politicians’ private motives to be identified. The lack of rational appeal of parliamentary activities in European affairs has been particularly useful for highlighting the importance of these passions and their institutionalisation through roles. However, the process does not seem limited to European activities, and thus permits us to outline a theory of parliamentary behaviour distinct from rationalism. In summation, this work’s conclusion must return to the question implied in its title: whether it is justifiable to speak of the ‘blues’. Has this taxonomy of a slew of roles altered by Europe, driven by personal passions, and capable of prompting collective action, belied the pessimistic picture of Assemblies in a state of depression? My response is, in essence, negative. Certainly, the diversity of the updated roles attests to the extent, the density, and the richness of parliaments as political institutions. Parliaments fulfil highly diverse functions within political systems, relating as much to the production of public good as to the representation of society. Despite their loss of power—even their marginalisation in many cases—their internal organisation reflects many dimensions of representative democracy and its workings. Although national parliaments lie outside of the institutional triangle in Brussels, the roles brought into play show the different modes of association within assemblies in the governance of the EU. Different parliamentary mobilisation schemes can thus be distinguished: decision-makers’ oversight and expertise vis-a-vis public policies, selection of leaders and participation in public debate (advocacy regime), socialising among elites (elite relational regime), and intercession between the district and decision-makers (mediation). Table 9.4 expands upon the 9 CONCLUSION 271

Table 9.4 Regimes of French national MPs activities in European matters (1992–2017)

Role Regime Type of activity Tools Locus

Local Mediation Represent, intercede, Informal, local Town Hall office, promoter, inform, research, projects, surgery, Paris the welfare advocate, undertake, letter-writing, office, prefectures, officer defend, put in written questions Brussels contact to government Defender of Advocacy Represent, conduct Private member Plenary sessions, land and discourse, advocate, bills, committees, study tradition defend, harass, amendments, oral groups, local obstruct, act as questions media witness Sovereigntist Advocacy Accuse, discourse, Procedural Plenary sessions, denounce, reveal, motions, private Salle des Quatre self-sacrifice, make member bills, Colonnes,a prophecies, threaten, diverse speeches colloquiums, insult associations Specialist Expert Oversight, offer Reports on bills Standing oversight expertise, conduct transposing EU committee, EU hearings, research, laws, resolutions Delegation/ recommend, Committee, study scrutinise, publish, groups, Paris monitor office Ministerial Selection of Support, frame, Books, op-eds, Salle des Quatre and leaders prepare ‘coups’, discourses on the Colonnes, presidential advocate, denounce, floor (oral parliamentary aspirants take by surprise, win, questions), blogs groups, media, lose parties, clubs, foundations Club man Expert Oversight, invite, Information EU Delegation/ oversight/ meet, exchange, reports, Committee, elitist- conduct dialogue, resolutions, National Assembly relational confront, travel, hold hearings, conference room, hearings colloquiums foreign parliaments (COSAC), foundations One who Elitist- Meet, cultivate Press articles, The Conference of rubs relational relationships, gain hearings, Presidents, shoulders access, approach, colloquiums, Brussels, foreign with the admire, travel, information parliaments, EP, great and imitate, recount reports embassies powerful experiences, make connections aWhere MPs and journalists meet, near the hemicycle 272 O. ROZENBERG perspective of each role, specifying their activities, the tools they employ, and the locus of activity. The parliamentary institutional framework lends itself to a plethora of mobilisation activities. Apart from the institution’s marked malleability, highlights national parliaments’ participation in European integration without limiting itself to one register. I have identified elsewhere five participatory models: government watchdog (i.e. the oversight of the government), policy shaper, expert, public forum, and European player (i.e. direct participation at the European level) (Rozenberg and Hefftler 2015, p. 27; see also Raunio 2011). Applied to 28 national parliaments, this set of criteria indicates that some chambers act according to several of these schemes, while others focus on only one or two (Neuhold and Smith 2015, p. 678). France, according to this analysis, draws on the ‘public forum’ model in some ways and the ‘expertise’ model in others (Thomas and Tacea 2015, p. 188). This multiplicity of positions is the result of the variety of roles involved in European issues. Each one carries a vision of what Parliament’s main European activity should be: adopting common positions, initiating debates, controlling the government, or being heard by European decision-makers. This study, like others that apply the role concept to the European Parliament (Brack 2018; Navarro 2012), con- cludes therefore that diverse behavioural and identificatory models within assemblies contribute discreetly, though essentially, to parliamentary pluralism. Parliaments usually express social pluralism through party antago- nism. If, with European issues, many elements restrain party pluralism, the variety of modes of parliamentary representation is at least evident. In other words, MPs have difficulty in credibly demonstrating a leftist Europe opposed to a rightist Europe, but they still manage to express a type of pluralism by, for example, acting as a local promoter in some cases or as sectoral specialist in others. However, the richness and variety of forms of parliamentary involvement cannot not mask the global decline of the whole Parliament. The observer of parliamentary life is sometimes struck by an impression of waning glory. In European matters, are our assemblies lighting the last fires of the parliamentary age of representative government, to adopt Manin’s terminology (Manin 1997)? Numerous signs of dysfunction, or of a system running on empty, have been examined: hearings unattended by MPs or journalists; reports written by clerks and neglected by all but a few; sparsely attended European Affairs Committee meetings; standing committees focused on legislative or budgetary concerns while neglecting 9 CONCLUSION 273

European questions; European resolutions managed from afar by government departments and the SGAE; directives transposed by decree; parliamentary groups dedicating a tiny portion of their resources to European expertise; gloomy night sessions during which European resolutions are quickly approved and forgotten; the Prime Minister’s freedom to attend or forgo debates on the European Council; removal of parliamentary reserves by agreement between governmental public servants and parliamentary clerks without participation of any politicians. The time elapsed since my first inquiries has not changed much. Thus, on 22 January 2018, a joint twofold ceremony was organised in the Assembly and Bundestag to celebrate the Treaty of the Elysée, symbolising Franco-German friendship. A session was organised in the morning in Berlin and in the afternoon in the Assembly. The comparison was bitterly discouraging. In the morning, the Reichstag was full of those who had come to listen to the Assembly Speaker. Chancellor Merkel was present. In the afternoon, a sparse Palais- Bourbon of some 150 MPs welcomed Wolfgang Schäuble, Speaker of the Bundestag. The Junior Minister for European affairs was the only government official present and she was late. A German MP might have said: ‘It was a bit sad’.1 Kind of blue, actually. The multiplicity of these problems relativises the positive elements that have been evoked: the numerous trips to Brussels, the comprehensiveness of informational reports and the public availability of relevant information on the EU, and, in 2014–2015, ministers’ closed-door hearings before the Councils of the EU—unfortunately forsaken since. Above all, comparisons with previous eras are revealing. Michel Mopin’s vast, erudite fresco, written shortly after Maastricht, testifies to moments of grandeur that seem all but lost (Mopin 1993).2 In 1951, Monnet, advisor to Schuman, was impressed by the virtuosity of orators during the ECSC Treaty. Georges Vedel, a future great jurist and at the time technical advisor to Maurice Faure, sitting behind the Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs, also mar- velled in 1957 at the quality and depth of debates during the preparation of the Treaties of Rome. Indeed, a first policy debate, culminating in a final vote, had lasted for no less than 12 days in an effort to influence the ongoing diplomatic negotiations. The Assemblies seem at this time to have been both talking and working parliaments: 13 committee reports on the Treaties of Rome were submitted to the Assembly and 10 to the Council of the Republic (i.e. the Senate). The contrast with the torpor under the Fifth Republic is only too striking. The lively constitutional revision sessions preceding the Maastricht Treaty’s ratification were as remarkable as 274 O. ROZENBERG they were isolated. The 200 MPs debating through the night of 12 May 1992 show that despite the straitjacket imposed by the Fifth Republic, the Parliament can work when it has the will—but it rarely does. The ‘blues’ around European activities are not necessarily nostalgia. The comparison with the Fourth Republic’s activities should, moreover, be tempered by the difficulty of governing these matters: several Prime Ministers (called Presidents of the Council) met their downfall advocating for the European Defence Community in the 1950s. It must nevertheless be concluded that whatever the Fifth Republic gained in efficiency of power, it lost in authenticity of parliamentary politics. In European matters, this lethargy exacerbates Eurosceptic tendencies. As seen in the list of roles, mobilisation takes the form of criticising loss of sovereignty, defending the local territory from Brussels, or staking one’s career on opposing treaties. Other roles, despite their influence as local mediators or rapporteurs for bills transposing directives, are barely if at all noticed in the public sphere. Pro-European politicians are rarely present unless, like Bayrou, they decide to wage a Eurosceptic-style war against a particular aspect of the EU. Thus, the Assembly sessions favour critics even though about eight of 10 politicians have supported treaties since the 1970s. One could retort that this paradox is not without virtue, given the injustice in the way French parliamentarians are selected. The two-round majority vote often deprives Eurosceptics and even Europhobes who vote far-right or far-left of parliamentary representation. Furthermore, as we have affirmed,3 the issue of Europe represents the greatest divergence between the opinions of MPs and their party sympathisers. From this point of view, the ‘bonus’ attached to criticising Europe in debates somewhat compensates for the representation deficit in the complacent eyes of party leaders, who use these occasions to channel opposition safely. This argument, however, falls short, given the dullness and toothless- ness of parliamentary debates over Europe. For Euroscepticism or Europhilia to have an effect, it must be invested with belief on the part of parliamentary players as well as voters. Belief is not the same as uncondi- tional support. The golden age of parliamentarianism in the early twentieth century was also that of anti-parliamentarianism. Belief is rather a manner of taking what happens in Parliament seriously and of considering it as important and deserving of perseverance and energy. The laboriousness of French Parliament’s mobilisation on Europe demonstrates many actors’ lack of conviction where Europe is concerned. Parliament’s torpor leaves the President and the government with almost free rein to follow whichever European policy they desire. Whether it is limiting budget 9 CONCLUSION 275

deficits, negotiating trade treaties, or deciding on the orientation of a multiannual financial framework, the executive branch acts with few constraints. Presidential candidates can also make numerous promises during their electoral campaigns without worrying that, once elected, Parliament will hold them to their word. For example, in 2012, the primary right- wing candidate could speak of quickly leaving the Schengen area and his left-wing counterpart of renegotiating the fiscal treaty; both felt free to make ambitious promises, knowing that their majority would give them carte blanche once in office (Dehousse and Tacea 2015). Therefore, the EU’s democratic deficit is due less to the absence of national parliaments’ scrutiny, to the transfer of sovereignty, or to the primacy of European law than to French Parliament’s inability to act as a judge, evaluator, and critic of the French government’s European policy. The European political system’s flawed process of democratisation can be understood as a failure by national parliaments to democratise Europe in turn. The subtle game of balancing parliamentarian emotional incentives with the functions of Parliament is not, finally, enough for meaningful oversight of the executive branch in European matters. This leads to the French Parliament’s manifest blend of impotency and isolation: its neglect of increasingly important public policy issues in European affairs combined with its valorisation of its most radical members. Indeed, we have observed several times that the mobilisation of hunter-MPs and sovereigntists, which is disproportionate to their numbers, fed into negative images not only of the EU but also of French parliamentarians themselves. In other words, the issue for national parliaments is not only, and perhaps not mainly, to ‘parliamentarise’ the EU but to defend their credibility as representative political institutions. The European democratic deficit therefore lies within the walls of the Palais-Bourbon. We have arrived at an impasse: the general loss of belief in the virtues of parliamentary mediation detracts from the possibility of establishing a genuine scrutiny for European questions within assemblies, but European integration continues to erode French Parliament’s legitimacy. This collective belief about the institution, which Pierre Legendre has highlighted as ‘the glue that holds the state together’ (Legendre 1999, p. 55), has certainly not been damaged only—or even principally—by European integration. Parliament suffers from other ills, which could be ignored only too conveniently since some legislation is now written in Brussels. I simply affirm that the French Parliament’s decline is partly due to Europe, or rather that the mix of dilettantism, radicalism, and bureaucratising that has characterised its adaptation to Europe has served it badly in several ways. 276 O. ROZENBERG

Notes 1. Les Echos, 23 January 2018. 2. The following examples are drawn therefrom. 3. See Chap. 3 and Kerrouche and Tiberj (2013).

References Brack, N. (2018). Opposing Europe in the European Parliament: Rebels and Radicals in the Chamber. Basingstoke: Palgrave. Braud, P. (1996). L’émotion en politique. Paris: Presses de Sciences Po. Dehousse, R., & Tacea, A. (2015). Europe in the 2012 French Presidential Election. In G. Goodliffe & R. Brizzi (Eds.), France After 2012 (pp. 152–166). New York: Berghahn Books. Gardey, D. (2015). Le Linge du Palais-Bourbon. Corps, matérialité et genre du politique. Lormont: Le Bord de l’Eau. Kerrouche, E., & Tiberj, V. (2013). Up and Down, Old and New: Values and Value Systems of MPs and Voters in France. The Journal of Legislative Studies, 19(2), 160–177. Legendre, P. (1999). Ces Collages qui font un Etat. Paris: Mille et une nuits. Manin, B. (1997). The Principles of Representative Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Mopin, M. (1993). Le Parlement et l’Europe à travers trois Républiques. Commentaire, (64), 749–760. Navarro, J. (2012). Les députés européens et leur rôle. Brussels: Éditions de l’Université de Bruxelles. Neuhold, C., & Smith, J. (2015). Conclusion. In C. Hefftler, C. Neuhold, O. Rozenberg, & J. Smith (Eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of National Parliaments and the European Union (pp. 668–686). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Payne, J., Woshinsky, O., Velben, E., & Coogan, W. (1986). Motivation of Politicians (2nd ed.). Chicago: Nelson-Hall. Raunio, T. (2011). The Gatekeepers of European Integration? The Functions of National Parliaments in the EU Political System. Journal of European Integration, 33(3), 303–321. Rozenberg, O., & Hefftler, C. (2015). Introduction. In C. Hefftler, C. Neuhold, O. Rozenberg, & J. Smith (Eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of National Parliaments and the European Union (pp. 1–39). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Thomas, A., & Tacea, A. (2015). The French Parliament and the European Union: “Shadow Control” Through the Government Majority. In O. Rozenberg, C. Hefftler, C. Neuhold, O. Rozenberg, & J. Smith (Eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of National Parliaments and the European Union (pp. 170–190). London: Palgrave Macmillan. Appendix: List of Interviews Held with Political Leaders

Indicated here are the positions held by the interviewees at the date of the interview (senators, MPs, MEPs and local government leaders).

• Pierre Albertini, 6 March 2002: MP (since 1993), UDF, Seine Maritime 2nd • René André, 27 November 2002: MP (since 1983), UMP, Manche 2nd; mayor of Avranches (1989–2001) • Marie-Hélène Aubert, 13 July 1999 (telephone) and 24 January 2002: MP (since 1997), Vert, Eure-et-Loir 4th • Dénis Badré, 18 December 2001: mayor of Ville d’Avray (since 1995); senator (since 1995), UDF, Hauts-de-Seine • Alain Barrau, 30 June 2003: MEP (1979–1984); MP (1986–1993, 1997–2002), PS, Hérault 6th • Christian Bataille, 5 December 2001: MP (since 1988), PS, Nord 22nd • Pervenche Berés, 25 February 2002: MEP (since 1994), PS • Jean-Marie Bockel, 30 January 2002: MP (1981–1984, 1986–1993 and since 1997), PS, Haut-Rhin 5th; government member (1984–1996); mayor of Mulhouse (since 1989)

© The Author(s) 2020 277 O. Rozenberg, The French Parliament and the European Union, French Politics, Society and Culture, https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-19791-9 278 APPENDIX: LIST OF INTERVIEWS HELD WITH POLITICAL LEADERS

• Didier Boulaud, 26 April 2000: MP (1993–2001), PS, Nièvre 1st; mayor of Nevers (since 1993) • Jean-Louis Bourlanges, 5 April 2002: MEP (since 1989), UDF • Jean-Pierre Brard, 25 October 2002 (telephone): mayor of Montreuil (since 1984); MP (since 1988), PC, Seine-Saint-Denis 7th • Jean-Christophe Cambadélis, 2 December 2002: MP (1988–1993 and since 1997), PS, Paris 20th • Nicole Catala, 20 November 2001: MP (1988–2002), RPR, Paris 11th • Gérard Charasse, 12 December 2001: MP (since 1997), RCV (radical de gauche), Allier 4th • Charles de Courson, 9 April 2001: MP (since 1993), UDF, Marne 5th • Jean-Claude Daniel, 29 January 2001: mayor of Chaumont (since 1995); MP (1997–2002), PS, Haute-Marne 1ère • Yves Dauge, 6 March 2002: MP (1997–2001), PS, Indre-et-Loire 4th; senator (since 2001) • Robert Del Picchia, 30 October 2001: senator (since 1998), RPR, representative for French persons living aboard • Bernard Derosier, 6 November 2001: MP (since 1978), PS, Nord 2nd; President of the North département (1985–1992 and since 1998) • Laurence Dumont, 12 December 2001: MP (1997–2002), PS, Calvados 5th • Hubert Durand-Chastel, 26 November 2001: senator (since 1990), unregistered, representative for French persons living aboard • Pierre Fauchon, 2 May 2000: senator (since 1992), UDF, Loir-et-Cher • Jean François-Poncet, 20 March 2002: government member (1978–1981); President of the Lot-et-Garonne département (1978–1994, since 1998); senator (since 1983), UDF, Lot-et-Garonne • Gérard Fuchs, 9 December 2002: MEP (1981–1984, 1989–1994); MP (1986–1998, 1997–2002), PS, Seine-Maritime 10th • Yann Gaillard, 14 November 2001: senator (since 1994), RPR, Aube • Jean Le Garrec, 19 November 2002: membre de gouvernements (1981–1986), MP (1986–1993, since 1997), PS, Nord 12th • Jacques Godfrain, 24 October 2001: MP (1978–1995, since 1997); mayor of Millau (since 1995); minister (1995–1997) • Gaëtan Gorce, 12 March 2003: MP (since 1997), PS, Nièvre 2nd APPENDIX: LIST OF INTERVIEWS HELD WITH POLITICAL LEADERS 279

• Elisabeth Guigou, 26 February 2003: government member (1990–1993, 1997–2002); MEP (1994–1997); MP (since 2002), PS, Seine-Saint-Denis 9th • Jean-Jacques Guillet, 24 October 2001: MP (since 1993), unregistered (groupe RPR jusqu’en 1999), Hauts-de-Seine 8th • Paulette Guinchard-Kunstler, 20 November 2002: MP (1997–2001, since 2002), PS, Doubs 2nd; government member (2001–2002) • Daniel Hoeffel, 5 March 2002: minister (1978–1981, 1993–1995); senator (since 1977), Union Centriste, Bas-Rhin • Michel Hunault, 22 October 2002: MP (since 1993), UMP, Loire- Atlantique 6th • François Huwart, 22 April 2003: mayor of Nogent-le-Rotrou (since 1989); MP (1997–1999, since March 2003), parti radical de gauche, Eure-et-Loir; government member (1999–2002) • André Lajoinie, 8 July 1999: MP (1978–1993, 1997–2002), PC, Allier 3th • Alain Lamassoure, 11 February 2002: MP (1986–1993), UDF, Pyrénées-Atlantiques 5th; MEP (1989–1993, since 1999); government member (1993–1997) • Lucien Lanier, 10 May 2000: senator (since 1988), RPR, Val-de-Marne • Jean-Claude Lefort, 13 June 2000: MP (since 1988), PC, Val- de-Marne 10th • Pierre Lellouche, 4 October 2002: MP (since 1993), UMP, Paris 4th • Pierre Lequiller, 13 March 2003 and 23 November 2006 (realized by Dana Manescu): mayor of Louveciennes (1985–2001), MP (since 1988), UMP, Yvelines 4th • Maurice Ligot, 6 July 1999: MP (1973–1976, 1978–2002), UDF, Maine-et-Loire 5th; government member (1976–1978) • François Loncle, 15 October 2002: MP (1981–1992, since 1997), PS, Eure 4th; mayor of Brionne (1982–1995); government member (1992–1993) • Christian de La Malène, 4 December 2001: MP (1958–1977), RPR, Paris 16th; government member (1961–1962, 1968); senator (since 1977), RPR, Paris; MEP (1979–1994) • Thierry Mariani, 6 November 2002: mayor of Valréas (since 1989); MP (since 1993), UMP, Vaucluse 4th 280 APPENDIX: LIST OF INTERVIEWS HELD WITH POLITICAL LEADERS

• Alain Marleix, 16 December 2002: MP (1984–1993); MP (since 1993), UMP, Cantal 2nd • Aymeri de Montesquiou, 12 April 2000: MP (1986–1988, 1993–1997), UDF, Gers 2nd; MEP (1989–1993); senator (since 1999), RDSE (UDF parti radical), Gers • Pierre Moscovici, 6 January 2003: MEP (1994–1997), minister (1997–2002) • Jacques Myard, 21 November 2001: Mayor of Maisons-Laffitte (since 1989); MP (since 1993), RPR, Yvelines 5th • Henri Nallet, 21 October 2002: minister (1985–1986, 1988–1992); MP (1986–1988, 1997–1999), PS, Yonne • Jean-Jack Oueyranne, 5 November 2002, MP (1981–1993, since 2002), PS, Rhône 7th • Robert Pandraud, 11 January 2002 and 20 November 2006: government member (1986–1988); MP (since 1988), RPR, Seine- Saint-Denis 8th • Christian Paul, 3 February 2003: MP (1997–2000, since 2002), PS, Nièvre 3th; government member (2000–2002) • Daniel Paul, 6 February 2002: MP (since 1997), PC, Seine- Maritime 8th • Vincent Peillon, 10 September 2002: (1997–2002), PS, Somme 3th • Christian Philip, 24 September 2003: MP (since 2002), UMP, Rhône 4th • Christian Pierret, 25 March 2003 and 9 April 2003 (telephone): MP (1978–1993, 1997), PS, Vosges 2nd; mayor de Saint-Dié (1989–1997 and since 2002); membre de gouvernement (1997–2002) • Etienne Pinte, 5 December 2001: MP (since 1973), RPR, Yvelines 1st; mayor of Versailles (since 1995) • Jean-Jack Queyranne, 5 November 2002: MP (1981–1993 and since 2002), PS, Rhône 7th; membre de gouvernements (1997–2002) • Paul Quilès, 19 March 2003: MP (1978–1983, 1986–1988, since 1993), PS, Tarn 1st; government member (1983–1986, 1988–1993); mayor of Cordes (since 1995) • Jean-Bernard Raimond, 4 December 2001: government member (1986–1988); MP (since 1993), RPR, Bouches-du-Rhône 14th • Yvette Roudy, 7 February 2002: government member (1981–1986); MP (1986–1993, 1997–2002), PS, Calvados 3th APPENDIX: LIST OF INTERVIEWS HELD WITH POLITICAL LEADERS 281

• Jean-Claude Sandrier, 4 February 2003: mayor of Bourges (1993–1995); MP (since 1997), PC, Cher 2nd • Claude Saunier, 28 November 2001: mayor of Saint-Brieuc (1983–2001); senator (since 1989), PS, Côtes of Armor • Henri Sicre, 13 February 2002: mayor of Céret (1983–2001); MP (since 1988), PS, Pyrénées-Orientales 4th • Jean-Marie Valerenberghe, 4 May 2003: MEP (1986–1989, 1993–1994); mayor of Arras (since 1995); senator (since 2001), UDF, Pas-de-Calais • Xavier de Villepin, 15 November 2002: senator (since 1986), UDF, representative for French persons living aboard Index1

A Common Agriculture Policy (CAP), Amendments, 15, 18, 43, 50, 64, 72, 13, 42, 102, 104, 107, 108, 106, 137–140, 144, 147, 148, 110–121, 123, 126, 127 153, 154, 161, 237, 239, 240 Comparison, 17, 21, 28–33, 41, 64, Article 88-4, 14, 16, 17, 23, 26, 27, 237, 273, 274 31, 38, 40, 47, 49, 93, 93n6, Constituency Members/constituency 94n20, 110, 173, 183, 256 members, 6, 92, 101–129, 130n16, 133, 134, 149–163, 264, 266 C Constitutions, 9, 10, 13–19, 23, Clerks, 11, 20, 21, 29, 40, 41, 43, 45, 27, 33, 36, 38, 43, 50–52, 50, 54n33, 72, 73, 102, 114, 53n11, 62, 64, 70, 78, 80, 171, 174, 195, 196, 198, 225, 81, 83, 91, 93n6, 94n20, 248, 253, 263, 272, 273 110, 122, 172, 175, 186, Cohabitation, 179, 180 200, 202–220, 226, 233, Cohesion policy, 102, 113–115, 119, 235, 268 129n7 COSAC, 20, 21, 29, 53n17, 54n20, Commissioner, 44, 47, 72, 117, 118, 65, 253 129n11, 142, 198, 199, 218, Cumulation of offices (cumul des 234, 236, 245, 252, 253 mandats), 101–103, 114

1 Note: Page numbers followed by ‘n’ refer to notes.

D Floor, 6, 18, 19, 29, 31, 36–39, 43, Defender of land and tradition, 44, 50, 53n13, 53n16, 72, 79, 133–163 162, 168, 188, 193, 205, 207, Directive, 4, 6, 11, 22, 27, 36, 48, 59, 208, 234, 235, 254, 263 62, 70, 72, 79, 90, 104, 113, Foreign Affairs Committee, 12, 34, 133–142, 145, 154, 157, 159–162, 50, 200, 204, 231, 254, 263 173, 196, 197, 227–230, 234–241, 256, 258n8, 258n10, 258n11, 258n16, 265, 273, 274 G Divided government, 7n7, 76, 94n13, Gaullist/neo-Gaullist, 1, 2, 11, 12, 33, 179, 181 34, 67, 76, 83, 103, 111, 157, 160, 166–168, 170, 171, 173, 177, 179, 187, 204, 214, 215 E Emotion/emotional, 5, 85, 86, 91, 92, 122, 128, 154, 168, 188, 208, H 248, 249, 252, 257, 268–270, 275 Hearing, 11, 19, 25, 26, 28, 29, 31, European Affairs Committee/ 34, 40, 41, 43, 44, 49, 51, 75, Delegation, 18, 20, 21, 23–29, 102, 109, 139, 163n7, 189n7, 31, 32, 34–44, 46, 47, 50, 51, 227, 246, 247, 250, 253, 254, 53n19, 55n39, 65, 66, 71–73, 257, 272, 273 75, 81, 94n10, 225, 241–243, High flyer/high-flyer, 93, 198, 199, 249, 257, 272 201, 214, 248, 267 European Commission, 4, 19, 21, 22, 27, 29, 31, 43, 49, 51, 72, 115, 120, 135, 136, 138, 142, 159, I 185, 190n17, 197, 200, 205, Ideologue, 92, 168, 188, 265 236, 259n21 Incentive, 85, 91, 92, 168, 188, 247, European Parliament/European 248, 250, 252, 269, 275 parliament, 4, 11, 19, 21, 29, 32, 117, 121, 135, 142, 167, 199, 201, 202, 258n10, 272 L Eurosceptic/Euroscepticism, 11, 20, Lisbon Treaty/Lisbon treaty, 19, 21, 33, 62, 169, 189, 214–220, 231, 32, 53n11, 76, 157, 158, 190n8 245, 246, 248, 274 Local, 6, 23, 37, 59, 65, 66, 68, 88, 90, 93, 101–104, 106–111, 114–116, 118, 119, 123–128, F 129n3, 129n9, 133, 134, 143, Federalist, 33, 64, 157, 174, 201, 202, 145–149, 152–161, 163, 163n1, 204, 214, 217, 219, 246, 268 198, 209, 211, 223, 248, 249, Fifth Republic, 14, 17, 20–23, 32, 264, 266, 268, 269, 272, 274 54n29, 54n30, 61, 69, 70, 79, Local Promoter/local promoter, 93, 83, 94n15, 160, 174, 273, 274 125, 127, 133, 161, 264, 266, 272 INDEX 285

M P Maastricht (Treaty)/Maastricht Parliamentary reserve, 116, 129n10, (treaty), 2, 10, 13, 36, 49, 64, 76, 225 165, 166, 170, 180, 182, 190n8, Plenary, 15, 29 203, 204, 207, 214, 224, 226, Presidential aspirant, 193, 266 245, 264, 273 Private member bills, 142, 170 Mayor, 68, 87, 101–107, 113–116, Psychological/psychology, 84–86, 88, 118, 119, 123–129, 129n2, 91, 92, 102, 119, 126, 128, 154, 129n4, 129n5, 157, 171, 181, 165, 182, 187, 243, 246, 250, 184, 198, 244, 247, 251 253, 257, 268–270 Members of the European parliament (MEP), 11, 67, 93n5, 121, 144, 167, 189n2, 198, 199, 201, 202, Q 213, 234 Question time, 1, 19, 37, 40, 73, 235 Ministerial aspirant, 90, 92, 93, 182, 193, 194, 202, 252 Motivation/motivational, 6, 32, 43, R 62, 65, 68, 72, 81, 85–88, Rational/rationality, 59–61, 64, 73, 91–93, 107, 110, 119, 121, 151, 81–88, 90, 91, 95n29, 270 163n1, 169, 171, 182, 211, 223, Regional Councillor, 130n17 242, 243, 249, 252, 257, 264, Regulation, 4, 9, 15, 17, 22, 46, 48, 266 104–106, 135, 137, 138, 154, 157, 161, 172, 173, 241, 243 Report, 6, 13, 18, 21, 25, 26, 28, 29, N 31, 38, 39, 41, 42, 45, 49, 52, Narrative, 124, 125, 127, 128, 165, 53n13, 53n19, 54n28, 54n29, 166, 175 54n31, 55n38, 55n39, 55n44, National Parliaments/national 66–68, 72, 73, 75, 94n10, 102, parliaments, 4, 6, 10, 11, 13, 15, 106, 109, 110, 127, 138, 139, 19–22, 28, 43, 67, 68, 82, 90, 142, 146, 148, 163n7, 170, 160, 163, 171–175, 217, 225, 195–197, 202, 205, 213, 216, 230, 236, 241, 257, 269, 270, 224–231, 235, 237, 239, 242, 272, 275 245, 246, 249, 251, 253, 255, 257, 258n1, 258n4, 258n9, 258n10, 258n11, 258n14, O 258n16, 259n25, 272, 273 Oral question, 19, 23, 37, 38, 43, Representation, 34, 38, 46, 63, 70, 170, 215, 254 72–74, 81, 86, 87, 89, 90, 111, Outsider, 6, 193–220, 266 112, 128, 162, 163, 172, 173, Oversight, 4, 5, 9, 22, 23, 28, 29, 33, 193, 264, 270, 272, 274 35, 39, 45–46, 48–50, 53n16, Republican, 1, 2, 101, 166, 167 59, 89, 158, 235, 242, 257, 264, Reserve, 16, 22, 48, 81, 116, 129n10, 270, 272, 275 174, 225, 249, 273 286 INDEX

Resolutions, 3, 9, 14–18, 20, 22, 23, Sovereigntist, 6, 38, 86, 93, 156–158, 25–29, 31, 38, 40, 41, 45, 165–189, 190n16, 204, 207, 47–49, 62, 68, 71–75, 77, 79, 209, 214–217, 240, 245, 246, 94n12, 118, 127, 174, 197, 202, 265–267, 275 205–209, 213, 215, 224–230, Specialist, 67, 71, 91–93, 106, 123, 234–236, 242, 244, 248, 254, 170, 173, 195, 197–199, 258n11, 273 223–257, 259n29, 265, 266, Role, 4, 5, 10, 11, 15, 60, 69, 101, 272 133, 134, 165–189, 193, 194, Speech, 3, 19, 36, 38, 39, 44, 61, 86, 223–257, 264 123, 155, 168, 171, 175, 178, 183, 204–208, 216, 217, 232, 234, 254 S Standing committee, 12, 15, 18, Scrutiny, 5, 9, 16, 19, 21–23, 29, 33, 20, 24, 25, 31, 34, 42, 46, 41, 48, 49, 61, 71, 74, 75, 81, 49–51, 53n13, 71, 72, 75, 174, 251, 254, 256, 266, 275 195, 241, 243, 248, 250, Senate/senator, 4, 5, 7n4, 11, 14, 263, 272 15, 17–19, 24, 25, 27, 29, 32, Status seeker/status-seeker, 93, 243, 33, 43, 44, 47, 49, 50, 67, 82, 252, 254, 255, 266 87, 88, 92, 101–104, 107, 111, Subsidiarity, 19, 31, 32, 38, 73, 134, 112, 114–116, 118, 123–125, 155–163, 175, 236 127, 128, 133, 137–140, 142, 149, 154, 158–163, 165–167, 174, 175, 177, 193, 200–202, T 213, 217, 223–226, 234, 238, Transposition, 4–6, 11, 22, 36, 59, 72, 241, 253, 255, 266, 268, 273 79, 138, 145, 157, 172, 197, Socialist, 2, 7n7, 34, 37, 40, 50, 52, 237–242, 258n16 73, 75–77, 103, 107, 110, 123, 125, 137–141, 144, 146, 147, 149, 150, 157, 159, 168, 177, W 187, 189n6, 196–198, 200, 204, Welfare Officer/welfare officer, 92, 93, 205, 209–213, 219, 226, 229, 125, 161, 264 232–234, 238, 239, 247 Written question, 23, 37