France

Back in December, Emmanuel Macron was a man on edge. His poll numbers were spiralling down the toilet; hundreds of thousands of French who felt alienated from their government were taking to the streets to shout down the French elite in cities and towns across the country; and fires were burning all around Paris. Police officers and protesters-turned-rioters were on the frontlines trading rocks and rubber bullets, resulting in hundreds (if not thousands) of arrests. Macron, the blue-eyed, fresh-faced technocratic politician who marketed himself during the 2017 presidential contest as the Fifth French Republic’s aspiring saviour, was left twiddling his thumbs in the presidential mansion wondering how to address the turmoil around him.

Who needs the Comédie-Française when there is Emmanuel Macron in the Élysée? France's recall last week of its ambassador from Italy for consultation was pure theatre on the part of the president. And it was a decision more for the benefit of his domestic audience than for the coalition government in Rome. In a statement explaining why Christian Masset had been ordered home, the foreign office said that for several months France has been subjected to outrageous statements that have created a 'serious situation which is raising questions about the Italian government’s intentions towards France.' France blamed the recall on Luigi Di Maio, the Italian deputy prime minster, who flew to Paris last week to meet members of the Yellow Vest protest movement.

Patrick Jardin lost his daughter when Islamist terrorists attacked the Bataclan in November 2015. Nathalie was one of 130 people killed that evening in Paris and her father still pays her mobile phone charges so that he can hear her voice on her answer message. For Jardin, time has healed nothing. He spearheaded a successful campaign to prevent the controversial rapper Medine from appearing at the Bataclan last year. And in the interviews he gives, such as this one to Liberation, he directs his anger in many directions. Some of it against himself, for failing to "protect" his daughter, some against the killers, but most is channelled into a visceral loathing for the political class, which he accuses of being the real assassins.

Emmanuel Macron spoke for three hours, almost without pause, at the first of his grand débats national in Normandy last week, in an attempt to respond to recent protests, while 8,000 policemen kept the gilets jaunes at bay. Yesterday, in the splendour of the Palace of Versailles, Macron hosted scores of international business leaders, many on their way to Davos, to reassure them that France was open for business. They were polite but it is fair to say sceptical, having seen on television the Porsches of bankers burning on the streets of Paris. Today the peripatetic president is with Angela Merkel in the German city of Aachen, known still to the French as Aix-la-Chapelle, Charlemagne’s capital.

The ninth weekend of the gilet jaune protest movement was a mixed result for Emmanuel Macron. The nationwide demonstrations were relatively peaceful with only minor skirmishes between protestors and police, but numbers were up, with a total of 84,000 taking to the streets, 34,000 more than the previous Saturday. This is an impressive figure given that we are in the depth of the northern hemisphere winter, but what are rain, sleet and sub-zero temperatures when the future of one's country is at stake? With that in mind Macron launches his Big Debate on Tuesday in the hope that consultation will supplant confrontation and a consensus can be reached behind which the country can unite and move forward. The odds of that happening appear to be slim.

Twelve months ago Le Journal du Dimanche published an opinion poll in which Emmanuel Macron had an approval rating of 52 per cent. A fortnight ago the same paper ran a poll in which the president's popularity stood at 23 per cent. Where has it gone so wrong for the man once likened among sections of the French press to a cross between Jupiter and Christ? More to the point how could The Spectator get it so wrong in running a piece last December entitled 'Macron is becoming the darling of the Deplorables'? I can only assume that when I wrote that article, in particular the line about Macron having 'a wise head on those young political shoulders', I had come from a long Christmas lunch. In my defence I would like to point out that I did temper my praise with some cautious prognosis.

Emmanuel Macron spoke to the French people for thirteen minutes on Monday evening. It was an uncharacteristically sombre address from the president, one in which he admitted he had to take his 'share of responsibility' for the anger that provoked the yellow vest movement. As well as conceding he 'might have hurt people with my words', Macron also announced a series of measures that he hopes will defuse the discontent of his people and bring an end to the violent chaos across the country that has cost retailers alone upwards of €1b since it began on November 17. An additional €100 a month will be added to the minimum wage and pensioners receiving less than €2,000-a-month will be exempt from social security taxes scheduled to take effect next year.

Paris is not burning. Or, only a little bit is burning this evening. President Emmanuel Macron flooded the zone with twice as many police as last week. Then, there was the dawn roundup of hundreds of known troublemakers. Kettling the gilets jaunes in the Champs Elysée was a good way of preventing them from getting up to mischief on the side streets. And there were armoured personnel carriers parked at the Arc de Triomphe, should anyone doubt the government’s determination. Macron may claim to have won this round but, like Pyrrhus, one other such victory would utterly undo him. Whatever he says when he breaks his silence tomorrow, the optics remain terrible. Shops have been looted. Cars are still burning. The television images have been terrible.