France has method to deal with corruption
POSTVIEW
March 2, 2005
The housing scandal that may doom the long-term career of Prime Minister Stanislav Gross his bizarrely accounted-for funding for a luxury home in Prague's Barrandov neighborhood might just be best resolved with a little inspiration from an unlikely source: the age-old Czech love affair with all things French.
No slouches at scandals themselves, the French have also had leading roles in everything from fashion and cuisine to engineering and business models in Bohemia.
Ever since Charles IV brought the vintnering arts to the Czech lands from the French courts in the 14th century, progressive Praguers have looked to Gallic minds for ideas. These days the truly fashionable top models from Most shop at the French Promod shop on Wenceslas Square, while worldly executives breeze into the French-remodeled Ruzyne Airport every day, no doubt noting its clean, airy lines in forming their first impression of modern, business-savvy Prague. (Of course they do not expect it to collapse, as the terminal of Paris' Charles de Gaulle Airport did last May.)
So why not consider a tip from one of the world's oldest hands at dealing with scandals?
French Finance Minister Herve Gaymard lasted just 12 weeks in that job after cries for his ouster finally forced him to resign Feb. 25. His public-image troubles began when reporters discovered he was living in an $18,470-a-month (418,715 Kc) apartment paid for by the state. Aside from the fashionably high rent, it appeared the state was also funding $3,300 a month for maintenance and three parking spaces, $42,000 to renovate the apartment and the parking area, and $16,000 in real estate fees.
Gross' issues are admittedly a bit different. He's under the microscope for buying an apartment in 1999 that no humble MP's salary could cover, in addition to a few suspicious real estate deals of his wife. In comparison, Gaymard lied to the press when he said he had no other housing and had to live in the super-expensive flat paid for by the French government at a time of fiscal belt-tightening, when it turns out he in fact already owned an apartment in Paris. After realizing this wasn't something he could brush under the carpet, Gaymard came out with a chagrined admission to "a blunder."
Unlike Gross, Gaymard chose to spare his party and the government further embarrassment by falling on his sword.
Many Czechs grumble, with some justification, that no one in government ever steps down after he or she is exposed as corrupt or inept. Instead, the strategy in Prague seems to be hunker down, blame your lying, jealous enemies, as well as the media, and wait for it all to blow over.
A more demanding public, as France clearly has, can expect more, refusing to accept contrite gestures as sufficient penalties for betraying the public trust. Rival politicians, in this case, Miroslav Kalousek, head of the Christian Democrats, while eager to make hay, don't seem entirely committed to winning Gross' resignation if it means the price would be the breakdown of a coalition that serves the Christian Dems well.
But Gaymard and Gross have one important thing in common: Both have found themselves of late in a sudden need of the expression "Mayday!"
That term, which itself is a corruption of the French m'aider, a shortened version of venez m'aider, meaning "help me!" seems only too apropos.
Gaymard's resignation reveals something about different standards of conduct by public officials tolerated in older vs. newer EU member countries.
If the Gross scandal is easily forgotten, laissez-faire will sadly triumph over "off with his head."
Reader's Comments:
[04/03/2005] : I would like to add that in France the people really high up in office have an immunity,so they can ply their petty scandals without interferences by the "plebes."Mr.Mitterand is one example.
Jiri Hubacek
Jiri Hubacek Victoria,BC,Canada |
|