Emmanuel Macron is France's youngest leader since Napoleon

May 8, 2017

Paris, May 8: Three years ago, hardly anyone knew his name.

But in a once-unimaginable scenario, Emmanuel Macron - at 39, the boy wonder of an aging political establishment - won the French presidency Sunday with a tidal wave of popular support. He will soon be France's youngest head of state since Napoleon Bonaparte as well as its first modern president not to belong to either of the center-left or center-right parties that have run this country for 60 years.

emmanuel

After the success of the Brexit campaign in Britain and the upset victory of Donald Trump in the U.S. presidential election, Macron's win has been billed as having curbed the global tide of anti-establishment populism. In the vote's second and final round, he defeated Marine Le Pen, the leader of the far-right National Front, a strongly anti-immigrant party tainted by the perception that it is tolerant of anti-Semitism and Nazi nostalgia.

"I will fight with all my strength against the division that is undermining and defeating us," Macron said, just after the results were announced. "For the next five years, I will serve on your behalf with humility, devotion and determination."

Macron's story is one of a highly improbable ascent in a system that typically rewards entrenched political dynasties.

"It's entirely unprecedented in the Fifth Republic," said Francois Heisbourg, a well-known French defense expert who has advised Macron on security and terrorism issues. "It's extraordinarily unusual, the way he has broken through the system - coming from nowhere."

Macron, who has never held elected office, has now been elected to one of the most powerful executive offices in the Western world, holding the top job of the second-largest economy in a troubled Europe. How he did it, analysts say, rests on a combination of luck and a campaign message attuned to a new political moment.

In France, 2017 proved an ideal year to run as an independent candidate. A rare political vacuum emerged, and Macron - a former Socialist economy minister who stepped down from his post in July - was able to take full advantage of it.

With the public frightened by a slew of terrorist attacks by Islamist extremists, and with employment at double digits, France's Socialist Party, under incumbent President Francois Hollande, sank to historic levels of unpopularity. Largely for the sake of the party, Hollande promised in December not to seek re-election, but his Socialist stand-in, Benoit Hamon, was eliminated in the election's first round, winning just a meager 6.35 percent of the vote.

France's mainstream conservative party, Les Republicains (the Republicans), were undermined by a spending scandal involving Francois Fillon, its contender. Once the undisputed favorite, Fillon suffered a fatal blow after Le Canard Enchaine, a French satirical newspaper, accused him of funneling about 900,000 euros ($990,000) of public funds to his wife and children for work they never did.

Macron perceived that the "new divide" among French voters was not the historic cleavage between left and right but rather one between an open and closed society, Heisbourg said. This was the line Le Pen and the National Front had embraced for years, but few in the established parties ever responded directly.

Defending an open, multicultural society was a central component of En Marche (Onward), the movement Macron launched in 2016. "Globalization can be a great opportunity," he said at one point on the campaign trail. "There is no such thing as French culture," he said at another. "There is culture in France, and it is diverse."

The great French novels are often stories of ambitious young men from the provinces who come to Paris to seek their fortunes. For many, Macron is no exception. The literary son of doctors from provincial Amiens, he graduated from France's elite Ecole Normale d'Administration, the traditional breeding ground of presidents.

Some in the French press have placed the first sign of Macron's formidable ambitions in, of all places, his love life - namely, in his dogged pursuit of his wife, Brigitte, his former high school teacher and a woman 24 years his senior. As Brigitte Macron told a French documentary maker last year: "Bit by bit, he defeated all my resistance, in an amazing way, with patience." The candidate showed the same persistence in capturing the Elysee Palace.

"I have known failures, sometimes bitter, but I have never allowed myself to turn away," Macron wrote in his 2016 book, "Revolution."

That doggedness - along with a calculating eye for useful associations, critics say - brought him into contact with many prominent French thinkers and government officials, who then helped him advance.

In the late 1990s, while still a graduate student, Macron worked as an assistant to Paul Ricoeur, a prominent French intellectual and writer; by the mid-2000s, he was working for the Finance Ministry, on a commission dedicated to stimulating economic growth. It was there that he met Jacques Attali, a prominent economist and Parisian power broker who many say later ushered Macron along a speedy path to the highest echelons of the Hollande administration.

In an interview, Attali, who has also served as an adviser to the Macron campaign, rejected out of hand the idea that the candidate was mainly a gifted networker. "He would be where he is today with or without my help," Attali said.

If Macron's ambition has led him to considerable success, it has also earned him enemies - including, some say, Hollande, whom he served as economy minister but then abandoned to launch his party. "Emmanuel Macron betrayed me methodically," Hollande said last year, according to Le Monde newspaper.

Jean Pisani-Ferry, another Macron adviser and the author of much of the candidate's platform, brushed off the comment.

"He launched another politics, created a new movement. Political life wouldn't exist otherwise," Pisani-Ferry said in an interview.

Despite the improbable nature of Macron's victory, France's new president will face a considerable challenge as he attempts to form a government. Given that he has no party structure behind him, he will be deeply affected by the results of parliamentary elections, slated for June.

"There is huge uncertainty regarding the parliamentary elections to come, because France's main political forces were largely absent in the second round - the traditional right wing, the Socialists and the far left," said Patrick Weil, a leading French legal scholar and historian. "Now they are frustrated, and they are ready to take their revenge in the legislative elections."

In the past, when the National Front made it to the final round of the presidential election, the rest of the political spectrum united in opposition to the extreme right. But this year, certain politicians hesitated to back Macron in the final round, notably the far-leftist Jean-Luc Melenchon. Many voters also opted to abstain or to cast blank ballots.

"You might have higher mobilization for the parliamentary elections than usual, which, given turnout in the presidential election, could mean a higher legitimacy for the parliament than for the presidency," Weil said.

Comments

Add new comment

  • Coastaldigest.com reserves the right to delete or block any comments.
  • Coastaldigset.com is not responsible for its readers’ comments.
  • Comments that are abusive, incendiary or irrelevant are strictly prohibited.
  • Please use a genuine email ID and provide your name to avoid reject.
News Network
April 11,2024

vietnamfraud.jpg

Real estate tycoon Truong My Lan was sentenced Thursday to death by a court in Ho Chi Minh city in southern Vietnam in the country's largest financial fraud case ever, state media Thanh Nien said.

It's a rare verdict - she is one of very few women in Vietnam to be sentenced to death for a white collar crime, i.e. looting one of the country's largest banks over a period of 11 years.

The decision is a reflection of the dizzying scale of the fraud. Truong My Lan was convicted of taking out $44bn (£35bn) in loans from the Saigon Commercial Bank. The verdict requires her to return $27bn, a sum prosecutors said may never be recovered. Some believe the death penalty is the court's way of trying to encourage her to return some of the missing billions.

The habitually secretive communist authorities were uncharacteristically forthright about this case, going into minute detail for the media. They said 2,700 people were summoned to testify, while 10 state prosecutors and around 200 lawyers were involved.

The evidence was in 104 boxes weighing a total of six tonnes. Eighty-five defendants were tried with Truong My Lan, who denied the charges.

"There has never been a show trial like this, I think, in the communist era," says David Brown, a retired US state department official with long experience in Vietnam. "There has certainly been nothing on this scale."

The trial was the most dramatic chapter so far in the "Blazing Furnaces" anti-corruption campaign led by the Communist Party Secretary-General, Nguyen Phu Trong.

A conservative ideologue steeped in Marxist theory, Nguyen Phu Trong believes that popular anger over untamed corruption poses an existential threat to the Communist Party's monopoly on power. He began the campaign in earnest in 2016 after out-manoeuvring the then pro-business prime minister to retain the top job in the party.

 The campaign has seen two presidents and two deputy prime ministers forced to resign, and hundreds of officials disciplined or jailed. Now one of the country's richest women has joined their ranks.

Truong My Lan comes from a Sino-Vietnamese family in Ho Chi Minh City, formerly Saigon. It has long been the commercial engine of the Vietnamese economy, dating well back to its days as the anti-communist capital of South Vietnam, with a large, ethnic Chinese community.

She started as a market stall vendor, selling cosmetics with her mother, but began buying land and property after the Communist Party ushered in a period of economic reform, known as Doi Moi, in 1986. By the 1990s, she owned a large portfolio of hotels and restaurants.

Although Vietnam is best known outside the country for its fast-growing manufacturing sector, as an alternative supply chain to China, most wealthy Vietnamese made their money developing and speculating in property.

All land is officially state-owned. Getting access to it often relies on personal relationships with state officials. Corruption escalated as the economy grew, and became endemic.

By 2011, Truong My Lan was a well-known business figure in Ho Chi Minh City, and she was allowed to arrange the merger of three smaller, cash-strapped banks into a larger entity: Saigon Commercial Bank.

Vietnamese law prohibits any individual from holding more than 5% of the shares in any bank. But prosecutors say that through hundreds of shell companies and people acting as her proxies, Truong My Lan actually owned more than 90% of Saigon Commercial.

They accused her of using that power to appoint her own people as managers, and then ordering them to approve hundreds of loans to the network of shell companies she controlled.

The amounts taken out are staggering. Her loans made up 93% of all the bank's lending.

According to prosecutors, over a period of three years from February 2019, she ordered her driver to withdraw 108 trillion Vietnamese dong, more than $4bn (£2.3bn) in cash from the bank, and store it in her basement.

That much cash, even if all of it was in Vietnam's largest denomination banknotes, would weigh two tonnes.

She was also accused of bribing generously to ensure her loans were never scrutinised. One of those who was tried used to be a chief inspector at the central bank, who was accused of accepting a $5m bribe.

The mass of officially sanctioned publicity about the case channelled public anger over corruption against Truong My Lan, whose fatigued, unmade-up appearance in court was in stark contrast to the glamorous publicity photos people had seen of her in the past.

But questions are also being asked about why she was able to keep on with the alleged fraud for so long.

"I am puzzled," says Le Hong Hiep who runs the Vietnam Studies Programme at the ISEAS - Yusof Ishak Institute in Singapore.

"Because it wasn't a secret. It was well known in the market that Truong My Lan and her Van Thinh Phat group were using SCB as their own piggy bank to fund the mass acquisition of real estate in the most prime locations.

"It was obvious that she had to get the money from somewhere. But then it is such a common practice. SCB is not the only bank that is used like this. So perhaps the government lost sight because there are so many similar cases in the market."

David Brown believes she was protected by powerful figures who have dominated business and politics in Ho Chi Minh City for decades. And he sees a bigger factor in play in the way this trial is being run: a bid to reassert the authority of the Communist Party over the free-wheeling business culture of the south.

"What Nguyen Phu Trong and his allies in the party are trying to do is to regain control of Saigon, or at least stop it from slipping away.

"Up until 2016 the party in Hanoi pretty much let this Sino-Vietnamese mafia run the place. They would make all the right noises that local communist leaders are supposed to make, but at the same time they were milking the city for a substantial cut of the money that was being made down there."

At 79 years old, party chief Nguyen Phu Trong is in shaky health, and will almost certainly have to retire at the next Communist Party Congress in 2026, when new leaders will be chosen.

He has been one of the longest-serving and most consequential secretary-generals, restoring the authority of the party's conservative wing to a level not seen since the reforms of the 1980s. He clearly does not want to risk permitting enough openness to undermine the party's hold on political power.

But he is trapped in a contradiction. Under his leadership the party has set an ambitious goal of reaching rich country status by 2045, with a technology and knowledge-based economy. This is what is driving the ever-closer partnership with the United States.

Yet faster growth in Vietnam almost inevitably means more corruption. Fight corruption too much, and you risk extinguishing a lot of economic activity. Already there are complaints that bureaucracy has slowed down, as officials shy away from decisions which might implicate them in a corruption case.

"That's the paradox," says Le Hong Hiep. "Their growth model has been reliant on corrupt practices for so long. Corruption has been the grease that that kept the machinery working. If they stop the grease, things may not work any more."

Comments

Add new comment

  • Coastaldigest.com reserves the right to delete or block any comments.
  • Coastaldigset.com is not responsible for its readers’ comments.
  • Comments that are abusive, incendiary or irrelevant are strictly prohibited.
  • Please use a genuine email ID and provide your name to avoid reject.