About the time Americans saw the video of President Clinton's testimony regarding Monica Lewinsky, the French public discovered a very different sort of videotape divulging President Jacques Chirac's secret passion.
A little nooky at the Elysee would not have raised an eyebrow here. But the revelation of the lengths to which Mr Chirac goes to pro mote French exports abroad - broadcast by the M6 channel on its economic programme Capital - produced widespread stupefaction.
Mr Chirac's delight in vaunting the merits of French products and foisting French businessmen on foreign officials is all the more surprising because it is so un-French. Traditionally, the French aristocracy did not need to talk about money, and their disinterest became an affectation among the bourgeoisie, where discussing price is the ultimate rudeness. The French education system was geared to training teachers and civil servants - not entrepreneurs. French industry may produce beautifully designed, high-tech, high-quality products, but its representatives have often shied from the ruthless scrum of international competition.
Mr Chirac has a reputation for thriving in adversity, and he seems to savour the challenge of selling in the same way he fights back after political defeats. He is one of France's most travelled presidents, having made some 50 state visits in 3 1/2 years. "When I travel abroad," he has said, "I don't go along for the ride. I have no complexes about it - I go to sell France, to sell French products." On each trip, he is accompanied by dozens of French businessmen.
In his book The World According to Chirac, the newspaper editor Hubert Coudurier calls trade Mr Chirac's "new frontier". He cites an Elysee document crediting the president with carrying the day in 10 per cent of the Ffr 200 billion (£23.8 billion) in export contracts signed since he came to office. The finance ministry estimates Mr Chirac's effectiveness to be somewhat less, but for whatever reason, French exports have boomed in the past decade. In 1990, the French trade deficit was Ffr 75 billion (£8.93 billion). Last year, France recorded a trade surplus of Ffr 170 billion (£20.2 billion).
The president has tried to impart his commercial fervour to a somewhat reluctant diplomatic corps. One in four Frenchmen work for exports, he reminded the ambassadors' conference in 1996. "Never forget that a billion francs in exports creates or consolidates 1,000 jobs for three years. Essential for employment, this daily battle for exports in which I personally participate is also your battle. I ask you. . . to be efficient advocates of our businesses with local authorities."
The M6 channel was given behind the scenes access during Mr Chirac's tour of four southern African countries last summer, and the documentary they produced shows how the Chirac sales system functions.
A few days before departure, the 50 CEOs who are to travel on the president's Airbus come to the Elysee for a preparatory meeting. Southern Africa is considered a preserve of les anglo-saxons and Mr Chirac tells the businessmen they must make inroads.
During the two-hour session, would-be exporters raise their cases with the president. The fiduciary printing company Oberthur wants the contract for Angolan banknotes. ElfAcquitaine would like more offshore oil exploration, also in Angola, and a third company is after the drinkable water network in Luanda. Their requests are duly noted by Mr Chirac's economic adviser.
The first 10-hour stop in the former German and South African colony Namibia is just to sniff the business environment. There are already 12,000 Germans working here - compared to 100 Frenchmen - so Paris will have an uphill battle for those dams, water treatment plants and telecommunications contracts. At a cocktail party, Alain-Dominique Perrin, the CEO of Cartier, tells the president of Namibia, "I'm in charge of the jewellers. I've come to buy your diamonds."
With nearly one third of the wealth of the continent, South Africa most interests the businessmen. At a dinner party thrown by the French finance minister, the CEO of the smallest company on the trip lands a Ffr 20 million contract to clean 40,000 wine casks for South Africa's biggest vineyard, doubling his annual turn-over. "It was a unique opportunity to surf on the presidential wave," the euphoric businessman tells the M6 crew.
Serge Dassault, the flamboyant CEO of the military and civil aircraft company, sits next to the head of the South African state arms company. Mr Dassault doesn't mince his words. He wants a contract for 38 fighter planes worth Ffr 15 billion.
Later, in a meeting between Mr Chirac and the businessmen, the president listens attentively as Mr Dassault asks him to transmit a message to President Nelson Mandela. "I'd like you to tell him that it would be a very unfriendly gesture towards France to chose a Swedish aircraft that is supported by the English. . ."
Mr Chirac speaks to Mr Mandela privately about the Dassault contract, but he is equally attentive to the needs of Gerard Breus, the CEO of a small hydraulic pump company who wants to sell Ffr 90 million worth of pumps to Mozambique. In the most surreal scene of the documentary, we see the French president take Mr Breus by the arm at a state dinner in Maputo, herd him over to the president of Mozambique and ask - in English - for an introduction to the vice minister for agriculture and fisheries. The French president and his protege wait like rapacious birds for the female official's arrival. "I am very interested in hydraulics!" Mr Chirac enthuses. "It is very important for the development of villages. . . Let me introduce you. . ." The French president claims (falsely) that the president of Mozambique has asked her to take an interest in Mr Breus's pumps.
Mr Chirac is in top salesman form again at the final cocktail party in Luanda, where he inundates President Dos Santos with sales pitches. Of Martin Bouygues, the CEO of France's largest construction company, Mr Chirac says: "You knew his daddy well. Martin has succeeded his father as president of the company. . ." Bouygues' French competitor for an oil platform contract is hovering nearby, so Mr Chirac introduces him too. "I'm not a technician," he says, "but apparently they're the best for platforms".
Every French company is "the best in the world" as far as Mr Chirac is concerned. The CEO of Oberthur - who wants the banknote contract - comes forward. "Frankly, it's the best printing company in the world for banknotes," Mr Chirac tells Mr Dos Santos. "An extraordinary company. . . in all the countries where they make banknotes it works very well."
French businessmen say such high-level harassment is effective in countries with centrally planned economies, and in some sectors such as oil and weapons. But 62 per cent of French exports are within the EU, followed by 7 per cent to the US. In free market economies, Mr Chirac's hard sell would be all but irrelevant. He has concentrated on emerging markets in Asia, eastern Europe, Africa and South America. These represent a relatively small proportion of French trade, and are now undermined by financial crisis. But that may not deter Mr Chirac. He seems to do it for a very French reason - pleasure.
