Tomorrow many French voters will be saying non to what they see as creeping liberalism, writes Lara Marlowe in Paris.
José Bové, the mustachioed sheep farmer and anti-globalisation activist who went to jail for destroying a McDonald's restaurant, drew loud applause at a rally against the European constitutional treaty on the Place de la République. "Very near here," Bové shouted, "Our ancestors tore down the prison of the Bastille. We are going to tear down the prison of liberalism."
Unless opinion polls showing a 10-point lead for the No vote have it completely wrong, the French left will literally re-take the Place de la Bastille tomorrow night, when first results from the referendum on the EU constitution are announced at 10pm. Their celebration will be the culmination of a re-enactment of the struggle between nobles and sansculottes. The Monarch - President Jacques Chirac - will stay in his palace for two more years, discredited, weakened and demoralised.
The revolutionaries may soon find they've won a hollow victory. The new government that Chirac is expected to appoint next week is unlikely to pursue policies substantially different from the one brought down by the referendum. The Europe of tomorrow will be just as right-wing and free-marketeering. And France stands little chance of re-negotiating a more "social" constitution.
References to the French Revolution have been a leitmotif of the tumultuous campaign. As the anti-treaty socialist deputy Henri Émmanuelli acknowledged this week, "The content of the text [ of the treaty] is no longer important. Anyway, people are tired of hearing what various articles say."
Francois Mitterrand's widow, Danielle, said, "You have to know how to say No." Saying No is considered a noble tradition in France. Gen Charles de Gaulle is remembered as "the man who said No" to Nazi occupation. A group of intellectuals who signed a petition against the treaty this week cited the 1848 revolution, the Paris Commune, May 1968 and the socialist victory of 1981 as other examples of France leading the way by saying No.
In most of his speeches, Chirac claimed the constitution was "the daughter of 1789". Not so, says Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the fiery socialist senator who first defied the socialist party's leadership by campaigning against the treaty. "It's the daughter of those who lost the Revolution," Mélenchon says, adding that 1789 "was a beautiful page in the history of the left and of France".
Daniel Cohn-Bendit, the Franco-German Green MEP who campaigned hard for a Yes vote, blames French schoolteachers who, he says, have indoctrinated children for the past century. "They have this way of being very Republican, of refusing to learn anything, of having a completely closed set of French Revolutionary values . . ."
Opinion polls show the left comprises at least 52 per cent of treaty rejectionists. Ironically, the right-wing "sovereignists" who comprise the other 48 per cent of No voters think the French Revolution was a crime.
TO FATHOM PLANET France and the rejection of the treaty, one must understand that France has the last true leftists in Europe, and that much of the country loathes economic liberalism, defined as unbridled dog-eat-dog capitalism, with zero state intervention. "The liberal strait-jacket" was the cliche used most often by the communist leader Marie-George Buffet to decry the treaty.
"There is no socialist Yes; there is a liberal Yes," the former cabinet minister Jean-Pierre Chevènement corrected me when we met by chance in a bookshop near the National Assembly the other day. What did he mean by "liberal"? "It is a dirty word in French," Chevènement said. "It means 'savage'."
Even President Chirac, who is ostensibly on the right, has contributed to this mindset. At a European summit in March, Chirac stunned listeners by saying: "Liberalism is a harmful ideology. The rich grow richer, the poor grow poorer. It will crash into the wall like communism." I suspect Nicolas Sarkozy, the only prominent politician in France who is avowedly liberal, sank the treaty by telling the French that the constitution would force France to transform its "social model" into something resembling Britain's, with near full employment but low job security.
JEAN-LUC MÉLENCHON, the renegade socialist senator, was asked on Europe 1 radio this week what sort of condition France was in. "The country is suffering," Mélenchon said. "People are in a state of distress. [ Economic] precariousness has gained an incredible amount of ground in all social classes. It is unjust. Our country is more rich than ever before in its history. How is it that there are so many poor people? Why should we continue to abandon ourselves to the Dr Strangeloves who invented this demented text of a constitution that says we have to liberalise even more? More suffering! More privatisations!" To hear Mélenchon's description, you might think France was Darfour. I decided to attend his last campaign rally that night, in a gymnasium in the 20th district, near Père-Lachaise cemetery.
There were no dancing girls in gold lamé costumes or giant video screens with hi-tech special effects, as at Sarkozy's rallies. The inside of the 1950s gymnasium was decorated with red banners saying "For me it's No. Another Europe is possible."
In the 500-strong audience, Pierre Van Mael (33), a film-maker, told me he'd never attended a political meeting before, but felt it was urgent "to express how fed up I am with liberal Europe". What had "liberal Europe" done to him? I asked.
"Liberal Europe exploits human beings and the planet," he said. "Foreigners think the French are voting against our government, but I think there's a real social breakthrough against people with money." Did the referendum debate boil down to a question of rich against poor? "I believe so, and I fear so," Van Mael replied. "This constitution wants to build Europe on a liberal basis. It talks about competition and performance." But were competition and performance bad? "For a few people to be able to spend huge amounts of money in a day, other people are forced to work themselves to death," Van Mael said. "I can't accept that."
SPEAKERS FROM THE socialist, communist and green parties and the anti-globalisation group, Attac, took turns making speeches, addressing each other as "comrade". There was a trap at the outset of the referendum campaign, said Pierre Francois of the Communist Revolutionary League. "They styled it as a debate for or against Europe. We managed to turn it into a debate for or against liberalism. That's a victory."
Finally, Mélenchon came to the podium, a rumpled, teddy-bear-like figure with bushy grey hair. "Those who wanted to force you to kiss the hand that strikes us are panicking," Mélenchon said. "There's panic in the headquarters of those who went to good schools in expensive neighbourhoods." Using simple, colourful language in a working-class accent, the senator captivated the audience with his message of class struggle. "The important ones, the beautiful people, those who are satisfied with this sytem, are in the process of losing. This is an enormous social revenge."
Mélenchon ridiculed statements by treaty supporters: one deputy said there was a risk of war if the No won; another that it would rain for 40 days. Johnny Hallyday, the pop singer, said, "everyone is going to leave France". Denis MacShane, the former British minister for European affairs, allegedly called the No camp reactionaries and neo-conservatives. "We're a little touchy, especially around royalty," Mélenchon warned. "The English may not be, but we are."
Mélenchon brandished a well-worn copy of the constitutional treaty, its pages festooned with Post-it markers. He read an incomprehensible sample of legal jargon aloud. "It's a serious matter to tell a free people: 'Vote for that with your eyes shut'," he said, his voice rising. "Ignorance has always been a humiliation. That's why we have public schools. They did it on purpose - you're not supposed to understand it. Don't be ashamed. Raise your head. Drop the No ballot in the box when they talk to you like that! The people don't want to constitutionalise liberalism. Go to the devil! You won't make us swallow that."
When he was elected in 1995, Jacques Chirac promised to heal France's "social fracture". A decade later, France has 10.2 per cent unemployment, yet attempts to liberalise the labour market - the antidote prescribed by economists - are blocked by mass protests. Chirac's failure to square that circle has exploded in his face in the referendum campaign.
And what if, by some miracle, contrary to the lastest polls, the Yes vote won tomorrow night? Fear not, says Mélenchon. "We have the obstinate patience of the left through history. 1789 is not behind us; it's before us."