Paul from Paris

Europe, as a political project, was born of circumstances specific to the postwar years: a necessary economic reconstruction and an emerging cold war. Period documents never cease to impress me by their sense of urgency.

A few years ago, some smart people, seasoned in politics, wrote a constitution for the European Union. It was not perfect –constitutions rarely are– but it had some ambition and looked towards meeting future challenges.

After being shot down by voters in France and the Netherlands, the constitution was shelved. EU member states instead decided on a “lite constitution” that made some needed corrections to bureaucratic machinery but otherwise promised continuity.

This document, the Lisbon Treaty, has finally been adopted, after a course nearly as rocky as the draft constitution’s. It will enter into force on December 1.

One of the reforms promised by the Lisbon Treaty was the addition of two permanent posts: a president for the European Council (which, together with the European Parliament, enacts European laws); and a foreign minister, renamed High Representative for foreign affairs and security policy.

Last week, the inaugural holders of these high offices were announced. As has been widely reported, they are: Herman Van Rompuy, first President of the European Council; and Catherine Ashton, first High Representative for foreign affairs and security policy. Both are pictured in this photo, from the Council of the European Union, with Frederik Reinfeldt, prime minister of Sweden, the country that now holds the Council’s rotating presidency.

At the time of their appointments, Van Rompuy was prime minister of Belgium, and Ashton was EU trade commissioner. Both are experienced in politics and European Union policies. Their competence is not in doubt.

But both seem natural second choices. They are consensus-seekers, not leaders or statesmen. In the words of Valerie Giscard d’Estaing, former French president and chair of the committee that produced the draft constitution, “The Europeans have not picked a George Washington.” Giscard d’Estaing may be sore that he did not assume this office, but his analysis is on-point.

The meekness of the inaugural appointments disappoints me, for two reasons.

First, Van Rompuy and Ashton are hardly known in their own countries; neither is a European figure, much less a global one. If their offices were created to increase Europe’s visibility on the world stage, why pick figures who seem slight and inconsequential, or at least will be challenged from day one to become better known, including inside Europe?

Second, the selection process seemed oddly biased by past events decided outside Europe. Granting that the appointments were decided behind closed doors and that news reports of private conversations can be flawed, the selection process seems to have excluded those who’d voiced support (or at least not opposition) of US President George W. Bush’s action in Iraq. I cannot fathom the reason for this particular litmus test, in Europe, in 2009.

I join the assessment of former French prime minister Michel Rocard, who has gone on to a successful second career in European politics, when he commented: “This is a bad decision. I deeply regret it.”

As an American who lives in France, I often hear disparaging remarks about life in the United States. Violence there is supposedly endemic; and American teens are particularly alienated because society offers them only consumer culture.

I’ve grown used to these remarks. There’s more than a little truth to them. But what intrigues me is this: Americans seem to gaze at violence in fascinated horror, whereas French people seem to avert their eyes, not wanting to see what’s in front of them.

A French middle school student, age 13, was indicted today for attempted murder.

On Tuesday, the youngster walked a few kilometers from his home, in Allone, to his school, the Institution du Saint-Esprit, a parochial school in Beauvais, about an hour north of Paris.

View Larger Map

He carried a hunting rifle –his dad’s– and 25 cartridges, and he wanted to stop a parent-teacher meeting from taking place. This strategy reportedly involved the murder of several teachers. In any event, when the boy reached his school, he noticed a police presence, then was apprehended.

If convicted, the youngster –whose name cannot be released to the public but who can be sentenced as an adult– could serve up to 20 years in prison.

The French media have reported the incident. They have branded as probable causes:

• Computers. The boy had a blog. (A blog!) He wrote: “This is the last day of my life” on Tuesday, which reportedly made the authorities suspect and take seriously a possibility of violence.
• Video games. The boy loved them and played them often.
• Rap music. The boy reportedly was partial to rap.

The media also take pains to point out that the boy –and his family– were quiet and law-abiding, “not known to the police”. The boy was actually a good student.

One of my students, Marie-Paola, is competing for a promotional job, as buyer for a web site.

The competition requires students to put together a video presentation and to post it on the web. Competitors win votes when people visit YouTube and award the video five stars.

Marie-Paola’s video is here and below. She also set up a Facebook page for the competition and was mentioned in an article in Le Monde.

Marie-Paola is bright and dynamic, and she takes initiative. She’s competing against some serious contenders and is worthy of support.

On this day, ten years ago, the first couple entered into a PACS, in the northern French city of Lille.

What’s the PACS? The pacte civil de solidarité or civil solidarity pact is a contract done to organize a household. It’s like a marriage, except that it’s not a marriage. It can be entered into by two people, no matter whether they’re of the opposite sex or the same sex; they can even be related.

Why do people enter into a PACS? Favorable tax and inheritance treatment is a big reason; the French tax code doesn’t look kindly on single people without dependents. Access to a partner’s benefits is another motivation. The benefits need not be financial; for example, when a civil servant gains a right to relocate to be near a partner who has been transferred by her employer.

Has the PACS been popular? Yes, remarkably so. In its early years, about 20,000 couples entered into a PACS each year. In 2007, the figure topped 100,000. And in 2008, it reached 150,000. (By comparison, 267,000 marriages were celebrated in France in 2008.) As I’ve suggested, the PACS increasingly works like a secular form of engagement, although it does not necessarily lead to a marriage.

Is the PACS like a civil marriage? Yes, increasingly so. Most couples entering into a PACS are about 30 years old, and they prefer to conclude a PACS in the summertime. After six years, 18.9% of couples in a PACS have separated, compared to 18.2% of married couples. Finally, a couple entering into a PACS is almost always –94% of the time– made up of a man and a woman.

This turns out to be the biggest surprise of the PACS. When created, the PACS was pitched to gay and lesbian couples, and designed as gay-marriage-that-wasn’t-a-marriage-in-name. It was a compromise measure.

Of course, some couples are uncompromising. The couple from Lille who made the very first PACS, Francis and Dominique, wanted to get married. This is not possible for a gay couple in France today, so Francis and Dominique moved 20 kilometers from Lille, to the town of Mouscron, in Belgium, which permits gay marriage. On 24 February 2006, Francis and Dominique got married.

The Seventh Arrondissement of Paris, normally swank and sedate, witnessed a riot this weekend.

Rioting just in front of the Peace Wall, in the shadow of the Eiffel Tower, is surprising; but more surprising still is the cause of the unrest: a scheme to give away money, aborted at the last minute.

The scheme –to pass out 5,000 envelopes stuffed with between 5 and 500 euros in cash– was initiated by Rentabiliweb, ostensibly to promote its mailorama.fr site.

The instigator of the money giveaway is none other than Stéphane Bakris, a young man who made a name for himself by simu-launching a site that claimed to do schoolchildren’s homework, for a fee. I voiced my doubts about that effort, just as I question what this scheme really was about.

The organizers certainly drew attention to themselves, promising a “live show” with an effort that would be “more effective than an ad campaign.”

On the appointed day, a large crowd gathered, eager to pick up free money. Then the organizers backed out. (I couldn’t find out whether they even showed up.) Rioting ensued in the neighborhood: cars were overturned, projectiles were thrown, people were roughed up. The organizers now claim an intent to donate to the Secours Populaire, a respected and worthy organization that helps the resource-challenged.

What, precisely, was this scheme all about? What did its organizers hope to accomplish? I’m puzzled. Urban unrest can’t possibly have been the objective. If I follow its site, mailorama.fr offers a chance to make money by reading e-mails and by earning rebates from online merchants. Wouldn’t word-of-mouth or online buzz suffice to draw users to this site? As for Rentabiliweb, I confess not to understand precisely how it earns money. This, for me, if the most paradoxical aspect of the aborted scheme: what use is buzz if there’s no target or objective?