Paul from Paris

French prime minister François Fillon accepted lavish gifts, including use of a private jet and luxury hotel accomodations, from Mubarek while vacationing in Egypt between Christmas and the New Year, it has been reported.

Fillon saw no need to comment on the situation until the day before a national newspaper went to press with the story. Fillon’s office has limited remarks, and the prime minister left National Assembly question time early, and ducking the press at appearances yesterday.

As with a similar problem with French foreign affairs minister Alliot-Marie, Fillon’s office answered questions posed with indirection: Fillon was on a private trip, but he did have a meeting with Mubarek; Fillon will pay (or has already paid) for use of a French government jet that carried him to and from Egypt.

To the fundamental question of why the leader of the government would feel compelled or entitled to accept significant gifts from the Egyptian strongman, silence seems to be the only answer.

Some commentators have drawn a connection between the Sarkozy presidency and a political class with loose morals. For my part, I’m inclined to believe that the scandal could have arisen under a left-wing government.

The big story is the insouciance with which the French political class willingly accepts –and maybe actively seeks– personal gain from office, while in office. The gains tend to be soft, consumable, and offshore; but there seems to be a cognitive gap where others would perceive conflict of interest, profiting from public service, or the appearance of impropriety.

The little story is a proclivity, at least among monied Parisians, towards long-distance travel during the week between Christmas and the New Year. In a manner akin to the “5-to-7″, where married men feel unduly imposed upon if asked to account for their late-afternoon activities, there may exist a French social habit where a nice vacation abroad is taken as a matter of course, not the subject for probing questions.

This post is intended to reassure several readers who questioned whether Florence Woerth, the spouse of French labor minister Eric Woerth, had sacrificed her career in order to insulate her husband’s political career from potential scandal or harm.

Indeed, reported quid pro quo exchanges, where Woerth received a job and her boss received the Legion of Honor from her husband, led to Woerth’s resignation from Clymène. This company, where Woerth worked as a financial analyst, manages money for L’Oréal heiress Liliane Bettencourt and suffers heavy losses, year after year.

But Woerth’s departure from Clymène has not resulted in inactivity.

• On June 7, Woerth was elected to the board of Hermès, a French luxury brand that nurtures an equestrian heritage.
• Woerth is the founder and member of Dam’s, a stable whose shareholders are all women. Initially a quintent –Woerth was joined by Nathalie Bélinguier, Réjane Lacoste, Dominique Hazan, and Nicole Séroul (women involved in horse racing and textiles)– Dam’s has prospered and today counts about thirty members. Incidentally, under a law known by its French acronym, TEPA, investment in Dam’s yields significant tax benefits for its members. (The stable seems to have recently become publicity-shy, it’s web site having gone blank.)
• Woerth is widely reported to have longstanding ties with France Galop, another equestrian organization. She seems, at the least, to have served in the past on its horse owners’ committee.

Woerth’s equestrian interests are close to home, as her husband is mayor of Chantilly, a major equestrian center in France. This having been said, matters equestrian have dealt Eric Woerth the misfortune of an additional controversy: the press is asking why, just be changing ministerial portfolios, Woerth authorized the sale of a racetrack complex, estimated as worth €20 million, for €2.5 million in favor of its politically friendly tenant.

Long considered a great place to work and much admired in business, Arthur Andersen became a target for criticism in the wake of the implosion and scandal of Enron (also considered a great place to work and, in its heyday, much admired in business).

Arthur Andersen was criticized mostly for how its different parts worked as a whole. In addition to auditing, Arthur Andersen sold accounting services and consulted on many business questions. According to critics, an entity that sold advisory services could not be counted on to audit impartially the recipient of its own advice, especially as consulting was more profitable than auditing.

An alumnus of Arthur Andersen has been in the news in France.

Eric Woerth is mayor of Chantilly (a town north of France famous for its stables and horse racing), MP from the 4th district of the Oise, French conservative party treasurer, former budget minister, and current labor minister.

Eric Woerth is also the husband of Florence Woerth, a financial analyst. The details are contested, but according to press reports Eric Woerth orchestrated a meeting between Florence Woerth and money manager Patrice de Maistre. In any case, Florence Woerth soon got a job and Patrice de Maistre soon got a decoration.

Florence Woerth joined Clymène, a money management firm run by Patrice de Maistre that has two unusual features: its sole shareholder and sole client is Liliane Bettencourt, an heiress to the L’Oréal fortune; and it consistently loses money, having suffered losses of more than €100 million from 2000 through 2008.

Patrice de Maistre was inducted into the French Legion of Honor, and received a decoration directly from Eric Woerth. According to press reports, the ceremony to present the decoration had been scheduled originally for November 2007, when Florence Woerth joined Clymène, then was moved to January 2008.

Earlier this summer, there was much talk about conflict of interest.

For former finance minister and free-market conservative Alain Madelin, “This is a situation of conflict of interest, incompatible with the office”.

Eric Woerth contested the point. But he also started talking about a “Chinese Wall”, borrowing a term that investment banks use to describe how they practice underwriting and trading under the same roof. And as this metaphor makes plain, even if the Woerths never talk about their work, they do share a household, supporting one another financially.

Florence Woerth resigned from Clymène, which seemed to undercut her husband’s denial of any problem.

Christine Boutin

Christine Boutin, a conservative politician best known for opposition to gay marriage and interest in prisons, lost her job as minister for housing and urban affairs; she had previously lost her seat in parliament.

Despite inactivity, Boutin suffered no hardship. Boutin remained a county representative (conseiller général), paid € 2,605 per month. A pension from the national assembly brought her an additional € 6,000 per month.

Boutin made the news last week when it was reported that president Sarkozy had entrusted her with a mission: to formulate proposals on the social consequences of globalization, in time for the G20 meeting later this year.

To carry out this mission, Boutin benefits from a chauffeured car; offices in Paris; secretarial assistance; the services of four staffers (all of whom, judging from salary, are quite senior, as they earn between € 4,740.67 and € 6,000 per month); and a monthly remuneration of € 9,500 (reportedly net of social security and related payroll taxes). This seems to be a very generous pay package for very easy work, so Boutin’s package made the news.

Unfortunately, Boutin seems not to have an advocate –a friend, an ally, a confederate– who could answer the media by rhetorically asking, “Since when do we debate the merits of what people earn?” or by stating impetuously, “Good work, if you can get it.”

Boutin instead spoke out on her own behalf. She made a few missteps:

• First, she clarified that her mission was real, as opposed to a no-show job.
• Second, she claimed that she had no say or choice in the remuneration, that the €9,500 monthly emolument resulted from a bureaucratic calculus that took account of seniority and what other highly qualified people would be paid.
• Third, she spoke down to the people she serves, claiming, “I’ve heard French people who have little wages who, today, cannot understand that there’d be a political leader who has a cash inflow of about 18,000 euros.” (emphasis added)
• Finally, Boutin declared that she would waive “my 9,500 euros”. (emphasis added)

France enjoys a long and honorable tradition of civil service. One would think that (semi-) retired elected officials would accept sine pecunia the leadership of a mission to advise the president.

Banishment and deportation were, for centuries, punishments under French law. They helped people (with French natives) French colonies in the Pacific, South America, and North Africa. A pair of some truly odd people might restore banishment and deportation to the French criminal code.

The story starts with a burka-wearing motorist in Nantes, pulled over for a routine traffic offense. Instead of apologizing to the police or paying a modest fine, the motorist chose to contest the limit on wearing a burka. This drew investigative curiosity from law enforcement.

Investigation led to the man in the motorist’s life, Lies Hebbadj, who has 4 wives and 15 children (two more are expected soon). Hebbadj is charged with “instigating” welfare fraud. According to prosecutors, over three years, Hebbadj and his large household received € 175,000 in welfare payments; had all family members lived under the same roof, the amount would have been € 88,000. (For clarity: some payments are based solely on parenthood, without regard to revenue.) For the prosecutors, Hebbadj’s conduct is particularly culpable because he “knowingly” decided not to acknowledge paternity of four children. (For clarity: “isolated”, single parents are entitled to more assistance than couples.)

For interior minister Brice Hortfeux, Hebbadj’s possible conviction is not enough. Hortefeux, one of the oddest characters in the conservative government and freshly convicted of racial insult (injure raciale, a conviction which Hortefeux reportedly will appeal), wants to mete out special punishment.

Hortfeux’s first line of attack was polygamy. Based on the facts of the case, this seemed simple enough. The law, however, prohibits bigamy: a married person who would contract a second marriage (like a homeowner with mortgage might contract a second mortgage). Polygamous cohabitation apparently is not prohibited under French law today.

Frustrated and mad as a hornet, this led Hortfeux to his second line of attack: banishment. For Hortefeux, “When a foreigner gains [French] citizenship thanks to marrying a French woman, and then, in the following years, lives in de facto polygamy, abusing the welfare system, is it normal that he keep French citizenship? My answer is no.” Hortefeux wants to strip Hebbadj of French citizenship, then deport him.

Since when has banishment been a punishment in France? Believe it or not, for hundreds of years. Banishment and deportation (and related concepts, like “civil death”) had a long history in French law, starting in the Renaissance and ending ultimately only with de Gaulle. They were especially serious forms of punishent, on par with execution. They were used, from the revolution of 1789 through the Paris commune in the 1870s, especially for political offenses. A special punishment was enacted for Dreyfus in 1895; one would hop this would give pause to Hortefeux.

A post-script. A big part of the Hebbadj controversy has not been reported or discussed. In addition to welfare fraud, Hebbadj is also charged with serious criminal offenses stemming from employment, from 2007 through 2010, of foreign students or undocumented workers. Apart from working conditions with prosecutors described as particularly deplorable, Hebbadj apparently paid his employees much less than the minimum wage. If the facts are as alleged, the case illustrates the plight of transient or undocumented workers who don’t report abuse, whether from ignorance or fear of attracting unwanted attention from authorities. I think it’s sad that the case has not received more attention.

Another post-script. I can’t help but wonder whether politics fuels Hortefeux’s peculiar interest in Hebbadj’s fate. Does Hortefeux harbor revenge fantasies against François Mitterrand, the twice-elected French president who for decades lived with two women, one his wife, the other his concubine?