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.

Despite an abundance of civic-minded talent among conservatives, French president Sarkozy continues to surround himself with people whom he knows but who lack policy skill or political savvy.

The most recent diplomatic blunder comes from the woman in charge of French diplomacy, foreign affairs minister Michèle Alliot-Marie.

Alliot-Marie was practically born into politics: her father was a political figure in the French Basque country (and is today a rugby referee, which in some respects is a higher political calling). Alliot-Marie long served as a local official on the Atlantic coast and as an MP. As though she were playing a ministerial Monopoly game, Alliot-Marie assumed the foreign affairs ministry last year, after having previously served in  conservative governments over the past twenty-five years as minister for justice, interior, defense, youth, and education.

Despite an impressive background in politics, Alliot-Marie has made some remarkably impolitic blunders in the past weeks.

Most recently, Alliot-Marie made an appearance in Cairo where she flattered the Mubarak regime with praise that seems not to have been necessary or diplomatically expedient.

This absence of diplomatic caution is all the more remarkable as Alliot-Marie had faced public criticism, only a few weeks earlier, in the wake of an offer of French savoir-faire in policing or riot control to the Ben Ali regime in Tunisia.

The revelation that most calls into question Alliot-Marie’s judgment is also the most personal, concerning a vacation Alliot-Marie took with her husband (a longtime conservative MP, now deputy minister for parliamentary relations) during a vacation between Christmas and the New Year.

Given that protest had already gripped Tunisia before her departure, Alliot-Marie’s first lapse in judgment was going on the holiday at all: even while traveling as a private person, Alliot-Marie’s ministerial function would give rise to all sorts of speculation.

More fundamentally, while on vacation, Alliot-Marie rode in a private jet and stayed at a luxury hotel owned by Tunisian businessman Aziz Miled. On this point, French commentators have gotten sidetracked, intrigued with minutia such as whether Miled was part of or apart from the Ben Ali regime. This misses the fundamental political point of accepting gifts, especially those offered by foreigners in turbulent places to the political head of a diplomatic service. It is remarkable that a diplomatic head, seasoned by decades in politics, would fail to appreciate the appearance of impropriety that accepting such gifts -calls for Alliot-Marie or her husband to produce receipts (for the hotel stay) have, so far, gone unanswered- would create. It is despairing that she would not have thought to take a few steps to make sure such an appearance would never be created.

French president Sarkozy announced a scheme to promote learning English. Sarkozy has trouble with his native tongue and has a limited command of English. His scheme revolves around preschoolers and computers. It won’t work: French students tread water in language classes for years, never progressing towards measurable competence; and French language teaching adores abstraction and hidebound rules.

Le Monde accompanied its report of the presidential scheme with testimony from its readers and bloggers. Their comments are eye-opening. Where and how do French people learn English? Not in the classroom, in class; but at home, while watching “South Park” or “Friends,” reading Harry Potter, or listening to popular music.

On languages, Sarkozy turns out to be more a follower than a leader. What is really happening, today, in French society is more impressive than politicians’ vague hopes for the future. The photo above was taken at a Relay newsstand in a Paris train station. The display window promotes four titles. Remarkably, the books are available in French translation, and also in English. A close look will reveal two lessons: the English-language books are physically smaller than the French translations; and the English-language books are significantly cheaper than the French translations.

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.