It was in 1974: a young president in a suit-jacket crossed on foot, to the cheers, the porch of the Elysee.
On post-war France, that of the Fourth Republic and the barons of Gaullism, he was going to blow the wind of change and
"relaxation"
in gusts
.
To this gifted politician, the gods who rule by chance of birth had given everything: an extraordinary intelligence, a haughty elegance, the taste for understanding and the talent to explain, the gift of seduction and the authority to to command… But also the acute feeling of its obvious superiority.
Too sharp perhaps: seven years later, the same man - victim of his absurdities, of the economic crisis and of the betrayal of his camp - passed, still on foot, the same porch - but this time under the whistles.
Between the two: the broken line of a reforming principate, rich in dashed hopes and unfulfilled dreams.
Paradox, this patrician made for happiness and who wanted so much to be loved, this polytechnician
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