Gilles-William Goldnadel is a lawyer and essayist. Every week, he deciphers the news for FigaroVox.
The parliamentary comedy "La farce d'Éric Coquerel" was given in three acts at the Bourbon theater last week.
First act.
The dean, of a respectable age and generally respected, delivered a speech of classic invoice.
But it turns out that José Gonzalez is from a party that wants to be national but that some consider to be nationalist.
It also happens that he grew up in this overseas territory that Charles X and his successor believed they had to conquer to prevent Barbary raids.
It still happens that the parliamentary tradition wants the dean to talk about his past.
José Gonzalez therefore complied, evoking the pangs of his forced exile in 1962 with emotional words that became moving.
Without ever addressing the political question.
But it was already too much for the party of the Insoumis that some hold, but in secret, for enrages.
It is enough for the latter to hear a Frenchman crying over his Algerian childhood and a white man evoking the Pied-noir tragedy, for him to unleash an indignant uproar in the Assembly.
On July 5, we will commemorate the massacre of Oran where, in the indifference of France, at least 700 French from Algeria and Muslims were immolated even though Algeria had obtained independence.
May all the inconsolable Gonzalez of France be consoled, if only to show the arm of honor to the heartless.
A young and new deputy, in neglected uniform, refused that tended by one of his colleagues of the national party.
At this point of boorishness and boorishness combined, the author suggests that honest representatives of the nation should refuse the hand of obtuse bastards.
Just to see shame finally change sides.
Gilles-William Goldnadel
I thus come to Act II which concerns not the arm, but the hand.
A young and new deputy, in neglected uniform, indeed refused that tended by one of his colleagues of the national party.
To the delight of his friends.
The impolite, Insoumis, is called Louis Boyard.
We had known him to be very nice, even though Big Mouth, in another life.
To justify his gesture or rather his absence, he invoked, always within the framework of this comedy which was intended to be witty, a risk of contamination by the simple touch of two diseases of the human soul which he identified as a scholar as that racism and anti-Semitism.
In view of the scientific knowledge of the present times, it would seem that the young Louis Boyard, like many others, suffered from a cruel delay.
He seems unaware that while the national party has recovered from its two illnesses, his own is showing the most cruel symptoms.
This is how he took part in demonstrations by radical mohammedans close to these Muslim Brotherhood considered as terrorists in many countries.
This is also how two of his colleagues, Danièle Obono and Danielle Simonnet, invited Jeremy Corbyn to Paris, considered a virulent anti-Semite by his own party.
This shows how much the prophylactic argument was comic art.
At this point of boorishness and boorishness united, the author suggests that the honest representatives of the nation should henceforth refuse the hand of obtuse bastards.
Just to see shame finally change sides.
Éric Cocquerel, extremely to the left of this extreme left, demonstrated in favor of Georges Ibrahim Abdallah, Lebanese terrorist, condemned by France for having participated in the assassination of two American and Israeli diplomats, proudly displaying the portrait of his hero .
Gilles-William Goldnadel
Last act.
Which is more of a drama.
Last Thursday with the passivity, if not the complicity, of certain members of this conservative party which has known many misfortunes because of its errors, Éric Cocquerel, extremely to the left of this extreme left, acceded to the presidency of the strategic fort Finance Committee.
We would not have enough of a booklet to evoke the high deeds of the promoted.
It is thus, in particular, that this elected citizen demonstrated in favor of Georges Ibrahim Abdallah, Lebanese terrorist, condemned by France for having participated in the assassination of two American and Israeli diplomats, by proudly displaying the portrait of his hero.
It was he again who, in his stronghold, wearing the tricolor scarf, accompanied a troop of foreigners illegally to occupy the Saint-Denis basilica where our kings of France are buried.
We have already seen parliamentarians inspiring more esteem and confidence.
While I was going to put the end to this tragicomedy in three acts, here is an unexpected twist that brings it to vaudeville.
After Éric Coquerel was elected, the activist Rokhaya Diallo, usually close to his movement because of indigenism and racialism, but with more gracious manners, declared her astonishment on the air that such a post could go to a a man who was said to be too eager with the ladies.
At these words, the Insoumis party declared all its indignation by the electronic pen of its leader, in the same spirited style which it had used if not abused, in a Taha Bouhafs affair, before the latter resigned pitifully.
The party's feminists, Clémentine Autain and her ecologist neighbor Sandrine Rousseau, those who usually shoot the first white male accused of having dared to give a too boldly flattered compliment, swore on Capital that they had never heard the slightest rumor concerning the one they considered the perfect gentleman.
Regarding a party that has made a specialty of "listening to women's voices", which considers that any white male who dares to compliment a woman on her chest is a potential rapist, the sudden deafness of its feminists graduates is a matter of complicity.
Gilles-William Goldnadel
But twist after twist, we learned yesterday Sunday that the citizen president Éric Coquerel was now forced to explain himself in the newspaper appearing that day on accusations whose existence he still strangely disputed.
And now Patatras!
New twist, we learned around eleven o'clock that Sophie Tissier, having formerly worn a yellow vest, had seized the "committee for monitoring sexist and sexual violence" of the party concerning the aforementioned sir of inappropriate behavior.
.
.
That it is allowed at this stage of the intrigue to the author to reveal to his reader that this one, in spite of the rigors of the age and his awkwardness there consequent to control the electronic tool, had delivered the watch the names of the accuser and yet another.
It seems surprising to him that it was necessary to wait for the promotion of the accused for these already old accusations to be brought to the attention of the public by a press that is usually more curious about this very modern feminist matter.
That finally and above all that as a lawyer, man and citizen, he is the last to want to publicly accuse a man presumed innocent in this very subjective and sensitive area before any possible judicial review.
But when it comes to a party that has made it an almost medical specialty of "listening to women's voices", which considers any white male who dares to compliment a woman on her chest to be a potential rapist, the sudden deafness of its graduate feminists stems from complicity.
That in order not to plagiarize Monsieur Lumière's cinematography too much, he finally titled his play with twists and turns "Les arroseuses arrosées".
But unfortunately, in life, what looks like a bad summer comedy ends in tragedy when the curtain and the leaves fall.
