In the baking hot sun at the exit of Jules Joffrin Métro station, Jean-Philippe Daviaud and his clean-cut socialist comrades were having trouble getting their message across.
However, the slogans of their rivals, represented by four vociferous communists, were going down well with Parisian commuters.
”No to competition between European workers,” shouted a woman in a grubby grey T-shirt. ”No to Bush, no to Nato, no to the treaty, yes to peace,” shouted a man in a hoarse voice.
Despite being armed with two shopping trolleys of smart red ”oui” brochures and a ”Letter to all Parisians” from socialist mayor Bertrand Delanöe, the best Daviaud could come up with was ”Yes to Europe! Yes to Europe!” It was like a boy soprano trying to out-voice a brass band.
As campaigning ended on Friday night ahead of Sunday’s historic referendum in France over the Treaty to Establish a European Constitution, the ”non” on the streets is echoed in final opinion polls.
The pollsters, of course, may have got it wrong, but all the signs are of a resounding slap in the face not just for right-wing President Jacques Chirac, but for the project that has consumed Europe’s ruling classes for more than a decade.
With surveys in The Netherlands, which votes on Wednesday, giving the no camp there up to a commanding 57%, it seemed on Saturday night as though two of the European Union’s founding members were ready to turn out the lights.
Such decisions resonate far beyond both countries’ borders. Europe now stands at a perilous crossroads: rejection — if it triggered the death or at least prolonged delay of reforms designed to smooth the running of an enlarged EU — would not just see decision-making paralysed, or block the path of new nations queuing to join.
The Constitution was always about more than fiddling with voting procedures: hatched in the aftermath of the Maastricht crisis as a way of bonding the EU with its people, thrashed out over three years, it was to redefine what Europe is for. Instead, it now threatens to fracture the continent.
”We have had 20 years of integration — of deepening and widening — ever since the Single European Act. The French no could actually end that,” says Charles Grant, director of the British Centre for European Reform.
Business as usual
This is not, of course, the message that will come from the Elysée Palace, or from Whitehall, or from the Bundestag on Monday. Heads of state will hastily declare that it can still be business as usual — not least because the Dutch are due to vote two days later, and panic would only encourage another rejection.
After all, they will argue, so long as four-fifths of EU countries ratify the text, it comes into force: the Dutch referendum is legally non-binding, and Spain has voted yes.
With 16 of the 25 members deciding to pass the treaty on the nod through their Parliaments — as Germany did on Friday — the Constitution itself could be safe. The text could always be put to French voters again next year. Countries that reject it could be given some kind of special status.
Realpolitik, however, suggests otherwise. Jack Straw, the British Foreign Secretary who pushed Prime Minister Tony Blair to hold a referendum, has admitted that a ”non” would cause a ”problem”. Menzies Campbell, his Liberal Democrat counterpart, says a British referendum after that would be ”ludicrous”.
The embryonic British yes campaign talks morosely of a ”domino effect” with referendums toppling across Europe.
However reflective of purely national malaise it may be, a French no would be hugely symbolic — far more so than a British or Polish one. It would be a no from the heart of Europe, not its fringes — from the country whose Franco-German coal and steel alliance in 1950 led to the creation, seven years later, of the European Economic Community, from the country seen as the custodian the European ideal.
Little wonder that the post-mortems are already beginning as to how the yes campaign let its support slide from 64% last autumn to less than 50% today: even a last-minute victory would still be far too close for comfort. How could they so have misjudged the public mood?
When Laurent Fabius, the most heavyweight voice in the no camp, made a major televised speech recently, his ratings topped those for the French football cup final. The French public can hardly be accused of not taking matters seriously.
Every household has received a copy of the entire 191-page document: one in 10 citizens has read it cover to cover. Half of the top 10 titles on French non-fiction bestseller lists concern the treaty. And yet for all this mastery of detail, far deeper and less rational forces are driving this debate.
Cheap labour
The influx of cheap east European labour following last year’s expansion of the EU might have been welcomed by the British middle classes desperate for reliable plumbers, but in France — with unemployment rates above 10% — it was deeply unsettling.
”No” campaigners were quick to make the link, blaming 6 500 French job losses on enlargement: the Constitution, with its emphasis on economic liberalisation, is seen is just another assault on protected French markets, and another threat to jobs.
”The French are not reconciled to the Poles and others being in the EU: everybody’s talking about Polish plumbers, and when unemployment is so high, that matters,” Grant said. ”It is in some ways a belated vote against the current enlargement, which is not popular. People understand quite correctly that the new Europe is a more British Europe: the accession countries do see the world through British prisms.”
With a generation of visionless politicians who conveniently blame Brussels every time they have to enact a directive they have themselves supported, it is perhaps unsurprising that French voters see themselves drowning in a frightening, English-speaking world of Chinese-made cardigans selling for â,¬5.
They fret over perceptions that galloping capitalism is trampling the hard-won welfare state, that unpasteurised cheese is under threat or that Brussels wants to interfere with the cherished shooting season.
Turkey on the way
And with Turkey due to open talks on accession to the EU this autumn, anti-Turkish feeling has also been a factor. In an article in Le Figaro two weeks ago, the far-right Front National’s Jean Marie Le Pen argued that when Turkey joins, ”it will be the most populous country in the EU, with about 100-million citizens and 15% of votes in the Council of Ministers. A Berlin-Ankara axis would completely marginalise France and force her out by the back door.”
He omitted to mention that the treaty envisages another referendum before any further enlargement.
In The Netherlands, too, the xenophobes are out in force, claiming that ”soon 80-million Turks will have a stronger voice than 17-million Dutch people”. The potential loss of influence in Brussels is seen as a blow to a Dutch clampdown on immigration pushed through since the murder of controversial filmmaker Theo van Gogh by a suspected Islamic extremist.
Turkish and enlargement issues have poisoned the French debate, according to the pro-Constitution philosopher Bernard-Henri Lévy.
”On the far left there has been a base sovereignty and protectionist reflex. A message of contempt has been sent out to central and eastern Europe, as though the people from there — to whom we owe a debt of gratitude that goes back to World War II — were some kind of glutinous enzyme which is bleeding dry our social models and ruining our prosperity.”
Weak arguments from the yes campaign, centred on claims that no would weaken France — or, according to Chirac, ”you can’t call yourself a European if you vote no” — have not helped.
Chirac’s personal unpopularity is such that after his first two keynote appeals to the voters, the yes vote actually dipped: although his last televised speech on Thursday night may have clawed back a few percentage polls; his language was alarmist, warning of ”divisions, doubts and uncertainty” if France voted no.
‘We were caught unawares’
Daviaud, who is the parliamentary adviser to Parisian socialist MP Christophe Caresche, admitted there have been weaknesses in the socialist yes campaign.
”We were caught unawares because our internal party referendum on December 1 last year came out 60% in favour of the Constitution on an 80% turnout,” he said.
”When Fabius suddenly relaunched his political career on the back of the no campaign, we had no idea that he would have so much success. By his presence in that campaign he legitimised an electorate that might otherwise have felt uncomfortable heeding the call of the far left and far right.”
On the pro-Constitution right, the post-mortem is also under way. Although the government appears to have carried most of its own UDF and UMP voters, it has not made inroads into the electorate of the staunchly anti-European Front National and of nationalist Philippe de Villiers’s Mouvement Pour la France.
”No one saw the success of the no camp coming,” said a government minister who did not want to be named. ”Apart from the poor and unemployed, a large share of working, successful people are intending to vote no. We only managed to secure the Rotarians and the pensioners.”
Meanwhile, the treaty’s opponents — a ragtag coalition stretching from communists to the far right, through anti-globalisation protesters, socialists and greens — have successfully painted the Constitution not only as an overly free market, but as ensuring a creeping alignment with Nato through joint defence plans. The debate has become mixed up with anti-George Bush feeling.
Homelessness campaigner Jacques Gaillot, a highly respected no campaigner, says he is suspicious of the talk of a stronger, more powerful Europe.
”I get the impression that the treaty supports the adage that, if you want peace, prepare for war.”
Supporters, of course, argue that French factories would have relocated eastwards with or without enlargement and that expansion has brought lucrative investment opportunities. It gives citizens the right to lodge mass petitions and makes the EU less unwieldy, thanks to gaining its own foreign minister: the reweighting of qualified majority voting to favour large countries would also benefit France.
What about the British?
They have struggled, however, to overcome one of the most damaging impressions — that the main beneficiaries of this watered-down treaty are that old enemy, the British.
Blair will be unwinding in sunny Tuscany when the results from Paris begin to filter through. The prime minister will break the family holiday he began on Saturday on Monday to give his response to the results at a press conference in Florence. It may not exactly prove relaxing news.
At first sight, a non may seem the answer to his prayers, making a referendum in Britain almost impossible to hold — and that could save him from the ignominy of possibly losing it.
For once, the British would not even have to be seen killing it off: pressure to ditch the Constitution is more likely to come first from those countries with imminent referendums, such as Denmark — due to vote in September — or Poland. Britain’s vote is not due until next year, giving it the luxury of being above the fray.
But there will be no champagne flowing on the villa terrace nonetheless. Rejection would not only present a monumental headache for Britain’s six-month presidency of the EU, starting in July, but would also — hard on the heels of the failure to join the single currency — dash Blair’s hopes of making the pro-European cause his personal legacy as prime minister.
”In a way, he quite relished the referendum which he always believed — still believes — is winnable,” says one senior Whitehall source. ”He thought that would be a cathartic moment for re-establishing the national consensus broadly in favour of Europe.”
Sunder Katwala, secretary general of Labour think-tank the Fabian Society, argues that while Labour’s initial response would be ”a vast feeling of relief” at not having to fight a referendum, that attitude would be short-sighted.
”The implications for the effective functioning of the EU — and the things this British government wants to see, from economic reform to Turkey joining — are quite stark and serious.”
Political effects
It could have more direct political effects, too. Most Labour backbenchers have assumed Blair would lead them through an EU referendum and its potentially messy aftermath, before handing power to Gordon Brown — but without a referendum, pressure might build for him to go earlier.
Scrapping the vote would also free the pro-European Kenneth Clarke to run for the Tory leadership, unencumbered by the argument that his views would pull the party apart during a referendum campaign. Clarke was last week openly debating whether the Tories were ”leadable” still — seen as code for whether they will submit to being led by him.
A yes, on the other hand, would mean British politics for the next year dominated by the struggle to overturn a growing wave of scepticism at home. Polls taken last week show opposition to the Constitution at 57%, up 9% from March. No wonder the pavement cafés of Paris were dusted with British MPs this week, curious to see the future.
At first sight, there are few parallels to draw: French voters’ complaints that the treaty is too Anglo-Saxon, and that social rights are too watered down, are ironically the exact opposite of English eurosceptics’ fears that the treaty is not nearly Anglo-Saxon enough.
But if somehow the Constitution is saved, a yes campaign on the other side of the channel would be very different. No mailing out of complete copies of the document: Britain in Europe, the embryonic yes campaign, wants to boil down its arguments to a couple of sides of A4 paper.
The charge would be led by celebrities and businessmen, rather than less popular politicians, and it would take nothing for granted.
”In this country, the yes campaign is far, far less complacent: [the French side] didn’t get focused until quite late in the day,” says Lucy Powell, director of Britain in Europe.
Katwala describes the campaign as a ”strategic cock-up”, arguing it had too little to say about how ordinary people would benefit.
A challenge to reconnect
For whether or not the Constitution dies, the challenge now facing Europe as it struggles to put the pieces back together is to reconnect: in short, to find a way to make its citizens care.
The first smoke signals will emerge on Sunday night from Brussels, where the Luxembourg Prime Minister Jean-Claude Juncker — whose country currently holds the EU presidency — and European Commission president José Barroso will respond. With the Dutch polls still pending, however, nobody will want to rock the boat: promises to listen and learn from the result, while hoping for a yes in The Netherlands, are likely.
The one person likely to let off fireworks, characteristically, could be Chirac. The big question, says Powell, is: ”Will Chirac immediately try and blame everybody else, including Tony Blair and the British, and say he had to have a referendum because Blair backed him into a corner?”
Serious negotiations over the way forward will not begin until the European council in mid-June — just, awkwardly, as preparations for the British presidency reach their height. There is likely to be no quick resolution: few leaders will want to admit that three years’ wrestling with the treaty have just gone up in smoke.
But there will be deeper matters to settle than just the future of the treaty itself. The Constitution was born out of the desire to bring the EU closer to its people: a French rejection would suggest it had achieved the opposite. More worryingly still, a broader disenchantment with the ruling political class across Europe will make referenda if anything harder to win in future.
A week ago, voters in North-Rhine Westphania took one look at the German 12% unemployment rate and showed Chancellor Gerhard Schröder towards the exit: a snap election this autumn could return the right to power. Italy’s Silvio Berlusconi is struggling with a stagnant economy and successive regional election losses.
Poland’s Communist-inspired parliamentary majority is expected to collapse when its citizens go to the polls in October. A Dutch no would be damaging for the country’s unpopular Christian Democrat Prime Minister, Jan Peter Balkenende.
And even if the Constitution were saved, France’s mainstream political scene is in tatters. Chirac is expected to respond by replacing Prime Minister Jean-Pierre Raffarin, reshuffling the Cabinet and possibly calling parliamentary elections this autumn: he could even resign, although diplomats expect him to tough it out — and to fight for the future of the Constitution.
French political scientist Dominique Reynié argues it would only be in danger if, by the end of next year, fewer than 20 countries have ratified it: those who reject it could always be given special status. they could be given special status.
Renegotiation
”Renegotiation is not an option,” said Reynié, ”given that it would not be possible to impose a rewritten text on countries that had approved the original by referendum.” Plus, he argues, if France and Britain were both requesting renegotiation, ”one wonders how much common ground there would be”.
On that, at least, the British are agreed: one diplomat describes rewriting as ”the least probable option”, given that any treaty more acceptable to the French public would probably outrage their already sceptical British cousins.
A year of fierce debate is now almost inevitable — and, if the Constitution cannot be rescued, the search for a new cause to rally around will begin. Chirac may have said in his final address that ”there is no other project”, but London disagrees.
Gordon Brown — who could, conceivably, be in Downing Street instead of Blair by the time this debate concludes — is already looking to redouble his efforts on economic reform. Within the British Foreign Office, there are other ideas: refocusing on practical issues, from the terrorist threat to unemployment, rather than institutional navel-gazing.
Back outside the Paris Métro, however, Daviaud says while the French public have certainly been fiercely engaged in the debate, it is mostly because they are so frustrated, with price increases since the euro, enlargement and more domestic gripes.
He is interrupted by a man intent on voting non simply, it seems, because that is a very French thing to do. Retired civil servant Jean Martin is fed up with his inconsiderate neighbours who have got builders in ”and they are working all hours to maximise profit”.
Martin adds that Parisians have become very selfish: ”You can tell because they even refuse to sort their rubbish according to the coloured lids on the dustbins.”
Daviaud attempts a timid retort — ”and you think voting no to the Constitution is going to help?” — but Martin has by then flashed back to his youth: ”We did in May 1968. We staged a revolution and the world looked up to us. We had it all then but we did not want it. Today, we have lots of problems and every reason to fight back. It is time for France to lead the world again.” — Guardian Unlimited Â