Me and Sarkozy: Life with Nicolas

I should probably be pleased that Nicolas Sarkozy was elected president of France last night. My husband, a French entrepreneur (up until now a contradiction in terms), earns many times the national average, and we will probably pay fewer taxes. We own property; it would be nice if the interest on our mortgage was tax-deductible. Technically I'm an immigrant, but an immigrant with an American Express card is unlikely to be sent back where they came from.

Elected with a strong 53% of the vote, Nicolas Sarkozy is, for better or for worse, what France needs. Last night's victory speech emphasized a new working relationship with Europe and a strong, if slightly condescending friendship with the United States. France is about to be dragged kicking and screaming into a 21 st century market economy, killing the 35-hour work week and trimming a bloated civil service.

This new France leaves many fearful, but I saw something on the Paris metro this morning that reminded me why it just might work:

After an early meeting, I took the train from Alma Marceau, right across the river from the Eiffel Tower and down the block from the 5-star Hotel George V. The platform was empty; many are away for the long weekend. There was one nicely dressed young man, carrying a satchel and a computer case, kneeling beside a dirty unshaven man with heavy, diseased eyes.

I watched as the young man missed one train, then another, then another, squatting next to the hunched figure as he spoke, and staying there when he folded his head into his jacket and seemed to fall asleep. The young man took out a digital camera and took a picture. He left a note and some money just beside the man's shoe.

I grew up on the New York subway, and I remember (despite being a lifelong Democrat) the purposeful, hurried gait I cultivated specifically to avoid such encounters. It shocked me when I first came to France, the number of people who readily put change into outstretched paper cups on the metro, or who piled used books next to the sleeping bag of a man on the rue du Rivoli. Many of France's social programs are inefficient, idealistic, and hugely expensive -- but they exist, not as Christian charity or election year stunts, but as a civic imperative. This civic code of solidarity is extremely strong, and it has a tendency to trickle down to small acts like the one I saw today. Sarkozy may talk like an up-by-your-bootstraps Texas Republican, but he is not going to dismantle universal health care, outlaw maternity leave or put a €200,000 price tag on a university education.

France's head is clearly with America now; and we will see what free-market capitalism does to my local butcher or to French independent cinema. But France's heart is still in the right place. Sarkozy's new economic liberalism stands a chance because France's social contract is already up and running.