The Jobert Phenomenon

Since the death of Georges Pompidou last April, the party of Charles de Gaulle has been in a disarray bordering on ruin. In the May election for Pompidou's successor as President, the official Gaullist candidate won only 15% of the vote, and after 16 years in the Elysee, the party saw the presidency go to a non-Gaullist, former Finance Minister Valery Giscard d'Estaing. Many Gaullists are now turning to another non-Gaullist who, paradoxically, they think may be the savior of their movement. He is Michel Jobert, 53, who, as Georges Pompidou's last Foreign Minister, was a frequent critic of both Henry Kissinger and the Common Market. Jobert's recently published political memoirs, proudly nationalistic and subtly anti-American, have created a sensation in France, and he is now one of the country's most exciting politicians. To find out what his appeal is, TIME Correspondent George Taber followed Jobert on a swing through southwestern France last week and sent this report:

French politics has rarely seen the equivalent of what is universally known as "the Jobert phenomenon." The elfin, acerbic Jobert was unknown outside the shadows of power less than two years ago, but already his new party, the Movement of Democrats, has an impressive total of 140 clubs around the nation. Jobert, who currently holds no government post, looks like a candidate running hard for office, even though it is 6 1/2 years before the next presidential election and three years before the next scheduled vote for the National Assembly. During one barnstorming day last week, Jobert shook hands at the town market at Mirepoix, visited a farm and a textile plant, lunched with about 50 supporters in Foix, drank a glass of wine at the local weekly newspaper in Limoux, visited a wine cave, autographed 100 copies of his memoirs at a bookstore in Carcassonne, dined with another group of supporters and then ended the day with a rally of some 200 people in a Carcassonne shopping center.

Even in these face-to-face meetings, though, Jobert remains an enigma. Small in stature (5 ft. 4 in.) and shy in demeanor, Jobert is a world apart from the usual backslapping, smiling politician. Born in Morocco of French parents, he did not come to France to live until he was 18. He graduated from the prestigious National School of Administration, and until Pompidou appointed him Foreign Minister in 1973, he had spent his entire career as a bureaucrat. He is quiet, shakes hands with a stiffness in his right arm from a war wound, and rarely smiles, except for a tight-lipped grin after he has made a clever bon mot.

His public rallies are more of the same. Deadly serious, Jobert could almost be making a budget presentation. He rattles in a monotone through "my analysis of the situation" or a "brief analysis." But he has a certain malicious wit. When asked why he had not mentioned the name of his rival, President Giscard d'Estaing, once in the 310 pages of his memoirs, Jobert replied: "The name of the President of the Republic was too long to write."

He insists that he also has a clear, somewhat left-of-center political philosophy, though like De Gaulle, Jobert has steadfastly avoided all political labels. "What I offer is serenity and hope for French people who are not at ease with either the Giscard majority or the left opposition," he says. "People don't want to be either in the left or the right, but want to be outside ideology. In this period of difficulty and division of the country, they want to avoid a confrontation between the two parts of France. I am neither to the left nor to the right but elsewhere." His critics complain that politically he is nowhere.

Fundamental Point. Because of his year at the head of the Quai d'Orsay, Jo-bert's views on foreign affairs are well known. Following Pompidou's lead, he expressed alarm, often abrasively, at U.S.-Soviet detente, which he felt entailed a superpower "condominium" for governing the world, and he sought to work out independent French deals with the Arab oil producers. French "grandeur" was always a chief concern. "National independence is the fundamental point of French foreign policy," he says. "France has a world vocation even if that does not please some other countries. I may be accused of being anti-American in the U.S., but that is false like many reputations. When one doesn't agree with the United States, one is immediately considered antiAmerican." On a personal basis, anyway, he cannot be accused of anti-Americanism: his wife, the former Muriel Green, is from the U.S.

It is in economics and social policy that Jobert is most critical of Giscard. Jobert's main line of attack is that Giscard's handling of France's economy during his long tenure as Finance Minister is the cause of the country's rampant inflation (15%) today. He claims that Giscard promised all through 1973 that inflation was about to fall, and since the election has refused to take the severe measures necessary to bring the economy back into balance. Jobert says: "We still haven't been told the gravity of the situation, and we must start fighting inflation more seriously than we have done so far."

When delivered by Jobert in his cool, rational style, such attacks do not begin to explain the "Jobert happening," and 50 million Frenchmen have 50 million explanations for his rise. One of the clearest was given by a top official in the Quai d'Orsay, who violently disagrees with the way Jobert conducted foreign policy. "Jobert appeals to the French because they see themselves and then-vision of France in him. He was the small but courageous man who stood up to the great powers through his sheer intelligence. He pulls the tail of the lion by attacking Kissinger or Giscard--and gets away with it."

Ignoring Jobert. The former Foreign Minister and Giscard have long been at odds, and they rarely ever speak to each other. At his October press conference, Giscard was asked whether Jobert's activities were "irritating or amusing." Giscard replied, "No comment," for the first and only tune at his presidential press conferences. A Giscard aide admitted that the President is simply ignoring Jobert, figuring that he will soon fade away.

That is Jobert's biggest problem. Somehow he has to keep enthusiasm up for himself and his new party until the expected legislative elections in 1978. When asked if the phenomenon can last, Jobert replied stoically: "If the movement is responding to something profound in the French people, then it will continue. If it is not, then it will soon fade away."

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