FEATURES
Sarkozy, the Victor, or What I Did When I Became President Elect
/ Devon Magee
05.13.07
“And the winner is: 5, 4, 3, 2, 1… Nicolas Sarkozy!”
It’s 8 p.m. sharp on Sunday, May 6, and TF1’s Claire Chazal (France’s Katie Couric; her topless image graced French tabloid magazine covers last summer) and Patrick Poivre d’Arvor (France’s Dan Rather; and also the real life model of the marionette anchor on Les Guignols, the very popular and hilarious puppet news show) announce Mr. Sarkozy’s victory—53 percent of the vote versus Segolène Royal’s 47—in a dramatic countdown from ten. Miss Royal is the first to take the mic. Despite her defeat, she is ever-smiling, and, as she pronounces her discourse, she is calm and succinct. “I have given all of my force…. I want to thank all of the activists that have helped create this great democratic moment.”
Let the Party Begin
30,000 Sarkozists follow the results on giant screens set up at the Place de la Concorde, the massive plaza (the second largest in all of France) in the 8th arrondissement; also ex-home of the guillotine during the French Revolution—over 1000 decapitated, including Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. The crowd jeers at Miss Royal’s image and suddenly goes silent as their vanquisher appears on screen and addresses France for the first time as President-elect. Once a controversial, temperamental character among some, tonight he is open armed and magnanimous, embodying his campaign mantra, “Together, everything is possible.”
“I will be the President of all the French; I will speak for every one of them…. I call all the French, regardless of their party, beliefs, and origins to unite with me so that France will begin moving," he says. "Vive la République et vive la France!” In the back seat of a black Mercedes, Mr. Sarkozy is lead down the rue de la Boétie toward the Champs Elysées. Police motorcycles surround his car while the curious public and paparazzi on mopeds swerve toward his open window, where Mr. Sarkozy’s protruding hand is waving at them. First, a quick stop at Fouquet’s, the ultra-flash hotel/restaurant on the corner of George V and the Champs. Anxious, trembling magnums of Dom Perignon and La Grande Dame pop at his arrival, the President-elect quenches the thirst of ultimate victory after an exhausting campaign. But not so; Mr. Sarkozy is not a drinking man. Instead, a quick hello to his proches, like French rocker Johnny Hallyday. Onward, finally, to the Place de la Concorde, where his myriad supporters await, entertained in the interim by on-stage Faudel, the French pop star. At eleven o’clock, Mr. Sarkozy stands next to him. He thanks the “artists” that have supported him. The aged Mireille Mathieu steals the mic and kicks off La Marsellaise, rolling R’s in a scratchy voice. She is followed by an open mic: a cappella performances by other celebrities (including the American, Jane Manson). Mr. Sarkozy admires and keeps rhythm with the clapping of his hands. And he is gone.
It’s 8 p.m. sharp on Sunday, May 6, and TF1’s Claire Chazal (France’s Katie Couric; her topless image graced French tabloid magazine covers last summer) and Patrick Poivre d’Arvor (France’s Dan Rather; and also the real life model of the marionette anchor on Les Guignols, the very popular and hilarious puppet news show) announce Mr. Sarkozy’s victory—53 percent of the vote versus Segolène Royal’s 47—in a dramatic countdown from ten. Miss Royal is the first to take the mic. Despite her defeat, she is ever-smiling, and, as she pronounces her discourse, she is calm and succinct. “I have given all of my force…. I want to thank all of the activists that have helped create this great democratic moment.”
Let the Party Begin
30,000 Sarkozists follow the results on giant screens set up at the Place de la Concorde, the massive plaza (the second largest in all of France) in the 8th arrondissement; also ex-home of the guillotine during the French Revolution—over 1000 decapitated, including Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette. The crowd jeers at Miss Royal’s image and suddenly goes silent as their vanquisher appears on screen and addresses France for the first time as President-elect. Once a controversial, temperamental character among some, tonight he is open armed and magnanimous, embodying his campaign mantra, “Together, everything is possible.”
“I will be the President of all the French; I will speak for every one of them…. I call all the French, regardless of their party, beliefs, and origins to unite with me so that France will begin moving," he says. "Vive la République et vive la France!” In the back seat of a black Mercedes, Mr. Sarkozy is lead down the rue de la Boétie toward the Champs Elysées. Police motorcycles surround his car while the curious public and paparazzi on mopeds swerve toward his open window, where Mr. Sarkozy’s protruding hand is waving at them. First, a quick stop at Fouquet’s, the ultra-flash hotel/restaurant on the corner of George V and the Champs. Anxious, trembling magnums of Dom Perignon and La Grande Dame pop at his arrival, the President-elect quenches the thirst of ultimate victory after an exhausting campaign. But not so; Mr. Sarkozy is not a drinking man. Instead, a quick hello to his proches, like French rocker Johnny Hallyday. Onward, finally, to the Place de la Concorde, where his myriad supporters await, entertained in the interim by on-stage Faudel, the French pop star. At eleven o’clock, Mr. Sarkozy stands next to him. He thanks the “artists” that have supported him. The aged Mireille Mathieu steals the mic and kicks off La Marsellaise, rolling R’s in a scratchy voice. She is followed by an open mic: a cappella performances by other celebrities (including the American, Jane Manson). Mr. Sarkozy admires and keeps rhythm with the clapping of his hands. And he is gone.