MY BRIEF POLITICAL CAREER

How complicated could it be to run a village of 300 people?  Very, as it happens and typical as everyone enjoyed pointing out - after I’d agreed to be on the mayoral candidate’s list; anyone wanting to be mayor has to gather another 10 people for her/his list in a village our size, the number varying according to the community’s population.  Not only are there 11 council members, including the mayor, but 3 of these are adjoints (deputy mayors), each of whom is paid about 200€ a month.  Keep in mind that there are about 36,000 communities in France.

Admittedly, I was honoured (flattered??) to be the first person approached AND to be asked to be the première adjointe, though what I really wanted was to help bring about environmental changes.  Knowing I had no business being first deputy mayor, I agreed to be the second.  By the way, the term for a municipal Council is a whopping 6 years - even the President is in office for only 5 years - and there are rumours that it might be extended to 7.

Squabbling began even before the elections, with three list members wanting to be the third adjoint.  As only French citizens are allowed to be mayor or adjoint, one was eliminated because she had only EU nationalité (I’ve had dual Canadian/French citizenship since December 2007).  The more dominant of the remaining two prevailed.  Interestingly, the three of them became the core of the opposition from that evening.  Even though there wasn’t a second list, there had to be elections.  In communities of fewer than 1000 inhabitants, voters can cross names off (!), so the vote numbers varied and, as not everyone had received more than 50% of the votes, there had to be a second round of voting for the entire list, after which we became the Council.

The first crisis came when the mayor insisted that his son replace the retiring employé municipal (rather like the village caretaker), bringing immediate and fierce opposition from one Council member with whom I silently agreed but, rather than publicly oppose the mayor, I attempted to convince him that, if he didn’t back down, he would incur the anger of both councillors and villagers and that, in any case, nepotism is unacceptable in 21st century France.  He assured me there would be no problem and, of course, he was wrong.  Things got worse when, carefully and discreetly goaded by the main opposing councillor, he blew up at her during a public meeting, further damaging his credibility and embarrassing me; a mayor needs intelligence and self-control.

Following increasingly unpleasant exchanges about the hiring of the new employé municipal, the mayor leapt out of his chair at a public meeting to announce that he was quitting.  I’d had more than enough of the conflict and was delighted when he asked those of us on Council who still supported him (he claimed that was my duty as an adjointe) to resign as well.  What a relief - until some idiot intending to create further havoc placed an article in our local newspaper accusing the mayor of nepotism and other bad behaviour.  In his fury, he decided to withdraw his resignation and asked the four of us to do the same.  I blew my second chance to say no and went along with him, as did the others.  What the four of us objected to most was the viciousness of the opposing councillors.  In retrospect, I know I should have disregarded his request for loyalty and maintained my resignation, but I was still hoping to exert some influence.

As it turned out - and for convoluted reasons - the mayor’s son did not get the position and affairs moved on fairly smoothly for a while, though my disillusionment grew as every request I made for change was rejected; turning off the streetlights 5-6 hours every night, ending the use of pesticides, buying benches made with recycled materials instead of new wood, organising a public meeting to explain how we could all cut down on waste disposal and what materials were recyclable, etc.

As a councillor and deputy mayor, I was on several committees and had a lot of long, usually tedious and often quarrelsome local and regional meetings to attend, as well as daily time at the Mairie (in part because the mayor spends very little time there himself), newsletters to put together and publish and announcements to write in French and English and make on the village loudspeakers.  For reasons I still don’t comprehend, several formerly friendly villagers stopped talking to me.  French friends tell me it's jealousy, typical in small villages, especially in the south - why had no one warned me before - and why would anyone agree to be on a municipal election list?!

So, when the aneurysm was diagnosed and I was sent for immediate surgery (details of that interesting experience in an earlier blog posting, called The Ides of March), the silver lining was an ironclad excuse to quit Council.  However,  the mayor needed my vote and, even as I was recuperating, asked me to stay on, saying that I wouldn’t have to go to the Mairie or attend any meetings whatsoever.  This time, it was easy to give him a definitive NON!  Knowing I was off Council and relieved of all duties was the best of healers.

Since then, two of the opposing councillors have resigned, for a total of 3 resignations and one expulsion (another convoluted story), forcing a municipal by-election that resulted in 4 new councillors, 3 of whom don’t hesitate to let the mayor know when he’s out of line.

As for me, I’m thoroughly enjoying myself, with a lot more time for Tim, cycling and walking the dogs.  We get away in our camper when we can and enjoy friends’ visits when we’re home - and I’m staying well away from the insanity of local politics.…

Post script:  Ours was the only community in the entire department of the Hérault that voted for the Front National, to our very great shame and disgust.