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The accused have seen their once promising careers seriously damaged, and Dufoix is out of politics altogether, but all three have consistently denied their guilt. In the closest thing to a catch phrase the scandal has produced, Dufoix said on TV that she was 'responsible, not culpable' -- an infuriating bit of semantic hair-splitting that has become the French equivalent of "that depends what you mean by 'is.'"
But for all the justifiable outrage, there is a sense that punishing these three will be a hollow victory. Bureaucratic inertia was hardly their exclusive province, and this was 1985, after all -- the dawn of awareness about AIDS, when very little was known about the nascent epidemic and its causes. Even those who feel that someone should take responsibility must acknowledge how easy hindsight makes this seem.
In a sense too, the accused are victims of France's successes. French doctor Luc Montagnier's role in the discovery of the AIDS virus in 1983 -- a distinction he shares with the American Robert Gallo -- put France at the cutting edge of research into the frightening new medical phenomenon. But that edge cuts both ways, and as a country that had dramatically advanced the world's knowledge of AIDS, France would have been expected to be equally forward-looking about prevention.
But such measures were tragically slow in coming, for reasons ranging from inefficiency to willful disregard of human life, depending on whom you believe. Adding to the public's cynicism about politicians, presiding judge Christian Le Gunehec appeared to favor the defendants. Indeed, their unique status as former public officials -- who are constitutionally protected from prosecution for their acts while in office -- has resulted in the appointment of a special jury composed of three judges and 12 legislators. It will be their unenviable task to pronounce judgment in a case where there are already only losers.