WHAT ever happened to la grandeur? For ten years France appeared on the world scene like a golden phoenix miraculously resuscitated from the ashes of the Fourth Republic, the agony of the Algerian war, and the long shame of the Vichy collaboration with Hitler. The man who accomplished this miracle of recovery was Charles de Gaulle, who in 1958 took over a nation with a mere $19 million left in its treasury and even less moral credit around the world. He restored both the franc and France's prestige. He also restored French pride: even casual visitors in the years after his takeover noticed a new French self-confidence that contrasted with the half-apologetic, half-arrogant attitude often found before. Until a few weeks ago, and despite an occasional flicker of trouble, De Gaulle ruled a France enviably serene and stable, seemingly the very model of a modern nation working toward a new destiny.
No matter to most Frenchman that abroad, De Gaulle kept Britain out of Europe, did his annoying best to thwart the U.S., meddled in Quebec and increasingly behaved like a cantankerous old man. There is a little of Napoleon in every French breast, and the nation took a certain pride in De Gaulle's ability to command far more attention for France than its power and resources deserved.
But there is also a little of the cynical, skeptical Voltaire in the Frenchman—and a lot of the stubborn, even violent individualist. Smug paternalism at home did not wear nearly so well as posturing abroad. The Gaullist panoply gradually began to enshadow and constrict every aspect of French life, from politics to morals, painting to fashion. The rhythm of French existence perceptibly altered. Hints of ennui crept in—and boredom has always been underrated as a revolutionary force. Paris was no longer the most richly alive city in Europe. Looking beneath the glittering surface of Gaullist France as long as two years ago, Yale Professor Henri Peyre, an astute France-watcher, sensed that the French, after "a prolonged seven-year itch," were "feeling nostalgic for some turbulence."
Much of what ailed Gaullist France was economic. Under De Gaulle, the gross national product has more than doubled, from $49 billion in 1958 to about $108 billion in 1967—at the cost of much stress. De Gaulle hoarded gold, attacked the dollar, and did his best to keep the franc invulnerable. The nation's growth rate, which had climbed above 7% in the early 1960s, last year sank to about 3.5%. Consumer prices have shot up 39% since 1958 v. only 18% for the U.S. For a while, the workers shared in the fruits of Gaullism, and many bought their first small cars and TVs. But the costs of De Gaulle's global policies mounted. The force de frappe alone, a dubious deterrent, required more than $2 billion a year. Not enough was left for the workers, whose wages lagged behind those in every other Common Market country except Italy. To add to the pinch, De Gaulle increased social security payments and cut benefits last summer to cover his budget deficit.