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Seven former Premiers and Presidents of the Fourth Republic stood bareheaded in Le Havre last week at the funeral of René Coty, the last President of that era. But it was Charles de Gaulle, the man of the Fifth Republic, who stepped forward to deliver the eulogy. He clearly intended it also to be a funeral oration for the Fourth Republic. Praising Coty's "breadth of vision and good sense," President de Gaulle turned with bitter words to the old "regime, paralyzed by its own confusion," and its leaders, "who failed through impotence."
He spoke for France. Only two days earlier, in elections to the National Assembly, 6,165,000 Frenchmen overwhelmingly repudiated the irresponsible political system that for twelve years condemned the nation to perpetual crisis. They did so by giving De Gaulle's candidates the parliamentary majority that has eluded every other party in French history. The election came close to annihilating the old, bickering party blocs. The voters also entrusted De Gaulle with sweeping personal powers such as no other ruler of France has wielded since Louis Napoleon. For France, five years of stable government seemed assured. More than that, a new spirit of unity and self-confidence had asserted itself in the nation that for so long had been the sick man of Europe.
Back on the Rails. Thus the election was more than a momentous turn in French politics. Its impact would be felt on both sides of the Atlantic, for a strong France is vital to the entire Western alliance. But the massive endorsement of De Gaulle also stirred misgivings. For, asked Western statesmen, if he had been a cantankerous, willful ally at the head of a divided nation, what headaches were in store now that Charles de Gaulle was the absolute leader of a united France? He had often repudiated NATO commitments, brusquely disavowed the West's attempts to negotiate a Berlin settlement with Russia, pooh-poohed every attempt to reach agreement on disarmament, and, despite the entreaties of his allies, pushed stubbornly ahead with his force de frappe, a nuclear deterrent that had neither present logic nor present value in Western defense planning save as the core of an independent European deterrent—and De Gaulle had yet to suggest that he would welcome other fingers on the trigger.
In victory, De Gaulle himself was as jubilant as if his horse had come in first at Longchamps. "Now," he declared triumphantly, "we can put France back on the rails." To his ministers, he exulted, "I set out to break the parties. I alone could do it, and believed it could be done at the moment I chose. I was right, despite everyone." Few in his political party, the Union for a New Republic (U.N.R.)—or in all France, for that matter—had shared his view of the outcome. Only four weeks before, the national referendum on De Gaulle's proposals for popular election of future Presidents gave le grand Charles a bare majority, with no competing parties in the field. On the basis of those results, almost all the pundits doubted that De Gaulle could even hold his existing parliamentary strength in the big elections for the National Assembly.