EIGHTEENTH century France bequeathed to the modern world the concepts of revolution and popular democracy—and last week the French seemed bent on perilously trying to practice both at the same time. As the campaign to elect a new National Assembly got underway, rioting and violence erupted anew in cities throughout France. For a while it looked as though the explosion of police concussion and tear-gas grenades might blot out the appeals for votes by the 2,260 candidates running on broadly diverse platforms in Metropolitan France's 470 electoral districts (see box).
Heavy Toll. After eight days of relative calm, violence flared afresh when a 17-year-old boy, fleeing from police in a town outside Paris, jumped into the Seine and drowned. Enraged, Paris students surged from the Sorbonne and the coffee shops back onto the boulevards, rebuilt barricades and fought an all-night running battle with police. Fighting also erupted in Toulouse, Lyon, St.-Nazaire and the automaking town of Sochaux, where two townspeople were killed. The renewed rioting took a heavy toll of the French economy, stalling the back-to-work movement at a time when 500,000 workers still had not returned to their plants. In his new role as Finance Minister, Maurice Couve de Murville conceded that France not only faced a budgetary deficit of $2 billion this year but might also be forced to sell some of its $5 billion gold reserves in order to meet a looming gap in its balance of payments. It all meant, explained Foreign Minister Michel Debré, that (Quelle horreur!) France would have to cut back on De Gaulle's prized nuclear strike force.
Seeking to head off a recurrence of full-scale civil disorders, Charles de Gaulle cracked down hard. After conferring with his ministers, he banned eleven student revolutionary groups, barred street demonstrations for the duration of the campaign, and ordered the expulsion of troublemaking foreigners; 154 have so far been deported. Climaxing the drive, police even invaded the historic Odeon theater, which had served as a revolutionary sanctuary since May 15. Dislodging the occupying students, who put up no fight, the police then tore down the red and black flags that flew over the old building, replacing them with three Tricolors.
Communist Tactics. The violence may well be the determining factor in the elections, which will be held in two rounds, the first balloting to take place on June 23, with the runoff elections on June 30. There are no foreign policy issues involved. Though there are some economic worries, the overriding immediate issue is simply who can best maintain order in France, and then, in the long run, solve the antagonisms and grievances that have been exposed in recent weeks. Fearing that De Gaulle will benefit from a backlash law-and-order vote, the Communists have redoubled their efforts to cool the situation. "Every time somebody gets socked, it's worth at least 100 and perhaps 1,000 votes to the Gaullists," said one ranking French Communist. To counter this, the Communists sought to project themselves as a patriotic party of moderation. "We are not adventurers!" cried Party Boss Waldeck Rochet. In the worst moments of the revolt, he claimed with some justification, it was the Communists who had "barred the road to bloody adventure." His appeal: "For peace and national independence, vote Communist."