At a Sixteenth Arrondissement party soon after I arrived in Paris in late 1984, I was cornered by a tipsy Frenchman who repeatedly exclaimed–in a tone more resigned than angry–“You’ve won! You’ve won.”  This was all he would say, elaborations and explanations apparently being unnecessary.

Once I began to look for them, signs of American triumph were everywhere: Carl Lewis’s Olympics a few months before, Reagan’s enthusiastic re-election a few weeks before, and a sense that personal computers coming from garages in Silicon Valley would displace the tiny Minitel terminals linked to a central network for which the French had instead opted (a prescient model, but ten years before the internet could have made real use of them). After several months in Paris, I realized this handwringing was a daily theme in the Parisian press: the United States had won the economic game.

The idea was everywhere: the news detailed France’s economic crisis and America’s ascendency; top journalists and other members of the intelligentsia analyzed how France had gotten into its sad state; academics wrote books setting the crisis in world-historical context; politicians spun grandiose plans for pulling France out of its malaise. But no one took the schemes of the politicians seriously: the crisis, everyone knew, was there to stay. Thus Le Monde‘s annual report on the economic state of the world in early 1985 had on its cover a tiny boat, its sail in disarray, about to drop from the crest of a wave, and a large ocean liner placidly moving along in the distance. The dinghy flew several European flags, the steamer those of Japan and the United States.

It was not just France: the entire “old world” was implicated. It was just that: old, weary, perhaps exhausted. Many French, if it fit their current political rhetoric, were fond of pointing out that France had done better than most European countries. The French were happy that they were not the Germans, the Swiss, or even the Swedes who had beaten them this time. It was America, which is after all America, and Japan, that fascinating but incomprehensible family corporation on the other side of the world. With conquerors like these, the French launched themselves into the crisis with enthusiasm.

Today, it is the Germans again, and the French are wringing their hands harder than in 1985.The new Gallois report recommends a neoliberal response to data showing that the Germans are gaining a competitive advantage. Even faster than in 1981, a socialist President is sounding less and less socialist, with talk of more flexible labor markets and cutting state spending.

Commentators, especially Americans, make a lot of the fact that 57 percent of France’s GDP goes through the government. The Economist (17 November 2012) editorializes about “a time-bomb at the heart of Europe” and calls for Hollande to reverse “the path his country has been on for the past 30 years.” Sixty years would be more accurate, or perhaps six hundred (since some of the trends may well have begun when the French finally managed to expel the meddlesome English).

Yet, on the other hand, it turns out that the French get a lot for their tax money. I recently had the good fortune to spend two months in Paris, reminding myself why it is so many people’s favorite city. The Metro arrives every two minutes, with announcements you can understand. An entirely new network of bike lanes is being installed. Grand trees line the boulevards, and sickly ones are replaced immediately. The city’s stock of handsome buildings, many of them hundreds of years old, is constantly and expensively renovated (even though part of a good renovation is to make them look as though they have always been just so). Trash is picked up, traffic flow, and bakeries are regulated to produce the world’s best breads and pastries, reasonably priced.

The French take enormous pride in Paris, I reasoned. They pour money into its care in ways that Americans do not care for its political capital, Washington D.C., or its cultural capital, New York. In fact, most Americans detest Washington and New York, and the elites who inhabit them. New York looks good these days because the city has learned to shake down the wealthy who live there. Washington looks like hell.

But I was wrong about French pride being channeled into Paris. When my wife and I took driving trips outside Paris, I was just as impressed. The roads were perfect; signage was clear and helpful. Medieval towns and baroque chateaux that would have been crumbling in most countries were in good repair.

For decades, Americans have labeled France as “socialist.” Most Americans never leave their own country, so they can spin any kind of grim fantasies about the big-spending countries of the Old World. Stereotypes survive brief touristic visits, too. I was unpleasantly seated next to an American couple at a Paris restaurant last winter, only to listen as they acknowledged various virtues to the city, only to dismiss them with the comment, “Well, they’re socialist.” I wasn’t sure what they meant (Sarkozy?), and I didn’t want to ruin my glass of Calvados to find out, but it seemed as though no amount of good living could compensate for some state of slavery implied by socialism. It was fine to come take advantage of all that infrastructure spending, but not to admit its source, taxes.

Even serious commentators have described France’s 35-hour work week as unsustainable, its pensions as too generous, its job protections as sclerotic, its proportion of government spending at 57 percent of GDP as disastrous. What has happened in three decades of worrying?

The French work less than we do and live better. All that government spending, especially on infrastructure, makes the French the most productive work force in the world, measured per hour worked. Working fewer hours undoubtedly makes those hours worked more intense, as well. Perhaps a glass of Calvados at the end of lunch doesn’t hurt.

France has some serious problems, including youth unemployment and a large immigrant minority that is not welcomed. But these are not problems of a large government sector. In fact, who is more likely to solve them: a neoliberal, hands-off state, or a state with extensive social programs and public spending? The means of fixing these problems are there, just waiting for the will.

The French are good at economic crises.  Their national identity and pride do not rest directly on commercial prowess. They are the guardians of Western Culture, including both the Arts and, perhaps even more, the art of living well.  The French are proud of their painters and their musicians, but nothing matches their unshakable confidence in their cuisine and their oenology.  They are proud of Paris for its churches and palaces, but they believe it is the world’s greatest city because of its life and excitement.  France’s proudest achievements are in living well, and this skill is rarely, let’s face it, compatible with dealing well. Hence the French are partly proud of not being good businessmen–like Americans and Arabs–and partly resigned to this fault as a necessary accompaniment to Culture. And culture, in both upper and lower case C, is what distinguishes France from most other advanced industrial nations. But in the end, none of that is innate. It is there because of government policies, and the taxing and spending to back them up.

The weather has been absolutely spectacular this week in Paris. Clear, sunny skies, low humidity, moderate temperatures. Yesterday, Naomi and I enjoyed having lunch at the Palais-Royal and walking through the city with our friend Daniel Dayan. Each day, we have been spending time in a park with our grandson, Ludovic. Especially nice was a family excursion to the Arab Institute, where we had wonderful pastries and panoramic views of of the city from its rooftop café. Being in Paris, thinking with a European perspective about the Arab world has been my theme of the week, as I, with the help of the editorial team at Deliberately Considered, have been keeping the magazine going.

I observed in my first letter from Paris that the common action of Coptic Christians and Muslims at Tahrir Square created a new pluralistic reality in Egypt. These days, this new reality is challenged, to say the least. There are great fears that sectarian conflict will rule the day in Egypt and in the region, as was reported in Tuesday’s New York Times. According to this report, a clause in the constitution formally identifying Egypt as a Muslim country deriving its laws from Islam, passed during the era of Anwar Sadat, and laws dating back to the late colonial era that stipulate specific restrictions on and privileges for the Coptic church have inflamed tensions. There is a marked increase in sectarian violence, with wild stories about abduction of Muslims, even reported in a historically liberal newspaper. These are very serious matters.

Formal political measures to address these issues are urgently needed. An idea floating that a Bill of Rights ought to be established as a precondition of electoral politics, as advocated by Mohamed El Barade, makes considerable sense. But just as important are indications that the power of definition, what I call the politics of small things, is being marshaled to combat dangerous anti-democratic developments.

A Copt (left) and a Salafi Muslim (right) debate politics and the revolution in Tahrir Square during a break from cleanup efforts, Feb 12, 2011 © Sherif9282 | Wikimedia Commons

There was also a minor subplot in the Times story. As the new political configuration is emerging, competing political parties are acting in interesting “opportunistic” ways. The Muslim Brotherhood is proving to be the powerful political force and is working to consolidate its power. Yet, it continues to be self-limiting. (Poland’s great democratic transformation was often referred to as a self-limiting revolution). Not only is it indicating that it will not present a Presidential candidate, it is contesting only a half of the Parliamentary seats. It purposively couches its Islamic project in terms that are supportive of liberal democracy. A prominent leader of the Party, Essam el-Erian maintains: “We are calling for a civil state,” promoting elements of Islamic law that are common to other world religions, including, “freedom of worship and faith, equality between people, and human rights and human dignity.” Further, the Brotherhood named a Christian a deputy leader of its political party.

Meanwhile, Christian and secular liberal parties are not directly seeking changes to the article in the constitution that recognizes Egypt as a Muslim nation with laws based on Islam. While individuals may privately dislike the article, they recognize its popularity among Muslims and the parties minimally propose only minor changes.

“Our position is that it should stay, but a clause should be added so that in personal issues non-Muslims are subject to the rules of their own religion,’ Naguib Sawiris, a secularly oriented, wealthy, Christian businessman who has established a liberal party. He would prefer the separation between religion and state in accord with Western customs, but realizes that this is now impossible given Egyptian realities.

The Brotherhood’s gestures to liberal democratic values, and the liberal and Christian gestures recognizing Egypt as a Muslim nation, may be simply a matter of cynical political calculation, meant to convince the naïve that the Brotherhood does not pose the threat about which skeptics are most concerned, concealing the Brotherhood’s potential long term complicity in the disturbing anti-Christian actions and attitudes that are on the rise in Egypt, very much a part of the sectarian strife of the region. And the Christian and liberal acceptance of the idea of Egypt as a Muslim nation may simply be a rather desperate necessary, political calculation to maintain viability against an Islamist tide. I am sure such concerns are warranted.

But, I believe something more important is going on, as well, that is supporting the prospects for democracy in Egypt, with clear parallels to the development of democracy in Poland. Real pro-democratic Christians, liberals and Muslims together are muddling through a common definition of their society as one with pluralism and with majority and minority rights. There is a struggle against powerful currents of hatred, fears and suspicions, and major political actors are presenting themselves as moving in this direction. They may not succeed, but it is important to notice that this movement is happening. Given the nature of belief in Egypt, there could be no democracy without the inclusion of Islam in its politics (think of the Turkish experience). Given the richness of the Islamic tradition, there is reason to think that this move is possible, even if not likely.

Democrats of all sorts have skin in this game, as Michael Corey would put it. He suggests, in his latest post, that when I put it this way we should ask: What is being asked by whom, and for what purposes? I think the purposes are pretty clear. A liberal democratic peaceful North Africa and the Middle East would be safer, more prosperous and more just place, and this would contribute to greater safety, prosperity and justice beyond the region. The people asking are those who are most clearly dedicated to human rights, liberal democracy and an open society. And what is being asked is generally minimal, perhaps some economic aid, but mostly a commitment to discontinue the support of repressive force. Minimal support, getting out of the way, engaging in serious dialogue on the basis of shared principles.

One final note about his week on Chris Eberhardt’s post on China: It also reminded me of Poland past. His notion of China as a kind of “Truman Show” resembles the “Poland Show” in which I used to live and visit, although I think the “China Show” is a much more subtle game. Key to the unreality aspect of these real reality shows, i.e. Communist Party directed and controlled societies, is the distance between the official language, which was necessary to get on with public responsibilities, and the language of everyday experience.  More about this when I get back home.

I feel as if I am following President Obama’s itinerary through Europe. For me, it started with a quick stopover in Dublin on my way to Paris. My wife and I will spend more time in Dublin next week, where she will explore her father’s hometown for the first time. Naomi is one of a rare breed, an Irish Jew. Her family spent a generation there between Latvia and Canada. We are even going to be looking for a long lost elderly cousin. Later this summer, I will be off to Poland, on my annual teaching stint in The New School’s summer Democracy and Diversity Institute. These coincidences (I was also in London a few months ago) and returns come to mind because, as with Obama, my stay in Europe this time is stimulating me to think not only about European matters, but also about North Africa and the Middle East from the point of view of European experience.

During his stay in Poland, the President met with former leaders of the democratic opposition and Solidarity movement, and noted that what Poland went through twenty-five years ago proves that the move from an authoritarian regime to a democratic one is quite possible, though also quite difficult. He spoke as a political leader wanting to position America and its allies together in support of the Arab Spring. He emphasized institution building, the rights of minorities and a free press. I don’t disagree with him, and I should add as an old Polish hand, it warms my heart to see my friends being used as an example of political success.

Yet, democratic consolidation is not completely achieved in Poland and among its neighbors, and there is always a threat, as has been observed here in Andras Bozoki’s report on the situation in Hungary, that a transition to democracy may be followed by a transition from democracy. This depends upon attitudes and shared beliefs of the citizenry.

Mourners in front of the Presidential Palace in Warsaw after Smolensk plane crash. Sign says "What a President. What a Patriot." © Sebk | Wikimedia Commons

In Poland, the demonstrators who were outside President Obama’s appearances represent an anti-democratic threat. They are sure that the Russians are complicit in the murder of the former President of Poland, Lech Kaczynski, who died in airplane crash, and many of them are pretty sure that the present President, Bronislaw Komorowski, is somehow involved. Such conspiracy theories, in which political opponents are perceived as murderous enemies, undermine democratic life. These demonstrators resemble the more outrageous members of the Tea Party and are kissing cousins of the birthers.  Such agents are more dangerous in new democracies than old, more dangerous still in the nations of the Middle East and North Africa trying to form democracies. Even in well-established countries such as the US, people who approach politics in this way present serious problems. No big deal, if they remain on the margins, but when they enter or even define the mainstream, they pose a significant threat.

Thus, when I think about Poland, Egypt, Tunisia and their neighbors, I am concerned not only about democracy as a political system, with a democratic constitution and institutions. It seems to me that just as important is democracy as a matter of ongoing political practice and beliefs. This is one of the great achievements in Poland, which changed its political culture in the course of the making of a democratic opposition, the Solidarity movement, and a democratic state, helping it weather anti-democratic currents. This suggests possibilities among the perils now present in the Middle East and North Africa.

In Poland, during the Solidarity period (and even before), the oppositionists acted as if they lived in a free society, and in the process, freedom actually became a part of the life of the people involved. They showed how the sociological theorem of the definition of a situation, as first developed by W. I. Thomas, constitutes a crucial dimension of political power. “If men [and women] define situations as real, they are real in their consequences.”

The demonstrators in Tahrir Square revealed this power as well. When Muslims and Coptics openly supported each other during the transformational events, they constituted Egyptian democratic pluralism. Their common action created a political reality, which I will analyze in my next post.

I am thinking about such things, as I follow the path of Obama. The world looks differently from the summit and from the ground. A major end of his trip here this time was to help galvanize support for his approach to the great potentially democratic transformations in North Africa and the Middle East, while also attempting to get the European powers to support the U.S. in its opposition to the UN resolution recognizing Palestinian statehood. In his words and actions in Poland, he attempted to underline the possibility of fundamental democratic change and its persistence. From my point of view, looking at democracy in everyday practice, I see that his high-flown rhetoric can and has been sustained, but also that it depends on the definition and redefinition of democratic realities as social practices. Democracy in the Middle East and North Africa, and in Central Europe, confirms fundamental insights of Tocqueville, as he was looking at democracy in America.