The French press had a field day after Emmanuel Macron held a 40th birthday bash last weekend on the grounds of the Château Chambord, a 16th century castle built for a Renaissance king. But what might have seemed like a risky move for a rookie French President who often gets accused of acting like a monarch only underscored how secure Mr. Macron is with himself – and in his job.
Mr. Macron, who officially turns 40 today, swept to power in May despite (or because of) breaking all the rules of French politics. But he quickly saw his popularity plummet as voters discovered their new President's authoritarian streak and revolutionary plans for transforming their country into a lean and mean productivity machine. By late summer, Mr. Macron's approval rating had been cut in half. And that was before he pressed ahead with labour reforms that previous presidents had promised only to change their minds in the face of protest.
Mr. Macron's two immediate predecessors followed a similar hero-to-zero trajectory during their first year in office. But while Nicolas Sarkozy and François Hollande never recovered from their early fall from grace, resulting in the failed presidencies of both, Mr. Macron has made a spectacular recovery in public opinion owing largely to a feeling among French voters that the new boss is not anything like the old ones. There is no problem he seems unwilling to tackle, no matter how badly those who came before him got burned trying.
For that, at least, voters are willing to give Mr. Macron the benefit of the doubt. In only his second major television interview since taking office, a highly stage-managed affair broadcast Sunday on the main public network France 2, the President warned it would take two years before the impact of his labour reforms start bringing down the unemployment rate, which remains stubbornly high, holding steady above 9 per cent.
But the very fact that Mr. Macron succeeded in pushing through the reforms, defying threats of paralyzing strikes by leading trade unions and leftist politicians, has won the President the jaw-dropping admiration of France watchers at home and abroad. The Economist just named France as its country of the year. And in a country where pessimism is the national sport, optimism is suddenly giving it a run for its money.
Skeptics, including this one, who feared that Mr. Macron might just be the latest in a recent string of young, image-conscious leaders long on style but short on substance, have been relieved. Not only is Mr. Macron as erudite as his speeches suggest, with a depth of knowledge of history, economics and international affairs that far surpasses that of most heads of government we know, he has also emerged as Europe's dominant leader, as domestic politics hamstrings Germany's faltering Angela Merkel and Britain recedes into isolationism.
And he has no plans of stopping there. His recent move to mediate between Saudi Arabia's Prince Mohammed bin Salman and Lebanese Prime Minister Saad Hariri to smooth the latter's return home from Riyadh hinted at Mr. Macron's global ambitions. If the Paris accord on climate change is to yield meaningful results, it will be in large part because of the French President's determination to make it a success, essentially appointing himself as its enforcer.
He also aims to lead a peace process in Syria once the Islamic State has been decisively defeated, which he insists will happen by February. Given the void in world leadership on Syria, this is gutsy. While he is realistic enough to recognize there can be no peace without talking to Bashar al-Assad, he also insists the Syrian President must ultimately answer for his war crimes.
Mr. Macron's opponents at home have been left flat-footed by the President's utter domination of domestic politics. It has hardly gone unnoticed by pollsters that Mr. Macron earns his highest approval rating (70 per cent) among voters who describe themselves as being right of centre. Not bad for a former Socialist widely portrayed during the campaign as a centre-left politician.
Not surprisingly, civil war has broken out in France's main centre-right opposition party, Les Républicains. Several prominent members quit the party this month after members chose Laurent Wauquiez, a strident conservative with a tough-on-immigration platform, as its president. The far-right National Front risks imploding as it, too, becomes embroiled in internecine warfare, while the Socialist Party and far-left France Unbowed move increasingly to the fringes.
At only 40, France's youngest President to date may just be unstoppable.
Konrad Yakabuski