The French Way (8 page)

To be sure, competition with the United States was not the only, and probably not even the principal, reason for French mismanagement of the AIDS epidemic in 1984-85. There were several problems, such as the complicated administrative hierarchy that obscured responsibility, generated turf battles, and compartmentalized information; the concern over budgets and financial losses; the illusion of a pure national blood supply; the uncertainty among medical experts about the infection and its treatment; and the monopoly of imports that prevented access to foreign suppliers by transfusion centers as well as some incompetence and moral obtuseness. Nevertheless, the Americans offered an alternative in the way of screening tests and heated products that the French spurned; here is where the rivalry turned into tragedy.

The introduction of safeguards like mandatory testing did not end the quarrel over patents. In 1985 the Pasteur Institute sued the U.S. government: the French insisted on recognition of the institute's claim to the discovery of HIV and the right both to sell its tests in the U.S. market and its share of royalties from the American tests.
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At this point the world market for screening AIDS was valued at $150 million per year. The Pasteur Institute also tried to burnish its reputation by introducing a trial drug in 1985 that seemed to have some success in halting the infection. AIDS victims from all over the world, including Americans like the actor Rock Hudson, flew to France for treatment. For a moment France seemed to have regained the lead in the search to contain the epidemic. Nevertheless, the quarrel continued. It was only in 1987
that the transatlantic dispute was settled, but it required intervention at the highest level of government. Once the Montagnier and Gallo research teams had reached an agreement about their respective roles, President Reagan and Prime Minister Chirac officially resolved the issue by meeting in Washington, D.C., and declaring both the United States and France shared in the discovery of HIV and that they would divide patent rights.

Even the Chirac-Reagan agreement did not end the controversy. There were further inquiries in the United States into Dr. Gallo's research methods, and in 1991 the French realized they were facing a major medical and political scandal. Investigators charged that government officials and their medical advisers knowingly continued to distribute contaminated blood products in 1985. Trials in 1992 and again in 1998-99 ended in jail sentences for several of the leading participants, including Dr. Garretta; a suspended sentence for others like Jacques Roux; reprimands for officials in the ministries; and acquittals for others, including Prime Minister Fabius on the more serious charge of “complicity in poisoning.” President Mitterrand's role in the scandal remains a mystery. At the root it was French and American competition for medical prestige and lucrative markets. It was one of the most shameful chapters in this narrative.

What one day may be construed as the grand finale to this story came in 2008 when Dr. Montagnier and his fellow virologist Française Barre-Sinoussi shared the Nobel Prize in Medicine for discovering HIV. Dr. Gallo was passed over, though Dr. Montagnier stated the American was equally deserving of the award. Some experts continued to believe that the French and American teams deserved to be honored as codiscoverers.
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As the presidential election approached in the autumn of 1988 the French used the juncture once again to assess Ronald Reagan—and America. The stock of the “great communicator” fell from its peak four years earlier because of his troubles in the Middle East—especially
the fiasco surrounding Iran, shortcomings in his domestic policy, and the rise of a new star in the East, Mikhail Gorbachev. But the actorturned-president was still popular. There was considerable admiration, especially on the right, for Reagan. “Who have been the two greatest presidents of the United States since the war?” one French survey asked. John F. Kennedy, who had achieved legendary status in France by then, was selected first. In a virtual tie for runner-up, though far behind JFK, were Ronald Reagan and Dwight D. Eisenhower. Even farther behind were Richard Nixon, Jimmy Carter, and Harry Truman.
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Reagan was less of a pop hero in 1988 than he had been because he had to share center stage as peacemaker with Gorbachev. When asked to name the two most important statesmen of the 1980s, the French placed Mitterrand and Gorbachev at the top, followed by Thatcher; Reagan finished fourth.
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Other questions that compared the United States and the Soviet Union as peacemakers or advocates of arms control showed that Gorbachev had closed the gap that existed before he came to power in Moscow.
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The press tended to credit Reagan with adopting a more vigorous stance in international affairs, especially for negotiating with the Soviets from a position of strength, but journalists also detailed his setbacks in foreign policy, like the forced retreat from Lebanon, the misguided interventions in Central America, the fantasy of the “Star Wars” defense plan, and the scandal over trading arms for hostages with Iran.

In domestic affairs Reagan received mediocre grades as manager of the American economy. “Was the presidency of Ronald Reagan in economic affairs more or less a success ?” was the question. In 1988 slightly more than one-third of those surveyed thought him rather successful, but 44 percent said he was neither a success nor a failure or they had no opinion. What is apparent, and more important for long-term trends, was the emergence in the media of an indictment of American society. By 1988, at least according to the press, Reagan was leaving America in a sorry mess. Readers' attention was drawn to the spending cuts mandated by the Republicans in social programs like public
health, education, and child care. A collage composed of the homeless, poverty, drugs, and crime presented a grim picture of American cities.
Le Monde
tried to show both sides of the Reagan legacy, crediting him with ending the pessimism of the 1970s, spurring economic growth, stemming inflation, and creating jobs, but also exposing his legacy of social inequality, indifference to the underprivileged, “colossal” budget deficits, and urban decay.
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A more sympathetic paper like
Le Figaro
regretted that Reagan had done nothing to help the three million U.S. homeless.
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A leading business review, which had once embraced Reaganomics, now drew a vivid contrast between a country in full expansion yet burdened with huge deficits, concluding that Reagan's legacy was an economy “rejuvenated but ruined.”
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One weekly, referring to the budget deficits, declared “the party's over” and that Reagan's successor would have his hands tied in addressing social issues like alleviating poverty.
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Despite attacks on the federal government, the press pointed out, bureaucracy had grown. Despite promise of a moral renewal, the Reagan administration had been racked by scandals. More than one journal either labeled the Reagan administration as “corrupt,” listing scandals and dwelling on “Irangate,” or at least criticized the Republican White House for failing to deliver on its promise of moral rectitude.
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In 1988 the media were ahead of the public in perceiving America's social problems. The social critique that would dominate French opinion in the 1990s was already apparent, at least in the media, because of the stern social policies associated with eight years of Ronald Reagan.

The U.S. presidential election of 1988 itself did not elicit much interest in France. Had the French been able to participate, they would have “voted” by a small margin for George H. W. Bush rather than Michael Dukakis (24 to 19 percent), but more than half had no opinion. The press that supported the Republican candidate praised Bush for his wide experience in international affairs and his pragmatic approach, contrasting him with the more ideological and less reliable Reagan.
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In fact, President Bush was going to surpass Reagan in Gallic esteem.

The year 1988 recorded the most favorable postwar poll for America.
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Queried about their overall impression of the United States, 54 percent in France said they were sympathetic, and a meager 6 percent registered their antipathy (while one-third said neither one nor the other). The vocabulary most often associated with the United States was one of
power, dynamism, wealth
, and
liberty.
Only one-fourth of those surveyed cited violence, racism, or social inequality.
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Over half dismissed the economic influence of the United States on France. But there were some shadows. Respondents continued to disapprove strongly of Reagan's economic policies, and American culture—referring mainly to television programming, cinema, and music—seemed excessive to a majority. America set a good example for free enterprise, the media, political institutions, and education, but less so for its treatment of minorities.
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As an economic model, Reagan's America won the attention of many in France but failed to win many adherents. The socialists went so far as to make a pilgrimage to Silicon Valley, study American economic practices, consult American officials, and endorse entrepreneurship and private enterprise, yet in the end Mitterrand and his ministers rejected any transfer of Reaganomics as a betrayal of their socialist mission and republican principles. At the same time left-wing editorialists ridiculed the accomplishments of Reaganomics and exposed the deceptions and social costs. The right-wing press was more laudatory, and there were even a few true believers among economists, businesspeople, and politicians, but they were never in charge of policy. During the brief liberal moment when Jacques Chirac was prime minister (1986-88), the cohort of Americanized liberals remained marginalized and the dominant party of Gaullists, led by Chirac and Edouard Balladur, designed their own version of market reforms without ever subscribing, or even paying much attention, to Reagan's policies. The public, much like the political elite, found little merit in transporting American practices across the Atlantic. Reagan may have been more popular than his predecessors,
but his appeal did not translate into enthusiasm for his policies. In the end, French ideals of Republican solidarity informed both left and right and insulated the French public against adopting either free-market principles or the tough social policies associated with the Reagan administration. Reagan's version of the American model was not for the French.

In retrospect the rosy glow that radiated across the Atlantic during the 1980s was fleeting, and it also concealed much. It is erroneous to conceptualize the decade as some halcyon past. There was a Reagan “bubble,” a brief period when Paris and Washington, D.C., became anxious about a renewed Soviet threat and America's economic prosperity made the United States seem admirable. But the bubble dissipated quickly and the more typical pattern of bickering and competition emerged. The good feelings of the middle years of the Reagan/Mitterrand relationship obscured an unrelenting and disruptive transatlantic rivalry—a rivalry felt more keenly by the French than by the Americans. It informed the two nations' economic and social policies and even the two medical communities—in the case of combating HIV, acting as competitors rather than partners—with tragic consequences.

The government of Laurent Fabius during the mid-1980s illustrates the underlying rivalry. Fabius may have endorsed American-style entrepreneurship and sought to emulate Silicon Valley, but only to serve his socialist agenda; he courted the Walt Disney Company to win the theme park from other Europeans; he permitted shameful practices during the AIDS epidemic rather than turn to American medical companies; and when Reagan faltered, he attacked Reaganomics. He remained a French socialist despite his Brooks Brothers shirts.

The rivalry that emerged over economic policy and the HIV contagion also surfaced in cultural affairs. The socialists attempted to ward off what was labeled as “American cultural imperialism,” and this effort ignited a lively dispute over anti-Americanism—a dispute that exposed a significant trend among French intellectuals. These controversies are the subject of the next chapter.