Any Answer to Catholic Popular Religion?
The Forgotten Giscard
William Edgar
Among the losses in 2020 that may have escaped our radar is the death of Valéry Giscard-d’Estaing. VGE, as he became known, likely succumbed to Covid 19 at the age of 94. His long, public career included being President of France (1974-1981). His friend, Franz-Olivier Giesbert, editor-in-chief of Le Point, told readers that VGE could be summarized with one word: l’incompris (the misunderstood one).
Almost inevitably French leaders, dating back to its kings, had to live within a paradox. French people require their leaders to be both aloof and understanding. In modern times this enigma remains sharp. Charles De Gaulle famously quipped, how can anyone govern a country with some 246 different cheeses? He ruled, indeed, from a high perch. So did his successor Georges Pompidou. As did his successor the Socialist François Mitterrand. VGE had all the makings of an aloof ruler but fought against this image throughout his career. He came from one of the most distinguished families of France; he graduated with high honors from the very best schools; he represented the center-right. His father obtained the privilege of calling his family “d’Estaing” a sign of nobility. (An ancestry going at least as far back as the distinguished Count, Jean Baptiste C. H. H. d’Estaing (1729-1794), who among other accomplishments led in a blockage against the British at Sandy Hook, New Jersey.) He even spoke with a cultivated upper-class lisp! At the same time, he sought more than any of his predecessors to modernize France. To do that he needed diplomatically to pull away from Charles De Gaulle, who had been unable to respond to the crisis of mai ’68 wherein so many French institutions were put into question and revolution was so close at hand. He also had to square off with Georges Pompidou, under whom he served as Finance Minister.
How did he go about modernizing the country? Some of the smaller, yet symbolic, ways include inviting the garbage collectors of Paris to a leisurely breakfast for a show of friendship and also in hopes of conversations which would better help him to understand the working man’s issues. French Presidents don’t do that! He also chose not to live in the Elysée Palace, but in the humble residence of Eugénie, Empress under Napoleon III. On a larger scale, he balanced the budget, no small accomplishment in hard times. He lowered the voting age from 21 to 18, which may have cost him the next election, as young people are typically left leaning. His most ambitious endeavor was to foster the construction of Europe. After the cruelties imposed by the Nazis, the memories of which were still fresh in people’s minds, he showed considerable courage in working on the European Community with the Germans, a project which he believed would carry France onto the world platform.
Where was he spiritually? His early education was in parochial schools. He was married in the Church. Yet as a political leader his relations to the Vatican were cordial at best. He would not identify France with the Catholic Church except in formal ways. Or is that all there is to it? Two legislations he pushed aggravated relations with Catholics, as well as with conservative Protestants. (1) In 1974, VGE promoted the law crafted by his Minister of Health, Simone Veil, decriminalizing abortion. Known as la loi Veil, it was (euphemistically) known as IVG (interruption volontaire de la grossesse – voluntary interruption of pregnancy). Veil (not to be confused with the theologian Simone Veil, who converted from formal Judaism to evangelical religion) argued for a “compassionate” view: no woman ever wanted an abortion, which always created a crisis for her, but that abuse was so rampant it was better to legalize it. (2) The second was to allow no-fault divorce, seen as an antidote against the perceived male-bias of the present law, which required finding fault with one of the parties, empirically often the insufficiencies of mothers. Perhaps most significantly of all, he endorsed the privatization of religious convictions, rather than supporting the historic view that France was the “eldest daughter” of the Church.
According to Jean Duchesne, privatization ought to be a wakeup call to Catholics in need of embracing modern life. (See his article in Aleteia [https://fr.aleteia.org/2020/12/08/giscard-la-fin-dune-epoque-le-catholicisme-populaire/].) Rightly navigated it should be a platform from which to be more public in one’s faith. He recounts seeing VGE attend mass in New York with Cardinal Lustiger. It caught him off guard since Giscard’s private religion was thought to be, well, private. He goes on to argue that Catholicism today needs to be a religion of the people, popular without being “populist”, and that Giscard showed the way. Disappointing for most of us, though, is that Duchesne’s popular religion meant being open to such things as abortion, divorce, and even higher criticism of the Bible.
Our Seminary in Aix also wants the Christian faith to be popular, but in the sense that the Reformation forefathers intended it: able to be understood by the people, not open to every kind of ethical or critical accommodation. It is not likely that VGE knew our Seminary. But did he unwittingly contribute to recognizing a need for a version of the Christian faith which is popular, yet still orthodox? May neither Giscard nor French people be incompris on such a high priority matter. It’s a matter of life or death.
