Every Saturday locals and tourists flock to the center of the historic town of Pézénas in France’s Languedoc region, just 30 minutes from the Mediterranean coast.
There has been a market here just about every weekend since the 14th century. From the Place Frédéric Mistral to the Place des Trois-Six the streets are closed to traffic and taken over by stalls selling fruit, cheese, vegetables, meats, flowers and even clothing. Some people come just for the spectacle, or to sip a coffee in the Café des Arts.
Last Saturday, for once, the topic of conversation was not where to find the best tomatoes or the cheapest asparagus or even the pretty girl at the oyster stall. Politics took center stage, with the presidential vote dominating the conversation.
This region has known turbulent times, not least the only crusade on European soil when the Pope and the King of France conspired to overthrow the Cathars, deemed to be a heretical sect. That was in 1215, but in many ways the region still bears a grudge. People here resent the political overlords in Paris, renowned for “having their fingers in the jam jar” as one person put it colorfully.
But the vote on Sunday proved once again that although the French love to talk of revolution, strikes and marching in the streets, they are a deeply conservative people. The right and left are united in a desire to make sure that nothing changes, especially the restrictive labor laws that make it virtually impossible to fire any worker, however inept or idle they prove to be.
The establishment has won, much to the disappointment of some in the southern town of Pézénas. There will be no Frexit, only closer European integration. This is how France continues, not with a bang but a whimper.
Rupert Wright
There were armed police at the southern roundabout to the entrance of Pézenas, though nobody knew whether they were looking for terrorists or just making some money out of drivers who had failed to insure their cars. People here are skeptical of authority; it has always been a place for those on the periphery of society, fleeing the taxman or an angry spouse, for a life of sunshine and wild open spaces. From the coast to the mountains, about 60 miles, the land is mainly used for agricultural purposes, especially growing grapes. There is very little industry.
In Giuseppe Tomasi di Lampedusa’s “The Leopard,” describing the changes that will sweep through the newly united Italy in the 1870s, one of the characters says that: “If we want things to stay as they are, everything will have to change.” The French decided at the weekend that they did not want to risk it. Emmanuel Macron, with his shiny suits and craven support from the media, topped the vote. His repeated mantra is “En Marche” (on the move), but he is not going anywhere unfamiliar.
The establishment has won. For all his apparent unpopularity, and the poor showing by his party, outgoing President Francois Hollande looks like the big winner in this election. There will be no Frexit. There will be closer European integration. This is how France continues, not with a bang but a whimper.
Many in the Languedoc are unhappy with the result. According to Thierry, a local who runs a small gardening company, this vote should have been a time to give the establishment a bloody nose. “I drink a coffee every day with seven guys, and I am the only one who was undecided how to vote. The others all went for Marine Le Pen. But it’s not enough.”
Thierry and his friends remain concerned with the level of immigration. The south of France is home to many of the migrants from the Maghreb. A lot of them have integrated badly. In Pézénas, the Moroccans and Algerians even have their own benches where they sit and watch the world go by, while the men whose families have been here for generations sit on a bench opposite.
Voters wherever they are from also resent the taxes, which seem to rise inexorably.
“It used to be that if I earned €5,000, I was allowed to keep €3,000,” said Thierry. “This year it was the other way around, and after social charges I was left with just €2,000. It is hardly surprising that everybody here works on the black.”
In 2002, I joined a march through Pézenas in support of Jacques Chirac, but really in opposition to Jean-Marie Le Pen. The pair had won the first round of the presidential voting and nobody wanted Le Pen in the Élysée Palace. This time there is unlikely to be a similar march, or not on the same scale, even though once again many French are united in the hope of seeing history repeat itself, with a Le Pen denied the highest job in the land. The candidate for change is a millionaire former banker with Rothschild, a former minister in Hollande’s party, who has never been elected to anything in his life, a sheep in sheep’s clothing.
You can see why people in Pézenas might feel some resentment. Out of its population of 8,290, the majority voted for Jean-Luc Mélenchon followed closely by Le Pen. Macron finished a limp third.
“Yet again we have been stitched up by the establishment in Paris,” said a lady in one of the many bread shops. “We are about to elect a French Tony Blair. We may have to wait another thousand years for something positive to happen here.”
• Rupert Wright is co-chairman of Hemington Consulting. He was a journalist for 25 years, writing mainly for The Times and the Financial Times, and latterly The National in Abu Dhabi.













