La notion de l'État

Of the in-person speakers at Pres. Ronald Reagan’s funeral services Friday, Canada’s former (1984-1993) Prime Minister Brian Mulroney touched me the most, with what I thought was the best of the eight live eulogies or homilies. (Baroness Margaret Thatcher’s taped remembrance was also touching in its own way, even with the knowledge that she filmed it several months ago.)

One day President Mitterrand [of France] in referring to President Reagan said, “Il a vraiment la notion de l’État.” Rough translation: “He really has a sense of the State about him.” The translation does not fully capture the profundity of the observation: what President Mitterrand meant was that there is a vast difference between the job of president and the role of president.

Ronald Reagan fulfilled both with elegance and ease, embodying himself that unusual alchemy of history, tradition, achievement, inspirational conduct and national pride that define the special role the president of the United States must assume at home and around the world. “La notion de l’État” — no one understood it better than Ronald Reagan and no one could more eloquently summon his nation to high purpose or bring forth the majesty of the presidency and make it glow, better than the man who saw his country as a “shining city on a hill.”
     — from CNN.com

When the capital letter snapped into place on État — State — it would have been clear to the French-speaker Mulroney that Mitterrand was referring back to a seminal quote in French history, Louis XIV’s (possibly apocryphal) response to a confrontational parliamentarian: ”L’État, c’est moi!” — “I am the State!” Louis XIV, “The Sun King”, epitomized absolute monarchy in the 17th and early 18th century, but more importantly to this discussion, remains an enduring symbol of France itself (among other things, he built the Palace of Versailles). The idea of a leader symbolically representing the nation has continued to our present concept of “head of state” — a role filled in the US by our elected president, as opposed to in other countries where a monarch or a selected ceremonial president (as in Germany, Ireland and Israel) takes that position.

A prime minister is different, and not just in manner of selection. (In parliamentary governments, the PM is generally the leader of the majority party in the House of Commons, like our Speaker of the House; members of Cabinet are MPs (like Congressmen) selected to take on that extra job.) A prime minister is head of government, a (supposedly) purely functional position rather than the symbolic head of state. In the US, we don’t have this dichotomy, so our president must satisfy both needs — which isn’t easy. Being a symbol can often stand in the way of being an effective leader, because leadership (head of government) requires tough decisions that can tarnish the glow of a symbol (head of state). Ronald Reagan was able to manage both roles well, which isn’t nearly always the case.

La notion de l’État rang true to me as the camera panned the congregation, revealing faces from the start of my interest in the world outside the Richmond-Washington I-95 corridor. On one row in the Cathedral Friday afternoon sat, from center to outside: Charles, Prince of Wales; Brian Mulroney with his wife Mila; Baroness Thatcher; and Mikhail Gorbachev. Along with the aforementioned François Mitterrand (who died in 1996), these people symbolized their countries to me at a time when I was first learning about that big world past the I-95 Richmond-to-Washington corridor.

Though they weren’t all heads of state, these individuals all gave a seven- or eight-year-old me notions of their États by their conduct. Canada, per Mulroney? Slightly more sophisticated than us, occasionally a bit sanctimonious or square, but overall solid people and good neighbors to have in an uncertain world. France, per Mitterrand? Smart, yes. As smooth as they come, yes. Trustworthy when your back is turned? Don’t bet on it (Mitterrand appears to have derived all his enjoyment in life from political backstabbing and serial adultery). The UK, per Thatcher? Tough, intellectually fast on their feet, and supremely confident in the eventual triumph of Right. And the Russians, per Gorbachev? They were the bad guys, and they started from a set of principles that were totally alien to everything we stood for. But there was something good and honorable about Gorbachev — something kulturniy (культурный) — that made him, and his Soviet Union, seem finally amenable to negotiation.

Were these senses superficial caricatures at times? Yes — I was in third grade. But did they have some essential truth to them? Also yes. Gorbachev fought hard to defend the system in which he had risen to power, but as an honest and good man, he conveyed to us the sense that maybe the freeze didn’t have to continue — that it could end well after all.

And it did, thanks in large part to one man who knew well how to shine forth the light of his “city on a hill.” Rest in peace, Mr. President.