Brave Struggle, Simple Farewell

The expected tributes flooded in from all over the globe. President Richard Nixon called him "a man of vision, constraint, consistency and enormous strength of character." Soviet Party Chief Leonid Brezhnev praised him as "an outstanding statesman who commanded great respect in the Soviet Union." Egyptian President Anwar Sadat remembered him as a man who "proved by word and deed that he was a great friend of the Arab world." In his native France, boulevards and schools were already being named for him.

The obsequies were for French President Georges Pompidou--classicist, civil servant, financier and politician--who died last week at age 62 after a prolonged and painful bout with what is suspected to have been multiple myeloma (cancer of the bone marrow). At week's end, nearly 70 of the world's leaders, including Britain's Prime Minister Harold Wilson, West German Chancellor Willy Brandt, Japanese Premier Kakuei Tanaka, Soviet President Nikolai Podgorny, Queen Juliana of The Netherlands and the Duke of Edinburgh, flew to Paris to pay him final tribute. There, in the Gothic splendor of Notre Dame Cathedral, Francois Cardinal Marty, Archbishop of Paris, celebrated the memorial Mass. Among the dignitaries was President Nixon, who stayed on for a day to meet with European leaders, notably Brandt and Wilson, on the status of U.S. relations with the Atlantic alliance.

Two days earlier, Pompidou had been buried with an austere, simple service, as he had requested in a confidential note that he gave to his aide 20 months ago. A Requiem Mass was celebrated in his parish church of St.Louisen-l'Ile, near the Pompidous' elegant seven-room apartment on the He St. Louis in the middle of the Seine. Some 400 mourners, including his widow Claude, his son Alain, members of the government and old friends, crowded the baroque church for the 50-minute service. His casket was draped with the French tricolor and, as he had requested, a choir of monks chanted ancient Gregorian hymns. After the ceremony, a cortege of black Citroens carried the immediate family and the casket to the Pompidous' weekend retreat in the village of Orvilliers, 31 miles outside of Paris. There, after an eight-minute prayer service, the body of the late President was interred in the graveyard of the parish church.

Pompidou's desire to be buried under a simple headstone in a tiny village was strikingly similar to the arrangements Charles de Gaulle requested for himself. It was perhaps appropriate that in death, as in much of his life, Pompidou marched to the beat of the general's drum. He was De Gaulle's chosen heir, and though he lacked the general's grandeur and electrifying sense of history, Pompidou took De Gaulle's inspiration and institutionalized it. He kept alive the ideals of a movement--a strong executive authority, a sense of social order, a heightened feeling of national pride and independence--that might have died with its founder. Still, Pompidou was more of a caretaker than a creator, and he notably failed to impart to his countrymen--particularly the young--any stirring vision of France as a future society.

Pompidou's sudden death came as a shock to his countrymen, but it was not unexpected. There was little visible outpouring of grief. Most Frenchmen, perhaps, felt some relief that the President was at last out of pain. They may also have been relieved that his death ended the awful spectacle of Pompidou clinging tenaciously to the presidency despite his debilitating illness. Perhaps he feared that his resignation would lead to political chaos by creating a scramble among his potential successors. Ironically, having died without indicating an heir to leadership of the Gaullist Union des Democrates pour la Cinquieme Republique (U.D.R.), Pompidou left France facing one of its most uncertain and critical moments since De Gaulle abruptly resigned as Premier of the Fourth Republic in 1946.

The stampede that Pompidou had hoped to prevent broke out almost as soon as the burial service ended. Jacques Chaban-Delmas, Pompidou's Premier from 1969 to 1972, wasted no time announcing his candidacy for the presidency, and was promptly endorsed by the U.D.R. leadership. Edgar Faure, a Premier during the Fourth Republic (1952, 1955-56), also declared his availability. Other prospective candidates, notably Finance Minister Valery Giscard d'Estaing of the National Federation of Independent Republicans, and Socialist Party Leader Franc,ois Mitterrand, indicated that they were delaying their announcements until after the national memorial services last Saturday. But with the first round of national balloting scheduled for May 5, the candidates must hurry to declare--unseemly as their haste appears.

Many criticized Pompidou's stubborn refusal to relinquish power. Nonetheless, there was almost universal admiration for his stoic endurance of the painful disease that apparently killed him. Attempting to prove that the business of diplomacy could go on as usual. Pompidou visited both China and the Soviet Union, but in both countries he had to curtail his schedule. His puffy face and almost waddling gait betrayed how serious his condition was, despite official insistence that he was discomforted only by influenza and rectal pains.

A few intimate associates now say that during his last days Pompidou acknowledged his agony. While visiting Orvilliers at the end of March, he reportedly told his wife: "Claude, I didn't think anyone could suffer so much." At his last Cabinet meeting, he told colleagues: "This is a real physical test and challenge to my moral fiber." Yet throughout that meeting, according to Minister of Commerce and Industry Yves Guena, "Pompidou managed to force a smile."

Highest Honor. That smile typified Pompidou's approach to life--his attempt to cloak an unrelenting drive and ambition behind a fac,ade of casual effortlessness. While a student at the elitist Ecole Normale Superieure, he won first place in Greek and graduated at the head of his class. But because he seemed to achieve these honors without having expended great effort and earned a reputation as a campus playboy, the examining board informed him: "We had no choice but to award you first place, but it is with great regret. Of all the normaliens, you have worked the least." Actually, he had worked hard. After graduation in 1934, he taught French literature, Greek and Latin in a Marseille high school.

Some of Pompidou's more adoring biographers have written vaguely of his work with the French Underground during World War II. In fact, he lived quietly in Paris during the German Occupation, teaching at the Lycee Henri IV and taking no part in the Resistance. He first glimpsed Charles de Gaulle, as did hundreds of thousands of other Parisians, while standing on the sidewalk as the general led a parade of victorious soldiers, following the liberation of Paris. Later, through a friend, he arranged to join De Gaulle's staff as a secretary. After De Gaulle's resignation in 1946, Pompidou stayed on to hold a number of civil service posts until 1954, when he joined the Rothschild Bank as a director. Despite his lack of training in finance, he so successfully revitalized that gilt-edged but aging firm that the Baron Guy de Rothschild soon named him the bank's general director.

Discreet Manager. During this period, Pompidou also served De Gaulle as the discreet manager of his personal affairs. After De Gaulle's election to the presidency of the new Fifth Republic in 1959, he continued using Pompidou for important tasks. Among other projects, he handled many of the delicate negotiations in Switzerland with the Algerian nationalists. In April 1962, one week after the Algerian war had ended. De Gaulle called upon Pompidou to become his Premier. Because he had worked so much behind the scenes, it was the first time that most Frenchmen had heard of him.

Never having held elective office, Pompidou admitted that for him a career in politics was "completely an accident." He soon became an effective debater in the National Assembly, despite derisive catcalls of "Rothschild! Rothschild! Rothschild!" from the leftist deputies. He overhauled the rusty machinery of the U.D.R., recruiting new members and starting new units in provincial towns and villages. After the May 1968 students-workers riots, the U.D.R.--thanks in large measure to Pompidou's party reforms--won an impressive victory in the national elections. De Gaulle rewarded his Premier by dumping him, possibly because the President viewed Pompidou's growing popularity and strength as a threat.

Pompidou, who often said that his favorite word was "destiny," remained in Paris, waiting. Then, in April 1969, De Gaulle suddenly resigned after French voters rejected a referendum on government reorganization that he had backed. Pompidou became the Gaullist candidate for President and won an easy victory. The satirical weekly Le Canard Enchaiene greeted his election by twitting: "France has lost a king and gained a managing director."

Although he lacked the imperial demeanor of le grand Charles, Pompidou had a distinctive style of his own. De Gaulle's press conferences were carefully staged classical theater; Pompidou's were more like conversations in a literary salon. He laced responses to questions with quotations from Rimbaud, Moliere and Saint-Just.

In the early days of his presidency, Pompidou would exercise an official prerogative by wandering through the Louvre after closing hours, lingering to contemplate the creations of his favorite artists. His personal collection included works by Ernst, Braque, Soulages and De Stael--some of which replaced the more traditional art that De Gaulle had favored for the presidential apartments of the Elysee Palace.

"Pompon." The President also had a common touch. At his Orvilliers retreat, he frequently invited the villagers to play billiards with him. He did not mind being photographed in a sloppy sweatshirt, ashes spewing from the ubiquitous cigarette that dangled from his lower lip. Nor did he seem to mind the slightly disparaging nickname they gave him: "Pompon."

During his five years in the Elysee, Pompidou continued De Gaulle's foreign policy. Most of his efforts were focused on the area most vital to France--Europe. Like De Gaulle, he envisaged a unified Europe composed of sovereign nations that would be strong enough to resist becoming dependent on either the Soviet Union or the U.S. More pragmatic than his predecessor, Pompidou agreed to let Britain join the Common Market (De Gaulle had twice vetoed the proposal). Pompidou also sponsored European summit meetings and even let some French military units participate occasionally in NATO maneuvers.

In domestic matters, Pompidou pushed for an expansionist economic policy that would modernize French industry and improve living standards. He was determined to avoid a repetition of the unrest and riots of 1968. Until last year his approach succeeded. But then France, as the rest of the non-Communist world, was hit by soaring inflation (10.3% in 1973) that eroded real wages and led to wildcat strikes. The Gaullist candidate in the presidential elections will probably be blamed for the faltering economy, as well as a succession of untidy government scandals that the ailing Pompidou seemed unable to prevent: the illegal bugging of up to 5,000 private telephones, tax frauds and the peddling of government favors.

With the Gaullist leadership backing Chaban, it is almost certain that Giscard--who might have been Pompidou's own choice as successor--will seek support from Gaullist liberals and other moderates. The Communists and Socialists, despite their differing views on what ought to be the next President's program, will probably unite behind Mitterrand as a joint leftist candidate.

Too Early. Because presidential candidates need only deposit $2,000 (refunded if they poll more than 5% of the vote) to be listed on the May 5 ballot, it is certain to be crowded with aspirants of every political persuasion. If no one wins a majority of the votes cast, the top two candidates will meet in a runoff, scheduled for May 19. Until the victor takes office, the acting head of state is Alain Poher, 64, President of the Senate. Poher served as interim President five years ago, during the hiatus between De Gaulle's resignation and Pompidou's inauguration. In the subsequent election, he surprised many by coming in second to Pompidou.

Poher's age makes it unlikely that he will run this time, but beyond that, nothing seems to be certain in the balloting. "It is still too early to predict the election's results," says TIME Chief European Correspondent William Rademaekers. "Yet it is clear that France's 31 million voters will decide the course of their country and of the Common Market for the remainder of this decade and beyond. The ultimate choice facing them will be between the 'continuity' of Gaullism or a break from it." A Socialist-Communist victory would bring Communists into a West European Cabinet for the first time since the beginning of the cold war.

That could lead to sweeping social changes in France, including adoption of a soak-the-rich taxation policy, and to a foreign policy cooler to the U.S. and NATO than even that of the Gaullists. The victory of a candidate representing a path between Gaullism and the left, as Faure or Giscard might, would mean French support for greater integration of the European Economic Community and closer relations with the U.S. Not until Frenchmen cast their ballots, however, can the question posed last week by Le Monde be answered: "Is this the second death of Gaullism?"

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