
Following Ségolène Royal's day of reflection on the reasons for her loss
, Libé today has a series of articles treating the question.
Stéphane Rozès sees a defeat prepared in three stages, culminating in a collapse into anti-Sarkozysm, repeating Jospin's error of campaigning against Chirac rather than for a program of the left.
Renaud Dély indicts the "obsolescence" of the left's understanding of French society.
Royal herself says "I ran a grass-roots campaign. Result: my reactivity on the networks was less effective." But she continues, she says, to believe in "participatory democracy. This modern way of doing politics remains pertinent." Jacques Généreux, less
généreux than his name might imply,
blames the candidate for coming on like an "illuminated televangelist," but then he adds, "a little like Jeanne d'Arc," which makes you wonder to which of the three the critic has been most unjust, the candidate, televangelists, or La Pucelle. And finally
there is BHL, who blames everyone
but the candidate, alleging that many in the party "supported her as the rope supports the hanged man." Royal herself he finds to have been "courageous and skillful, aggressive and sincere, accommodating when she should have been, without concessions when she could." For him the problem lies in the party itself, a fractious menagerie of "contradictory ideologies and world views."
And this is the problem with self-criticism. They say that victory has a thousand fathers while defeat is an orphan. It might be truer to say that defeat has a thousand deadbeat dads, each with his own alibi. The reasons don't add up; they run off in a thousand different directions. But if one were to try to synthesize a lesson from this unpalatable mess of whines, whacks, and waspishness, it might be this: a successful candidate needs to wed an idea and not merely communicate the ideas of others, whether of a party, a participating people, or a voice in the night.