Gordon Brown had every reason to look wistful as he watched the energetic
French leader and his glamorous wife seduce his queen and country last week.
Try as he might, grumpy Gordon lacked that magic something, that certain je
ne sais quoi that was being exuded with such nonchalant ease by the
couple from Paris. By half of it, at least.
Into a country groaning under the gloom of rising mortgage payments and
falling property prices came Carla Bruni-Sarkozy to claim her crown as the
new Queen of Hearts. Just watching this svelte former model and singer
bewitching the great and good of the land seemed to cheer up the nation:
state visits have seldom seemed so exciting.
Or frivolous, as some were saying. Is this what politics has come to: a circus
or, as one commentator put it, a “soufflé of silliness”? Have we entered the
epoch of the showmen presidents, the “barons of bling”?
SELDOM has Britain seen anything like the “Carlamania” that engulfed the
nation when the Italian pin-up turned première dame stepped off her plane
from Paris with the “little fella”, as The Sun referred to the pint-sized
president.
They bewitched banquets and canoodled together on a river trip – never has
pleasure cruising been so aptly named. Each change of outfit was greeted by
a torrent of hyperbole from the press. The pundits were smitten. So,
apparently, were the Queen and, especially, the Duke of Edinburgh. Bruni
even managed to enrapture a group of high-powered British women at a charity
lunch hosted by Sarah Brown, the prime minister’s wife. Carla confessed that
she had been nervous on only three occasions: the birth of her child, a huge
pop concert and last week.
The beginning was not auspicious. The couple arrived to find that Carla was
the first wife of a visiting head of state to be pictured naked in Britain’s
newspapers. At best that seemed unchivalrous, at worse the latest act of
hostility in the centuries-old cross-Channel rivalry. By the end of the
week, however, diplomacy seemed merely a backdrop for the fashion parade:
the speech by Bruni-Sarkozy’s husband before parliament was dismissed by one
observer as a “torrent of crème Chantilly sprayed from a high-pressure
hose”. Yet the newspapers were wondering if they had discovered the “new
Diana”.
If it all seems a bit vacuous, bear in mind that Tony Blair was, in some ways,
the inspiration for the European “blingocracy”. Sarkozy, who often holds up
Britain as an example for France to follow, adores Blair and is eager to
make him Europe’s first president.
The adoration is mutual. “Your president is very energetic,” Blair told a
gathering of Sarkozy’s centre-right party in Paris just after news emerged
that the French leader was dating Bruni late last year. He paused before
adding: “In every domain.”
Blair recognised the political advantage of being seen to associate with pop
stars. Not long after his election in 1997 he was inviting the cool kids
from Britpop to parties at No 10. A legion of famous guests followed them to
Chequers, including Bono, Bob Geldof, Mick Hucknall, David Bowie and Sir
Elton John.
Blair broke a long tradition of statesmanlike reserve among prime ministers by
being photographed in his swimming trunks on holiday, usually in the homes
of the rich and famous, including the Miami beach mansion belonging to Robin
Gibb of the Bee Gees, Sir Cliff Richard’s Barbados holiday home and the
French 15th-century chateau of Alain-Dominique Perrin, a French millionaire
businessman.
The Blairs also holidayed at the Sardinian villa of Silvio Berlusconi, who
showered them with gifts. What leader other than this Italian “king of
bling” would boast that it was his skills as a “playboy” that had enabled
him to seduce the female prime minister of Finland into agreeing to locate
the European Food Safety Authority in Italy instead of Helsinki?
Blair may have gone, but the power of bling is embodied still in Berlusconi,
who, at 71, remains the man to beat in next month’s Italian elections.
“Blingocrats” are springing up everywhere, even in Russia. Vladimir Putin’s
removal of his shirt to show off his pectorals while on a Siberian hunting
holiday would have been an unimaginable gesture in Leonid Brezhnev’s day.
Mind you, the sight of Brezhnev topless was probably not a vote winner (not
that votes mattered to him).
Latin Americans have always enjoyed politics as soap opera or an extension of
show business. Hugo Chavez, the Venezuelan leader, who has his own
television show, is simply continuing a trend that began with Argentina’s
Juan Domingo Peron and his wife Eva. But for Euopeans it is a novelty.
Jacques Chirac, Sarkozy’s immediate predecessor, descended now and then from
his cloud to mingle with mortals, but the closest he came to showbiz was
watching his favourite westerns on television. François Mitterrand, the
Socialist president, did not object to comparisons with God.
As for the British, cricketers were the boundary of John Major’s exploration
of the world of celebrity and it is not difficult to imagine what Margaret
Thatcher would have thought about Britpop.
Brown is very much in this traditional mode. He hides away his best, perhaps
only, claim to “blingdom” – the friendship that he and Sarah enjoy with J K
Rowling, the Harry Potter author.
An enjoyment of music seems to unite the “bling” boys – Berlusconi is a former
professional crooner, Sarko a karaoke enthusiast, Blair an electric guitar
player – but Brown even denied reports that he liked the super-cool Sheffied
teenage band Arctic Monkeys.
While Sarko dresses in Prada and Blair had suits made to measure in finest
worsted, Brown has seldom been seen in anything other than a navy suit and
white shirt, or a pull-over at the weekend.
As for his holidays, they could not be farther removed from the opulent idylls
of the Blair years or Sarkozy’s Christmas cruise down the Nile. Before
becoming prime minister, Brown went on jaunts to Cape Cod to meet Harvard
economists and Massachusetts Democrats, not a showy crowd. Last year he
spent a wet afternoon in Weymouth before scrapping his summer holidays to
handle the foot and mouth crisis.
The kiss he landed, with more enthusiasm than grace, on the cheek of “Queen
Carla” seemed a step, at least, in the right direction. Yet he seemed a
figure of fun as he tried to match up to Sarkozy and his magical missus. He
was reported to have got lost in Windsor Castle during the state banquet,
much to the Queen’s amusement.
On Friday, in an attempt to appear more informal, he gave a speech without
notes to the Scottish Labour party. It back-fired. To laughter, he talked
about Nelson Mandela having been freed “in our lunchtime”, rather than
“lifetime”. David Cameron, he ain’t In the words of one back-bencher,
Sarkozy was “a reminder of what we lost when we kicked out Tony”. He went
on: “The Blairs, particularly Cherie, never quite had the pizzazz that the
Sarkozys evidently have. But they did have a showbiz glamour; and, whether
we like to admit it or not, that counts in politics.”
EVEN so, being blingy is a tricky balancing act for any politician, as Blair
and Sarkozy discovered to their misfortune. Blair’s approval rating dived
when his honeymoon with the electorate ended. His showbiz visitors to
Chequers began to appear not a reflection of how cool he was but an example
of his focus on surface rather than substantive issues. How could anything
that the Spice Girl Gerri Halliwell would say help him to run the country
better?
For Sarkozy, his honeymoon ended extremely quickly after a series of
ill-advised antics with Bruni. In fact, polls show that the French have had
it with “le président bling-bling” – a nickname that he gained after racing
around in the jets of billionaire friends, wearing flashy watches and
Ray-Bans.
Since marrying Bruni two months ago he has been trying to remodel himself as a
more dignified figure. In this quest for gravitas he has ditched the jogging
shorts, designer sunglasses and Rolex and picked his engagements more
carefully, commemorating resistance heroes and launching a nuclear submarine
called Le Terrible.
The Queen was a key prop in Sarko’s effort to look more presidential. Last
week’s focus on his wife was very much a premeditated political act. The
French, although unable to suppress their naturally sceptical streak, seemed
in little doubt that “Queen Carla” would help to resurrect Sarkozy.
“He will seem a more worthy, wiser and above all calmer man,” predicted Denis
Muzet, a sociologist. “He will win back sympathy through the image of a
recognised, almost sanctified couple.”
Others are not so sure that such good publicity will have long-term effects.
Glamour, said Peter Kellner, chairman of the opinion poll group YouGov, “can
draw people to the shop window to inspect the goods”. But he added: “You can
be ugly and still win elections. Rarely do good looks, an attractive
speaking manner or a beautiful wife decide how people vote.”
After Carlamania, many politicians will be hoping he is right.
