Do you know where my husband is?

Sexus politicus by Christophe Deloire and Christophe Dubois (in French). Michel Albin, 390 pages, 20.90 euro

Edgar Faure, the president of France's National Assembly from 1973 to 1978, was a short, bald, ugly man with terrible diction. He was also brilliant and charismatic. Everyone in Paris knew of his insatiable appetite for beautiful women - and of their willingness to succumb to his charms. His wife, Lucie, was aware of this too, but she turned a blind eye. The Faures loved each other very much. Shortly after Lucie's death, Edgar entered a Paris hotel accompanied by a woman who was neither as young nor as beautiful as his usual companions. The hotel manager discreetly asked Faure about his changed preferences. "Well, I am in mourning!" the widower sighed.

This is only one of numerous anecdotes contained in the nearly 400 pages of "Sexus Politicus," which deals with the (largely known) secrets of French politicians. Christophe Deloire and Christophe Dubois, journalists for Le Point and Le Parisien, have joined many others in exploiting the upcoming elections in France. As the battle for the presidency draws near, the gloves have come off, and the blows are falling lower and lower. In an atmosphere of endless "exposes" and "revelations" about the lives of past and present candidates, the story of Mazarine, Francois Mitterrand's illegitimate daughter, is only the tip of the iceberg that is the sex scandals of the Fifth Republic.

These stories are juicy indeed, but behind them hide a troubling picture of French politics, where there is always much to hide, and where threats may lead to the use of dubious measures. Which raises the question of whether the politicians use the same kinds of tactics to cover up other problems - matters involving not their own bare buttocks, but domestic or foreign policy? Just how "squeezable" are French politicians? Can they be blackmailed? The top heartbreakers remain the two last presidents: Mitterrand, who kept a veritable harem of female friends and lovers with the knowledge and consent of his wife, Danielle; and Jacques Chirac, nicknamed "Mr. 12 minutes including a shower."

The authors claim that Valery Giscard d'Estaing, the president who preceded Mitterrand, was the only politician about whom it could be known for certain where he did not spend the night, whereas Bernadette Chirac's famous question "Do you know where my husband is?" has long become a household phrase. Yes, this is the relaxed, liberated atmosphere that prevails at the Elysee Palace, and one must admit that it makes Bill Clinton and the media frenzy surrounding the Monica Lewinsky scandal seem provincial and ridiculous. The French don't make a big deal of the affairs of their elected officials. As far as they are concerned, this is a permissive, none-too-serious matter. They are amused, they understand, they nod and smile. After all, sex, love and politics have always been inseparable: in the 18th century, Madame de Maintenon, mistress of Louis XIV, and Madame de Pompadour, consort of Louis XV, dominated not only their lovers but the court of Versailles itself, and they left a considerable impact on its policies.

A string of lovers has always been part of the politicians' arsenal of power, and presidents Giscard d'Estaing, Mitterrand and Chirac were only continuing the monarchical tradition under the republican monarchy. Ministers, members of the General Assembly and, of course, candidates for top positions have all done the same; nothing new there. Sex, politics and the media The tight link between sex, politics and the press is also well-known. Already in the late 1960s, Jean-Jacques Servan-Schreiber, founder of L'Express, established his magazine's so-called "commando" of female journalists. Over the objections of Francoise Giroud, the magazine's legendary feminist editor, Servan-Schreiber openly chose the most attractive and talented young female reporters and encouraged them to use their personal charms to obtain information from politicians. The lovely Catherine Nay, a senior journalist at the radio station Europe 1 (and the author of a recent biography of Nicolas Sarkozy), and Michele Cotta, now the head of a television station, smile as they recall how Nay was put in charge of the right, while Cotta was dispatched to "handle" the left. Cotta never concealed her close relationship with Mitterrand, whereas Nay finished her mission with a partner in tow - the former Gaullist minister Albin Chalandon. They have never revealed whether they actually slept with their interviewees, but the intention was clear. And if they did, no one was too flustered by it. On the contrary: female journalists, and especially (by sheer chance) from the right-wing daily Le Figaro, have repeatedly formed close ties with top players.

In the early 1970s, the book reveals, Chirac was on the brink of divorce following a passionate affair with a young reporter from the newspaper. Bernadette agreed to the separation, but the leaders of the Gaullist Party considered the ambitious Chirac a winner and pressured him to leave his mistress, though not before "someone" managed to remove any incriminating trace of the affair from her apartment. The irony of fate led the brokenhearted journalist into the arms of Francois Mitterrand, who as we know liked to offer comfort, and not only to disappointed reporters. One of the prominent figures of the Socialist Party and the former minister for economics, Dominique Strauss-Kahn, is married to the famous journalist Anne Sinclair, who gave up her journalistic career for him. The book reveals, however, that Strauss-Kahn occasionally patronizes an exclusive swingers club and some very private parties. When his wife Cecilia temporarily left him, Nicolas Sarkozy also sought solace in the arms of a reporter for Le Figaro.

The Cecilia Sarkozy affair became an amusing bit of vaudeville two years ago, when she left Sarkozy - then interior minister and the right's candidate for president - for a Jewish businessman and moved with her children to New York. Sarkozy made sure to keep up his glamorous image, smiling happily for the cameras with his young companion by his side. Cecilia returned and left three times, and each time the Le Figaro reporter was sacrificed and sent home. Now, as the elections draw near, Cecilia has returned to the arms of the frontrunner and is already planning her new wardrobe.

Sarko's wife

The absence of unusual stories about left-wing candidate Segolene Royal is odd, since informed observers claim that despite the appearance of domestic bliss and the four children she has put to extensive use in the campaign, she has long been separated from her partner and the father of her children, French Socialist Party chairman Francois Holland. "Sexus Politicus" is essentially a voyeuristic collection of gossip. Despite its flippant tone and rather amusing chapters, the book raises issues that are hard to ignore. The dalliances of politicians lead to wiretapping, spying, blackmail and lies, especially during an election campaign. As the country's formidable interior minister, Sarkozy pressured and threatened the press, and he got the editor of Paris Match fired after the magazine published a picture of Cecilia Sarkozy and her lover. Each candidate wants to find his rival's Achilles heel; slander and nasty rumors proliferate. If the French are really so permissive when it comes to their leaders' private lives, why was it so important for presidents Giscard d'Estaing, Mitterrand and Chirac to remain within the bounds of wedlock, even though everyone knew this was only a facade? Why did Mitterrand wait until a few months before the end of his second term as president - a position he held for 14 years - before publicly acknowledging Mazarine? And why did Sarkozy fight so hard to bring Cecilia back after having been publicly humiliated? (There is nothing the French find funnier than the word cocu, or cuckold). "Sarko" knows he has a better chance of winning the election with his wife by his side, even if it is just a charade. They all lie through their teeth, fight to maintain a respectable public image, have their pictures taken with their smiling families. No one buys it, but it is still done. And the question is: Where does the lie end?