Plumbing the Political Depths

The scandal of the commune’s plundered coffers rumbles on. Of the allegations themselves (see “Nefarious Deeds & Smarties”) I have little to add save that the boys in blue have been around again and confiscated various computers from the Mairie, which is what we call the town hall around here.

But there has been one tiny development of interest: our plumber has resigned as deputy mayor and as a councillor.

He came round this evening to talk to My Dear Wife about the remaining works that need to be completed in our kitchen and bathroom and while he was here he comprehensively spilled the beans.

Now, I must stress that this is only one persons account and must be weighted accordingly. Not that I doubt his word, but it has always been my experience that one person’s perspective seldom allows one to appreciate the whole picture.

For a start, he revealed that he was intimately involved in the initial approach to the authorities by the association that first noted “irregularities.” Apparently they had already tried to talk to Mr Mayor about it but had got nowhere, so they went to the deputy instead.

He did get somewhere. Eventually. And in the course of doing so was able to confirm to himself that it appeared there were some altered and possibly falsified documentation being used in commune business.

He has continued to struggle with the intransigence of Mr Mayor – for example, the vote on the commune’s budget is months late and still shows no signs of appearing on the agenda – and finds himself getting it in the neck from opposition councillors understandably frustrated by what is (or isn’t) going on.

So he’s gone.

In itself interesting, but the implications are more so. Because there are persistent and mounting rumours that Mr Mayor could himself finally deign to step down under pressure from On High to do the Decent Thing, at least during the investigation. My views on this are unchanged: whatever happened took place on his watch, whether or not he was involved, and therefore he should take responsibility for the lack of oversight that allowed it to happen. With power comes duty.

Now, the law requires that the Mayor of a commune be elected from a council that is complete. But now we have an empty seat at the table, so we would need to re-elect the entire council to allow a replacement mayor to be chosen.

Our plumber says he has no interest in presenting at election himself: he certainly won’t be joining any list proposed by our current mayor and his relationship with some members of “our” list is also on the brittle side, though he did mention that he could, of course, have his name written in by the electorate.

Perhaps I read too much into that, but it has the vague air to me of someone setting out their stall: “no interest in the job myself, but if people thought that I could best serve the interest of the commune through the vehicle of elected office then quite naturally – if reluctantly and putting my personal desires to one side – I would accept the honour of being of service.”
Hopefully whatever does happen will do so in short order as the normal business of the commune is being considerably disrupted. For example, the grant that is provided for the école privée from the commune is running late. It should be paid each quarter, but has been paid more than three months late for some time – meaning of course that the school has effectively lost out on a quarter’s payment altogether, and hopefully this hasn’t gone missing too – but from the end of March it will be six months late.

Given how tight the school’s budget is, this is not good news, and there has been speculation by some that this is a situation desired by some in positions of authority who really don’t like the fact that the école privée exists at all.

That sounds far-fetched to me, but with surprises continuing to pop up I suppose I shouldn’t discount it entirely.

I should add that I take no pleasure in this business. I don’t like Mr Mayor, but that does not mean that I am content to witness his discomfiture. I am angry that someone – and I am not forming judgements as to who since I do not believe that I am in possession of all the facts – has seemingly stolen from the common pot, but I am also very much saddened that someone was either so malicious or so desperate that they abused the trust vested in them.

It is always easy to be cynical about people’s morals and motives, but it has been my experience that most people are basically honest and essentially good. Cynicism is frequently equated with wisdom, but that is a naïve viewpoint indeed.