Ideological issues

During the Uruguay negotiations, President Mitterrand stressed the need ‘to create and choose our own images’, as a fundamental freedom283 and was not alone this view:

These sentiments were echoed by Bertrand Tavernier, ‘pictures have an enormous influence on people’s lives’ and Jean-Claude Carrière, ‘A race which no longer creates its own images is certain to die out’284.

For France, preservation of the country’s national identity and the ability to continue to make films that reflect and transmit that identity was paramount. The US largely dismissed concerns about a loss of identity, interpreting the concerns as a guise to protect European film and television producers, allowing them to make more money at the expense of the Americans.

Those that did acknowledge there was a genuine concern were confused by the arguments about cultural protection. France took the lead in negotiations from the European side, but the talks were held in a European context. Europe, however, had no cohesive identity; it was a collection of states, each with its own history, language and political system. American negotiators failed to grasp that they were negotiating collectively to defend individual national identities. They were also bemused by European content quotas that seemed to suggest that

282 _{See Arjo Klamer, ‘Economic aspects of cultural exchange’ in van Hemel, Mommaas and Smithuijsen}

(eds.), Trading culture, p. 41 and Rod Kedward, La Vie en bleu: France and the French since 1900, (London: Penguin Books, 2006), pp. 573-5

283 _{Speech by François Mitterrand cited in Puttnam, The Undeclared War, p. 7. See also comments about}

the potential for France to become ‘an enslaved society’ if the process were left unchecked (see Chapter 2).

284 _{Bertrand Tavernier and Jean-Claude Carrière cited by Ann Marie Condron ‘Chapter 11: Cinema’ in}

Spanish identity would be reinforced more readily by showing German content in Spain than by broadcasting a Spanish film of Mexican origin285.

The US position, according to Grantham, was also shaped by a deep distrust of the French. He notes that the American middle class tend to view the French as ‘a fickle and unreliable people’286. The Americans may have had a revolution 200 years ago to gain independence, but the constitution and political institutions created in the aftermath have been consistently in force ever since. The French, meanwhile, have had a revolution, restored the monarchy and removed it again, created and abandoned two empires and are now on their fifth republic and the second since the end of World War II. This level of instability suggests that the French could change tack at any time and, therefore, are not to be trusted.

Beyond that, the Americans believed that European policies contravened the fundamental First Amendment right to free speech. Chao comments that many Americans believe that the guarantee of free speech implies ‘a guarantee of free access to information’287. By imposing quotas, the French were favouring access to some content and potentially restricting access to other films. This was not an argument that was rebutted with any great force at the time, but since then filmmakers have begun to regard French subsidy programmes, particularly the avance sur recettes, as providing the opportunity for a wider range of people to make films, within France and abroad, and therefore providing access to a greater range of opinions, not restricting it.

The French and the Americans also had differing perceptions of the value of film. For the French it is the septième art; for the Americans, movies are simply entertainment. This was reflected in the different terms the French and the Americans used during the Uruguay round. US negotiators talked of ‘cultural products’, representing movies as commodity items churned

285

Grantham, Some Big Bourgeois Brothel, pp. 110-2

286 _{Ibid., pp. 8-9} 287

out by an ‘entertainment business’ and to be bought and sold like cars, shoes or bananas. French rhetoric was laden with references to ‘auteurs’ and ‘œuvres’, referring to the defining vision and artistry of the director and to his canon of work, just as with literary and artistic figures such as Molière or Monet. However, Regourd suggests that when the French did talk about culture as ‘pas une marchandise comme les autres’ the statements were overlooked, as negotiations related to services not goods288.

But as with the US stance, French arguments were moulded by their preconceptions and a deep-rooted strand of French anti-Americanism. From the early 20th century, the US became synonymous with modernity, efficiency, standardisation and commercialism. In the post-war years, while the young saw increased mobility, liberalism and opportunity in the ‘American dream’, their parents saw social breakdown. The older generation also resented the need for US financial support to rebuild the country after the war. For them, there was nothing altruistic about the US investment; the US was simply trying to create the ‘good consumers’ of tomorrow and a market for its products. This was an attitude perpetuated by the PCF, which has continued to hold sway even after the communists have fallen out of favour politically289_. Richard Pells argues, this division was actually symptomatic of the age-old generation gap, which became more exaggerated from the 1960s because of the rapidly increasing pace of technological development290.

Regardless, anti-Americanism has continued into the present day with left-wing intellectuals representing America’s push for trade liberalisation as the imposition of a totalitarian pensée unique (Chapter 2). For the cultural (and political) élite, ensuring French films continue to be made helps to fight this process of indoctrination and to maintain traditional French values.

288

‘not a product like any other’. Author’s own emphasis. Regourd, L’Exception culturelle, p. 78

289 _{Grantham, Some Big Bourgeois Brothel, p. 18} 290