In front of the school, the thirty or so electoral panels set up for the European elections are still there. Naked. With the exception of five of them, which host, scattered, the posters urgently put together by the parties candidate for the legislative elections. One candidate’s face is smeared with a Hitler mustache, another is crossed out with a homophobic insult… Behind this sad graphic spectacle, the school is particularly lively at this late hour. It’s a fair! The cries of children and the hubbub of parents barely cover the spitting sound system Dance Monkey.
In this small town in Yvelines near Versailles, nearly 24% of voters voted for Valérie Hayer’s Macronist list in the European elections, 10 points more than the national average. They were followed by the Glucksmann lists at 16.6% and Bellamy at 14.4%. With 14.1% of the vote, the Bardella list was just off the podium. Here, the RN and LFI are being shunned, given their national results. And we are just before the first round of the legislative elections.
The chilling wind of the coming elections
But at the angling stand, we don’t talk about that. The mother of Louise*, 5 years old, is taken aback that we dare to mention the legislative elections, even in a playful tone: “There is a good atmosphere, it feels good before Sunday…” With all the firm tact that confers simi-Versailles education that the inhabitants of this commune received, it shows us the queue to acquire the access tokens to the activities.
The radiant sun and the light breeze make the audience unanimously cheerful. At the second attempt, more head-on (“So? Do you talk politics a little? Do you know who votes what among you?”), the group of six friendly parents is petrified. We let the angel pass before a courageous dad explains: “I think I would prefer to talk about my sex life than politics. » The sentence makes the audience smile, relieved, but says a lot.
Is coconut flan apolitical?
In this corner of wooded countryside – 15 minutes by train from Paris – rather right-wing, we like to talk about the need to preserve our “privileged living environment” so as not to have to say “city of privileged executives”. Nevertheless, this school brings together a few families from the neighboring social housing and the fair therefore displays a timid social mix.
At the buffet, the mother of Dounia, 6 years old, who also has a sleeping baby behind her, doesn’t lose her smile when we talk to her about the elections but would especially like us to choose a cake: “Peanut brownie? Banana yogurt cake? Crepes ? – No, nothing thanks. And otherwise, these elections… – Oh but here tonight, it’s apolitical! Taste the coconut flan, it’s very good…” At this word (“apolitical”, not “coconut flan”), Romane’s mother loses her temper slightly: “But after all, nothing is apolitical! It’s all politics! For example, a fair buffet that doesn’t offer anything vegetarian is political! » Silence forbidden… “But yes, there’s quiche there!” », cries Dounia’s mother.
Punch prevents dissolution
We leave the hot dog stand – where the conversation shifts to the difficulty of certain games which frustrate the children – to join the punch planter stand. Undeniably one of the most successful among parents. However, it could have been censored: some parents were moved – but not very much – that children could see adults a little tipsy. “Ha? Muslims? » asks a dad who is on his second glass of punch. “No, just piss-colds,” a mother replies. Hmm… This punch is good. Strong, but good. »
Could this politically incorrect exchange in the very polite context of this fair give rise to a political discussion? “I prefer not to know who my neighbors are voting for because I don’t want to get angry. Talking about politics is an obstacle to living together, and we have to be able to put up with each other,” explains the mother of Danaé, 11 years old. This precarious balance that allows the city to be considered “calm and privileged” is what the father of Victoria, also 11 years old, cherishes most: “I don’t want to find out that one of my neighbors or that parents at school are voting for Le Pen. Even if statistically, it’s certain. If the RN passed 15% here, it would screw me up…”
An uninteresting “no label”
It took until the middle of the fair for a parent to name a party and a name. There would be no others. Even if here and there, a few lazy platitudes were scratched out about “rejecting the extremes”. The day before the fair, the mayor, who defines himself as “without political affiliation”, called for a vote for the Macronist “incumbent candidate”, to “win this election against the extremes”.
Few residents seem to have read this press release, and the rest don’t care. “I’ve already had enough of the TV talking about it all the time, it’s okay now,” says Sophie’s mother, 8, annoyed, before turning on her heels to head to the raffle draw. “Here, people aren’t racist, but hey… There were a lot of volunteers to welcome the exiled Ukrainians, but when gypsies move in, they call the town hall to complain,” says Manon’s father, 7.
Nothing more controversial will be drawn from this fair that is coming to an end, while the French patrol puts on a show in the sky of the neighboring Palace of Versailles. Watching the blue-white-red plumes dissipate in the dark azure, the parents are meeting at the city festival, postponed because of the June rains and which will therefore take place between the two rounds. Will the elections be discussed there? Nothing is less certain.
* The first names have been changed.
