In front of the school, the thirty or so electoral billboards set up for the European elections are still there. Bare. Except for five of them, which host, scattered, the posters hastily cobbled together by the parties running for the legislative elections. One candidate’s face is daubed with a Hitler moustache, another is crossed out with a homophobic insult… Behind this sad graphic spectacle, the school is particularly lively at this late hour. It’s the fair! The children’s screams and the hubbub of the parents barely cover the crackling sound system Dance Monkey.
In this small town of Yvelines near Versailles, almost 24% of people voted for Valérie Hayer’s Macronist list in the European elections, or 10 points more than the national average. The Glucksmann lists followed at 16.6% and Bellamy at 14.4%. With 14.1% of the votes, the Bardella list was at the foot of the podium. Here, the RN and LFI are shunned, given their national results. And we are two days before the first round of legislative elections.
The chilling wind of the coming elections
But at the fishing stand, we don’t talk about that. The mother of Louise*, 5, is taken aback that we dare to mention the legislative elections, even in a joking tone: “There’s a good atmosphere, it feels good before Sunday…” With all the firm tact that comes with the Versailles-like education that the inhabitants of this commune have received, she shows us the queue to buy the tokens to access 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, Dounia’s mother, 6 years old, who also has a sleeping baby on her back, doesn’t lose her smile when we talk about the elections but would especially like us to choose a cake: “Peanut brownie? Banana yogurt cake? Pancakes?” – No, nothing thanks. And by the way, these elections… – Oh but here tonight, it’s apolitical! Try the coconut flan, it’s very good…” At this word (“apolitical”, not “coconut flan”), Romane’s mother gets slightly carried away: “But come on, nothing is apolitical! Everything is political! For example, a fair buffet that doesn’t offer anything vegetarian, that’s political!” Forbidden silence… “But yes, there’s quiche here!” exclaims Dounia’s mother.
The punch prevents dissolution
We leave the hot dog stand – where the conversation turns to the difficulty of certain games that frustrate children – to join the punch planter. Undeniably one of the most popular among parents. However, it could have been censored: some parents were upset – but not too much – that children could see adults a little tipsy. “Oh? Muslims?” asks a dad who is on his second glass of punch. “No, just wet blankets,” replies a mom. “Hmm… This punch is good. Strong, but good.”
Could this very 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 support each other,” explains the mother of Danaé, 11 years old. This precarious balance which allows the city to be considered “calm and privileged” is what Victoria’s father, also 11 years old, cherishes most: “I don’t want to learn that one of my neighbors or that parents at the school voted for Le Pen. Although statistically, it is certain. If the RN passed 15% here, it would fuck 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 over and over again, it’s okay now,” says the mother of Sophie, 8 years old, annoyed, before turning on her heels towards the raffle draw. “Here, people are not racist but hey… There were a lot of volunteers to welcome the exiled Ukrainians, but when gypsies settle in, they call the town hall to complain,” says the father of Manon, 7 years old. .
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.
