Politicians who make people 'happy'? Why France's 35,000 local mayors are so trusted

Thanks to her Irish father, she has the holy grail of dual citizenship, which means that last Sunday she was eligible for election to the Duravel council and I was there to watch her transformation from ordinary citizen to a member of the French political class.

I laughed when she first told me she had been approached to stand. She had spent more than a decade working at the top of the Scottish Government, a job that had left her distinctly sceptical of politicians of all shades. But, she explained, after five years in her idyllic village in the Lot, with its friendly bar, ancient church and vineyards, she was ready to give something back.

She already volunteered in the local community (commune), helping among other things to establish a monthly market outside the Mairie (town hall). Joining the new mayor’s team was the next logical step. And thanks to a rule that does not allow party lists for communes with a population of under 1,000, the election for her village council was not tainted by partisan politics.

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Gender balanced and not party political

There was no hard-right ticket, no socialists standing. Just 15 residents from a range of backgrounds who wanted to make a difference. The mayoral candidate, Phillipe Plantade, and his colleague, Eric Bessou, had put together a list of people they thought had something to offer. Alison was delighted, if slightly apprehensive, to accept.

So, armed with her new Air Pods which translate the more technical French she will likely encounter at meetings – she has already had to get to grips with storm drains – from tomorrow she will officially become ‘une conseillère municipale’ (a councillor).

For the next seven years, she will be part of the new mayor’s team – a team by the way that is gender-balanced. Under French electoral rules, candidate lists must be 50/50 men and women, making it one of the fairest systems in Europe, unlike in Scotland where councils are still dominated by men – only 35 per cent of Scottish councillors are women.

Scotland’s impotent provosts

There is another significant difference between French local government and how we run our cities and communities – the power of the mayor. There are nearly 35,000 mayors in France, and while they do wear a ceremonial sash (écharpe tricolore) in the red, white and blue of the French flag for official functions like marriages and chairing council meetings, their role is far more powerful than that of a provost, resplendent in his chain of office but quite impotent.

French mayors have significant powers and responsibilities and not just at a local level. While the new mayor of Duravel will control the council’s budget, manage any staff and issue planning permissions, he is also the official representative of the French state, responsible for public order and the administration of elections, and has regulatory powers for public health and safety.

In simple terms, in France a mayor – even one in charge of a small village such as Duravel – governs with the authority of the state, while in Scotland, council leaders have the power of oversight but are more limited in their jurisdiction.

Trust in politics

Does it matter? With trust in politics and politicians at an all-time low, arguably it matters a lot. A recent study showed that mayors are by far the most trusted elected officials in France. Confidence in the position stands at 70 per cent – polling figures that our politicians, local or national, can only dream of.

The report’s author, Martial Foucault, a political scientist at the Paris Institute of Political Studies, told French public radio that the level of trust in mayors is so high it can withstand any crisis – even national ones – and he argued that the mayoral system made people more “optimistic”.

“Even if it's not the answer to all problems, the local level perhaps provides a democratic – and personal – breathing space that helps create a little more happiness than when we look at things on a bigger scale,” he said.

Politicians creating 'happiness’? Whatever next, cochons volant? But observing the count last Sunday in the same room where I had watched the parliamentary elections unfold two years ago, I was struck at the strong sense of community and common cause.

‘Duravel welcomed me’

Unlike our election counts, which are closed to the public – even one for a single council ward – the French count their votes in the open. Everyone and anyone can watch the mayor carefully read out each ballot paper, while tellers mark up the votes.

Children and visiting Scots are welcome, as long as they are quiet. Two years ago, when the count was for parliamentary elections unexpectedly called by President Macron, there were no party activists on view. Just voters intently watching the democracy their ancestors had fought for in 1789 unfold in plain sight.

As I left Alison on Wednesday, I wished her well in her new role. When she moved to France in 2020, she had no plans beyond finding a house within her budget and avoiding Covid. Six years later, she is about to become a councillor in the beautiful French village that has become her home. “Duravel welcomed me,” she says. “Now I want to say thank you and work for the village.”

There are many things we can learn from the French, from the joy of lunch to the thrill of classic handbags, but perhaps the biggest lesson is how to deliver local democracy. Imagine councils that make people happy… no, me neither, which is a shame. Vive la France.