Where We Are This Week: Tour de France Special

Emmanuel Macron gets his comeuppance and Mark Cavendish does the unthinkable.

Vichy France

The latest iteration of a politician not knowing the country in which they live is happening this week. If you’re thinking that I must be talking about the fact that both Donald Trump and Joe Biden (especially Joe Biden) are still running for president, then you’re right. That’s just not what I’m talking about right now.

What this segment will focus on is the brilliant mind of the political heart-throb — a word I’m less typing than I am saying — Emmanuel Macron.

Macron, who first assumed office in 2017 and is in the third year of his second term, has been the darling of the Left of Europe. Leading his people with draconian COVID restrictions and draining both their pocketbooks and freedoms with his commitment to the Paris Climate Accords, Macron has long been the apple of the eye of those at the World Economic Forum and the United Nations.

Like their Stockholm-syndromed counterparts in Canada and California with Trudeau and Newsom, France willingly reelected Macron to a second term in 2022. Undeterred by the underwhelming ‘successes’ and flagging economy of his first term, the French President has steamed ahead with an agenda that has only garnered the approval of a small subset of the French population.

Despite increasing problems with Islamic extremists who were welcomed via asylum or other naturalizing efforts, the French government has continued a policy of relatively open immigration. Macron was one of the quickest leaders to call for a ceasefire in Gaza and has repeatedly suggested deploying French troops to Ukraine to give Putin that classic French what-for or, as they would say, pour quoi.

The French people, who’ve basically done nothing but organize massive protests against the current administration since the yellow vest movement of the late 2010s, voiced their dissatisfaction when they voted in overwhelming support, 31.5%, of the country’s right-wing party National Rally to represent them in the parliament of the EU.

31.5%, by the way, isn’t an ‘overwhelming’ figure on all its own but when reminded that France has a cornucopia of major political parties, a plurality of nearly a third of the population is nothing to shake a stick at — so, put that stick down, mon frère.

In response to the embarrassing defeat, Macron called for snap elections. He dissolved the lower body of France’s Parliament and called for elections on June 30th. Macron maintained that the EU results were nothing short of a travesty and aberration; in his mind, the French public would right their wrong if only given the chance. Nothing like sneering in the face of your own citizens.

“The rise of nationalists and demagogues is a danger for our nation and for Europe,” Mr. Macron said. “After this day, I cannot go on as though nothing has happened.” He continued to say that it was a ‘weighty’ decision but ultimately, it was one of ‘trust.’

Anyone with a sense of comedic timing or irony could guess what happened next. Marine Le Pen’s National Rally party won 33% of the national vote, France’s Leftist party New Popular Front came in second, and Macron’s Renaissance Party came in a distant 3rd. Calling for these snap elections out of pure resentful reaction was about as wise as sticking a finger in the wind and deciding it’s a perfect day to fly a kite — nevermind those dark clouds in the sky.

What seems to be happening in France is the same thing that is happening all across Europe. In places like Italy, the Netherlands, Poland, and Hungary, populist right-wing movements have been gaining enormous traction.

As with American politics, this is likely a referendum on the current status quo than it is the entirety of a right-wing platform but it’s enough to make the European Left squirm.

In the States, the National Rally party has been unanimously described as ‘far-right.’ Granted, Marine Le Pen has done a lot of good to distance herself from the antisemitic rhetoric of her father (who founded the party) but Macron is considered to be a centrist. If that’s how far the center has moved in global politics then I saw John Fetterman doing the goose step.

The New York Times said that if the National Rally party were to capture a majority of seats in Parliament on this Sunday’s second round of the vote then it would be the first time since Vichy France that the nation would be under fascist rule. Thus completing everyone’s bingo cards with the tile of ‘NYT calls something they don’t like Hitler.’

The second most successful party in the snap election was the New Popular Front, a conglomeration of smaller leftist French parties that includes French Communist and Socialist parties yet, somehow, they weren’t labelled as far-left by the American press. I always thought that Lenin was just a middle-of-the-road pragmatic negotiator.

The political Overton Window has been blown apart so far that I’m not sure it’s accurate to label anyone far-left or far-right anymore. (Don’t worry, I still will — do as I say and all…)

It’s not shameful to be a communist like it used to be and when the public has grown so used to hearing ‘nazi’ thrown around as a cheap epithet that we don’t recognize actual Jew-hating nazis when they’re marching in the streets — looking at you Harvard students.

The backrooms of the internet where true far-right sympathizers used to reside have moved to Twitter — and sometimes congressional and senatorial races — and being a commie is as cool as it’s ever been — their uniform isn’t even drab anymore. I don’t trust popular appeal.

The rise of populism is what gave us Donald Trump and Joe Biden and their congressional corollaries of MTG and AOC, respectively. Their media counterparts like Candace Owens and Mehdi Hassan bundle a whole host of unsavory ideas into the political conversation that, because of the idiocy of the general public, will gain popularity. I can’t wait to see the whole ‘science is a pagan cult’ thing take off.

Populism seems like a good idea until the inevitable political persecution and violent scapegoating begins. You guys remember what was being said about the ‘unvaccinated’ in 2021, right?

It could be true that the National Rally party has some further-to-the-right members than others but that does not a fascist make. In this time of political upheaval in the West, citizens in every nation will have to steel themselves against strongmen, would-be-saviors, and charlatans alike or else face the consequences of creating a machine capable of destroying the one under which we currently live.

Macron is right when he indicates demagogues as a great danger to Europe, it’s telling, however, that he doesn’t count himself among them.

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The Manx Missile

For three weeks of every summer, I’m consumed. What used to be me plugging my ears as customers talked of the day’s race at the bike shop and sitting in my parents’ living room for hours on end has turned into me frantically watching precious minutes at a time or into the early hours of the morning.

The grand tours are like nothing else in sport and none are greater than the Tour de France.

The race is won by the best cyclists, the best climbers in the world. Over the last two decades, I’ve watched names like Chris Froome, Alberto Contador, and Lance Armstrong dominate the top step of the podium in Paris. But one name looms above all others; Mark Cavendish. The former riders spent the majority of their careers, or at least where they enjoyed most of their success, on one team.

Mark Cavendish is the greatest sprinter that cycling has ever produced. Year after year, I would watch Cav rocket to the front of the peloton with unparalleled consistency. Since 2008, he has become a Road World Champion, an Olympic gold medalist, and, most recently, the man to win the most stages of the Tour de France — the greatest sporting event in the world.

In 2020, the Briton looked as if his best years were behind him and he was on the brink of retirement as he was struggling to pick up a world tour contract. Injuries and sickness had contributed to his decline from the top of the sport. It was depressing for him. It was depressing for me and my parents. The joy and irreverence with which Cavendish handled himself on and off the bike were infectious and were sure to be missed if this was it.

The former fastest man in the world was offered a place on Deceuninck-Quick Step for the professional minimum wage of 40,000 euros — a deal that only a man with his resumé would take if he were that desperate to race again. After making his way back to the Tour by way of an injury to a teammate, Cavendish proceeded to defy all expectations and win four stages — bringing him level with the great Eddy Merckx. The next year, confoundingly, he was not selected for Quick Step’s Tour de France team.

In 2023, he found himself on yet another team, searching for the final stage win that would make the record for most Tour de France stage wins his alone, but broke his collarbone in the first week of the race; forcing him to abandon. I think I cried watching him being loaded into the ambulance.

If this was to be the end of the Manx Missile, it was the end of an era for me. It would make concrete the years between the last time I’d watched him win with my parents. Wayne Rooney and David Beckham were coaching and owning football teams. Kobe was gone. Cavendish was my last sporting connection to my childhood and I wasn’t ready to see him hang it up.

This summer with one more team under his belt, Mark Cavendish returned to France as a 39-year-old sprinter. That’s basically Methuselah in cycling terms.

It was going to be awful. Every stage that was meant for a sprint finish, I was going to be on pins and needles hoping for one more win. Every crash that happened in the peloton, I’d be searching for his jersey. Fortunately, none of us had to wait long.

On Stage 5, Wednesday morning, Mark Cavendish won his 35th Tour de France stage making him the sole record holder. You might not get it, and that’s okay. It’s strange the relationships we conjure with athletes and sports teams. Mark Cavendish isn’t just a cyclist to me, though.

In the post-race interview, the only thing he wanted to do in that moment was to see his wife and kids — and his teammates, of course. His former teammate — now a sporting director for his current team — was hoarse from celebrating. Moments later, Cavendish stood on the podium with his four kids and his wife in attendance.

When I first started watching him, Cav was a brash, arrogant, young professional who was hellbent on being a winner. Now, 16 years later, he’s a man who has experienced loss, depression, and severe setbacks, and while collecting his 35th trophy with his children in his arms, his priorities have clearly undergone a massive recalibration. Greatness personified.

The Tour isn’t close to finished, but now, my parents and I will, now, watch freed of the anxiety that a tangle of spokes might get in the way of fate. In a sport where the gulf between the professional and the average person is wider than the Grand Canyon, Cavendish’s displays of mortality have only made him that much more admirable.

Cycling, and the Tour de France in particular, are made for grand narratives. Myths are made in the Alps and legends are born on the Champs-Élysées. The Tour pits man against his opponent, himself, and the most inhospitable of terrain. In Cavendish’s own words, “The Tour de France, it’s bigger than cycling, isn’t it?” It may take three weeks of your time but it gives back much more in return.

It’s given me my last hero. 35 stage wins and counting, and I’ve seen them all. Some things change, but others are timeless. I may have been watching this latest moment of triumph in the quiet of my living room while my wife and child were asleep but it felt as if I were back at my parents’ house, the three of us shouting at the television, and nothing else but that moment mattered.

To a better next week,

Godspeed,

FDA