It was under thunderous applause and loud cheers that Rima Abdul Malak, outgoing Minister of Culture, entered the crowded lounges of the ministry’s marshals, for the transfer of power. After twenty months at the helm, Rima Abdul Malak gave way to Rachida Dati, named to everyone’s surprise to take over. “I understand that my appointment may come as a surprise,” admitted Nicolas Sarkozy’s former Minister of Justice in front of all the leaders and senior officials of Culture. Before adding: “It doesn’t surprise me, it responds to a need for a popular France, it’s an everyday fight, in a world where there are many challenges.”
Little aware of the twists and turns of the environment, the new Minister of Culture was in her small shoes, a posture that is hardly known to her. She has also prudently placed herself under the thumb of André Malraux, adopting one of the leitmotifs of this great tutelary figure: “A culture which makes the capital works of Humanity available to as many people as possible.”
That said, she has lifted a corner of the veil on what her era on rue de Valois would be like. “Everyone knows that I like to fight, don’t be afraid, I will defend the cultural exception,” she said, to everyone’s satisfaction. Isn’t Rachida Dati known for her outbursts against Anne Hidalgo during the Paris municipal councils? The same morning, on RTL, the former Minister of Culture Frédéric Mitterrand had decided: regardless of the fact that Dati “knows nothing” about culture, the important thing is to be surrounded by “a very strong with strong nerves.
Terrible observation for the ministry, which understands that a page is being turned. After the worker-monk-soldier, who wanted to be loyal and faithful to the President of the Republic and wanted to be one with the artists, another pattern is put in place. Its contours are not yet very clear, as Dati-the-gungirl seemed so reserved, behind her microphone. There is no doubt that she will regain her ability to “open it” if the Élysée and Matignon let her do so.
With her face turned down, Rima Abdul Malak put on a more than good face, showing herself smiling and “proud of what she was able to accomplish” in front of the pale members of her cabinet. “Twenty months ago, I said that becoming a minister was not a dream, on the contrary being free and staying that way,” she said. I served an ambition in which I believed, and I remained free.” Before listing his “advances”, including the creation of the National Music Center, solid budgets, or female appointments.
She, who was said to be “not very political” and a bit techno, wanted “to be a political woman, differently”. No doubt she did not realize how difficult it is for a minister to oppose a President of the Republic, especially if he is not elected and if he owes his rise to him. No doubt, she also did not understand that the energy put into the task, she who did not count her hours, did not do everything. She will therefore not have succeeded in “outwitting the two-year curse” (which means that a Minister of Culture cannot last beyond that).
Before leaving, she read a poem by the writer Andrée Chedid – originally from Lebanon like her -, entitled Season of Men. Suspended moment when we heard these words resonate: “Knowing that she will be taken away from us, I marvel at believing in our season, and that our hearts each time refuse the ultimate shipwreck. That tomorrow can count, when everything is abandoned.”
We don’t know what the future holds, for one or the other, but the arrival of a divisive right-wing personality on rue de Valois promises some battles. Friday morning, some were delighted, others on the contrary saw it as a sign of the political disinterest of the Élysée for this renowned left-wing milieu.
