First, there is this theater set, where the curtains conceal as much as they reveal. These blue armchairs which surround the stage of the Sorbonne, borrowed for the occasion from the Parisian hotel of the Crillon. On September 3, 1992, two weeks before the referendum on the Maastricht Treaty, François Mitterrand entered the arena for the first time.
The stakes are crucial: his close adviser, Jacques Pilhan, has been warning him for several weeks about the risk of dropping out of the yes vote in the polls. In his dressing room where he receives the last touches of make-up, the Head of State probes his Minister for European Affairs, Élisabeth Guigou: “How would you sum it all up in one sentence?” Before cutting short: “Good… Basically, union is strength.”
The president faces the herald of no, Philippe Séguin, to whom he had conceded a few months earlier the holding of a referendum. Between the two men, that evening, it is two France who face each other on the set of TF1. “We have to try to understand what is happening right now in the country,” tempers the one who leads the sling on the right, with Charles Pasqua and Philippe de Villiers.
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The RPR deputy from the Vosges firmly refuses the abandonment of the franc, provided for in the treaty, which he considers a loss of national sovereignty. “Does Maastricht fix things or does Maastricht make them worse?” he continues, reverting to his teacher tone. But the president does not like to play master and student, especially when it is he who is asked the questions. “You know my answer,” he says. Would I have proposed this treaty to the French if I did not have the deep conviction that Maastricht controls our future, and in the best way?
Faced with the thick build of the mayor of Épinal, François Mitterrand becomes an impassive sphinx, his hands resting on the table. “There are many French people who are committed to the European idea and who cannot accept this treaty”, explains the parliamentarian. The socialist questions him in return, frowning: “I think this is your case?” “I probably am,” he agrees. And the president to close the trap: “Probably only?”
Laughter on the benches of the ministers present. Philippe Séguin then knows he is defeated. “François Mitterrand had entered into a fight of which he alone had the secret”, recalls the presenter of the program “Aujourd’hui l’Europe”, Guillaume Durand. In the headset of the host, the boss of the channel, Étienne Mougeotte, exults: “Something incredible is happening.”
Perched in the bleachers of the Sorbonne, Henri Guaino attends the scene, circumspect. “Nothing was quite natural, it was a strange moment”, recalls this faithful of the social Gaullist, without understanding precisely what is happening at the moment. Philippe Séguin, he knows the tragedy that takes place behind the scenes. When he arrives in the basement of the amphitheater, before the start of the debate, the former minister of Jacques Chirac sees a medical team at the bedside of his opponent.
The blanket of silence that still surrounds the president’s cancer breaks before his eyes. “It paralyzed Séguin, says Guillaume Durand. He was deeply affected, which explains why he was not the assassin expected by the right. Because the swordsman holds back his blows, unfolds his arguments in a warm and slow voice. “There was in him both respect for the institution and that of the sick man”, justifies Henri Guaino. Nothing, except this emaciated face, however betrays the presidential disease.
Weakened but not defeated, François Mitterrand does not fail to shoot a few arrows. “As for the treaty that you have in front of you, it is a good precaution. But I know him quite well. No need to have it!”, he attacks, pointing to the files of his opponent. “I didn’t negotiate it. That’s why I’m taking him,” Philippe Séguin immediately sweeps away.
While nearly 10 million French people are gathered in front of their television, the referendum campaign changes. Eyes riveted on his teleprompter, Guillaume Durand counts the minutes: “The more the program progressed, the more we felt the transfer of the voices of no to those of yes.” On September 20, 1992, adherence to the Maastricht Treaty ended up winning the wire with 51.04% of the vote.
The defeat remains across the throat of the sovereignists, who accuse their leader of having thrown down their arms. Even surprised by a rival he thought was weakened, Philippe Séguin will have no remorse for this sequence. “On the contrary, he was proud to have debated with the President of the Republic. It was a consecration,” recalls Henri Guaino. Like a trophy without victory, the round table debate has long been enthroned in its town hall in Épinal.