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But does Macron really hate nicknames or informality? Mr President can be very familiar with his staff: they affectionately call him “le boss”. He says “tu”, the informal French “you” to many politicians, including Vladimir Putin. As a young minister, Macron would to colleagues with the catchphrase: “Salut ma poule, c’est Manu” (“Hey, love, it’s Manu”). Macron can be “Manu”, but only when he decides so.
On 14 May 2017, “Manu” became Mr President. In a little over a year as president, Macron has demonstrated his love for power symbolism, of which formal address is an essential part. After a general spoke publicly of his dissatisfaction at the army’s share of the budget last year, Macron bluntly reminded French troops that he was their “boss”.
But the teenager’s dressing-down comes as the president himself has been criticised for using insensitive language: in the past, he has called , protesters against his labour law reforms , and has said that employees fired from a company should look for a job instead of (“foutre le bordel”, a coarse expression best translated as “making a fucking mess”). Just last week, he was filmed complaining that the French welfare state costs a . (Each time, Mr President admitted his words had been blunt, but stood by his remarks.)
During his visit to the US in April, he : “You don’t always have to follow the rules. That’s bullshit!” Yet the rules, apparently, still apply if you are French.
Macron campaigned on a young and ostensibly “cool” platform – his team, full of 20-somethings, ruled social media and were all fluent in English. Now, as president, Macron has cut housing aid for students, made university selective, and lectured youngsters on how to address him. The double standard is confusing to young people: are they to think he is an accessible president they can address as “tu”, or is he as strict and close-minded as previous ones? Does he want a “startup nation”, or is he too attached to ancient institutions?
The teen, who was attending with his friends, was breezy and provocative. But he is just a kid – a kid who looked genuinely excited to meet the president, who was both daring and politically aware enough to sing L’Internationale at his own country’s leader, and who is now ashamed and avoiding school because all the others kids are making fun of the video. If anything, after grand speeches about how French youth is the future, Macron should have praised his bravado. Instead, his reply sounded childish, too.
It’s especially tone-deaf because “Manu” is a positive nickname. It’s shorthand for the nice kid who smokes weed, or the friendly, guitar-playing camp counsellor – someone young, someone cool, someone who gets it, man. In fiction and popular culture, “Manu” is always the best friend – from kids’ comic character Titeuf to the eponymous 1980s song, an ode to friendship by singer Renaud. A teenager calling Macron “Manu” doesn’t constitute disrespect: his warm casualness conveys affection, it addresses the president’s most “normal” side. Maybe that is why Macron, who has worked hard to break from his predecessor, “normal president” François Hollande, didn’t appreciate the banter.
Mr President’s harsh words have made one thing very clear: he is not your mate at all.