Jack Lang MARTIN BUREAU/AFP/« LE MONDE »
T
o be blunt, Jack Lang's fall is also his triumph. Had he served as François Mitterrand's foreign trade minister, he would have slipped, like so many others, into the trash can of history. But his impact on France's cultural landscape is so profound that, at 86, he remains a central figure – a feat in itself – fueling a torrent of commentary since his name has saturated the emails of the American sexual predator Jeffrey Epstein, ultimately forcing him to step down as president of Arab World Institute.
The courts will now determine the nature of any links between Lang and Epstein. Investigations will reveal whether he left unpaid bills at hotels or restaurants, and if so, how many. Public opinion has already weighed in – this is nothing new – and is raising a question: Why does the best culture minister in French history, respected even abroad, never convicted nor even formally charged, provoke such visceral reactions, even hatred, when not being accused outright of sexual crimes?
The answer lies in the man himself – flamboyant and exasperating, persistent and vain – who, beginning in 1981, led a swashbuckling cultural policy, upending norms and even challenging Mitterrand himself in his haste. The close partnership with his wife, Monique, left a trail of frustration, humiliation and jealousy. For the past ten days, former culture ministers, paralyzed by the lingering presence of a "king without a crown" still acting as if though he held the culture portfolio, have unleashed vitriol against him – vitriol as intense as their own records are thin.
