France’s national sport being politics, it’s no wonder Les Bleus have often polarised opinion and been a headache for all coaches who have tried to tame them.

De Gaulle once famously said that “a country with 365 cheeses in ungovernable” and he was right. Too many factions, too many would-be rulers, too much corruption, too many ideals which are hardly achievable in today’s world.

If you also take into account that the only way the French resolve issues is through conflicts, demonstrations, strikes or riots, you understand why the country will always struggle to realise its true potential.

Facebook Twitter Whatsapp Reddit Email Share

And this is also valid for rugby. France’s rugby roots are in the countryside, more precisely in the south west part of the country. In this respect, French rugby and its ‘Lords’ are the modern Asterix, with Paris, the IRB, the FFR and professional rugby as a whole being today’s Romans, a central power who wants to dictate its rules – its new way of life.

Thing is, French rugby is still an amateur sport at heart as historically, small towns have been forever leading the show. Paris, Marseille, Lille, Lyon, Strasbourg, Nantes etc, the country’s big cities, have always had a minor role at best, in the nation’s rugby destiny.

Imagine Australia with influential teams in Katherine, Dubbo, Kalgoorlie or Darwin and no team in Brisbane, Melbourne or Sydney. That’s what we’ve got in France.

Needless to say, as a consequence, our ‘rules’ were very different to those in place in other countries: endemic violence, corruption (Serge Blanco is now officially renamed ‘Blancorleone’ in French rugby circles), home reffing de rigueur, a third half as important than the match itself. The country was simply not cut for professionalism.

French rugby is all about having a good time with your mates, eating and drinking (a lot), all in brawls etc. Having a slow day at work? Go to Youtube, type in ‘rugby’ and add any of those terms “bagarres, bastons, bagarres generales” and you’ll see what was rugby for us at all levels.

When professionalism was introduced and that the IRB decided to enforce new ‘worldwide’ rules, we knew the rugby we had forever known would slowly disappear and that our national team would struggle on the international scene.



It was time for our anarchic and ‘romantic’ ways to go – yes, we see romanticism in having a drink and a bite, post-match, with the bloke we assaulted on the pitch 20 minutes earlier.

In this context, the helm of the ship has always been seen as a ‘poisonous gift’ for coaches selected to lead the national team. Traditional smallish south-western clubs often want someone ‘from the heartland’ to keep rugby’s values alive while Toulouse, as French rugby’s capital, favour a home-grown leader.

Different factions in Paris, Toulon, the Basque and Catalan regions may want ‘one of their own’ for the top job. In this Australian Labor Party-like context in terms of cohesion (or lack thereof) and internal rivalries, it’s easy to understand the kind of pressure national coaches are under when they start their job.

Already, Philippe Saint-Andre’s post Rugby World Cup replacement is discussed but no one’s happy with the local options. Guy Noves is too ‘Toulouse”, Toulon’s Bernard Laporte too involved in rugby’s politics (plus he already had a go), Italy’s Jacques Brunel good but not ‘good enough’ while the others don’t have the bottle and experience for such a job.

The only realistic internal candidate seems to be Fabien Galthié: he is from the south west, has played and coached for Stade Francais (Paris) and is now back in the south at Montpellier where he is chalking up great results. For all this, he has to be the frontrunner.

Having said that, many supporters have voiced their preference for a foreign alternative thinking it’s time to break the downward spiral and endemic internal rivalries.

‘Mr Right’ needs to speak French, understand the particularities of the country, be bold, charismatic and decisive yet respectful of all factions involved.

I know, doesn’t sound easy. Before his appointment at the Scotland job, kiwi Vern Cotter was the obvious choice but bringing him back to France after only 18 months with the Scots seems unachievable. Jake White, Todd Blackadder or even Robbie Deans have the CV required but may not have the connections and understanding of the country and the language necessary for the job. Nick Mallett (who coached in France at Stade Francais), Warren Gatland or even Pumas’ Daniel Hourcade may also be on the radar but they have to be outside chances considering their current commitments.



In any case, France has never been more ready to welcome a foreign coach. After all, the French have had plenty of opportunities to familiarise themselves with foreign coaches and players in the domestic competitions and being a native Anglophone is no longer taboo in Frogland.

Time for another revolution perhaps?