We never tire of this double candidacy of Sandrine Rousseau in the 9th constituency of Paris. Every time I think about it, I burst out laughing. You must be aware, all the gazettes have talked about it. On the one hand, Sandrine Rousseau, candidate for the legislative elections under the Nupes label, a figure now known in the French political landscape, a skilled wokist, happy wife of a deconstructed husband. On the other, Sandrine Rousseau, candidate in the legislative elections under the label of the Mouvement de la ruralité, Norman childcare assistant and defender of rural France.

Apart from their sex and their name, everything opposes them: Sandrine Rousseau hates wind turbines as much as Sandrine Rousseau loves them; Sandrine Rousseau is passionate about visible minorities as Sandrine Rousseau cares about rural French people; Sandrine Rousseau claims ecofeminism while Sandrine Rousseau may not even know what it is. If we had to define the perfect political antagonist of Sandrine Rousseau, I would say: Sandrine Rousseau.

This hilarious homonym does not make the Nupes laugh, which speaks of electoral scrambling, crimes against democracy and attempted destabilization. I think they go a bit overboard. If it can reassure them, their Sandrine Rousseau is inimitable, there is no risk of confusing her with anyone else, even with Sandrine Rousseau.

And then Mr. Darmanin’s services, which always do things well (except at the Stade de France, but you can’t be perfect all the time), have planned to distinguish the Sandrine Rousseau bulletins from the Sandrine Rousseau bulletins by mentioning the gone ; no thoughtlessness is to be feared, which would deprive the Nupes of votes for Sandrine Rousseau.

In a pinch, I’m willing to concede that the situation is irritating, in that all the time spent having fun with its absurd side – as I am doing now – is not spent thinking seriously to the proposals of the candidate Sandrine Rousseau. On the other hand, I wonder if it isn’t better for her, and if what she presents as sabotage isn’t rather a blessing.

The Sandrine Rousseau duel makes me think that political life would be more fun if homonymy were widespread there. Homonymy, an inexhaustible vein of gags of all kinds, a golden spare wheel for scriptwriters at a loss for ideas, would give magnificent results in politics, because of the strong opinions that are given way there, and the bellicose tone that we employ there.

Imagine the Wednesday question session if seven or eight Gérald Darmanin, sitting on the benches of the Assembly, each in a different group, took turns at the microphone to question Gérald Darmanin! Or if Bruno Le Maire was invited to debate on a set with Bruno Le Maire, Bruno Le Maire, Bruno Le Maire and Bruno Le Maire, all of them in a different party! Or if Ms. Borne, resigning from Matignon after losing the legislative elections, was replaced at short notice by Ms. Borne – another -, pulled from the same magic hat from which Mr. Macron released Pap Ndiaye!

It would obviously be a mess, but we would draw philosophical lessons from it on the relativity of opinions, on the fact that no one is unique or irreplaceable, and on the mysteries of destiny which drives people apart through ideas whom it has brought together through the name. This would be an opportunity to quote, too, the magnificent sentence of François Caradec: we all have the same last name, except for a few letters.

As for the voters, they would derive a subtle pleasure from it, that of being able to openly display their preferences while remaining ambiguous. If I lived in the 9th district of Paris, I don’t think I could resist it: I would say loud and clear that I vote for Sandrine Rousseau, regretting in passing that there is not a third.