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In March, the French nation breathed a little easier. The Organisation Internationale de la Francophonie (OIF) delivered some unexpectedly good news: the number of French speakers in the world was now more than 200 million, the first time this symbolic threshold had ever been crossed.
The OIF, which has a budget of €22 million ($40.25 million), issues this bean-counting assessment every two years - and the report is picked over by French policymakers, the media and much of the public like Roman soothsayers poring over the entrails of a chicken.
The reason: Use of the French language is considered a vital barometer of France's standing in the world. Status is an issue that has become a national obsession and it courses river-like through the country's presidential election campaign. The first round of voting for the five-year term as head of state takes place on Sunday, with a runoff two weeks later.
That there should be such worry about national standing may come as a surprise to the rest of the world, which has become accustomed to hearing of the "French exception," that France is a country with a unique status, standing tall and self-confidently asserting its interests.
After all, France has an independent nuclear arsenal. It has overseas territories that stretch from the northwest Atlantic and South America to Antarctica and Polynesia. Its military has boots on the ground in former colonies in Africa. It is a founder member of the European Union and a driver of European integration. It is the main force behind Europe's space programme and the world's biggest airliner and makes record-breaking passenger trains. French haute couture, perfumes and cosmetics rule the world and French cuisine is a global benchmark of culinary taste.
Then there was that moment when France refused to back the US-led war on Iraq in 2003, wielding the threat of a veto at the UN Security Council.
And yet: more and more French people see their country in decline, and less and less capable of dealing with external challenges. A monthly poll of 1000 respondents by TNS-Sofres routinely suggests that two-thirds of the public believe France's role in the world is weakening. And heading the list of demons is globalisation, deemed a threat to jobs, businesses, traditions and the welfare system. According to a survey last year by the EU's opinion-poll unit Eurobarometer, 64 per cent of the French - the highest percentage in Europe - consider globalisation to be negative.
"In France, there is a particular strain of melancholy," said philosopher Chantal Delsol. "The British tell themselves,'We are no longer a great power, so we will live as a middle one.' But the French don't say that. They say: 'We are intrinsically a great power, so why isn't it working in reality?' For a while we try to shut our eyes, but that doesn't work for long. When reality truly dawns, then the first phase is extreme sadness, and that is the phase we are in now."
The malaise has percolated through the campaign of all 12 men and women bidding for the Elysee Palace. On the far right, National Front leader Jean-Marie Le Pen appeals strongly to poor whites nostalgic for past glory and economic growth. He is making a pitch on rolling back European integration, dumping the euro and stopping immigration.
His campaign has prompted the likely leader in the first voting round, conservative Nicolas Sarkozy, to play the patriotic card, vowing to set up a "ministry of immigration and national identity. "Sarkozy talks of a "France that is suffering" but insists the country "is never more ready to deliver a surprise than when one believes it is in decline."
On the left, the Socialists' candidate, Segolene Royal, has wrapped herself, almost literally, in the tricolore. She has called for every home to have a national flag and leads her supporters at rallies in singing the Marseillaise. She wants any companies which outsource jobs and receive state aid to reimburse those subsidies. With candidates to Royal's left, the pitch is not on patriotism but on beefing up handouts and passing laws to protect against "delocalisation," as job outsourcing is called.
In their quest for the nationalist vote, candidates have notably refused to speak up for Europe, as their predecessors have done for the last half century. A proposed EU constitution was emphatically ditched by French voters in a 2005 referendum, and many French people appear to feel that the EU's "Big Bang" enlargement from 15 to 27 countries has left their country less capable of policing its borders against poor or illegal immigrants or criminals.
To a large degree, whoever takes France's helm next month will find limited room to manoeuvre. Assuming 78-year-old Le Pen is not elected, the next president will be the first who will not have experienced World War II, and will inherit a country with less sovereignty than at any time in its unoccupied history.
In return for the benefits of closer European integration, France - like the other members of the EU - has had to transfer swathes of national authority to Brussels. It also has to deal with the power of the global market, with its tides of investment flows that can make or break economic reforms. In addition, parliamentary elections are due to take place in June, and the outcome of this may further crimp the future president's clout.
Despite all this, the next president can be expected to vigorously fight France's corner. France will continue to use its permanent seat on the UN Security Council and its influence within the EU to punch above its weight. It will continue to deploy its military in pursuit of national or allied interests. It will continue to subsidise the overseas terroritories and fund the OIF, the news channel France 24 and other organisations that promote francophone culture. It will continue to have rows with the European Commission about its aid for national champions.
And no-one should underestimate France's potential for a rebound: it is the world's fifth biggest economy, the second biggest source of foreign direct investment and the fourth largest exporter of goods. It has a varied economy, excellent infrastructure, highly trained workforce and a landscape and climate that truly makes it the land of plenty. The "French exception" will remain: you can bet on it.
