If you want a tale of unapologetic political mastery, look no further than Achille Fould. Fould, a typical example of a financially astute individual in mid-19th century France, was an economic and political shark at a time when France was in the throes of industrial expansion. Born on November 17, 1800, in Paris, he carved a name for himself when others were faltering in economic vivacity. By the time the French government needed a financial backbone in the 1840s and 1850s, Fould came in and took the reins like a man on a mission, becoming a notable Finance Minister.
Fould started his journey as a banker, always having a flair for figures and finances. He was a classic conservative, focused on economic stability and growth, advocating for a liberal economy in the Napoleonic sense—purely in the laissez-faire style where the government minimizes interference in business. Fould understood that bureaucrats meddling in the economy helped no one. He worked tirelessly to ensure that the state's coffers were reliable to support national economic agendas. This is a contrast to what the modern liberal might dream of—massive state intervention and endless taxpayer-fed welfare schemes.
Fould's notable influence came with the rise of Napoleon III. Perhaps he saw eye to eye with Fould on this unmitigated, business-first attitude. As Finance Minister, Fould was instrumental in securing the economic stability of France, negotiating with financiers, and streamlining bureaucratic excesses. His unwavering commitment to reducing taxes and trimming government excess seems radical in today's eyes, but wasn’t that what kept France's financial heart beating during the Second Empire?
During Napoleon III's regime, the French economy witnessed substantial growth. As taxation was prudently managed and industrialization fostered, Fould was there, championing the cause. He saw opportunity while others hesitated. Industrialists cheered; entrepreneurs flourished. His policies laid a foundation for the free market to thrive, allowing producers rather than bureaucrats to guide economic destiny. Here we have a man who facilitated, rather than intercepted, national progress. Fould’s strategy was simple yet profoundly effective: cut through red tape, and let the captains of industry steer their own ship.
Was he a fan of debt? Not in the liberal sense which sees national debt as an indefinite resource. Fould managed the national debt with the sharp eye of a banker, knowing when to issue and when to collect. His meticulous approach to management reflected his personal life, where he maintained a distaste for frivolity, both in public finances and social circles.
Aside from economics, Fould was a connoisseur of art and culture, yet he approached this with the same prudence he did a state budget. His support of the arts was measured, supporting initiatives that stimulated French cultural prestige without draining resources. In this manner, he promoted national pride and cultural refinement simultaneously.
One couldn't accuse Fould of lacking a backbone. His commitment to his financial conservative beliefs often caused friction. When Napoleon III flirted with more progressive policies, Fould didn’t shy away from criticism. He wasn’t afraid to step down from his ministerial position when policies diverged from conservative fiscal prudence, only to return when financial sense was reinstated. Such was his conviction.
In an era predating social media and the 24-hour news cycle, Fould possessed a rare clarity. No need for breathless rhetoric. His actions spoke volumes, breaking from the need to pander incessantly for approval—a practice many modern conservatives can only aspire to emulate. This ability to act decisively without needing to poll-test every decision might be a remnant of a political golden age, now eroded by those on the opposite side of today’s aisle.
Fould's legacy is an example for any conservative dreaming of a return to a time when sound financial decision-making led to true national prosperity. It's a reminder that sometimes the best government is the one that knows when to step back and let the market work its magic. In a world clamoring for more intervention, Fould's minimalist approach offers a counter-narrative—that success lies not in how much the government does, but in how efficiently it paves the way for society to succeed on its own.