Kelly’s Eye

THE staggering vanity of Emmanuel Macron has been a gratefully acknowledged source of material for this column since he became president of France four years ago. The comparison with that other monument to self-love, Donald Trump, has always proved irresistible.

The French have never been terribly enamoured of Macron – only 42 per cent of them bothered to vote at all last time they went to the polls.

Now he’s up for re-election and has clearly concluded the best way to whip up support is to behave like un coq of the most headless variety, and most predictably towards the easiest target for any French politico: the neighbours across the Channel.

Over the past year, Macron has trashed the Oxford AstraZeneca vaccine, thrown a spectacular tantrum about the Aukus treaty signed between ourselves, the US and Australia, which saw a French submarine deal with the latter cancelled, and threatened to cut off the power supply to Jersey while impounding our trawlers.

The latest hissy fit is about Britain having the temerity to keep out of its own waters a handful of French boats that have never previously fished there, and are blatantly trying it on.

Had Trump thrown just one of those strops, it isn’t difficult to imagine the confected horror that would have ensued, not least from those mainstream TV channels for whom no supposedly impartial report about their bête orange was complete without pantomime eye-rolling and head-shaking.

Macron’s equally bonkers antics, by contrast, are recounted without any such animus and, on the contrary, manage to convey the impression that it would be much more agreeable all round if the UK backed down a bit.

No matter how often the French president lashes out in an attempt to mollify his jaundiced electorate, he can always rely on his media cheerleaders here.