Dominique de Villepin: The “Man of the South” Eyeing a Return to French Politics in 2027
In the quiet Moroccan town of Khemisset, a French child was born who would one day shake the halls of the United Nations and become one of the most talked-about figures in modern French politics. That child was Dominique de Villepin. For many, his name conjures a single, powerful image: a man standing tall before the world in 2003, his sharp features set with conviction, using his dramatic, almost poetic, oratory to deliver a resounding “No” to the looming American war in Iraq. He argued against an invasion of a sovereign nation, questioning the lack of hard evidence for weapons of mass destruction. In that moment, de Villepin became the face of French courage, a symbol of defiance against unchecked global power.
Today, the man who became a household name for his bold stance is quietly re-emerging on the political scene. Known as the “man of the South” in the North, a nod to his deep understanding of global dynamics beyond the traditional Western view, de Villepin is positioning himself for a potential run for the French presidency in 2027. His journey has been anything but ordinary—a life shaped by diplomacy, poetry, scandal, and an unshakeable belief in his own destiny. To understand his possible return, you have to understand the man himself, a figure who has always walked his own path, often in the middle of the street rather than on the sidewalk.
From a Moroccan Childhood to the World Stage
Dominique de Villepin was not Moroccan by heritage, but by birth. He was the son of a French diplomat and senator, Xavier de Villepin, and his childhood was a whirlwind tour of the globe. From Morocco, the family moved to New York and then to Caracas, Venezuela. His world had no borders, and his dreams were just as vast. Growing up surrounded by stacks of newspapers, magazines, and books, he was immersed in the world of current events. He would listen intently to the speeches of Fidel Castro and John F. Kennedy, sometimes moved to tears by their power. “I fell into this world,” he once said, “and was nourished by the great speeches of great leaders.”
Interestingly, his earliest ambition wasn’t to become president or a foreign minister, but a priest. In the summer of the late 1960s, a ten-year-old de Villepin stood in his schoolyard, a stack of papers in hand, addressing his classmates with the fervor of a preacher, his arms outstretched as if mimicking Christ on the cross. His cousins laughed and told him, “You won’t be a priest; you’ll be the president of France.” He corrected them later in life, insisting his dream was always the former. This spiritual and philosophical leaning would remain a core part of his character, a deep-seated humanism that would later inform his political views.
His childhood was rich with literature, history, poetry, and mathematics, but it was also marked by an early tragedy. At 19, his brother Eric died from an epileptic seizure. Finding himself standing before his brother’s body, Dominique was confronted with the fragility of life, a profound experience that shaped his perspective from a young age. He forged ahead, carving a path through France’s most prestigious institutions, Sciences Po and the École Nationale d’Administration (ENA), where he was known for being different. He was often unshaven, a non-conformist who seemed to live in a world of ideas. From the very beginning, Africa captivated him—its art, its stories, its legends. He specifically requested to work on African files at the Foreign Ministry, cementing his reputation early on as a “man of the South,” someone who refused to be confined by the traditional lines drawn by the North.
The Diplomat Who Dared to Say “No”
De Villepin was never just a dreamy intellectual lost in books; he was also a man who understood and sought power. In 2002, he became France’s Foreign Minister, and a story from his time in office perfectly captures his unique, unflappable demeanor. He was in Côte d’Ivoire, having dinner with President Laurent Gbagbo amidst a fiery rebellion. The country was in turmoil after Gbagbo had refused to accept election results. As the heated discussion raged on, de Villepin suddenly stood up, walked over to a painting on the wall, and calmly said to his host, “This is a Flemish painting.” The president disagreed. Without missing a beat, de Villepin took the painting off the wall, turned it over, and pointed to the Flemish artist’s signature. He then returned to the table and resumed the high-stakes diplomatic conversation as if nothing had happened, while the streets of Abidjan were boiling over.
This cool, intellectual confidence was on full display in his career-defining moment at the UN Security Council. His speech against the Iraq War wasn’t just a political statement; it was a performance. It resonated globally and is still remembered, more than two decades later, as a powerful defense of diplomacy over conflict. This moment elevated him to a new level of prominence and set the stage for his appointment as Prime Minister of France in 2005 under President Jacques Chirac. However, his time at the top would be marked by one of the most bitter rivalries in modern French politics.
Rivalry, Scandal, and a Life After Politics
As Prime Minister, de Villepin found himself in a constant battle with his ambitious and relentless rival, Nicolas Sarkozy. The two men were polar opposites in style and substance, and their animosity became legendary. Sarkozy, then Minister of the Interior, left de Villepin little room to breathe, a conflict that culminated in the infamous Clearstream affair. This complex political scandal, involving false accusations of secret bank accounts, effectively destroyed de Villepin’s political future. He was accused of orchestrating a smear campaign to derail Sarkozy’s presidential ambitions. Although he was later fully exonerated by the courts, the damage was done. The affair cost him his momentum and, for a time, his place in public life.
De Villepin claims he has forgiven his old adversary. He once ran into Sarkozy in a bookstore and told him, “I have forgiven.” Sarkozy, with a sly smile, reportedly replied, “Ah, forgiveness. It’s the best form of revenge.” After leaving the political arena, de Villepin reinvented himself. He donned the hat of a businessman and international consultant, traveling the world, opening doors in Brazil, Congo, Qatar, and Indonesia. He became a discreet but influential broker, a “man of the South” using his connections and strategic mind to advise on global affairs. “I don’t work for anyone,” he would say, “I offer advice as a professor of international strategy.” He even attempted a wine business venture in China with his son, Arthur. While the project didn’t succeed, Dominique doesn’t see it as a failure. Today, his son runs a successful art gallery in Hong Kong, and his daughter, Marie, a sharp and enigmatic figure who mirrors his own intensity, manages his public image and social media presence. The family’s story is woven with a poetic, emotional thread. “Everything was unjustly taken from us,” his daughter has said, alluding to the Clearstream scandal that she believes robbed her father of his rightful political destiny.
A Political Phoenix? De Villepin’s Potential 2027 Presidential Bid
After years of relative silence, de Villepin is back in the media spotlight. The wars in Gaza and Ukraine, and the seismic shifts in global power, have created a space for his voice—a voice that has consistently advocated for dialogue and a multipolar world. He has been quietly hinting to friends that he is ready, watching and waiting for the right moment to launch a lightning-fast presidential campaign, like an eagle circling its prey. In 2025, he announced the formation of a new political party, signaling his clear intention to contest the 2027 presidential election. And he might just be the surprise candidate France is looking for.
Several factors work in his favor. First, he enjoys a strong reputation as a statesman, a perception built during his years alongside Jacques Chirac and solidified by his UN speech. With the rise of figures like Donald Trump, his principled stand against American unilateralism now seems more prescient than ever. He is seen by many French citizens as a figure of substance, especially in a political landscape that feels increasingly shallow. When President Emmanuel Macron‘s term ends in less than two years, he will leave behind a fractured and polarized nation. The political center is weak, the left is divided, and the far-right, while popular, remains a toxic brand for a majority of voters. There is no clear, unifying figure ready to fill the void. This is perhaps the biggest criticism of Macron—that he has failed to cultivate a successor or a stable political alternative.
The French left remains unable to produce a leader with the broad appeal of François Mitterrand. Jean-Luc Mélenchon, leader of the far-left party La France Insoumise, has a dedicated following but alienates many in the center and on the moderate left with his radical positions. It seems highly unlikely the left can unite behind a single candidate in 2027. On the other side, the far-right, led by Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National, is mired in its own problems, including legal troubles that could disqualify Le Pen from running. While her young protégé, Jordan Bardella, is gaining prominence, at 29, he may not be seen as a credible presidential figure by the French electorate. Historically, when the far-right gets close to power, a “republican front” forms to block it, as seen in 2002 and again in recent elections.
This political vacuum could be the perfect opening for a Gaullist and Chirac-era figure like de Villepin. He speaks with deep knowledge on foreign policy and with a social, humane, and liberal conscience on domestic issues. He has repeatedly argued that problems like unemployment, security, and integration are not simply issues of immigration, nor are economic challenges rooted in questions of identity. They are, he insists, the result of failed policies and poor economic choices. All these factors are converging in favor of the man from Khemisset, who now waits for the right moment to officially declare his candidacy.
As France stands at a crossroads, politically divided and searching for a clear direction, the return of Dominique de Villepin is more than just a political comeback story. It is a reminder that politics can be more than just numbers, elections, and embassies. It can also be about emotion, dignity, memory, and culture. Whether he succeeds or not, his presence challenges the current political establishment to think bigger and more deeply. If the man who said “no” to America were to reach the presidency of a country as important as France, the world might just see a different face of the “land of enlightenment”—a face that has been missing for years, a leader ready to fill the great shoes of de Gaulle, Mitterrand, and Chirac.
