Editorial. Hand game, villain game?

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan held Emmanuel Macron's finger for about ten seconds. Was the French President, who has lost his touch on the domestic scene, going to lose his middle finger this time during a summit in Albania?

A few days ago, we came within a whisker of a diplomatic incident (or a breach of contract) before it all ended with a frank handshake. Among the big (male) beasts of politics, handshakes sometimes have something of a caricatured virility, a way of challenging the other before getting down to serious business, face-to-face discussions.

Some heads of state, like Donald Trump and Emmanuel Macron, are not one to hold back. In early December, during their reunion on the steps of the Élysée Palace, they exchanged a long handshake accompanied by a gesture worthy of Greco-Roman wrestling, with the future White House tenant unceremoniously lifting his counterpart's arm. A harbinger of the showdown that the United States and Europe would engage in a few weeks later?

Let's kiss, Folleville!

Handshakes aren't always a test of strength. Emmanuel Macron uses—and abuses?—hugs and pats on the back. These tactile closenesses are often overplayed, but the key is to convey the message that your relationship with your interlocutor is on a good note, whether it's real or not. Let's kiss, Folleville!

With female political leaders, kissing on the cheek is now the norm. We remember, about fifteen years ago, the reserved Angela Merkel received unenthusiastically the first embrace from the boisterous Nicolas Sarkozy.

And then there are those gestures that have gone down in history, like François Mitterrand and Helmut Kohl holding hands on September 22, 1984, in front of a catafalque placed at the entrance to the Douaumont ossuary, on the occasion of a commemoration of the dead of the two world wars. How better to symbolize Franco-German reconciliation? That day, the two heads of state wore their hearts on their sleeves.