Following Russia's illegal annexation of Crimea and its stealth invasion of Eastern Ukraine, discerning observers of French politics found themselves baffled and dismayed when some of the proudest defenders of national sovereignty — especially the Front National — voiced their full support for the delivery of the warships, even visiting Moscow in early autumn to pay homage to President Putin and bang the drum for French trade. In fact the whole political elite, right and left, appeared eager to continue trading with Russia, as were — bien sûr — the arms industry, the food producers and the farmers. The latter stood to lose at least €1 billion from the tit-for-tat Russian embargo on food imposed last August in response to Western sanctions.

Despite the mounting Russian threat in the Baltic region and the subsequent growing anxiety among Nato allies, not once, it seems, did these French interest groups question the fact that the Mistral warships would provide Russia with an entirely new military capability to use in future adventures against Europe.

Where does such wilful blindness stem from? What has happened to France? After a glorious past, is it realistic to think that it has fallen into mediocrity? Quel cauchemar for the Fifth Republic's only giant. "All my life I have had a certain idea of France," wrote General de Gaulle in his War Memoirs in 1954. It was then his profound conviction that France was dedicated to an exceptional destiny.

Indeed, some of France's grandeur does linger on. Almost seven decades after the Yalta Conference, the nation is still one of the five permanent members of the UN Security Council with a veto power, along with the other nuclear powers (the US, Russia, China and the UK). On the diplomatic scene, France has 181 ambassadors and 91 consuls, forming the third biggest diplomatic network behind the US and China.

France's armed forces are deployed in no fewer than 27 operations and are currently fighting on three fronts (in the Middle East, the Central African Republic and the Sahel region). France still has the world's fifth largest economy. In October the Nobel Prize for Economics was awarded to French professor and economist Jean Tirole, while the Swedish Academy awarded last year's literary gong to a French writer, Patrick Modiano.

However, pursuing his reflection on the country's exalted destiny, General de Gaulle also said that if mediocrity ever showed in the acts and deeds of France, this predicament should be imputed to the faults of individual Frenchmen, but certainly not to the inherent genius of the great nation.

And, of late, things have looked distinctly mediocre for France. Since Hollande came to power the average quarterly growth in the French economy has been around zero; unemployment has hit its highest level ever (3.46 million); foreign investment in France fell by 77 per cent in 2012, to €4.58 billion, down from a high of €77 billion in 2007. By contrast it rose across the rest of the EU, with even Spain attracting €29.8 billion. Most ordinary people have seen their tax bills rise, while Hollande's 75 per cent tax for the super-rich was initially deemed unconstitutional before being redrafted, and has now succeeded in driving business out of the country. The President might care to note that no one has ever taxed their way to prosperity.