THE REV Jean Pierre Blanchard is trying to be the acceptable face of the National Front. The evangelical Protestant pastor says the I, Front leader, Mr Jean Marie Le Pen, was "delighted to find an educator to look after social affairs" for the right wing movement.
Mr Blanchard says the "traditional values" of the man he calls "President Le Pen" attracted him to the Front. On the sidewalk at the Gare St Lazare, Mr Blanchard held forth to a small crowd of journalists while behind him the occasional homeless person wandered up to a van to grasp a steaming cup of watery onion soup and a piece of baguette.
The French press had quickly sniffed out something dubious in Mr Blanchard's toothy grin and clerical collar. "I belong to no French church or synod," Mr Blanchard admitted. "I applied, but someone told them I belong to the National Front. There is a witch hunt in this country. So turned to an American synod, the Church of Lutheran Confession, Wisconsin."
And yes, Mr Blanchard admitted, he had been a Maoist. "But who wasn't in 1968?" he asked.
In other incarnations, he was also a vagabond and an activist in Mr Valery Giscard d'Estaing's centre right party.
What about the journalists who questioned his seriousness of purpose, he asked. Had they never changed paths? What about the "caviar left" and the "smoked salmon right" who dominate French political life?
"I was a worker pastor earning a minimum wage. I'm more sincere than the clergy who lounge around in ministers' salons."
An African in ragged clothes, stood nearby, sipping his soup and listening to Mr Blanchard. "You see, we don't turn anyone away," the pastor said, nodding towards the African.
But Mr Le Pen had said the Front's soup kitchen was only for French people. "He has said we can't take care of all the misery in the world," Mr Blanchard corrected me. "You will see someone from the National Front who is West Indian. There are coloured people in the National Front," he insisted. (The token West Indian never materialised.)
Maybe he had gone too far in his largesse d'esprit. Lest anyone should think the Front has gone soft on immigration, Mr Blanchard added: "Ninety eight per cent of the people we serve are French. We haven't had any north Africans. We've served 200 meals since Monday."
A well dressed doctor and former army colonel was among the soup kitchen organisers. He did not want to be quoted by name because it might harm his career.
"Jean Marie Le Pen says out loud what most French people think in silence," he said. "France has to feed its own people first. Africans are not equal morphologically or sociologically. I respect these people in their natural element, in the savannah.
"Look at our suburbs: you'll see how unhappy these people are. When they lose their roots they become violent. They want to marry French women and stay here."
A few metres away four tramps sat on the cold pavement dipping French bread into soup cups and quaffing red wine from plastic bottles. "This isn't a real meal," complained one. "I asked for a second cup and they told me I had to wait half an hour. You eat better at the restos du coeur.
"When the weather freezes no one will come here. It's not worth it for what they give you. A spoonful of soup and they say they're helping the poor. Does Jean Marie Le Pen take us for fools?"
The tramp grew more agitated. He sprang to his feet and pointed to the Front's gleaming white van. "Look at the licence plate. Ninety two. That's where rich people live. That's a rich man's car."
