MAN OF THE HOUR, AT LAST

On a cold night in Rouen this February, Jacques Chirac slumped into the back seat of his Citroen and opened a Heineken. Chirac is the conservative mayor of Paris and a former Prime Minister of France; he was running for the French presidency and had just delivered a 90-minute speech. He was bone tired. Nevertheless, the long day of handshaking and backslapping buoyed his spirits. "I have always campaigned close to the people," he said. "I am a man of contact." Chirac had an added reason for satisfaction: on that night, for the first time since he officially entered the race in November, his poll numbers were improving. "I never doubted this rise would come," he said. "I have been preparing for a long time."

A very long time, and his preparations have finally borne sweet fruit. Last Sunday, after a tough come-from-behind campaign and a nail-biting finish, Chirac, 62, defeated the Socialists' candidate Lionel Jospin by a comfortable margin. He will thus succeed Socialist Francois Mitterrand, 78, whose second seven-year term ends on May 20. For a man who had lost presidential bids in 1981 and 1988-and who seemed to have been eliminated from this race only a few months ago -- it was an extraordinary personal vindication.

Not everyone would envy Chirac his prize, however. France today is a country suffering from severe social unrest and political alienation. The unemployment rate is 12.2% -- one of the highest of any major industrialized nation. The army of 3.3 million jobless contributes to a growing gap between the rich and poor, stirs antagonism against the large immigrant community and sustains an underlying sense of insecurity and fear of the future. During the campaign thousands of striking workers, students, homeless people and aids activists jammed the streets of Paris and other large cities.

So many voters are disaffected that one opinion poll taken before the election indicated that 61% of respondents didn't think it would make any difference at all who won the presidency. Where there is not apathy, there is ominous extremism. In the first round of the election held on April 23, nearly 40% of the ballots went to fringe candidates ranging from the Trotskyites to the harshly anti-immigrant Jean-Marie Le Pen, who won 15% of the vote, a record for him. Chirac's task now is to heal the wounds of a bruising campaign, restore public confidence and spark a job-creating burst of economic growth.

Is he up to it? If success depends on sheer exuberance and tenacity, he has a better than even chance. The son of a schoolteacher-turned-banker from the southwestern region of Correze, Chirac ran away from home at 17 and spent several months in the merchant marine. When he was 20, he studied at Harvard summer school, washed dishes at a Howard Johnson's in Boston, and became engaged (briefly) to a girl from South Carolina who had a white Cadillac convertible and called him "honey chile." He retains a strong affection for America and is in fact an American junk-food addict. "When you're in the U.S. with Chirac," says Foreign Minister Alain Juppa, "there's always a problem: as soon as he sees a fast-food place, he has to stop the car, rush up to the counter and order a hamburger." (Chirac does have a more sophisticated side-he speaks Russian and is an expert on Chinese poetry and porcelain.)