Gerard Depardieu, tax refugee

French actor Gerard Depardieu has learned how to go from a beloved symbol of a nation to enemy of the state in one easy step. All it takes is wanting to keep some meaningful portion of his income.

Depardieu is a quintessentially French figure. Appearing in more than 150 films, he has played Cyrano and Obélix. He is a Chevalier du Légion d’honneur. He eats and drinks — a lot. He rides a scooter. It would take a diagram to follow his romantic entanglements with models and actresses. It’s all very French, except for the fact that he has earned too much money.

At least he has according to the accounting of the Gradgrind socialists who govern France. Elected earlier this year, President Francois Hollande has imposed a 75 percent marginal income tax on top earners. To this prospect, Depardieu said, “Non, merci.” He announced his intention to move to a little village over the border in Belgium, where the government imposes plenty of taxes but doesn’t aim to impose a punishing tax rate on the wealthy as a matter of justice.

For his offense, Depardieu has been denounced from the commanding heights of the French state. The prime minister called him “pathetic.” The budget minister sniffed that his move would be a boom to Belgian cinema. Hollande urged “ethical behavior” on the part of French taxpayers. They all agree that it’s wrong of Depardieu not to stand still so that the government can drastically lighten his wallet.

The “temporary supertax” applies to incomes of more than 1 million euros (roughly $1.3 million). It is said to be no big deal since it hits only about 1,500 people and is set to last for only two years. But it comes on top of an already-onerous tax burden and is shocking in its own right.

The tax is less fiscal policy than confiscatory policy motivated by unabashed disdain for the wealthy. Hollande is on the record saying, “I don’t like the rich.” For a career politician like Hollande, the natural order of things is that he gets to live off the government and Depardieu gets to fund it. That’s the definition of “fairness.”

Depardieu’s critics bash his patriotism. But why is it patriotic to accept financial chastisement by a government headed by someone who is avowedly driven by animus toward you as a member of a targeted class?

It’s not as though Depardieu is a scofflaw. He claims he has paid 145 million euros in taxes during the course of his career, and paid an 85 percent rate in 2012.

The French constitutional court just ruled against the supertax on technical grounds. The government promises to make adjustments and forge ahead. It can shame Depardieu all it likes, but that won’t stop the flow of other, less-famous tax exiles. Hollande doesn’t like rich people, and he will duly rule a country with fewer of them.

Gerard Depardieu wrote the prime minister to say he’s leaving “because you believe that success, creation, talent — difference, in fact — must be punished.”

He’s right. May he — dare we say it? — prosper in his new home.

(Rich Lowry is editor of the National Review.)
© 2013 by King Features Synd., Inc.