The politicians of the Third Republic were unloved by their contemporaries. And they have fared no better at the hands of historians. J.-B. Duroselle has recently criticized their manque de sérieux: he tells how Pierre-Etienne Flandin, the premier, and Pierre Laval, his foreign minister, meeting to prepare an important forthcoming visit to London, wasted their time discussing whether to fly, as Flandin wanted, or to take the ferry. Other less frivolous concerns could also distract politicians from their national responsibilities: Edouard Herriot, mayor of Lyon, recounts in his memoirs that he was forced to leave before the end of a cabinet meeting discussing what measures should be taken to deal with one of the most serious financial crises of the 1930s, in order to return to Lyon and preside over the Municipal Council. One is reminded of Louis XVI's diary entry for 14 July 1789. But such an incident reminds us that the local responsibilities of a Third Republic politician could weigh as heavily as his national ones. It was this body of individuals, about whom neither historians nor contemporaries have found much good to say, which was to be confronted with the economic crisis of the 1930s. And although it would be easy to add to the many criticisms already existing, it would be more useful to examine briefly the historical experience and technical competence with which they approached their task, and the institutional and political framework within which they were obliged to operate.