So Francois Mitterand went for analysis. Apparently the problem was that he talked like a comedy French President or rather like some inmate of a laughing academy who thinks he’s the French president:
One cannot win against the insular syndrome of an unbridled Englishwoman. Provoke a nuclear war for a few islands inhabited by three sheep as hairy as they are freezing! But it's a good job I gave way. Otherwise, I assure you, the Lady's metallic finger would have hit the button."
France, he insisted, would have the last word. "I'll build a tunnel under the Channel. I'll succeed where Napoleon III failed. And do you know why she'll accept my tunnel? I'll flatter her shopkeeper's spirit. I'll tell her it won't cost the Crown a penny."
Well they might have let him walk around in a sash on Sundays declaiming with a couple of burly chaps with syringes and a butterfly net following on behind discreetly ...but it worked.