SUCH GOOD FRIENDS

By THOMAS SANCTON PARIS

Edouard Balladur had left nothing to chance. Everything, from the flowers on his desk to the conspicuously placed photos of his grandchildren, was calculated to project the image of a national father figure. Though there was little suspense--his intentions had long been clear--Balladur's nationally televised address was the biggest political event of the new year. It marked the Gaullist Prime Minister's official entry into a presidential race that could make him the successor to Socialist Francois Mitterrand next May. Speaking from his gilded office, Balladur, 65, promised to run a ``positive, serene and optimistic'' campaign.

Serene? Not if Jacques Chirac can help it. The Paris mayor and former Prime Minister is seething over what he calls Balladur's ``betrayal.'' Two years ago, with the conservatives poised to win a majority in legislative elections, Chirac and Balladur cut a deal: Chirac, then leader of the Gaullist Rally for the Republic (R.P.R.) party, would put Balladur into the Prime Minister's job; Balladur, in turn, would defer to Chirac as the Gaullists' ``natural'' candidate in the 1995 presidential election.

Trouble is that Balladur, quite unexpectedly, became the darling of the opinion polls and the front runner for the presidency. One by one, conservative leaders, including 25 of 29 current Cabinet members, deserted Chirac for Balladur. The defections need not be fatal for Chirac: he still claims the support of 240 of the R.P.R.'s 350 Senators and Deputies and appears to have the majority of the Gaullist rank and file on his side. But with Balladur enjoying far broader support from the center, the Prime Minister's 2-to-1 lead in the polls is formidable.

What Balladur does not have to worry about is a serious challenge from the left. A month ago, the polls showed outgoing European Commission President Jacques Delors, a Socialist, well out in front. But Delors' decision not to run left the Socialists without a credible candidate. None of the announced hopefuls--former Education Minister Lionel Jospin, 57; former Culture Minister Jack Lang, 55; and party leader Henri Emmanuelli, 49--has a broad national following. As things stand, the Socialists might well be eliminated in the first stage of the two-round presidential contest on April 23.

That could leave Balladur and Chirac facing each other in the May 7 runoff. Chirac's hopes would then depend on winning substantial support among traditionally leftist voters. He is already wooing them with a social program that includes emergency job programs for the long-term unemployed and on-the-job training for young people. But credibility is a problem. Chirac has changed his views so often--he went from state dirigisme in the '70s to Reagan-style free-marketry in the '80s--that many people are skeptical.

Balladur's platform is more nebulous. His electoral announcement contained generalities about ``indispensable reforms'' in employment and education and on the anticorruption front, while promising a ``prosperous, fair and influential'' future for France. Yet precise content does not seem to matter much. ``What counts is what you inspire in the minds of the people,'' says Florence Muracciolle, a respected political reporter for the weekly Journal du Dimanche, ``whether or not you convince them that things will go better under your leadership.'' Therein lies Balladur's great advantage: with his gray hair, portly figure and ponderous diction, he looks and acts more like a President than the leaner, more aggressive Chirac. ``Since becoming Prime Minister, Balladur has cut a presidential image,'' says conservative political consultant Bernard Rideau. ``He has the language, the look. He fits the mold. Chirac does not.''

If that is the case, Balladur can breathe a sigh of relief, since his record in office, as one of his aides admits, has been ``respectable but not dazzling.'' Balladur can point to some achievements: his tough stance in the GATT negotiations, his defense of the franc, last month's dramatic rescue of a hijacked Air France plane in Marseilles. But he has also backed down in several major labor and social confrontations, and has made no progress in solving France's leading problem, unemployment, which has risen from 10.9% to 12.6% since he took over. ``The government hasn't yet mastered unemployment,'' says Balladur spokesman Bernard Brigouleix. ``But this has not translated into a collapse at the polls. And with a bit of luck, Balladur will be heading into the election just as the recovery starts to produce results.''

So is the race over before it begins? Not necessarily. For one thing, about half the voters still appear undecided; for another, analysts point out, since De Gaulle's time the candidate leading in the polls four months before a presidential contest has always lost. Among potential obstacles in Balladur's path:

SCANDALS. Three of his ministers have resigned in the face of corruption indictments, and one is in jail. Balladur himself has not been tainted, but two more Cabinet members are threatened with investigations, and any fresh resignations might undermine his credibility.

THE BROKEN PACT. Chirac may darken Balladur's image by harping on his forsaken promise not to run. ``Chirac put Balladur in power, and Balladur betrayed him,'' says an aide to Foreign Minister Alain Juppe, one of the few Cabinet members who supports the mayor. ``Chirac is the father figure, and Balladur is a parricide.''

THE UNEXPECTED. ``A Prime Minister is very exposed,'' says Jean-Marie Colombani, director of Le Monde. ``He could be destroyed in two weeks--by a demonstration that gets out of hand, for example, or a hostage drama.''

CAMPAIGN INEXPERIENCE. Except for a safe parliamentary seat, Balladur has never run for national office and may prove to be a weak campaigner. ``We know Balladur as Prime Minister, but we don't know what image he will have as a candidate,'' says Chirac spokesman Francois Baroin. ``He is coming into the campaign like a satellite re-entering the atmosphere. He could hit some unexpected turbulence.'' Observes a political analyst: ``Handshaking, backslapping--that's not Balladur's thing. But his good fortune is that modern campaigns are no longer centered on big rallies and grassroots contacts but on the more intimate setting of TV--and Balladur is a master of that.''

Probably the biggest thing Balladur has to worry about is Chirac's ferocity as a competitor. ``Chirac is a campaign animal,'' says a political analyst, ``and a cornered animal can be lethal.'' For 30 years, the mayor has had his sights set on the Elysee--a prize that escaped him in 1981 and again in 1988. At 62, having given up his leadership of the R.P.R., he knows this is his last chance. The odds are stacked against him, but one thing is sure: Jacques Chirac is going to wage the fight of his life.