Let's see if we can make this transparent enough for even Gallic sensibilities:

Idaho will not give Areva, a French company that wants to build a $2 billion uranium enrichment plant near Idaho Falls, a dime in tax credits unless it demonstrates that it is committed to being a good corporate citizen of the Gem State and we're rock-solid certain that its activities won't threaten the Upper Snake River Plain Aquifer.

Areva, a big player in the French nuclear industry, has offered to build a $2 billion uranium reprocessing plant near Idaho Falls. In return, it wants the kind of tax breaks that the Legislature in the past few years gave Micron (2,000 layoffs in Idaho since 2004), and Albertsons, which is no longer Albertsons and happily doing business as SuperValu in Minneapolis.

The state House Revenue and Taxation Committee is debating two bills this week that would give the French firm millions of dollars in tax concessions. Areva sniffs that it won't even consider Idaho unless our tax code is turned inside out to meet its needs.

As Harry Truman said so eloquently so long ago: "Not no, but hell no."

"This is standard operating procedure - this firm wants to pit … states against each other, just as other executives have done," Michael LaFaive, of the Mackinac Center for Public Policy, a Michigan free-market think tank, told the Associated Press last week. "In all likelihood, the company has already made the decision, and is just looking for economic icing for their location cake."

What Gallic gall. We're not that that desperate for jobs.

According to one of the bills presented Monday, Idaho would cap the taxable value of Areva's plant at $400 million. The measure is similar to a 2005 bill that set the taxable-value limit for companies like Micron Technology Inc. at $800 million.

The Bonneville County assessor's office indicates the measure would reduce Areva's tax assessment to about $3.8 million annually, based on current levies. If the property's taxable value were set at a more realistic $2 billion, its annual payments could be around $19 million, according to those calculations.

Some Idaho attempts to lure new businesses or to convince existing ones to expand have faltered in recent years. In addition to big breaks for Micron, lawmakers in 2005 threw hefty tax breaks at Albertson's Inc., trying to get the nation's second-biggest grocer to expand its headquarters in Boise.

Since then, Micron has laid off more than 1,000 workers in Idaho while investing in plants in Virginia. Albertson's sold in 2006 to Minneapolis-based SuperValu, which moved hundreds of Boise jobs to Minnesota.

In short, Idaho has been there, done that - and someone else kept our T-shirt.

On top of all that, Areva - whose plant would be perched a few hundred feet above the Snake River Plain Aquifer - has not said what it plans to do about radioactive waste. Presumably it would go to the nearby Idaho National Laboratory, where it would become Idaho's long-term problem.

So this is how it works, madames et messeiurs: Show us that you're committed to responsible development of nuclear energy in Idaho and we'll consider what we can do for you. Otherwise, feel free to take your radioactive enterprise elsewhere.

S'il vois plait.

Our view: Idaho's still stinging from being deceived by Micron and Albertsons. We're not about to roll over for Areva. What do you think? We welcome viewpoints from our readers on this and other issues.