France's Political Permacrisis: The Beginning of a Fresh Governmental Era
In October 2022, as Rishi Sunak assumed office as British prime minister, he was the fifth UK leader to take up the position in six years.
Triggered in the UK by Britain's EU exit, this signified exceptional governmental instability. So how might we describe what is occurring in the French Republic, now on its fifth prime minister in two years – with three in the past 10 months?
The latest prime minister, the newly reinstated Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on that day, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s flagship pensions overhaul in exchange for opposition Socialist votes as the cost of his government’s survival.
But it is, in the best case, a short-term solution. The EU’s second-largest economy is trapped in a political permacrisis, the likes of which it has not witnessed for many years – possibly not since the start of its Fifth Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no simple way out.
Governing Without a Majority
Key background: from the moment Macron called an risky early parliamentary vote in 2024, France has had a hung parliament split into three opposing factions – the left, far right and his own centre-right alliance – none with anything close to a majority.
Simultaneously, the country faces dual debt and deficit crises: its national debt level and budget shortfall are now almost twice the EU threshold, and strict legal timelines to pass a 2026 budget that at least begins to rein in spending are approaching.
In this challenging environment, both Lecornu’s immediate predecessors – Michel Barnier, who served from September to December 2024, and François Bayrou, who took office from December 2024 to September 2025 – were ousted by the assembly.
In mid-September, the leader named his close ally Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, just over a fortnight later, Lecornu presented his government team – which turned out to be much the same as the old one – he encountered anger from both supporters and rivals.
So much so that the next day, he resigned. After only 27 days as premier, Lecornu became the briefest-serving prime minister in recent French history. In a dignified speech, he blamed political intransigence, saying “partisan attitudes” and “personal ambitions” would make his job virtually unworkable.
Another twist in the tale: shortly after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron requested he remain for two more days in a final attempt to secure multi-party support – a task, to put it mildly, filled with challenges.
Next, two of Macron’s former PMs openly criticized the struggling leader. Meanwhile, the far-right National Rally (RN) and leftist LFI refused to meet Lecornu, vowing to reject all future administrations unless there were early elections.
Lecornu stuck at his job, engaging with all willing listeners. At the conclusion of his extension, he went on TV to say he believed “a path still existed” to avoid elections. The leader's team announced the president would name a fresh premier two days later.
Macron honored his word – and on Friday reappointed Sébastien Lecornu. So this week – with Macron helpfully sniping from the sidelines that the nation's opposing groups were “creating discord” and “entirely to blame for the turmoil” – was Lecornu’s moment of truth. Could he survive – and can he pass that vital budget?
In a critical address, the 39-year-old PM spelled out his budget priorities, giving the Socialist party, who oppose Macron’s controversial pension changes, what they were expecting: Macron’s flagship reform would be frozen until 2027.
With the right-wing LR already on board, the Socialists said they would refuse to support censorship votes tabled against Lecornu by the extremist factions – meaning the administration would likely endure those ballots, due on Thursday.
It is, however, far from guaranteed to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS clearly stated that it would be demanding further compromises. “This,” said its head, Olivier Faure, “is only the beginning.”
A Cultural Shift
The issue is, the more Lecornu cedes to the centre-left, the more he will meet resistance from the centre-right. And, like the PS, the right-leaning parties are themselves divided over how to handle the new government – some are still itching to topple it.
A look at the seat numbers shows how difficult his mission – and future viability – will be. A total of 264 deputies from the far-right RN, LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR seek his removal.
To succeed, they need a majority of 288 votes in parliament – so if they can convince only 24 of the PS’s 69 deputies or the LR’s 47 representatives (or both) to vote with them, Macron’s fifth precarious prime minister in two years is, like his predecessors, toast.
Few would bet against that happening sooner rather than later. Even if, by some miracle, the dysfunctional assembly musters collective will to approve a budget this year, the outlook afterward look grim.
So does an exit exist? Early elections would be unlikely to solve the problem: polls suggest pretty much every party bar the RN would lose seats, but there would remain no decisive majority. A fresh premier would face the same intractable arithmetic.
An alternative might be for Macron himself to resign. After winning the presidential election, his replacement would dissolve parliament and hope to secure a parliamentary majority in the following election. But this also remains unclear.
Surveys show the future president will be Le Pen or Bardella. There is at least an odds-on chance that France’s voters, having chosen a far-right leader, might reconsider giving them parliamentary power.
Ultimately, France may not emerge from its quagmire until its politicians accept the new political reality, which is that clear majorities are a thing of the past, absolute victory is obsolete, and compromise is not synonymous with failure.
Numerous observers believe that transformation will not be possible under the existing governmental framework. “This is no conventional parliamentary crisis, but a crise de régime” that will endure indefinitely.
“The system wasn't built to encourage – and actively discourages – the formation of ruling alliances common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic may well have entered its terminal phase.”