The French Parliamentary Permacrisis: The Beginning of a Fresh Governmental Era
Back in October 2022, as Rishi Sunak assumed office as British prime minister, he was the fifth British prime minister to take up the role over a six-year span.
Unleashed on the UK by Brexit, this signified unprecedented political turmoil. So how might we describe what is occurring in the French Republic, now on its sixth premier in two years – three of them in the last ten months?
The current premier, the newly reinstated Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on that day, abandoning Emmanuel Macron’s key pension reform in exchange for support from Socialist lawmakers as the price for his government’s survival.
But it is, in the best case, a temporary fix. The EU’s second-largest economy is locked in a political permacrisis, the likes of which it has not witnessed for decades – 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 initiated an ill-advised snap general election in 2024, France has had a hung parliament separated into three opposing factions – left, far right and his own centrist coalition – none with anything close to a majority.
Simultaneously, the country faces dual debt and deficit crises: its national debt level and deficit are now nearly double the EU threshold, and strict legal timelines to pass a 2026 budget that starts controlling expenditures are nigh.
Against that unforgiving backdrop, both the prime ministers before Lecornu – Michel Barnier, who lasted from September to December 2024, and François Bayrou, who took office from December 2024 to September 2025 – were ousted by the assembly.
In 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 proved to be largely unchanged from before – he faced fury from both supporters and rivals.
So much so that the following day, he resigned. After only 27 days as premier, Lecornu became the briefest-serving prime minister in modern French history. In a dignified speech, he blamed political intransigence, saying “partisan attitudes” and “personal ambitions” would make his job all but impossible.
Another twist in the tale: just hours after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron asked him to stay on for another 48 hours in a final attempt to secure multi-party support – a task, to put it gently, filled with challenges.
Next, two of Macron’s former PMs openly criticized the embattled president. Meanwhile, the far-right National Rally (RN) and leftist LFI declined to engage with Lecornu, vowing to reject all future administrations unless there were early elections.
Lecornu stuck at his job, talking to everyone who was prepared to hear him out. At the end of his 48 hours, he appeared on television to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to prevent a vote. The president’s office confirmed the president would name a fresh premier 48 hours later.
Macron honored his word – and on Friday appointed … Sébastien Lecornu, again. So this week – with Macron helpfully sniping from the sidelines that the nation's opposing groups were “creating discord” and “solely responsible for this chaos” – was Lecornu’s moment of truth. Could he survive – and can he pass that vital budget?
In a high-stakes speech, the young prime minister spelled out his budget priorities, giving the centre-left Socialist party (PS), who oppose Macron’s controversial pension changes, what they were waiting for: Macron’s key policy would be frozen until 2027.
With the right-wing LR already supportive, the Socialists said they would refuse to support no-confidence motions proposed against Lecornu by the far right and radical left – meaning the administration would likely endure those votes, due on Thursday.
It is, however, by no means certain to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS explicitly warned that it would be seeking more concessions. “This,” said its leader, Olivier Faure, “is only the beginning.”
A Cultural Shift
The issue is, the more Lecornu cedes to the centre-left, the more opposition he'll face from the right. And, like the PS, the conservatives are themselves split on dealing with the administration – certain members remain eager to bring it down.
A glance at the parliamentary arithmetic shows how difficult his mission – and future viability – will be. A total of 264 deputies from the far-right RN, radical-left LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR seek his removal.
To achieve that, they need a 288-vote majority in parliament – so if they can persuade just 24 of the PS’s 69 deputies or the LR’s 47 representatives (or both) to vote with them, Macron’s fifth unstable premier in 24 months is, similar to his forerunners, toast.
Few would bet against that happening sooner rather than later. Even if, by some miracle, the divided parliament musters collective will to pass a budget by year-end, the outlook afterward look bleak.
So does an exit exist? Snap elections would be unlikely to solve the problem: surveys indicate nearly all parties except the RN would see reduced representation, but there would still be no clear majority. A fresh premier would face the same intractable arithmetic.
Another possibility might be for Macron himself to resign. After a presidential vote, his replacement would dissolve parliament and aim for a legislative majority in the ensuing legislative vote. But that, too, is uncertain.
Polls suggest the future president will be Marine Le Pen or Jordan Bardella. There is at least an odds-on chance that France’s voters, having elected a far-right president, might think twice about handing them control of parliament.
Ultimately, France may not emerge from its quagmire until its politicians acknowledge the changed landscape, which is that decisive majorities are a bygone phenomenon, winner-takes-all no longer applies, and compromise is not synonymous with failure.
Many think that cultural shift will not be feasible under the existing governmental framework. “This isn't a standard political crisis, but a crise de régime” that will prove anything but temporary.
“The system wasn't built to encourage – and even disincentivizes – the formation of ruling alliances common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic could be in its final stage.”