The French Parliamentary Permacrisis: The Beginning of a New Political Era
In October 2022, when Rishi Sunak took over as the UK's leader, he was the fifth UK leader to occupy the position over a six-year span.
Triggered in the UK by Brexit, this signified unprecedented political turmoil. So how might we describe what is unfolding in the French Republic, now on its sixth prime minister in 24 months – three of them in the past 10 months?
The current premier, the recently reappointed Sébastien Lecornu, may have gained a brief respite on Tuesday, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s flagship pensions overhaul in exchange for opposition Socialist votes as the price for his administration's continuation.
But it is, at best, a short-term solution. The EU’s number two economic power is locked in a ongoing governmental crisis, the scale of which it has not experienced for many years – possibly not since the establishment of its Fifth Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no easy escape.
Governing Without a Majority
Essential context: ever since Macron called an ill-advised snap general election in 2024, France has had a hung parliament separated into three warring blocs – the left, far right and his own centrist coalition – none with anything close to a majority.
At the same time, the nation faces twin financial emergencies: its debt-to-GDP ratio and budget shortfall are now nearly double the EU limit, and hard constitutional deadlines to approve a 2026 budget that at least begins to rein in spending are nigh.
Against that unforgiving backdrop, both Lecornu’s immediate predecessors – 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 mid-September, the leader named his trusted associate Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, a little over two weeks ago, Lecornu presented his government team – which proved to be largely unchanged from before – he faced fury from both supporters and rivals.
To such an extent that the following day, he resigned. After only 27 days as premier, Lecornu became the briefest-serving prime minister in recent French history. In a respectful address, he cited political rigidity, saying “partisan attitudes” and “certain egos” would make his job all but impossible.
Another twist in the tale: shortly after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron asked him to stay on for two more days in a final attempt to secure multi-party support – a task, to put it mildly, not without complications.
Next, two of Macron’s former PMs publicly turned on the embattled president. Meanwhile, the right-wing RN and leftist LFI declined to engage with Lecornu, vowing to reject all future administrations unless there were early elections.
Lecornu persisted in his duties, talking to everyone who was prepared to hear him out. At the end of his 48 hours, he went on TV to say he believed “a path still existed” to avoid elections. The leader's team confirmed the president would appoint a new prime minister 48 hours later.
Macron honored his word – and on that Friday appointed … Sébastien Lecornu, again. So this week – with Macron commenting from the wings that the nation's opposing groups were “fuelling division” 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 centre-left Socialist party (PS), who detest Macron’s controversial pension changes, what they were waiting for: Macron’s flagship reform would be frozen until 2027.
With the right-wing LR already supportive, the Socialists said they would refuse to support no-confidence motions tabled against Lecornu by the extremist factions – meaning the government should survive those ballots, scheduled for Thursday.
It is, however, by no means certain to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS clearly stated that it would be seeking more concessions. “This,” said its leader, Olivier Faure, “is just the start.”
Changing Political Culture
The problem is, the more Lecornu cedes to the centre-left, the more he will meet resistance from the centre-right. And, similar to the Socialists, the conservatives are themselves divided over how to handle the new government – certain members remain eager to bring it down.
A look at the seat numbers shows how difficult his mission – and future viability – will be. A combined 264 lawmakers from the RN, LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR want him out.
To succeed, they need a majority of 288 votes in parliament – so if they can persuade just 24 of the PS’s 69 deputies or the LR’s 47 (or both) to vote with them, Macron’s fifth unstable premier in 24 months is, like his predecessors, toast.
Few would bet against that happening sooner rather than later. Even if, by an unlikely turn, the dysfunctional assembly summons up the collective responsibility to approve a budget this year, the prospects for the government beyond that look grim.
So is there a way out? Snap elections would be doubtful to resolve the issue: polls suggest nearly all parties except the RN would see reduced representation, but there would still be no clear majority. A new prime minister would confront identical numerical challenges.
Another possibility might be for Macron himself to step down. After winning the presidential election, his successor would disband the assembly and aim for a legislative majority in the ensuing legislative vote. But this also remains unclear.
Polls suggest the next occupant of the Elysée Palace will be Marine Le Pen or Jordan Bardella. There is at least an strong possibility that French electorate, having elected a far-right president, might think twice about handing them control of parliament.
In the end, France may not emerge from its quagmire until its leaders accept the new political reality, which is that decisive majorities are a bygone phenomenon, absolute victory is obsolete, and compromise is not synonymous with failure.
Numerous observers believe that cultural shift will not be feasible under the country’s current constitution. “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 emergence of governing coalitions typical across Europe. The Fifth Republic may well have entered its terminal phase.”