Macron’s coup is a shameless affront to democracy

Emmanuel Macron and Michel Barnier
Emmanuel Macron and Michel Barnier

On the evening of July 7, the French stared at their TV screens in disbelief as they discovered the results of the snap parliamentary elections Macron had called a few weeks earlier. Everyone had predicted Marine Le Pen’s victory.

Half of France was more hopeful than they’d ever dared to dream; the other half demoralised and ready to bite back.

But the result was a shock. For the first time ever, France’s parliament was divided in three blocks. An expected-to-fail Left-wing coalition had gained the most seats. Macron’s party followed 20 seats behind, and then came Marine Le Pen’s, another 20 seats back.

Unlike its continental neighbours, France does not have a culture of coalition. Deciding on a new prime minister and finding common ground between such opposing worldviews would not come easy.

Yet, Macron decided to maintain his own – now illegitimate – government in place, creating an unprecedented political crisis and institutional deadlock. In true Jupiterian fashion, Macron argued that naming a prime minister could wait until after the “Olympic truce”. He then retreated to his summer residence in order to “decant” the results of the election.

For weeks, he conducted a series of “vaudevillian” consultations on who France’s next prime minister should be. In France and abroad, news pieces and snickering tweets have mocked Macron’s dillydallying – one former government advisor even joked that famous predictor Paul The Octopus should be called upon to help. Even the Financial Times, not a paper one could accuse of gauchistes tendencies, dared suggest that it might just be better playing the democratic game and letting the Left-wing coalition come to power and fail.

Yet, yesterday, after holding France hostage for 60 days, Macron finally named Michel Barnier – colloquially known as ‘Mr Brexit’ in France for his role as the EU’s negotiator during the Brexit saga – as France’s new prime minister. His party, traditional right-wing Les Republicains, came in fourth position in the election, with under 10 per cent of the vote and just 46 seats. An absolutely baffling and undemocratic choice.

To say that Macron was displeased with the prospect of naming a Left-wing prime minister would be as British an understatement one could ever come up with. Macron owned up to that: he didn’t want the Left to undo his massively unpopular pension reform. Democracy can indeed be unpleasant: sometimes, one has to negotiate with rivals or to accept that citizens just want you out. The Tories know a thing or two about that.

In July, many critics argued that Marine Le Pen’s party would have had a clear majority if it hadn’t been for the implementation of a “republican dam”, whereby voters rally behind a candidate they disagree with in order to prevent the far-Right from accessing power.

But, crucially, Right-wing presidents have repeatedly been elected precisely thanks to that republican dam – due to left-wing citizens who pinched their noses at polling stations and agreed to cast their ballots in favour of someone they disagreed with. In 2002, Jacques Chirac didn’t win the presidential election with 82% of the vote against Jean-Marie Le Pen because he had convinced 82% of the population.

Fast forward to 2017, and a similar scenario unfolded when Macron, then a shiny new presidential hopeful, faced Le Pen. Then, Macron had no problem calling for the “republican front” to rally behind him. No one questioned the legitimacy of his election.

For the first time, the “barrage républicain” has favoured the Left. Yet, Macron has been more willing to negotiate with Marine Le Pen than with the Left-wing coalition (and therefore honouring the “republican dam” he once so defended). Marine Le Pen has become the de facto umpire to naming France’s newest prime minister.

Democracy is an imperfect game, with imperfect rules. But it’s one the citizens of France have been playing for a long time – and this particular set of rules has been in place since 1958. They shouldn’t be overturned to favour Macron’s or Le Pen’s political agendas.

Whether one agrees with the platform the Left was running isn’t the point here: an election was called, voters showed up to polling stations in the biggest turn-out since the 90s, and a party came first. They should be the prime negotiating party, and they should be represented in Government. Instead, they’re cast as the opposition and asked about their shadow cabinet.

That’s not playing the democratic game. That’s disrespecting the vote of French citizens and the campaign that was waged.

The French phrase for calling a spade a spade is to call a cat a cat. Maybe it’s time to update le dictionnaire and call a coup a coup.