France's Parliamentary Permacrisis: The Dawn of a New Political Reality
In October 2022, as Rishi Sunak took over as British prime minister, he was the fifth British prime minister to occupy the position in six years.
Unleashed on the UK by Britain's EU exit, this represented unprecedented political turmoil. So what term captures what is unfolding in France, now on its fifth prime minister in two years – three of them in the last ten months?
The current premier, the recently reappointed Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on Tuesday, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s key pension reform in exchange for opposition Socialist votes as the price for his government’s survival.
But it is, in the best case, a short-term solution. The EU’s second-largest economy is locked in a political permacrisis, the scale of which it has not experienced for many years – perhaps not since the start of its Fifth Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no simple way out.
Minority Rule
Key background: ever since Macron called an risky early parliamentary vote in 2024, the nation has had a divided assembly split into three opposing factions – the left, far right and his own centrist coalition – none with anything close to a majority.
At the same time, the nation faces dual debt and deficit crises: its national debt level and deficit are now almost twice the EU limit, and hard constitutional deadlines to pass a 2026 budget that starts controlling expenditures are approaching.
Against that unforgiving backdrop, both Lecornu’s immediate predecessors – Michel Barnier, who served from September to December 2024, and François Bayrou, who held the position from December 2024 to September 2025 – were removed by parliament.
In mid-September, the president appointed his trusted associate Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, a little over two weeks ago, Lecornu unveiled his new cabinet – which proved to be largely unchanged from before – he encountered anger from allies and opponents alike.
So much so that the following day, he stepped down. After just 27 days in office, Lecornu became the shortest-lived premier in recent French history. In a respectful address, he blamed political intransigence, saying “party loyalties” and “certain egos” would make his job all but impossible.
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 mission, to put it mildly, not without complications.
Next, two ex-prime ministers publicly turned on the struggling leader. Meanwhile, the right-wing RN and radical left France Unbowed (LFI) declined to engage with Lecornu, vowing to reject any and every new government unless there were early elections.
Lecornu stuck at his job, talking to everyone who was prepared to hear him out. At the conclusion of his extension, he appeared on television to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to prevent a vote. The leader's team confirmed the president would appoint a new prime minister 48 hours later.
Macron kept his promise – and on that Friday reappointed Sébastien Lecornu. 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 young prime minister outlined his financial plans, giving the Socialist party, who oppose Macron’s unpopular pension overhaul, what they were waiting for: Macron’s key policy would be frozen until 2027.
With the conservative Les Républicains (LR) already on board, the Socialists said they would not back no-confidence motions tabled against Lecornu by the extremist factions – meaning the government should survive those votes, due on Thursday.
It is, nevertheless, far from guaranteed to be able to pass its planned €30bn budget squeeze: the PS explicitly warned that it would be demanding further compromises. “This,” said its head, Olivier Faure, “is only the beginning.”
Changing Political Culture
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 split on dealing with the administration – some are still itching to topple it.
A glance at the parliamentary arithmetic shows how difficult his mission – and longer-term survival – will be. A total of 264 deputies from the RN, LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR seek his removal.
To succeed, they need a 288-vote majority 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 unstable premier in two years is, like his predecessors, toast.
Few would bet against that happening sooner rather than later. Although, by an unlikely turn, the divided parliament summons up the collective responsibility to pass a budget by year-end, the outlook afterward look grim.
So is there a way out? Snap elections would be unlikely to solve the problem: surveys indicate pretty much every party bar the RN would see reduced representation, but there would remain no decisive majority. A fresh premier would confront identical numerical challenges.
Another possibility might be for Macron himself to step down. After winning the presidential election, his replacement would disband the assembly and aim for a legislative majority in the following election. But that, too, is uncertain.
Polls suggest the future president will be Marine Le Pen or Jordan Bardella. There is at least an strong possibility that France’s voters, having chosen a far-right leader, might reconsider giving them parliamentary power.
In the end, France may not escape its predicament until its leaders accept the new political reality, which is that clear majorities are a bygone phenomenon, absolute victory is obsolete, and negotiation doesn't mean defeat.
Many think that transformation will not be possible under the existing governmental framework. “This isn't a standard political crisis, but a crise de régime” that will endure indefinitely.
“The system wasn't built to encourage – and even disincentivizes – the emergence of governing coalitions common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic may well have entered its terminal phase.”