The French Parliamentary Ongoing Crisis: The Dawn of a New Political Reality
In October 2022, when Rishi Sunak took over as British prime minister, he became the fifth consecutive British prime minister to occupy the role over a six-year span.
Unleashed on the UK by Brexit, this signified unprecedented political turmoil. So what term captures what is occurring in the French Republic, now on its fifth premier in two years – three of them in the last ten months?
The latest prime minister, the recently reappointed Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on that day, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s key pension reform in return for support from Socialist lawmakers as the price for his administration's continuation.
But it is, at best, a short-term solution. The EU’s second-largest economy is locked in a political permacrisis, the scale of which it has not witnessed for decades – perhaps not since the start of its Fifth French Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no easy escape.
Governing Without a Majority
Key background: ever since Macron initiated an ill-advised snap general election in 2024, the nation has had a hung parliament separated into three opposing factions – the left, far right and his own centre-right alliance – without any group holding a clear majority.
At the same time, the country faces twin financial emergencies: its national debt level and budget shortfall are now nearly double the EU threshold, and hard constitutional deadlines to pass a 2026 budget that at least begins to rein in spending 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 held the position from December 2024 to September 2025 – were ousted by the assembly.
In September, the president appointed his trusted associate Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, just over a fortnight later, Lecornu unveiled his new cabinet – which proved to be largely unchanged from before – he encountered anger from both supporters and rivals.
So much so that the following day, he stepped down. After just 27 days in office, Lecornu became the briefest-serving prime minister in modern French history. In a respectful address, 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 two more days in a last-ditch effort to secure multi-party support – a mission, to put it mildly, not without complications.
Next, two ex-prime ministers publicly turned on the embattled president. Meanwhile, the right-wing RN and leftist LFI declined to engage with Lecornu, promising to vote down any and every new government unless there were early elections.
Lecornu stuck at his job, engaging with all willing listeners. At the end of his 48 hours, he went on TV to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to prevent a vote. The leader's team confirmed 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 “fuelling division” and “entirely to blame for the turmoil” – was Lecornu’s moment of truth. Could he survive – and is he able to approve the crucial budget?
In a high-stakes speech, the 39-year-old PM 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 flagship reform would be suspended until 2027.
With the conservative Les Républicains (LR) already supportive, the Socialists said they would not back no-confidence motions proposed against Lecornu by the extremist factions – meaning the government should survive those ballots, due on Thursday.
It is, nevertheless, far from guaranteed to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS explicitly warned that it would be demanding further compromises. “This move,” said its head, Olivier Faure, “is only the beginning.”
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 right-leaning parties are themselves divided over how to handle the new government – some are still itching to topple it.
A glance at the parliamentary arithmetic shows how tough Lecornu’s task – and longer-term survival – will be. A combined 264 lawmakers from the RN, radical-left LFI, Greens, Communists and hardline-right UDR want him out.
To succeed, they need a majority of 288 votes in parliament – so if they can convince only 24 of the PS’s 69 members or the LR’s 47 (or both) to support their motion, Macron’s fifth unstable premier in two years is, like his predecessors, toast.
Most expect this to occur soon. Although, by an unlikely turn, the dysfunctional assembly musters collective will to pass a budget by year-end, the outlook afterward look grim.
So is there a way out? Early elections would be doubtful to resolve the issue: surveys indicate pretty much every party bar the RN would lose seats, but there would remain no decisive majority. A new prime minister 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 ensuing legislative vote. But that, too, is uncertain.
Surveys show the next occupant of the Elysée Palace 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 think twice about handing them control of parliament.
In the end, 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 negotiation doesn't mean defeat.
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 prove anything but temporary.
“The regime … was never designed to facilitate – and even disincentivizes – the formation of ruling alliances common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic may well have entered its terminal phase.”