The French Parliamentary Permacrisis: The Dawn of a Fresh Governmental Era

In October 2022, as Rishi Sunak assumed office as British prime minister, he was the fifth consecutive UK leader 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 unfolding in France, now on its fifth prime minister in 24 months – with three in the past 10 months?

The latest prime minister, the newly reinstated Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on that day, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s flagship pensions overhaul in return for opposition Socialist votes as the price for his administration's continuation.

But it is, in the best case, a short-term solution. The EU’s second-largest economy is locked in a political permacrisis, the likes of which it has not experienced for decades – possibly not since the establishment of its Fifth French Republic in 1958 – and from which there appears no easy escape.

Minority Rule

Key background: from the moment Macron initiated an ill-advised snap general election in 2024, the nation has had a divided assembly split into three warring blocs – 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 budget shortfall are now almost twice the EU threshold, and hard constitutional deadlines to approve a 2026 budget that starts controlling expenditures are nigh.

In this challenging environment, 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 removed by parliament.

In September, the president appointed his close ally Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, just over a fortnight later, Lecornu unveiled his new cabinet – which proved to be much the same as the old one – he encountered anger from allies and opponents alike.

So much so that the next day, he resigned. After just 27 days in office, Lecornu became the shortest-lived premier in recent French history. In a dignified speech, he cited political rigidity, saying “party loyalties” and “personal ambitions” would make his job all but impossible.

A further unexpected development: shortly after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron asked him to stay on for another 48 hours in a last-ditch effort to salvage cross-party backing – 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 refused to meet Lecornu, promising to vote down any and every new government unless there were snap 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 believed “a path still existed” to avoid elections. The leader's team confirmed the president would name a fresh premier 48 hours later.

Macron kept his promise – and on Friday appointed … Sébastien Lecornu, again. So this week – with Macron commenting from the wings that the country’s rival political parties were “fuelling division” and “entirely to blame for the turmoil” – was Lecornu’s critical test. Could he survive – and can he pass that vital budget?

In a high-stakes speech, the 39-year-old PM outlined his financial plans, giving the centre-left Socialist party (PS), who detest Macron’s controversial pension changes, what they were expecting: Macron’s flagship reform would be frozen until 2027.

With the right-wing 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 seeking more concessions. “This,” said its leader, Olivier Faure, “is just the start.”

A Cultural Shift

The issue 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 split on dealing with the administration – 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, LFI, Greens, Communists and hardline-right UDR want him out.

To succeed, they need a 288-vote majority in parliament – so if they can persuade just 24 of the PS’s 69 members or the LR’s 47 representatives (or both) to vote with them, Macron’s fifth precarious prime minister in 24 months is, like his predecessors, toast.

Few would bet against that happening sooner rather than later. Even if, by some miracle, the divided parliament musters collective will to approve a budget this year, the outlook afterward look bleak.

So does an exit exist? Early elections would be doubtful to resolve the issue: surveys indicate pretty much every party bar the RN would lose seats, but there would still be no clear majority. A fresh premier would face the same intractable arithmetic.

An alternative might be for Macron himself to step down. After a presidential vote, his replacement would disband the assembly and hope to secure a parliamentary majority in the following election. 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 elected a far-right president, might reconsider giving them parliamentary power.

Ultimately, France may not escape its predicament until its politicians accept the new political reality, which is that clear 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 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 formation of ruling alliances common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic could be in its final stage.”
Andrea Vega
Andrea Vega

A data scientist and writer passionate about AI ethics and digital transformation, sharing insights from industry experience.