France's Parliamentary Ongoing Crisis: The Beginning of a New Political Era

In October 2022, as Rishi Sunak assumed office as the UK's leader, he was the fifth UK leader to occupy the position over a six-year span.

Unleashed on the UK by Britain's EU exit, this signified unprecedented political turmoil. So how might we describe what is occurring in France, now on its fifth prime minister in 24 months – 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 flagship pensions overhaul in exchange for support from Socialist lawmakers 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 ongoing governmental crisis, the likes of which it has not experienced for decades – perhaps not since the establishment of its Fifth Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no easy escape.

Governing Without a Majority

Essential context: from the moment Macron called an ill-advised snap general election in 2024, France has had a hung parliament separated into three warring blocs – the left, the 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 pass 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 served from September to December 2024, and François Bayrou, who held the position from December 2024 to September 2025 – were removed by parliament.

In September, the leader named his close ally Lecornu as his latest PM. 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 both supporters and rivals.

To such an extent that the following day, he resigned. After only 27 days as premier, Lecornu became the shortest-lived premier in recent French history. In a dignified speech, he blamed political intransigence, saying “party loyalties” and “personal ambitions” 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 salvage cross-party backing – a mission, to put it mildly, filled with challenges.

Next, two ex-prime ministers openly criticized the embattled president. Meanwhile, the far-right National Rally (RN) and leftist LFI refused to meet Lecornu, vowing to reject all future administrations unless there were early elections.

Lecornu stuck at his job, engaging with all willing listeners. At the conclusion of his extension, he appeared on television to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to prevent a vote. The president’s office confirmed the president would appoint a new prime minister two days later.

Macron honored his word – and on that Friday reappointed Sébastien Lecornu. So this week – with Macron helpfully sniping from the sidelines that the country’s rival political parties were “fuelling division” and “solely responsible for this chaos” – was Lecornu’s moment of truth. Would he endure – and is he able to approve the crucial 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 flagship reform would be suspended until 2027.

With the conservative Les Républicains (LR) already supportive, the Socialists said they would refuse to support censorship votes tabled against Lecornu by the extremist factions – meaning the administration would likely endure those ballots, due on Thursday.

It is, nevertheless, far from guaranteed to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS clearly stated that it would be demanding further compromises. “This,” said its leader, Olivier Faure, “is just the start.”

A Cultural Shift

The problem is, the more Lecornu cedes to the centre-left, the more opposition he'll face from the right. And, similar to the Socialists, the right-leaning parties are themselves split on dealing with the administration – certain members remain eager to bring it down.

A glance at the parliamentary arithmetic shows how tough Lecornu’s task – and future viability – will be. A combined 264 lawmakers from the far-right RN, radical-left LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR want him out.

To achieve that, 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 representatives (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. Although, by an unlikely turn, the dysfunctional assembly musters collective will to approve a budget this year, the prospects for the government beyond that look grim.

So is there a way out? Early 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.

An alternative might be for Macron himself to resign. After a presidential vote, his replacement would disband the assembly 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 odds-on chance that France’s voters, having chosen a far-right leader, might think twice about handing them control of parliament.

Ultimately, France may not emerge from its quagmire until its politicians acknowledge the changed landscape, which is that clear majorities are a thing of the past, absolute victory is obsolete, and negotiation doesn't mean defeat.

Numerous observers believe that cultural shift will not be possible 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.”
Katherine Herring
Katherine Herring

Elara is a linguist and writer with a passion for exploring how words shape our world and connect cultures.