🔗 Share this article

In October 2022, as Rishi Sunak took over as British prime minister, he was the fifth consecutive UK leader to occupy the position in six years.

Unleashed on the UK by Britain's EU exit, this represented exceptional governmental instability. So how might we describe what is occurring in France, now on its sixth prime minister in two years – with three in the last ten months?

The current premier, the recently reappointed Sébastien Lecornu, may have gained a brief respite on Tuesday, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s key pension reform in exchange for opposition Socialist votes as the price for his administration's continuation.

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

Governing Without a Majority

Key background: ever since Macron initiated an risky early parliamentary vote in 2024, the nation has had a divided assembly separated into three warring blocs – the left, far right and his own centrist coalition – none with anything close to a majority.

Simultaneously, the nation faces twin financial emergencies: its debt-to-GDP ratio and deficit are now nearly double 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 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 trusted associate Lecornu as his new prime minister. But when, just over a fortnight later, Lecornu presented his government team – which proved to be largely unchanged from before – he faced fury from allies and opponents alike.

To such an extent that the following day, he stepped down. After only 27 days as premier, Lecornu became the briefest-serving prime minister in modern French history. In a dignified speech, he cited political rigidity, saying “party loyalties” and “personal ambitions” would make his job virtually unworkable.

Another twist in the tale: shortly after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron requested he remain 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 radical left France Unbowed (LFI) declined to engage with 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 end of his 48 hours, he went on TV to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to avoid elections. The president’s office confirmed the president would appoint a new prime minister 48 hours later.

Macron kept his promise – and on Friday appointed … Sébastien Lecornu, again. So recently – 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 controversial pension changes, what they were expecting: Macron’s flagship reform would be suspended until 2027.

With the right-wing LR already on board, the Socialists said they would refuse to support censorship votes tabled against Lecornu by the far right and radical left – meaning the government should survive those votes, due on Thursday.

It is, however, far from guaranteed to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS explicitly warned that it would be seeking more concessions. “This,” said its leader, Olivier Faure, “is just the start.”

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, similar to the Socialists, the right-leaning parties are themselves divided over how to handle the new government – certain members remain eager to bring it down.

A look at the seat numbers shows how tough Lecornu’s task – and longer-term survival – will be. A total of 264 deputies from the far-right RN, LFI, Greens, Communists and UDR want him out.

To achieve that, 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 (or both) to support their motion, Macron’s fifth precarious prime minister in 24 months is, like his predecessors, toast.

Most expect this to occur soon. Even if, by an unlikely turn, the dysfunctional assembly summons up the collective responsibility to approve a budget this year, the outlook afterward look bleak.

So does an exit exist? Early elections would be unlikely to solve the problem: polls suggest pretty much every party bar the RN would see reduced representation, but there would still be no clear majority. A new prime minister would confront identical numerical challenges.

Another possibility might be for Macron himself to step down. After winning the presidential election, his successor would dissolve parliament and aim for a legislative majority in the following election. But that, too, is uncertain.

Surveys show the future president will be Le Pen or 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.

Ultimately, France may not escape its predicament until its leaders acknowledge the changed landscape, which is that decisive majorities are a thing of the past, absolute victory is obsolete, and negotiation doesn't mean defeat.

Many think that transformation 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 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.”