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Roula Khalaf, Editor of the FT, selects her favourite stories in this weekly newsletter.
France has a new political star. He is young, telegenic and quick-witted. He favours slim-cut navy suits. His name is not Emmanuel Macron, but Gabriel Attal — the 34-year-old education minister whom the French president has named prime minister as part of a reboot in response to political troubles and a resurgent far right. Appointing a popular politician rather than a technocrat to lead a revamped government is a bold departure from the president’s “Jupiterian” approach. But it has risks — and will not in itself overcome the real weakness of Macron’s position: the lack of a parliamentary majority, against the backdrop of social discontent reflected in violent protests last year.
Facing economic headwinds, voter antipathy and disgruntlement over issues such as immigration and crime that play to the strengths of rightwing populists, the president and his centrist alliance are in trouble. The far-right Rassemblement National is poised to top the polls in June’s European parliament election, by a hefty margin.
With barely three years of his second term left, despite an impressive reform record to date, Macron is anxious for political successes to prevent the RN’s Marine Le Pen from sweeping to power in 2027. But the loss of his alliance’s majority in the French assembly in 2022 has made it much harder to push through further difficult reforms.
By repeatedly using emergency powers to impose legislation, the outgoing government of Élisabeth Borne has dented its legitimacy. How tricky it is to govern without using this override mechanism, however, was highlighted last month when concessions granted to the right to salvage a key immigration reform split Macron’s coalition.
Elevating France’s most popular minister to be its youngest-ever premier could bolster Macron’s fortunes. Attal’s youth puts him in a similar bracket to the RN’s 28-year-old nominal leader, Jordan Bardella. He has shown he can court right-leaning voters — for example, by planning an experiment as education minister to bring back school uniforms — without pandering to extremists.
But the president must now show he can share the limelight and initiative with a “mini-Macron” who has obvious ambitions to emerge as his successor, and whose interests may start to diverge. Attal’s very similarity to Macron might alienate voters who are drawn to the more down-to-earth Le Pen. Meanwhile, Attal will be as hamstrung as Borne by the difficulty of cobbling together legislative majorities.
It is important, despite the difficulties, that Macron sticks with efforts to deliver pro-business policies and reforms to make the state more efficient. Voters’ dissatisfaction is rooted in a sense that the state is not effective enough in protecting citizens and providing services, despite an ever increasing tax burden, in the way that used to be the cornerstone of its legitimacy in the Fifth Republic. One route to progress might be to seek a more stable accommodation with moderate rightwing rivals, though there is little sign the centre-right is ready to co-operate.
Attal has pledged further education reforms, which may be less contentious to enact, as part of what Macron calls a civic and economic “rearmament” of France. But it would be regrettable if his government started aping far-right policies on immigration or cultural issues.
The rise of France’s far right is part of a broader European phenomenon. The risk, though, is more serious in France than in parliamentary systems such as the Netherlands, Sweden, or even Germany, because of its powerful, directly elected president. As the French leader reshuffles his team to try to revive his fortunes, liberal democracy in Europe has a great deal invested in his success.
