By R.W. Johnson
The fall of the French government opens a period of uncertainty and instability which is the opposite of what Europe needs right now. At a time when a firm and united Europe is essential in the face of Russian aggression and the new uncertainties arriving in office with Trump, both the German and French governments have fallen apart.
The situation is particularly dire in France, where the national debt has now risen to 110% of GDP and where the current budget deficit is 6% of GDP – twice the level the EU regards as the norm. The French stock market has fallen sharply, bond yields have risen, and the Euro has fallen badly against the dollar. And whereas a German election seems likely to return a strong government of the centre-right, there is no such certainty in France.
Moreover, the crisis arrives at the worst possible moment for the country’s all-important motor industry. The possible bankruptcy of the Stellantis Group means panic stations for its two biggest brands, Citroen and Peugeot. Renault sought salvation through a tie-up with Nissan, but Nissan itself is now threatened with bankruptcy, leaving Renault in queer street as well.
Ultimately, of course, these firms are the victims of the onslaught on the market of new cars from South Korea, China and India. Under normal circumstances this crisis would be consuming every last minute of President Emmanuel Macron’s time – instead of which he was frantically looking around for someone to appoint as prime minister before Donald Trump arrived for the Notre Dame reopening.
The crisis began with the European elections in June, which in turn followed a bitter and hard-fought battle over Macron’s raising of the pensionable age. There is absolutely no doubt that this was financially essential, but it ran hard up against the French notion of les acquis sociaux (social gains). Each time that the electorate gains any new advantage, this is immediately chalked up as an acquis social, which means it can never thereafter be reversed.
The result is a ratchet effect out of touch with reality. It is, after all, entirely clear that life expectancy has risen a great deal, meaning that pensions have to support people for far longer. In every other European state the resulting increases in the pensionable age have been accepted with a shrug, but in France the populists of both Left and Right saw this as the crime of the century.
Partly as a result of this battle, Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National ran well ahead with 31.37% of the vote – and her niece, Marion Marechal, won another 5.47% on an even further-Right ticket, giving the far Right bloc almost 37% in total, compared to 14.6% for Macron’s Ensemble party, 12.8% for the moderate Left and 9.89% for the far Left. This convinced Macron that Le Pen was coasting towards an inevitable victory in the April 2027 presidential election and that he must take action to brake her momentum.
So he called an entirely unnecessary legislative election. The RN ran well ahead on the first round, but tactical voting to “keep the fascists out” saw the Left’s New Popular Front alliance emerge as the largest bloc in the Assembly, led by Jean-Luc Melenchon, followed by Macron’s Centrists and only then by the RN and various other conservatives. Seeking consensus from this assembly is a labour of Sisyphus.
Melenchon has since demanded, as of right, that Macron must appoint a prime minister from the Left – an absurdity, for the Left has no majority and Melenchon himself is a deeply unpopular figure. But the arithmetic of the new parliament meant that if the populist Left and Right ever got together, they had the votes to throw out Macron’s appointed premier, Michel Barnier. Which is exactly what has just happened, after Barnier tried to force through an austerity budget – which is indeed financially essential.
Melenchon has reacted by declaring that he will now do all he can to force Macron to resign. But constitutionally there is no way that he can actually make Macron do that, and Macron says he will never resign. Le Pen, interestingly, says she has no ambition to force Macron’s resignation – signalling, perhaps, that he might still do a deal with her.
The shock this deals to French opinion is considerable. Ever since Charles De Gaulle replaced the chaotic Fourth Republic with the new Constitution of the Fifth Republic in 1958, France has had fairly strong and stable governments, and people have got into the habit of thinking that there can never be a return to the musical chairs of the Fourth Republic, with governments falling every six months on average.
But, of course, no constitution is proof against irresponsible politicians and an unfavourable balance of forces. Looking back, French commentators now all realise that Macron’s impulsive decision to call snap legislative elections has opened a Pandora’s Box which he is powerless to close.
Macron has only one trump card left. Elected by universal suffrage, he is the only French politician with a truly national mandate: in France only the top two contenders go through to the second round of a presidential election, thus guaranteeing that the winner has over 50% of the vote. The president thus inevitably dominates the French political system – and De Gaulle made it clear that the president has a special responsibility in defence and foreign affairs.
To be sure, Macron will have to appoint a prime minister who can get some sort of budget through and “mind the shop” as far as domestic affairs are concerned, but Macron can lead the way on defence and world affairs, and effectively cannot be removed, for the requirements to impeach him make this almost impossibly difficult (though the Left will try).
There is a lesson here for South Africans. They too have become used to the idea that their fine new constitution guarantees them political stability. But in fact that stability was entirely dependent on the ANC getting over 50% of the vote. The ANC’s collapse has resulted in the GNU. But it might very easily – and it might still – result in an ANC-MK-EFF coalition. This would produce a crashing rand and stock market, a panicky mass emigration of business people and professionals, huge capital flight, chronic political instability, and runaway corruption. The constitution would not help in the slightest to stop that – and, indeed, the constitution and the Constitutional Court would not long survive such an outcome.
There are many problems with the South African constitution. The voting system in appalling and undemocratic. Many of the constitution’s commitments are fanciful. The powers of the presidency are not delineated sufficiently; several of the Chapter Nine institutions need to be abolished; and so on. But over and over again, the ANC passes laws which completely ignore constitutional requirements, and the MKP and EFF would clearly do away with the constitution altogether, so constitutionalists hang on desperately to the constitution they have for fear of complete anarchy as an alternative.
In the polling I have done over the last seven years, we have consistently asked voters whether they would favour direct election of the president. Those in favour have moved from 33% in 2017 to 42% in 2019 to 60% in 2024. This would, I think, be a highly beneficial change. You can see the effect in France. Whereas in their multi-party system it is rare for any party to exceed 35% of the vote on the first round, by definition the president has to win over 50% of the vote. Which is to say, the presidential majority is quite different from the bloc of votes behind the biggest party, and this gives the president not only a commanding position but a certain independence even from his own party.
Inevitably, this would happen in South Africa too. A Ramaphosa would be much less of a captive of the ANC NEC than he is under the present system. And a Ramaphosa would know that in order to win re-election, he would need to pick up not only almost all the ANC vote but at least 10% from elsewhere – presumably from his party’s GNU partners. This would force him to take a broader, national view of key issues.
If such a reform were accompanied by the adoption of the electoral reform proposed by the Slabbert Commission, MPs would also gain greater independence of the president, thus creating a less pliable legislature. The ironic effect would be to allow the institutions of our Republic to operate in the way the drafters of the constitution hoped and envisaged, releasing them to some degree from the straitjacket of the “party line” which has squeezed much of the life out of them since 1994.