Since January, French presidential polls have resembled an electrocardiogram with one node attached to a terminal patient and the other to a newborn. While some of the arcs are tracing the demise of one political system, others track the birth of another. Where these arcs eventually plateau remains to be seen, but they suggest that the Fifth Republic, created nearly 60 years ago, may not reach its 70th anniversary.
Were Dr. Frankenstein watching the blue marine arc to this EKG, he would now be shouting toward the darkening sky: “It lives, it lives!” Across all the major polls, one of the most striking indications has been the consistent strength shown by Marine Le Pen, leader of the far-right Front National. From early January through late March, Le Pen has led the pack of contenders, rising as high as 28 percent in a February Elabe survey and a March OpinionWay poll, and never dipping below 24 percent.
As a number of sociologists and political scientists argue, these numbers reveal that the FN is no longer a protest party. Rather than voting against the traditional parties, FN supporters are now voting for their party: its economic policies and its promise of renewed authority. By ridding the party of the neo-Nazi, anti-Semitic, and pro-Vichy elements that had marked it in the past, Le Pen has turned the FN into a political machine comme les autres.
This fact was rammed home two weeks ago, in the first of three televised debates among the French presidential candidates. Standing with the four other leading candidates, Le Pen attracted fewer barbs over the long evening than did the independent centrist Emmanuel Macron. And while Macron and Le Pen exchanged heated words over the wearing of the so-called burkini -- rarely has a garment worn by so few done so much to roil so many -- the skirmish has lost the existential edge it once had. While Le Pen insists she is running against the system, changing political realities suggest otherwise. By softening her party’s sharpest edges, and shifting rightward the national debate over immigration and identity, Le Pen has in fact become part of the system.
A wide open field
The European Union’s corruption case against the Front National -- it accuses Le Pen of paying FN staff workers with EU funds earmarked for parliamentary assistants -- underscores just how commonplace Le Pen’s party has become. After all, the charge of emplois fictifs, or phony jobs, also led to the dizzying tailspin of Francois Fillon, candidate of the conservative Les Republicains. In January, French voters learned from the weekly paper Le Canard Enchaine that they had paid one of Fillon’s parliamentary assistants, his wife Penelope Fillon, nearly a million euros over several years to do little more than open her husband’s mail and opine on his speeches, and tens of thousands of euros to two of his children for their legal expertise when they were not yet lawyers. Since then, Le Canard Enchaine has revealed that powerful friends have also feted Fillon with pricey suits, pricier watches, and priceless -- i.e., interest-free -- loans.
Not surprisingly, the charges against Fillon are all the more explosive because he had presented himself not just as Monsieur Clean but also as Monsieur Austerity, insisting on the sacrifices French workers will need to make to balance the budget. Not unexpectedly, Fillon has tried to place his ethical and legal woes at the door of a left-wing conspiracy -- a black door, one assumes, since it leads to a “black Cabinet” within the Socialist government determined to bring down the candidate of la France silencieuse. But Fillon’s conspiracy-mongering has been to little avail: Since February, when a French court opened an investigation into “Penelopegate,” the candidate’s polling numbers have tanked. After having pummeled Alain Juppe in last year’s Republicains primary, Fillon could claim the support of more than a quarter of French voters. Three months later -- and just three weeks shy of the first round -- his support has dropped considerably. According to the RealClearWorld average of polls, Fillon now sits at about 18 percent.
In this unpredictable electoral season, Fillon might well be overtaken by his ideological nemesis, Jean-Luc Melenchon. Disenchanted with French socialism’s creeping liberalization, Melenchon quit the party in 2008 and eventually founded the movement La France Insoumise (Defiant France). Not only has Melenchon defied the traditional party structure of the Fifth Republic, but he has also defied the traditional forms of political campaigning. He has explored the use of holograms and has exploited social media to broadcast his message -- a message that is unapologetically socialist or, as his many critics contend, dangerously utopian. He vows to introduce, among other things, a sixth week of paid vacation -- yes, Virginia, France already guarantees five weeks of paid vacation -- for all salaried workers, and impose a 100 percent tax on those who earn more than 33,000 euros a month.
It is not just Melenchon’s proposals, but also his pugnaciousness that has proved popular. Many political observers believe he gave the most convincing performance during the first debate; when not hammering away at the corruption charges hovering over the heads of Fillon and Le Pen, he was making jokes at the expense of Emmanuel Macron, who had served as economics minister under the Socialists, and the Socialist candidate Benoit Hamon. Paradoxically, while more comfortable than his opponents in front of the cameras, Melenchon also appeared to be the most authentic. The post-debate results have been telling: Polling at approximately 10 percent in January, Melenchon has now risen to 15 percent. While few observers believe Melenchon can make it into the second round, at least one bank is willing to bet on the anti-capitalist candidate: Earlier this week, Melenchon secured a 5 million euro loan for his campaign.
Melenchon’s rise has largely been at Hamon’s expense. The surprise winner of the Socialist Party’s primary in January, Hamon has discovered that it was easier to be the party’s leading frondeur, or left-wing rebel, than its assembleur, or unifier. While his program tacks hard to the left, especially in its promise of a guaranteed universal income, Hamon is nevertheless shackled to President Francois Hollande’s less-than-shimmering legacy. Even more problematic, he represents a party divided by a deep ideological fault line. While some on the party’s hard left have turned to Melenchon, many more on the hard right have been defecting to Macron. As the list of the party’s most powerful figures rallying to Macron lengthens -- from former Paris Mayor Bertrand Delanoe through Minister of Defense Jean-Yves Le Drian to former Prime Minister Manuel Valls -- the cries of “treason” and “betrayal” deepen from those who refuse to abandon Hamon.
Despair on the left
While these imprecations might delight the disintegrating core of the Socialist Party, they will not stanch their candidate Hamon’s hemorrhaging in the polls. A March 30 Elabe survey revealed that Hamon and Melenchon have reversed the dynamic they held one month earlier: Hamon now attracts little more than 10 percent. The bleeding continued in the latest poll by Odoxa, which found Hamon sinking into single digits. Hamon’s recent call for Melenchon to make a common front with the Socialists was akin to a drowning man clinging to a bit of flotsam in high seas, inviting the skipper of a passing yacht to join him. The offer smacked of desperation and, predictably, Melenchon spurned it: “I will not negotiate anything with anyone at this point,” he announced at a raucous rally with dockworkers at Le Havre.
Surprisingly, Melenchon did not turn the offer around, instead calling on Hamon to drop out of the race. Were he to do so, a united left would not only outdistance Fillon, but catch up to the true singularity of this race -- and the true bête noire of both men -- Emmanuel Macron. The former investment banker, former presidential adviser, and former minister of the economy, a 39-year-old wunderkind who has never held elective office, a chameleon to some, an enigma to others, might well become France’s next president. With his economic and social proposals remaining artfully vague, Macron is clearly seeking to straddle the elusive middle of French politics. So far he is succeeding. Not only has he attracted right-leaning Socialists such as Le Drian and left-leaning conservatives such as Dominique Perben, but also centrist politicians such as Francois Bayrou, the always-respected but never-elected three-time presidential candidate.
Whether the voters will follow is, no doubt, the greatest question hanging over the first round. Over the last several weeks, Macron’s polling has grown steadily; according to a March 30 Ifop poll, he has taken pole position, leading Le Pen 26 percent to 25.5 percent. But there is a crucial difference between the two leading candidates, one based on the nature of the voters. Le Pen’s support, which has been consistent over several months, consists of voters who have made up their minds. Macron’s supporters are far more volatile. On March 28, an Ipsos poll revealed that nearly one half (47 percent) of those planning to vote for Macron declared they might still change their mind before April 23.
For a newcomer to politics, Macron has made remarkably few faux pas. His performance in the first debate, especially in his clash with Le Pen, revealed that he not only has a sharp tongue but also a moral spine when he accused the FN leader of stirring hatred and fear. The second debate on April 4, unlike the first debate, will include all 11 presidential candidates. Despite the enlarged cast, all eyes will be on three candidates -- Le Pen, Melenchon, and Macron -- none representing one of France’s traditional political parties. Regardless how the debate, and the first round, sorts itself out, politics as usual in France will be the great loser.
