The big question to be answered in this Sunday’s second round of France’s regional elections is at one level very simple: does anyone care who wins?
France’s regional assemblies – reconfigured in 2015 – are important. They take key decisions on schools, public transport and economic development. What they do ought to matter, yet the message that came across after last Sunday’s first round of voting was that the French don’t much care who is in charge. Just one third of the 48 million-strong electorate bothered to take part, rendering the result, in terms of who looks best placed to win next year’s presidential elections, less convincing than the latest monthly opinion poll.
In headline terms, the outcome was good for incumbents. The centre-right and the Socialists held on, while the Far Right, in the shape of Marine Le Pen, made little headway and En Marche, the brainchild of President Emmanuel Macron, barely registered.
It was as if a war had been fought in which few were killed or wounded and nothing changed.
The focus now is on the two-thirds who stayed away. This was their chance to show the direction in which they wished France to go after four years of Macronisme and a debilitating pandemic that has revaged the economy and locked down the people. In 2017 and 2018, the gilets-jaunes were out in force, demanding that Macron pay attention to ordinary workers and their families, particularly in the provinces. The following two years saw the trade unions, backed by the hard-left, take to the streets in opposition to controversial pension reforms. There were demonstrations against the way in which the police dealt with protesters and minorities, mixed in with expressions of rage over immigration, Black Lives Matter and how best to deal with Islamist terror.
Against such a backdrop, it might have been supposed that voters would grab the chance of nationwide elections to register their dismay at the way in which France is being governed or, alternatively, to indicate which of the opposition factions they think might do a better job. Instead, a combination of cynicism and political narcolepsy has led to an unprecedented level of abstention and to the fear that it is democracy itself that is increasingly on trial.
The rot was already evident last summer, when some 55 per cent of registered voters abstained in the big city metropolitan elections, allowing a swing away from the established parties in favour, mainly, of the Greens, but also the hard left. What the regionals have shown, thus far, is that faith in state institutions is declining at a worrying rate.
It could be, of course, that voters will wake up Sunday and, having wiped the sleep from their eyes, conclude that the time has come to do their civic duty. Maybe half the electorate will turn out, or more, even if what they vote for is, typically, more of the same. But it could well be that the viewing figures for Monday night’s game between France and Switzerland in the last sixteen of the European football championships will easily surpass the numbers prepared to engage with those presenting themselves for public office.
In terms of winners and losers, it is President Macron and his Blairite La République en Marche who face the most daunting task. The governing party, which won both the Élysée and the National Assembly by near-record margins in 2017, only just cleared the 10 per cent threshhold in the first round of the regionals that allowed it to enter Sunday’s run-off. It has failed totally to insert itself into the structure of French politics and remains wholly dependent on the fortunes of its founder. If Macron, as I still think possible, rallies during the eleven months leading up to next April’s presidential contest, it is possible that En Marche will survive. But if he fails, little or nothing of his creation is expected to remain.
On the right, the battle is between the Rassemblement National, or National Rally, led by Marine Le Pen, and the more naturally conservative Républicains, led by [insert name here]. Le Pen was expected by many to come out best in the regionals, with victories in the Far North and Deep South, plus at least two more second places. But as she has moderated her once near-Fascist attack lines in a bid to appear less threatening to middle France, so she has lessened her appeal to the disaffected right, which no longer knows quite what to make of her.
It was in fact the centre-right that, against all expectations, came out best in the first round, leading to speculation that Xavier Bertrand, a popular figure from the days of Jacques Chirac and Nicolas Sarkozy, may yet be persuaded to fill in the leadership blank.
Bertrand looks set not only to hold on to his presidency of the Hauts-de-France region, centred on Lille, but to become a standard-bearer for new-style, old-style conservatism. Others who might hope to be cast in the role include David Lisnard, the mayor of Cannes and something of a latter-day media star, and General Pierre de Villiers, forced out by Macron as chief of the defence staff after a bitter dispute over cuts to the military budget. Whoever does finally emerge as the face of the centre will have less than a year in which to make up for more than a decade’s worth of lost ground.
On the left, if results from the first round are carried through into round two, the Socialist Party, almost wiped out nationally in 2017, may hold on to chunks of what remains of its regional power base. But a more general revival still looks to be a long way off.
When the results of Sunday’s elections are announced, the shape of next year’s presidential contest should become clear. Will it, after the initial multi-party skirmishes, be a straight fight between Macron and Le Pen, or will the Republicans muddy the waters? It is the millions who, out of boredom or frustration, abstained in last week’s vote who must make the final call.