Exiting the metro station ‘8 mai 1945’ (Victory in Europe Day) in La Courneuve, a tough working-class district in the north of Paris, on election day you can’t miss the new market hall looking onto the neighbourhood’s central area, le quartier de quatres routes. So called because its focal point is a very busy roundabout with junctions to the north, south, east and west. With its garish, multicoloured façade, it looks bright and bold. It was built by the town council and opened in 2018 to modernise the area’s large market and free up space in the narrow surrounding streets. A former country redoubt in the nineteenth century and early twentieth century, La Courneuve was modernised after the war. Huge estates were built rapidly in the fifties. The new market is in marked contrast to its surroundings – row on row of drab tower blocks.
It’s an area with one of the highest proportions of immigrants in Paris. According to L‘Institut national de la statistique et des études économiques (INSEE), 75% of under-18s were born to non-European parents. Not only Arabic and French are in evidence. The visitor hears snatches of various other languages in its cafes and bars. According to the Mayor, Gilles Poux, who has been in post since 1996, its 45,000 inhabitants are split into over 100 nationalities.
It’s no surprise therefore that the possibility of a Le Pen presidency is viewed with trepidation. In a butcher’s in a side street I meet Boualem, who tells me he is Algerian but has lived in France for decades. “Macron will win,” he tells me, “because there are enough of the French who reject the history that Le Pen represents. Her father (Jean-Marie Le Pen) reminds them of the history of collaboration and Vichy. Enough of the French remember that.” A quite elderly butcher chips in: “It would be good if Le Pen won because it would shake things up. But I’m Maghrebian – I can’t vote for her.” Cue wearisome looks from his younger colleagues. One of the other butchers replies: “There’s not much of a choice, it’s true. But still better to not vote for a racist.”
In the first round, the far left candidate Jean-Luc Melenchon won 63.95% of the vote in La Courneuve. Macron won only 14.66% and Le Pen, 9.39%. I found absolutely no enthusiasm for Macron there. Indeed, for Boualem, Macron is a creature of the state and the system: “Macron is the president of the rich. He does not care about ordinary people, people like us who just get on with it. You Westerners like to believe in democracy but what matters is the state. They decide things. And Macron represents this system.”
This sense of cynicism is reflected in what looks from initial estimates like one of the lower turnouts in French history. The young feel let down by Macron, who promised a lot on gender reforms and the environment but hasn’t delivered. Marie, a young professional based in Paris, tells me that his idealism has felt opportunistic. He promised initially to appoint a female PM. In 2020, he named a new Minister of the Interior, Gérald Darmanin, who had been accused of sexual assault and rape. According to Charles, who is based in the centre of Paris, support for Macron can be roughly summed up by the slogan: “Mieux vaut un vote qui pue qu’un vote qui tue.” (Better to vote for someone who stinks rather than someone who kills).
In a bar off the Rue De Crimee near Gare Du Nord, I meet George, 84, a former cultural envoy, who strikes a similar tone. “Macron is so pleased with himself, so supercilious. But I’m voting for him. It hasn’t been the worst government in Europe in the last five years.” He strikes a fatalistic note: “Governing the French is a nightmare. The same people will vote for a candidate and be out protesting against them in the streets the very next day.”
You can see signs of election day in process. Little queues forming outside local schools – it does feel rather grander than polling days in the UK. The French vote in venues of some civic significance, their town hall or the state school. The grandeur of the process reflects the awesome responsibilities of the French Presidency, often referred to as an elected dictatorship. In Paris, unlikeable Macron is seen as the best bet for five more tough years.