Some political theorists see the European Union – at its core – as a deal between France and Germany. After the second World War, Germany was forcibly divided and politically neutralised by the Allies. The rip-it-up-and-start-again approach, however, unleashed massive productivity gains and West Germany quickly became Europe’s powerhouse economy.
By 1989, it was third-largest economy in the world, trailing only Japan and the United States in terms of gross domestic product (GDP). France had a more dithering postwar economic path, culminating in a disastrous solo run in the early 1980s when Francois Mitterand’s short-lived “socialist experiment” triggered an inflation and foreign exchange crisis.
The episode illustrated the increasingly integrated nature of the global financial system and the potential dangers of sailing against the wind of financial orthodoxy. Former UK prime minister Liz Truss’s ill-fated mini budget in 2022 provides a more recent example.
In the 1980s, the European project had ground to a halt.
The subsequent drive towards greater integration, championed by Europhiles such as Jacques Delors and culminating in the landmark Maastricht treaty of 1993 and later the single currency, wouldn’t have been possible without a major Franco-German push.
[ France election: Voter turnout high as far right bids for power amid threat of deadlock ]
The pact theory suggests that in return for agreeing to a united Germany and Germany’s resurrection as a political force on the world stage through a more politically integrated EU, France got back control of its economy.
The process would see the once all-powerful Bundesbank cede control of the continent’s monetary policy to the multilateral European Central Bank (ECB).
Of course there was no formal agreement between France and Germany, just the subtle processes of history. The politics-for-economics deal is merely a way of interpreting events.
But what happens if one of the partners in this theoretical compact becomes hostile to the project?
Domestically, France could be facing a period of ‘cohabitation’ where the president runs defence and foreign policy, but not domestic policy
French president Emmanuel Macron’s snap election gamble in response to his party’s poor European election showing was intended to shock France out of its flirtation with the far-right politics of Marine Le Pen and her National Rally (RN) party.
Even with the left wing New Popular Front the biggest group, according to the widely trusted exit poll on Sunday night, the genie is firmly out of the bottle. While Le Pen’s Eurosceptic, anti-immigration party has come in third, it is now closer to power than it ever has been.
Europe’s former Brexit negotiator Michel Barnier has accused Macron of engineering France’s “Frexit” moment.
Le Pen did – at one time – support the idea of France exiting the EU but this policy appears to have been dropped from recent party manifestos, suggesting she has been fine-tuning her offering to appeal to middle-ground voters, a process of “de-demonising” the RN that has brought it from the fringes to the mainstream.
She spent most of the 2000s distancing herself and the party from her father Jean-Marie’s neo-fascist tendencies and her family’s links to the collaborationist Vichy regime.
The party’s current 28-year-old leader Jordan Bardella was handpicked by Le Pen to further purge it of its racist roots.
That said, Le Pen’s rise reflects the surge in economic and cultural populism now gripping Europe, a reaction to globalisation and mass migration.
She claims globalisation is destroying French values as well as the country’s native industries. Combined with global Islam, she says these ideologies “want to subjugate our country, one in the name of financial globalisation, the other in the name of fundamentalist Islam”.
While the political ramifications of Sunday’s second-round legislative election have still to play out, Le Pen’s rise will test not only France’s allegiance to the European project but the operation of the EU itself and at a crucial juncture with the world ablaze in a new cold war and a belligerent Russia attacking a country on its border.
Le Pen says she will legislate a “national preference” for French businesses and agriculture in breach of the rules of the European single market while conducting a review of EU free-trade agreements that do not “respect” France.
She also opposed to any further enlargement of the bloc. One French voter told me that in the past many people voted for Le Pen as a protest against the government but now they actively want to try her out in government.
A recent Ipsos poll for the Financial Times indicated that French voters trusted the RN more than any other party to manage the economy and public finances despite the lack of government experience and what critics claim is the party’s unfunded tax-cutting and spending plans.
If the far right had achieved a parliamentary majority, France could have faced a period of “cohabitation” where the president runs defence and foreign policy, leaving domestic policy to the far right.
Macron might have been banking on Le Pen’s party being compromised or losing its appeal from a stint in government. French voters tend to turn on incumbents more quickly than most. It doesn’t look like it will come to that.
Bringing the far right closer to power to reverse its rise is, however, an extremely high-stakes game of political poker. Far-right populism hasn’t deterred voters in other countries. The US and Italy are testament to that.
