The collapse of the Fifth Republic

Emmanuel Macron was sworn in as President of the Fifth Republic on May 14, 2017. The ceremony left a disturbing image. Macron walked alone through the halls of the Louvre—with a camera in front of him—until he entered the oath-taking room. I was tempted to time it, and it lasted four and a half minutes, at the pace of the superman who was about to marry the Queen. magnitude of the homeland. Who would have thought it now? Eight years later, the man who was supposed to be the beacon of 21st-century France is experiencing the disarray of a country crumbling, and witnessing the dismissal of a prime minister he appointed who barely lasted nine months. Macron, even before turning fifty, has all the makings of being nothing more than a former president of the Republic.

These are the misfortunes of a country that finds it hard to believe it is not the center of the world, and that has remained trapped in the legacy of the Fifth Republic, oblivious to the changes taking place in the world. And it has encountered an underlying crisis—general malaise—that is shaking the European Union, increasingly out of the game at a time when—fools us—we still wanted to believe we would be capable of counterbalancing the authoritarian tendencies of the great powers. When Macron arrived, he seemed aware of what is now evident: that, as Alain Duhamel says, we are undergoing a change of regime and society. If he intended to lead it, it has completely slipped from his grasp. With the dissolution of the National Assembly in June 2024, he put himself directly out of the game. And the president, in the midst of a crisis of authority, has less and less room for further patching.

Often against the grain of evidence, France has tried to make us believe that Europe was passing through it. Germany's past and Britain's skeptical distance played in its favor. And yet, it has never quite found the right tone, in part because of the emphatic idea of the French homeland inherited from General de Gaulle, which everyone has sought to imitate without his authority or sense of grandeur. This is the only way to explain the resounding fall into disrepute of Macron, the most harmonized of the presidents of that period. The assessment of his administration places France fully in tune with the European moment. Who is capitalizing on this failure? The far right, as across the continent. And let's not forget the electoral debate over Macron's reelection, in which he gave full recognition to his rival, Marine Le Pen. Now everyone is starting to sign up. Like his predecessor, Nicolas Sarkozy. A sad assessment of a presidency that was supposed to take on the world: the far right is no longer taboo, and is ready to govern France. And even more so: who is on the rise today across Europe?

What has become of the liberal and conservative right? What's the point of this reverential fear of a far right that—in Spain too—is hot on their heels and cornering them? Have they accepted that this is the future and, therefore, that democracy is slipping away due to the demands of those in power and the bewilderment of the citizens? What do von der Leyen's capitulation to Trump—with everyone's complicity, no one has called for her resignation—and Macron's sad end have in common? The farce of these days in a France in clear decline is a warning about what happens when we refuse to acknowledge that it is inequalities that are shaky politics, that immigration is the great alibi that leaders irresponsibly use, and that the rule of law is in danger because people don't feel recognized. Those in power don't want to hear it. "The debt is each of us," says François Bayrou, bordering on cynicism.