J’accuse: Macron’s reckless part in Barnier’s downfall

If France was expecting president Emmanuel Macron to try to dispel the sense of crisis following the collapse of the government, it had another think coming.

In a nationwide broadcast on Thursday evening (that was at times high-handed and pugnacious), he blamed the opposition on left and right for putting themselves before the voters and uniting in an “anti-Republican’ – ie anti-French – front. He rejected calls for his resignation, saying he would not assume other people’s responsibilities, but said he would name a new prime minister within days.

Michel Barnier, prime minister for only three months, had been forced to resign after losing a no-confidence vote in the National Assembly in which MPs at both ends of the political spectrum united to bring him down. The issue at stake was a cost and deficit-cutting Budget that Barnier had tried to propel into law over the heads of MPs.

Now it has to be said that all this is the predictable, if dramatic, working of the French constitution – but the timing could hardly be worse. It leaves France potentially with no government as Macron prepares to receive dignitaries from all over the world for the reopening of the magnificently restored Notre-Dame Cathedral on Saturday. In what is seen as quite a diplomatic coup for the French president, the guests are to include US president-elect Donald Trump.

It has also to be said that Macron’s problems are largely, if not entirely, of his own making. In what seemed an impetuous – even reckless – response to the European elections in June, Macron dissolved the National Assembly and called new parliamentary elections, which only made matters worse. From a hung parliament which was just about able to find a consensus, the elections produced a National Assembly sharply divided between far-left and far-right, with a smaller centrist contingent than before.

Macron then took two months to appoint the veteran politician (and former chief Brexit negotiator) Michel Barnier as prime minister, and the choice satisfied no one. The left bloc, which has a majority in the current parliament, protested that the appointment of a centre-right prime minister was undemocratic. Marine Le Pen, leader of the populist right party, National Rally, which is the biggest single party in the National Assembly, protested that the new head of government was not right-wing enough. Barnier’s eviction was only a matter of time.

Macron is now politically marooned and has lost one obvious way out: calling yet more new elections – the constitution stipulates that there can be no new elections within the year.

So long as the National Assembly and the French electorate remain as split as they are, and as unamenable to austerity in any form, the chances of a new prime minister succeeding where Barnier failed look vanishingly small. With Macron intent on remaining in office until 2027, France looks to be in for a rough ride. Some forecast that popular frustration could spill out onto the streets, which would further complicate the task for any new government.

To be sure, France’s high-profile successes – Notre-Dame, the Olympics – may go some way towards calming the political turmoil at home and rescuing France’s image abroad. It could also be argued that so long as the president – even one as weakened as Macron – is in place, any damage to France’s standing abroad will be limited, because foreign and defence policy are primarily presidential responsibilities.

These potentially saving graces start to look rather fragile, however, when viewed from the perspective of the wider neighbourhood. The imminent return to the White House of Donald Trump is already causing many countries to adjust their words, if not their deeds, with two stated policy intentions of particular concern to Europe: his threat to use tariffs against trade competitors including the EU, and his pledge to end the war in Ukraine.

How far Trump will, or will be able to, act on his promises, is open to question. But he returns with experience of office and, to judge by the pace of his appointments, a desire to hit the ground running. To be equal to the challenge that awaits, the Europeans will have to show a united front.

It can be done. The EU successfully fended off US steel tariffs in 2002. But the EU of then and the EU of now are not the same. Differences of priorities and emphasis have been surfacing all over. Time was when the duo of France and Germany was regarded as Europe’s strong core and the dynamo for development. With the UK in the EU, these three big – and in many ways complementary – economies could make the EU hard to beat. That is no longer the case.

And it is not only France that is in trouble. Fallout from the Ukraine war, as well as what many see as the inertia bequeathed by Angela Merkel, have caused a serious downturn in Germany, along with social and political tensions over migration and the cost of supporting Ukraine. Last month, a dispute over the Budget led to the collapse of Germany’s three-party coalition and an election has been called for February, when chancellor Olaf Scholz’s centre-left Social Democratic Party is expected to lose power.

Regional elections last autumn foreshadowed a campaign in which divisions over Ukraine are set to loom large. The probable outcome is a centre-right-led coalition, but Germany is unlikely to have a functioning new government before the late spring.

With the stance of the future government on Ukraine uncertain and support in France almost as unpopular with Le Pen’s National Rally as it is with Germany’s far-right, European support for Ukraine is looking a lot less solid than it once did. There are splits across the EU as well, with the Nordic and Baltic countries holding firm in their support, Hungary and the southern European countries less so, and Poland firm on military support, but much less so bringing Ukraine – a potential agricultural competitor – into the EU.

As of now, it is hard to envisage the EU as a whole pursuing a united policy, and even more so if France and Germany are both effectively missing in action. For this to be happening at the very moment when the new US administration could be preparing to pass primary responsibility for supporting Ukraine to Europe does not augur well – either for Ukraine or for the EU as a diplomatic, let alone economic and security, player.

The EU used to be sought-after as a mediator and it notched up successes, including the nuclear agreement with Iran. Some would still like it to play a bigger role internationally, but the unity of purpose from Brussels is less in evidence. During the recent multiple crises in the Middle East, for instance, the EU, as a group, has said little and done less.

Some point to opportunities for the UK to join its former EU partners in the union to boost help, in particular, for Ukraine – although Nato could be the more promising vehicle. Also to join future EU diplomatic efforts elsewhere. Without France and Germany both engaged, however, it is hard to see any joint EU initiative, with or without the UK, getting off the ground.

In the spring of 2022, in the immediate aftermath of Russia’s invasion and Ukraine’s successful resistance, the EU was priding itself on the unity of its response. Not only has that unity dissipated, but the political difficulties besetting Germany and France stem in many respects from this war.

Nor can there be much hope of any cohesive EU diplomatic or other efforts until Germany and France have settled governments. With Donald Trump taking office on 20 January and the next few months looking decisive for Ukraine and the Middle East, the EU – at its best a benevolent regional player – risks missing out on having a say in what happens next.