[2017-Present] Macron's Presidency and Political Realignment

The year is 2017. The grand old parties of the French Fifth Republic, the Socialists on the left and the Republicans on the right, are crumbling. For decades, they had been the twin pillars of French political life, trading power back and forth. But now, they lay in ruins, hollowed out by years of perceived failures and a growing disconnect with the people. Into this vacuum strode a figure unlike any seen before in modern French politics: Emmanuel Macron. He was young, just 39, a former investment banker and Economy Minister who seemed to radiate an almost unnerving confidence. He broke from the Socialist government he served, creating his own political movement from scratch, named 'En Marche!' or 'On the Move!'. It was a name that perfectly captured the sentiment he was selling: dynamism, progress, and a definitive break from the stagnant past. He was a centrist, pro-business and ardently pro-European Union, positioning himself as the only rational choice against the surging tides of nationalism embodied by his chief rival, the far-right leader Marine Le Pen.

The presidential election of 2017 was a political earthquake. The traditional right-wing candidate, François Fillon, once the clear favorite, saw his campaign implode amid a financial scandal. This cleared the way for a final, dramatic showdown between Macron and Le Pen—the liberal internationalist against the nationalist populist. The very soul of France seemed to be at stake. When the votes were counted, Macron had won a resounding victory, securing over 66% of the vote. But a shadow lingered over the celebration: a record-high abstention rate and a large number of blank ballots revealed a deeply fractured electorate, many of whom had not voted for Macron, but against Le Pen. From his victory stage in the courtyard of the Louvre, Macron promised to heal the nation's divisions. He began his presidency with a governing style critics quickly labeled 'Jupiterian,' after the Roman king of the gods. He acted swiftly and decisively, pushing through a flurry of reforms with his newly-won parliamentary majority. He overhauled France's complex labor code to make it easier to hire and fire, cut wealth and corporate taxes to attract investment, and took on the powerful railway unions to reform the state-owned SNCF. To his supporters, he was a bold modernizer. To his detractors, he was the 'president of the rich,' an arrogant Parisian elite completely detached from the struggles of ordinary people.

That detachment would soon have explosive consequences. In the autumn of 2018, the government announced a modest increase in a fuel tax, intended to fund green energy initiatives. It was the spark that lit a national firestorm. Across the small towns and rural areas of what became known as 'La France périphérique'—peripheral France—a spontaneous protest movement erupted. People donned the high-visibility yellow vests, the 'gilets jaunes,' that all French drivers are required to keep in their cars, and began blockading roundabouts and toll booths. It was a leaderless, raw, and visceral cry of economic pain and social anger. For months, hundreds of thousands of protesters, feeling left behind by globalization and ignored by Paris, vented their fury. Every Saturday, a sense of dread descended on the capital as protests on the Champs-Élysées and other symbolic locations devolved into clashes with police, clouds of tear gas, burning cars, and smashed storefronts. The Arc de Triomphe itself was vandalized, an act that shocked the nation. The Gilets Jaunes movement revealed the deep, simmering resentment that Macron's victory had masked. It was a revolt against his policies, his style, and the very idea of a distant, top-down authority.

Shaken, the 'Jupiterian' president was forced to descend from his lofty throne. He cancelled the fuel tax hike and announced a series of concessions worth over 10 billion euros, including a rise in the minimum wage and tax relief for pensioners. More importantly, he changed his method. He launched a 'Grand Débat National,' a series of town hall meetings across the country where, for hours on end, he would stand and listen to the grievances of local mayors and citizens. It was a remarkable political pivot, an attempt to repair the broken link between the president and the people. While the Gilets Jaunes protests eventually faded, the scars remained, and Macron's presidency was irrevocably altered. The era of unchecked reform was over, replaced by a more cautious and consultative approach. Just as a fragile new equilibrium seemed to be settling in, the world was upended by a crisis that dwarfed all others: the COVID-19 pandemic.

In March 2020, Macron addressed the nation with a grave tone. 'Nous sommes en guerre,' he declared—'We are at war.' France entered one of the strictest lockdowns in Europe. The bustling streets of Paris fell silent, the café terraces were empty, and life was confined to a one-kilometer radius from home. The government unleashed a massive economic support package, promising to spend 'whatever it costs' to keep businesses and workers afloat, a policy that saw the national debt balloon. The crisis tested the French state to its limits, from the initial shortages of masks to the immense logistical challenge of a nationwide vaccination campaign. It also put Macron back at the center of national life, this time not as a divisive reformer, but as a crisis manager steering the country through a once-in-a-century public health emergency. His handling of the pandemic, while not without criticism, bolstered his stature as a leader on the international stage.

By the time the 2022 presidential election arrived, the political landscape had solidified. It was a rematch: Macron versus Le Pen. He won again, this time with a reduced but still comfortable margin of 58.5%. His victory, however, was a prelude to a stunning setback. In the subsequent legislative elections, his centrist coalition, 'Ensemble!,' lost its absolute majority in the National Assembly. The French people had re-elected their president but denied him the free hand he once enjoyed. The parliament was now fractured into three competing blocs: Macron's centrists, a powerful far-right National Rally led by Le Pen, and a newly united, radical left-wing coalition, NUPES, under the fiery Jean-Luc Mélenchon. Governing became a constant, arduous process of negotiation and compromise. This new reality was starkly illustrated by his signature second-term policy: pension reform. The plan to raise the retirement age from 62 to 64 was met with furious opposition, sparking some of the largest street protests and coordinated strikes in decades. Unable to secure a majority, Macron's government was forced to use a controversial constitutional tool, Article 49.3, to push the law through without a final vote, a move that critics decried as anti-democratic. Macron's second term has been defined by this political gridlock and social tension, a constant struggle to govern a divided country without a clear mandate, culminating in his shocking 2024 decision to dissolve parliament and call for a snap election, plunging France into yet another period of profound uncertainty.