France’s stalemate is the result of a broken constitution

The result of the French parliamentary elections earlier this year was widely celebrated – Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National had not only failed to become the largest political grouping in parliament, but had actually only come third. The populist right had been kept in check, and more convincingly than many people dared hope.

But after the party comes the hangover: the election results have left parliament even more divided than before, with three factions of fairly comparable size. The left-wing coalition received slightly more seats overall than Macron’s own Renaissance group, which in turn received a few more seats than the Rassemblement National.

None of these groups is large enough to govern alone, but at present none of them can negotiate terms under which they would be willing to support one of the others – or be supported by another. The result is a stalemate that renders parliament incapable of governing.

As the largest party, the left-wing coalition wants a chance to form a government. In most parliamentary systems, it would work like this: the winner of the largest party would get the first chance to show whether or not they can form a viable government.

In a purely parliamentary system (like the UK’s), this is what would happen: Lucie Castets, the candidate for Prime Minister chosen by that coalition, would try to form a government. If she could get a motion of confidence through, she would be Prime Minister – if not, everything would have to start again from the beginning, and if after a certain period of time no one had managed to do so, there would be a new election.

However, France does not have a purely parliamentary system – it has a president who appoints the prime minister. Emmanuel Macron is still president and staunchly refuses to appoint Castets.

The result is a lot of anger in his direction, and little else happens, as France lacks most of the key offices that make up a government. Macron’s argument is that Castets does not have the support of a majority of the French parliament and would therefore immediately lose a vote of confidence, plunging France into chaos.

But by intervening in the process, he is not letting anyone know about it – and he is avoiding forcing his own parliamentarians to actually vote. What should be a matter of parliamentary mathematics and the compromises that result is instead held up by a presidential decree. All of this contributes to the kind of chaos and stagnation that could benefit the Rassemblement National if allowed to continue.

It’s a constitutional issue. Britons who know anything about the French political system like to joke about it: France is in its fifth republic since the fall of the monarchy. The cynical British view is that France is in its fifth constitutional republic because the first four failed – each only lasting a few years or decades.

For the British, this is a sign of instability – but the French might argue that a constitution that changes over time is less archaic than 1,000-year-old rules that no one ever wrote down.

The Fourth Republic had a strong parliament and a weak president and was prone to stalemate. After World War II, Charles De Gaulle insisted on a new constitution that gave the president significantly more power as the price for assuming the presidency.

The result is a chaotic system that is neither truly presidential nor truly parliamentary. It is a mess and a mess, although it has existed relatively stable since the mid-20th century.

Macron’s intransigence over the appointment of a prime minister is unlikely to be the end of decades of chaotic constitutional compromise. But it does remind us that the French Fifth Republic’s constitutional arrangement is not really working on some fundamental levels. Whether now or at some point in the near future, it is sure to reach a critical point.