Why Macron didn’t dare venture too far into democratic territory

French President Emmanuel Macron meets the public a week after the dissolution of the National Assembly. EPA/Christophe Ena / Pool Maxppp Out

After being defeated by the far right in recent European elections, French President Emmanuel Macron called on the country’s voters to elect a new parliament. Despite this seemingly democratic gesture, Macron has done very little to meet citizens’ expectations with regard to direct and participatory democracy, our analysis shows.

The fact passed almost unnoticed in the general uproar after Macron dissolved the National Assembly on June 10. As parliament’s work drew to an abrupt halt, so did discussions around a new end-of-life bill – whether temporarily or for good remains to be seen. This debate, which raises the issue of assisted dying for the first time in France, was the subject of a citizens’ convention last year, in which 184 randomly selected French men and women came together to talk about and work on the question. 

“You, as citizens, have chosen to be trained, to discuss and to learn within a fair and open framework,” Macron exclaimed at the end of the convention, which he had himself instigated. And then bang! If the far-right Rassemblement National, led by Marine Le Pen, wins the legislative elections on June 30 and July 7 – or if the left wins – who knows what will become of this innovative democratic process in France.

Other issues seem to be more significant in the election, but this democratic experiment leaves a taste of unfinished business. Hence the question being asked by a number of political analysts: if Macron had embarked more firmly on the path of direct or participatory democracy, would the citizens have felt more involved in the life of the nation? And thus less inclined to vote for extremist parties?

Missed opportunity

After the 2018–2019 crisis of the gilets jaunes, or yellow-vest protestors, who called for more participatory democracy, “President Macron had the historic opportunity to introduce a citizen-initiated referendum in a structured manner. But he didn’t seize it,” laments Yves Sintomer, professor of political science at Paris 8 University and the University of Neuchâtel.

There was no question at the time of Macron opening the door to a Swiss-style popular initiative system. “The Swiss model is unsuitable,” he declared in 2019. Switzerland has “a confederal system, with a rotating presidency, very different political balances, a different relationship to openness/closedness, an acceptance of inequalities, a relationship to the world that is profoundly different,” the French president stressed. “We are a violent nation, and have been for centuries and centuries. France is not Switzerland.”

A woman walks past a mural by street artist PBOY depicting Yellow Vests inspired by Eugène Delacroix’s painting “Liberty Guiding the People” in Paris in January 2019. Copyright 2019 The Associated Press. All Rights Reserved.

Nonetheless, to respond to the thirst for democracy widely expressed by the French people, Macron embarked – cautiously – on certain forms of participatory and consultative democracy. The first citizens’ convention, on the climate, sparked a veritable democratic craze. Yet despite the president’s promise that nearly all the convention’s proposals would be retained “without filter”, parliament adopted only some of them.

These democratic experiments basically proved frustrating for the citizens, who felt that their views were not being properly taken into account. In late 2023 Macron promised to ease the conditions for launching a shared initiative referendum; this is the only lever the public has to call a referendum, at the end of a very long and complex process – so much so that not even one has been successful to date. It was a rather vague promise, and one that may not withstand these turbulent political times.

Too confrontational a country

Should Macron have gone faster and further with regard to direct democracy? “France lags a hundred years behind Switzerland in this respect,” says political scientist Jean-Yves Camus. “In France, we have more and more local referendums on specific issues, the results of which are not binding on the powers that be – for instance, on the use of shared e-scooters in Paris.”

But is France ready to move up to the next level, namely citizen-initiated referendums on matters of national importance? “This works well in a peaceful democracy like Switzerland,” says Camus, a specialist on the far right. “But the risk is greater in a divided country where passions run high, like in France since the French Revolution. And what would we vote on: reintroducing the death penalty? Stopping immigration outright?”

“Emmanuel Macron tried to transcend the old political divides and gradually integrate citizens into democratic life,” says Swiss political scientist François Chérix. “But French political culture is not ready for a Swiss-style semi-direct democracy. The political climate is too conflictual. Consensus is not highly valued over there.”

The people’s voice goes unheard

Yet if there is no acceptance of the will of the people, there can be no semi-direct democracy. If the political leadership does not respect the decision of the “sovereign people”, fairly and consensually, then referendums are pointless.

The consultation on the Nantes airport at Notre-Dame-des-Landes and the victory of the yes vote did not prevent Macron from abandoning the airport project. In so vertical a political system, where decisions are made top-down, these consultations are not always respected.

“In 2018, on the issue of the French banlieues [suburbs], the president didn’t even wait for the report that he himself had commissioned from former minister Jean-Louis Borloo before taking measures – contrary measures,” recalls Claudine Schmid, former member of parliament for French citizens living in Switzerland.

Political stunt or democratic act?

By dissolving the National Assembly, Macron is giving the people back their say; it is a way of bringing French democracy to life, the most optimistic observers would say.

“It smacks more of a political coup,” says Sintomer, who has delved into the history of democratic experimentation. “A move decided by the Elysée Palace [the official residence of the president] on its own, after weighing up the risks and opportunities. There’s nothing very democratic about that.”

But what if Macron’s idea were to force the far right, whose popularity has grown steadily over the past 40 or so years, to get its fingers burnt by managing day-to-day affairs, the nation’s budget – in short, to rule the country – a role which immediately makes anyone who attempts it unpopular in France?

“In Switzerland the most radical positions can be cushioned thanks to our system of adding the different tendencies together,” Chérix points out. “We integrate the opposition in order to neutralise it.”

But he believes that “this gamble seems much riskier” in France, where there is no such thing as the “magic formula”, the way the seven seats on the Swiss Federal Council are divided among the four main political parties.

If the Rassemblement National comes to power, Marine Le Pen’s party, which has always expressed a certain interest in the Swiss model, promises to make use of the instruments of direct democracy.

“Until 2017, Le Pen promised a referendum on France’s membership of the European Union. Then there was talk of a vote on immigration. Today, we don’t really know anymore,” says Camus. “What’s certain is that a referendum by the Rassemblement National resembles a kind of Caesarism, of Bonapartism. It’s a call to the people made from on high.”

Edited by Samuel Jaberg. Adapted from French by Julia Bassam/ts