French voters made their voices heard in the mid-March municipal elections, whose insights into the trajectory of the far-right National Rally party, led by Marine Le Pen and her protege Jordan Bardella, were closely followed.

The party first rose to prominence in the early 1970s as the National Front, led by its founder Jean-Marie Le Pen, Marine’s father. Its rise in the decades since has been striking, as it evolved from an anti-immigrant, populist opposition movement into a genuine “party of power” that boasts more than 100,000 members and nationwide support.

The party’s transformation into a force to be reckoned with is not only reflected in its consolidation in parliament and local councils, but also its success in reaching the decisive second round of presidential elections three times (in 2002, 2017 and 2022).

While the numbers suggest that the far right at least secured its place in the second round, there is another important element to consider: in all three instances, traditional right and left-wing parties (along with centrists, environmentalists and others) formed tactical electoral alliances with the sole aim of preventing the far-right candidate from reaching the Elysee: Jean-Marie Le Pen in 2002 and Marine Le Pen in 2017 and 2022.

Such tactical alliances sought to create a bulwark against an “extremist threat” and inherently demanded that traditional parties compromise on significant elements of their platforms and find some common ground.

One might argue that such alliances have both advantages and drawbacks. Political parties exist, after all, to offer voters a perspective on public affairs, social and security developments, and economic and monetary priorities.

When two or more parties are compelled to unite behind a single candidate, they inevitably abandon elements of their platform that reflect their supporters’ priorities. Unlike ideologically rigid “cadre parties,” traditional parties often pay a heavy price for compromise and lose credibility with their base, which could drift toward candidates or parties that more directly represent their core concerns.

Most traditional parties in democratic countries were shaped by exceptional figures who strengthened their standing among supporters. In Germany, not every chancellor has matched the stature of Konrad Adenauer or Willy Brandt. In Britain, figures like Winston Churchill or Margaret Thatcher do not come often. And in France, not every post-Second World War president can be compared to Charles de Gaulle on the right or Francois Mitterrand on the left. The departure of such figures, whether through death or retirement, often deprives their parties of their political legacy and charismatic appeal.

Meanwhile, changing conditions and rising challenges across Europe have engendered several key shifts.

Firstly, the collapse of the Eastern bloc after the fall of the Berlin Wall and the Soviet Union reshaped Europe’s political map, elevating the EU as a bloc confronting a new Russia and undermining the communist left.

Secondly, rapid technological development has dealt a severe blow to the labor market. Robotics, the information revolution and now artificial intelligence weaken labor unions and, with them, the socialist and communist parties. In their place, “niche issue” parties have emerged: environmental, regional (including separatist parties) and single-issue movements such as those focused on equal rights or abortion.

Thirdly, migration (especially from the Global South) has intensified, driven by population growth, development disparities, economic and political crises, and civil wars.

Against this backdrop, doubts have emerged about what once seemed a durable broad consensus. Just as the British distanced themselves from a unified “European identity,” the Germans and Italians seem to have forgotten the horrors of Nazism and fascism, flirting with their return. Meanwhile, segments of the French working class, especially less skilled workers, have directed their frustration at immigrants, leading many to shift from the communist left to nationalist extremism.

The recent French municipal elections do not, of course, predetermine the outcome of future legislative or presidential elections. They do, however, provide a useful snapshot of emerging opportunities, shifting priorities and the issues mobilizing voters and parties.

The far-right’s results show that it is not the “destiny” of French democracy. It failed to achieve major breakthroughs, particularly in large cities, but maintained its strong showing in the rural south and in certain urban areas with large immigrant populations.

The socialists, in their various wings, have preserved a presence after appearing to be on the brink of decline and of withering like the communists did.

The traditional moderate right (and the centrists) demonstrated their local appeal and capacity to produce leaders capable of speaking effectively to their constituencies.

Unlike in Britain, however, where the Green Party has made notable gains, France’s Greens lost votes this time. This setback undoubtedly holds lessons for their allies and competitors alike.

Eyad Abu Shakra is managing editor of Asharq Al-Awsat, where this article was originally published. X: @eyad1949

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