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Back in October 2022, when Rishi Sunak assumed office as British prime minister, he became the fifth consecutive UK leader to occupy the position over a six-year span.

Unleashed on the UK by Brexit, this signified exceptional governmental instability. So what term captures what is occurring in the French Republic, now on its sixth prime minister in 24 months – three of them in the last ten months?

The latest prime minister, the newly reinstated Sébastien Lecornu, may have secured a temporary reprieve on that day, sacrificing Emmanuel Macron’s flagship pensions overhaul in exchange for opposition Socialist votes as the cost of his government’s survival.

But it is, at best, a temporary fix. The EU’s second-largest economy is locked in a political permacrisis, the scale of which it has not experienced for decades – possibly not since the start of its Fifth French Republic in 1958 – and from which there seems no easy escape.

Governing Without a Majority

Key background: from the moment Macron initiated an risky early parliamentary vote in 2024, France has had a hung parliament split into three opposing factions – left, the far right and his own centrist coalition – none with anything close to a majority.

At the same time, the country faces dual debt and deficit crises: its national debt level and deficit are now nearly double the EU threshold, and hard constitutional deadlines to approve a 2026 budget that starts controlling expenditures are nigh.

In this challenging environment, both Lecornu’s immediate predecessors – Michel Barnier, who served from September to December 2024, and François Bayrou, who took office from December 2024 to September 2025 – were ousted by the assembly.

In mid-September, the president appointed his trusted associate Lecornu as his latest PM. But when, just over a fortnight later, Lecornu unveiled his new cabinet – which turned out to be much the same as the old one – he faced fury from allies and opponents alike.

So much so that the next day, he stepped down. After just 27 days in office, Lecornu became the shortest-lived premier in recent French history. In a dignified speech, he blamed political intransigence, saying “partisan attitudes” and “personal ambitions” would make his job all but impossible.

A further unexpected development: just hours after Lecornu’s resignation, Macron asked him to stay on for another 48 hours in a last-ditch effort to salvage cross-party backing – a task, to put it mildly, filled with challenges.

Next, two of Macron’s former PMs publicly turned on the struggling leader. Meanwhile, the far-right National Rally (RN) and leftist LFI refused to meet Lecornu, vowing to reject any and every new government unless there were snap elections.

Lecornu persisted in his duties, talking to everyone who was prepared to hear him out. At the conclusion of his extension, he appeared on television to say he thought “a solution remained possible” to prevent a vote. The president’s office confirmed the president would name a fresh premier 48 hours later.

Macron honored his word – and on that Friday appointed … Sébastien Lecornu, again. So this week – with Macron commenting from the wings that the nation's opposing groups were “fuelling division” and “solely responsible for this chaos” – was Lecornu’s moment of truth. Would he endure – and can he pass that vital budget?

In a critical address, the young prime minister spelled out his budget priorities, giving the Socialist party, who detest Macron’s unpopular pension overhaul, what they were waiting for: Macron’s key policy would be frozen until 2027.

With the right-wing LR already on board, the Socialists said they would refuse to support censorship votes tabled against Lecornu by the far right and radical left – meaning the government should survive those votes, scheduled for Thursday.

It is, however, far from guaranteed to be able to approve its €30bn austerity budget: the PS explicitly warned that it would be demanding further compromises. “This,” said its head, Olivier Faure, “is just the start.”

Changing Political Culture

The issue is, the greater concessions he makes to the left, the more he will meet resistance from the centre-right. And, similar to the Socialists, the right-leaning parties are themselves divided over how to handle the new government – certain members remain eager to bring it down.

A glance at the parliamentary arithmetic shows how difficult his mission – and future viability – will be. A total of 264 deputies from the far-right RN, LFI, Greens, Communists and hardline-right UDR want him out.

To succeed, they need a majority of 288 votes in parliament – so if they can convince only 24 of the PS’s 69 members or the LR’s 47 representatives (or both) to vote with them, Macron’s fifth precarious prime minister in 24 months is, similar to his forerunners, finished.

Most expect this to occur soon. Although, by an unlikely turn, the divided parliament musters collective will to pass a budget by year-end, the outlook afterward look grim.

So does an exit exist? Early elections would be doubtful to resolve the issue: surveys indicate pretty much every party bar the RN would see reduced representation, but there would remain no decisive majority. A new prime minister would face the same intractable arithmetic.

An alternative might be for Macron himself to resign. After winning the presidential election, his successor would dissolve parliament and aim for a legislative majority in the following election. But that, too, is uncertain.

Polls suggest the future president will be Marine Le Pen or Jordan Bardella. There is at least an strong possibility that French electorate, having chosen a far-right leader, might think twice about handing them control of parliament.

Ultimately, France may not escape its predicament until its politicians accept the new political reality, which is that clear majorities are a bygone phenomenon, absolute victory is obsolete, and compromise is not synonymous with failure.

Many think that transformation will not be feasible under the existing governmental framework. “This is no conventional parliamentary crisis, but a crise de régime” that will prove anything but temporary.

“The regime … was never designed to facilitate – and actively discourages – the formation of ruling alliances common in the rest of Europe. The Fifth Republic may well have entered its terminal phase.”