Future of France: Mélenchon and the French Runoff pt. I

When Hors Série published an article in December entitled ‘Yes, Mélenchon Really Will Win the Presidential Elections Next Year’ (here in English), many readers were won over by the idea that the France Insoumise leader could reach the runoff of the 2027 election. But there is rather more scepticism regarding the second round itself: could Mélenchon really beat the Rassemblement National? The gap he is expected to trail the RN candidate by in the first round — possibly around ten points, perhaps even more — seems tough to overcome in the fortnight before the final vote. Added to this is an argument today heard everywhere in French public debate: Mélenchon is simply too unpopular, and this is an insurmountable obstacle to victory. I this article, Manuel Cervera-Marzal exposes the weaknesses in this argument, methodically examining each of the factors that could shape the second-round dynamics. This was originally published in French here on Hors Série.

Drawing on electoral data, sociological research and several historical precedents, I will here try to show that turning the situation around in between the two rounds is far from impossible. Many factors could reshuffle the deck before the runoff. These include the great volatility in France’s voting behaviour; a likely uptick in turnout; Mélenchon’s advantage in TV debates; and a spotlight on the Rassemblement National’s contradictions on economic and geopolitical issues. But Mélenchon could also be helped by a patriotic reflex, votes shifting from the centre, and boosted turnout among first-round abstainers who, on average, lean closer to the left than to the far right.

So, assuming that Mélenchon did reach the second round of the presidential election — as most commentators now believe he will, including France Insoumise’s most ardent critics — how could he make up a substantial deficit to the RN candidate? The most plausible estimate – as I demonstrated in my previous article – is a first round in which Jordan Bardella would secure between 30 and 35 percent of the votes cast, whilst Mélenchon would reach somewhere between 20 and 25 percent (the other candidates would trail behind, with 1 to 10 percent of the vote). The initial gap between Mélenchon and the RN would then be around 10 points: perhaps 5 (low estimate) or 15 (high estimate) percent. Pollsters and pundits confidently insist that “such a gap is impossible to make up”. These are the same people who get it wrong in every election.

Peak uncertainty

The first point worth considering may seem obvious, but it is also hugely important: the interval between the two rounds of a presidential election is one of the most unstable and unpredictable periods in political life. The result of the first round never automatically determines the outcome of the runoff. These two stages follow different logics. In the first round, voters generally choose the candidate who best matches their own political preferences. In the second, many voters choose between two imperfect options. Political scientists have extensively studied this shift in the criteria for voter behaviour. It explains why surprising realignments can occur in a short timespan.

The history of France’s Fifth Republic provides several examples of such shifts.[1] The 2024 parliamentary elections offered another recent illustration. In that contest, while predictions suggested the RN could secure an absolute majority in the National Assembly, the dynamics between the two rounds transformed the situation. The large number of candidates withdrawing, the formation of a republican front, and the increased turnout among part of the electorate prevented the RN from winning. The left-wing coalition, which came out on top, secured around 180 seats, surpassing President Emmanuel Macron’s camp and relegating the Rassemblement National to a level well below initial projections. Thus, faced with the imminent prospect of the far right coming to power, rapid voter-mobilisation mechanisms — both within party leaderships and among increasingly fluid electorates — can be used. When the Left manages to overcome and resolve certain divisions it has, it is capable of reversing an unfavourable contest.

This example illustrates a long-standing phenomenon well-known to researchers: voter turnout varies significantly depending on what voters think is at stake. When it seems that they stakes are exceptionally high — for example, when a far-right candidate stands a chance of reaching power — or when it looks like a close race on the eve of the vote, as in the contest between Nicolas Sarkozy and Ségolène Royal in 2007, social groups that usually abstain start to turn out (again). The overall electoral base expands ahead of the second round, and the votes cast for eliminated candidates in the first round are redistributed.

The space in between the two rounds in 2027 could see an unprecedented shift in the power-balance, seeing as abstention has never been so high. But — and this is key — the record abstention rates affecting France today are intermittent rather than systematic. In other words, most abstainers are people who generally do not vote, but who do, on occasion, show up at the polling station. To put it another way, the tectonics of the electoral landscape have never been so uncertain. Those who claim to be certain that Mélenchon is bound to lose are undoubtedly also people who want him to lose.

 The key role of the final days of the campaign

This uncertainty is hardly unique to France. It is now characteristic of most Western democracies, where the steady rise in abstention is making election results increasingly unpredictable. Across much of Europe and North America, voting is no longer a civic habit but a more intermittent part of people’s behaviour. Voters will turn out, or not, depending on the political circumstances, the polarisation of the campaign, and how credible the alternatives on offer are. Faced with this volatility in turnout rates, it gets tougher and tougher to make any firm predictions.

There have been ever more surprises over the last decade. In 2016, Donald Trump’s election as US president caught all the pundits, pollsters and media outlets by surprise. In the same year, the British referendum on leaving the European Union resulted in a victory for the Brexit side, which few analysts had been expecting. In both cases, the late mobilisation of voters who had previously shown little interest in voting shattered the various forecasts.

But electoral uncertainty doesn’t only produce surprises that benefit the far right. It can also lead to unexpected victories for the left. The Greek example of 2015 is emblematic: the victory of Syriza, led by Alexis Tsipras, marked a major break with a political system long dominated by traditional parties. Against a backdrop of economic crisis and distrust of party-political elites, the final stretch of the campaign enabled a radical left-wing party to come to power. This was something no observer had foreseen even just a few months earlier. Similar phenomena have occurred in Latin America.[2]

These examples show that, in contemporary democracies, the electoral balance is more unstable than ever. The combination of high abstention rates, increased volatility in party allegiances, and strong political polarisation makes electoral behaviour particularly sensitive to the dynamics of the campaign itself. In this context, even the predictions that seem most robust can be upended in a short space of time. The period between the two rounds of a presidential election has always been one of the most unpredictable moments in French political life. These two weeks are enough to overturn the balance of power.

But this short period is not simply a mechanical redistribution of the first-round votes. It also involves a number of closely watched events (debates, interviews, and rallies) that directly influence voters’ perceptions. Among these decisive moments, the televised debate between the two rounds holds a special place.

  [book-strip index="1"]

The TV debate: the moment of truth

Since the 1974 face-off between Valéry Giscard d’Estaing and François Mitterrand, the debate between the two rounds of a presidential election has been one of the most-watched TV events in France (alongside the final rounds of the football World Cup). Its viewership reaches almost 20 million. In a fragmented media landscape, this is one of the rare occasions when a large proportion of the electorate simultaneously observes the two finalists in a lengthy, head-to-head format.

Political science research shows that these debates rarely alter voters’ ideological preferences. However, they do influence perceptions of competence, credibility and presidential stature.[3] In other words, they have less impact on convictions than on the assessment of the candidates’ personal qualities: their mastery of the issues, their ability to argue a case, their composure and authority.

On several occasions, a well-judged quip or a particularly convincing performance has shifted the dynamics of a campaign. The best-known example is the 1974 debate between Giscard d’Estaing and Mitterrand. When the latter accused his opponent of embodying ‘the power of money’, Giscard retorted: ‘You do not, Mr Mitterrand, have a monopoly on the heart’. This phrase, which has gone down in history, left a lasting impression and established the image of a Giscard who was more modern and more at ease than his opponent.[4] From this perspective, a direct confrontation between Mélenchon and an RN candidate could play a decisive role.

Over the past fifteen years or so, Mélenchon has established himself as one of France’s strongest debaters. This reputation is not based solely on subjective impressions: it corresponds to measurable outcomes. During the 2017 presidential campaign, opinion polls held immediately after the major televised debates showed that Mélenchon was consistently regarded as the best performing candidate. Instant polls carried out by Elabe or Harris Interactive placed him in the lead in every single debate. In the days following these debates, his voting intentions rose significantly, with increases of around three to five points.

He repeated this feat in 2022. Following the two major TV debates ahead of the first round, opinion polls showed that Mélenchon was perceived as the most convincing candidate on economic and social issues. In the weeks leading up to the election, his campaign gained spectacular momentum: he rose from a voting intention level of around 12 or 13 to 22 percent on election day, finishing just a few hundred thousand votes short of reaching the second round.

This ability to capitalise on TV debates stems from Mélenchon’s oratorical skills. A former senator, former minister and long-serving MP, he has spent several decades in political arenas where spoken argumentation is a key skill. He possesses a deep understanding of technical issues, an ability to quickly articulate complex arguments, and a rhetorical fluency that becomes particularly visible in longer formats.

The debate held in September 2021 between Jean-Luc Mélenchon and Éric Zemmour illustrates this advantage. Broadcast on BFMTV, this confrontation was widely discussed in the days that followed. An Elabe poll of viewers indicated that 56 percent of them found Mélenchon more convincing, compared with 34 percent for Zemmour. Even among right-wing voters surveyed, the gap was narrower than expected, a sign that the France Insoumise’s leader’s performance had made an impression beyond his own camp. Conversely, the two leaders of the RN often struggle in this type of setting.

The RN’s weakness in face-to-face debates

The most striking example remains the 2017 presidential debate between Emmanuel Macron and Marine Le Pen. Her candidate’s performance (running for the Front National) was deemed mediocre by a large section of the public. In an Elabe poll, 63 percent of viewers felt that Macron had been the more convincing, compared with just 34 percent for Marine Le Pen. Even among Front National voters, a significant proportion acknowledged that their candidate had not won the day. This debate reinforced doubts among a section of the electorate regarding Marine Le Pen’s ability to hold the office of president.

The far-right candidate sought to correct this image during the 2022 debate. Her performance was deemed more composed than it had been in 2017. However, surveys after the debate indicated that Macron still appeared more convincing to a majority of viewers. An Ipsos-Sopra Steria poll conducted on the night of the debate showed, for example, that 59 percent of French people felt Macron had performed better, compared with 39 percent for Le Pen.

Jordan Bardella, for his part, has never yet taken part in a presidential debate. His media skills are associated with short formats — brief interviews, viral clips on social media, and carefully crafted appearances on rolling news channels. This type of communication relies on the repetition of simple messages and the power of slogans. However, a presidential debate held between the two rounds operates on a different logic. It requires candidates to provide detailed answers to specific questions on institutional, economic or diplomatic issues. Any inaccuracies or contradictions can be exploited by the opponent, who is generally more combative than journalists.

In such a setting, differences in political experience and debating skills become much more apparent. A candidate like Mélenchon, in his fourth presidential campaign, is particularly at-ease in this arena. Conversely, a political leader whose career has been built in the world of PR and social media may find themselves more exposed.

In a duel between Mélenchon and Bardella — or between Mélenchon and Le Pen should she ultimately become the RN’s candidate — the TV debate would thus be a decisive moment. If Mélenchon were to replicate the performances seen in the 2017 and 2022 debates, the impact could be significant.

Furthermore, the TV debate is not merely a test of style or mastery of policy issues. It also forces candidates to clarify their proposals and, in real time, to take responsibility for the concrete implications of their programme. In a long-form format, faced with a seasoned opponent — one far more demanding than the journalists who routinely ask the RN indulgent questions — it is harder to cover up grey areas, ambiguities and contradictions.

The far right’s contradictions on economic policy

Since the early 2010s, Marine Le Pen’s party has been striving to build a ‘social’ image designed to appeal to the working class. The RN adopts a protective, and at times even redistributive, rhetoric, whilst, in practice, defending policies that favour the interests of capital. Whilst this contradiction is not new on the far right,[5] it has tended to become more pronounced in recent years: under pressure from rival candidate Zemmour, the RN’s stances on economic issues reflect a gradual shift towards an unapologetic neoliberalism. Bardella explicitly advocates a line of ‘support for businesses’, sends repeated positive signals to employers, lambasts ‘welfare-scroungers’ and insists on the need to reduce the ‘constraints’ reining in economic activity. At the same time, the party maintains its image as a defender of purchasing power and public services. This two-faced discourse aims to reassure the ruling classes without losing the working-class electorate, representing one of its main sources of votes.

However, when we examine the RN’s policy proposals and, above all, its parliamentary record more closely, this ‘social’ façade proves entirely illusory. In both the National Assembly and the European Parliament, RN MPs have consistently voted against measures favourable to workers or redistribution – whether that means an increase in the minimum wage, strengthening social protections, or certain economic regulations. At the same time, they have supported or acquiesced in measures that help out big corporations, particularly in terms of tax and regulation. This disconnection between rhetoric and action is well documented. And, yet, it remains largely invisible in the public sphere, where the logic of the media landscape favours general statements rather than detailed analysis of the policies actually pursued.

The RN’s economic programme also has many internal contradictions that are difficult to reconcile. It simultaneously promises tax cuts, an increase in purchasing power, the maintenance of public services, and a reduction of the public debt, without specifying the trade-offs required to meet these objectives. Some proposed measures, such as exemptions from social-security contributions or VAT cuts, benefit businesses or the wealthiest households most, whilst stripping resources away from the welfare state. Other proposals, such as the ‘national priority’ (for French nationals) in access to social benefits, raise major legal difficulties in terms of constitutional and EU law, making it unclear if they can actually be followed through.

These inconsistencies present a major vulnerability for the RN in any second-round contest. So long as the presidential campaign remains a fragmented picture, with media attention divided between many candidates and indulgent of the RN, the party can hide these contradictions. But, once the campaign is focused on two remaining contenders as distant from each other as Mélenchon and the RN, and there is tougher scrutiny of all their proposals, it can no longer rely on being opaque about its plans. Journalists, economists, political opponents and voters are then prompted to question, more closely, the feasibility and desirability of the two programmes.

In a head-to-head between Mélenchon and the RN candidate, the differences in preparation, seriousness and credibility would be glaringly obvious. On the one hand, Mélenchon has made policy coherence, costing his budget plans, and the specifics of his economic proposals a central element of his strategy. On the other hand, he has already demonstrated, in numerous debates, his ability to highlight his opponents’ contradictions on these issues. In a context where media attention would be at its height, he would likely seek to demonstrate, with supporting examples, that the RN does not offer a real alternative for the working classes.

  [book-strip index="2"]

More broadly, the period between the two rounds is the moment when the social coalitions underlying political projects take sharper form. An economic programme is not merely a set of technical measures: it also reflects the social interests it prioritises. In the runoff, the disconnect between the RN’s rhetoric about standing up for ‘the left behind’ and its policy proposals geared to suiting employers could become more apparent than in the first round.

This belated clarification is one of the classic effects of second-round campaigns. When the political choice is reduced to two options, and those two options are — for once — genuinely antagonistic, voters are led to examine more closely the concrete consequences of the choices standing in front of them. In this context, contradictions that might have been tolerated or ignored in the past take on unprecedented significance.

In other words, this is not merely a question of whether the RN’s economic programme contains inconsistencies — in fact, these are well established. Rather, it is about the fact that these inconsistencies could, in the period between the two rounds, become visible to far more people, and, in particular, to a section of the electorate unsure whether to vote for the RN. It is precisely this increased visibility, amplified by the direct confrontation and by the efforts put up by anti-fascist media-political forces, that could weaken the far-right candidate’s position.

But the RN’s contradictions are not limited to the economic sphere. They also extend to another area, now decisive in a presidential election: that of foreign policy and national independence. Here, too, the disconnection between the RN’s explicit rhetoric and its real practice could become increasingly apparent in the period before the second round, and undermine the far-right candidate’s credibility among significant sections of the electorate.

Putin’s shadow

For several years now, Macron’s supporters, Raphaël Glucksmann and the social-liberal left have sought to discredit Jean-Luc Mélenchon by portraying him as indulgent towards Vladimir Putin. This accusation may be effective as a political attack, but it runs into a problem of proportion. For, if we examine the facts, the RN’s dependence on Russia is of a different nature: it is objective. In 2014, the party took out a loan of €9.4 million from the First Czech-Russian Bank; following the bank’s closure, the debt was taken over by the Russian company Aviazapchast, and the RN only finally settled this legacy in 2023.

This sequence of events was sufficiently serious for a report by the parliamentary commission of inquiry into foreign interference to describe the RN as Russia’s ‘transmission belt’ in France. Added to this is the fact that in 2025 a fresh judicial investigation targeted the RN’s headquarters regarding possible funding irregularities, notably concerning illegal or fictitious loans. In other words, when we move from rhetoric to the facts, it is not Mélenchon but the RN that is materially, politically and ideologically dependent on hostile foreign powers.

The RN’s Russian dependence is not, moreover, a matter of some irrelevant old financial dispute. It forms part of a wider ecosystem of influence networks deployed by the Kremlin across Europe. Numerous journalistic and judicial investigations have documented the activities of Russian entities funding platforms, legal support and influence operations in dozens of European countries, with the aim of disseminating pro-Moscow narratives and supporting ideological conduits compatible with its interests. This is thus not just a matter of an old loan, which RN leaders would like to present as a closed chapter, but a broader political environment in which Russia has, for years, invested resources to ideologically arm Europe’s radical right. This could be key in the run-up to the second round of the presidential election, when the issue of national independence is set to take centre stage once more. This history would resurface as tangible proof that, of the two candidates, while one may have held questionable positions on Russia, the other represents the only camp whose material, institutional and doctrinal links with Putinism have been repeatedly established, with documents to prove it.

Trumpism unites its opponents and divides its supporters

Above all, the RN’s geopolitical difficulty is no longer limited to Russia; it now extends to Donald Trump’s United States. Here, Jordan Bardella’s situation is perilous. Le Grand Continent has published particularly illuminating data on the emergence of a new geopolitical divide:[6] in France, between 85 percent and 95 percent of voters for France Insoumise, the Ecologists, the Socialists and [Macronite party] Renaissance regard Donald Trump as an ‘enemy of Europe’, with no fundamental differences between these voter bases. Furthermore, 94 percent of France Insoumise voters, 92 percent of Green voters, 90 percent of Socialist voters and 83 percent of Renaissance voters now describe US foreign policy in terms of ‘recolonisation and the plundering of global resources’. This point is decisive: Trumpian geopolitics now face a continuum of hostility stretching from the radical left up to the Macronist centre. The divide thus no longer runs between Mélenchon and the Macron camp, but between a very broad bloc — La France Insoumise, Socialists, Greens, centrists — and the right, which is torn between ambivalence and being in thrall to Trump.

This is where Bardella finds himself in serious trouble. The RN is deeply divided over Trump: 25 percent of RN voters regard Trump as an enemy of Europe, and 20 percent as a friend, whilst half refuse to take a stance. In terms of their assessment of Trump’s foreign policy, 45 percent of RN voters believe it is a legitimate defence of US interests, whilst 40 percent perceive it as predatory. On Greenland, 62 percent of RN voters believe that a US military intervention would constitute an act of war against Europe; and yet this also means that a significant proportion of the RN electorate is more coy, on this front, than the progressive and moderate electorates. In other words, as Jean-Yves Dormagen writes, ‘Trumpism strongly unites its opponents whilst permanently fragmenting those it claims to bring together’. Bardella has repeatedly expressed his admiration for Trump, in a France in which rejection of Trump is an electoral criterion gaining in importance for everyone — on the left, in the centre and on the right. It’s just that the left and the centre are in agreement on this issue, whilst the right is fractured.

In February 2025, Bardella had planned to speak at the CPAC conference in Washington, a hotbed of international Trumpism; but he ultimately cancelled his participation, after a gesture by Elon Musk widely interpreted as a Nazi salute. This trip across the Atlantic was part of Bardella’s attempt to strengthen his ties with Trump and with US radical-right-wing networks. A few weeks later, following Marine Le Pen’s conviction, several foreign nationalist leaders — Viktor Orbán, Matteo Salvini, Jair Bolsonaro, Donald Trump — publicly came to her defence. Here again, the problem for the RN is not merely the existence of such support, but its nature: these are always the same figures from international neo-fascist circles. They are leaders or former leaders who, in the eyes of a growing section of French public opinion, symbolise attacks on the rule of law, the brutalisation of public debate, and the subordination of politics to clannish cliques.

In contrast, Mélenchon presents himself as a non-aligned figure, a defender of France’s independence. The key point is not to suggest that his geopolitical positions coincide with those of the centre; they surely are different, at times very much so. But there is now an objective overlap between Mélenchon’s left, Macronite diplomacy and part of the Gaullist tradition on one essential point: the refusal to allow France’s conduct to be dictated by Washington or Moscow. The debate on 20 January 2026 between [French Foreign Minister] Jean-Noël Barrot and Jean-Luc Mélenchon on France 2 strikingly demonstrated this: against the backdrop of the Trump administration’s escalating aggressive actions, the language of strategic autonomy and the rejection of interference emerged as common ground between government diplomacy and France Insoumise’s strategy. When the Foreign Minister explains that France is prepared to say ‘no’ to the United States on certain issues and Mélenchon defends a non-aligned sovereignty, the entire political landscape shifts. It is no longer Mélenchon who appears marginal; rather, it is the RN that is trapped by its ideological proximity to the Trumpist camp.

A rapprochement between France Insoumise and Macron’s camp, in the name of France’s interests

In a campaign between the two rounds, this realignment will count a great deal. Macronist and social-liberal voters are never going to vote for Mélenchon out of conviction. However, geopolitical considerations will push them more towards Mélenchon than towards Bardella. Across the spectrum from France Insoumise to Renaissance, hostility towards Trump is almost unanimous, and the ability to oppose Trumpian interference is becoming — for more than half of voters — a decisive factor in their vote. Ahead of a Mélenchon-Bardella run-off ballot, Atlanticist and pro-European voters will have to choose between a candidate they deem over-the-top, ambiguous and Russophile, but with whom they share a form of patriotism, and a candidate whose political camp is objectively linked, through its history, by its ideology and its networks, to the two major forces destabilising Europe today: Trumpism and Putinism. In this context, many will prefer autonomy to subservience.

This is why it is likely that sincere Gaullists, sovereigntyists of all stripes, constitutional lawyers, certain diplomats, senior military officers, and more broadly a section of the patriotic right in the classical sense, will be far more receptive to Mélenchon than to Bardella in such a contest. It would be an exaggeration to anticipate massive and uniform defections from right to left; but it is perfectly plausible to imagine that figures such as Dominique de Villepin, Jacques Toubon and Xavier Bertrand would focus less on Mélenchon’s economic programme than on the fundamental issue of national independence. Between a candidate whose doctrine is that of popular sovereignty, non-subordination and the rejection of blocs, and another whose party has been funded by a Russian-Czech bank and politically drawn to Trumpist networks, a Gaullist should not face too tough a choice. For these voters or figures, this would not mean turning into Mélenchon supports. Rather, it would be a matter of preferring, in this decisive moment, a left-wing patriot to a right-winger who is nationalist in words but objectively subservient to the interests of rival powers. In this sense, geopolitics is one of the areas where Bardella will be most clearly outmatched. Not because Mélenchon will command unanimous support (disagreements over Russia, the Uyghurs and the genocide in Gaza are not going to vanish), but because it is the concentration of the RN’s contradictions.

The RN claims to have a monopoly on patriotism and sovereignty. It reduces these ideas to an identitarian definition of the nation, coupled with restrictive positions on immigration and hostility toward European integration. Yet, in French political history, patriotism has never been the sole preserve of the right, let alone the far right. At decisive moments, it has been championed by a wide variety of political traditions, including the republican left and the workers’ movement. From the French Revolution to the fight against fascism, through certain periods of the French Communist Party’s history, the defence of the patrie has often been seen as inseparable from popular sovereignty and civic equality.