The political center had been hollowed out, and voters were fleeing to the edges.
France arrived at its 2022 presidential election as a nation whose political architecture had been quietly hollowing out for years, leaving voters to choose not between two great traditions but between a centrist incumbent and the rising forces at the margins. The old parties of left and right — once the twin pillars of the Fifth Republic — faced near-extinction, while extremes on both ends gathered strength fed by economic anxiety and a deep distrust of the establishment. What was at stake was not merely a presidency, but the shape of French democracy itself, with parliamentary elections in June waiting to determine whether any winner could actually govern.
- The Socialist and Republican parties, which governed France for decades, were collapsing toward single-digit support — a historic erasure of the postwar political order.
- Far-right forces commanded roughly a third of the electorate, with Zemmour's radical positioning paradoxically softening Le Pen's image and expanding her appeal toward the mainstream.
- Record eurozone inflation and surging energy costs had displaced the war in Ukraine as the dominant voter concern, forcing even Russia-sympathetic candidates to pivot toward kitchen-table economics.
- Mélenchon's 17 percent on the left signaled that the abandonment of the center was not a right-wing phenomenon alone — disillusionment was pulling voters toward both poles.
- With abstention potentially reaching 30 percent, the election risked being decided by a minority of the electorate, deepening questions about democratic legitimacy in a fractured republic.
France entered its April 10, 2022 presidential election with more than 48 million eligible voters and a political landscape that had been fundamentally redrawn since Emmanuel Macron's insurgent victory five years earlier. A first round would almost certainly yield no outright winner, sending the top two candidates to a runoff on April 24 — and whoever prevailed would then face parliamentary elections in June, where the real test of governing power would be decided.
The most striking feature of the moment was the near-collapse of France's traditional parties. The Socialist candidate, Paris mayor Anne Hidalgo, was polling around 2 percent. The Republican standard-bearer, Valérie Pécresse, was expected to fall below 10. The two formations that had anchored French politics since 1958 were facing potential extinction, their space consumed by Macron's centrist consolidation and the growing pull of the extremes.
On the right, Marine Le Pen and the firebrand journalist Eric Zemmour together commanded roughly a third of the vote. Zemmour's inflammatory rhetoric had, counterintuitively, benefited Le Pen — his radicalism made her appear moderate by comparison, a rehabilitation she had long been engineering. On the left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, running for a third time, held around 17 percent, driven by voter fury over inequality and the cost of living.
The war in Ukraine offered an uncomfortable backdrop, exposing past sympathies toward Russia among several candidates. Le Pen had posed with Putin in campaign materials; Zemmour had praised him; Mélenchon had called Russia a partner. Since the invasion, most had softened their positions, and polls suggested the damage was limited — voters were focused elsewhere. Record eurozone inflation of 5.1 percent had made energy prices and household costs the defining issues of the campaign.
Yet beneath the urgency of those concerns lay a pervasive disengagement. Turnout was expected to be the lowest since 2002, with abstention potentially reaching 30 percent. France was holding an election of historic consequence, but a significant portion of its citizens had already decided not to participate.
France was heading into a presidential election on April 10, 2022, with more than 48 million eligible voters preparing to cast ballots in what promised to be a reshaping of the country's political landscape. The contest would unfold in two stages—a first round on that Sunday, followed by a runoff on April 24 if no candidate secured an outright majority, which polls suggested was virtually certain. But the presidential vote was only the beginning. Parliamentary elections scheduled for mid-June would follow, and whoever won the presidency would need to secure a working majority in parliament to actually govern.
The political ground had shifted dramatically since Emmanuel Macron's unexpected victory in 2017. Five years ago, he had emerged from nowhere with a centrist movement called La République En Marche, squeezing out the two parties that had dominated French politics since 1958—the Socialist Party on the left and Les Républicains on the right. That earthquake had been thorough. Now, as voters prepared for another round, the traditional establishment was facing potential extinction. Polls showed the Socialist candidate, Paris mayor Anne Hidalgo, hovering around 2 percent. Valérie Pécresse, the Republican standard-bearer, was predicted to capture less than 10 percent. Unless something dramatic shifted, neither party would even make the second round—a catastrophic outcome that could mark the end of their era entirely.
What had filled the void was a widening gap between center and extremes. Macron had consolidated the middle ground, but voters were increasingly gravitating toward the political margins. On the right, the far-right vote was split between Marine Le Pen, the veteran presidential candidate, and Eric Zemmour, a television personality and journalist running as the insurgent hard-right option. Together, they were expected to capture roughly a third of all votes. Zemmour's fiery rhetoric on immigration and his extreme positions had, paradoxically, helped Le Pen by making her seem more moderate by comparison—a strategy she had carefully cultivated over recent years to rehabilitate her party's image. The effect was visible in the polling: while Macron still led, his margin over Le Pen had narrowed considerably from his 66-point demolition of her in 2017.
On the left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, a veteran politician running for the third time, was solidly in third place with around 17 percent support, powered by voter anger over inequality and the rising cost of living. He was unlikely to reach the second round, but his strong showing was another sign that French voters were abandoning the political center.
The war in Ukraine cast a shadow over the campaign, offering a lens through which to examine the candidates' past relationships with Russia. Mélenchon had called Russia a partner as recently as early 2022, driven by his ideological hostility toward the United States. Zemmour had praised Putin as a patriot defending Russian interests. Le Pen had prominently featured photographs of herself with Putin in campaign materials, apparently trying to project international stature. Since the invasion, most of these candidates had softened their tone or pivoted to other issues, and the polling suggested their past Russia sympathies were not significantly damaging them with voters. Le Pen, for instance, had reoriented her campaign toward the cost-of-living crisis and the impact of sanctions on energy prices.
That pivot reflected where French voters' minds actually were. Record inflation in the eurozone—hitting 5.1 percent—had made the price of everyday goods a dominant concern. High energy costs, expensive housing, and economic anxiety were overshadowing geopolitical questions. Yet despite the abundance of serious issues on the table, a mood of apathy and cynicism seemed to hang over the election. Predictions suggested abstention could reach 30 percent in the first round, which would be the lowest turnout since 2002. France was voting, but not everyone was showing up.
Notable Quotes
The radicalness of Eric Zemmour has softened the image of Marine Le Pen— Bruno Cautrès, political scientist at Sciences-Po Paris
The Hearth Conversation Another angle on the story
Why does the parliamentary election matter so much if Macron or Le Pen is going to be president anyway?
Because in France, the president can't just govern alone. They need a majority in parliament to pass laws and actually implement their agenda. If the new president doesn't have that, they're stuck. It's why Macron might dissolve parliament right after winning and call snap elections—to try to elect lawmakers who support him while his victory momentum is still fresh.
So the traditional parties—the Socialists and Republicans—they're just... gone?
Not gone, but functionally eliminated from the top tier. If they both fall below 10 percent in the first round, it's not just a bad election. It signals the end of a 60-year system. These were the only two parties that mattered for decades. Now they can't even make the runoff.
How does Zemmour help Le Pen if he's also running on the far right?
By being more extreme than her. His radical rhetoric on immigration and his inflammatory style make Le Pen look reasonable by comparison. She's spent years trying to "normalize" her image, and Zemmour is doing that work for her. When voters see him, they think Le Pen is the safer far-right choice.
The Putin question seems like it should matter more.
You'd think so, given the war in Ukraine. But voters are worried about their electricity bills and rent, not geopolitics. Le Pen has simply pivoted—she's now talking about how sanctions hurt French energy prices. The past praise for Putin hasn't stuck to her because it's not what people are focused on.
What does 30 percent abstention actually mean?
It means nearly a third of eligible voters won't show up. That's the lowest turnout in 20 years. It suggests a lot of people feel disconnected or cynical about the choices in front of them, even though the election is genuinely consequential.