The gap between them had narrowed to fewer than three points
En la víspera de la primera vuelta presidencial francesa de abril de 2022, el país se asomaba a una reconfiguración profunda de su paisaje político. Marine Le Pen acortaba distancias con Emmanuel Macron a un ritmo que desafiaba las predicciones, mientras la izquierda apostaba por una concentración de votos en torno a Mélenchon y el abstencionismo amenazaba con alcanzar cotas históricas. Más allá del duelo entre candidatos, lo que estaba en juego era la supervivencia misma de las fuerzas que habían dado forma a la Quinta República durante medio siglo.
- Le Pen se acercaba a Macron a menos de tres puntos en algunas encuestas, una distancia que cabía dentro del margen de error y que convertía la primera vuelta en un resultado abierto.
- Mélenchon lanzaba un llamado urgente al 'voto útil', intentando absorber los apoyos dispersos de ecologistas, comunistas y socialistas antes de que fuera demasiado tarde para llegar al balotaje.
- El abstencionismo rozaba el récord histórico del 28,4 % registrado en 2002, con millones de franceses desconectados de una campaña opacada por la pandemia y la guerra en Ucrania.
- Valérie Pécresse se encaminaba al peor resultado de la historia del gaullismo, y el Partido Socialista de Anne Hidalgo, con apenas un 2 %, ni siquiera alcanzaría el umbral para recuperar los gastos de campaña.
- Francia se preparaba para votar con la sensación de que dos de sus grandes tradiciones políticas podían no sobrevivir la noche del domingo.
Francia llegaba a la primera vuelta de sus elecciones presidenciales de abril de 2022 con la certeza de que algo estructural estaba a punto de cambiar. La gran sorpresa de las últimas semanas de campaña no era ideológica sino aritmética: Marine Le Pen había recortado distancias con Emmanuel Macron hasta situarse, en algunos sondeos, dentro del margen de error. Ninguna encuesta la mostraba por delante, pero la tendencia era inequívoca. Un primer puesto simbólico le daría un impulso real de cara a la segunda vuelta del 24 de abril.
Le Pen contaba además con un viento a favor: Éric Zemmour, que había llegado a rozar el 9 % y le había arrebatado votos en los meses anteriores, estaba en caída libre. Esos electores representaban un reservorio que ella podía absorber, y un buen resultado el domingo validaría la apuesta estratégica que había hecho: suavizar las posiciones más radicales de su partido en materia de inmigración e integración europea.
En el otro extremo del espectro, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, a sus 70 años y en su tercera candidatura presidencial, apelaba al 'voto útil' para atraer a los seguidores de Jadot, Roussel e Hidalgo. Si lograba consolidar ese voto disperso, podría colarse en el balotaje y evitar que la izquierda quedara fuera del duelo final por segunda vez consecutiva.
Pero la gran incógnita era la participación. El abstencionismo se preveía en torno al 28,4 %, igualando el récord histórico de 2002. Casi dos tercios de los franceses declaraban escaso o nulo interés en la elección, y uno de cada ocho reconocía no saber siquiera que había comicios ese domingo. En una carrera tan ajustada, la movilización podía decidirlo todo.
Mientras tanto, dos pilares de la política francesa contemplaban su propio ocaso. Valérie Pécresse, candidata de la derecha moderada, rondaba el 9 % —el peor resultado en la historia del partido heredero del gaullismo—. Y Anne Hidalgo, alcaldesa de París y candidata socialista, se situaba en el 2 %, por debajo incluso del umbral que permite recuperar los gastos electorales. El partido de Mitterrand y Hollande se enfrentaba a una pregunta existencial sobre su propia continuidad, desgarrado entre facciones y despojado de su electorado histórico. Francia votaba, pero lo hacía sobre los escombros de un orden político que había durado medio siglo.
France was heading into the first round of its presidential election on a Sunday in April 2022, and the country's political establishment was bracing for a result that could upend five decades of electoral patterns. The dominant story of the campaign's final hours was not what anyone had predicted months earlier: the far-right candidate Marine Le Pen was closing in on Emmanuel Macron, the centrist incumbent seeking reelection. No single poll showed her ahead, but the trend line was unmistakable. She had been gaining ground for days while Macron's support had flatlined. In some surveys, the gap between them had narrowed to fewer than three percentage points—well within the margin of error. If that momentum held through Sunday, Le Pen would achieve something symbolically enormous: a first-round victory that would carry her into the April 24 runoff with genuine momentum.
Le Pen had another advantage working in her favor. Éric Zemmour, another far-right candidate who had initially siphoned votes from her coalition, was fading. Zemmour had polled as high as 9 percent but was now in decline, and those voters represented a potential reservoir she could tap. For Le Pen personally, a strong first-round showing would validate a strategic choice she had made: softening the party's most inflammatory positions on immigration and European integration. She had watched key allies abandon her for Zemmour in recent months. A victory on Sunday would prove that her recalibration had worked.
The left, meanwhile, was locked in its own desperate calculation. Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the 70-year-old leftist making his third run at the presidency, was trailing the second-round threshold by roughly four percentage points according to the most optimistic polls. He was making a final push for what he called "useful voting"—an appeal to supporters of the ecologist Yannick Jadot (5 percent), the communist Fabien Roussel (3 percent), and the Socialist Anne Hidalgo (2 percent) to consolidate behind him. If he could pull those voters his way, he might squeeze past Le Pen and avoid a repeat of 2017, when the traditional left had been locked out of the runoff entirely.
But the real wildcard was turnout. Abstention was expected to hover around or exceed 28.4 percent—matching the record set in 2002, the highest in the entire history of the Fifth Republic. The campaign had generated less public interest than any presidential election in recent memory. The pandemic and the war in Ukraine had drained energy from what was normally the French political calendar's marquee event. Nearly two-thirds of French voters said they had little or no interest in the election. One in eight admitted they did not even know voting was happening on Sunday. Among those who said they would vote, nearly a third remained undecided or said they might change their minds at the last moment. In a race this tight, turnout could determine everything.
The moderate right was facing a potential extinction event. Valérie Pécresse, the president of the Paris region and the center-right candidate, was polling around 9 percent—on track for the worst result in the history of the Gaullist party that had dominated French politics since de Gaulle himself. Five years earlier, François Fillon had come within half a million votes of Le Pen but still failed to make the runoff, marking the first time in the party's history it had been shut out of the second round. Pécresse's collapse was already reopening old wounds between the party's hardline and moderate wings.
The Socialist Party, once the party of Mitterrand and Hollande, was staring at an even grimmer fate. Anne Hidalgo, the Socialist candidate and mayor of Paris, was polling at 2 percent—below even the 5 percent threshold at which the state reimburses campaign expenses. She was tracking far below Benoît Hamon's 6.4 percent in 2017, which had already been the party's worst result in its history. The debacle that was unfolding raised a fundamental question about whether the Socialist Party could survive at all, torn as it was between Hidalgo's faction and the line represented by party secretary Olivier Faure. As France prepared to vote, two of its traditional political forces appeared to be approaching the end of their relevance.
Citas Notables
Nearly two-thirds of French voters said they had little or no interest in the election, and one in eight admitted they did not even know voting was happening.— Survey data cited in reporting
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why does it matter if Le Pen finishes ahead of Macron in the first round if she's likely to face him again in the runoff anyway?
Because momentum is real in politics, and symbolism shapes how voters see their own power. If she wins Sunday, she enters the final two weeks as the candidate who beat the sitting president. That changes the narrative from "she's gaining" to "she's winning." It also proves her strategy of moderating her image actually works with voters.
You mention nearly a third of voters are still undecided. How is that even possible a day before the election?
Apathy. When people don't care much about an election, they don't decide until the last moment—or they don't decide at all and stay home. The pandemic, the war in Ukraine, the sense that nothing much will change—it all adds up to a kind of exhaustion. People are going through the motions, not engaging.
The Socialist Party polling at 2 percent sounds like a death sentence. Is it actually over for them?
It might be. They've been declining for years, but this would be the final blow. When a major party can't even hit the threshold to get campaign money back, it signals they've lost their base entirely. The party is already fractured internally. A result this bad could force a reckoning about whether the party itself can continue.
And the moderate right—Pécresse—is she the victim of Le Pen's rise, or did she just run a bad campaign?
Both. She was chosen in a closed primary that didn't energize the party base. But she's also been crushed between Macron on one side and the far-right surge on the other. There's no political space for moderate conservatism right now. Voters either want Macron's centrist stability or they want the far-right's disruption. The middle has collapsed.
If abstention hits 28 percent, does that help or hurt Le Pen?
That's the question no one can answer until the votes are counted. High abstention usually hurts the left more than the right, but it also depends on who stays home. If Macron voters are demoralized and don't show up, it helps Le Pen. If far-right voters are energized and do show up, it helps her too. The uncertainty is part of what makes Sunday so unpredictable.