Poll conundrums of France, Britain

The outcome of the United Kingdom’s general election, in which Keir Starmer’s Labour secured two-thirds of the seats in Parliament despite receiving just 33.8% of the vote, shows that Roman statesman Marcus Tullius Cicero was right: “Nothing is more uncertain than the masses, nothing more obscure than human will, nothing more deceptive than the whole electoral process.”
Shortly after the election, advocates of electoral reform in the UK attributed Labour’s overwhelming victory to the country’s first-past-the-post (FPTP) system and called for a shift to proportional representation. Labour’s share of the vote, the argument goes, was too small to justify such a supermajority, especially in comparison to previous elections. The fragmentation of votes across multiple political parties contributed significantly to this seemingly disproportionate outcome, as did Labour’s strategy of maximising the ratio of seats per voter.
A few days later, the second round of France’s snap election resulted in a hung parliament and political uncertainty that will likely persist for months, if not years. Although Marine Le Pen’s National Rally (RN) became the single largest party in the National Assembly, it ended up in third place, behind the left-wing New Popular Front (NPF) coalition and President Emmanuel Macron’s centrist alliance, Ensemble. Remarkably, despite receiving 37% of the vote, RN won just 24% of the seats.
France’s majoritarian electoral system was supposed to prevent such a deadlock. Established in 1958, it was designed to overcome the Fourth Republic’s structural instability (frequent changes in government) by awarding a de facto seat premium to the largest party – a principle known in France as “fait majoritaire.” But no party has been able to secure an absolute majority since 2022, owing to a combination of political fragmentation and convoluted alliances.
The French election’s outcome can be attributed largely to a series of candidate withdrawals between the first and second rounds. To prevent RN from gaining a majority, all other parties – including Macron’s coalition – withdrew their candidates in various constituencies, leaving only one contender to face the far-right. This approach resulted in many close races, but proved effective in getting voters to reject RN.
Instead of producing a majority, however, this anti-RN tactic may alienate many voters who view political alliances as either ineffective or unstable, further eroding trust in politicians and reinforcing populist trends. Moreover, it resulted in a fragmented parliament that is divided into three main blocs of similar size. The largest coalition, the NPF, claims the mandate to govern, despite not having a majority and receiving only 26.3% of the vote.
Similarly, Macron’s allies believe they still have a pivotal role to play in governing, despite being rejected by the vast majority of voters in both the European Parliament elections and the general election. Macron himself, essentially a lame duck, will find it difficult to navigate the next three years, even without a major political or economic crisis.
Meanwhile, RN is capitalising on the situation, claiming that being excluded from power is proof that the system is rigged. Staying in the opposition will allow the party to avoid making any massively unpopular budget decisions, thus solidifying its position as the favourite to win the 2027 presidential election.
Given this current deadlock, where the three main blocs lack both a majority in Parliament and compatible ideas, some commentators are urging French political leaders to embrace compromise and consensus-building. After all, countries like Germany, The Netherlands, Belgium, and Sweden have faced similar challenges: the rise of far-right populist parties, voter fragmentation, and the collapse of bipartisan systems, driven by economic decline, uncontrolled immigration, and rising crime.
Yet despite these issues, former adversaries have managed to set aside their ideological differences and form effective coalition governments. France, according to this argument, must learn from these examples to overcome its own political turmoil.
But neither France nor the UK can easily change its political culture, given their long histories of centralised governance. In both countries, a strong state has created a vertical power structure, preventing the emergence of consensus-seeking practices or collective decision-making. This is exacerbated by the dominance of bipartisanism in the UK and the pervasive influence of ideology in France. Consequently, there is little appetite for compromise and coalition-building on either side of the Channel. Changing these political dynamics will likely require a prolonged process of devolution.
France and the UK have much in common beyond their electoral systems. Both have experienced a gradual political and economic decline since the end of their respective empires and a surge of support for populist parties, fuelled by disaffected voters lamenting the loss of purchasing power and cultural identity. — Project Syndicate