A very French shadow over Europe by Nadine Moreau

It’s a strange irony of politics: those who rise on the promise of renewal often end up awakening the very forces they once claimed to oppose. Emmanuel Macron, once hailed as the centrist saviour of Europe, the man who would fend off populism and restore faith in liberal democracy, has now become, perhaps unintentionally, its greatest enabler in France. His years in power, marred by tone-deaf reforms, arrogance, and an ever-widening disconnect from ordinary citizens, have done what decades of far-right agitation could not: they have normalized Marine Le Pen and her National Rally as the “serious alternative.”

And that is precisely what makes this moment so perilous, not just for France, but for Europe as a whole.

Macron’s presidency was supposed to be a counterbalance to the nationalist tide sweeping the West after Brexit and Trump. Instead, his leadership has been a masterclass in how technocratic aloofness breeds populist fury. His relentless faith in market logic and his cold, managerial style may have impressed Brussels and the global elite, but it alienated the working class, the rural population, and even much of France’s youth. The “president of the rich,” as he’s often derisively called, seems to have lost touch with the pulse of a nation exhausted by inequality, inflation, and social tension.

The consequence? Marine Le Pen no longer feels like an outlier. She feels, frighteningly enough, like inevitability.

For years, Le Pen was easy to dismiss, a relic of France’s political fringes, burdened by her father’s toxic legacy. But Macron’s France has changed the landscape. His failure to bridge the widening social divide, his mishandling of the “gilets jaunes” protests, his reforms that seemed to favour the powerful over the precarious, and his perceived arrogance toward dissent have all made Le Pen’s populist rhetoric sound like common sense to millions.

She has rebranded masterfully, softening her image, discarding overt extremism, and positioning herself as the “protector of the people” against the “elites of Paris and Brussels.” Her message is no longer one of rage; it’s one of reassurance. While Macron spoke in the language of statistics and competitiveness, Le Pen began speaking the language of belonging and pride. And that emotional appeal is proving devastatingly effective.

The danger lies in the illusion of moderation. Le Pen’s National Rally has not changed its ideological core, only its wardrobe. Beneath the polished rhetoric and disciplined media strategy remains a worldview hostile to immigration, sceptical of Europe, and allergic to pluralism. Her party’s newfound respectability is not a sign of transformation, but of society’s slow acclimation to ideas once thought unacceptable.

This normalization is Macron’s greatest failure. He promised to heal divisions, yet his governance has deepened them. His centrist experiment, intended to transcend left and right, has instead hollowed out both, leaving a vacuum where extremists thrive. The traditional parties that once anchored French politics, the Socialists and the Republicans, are now mere shadows, irrelevant in a duel that feels increasingly preordained: Macron’s technocracy versus Le Pen’s populism. And the latter, for the first time, looks poised to win.

France, always the barometer of Europe’s political mood, is drifting toward a storm. A Le Pen presidency would send shockwaves far beyond its borders. It would embolden far-right movements from Italy to Austria, from Hungary to the Netherlands. It would undermine the fragile unity of the European Union, already strained by migration disputes and the rise of nationalist governments. It would challenge the very foundations of the European project, cooperation, solidarity, and shared values.

And make no mistake: it wouldn’t happen in a vacuum. Across Europe, the same forces are at play, disillusionment with elites, fatigue with globalization, and a yearning for identity in an era of relentless change. Macron’s failure is emblematic of a wider European failure to listen, to adapt, to humanize politics again. By dismissing populist anger as ignorance or intolerance, Europe’s leaders have fed the resentment that fuels it.

If Le Pen does win, it will not simply be the triumph of the far right; it will be the indictment of an entire political class that stopped understanding the people it claimed to represent. Macron’s polished speeches about “European sovereignty” will feel painfully hollow as France, the EU’s beating heart, drifts toward nationalism.

But perhaps the most tragic part of this story is how avoidable it was. Macron had the opportunity and the mandate to reinvent French politics. He had the charisma, the intellect, and the international credibility to lead a genuine democratic renewal. Yet, somewhere between Davos and the Élysée Palace, he lost sight of the streets of Marseille, Lille, and Lyon. He lost sight of the retired worker watching fuel prices climb, of the student unable to pay rent, of the nurse stretched thin by austerity. His “reforms” came to symbolize not progress, but punishment.

Meanwhile, Le Pen waited patiently, strategically. She watched Macron alienate his left flank, demoralize the center, and exhaust his right. Now, she stands ready to collect the pieces.

This is not simply a French drama; it’s a European warning. When liberal democracy becomes synonymous with arrogance and detachment, populism inevitably rises to claim authenticity. Macron’s project of rational governance, efficient, data-driven, and unapologetically elite, forgot one thing democracy is not just about reason; it’s about emotion, dignity, and recognition. Le Pen understood that. And she has weaponized it.

The next French election may well be the moment when the façade of “republican unity” against the far right finally cracks. Macron’s centrism, having absorbed and exhausted both sides, leaves little room for resistance. The unthinkable a Le Pen presidency, no longer feels distant. It feels, alarmingly, like the logical conclusion of Macron’s France.

Europe should pay close attention. Because if France, the birthplace of the Enlightenment, the architect of the EU’s modern soul, succumbs to nationalist rule, it won’t just be a French failure. It will be the unravelling of the European dream itself.

And when that happens, we won’t be able to say we weren’t warned. We’ll only be able to say that we didn’t listen.