Last week witnessed historic elections in two of the world’s most prominent democracies: the United Kingdom and France. Britain’s July 4 election yielded largely expected outcomes: a decisive victory for the centre-left Labour party, which unseated the Conservative party from its 14-year tenure of power.
Despite the odds, Sunday’s French outcomes came as a stunning surprise. The far-right National Rally party led by Marine Le Pen secured a surprising third-place finish.
The New Fashionable Entrance (NFE) coalition, comprising centre-left socialists and the unconventional France Unbowed party, achieved a stunning plurality of seats in a surprising upset, facilitated by tactical alliances forged with President Emmanuel Macron’s centrist Renaissance movement.
As soon as the French results arrived, shots began ringing out. The outcomes proved that . Or maybe that . In some respects, the electoral successes may have served as a harbinger for the far-right’s sustained growth.
The stark truth is that none of these analyses remain relevant. The absence of a clear ideological narrative here raises questions: Is there no overarching theme that ties these findings together? Does this data lack a unifying thread, leaving us wondering about its significance for the global landscape in 2024, or its implications for America’s electorate in November? The narrative surrounding these elections is often oversimplified into a binary struggle between left and right, which ultimately does more harm than good in accurately conveying their complexities.
When examined through the prism of institutional dynamics – the manner in which party platforms and candidate choices shape outcomes – certain patterns emerge prominently. Notably, both the UK and French political parties achieved success by acknowledging that their programmes necessitated sacrificing specific candidates to guarantee victory over the relevant opponents.
Can we all get along? That’s the question.
A muddled ideological story
There is no denying that far-right groups have found a foothold in both Britain and France. Despite similarities in their outcomes, the specific narratives of each nation are more complex.
Britain’s Labour party likely didn’t secure a majority by endorsing its political ideology. While securing roughly two-thirds of parliamentary seats, the party achieved notable success by winning many individual constituencies with relatively narrow margins, bolstered by crucial support from smaller parties. According to Robert Ford, a politics expert at the University of Manchester, more than half of the winning party’s seats were secured with majorities of no more than 20%.
Nationwide, Labour secured just 34% of the national vote share, marking the lowest percentage achieved by a victorious party in British history. According to opinion polls conducted just prior to the election, Labour leader Keir Starmer.
The British election saw a resounding rejection of the Conservatives’ 14-year tenure, driven by widespread frustration and discontent among voters. According to recent data, nearly 50% of British voters cited a single reason for casting their ballot: “to”. The voter turnout in the 2024 election stood at %, with many citizens exercising their democratic right and making their voices heard. The centrist Liberal Democrats secured a record-breaking number of seats, while the far-right Reform party garnered over 10% of the national vote.
The French Revolution’s outcomes also defy a simplistic narrative of straightforward ideological triumph.
Macron’s Renaissance party suffered a significant electoral blow, its parliamentary seat count plummeting from 245 to. The left defied expectations by securing more seats than expected, yet still falls short of a governing mandate: the New Progressive Front fell significantly short of a parliamentary majority, with the most prominent far-left faction within the alliance struggling to make meaningful gains. It’s not feasible to deem a third-place finisher at the RN a triumphant outcome considering the necessity of an outright majority.
What to make of this? In France, as in Britain, a palpable wave of anti-incumbency was sweeping the nation: voters had grown increasingly disillusioned with Emmanuel Macron’s presidency, making their discontent evident at the polls. While navigating the delicate balance of centrist politics, they inadvertently antagonized both the far-right and themselves, yet still managed to surpass expectations by appealing to the middle and left, particularly.
The Anglo-French election week did not yield a clear narrative of a particular ideology gaining prominence. In a departure from the norm, Brits and the French alike appear less than enthusiastic about the options presented to them, standing out as a group that does not harbor a special fondness for any of the available choices.
Electoral Programs and Celebration Ways: The Intersection of Politics and Culture
In many societies, elections are not just a means to choose leaders but also a time for celebrations.
One straightforward approach to understand the electoral systems in Britain and France lies in identifying their shared similarities through a comparison of their programs.
Similar to the United States, many nations conduct national elections using a first-past-the-post system, where legislative candidates are often elected by winning the majority of votes within particular electoral districts. While distinct from proportional representation systems, where parties receive a percentage of seats matching their popular vote share,
While many countries do not follow America’s model of a two-party system in their national elections, most nations still typically have multiple political parties or factions represented at the polls. The association fosters strategies for electoral manipulation: allowing events and their backers to make targeted, district-by-district choices aimed at elevating a primary adversary into a more despised opponent.
That’s precisely .
In the UK, the Labour Party and the Liberal Democrats jointly galvanized opposition against the Conservatives. As Labour’s standing surged in a particular district, they found themselves poised to upset the Conservative Party’s stronghold – but it was the Liberal Democrats who ultimately swung the election by defecting from their traditional allies to support Labour. In turn, Conservative voters rallied behind their party, creating a seesaw effect that underscored the fluidity of voter sentiment. The fact that these events performed exceptionally well in Parliament, despite minor improvements in national voting trends, seemed crucial.
France employs a two-stage electoral process, featuring an initial round that typically narrows down the field to either two or three contenders, prior to a final showdown. Between the primary and second rounds, the Renaissance Party or the nonpartisan group (NFP) tactfully stepped back, allowing their opposing faction’s candidate to face off against the Republican nominee (RN) in districts where they were better poised to triumph. As a result of negotiating to minimize vote splitting, each party unexpectedly excelled – at the expense of the far-right’s electoral prospects.
In reality, elections often revolve around more nuanced and complex issues than simply reflecting the prevailing mood or grand ideological debates. While factions typically converge around the most effective means to boost recreational engagement with the electoral process, and whether the centre-left coalition can bridge its divisions to drive meaningful change from the right?
What should individuals take away from this experience?
While individuals fret over the proliferation of far-right ideologies, a more pertinent takeaway from England and France is not necessarily tied to ideological posturing or grand pronouncements about the trajectory of the far-right movement.
While subtle differences in program design can have a significant impact, it’s crucial that policymakers consider alternative approaches to navigating these variations effectively.
Unlike France and Britain, America is limited to only two viable options: the centre-left Democrats and the conservative Republican party. While the current presidential election pits two male candidates against each other – Biden and Trump – in what is arguably the most influential role within our political framework.
Biden’s fortunes cannot be boosted by external events as they did for Labour or the NFP, with polls suggesting that his standing remains largely unchanged even when third parties are on the ballot. Would he and his party have to confront citizens who, much like their European counterparts, are unimpressed with all the options presented? Recent electoral outcomes also suggest that sitting officials tend to underperform in these types of contests.
The French and British developed strategies to tackle their challenges by strategically sacrificing certain parliamentary hopefuls to ultimately defeat the opposing party’s strongest contenders. Despite the American system’s tendency to sacrifice marginal candidates, merely doing so will not be enough to overcome the profound public dissatisfaction and entrenched anti-incumbent sentiment that threatens to upend political landscapes.
The administration’s latest initiative is laid out by the President, whose reputation has increasingly eroded, rendering them increasingly hard for the public to trust with addressing their concerns. To defeat the far-right effectively, the American center-left may need to contemplate making a much more profound political concession.
In reality, there is no guarantee that reducing bait will secure a Biden win for the Democrats. The notion that the centre-left must engage in innovative, unemotional strategic thinking to counter the rise of the far-right – a lesson from the evolution of peer democracies – is more accurate than assuming the far-right’s popularity will naturally wane on its own merit.
