Saving Democracy from Itself

• In Agatha Christie’s novel The Hollow, the eccentric Lucy Angkatell holds a dinner party for the Christows (John, a famous doctor, and his wife, Gerda), various members of her extended family, and her neighbor, detective Hercule Poirot. The next morning, Poirot witnesses a scene that seems strangely staged: Gerda stands with a gun in her hand next to John’s body as it bleeds into the swimming pool. Lucy, Henrietta (John’s lover), and Edward (a cousin of Lucy’s) are also present. John utters a final urgent appeal, “Henrietta,” and dies.

It seems obvious that Gerda is the murderer. Henrietta steps forward to take the revolver from her hand, but apparently fumbles and drops it into the pool, destroying the evidence of Gerda’s fingerprints on the handle. Poirot realizes that the dying man’s “Henrietta” was a call to his lover to protect his wife from imprisonment for his death.

Without any conscious plan, the entire family joins in the plot and deliberately misdirects Poirot. Each of them knows that Gerda is the murderer, so they stage the crime scene, but in a reflexive way: the deception lies in the very fact that it appears staged. The truth masks itself as artifice, such that the faked elements are, in fact, “clues.” As another of Christie’s famous detectives, Jane Marple, remarks in They Do It with Mirrors: “Never underestimate the power of the obvious.”

If we replace John’s body with democracy and Gerda with French President Emmanuel Macron, we can open a window onto France following its parliamentary election this summer. After the far-right National Rally won the first round, Macron was caught holding a smoking gun. But in the weeks and months thereafter, he managed to protect French democracy by partly suspending it, thus denying the second-round winner – a leftist coalition called the New Popular Front (NFP) – the fruits of its victory.

The French constitution – which was imposed by Charles de Gaulle at the establishment of the Fifth Republic in 1958 – stipulates that the president nominates the prime minister, whose appointed government can operate even if its members have not been confirmed by the National Assembly. It was owing to this peculiarity that François Mitterand later decried the Fifth Republic as undemocratic, describing it in 1964 as a “permanent coup.”

The rationale for this constitutional feature was that the French people should be forced to make a choice, and that if their choice is unclear, the president has the authority – and the duty – to maintain order and stability. The June European Parliament election and the French general election both indicated that French voters were unable or unwilling to make a clear choice. In doing so, they gave Macron the opening he needed to sideline both the far right and the NFP by allying his own coalition with the Gaullist Republicans.

Macron was widely criticized for calling an election so soon after National Rally had finished first in the EU election. But National Rally ultimately finished third, and other parties have de facto supported his handling of the situation by not calling for a no-confidence vote against his recently appointed prime minister, Michel Barnier.

Something similar happened in France during the historic May 1968 protests, which almost toppled de Gaulle and his government – or so it seemed – only for him to return with a new National Assembly in place. Notably, the protests erupted at the very high point of the French welfare state, when the standard of living was higher than it had ever been before.

The implication, in retrospect, is that a strong case can be made for enlightened dictatorship. France is lucky in that its constitution allows for the type of partial suspension of parliamentary democracy that Macron indulged in. Just imagine what will happen in Germany when there is no possible way to form a government without including the far-right Alternative für Deutschland.

Although I disagree with Macron’s politics and policies, I respect his quick reaction to the far right’s apparent ascent this summer. His decision to dissolve parliament was certainly risky, but it was a risk worth taking. The new fascism must be fought with haste and vigor wherever it appears.

Though National Rally’s Marine Le Pen was denied her victory in the second round, CNN described the result well: “Macron’s gamble has kept the far right out of power, but plunged France into chaos.” Because Macron and Jean-Luc Mélenchon (the key figure in the NPF) are so far apart, no deal to forge a grand coalition seemed possible. Instead, the country seemed set for a prolonged period of instability and anti-left subterfuge – bad news for an already brittle economy and efforts to fend off the far right in the 2027 presidential election.

Instead, France has not been plunged into chaos. For now, at least, it seems that Macron’s gamble has restored a semblance of normality. Some will wonder whether a non-elected government can drag on indefinitely; but others will answer, “Why not?” It is certainly preferable to a hung parliament, prolonged political unrest, and social and economic chaos.

Through a de facto partial suspension of democracy, Macron kept the far right out of power and restored stability. For that, he deserves congratulations and support. With neo-fascism on the rise globally, similar measures may prove necessary elsewhere. As the philosopher Jon Elster concluded in 2020: “We can reverse the common dictum that democracy is under threat, and affirm that democracy is the threat, at least in its short-termist populist form.”