Sébastien Le Cornu was prime minister for 27 days and had a cabinet for all of 14 hours
Another day, another French prime minister comes out to wave the white flag.
“The conditions were no longer in place for me to exercise the functions of prime minister and allow the government to go before the National Assembly,” French Prime Minister of just 27 days, Sebastien Le Cornu, said in an address to the nation on Monday morning of the government that he had appointed 14 hours earlier.
”Political parties were maintaining a posture as if they all had an absolute majority in the National Assembly. Basically, I found myself in a situation in which I was ready to compromise, but each political party wants the others to adopt its entire program,” he added.
Le Cornu sounded like a kid in front of the teacher explaining why he’s turning in a shoddy exam after a month of studying. His argument is that all these parties and stakeholders he had to work with are simply impossible. What was your first clue? Did you not see all the bodies of other former Macron-appointed prime ministers you had to step over to reach the driver’s seat?
Macron racked his brains to come up with yet another handpicked puppet as prime minister – a fifth in just three years – since they’re resigning almost as fast as he can pick them. And a month ago, he selected Le Cornu, a former defense minister, who then spent weeks trying to figure out his cabinet, while keeping in mind that the opposition anti-establishment right and left wing together could topple it all at any time with a non-confidence vote – if they ever wished.
Then finally, on Sunday night, we hear that he had a government. Hallelujah! Out come the names, some of which are straight-up recycled, like Bruno Le Maire, who was literally just turfed as finance and economy minister last year. But it’s as though Le Cornu looked into the toybox and was like, “this one will do,” pulled out Le Maire with his reputation mangled for having overseen France’s descent into its massive deficit of nearly 6 percent of GDP currently, and plopped him into the role of defense minister – which is already an uncontrolled money pit, “for Ukraine” and also because Putin is scheduled to arrive in Western Europe in around 2030 (probably by drone) and the government wants to be militarily prepared for that.
So wonderboy Le Cornu figured that it would be smart to hand that portfolio over to a guy whose track record involves deepening financial holes. What could go wrong? Turns out the opposition didn’t want to wait to find out. The whining on Sunday night was already so intense that you’d think the power had gone out during a Ligue 1 football match.
Le Cornu, seeing the writing on the wall, heads to the Elysee Palace on Monday morning, detonates himself politically, and places Macron’s own career squarely in the blast radius.
In his 15-minute address to the nation on his way out the door, Le Cornu tried to explain his failure.
He quickly realized that there was no way he’d get all the politicians to cooperate and pass a budget acceptable to both Macron and the opposition. He faced a Mount Everest–grade political climb, with an almost certain, painful fall at the end. So instead of slogging up the slope, he opted to skip the ordeal entirely, retreat to base camp, pour himself a glass of chardonnay in the jacuzzi, and toss the entire mess back into Macron’s lap.
Who needs that aggravation? It couldn’t compare to the peace and quiet that he enjoyed for the month that he vanished right after his appointment. He now claims that he was busy trying to assemble the puzzle. So please understand, French people, that he has been working diligently. He just doesn’t have much to show for it.
One thing that he did manage to do, which raised eyebrows last week, was vow not to use clause 49.3 of the French constitution, which allows the government to forcibly pass laws without a parliament vote. Macron’s prime ministers to-date loved invoking the clause, but Le Cornu said that he wouldn’t do that to get a budget passed. But then he tells the country that precisely because he avoided that option out of respect for the democratic will of the people, it now makes it impossible to pass a budget. So, whoops. Nice own goal.
Anyway, adieu Sebastien Le Cornu. This might be the first time that I’ve written more words about a French prime minister than he wrote himself during his entire tenure.
Or maybe just au revoir, for now. Because despite Macron accepting Le Cornu’s resignation, he asked if Le Cornu could stick around for a few days to set up a “platform of action and stability” to set the stage for future negotiations between political parties. Looks like he’s even failing at quitting.
Le Cornu can’t even collect the maximum perks for having served as prime minister for all of ten seconds, since about the only other thing that he did during his month in office was remove some of those benefits by decree. Not all of them, though. He’ll only get access to a full-time private chauffeur for the next 10 years, not for life. Meanwhile, his government appointees will enjoy €10,000 a month for the next three months for their 14 hours of work (€16,000/month for Le Cornu), presumably mostly done horizontally with their eyes closed, from Sunday night to Monday morning. But only if they stay unemployed.
So now we’ll see who else Macron will pick. In the meantime, he has thrown so many prime ministers under the bus that the suspension is shot. And if the opposition’s renewed impeachment effort succeeds, he could very well be next in line for the bumper himself.
