---
title: "What the F*ck Just Happened in France?"
description: "Lecornu resigned, survived a no-confidence vote, and came back as prime minister in five days. Macron's gamble has bought time, but the budget standoff that felled four governments remains unsolved."
url: https://fronts.co/videos/what-the-fck-just-happened-in-france.md
canonical: https://fronts.co/videos/what-the-fck-just-happened-in-france/
datePublished: 2026-10-21T17:28:13.000Z
dateModified: 2026-10-21T17:28:13.000Z
author:
  - name: Simon Whistler
    url: https://fronts.co/authors/simon-whistler/
publisher: Fronts
image: "https://media.fronts.co/cdn-cgi/image/width=1200,height=630,fit=cover,gravity=auto,quality=80,format=auto/images/articles/what-the-fck-just-happened-in-france-a83cfa57.png"
type: NewsArticle
language: en
access: members
isAccessibleForFree: false
tokens: 4483
---

<!-- aeo:section start="lede" -->
Even by the standards of a country for which the answer to the question "how

many revolutions do you want?"

is "Yes, last weekend was something new."

What was said to be a nationwide day of demonstrations over economic grievances

drew more than half a million people onto the streets of France,

and as the afternoon wore on, the protests turned into riots.

So far, so fresh. But what had been next went way beyond what we used to seeing

on the streets of Paris.

Clashes spread across the country, leaving cities and towns with burned-out

buildings,

vandalized shops, and a distinctive feeling of "what the f*ck just happened?"

But while that's the obvious question to ask, it's also not the only one.

Beyond the simple facts surrounding these days of writing, there are also two

other burning questions.

Why did this happen, and what does it mean for the country's future?

France is burning.

For many outside France, the weekend's chaos was the first that had heard about

the protests

in France for several years. But while Saturday and Sunday saw by far the worst

of the violence,

the demonstrations themselves had actually been going on for weeks.

Back in late September, students at a high school in Crete, just outside of

Paris,

began blockading their school over teacher shortages, overcrowding, and

buildings that

they described as falling apart. They weren't alone in suffering these

conditions either.

Last year, nearly 10% of scheduled classes in French public schools never took

place on

account of staffing shortages, while buildings are widely reported to be in a

poor state.

The trouble for the French government, though, was that meeting those demands

would mean spending

money that it simply doesn't have. France has been running budget deficits of 5

% of GDP for

more than three years, while its national debt has climbed to nearly 120% of

the entire economy.

So the only response the government could make to student demands for more

money was

what money. Things continued to heat up from there, and by October 1, hundreds

of schools

were being blockaded. And while a lot of protests were peaceful, some of them

went way further.

In Marseilles, teachers were reportedly doused in petrol, while at another

school,

students forced firefighters out of their truck before setting it ablaze.

As the protests snowballed, other groups started joining in. Trade unions,

public sector workers,

and even some from the yellow vest movements that had set off their own round

of writing in 2018,

all started to get involved. As October rolled on, the original focus on school

conditions began

being drowned out by a growing list of grievances from these other groups.

Labor unions, for example, have long been frustrated over wages, pensions, and

cuts to public spending,

while the rising cost of living has been a serious issue for French households

across the country.

With the government already struggling to keep its finances under control,

there wasn't exactly much that Macron could offer to satisfy them.

That ultimately set the stage for Saturday, October 17, when groups came

together for a nationwide

day of demonstrations. According to the French government, some 550,000 people

participated,

while organizers claimed the real figure was closer to 800,000.

Either way, it was massive, and while a turnout of that size would have been

headline news in and

of itself, it was completely overshadowed by the violence that unfolded

alongside it.

In Paris, where some 110,000 demonstrators had gathered, things descended into

running street

battles. Around the Place de la Republique, groups of writers began shocking

stones and even

launching fireworks at police, who responded with tear gas and stun grenades.

The police were

badly outnumbered, though, and as the violence escalated, more and more people

began to join in

across the city. To give you a sense of scale, on Boulevard, Ramour, a group of

12 officers

found themselves facing several hundred writers, forcing them to retreat while

attempting to avoid

being boxed in. Elsewhere in the city, a crowd pushed within just 300 meters of

the Alize Palace,

although police stopped them from actually breaching the perimeter. Elsewhere

in the country,

though, officials weren't so lucky. The worst scene of all was in the city of

Limoges in Central

France, where as many as 3000 writers swarmed the streets and ultimately

stormed the city's

historic town hall. Once inside, some of them set the building on fire with

elected officials

and municipal staff still inside. If that doesn't sound dystopian enough, well,

it weren't done.

When firefighters arrived to try and contain the flames, writers began throwing

whatever they

could get their hands on, all but blocking their ability to actually reach the

burning town hall.

By nightfall, the fire had spread to the building's historic bell tower, which

collapsed.

The building, which had withstood two world wars, sits in ruins today.

And while the destruction in Limoges was certainly the most headline worthy,

it was just one part of a nationwide upheaval. By the time the violence came to

a tentative halt,

at least 3,000 shops and other businesses had been looted or vandalized with

losses estimated

in the hundreds of millions of euros. The police, meanwhile, had taken a hell

of a beating.

After the government deployed some 60,000 officers and Jean-Dorm across the

country,

authorities reported that nearly 1,000 are meningered, several of them severely

while nearly 2,400 protesters have been arrested. In short, the whole of France

woke up on Monday

to a disaster zone, the images of which are the beamed around the world.

But they also woke up to an important question. How the hell had this been

allowed to happen?

Who's to blame?

By the time Sunday evening rolled around, the worst of the destruction seemed

to finally

be wrapping up. But in Paris, another fight was only just getting started.

One centred on figuring out who exactly was to blame.

President Emmanuel Macron attempted to get ahead of this on Sunday evening.

Speaking from the Elysier Palace, he described feeling both anger and shame

over what had happened,

condemning what he described as ultra-left extremists and criminals for

attacking the

institutions of the French Republic. He promised that those responsible would

be held accountable

and ordered an investigation into how the police had lost control of the

situation so badly.

A cynic might say that this was at least partially an attempt to deflect

attention

from his own failings. On Friday, the day before the worst of our hearts broke

out,

but at a time it was clear that trouble was brewing, he was spotted attending a

Celine Dion

concert with his wife. And then on Monday, while the country was still in shock,

he left for a trip to the Middle East, one admittedly meant to help secure

additional oil

and diesel for France, but also one that didn't exactly help his optics.

With Macron out of the country, the unenviable task, cleaning up the mess,

had largely fallen to his Prime Minister, Sebastian Le Corneaux.

On Monday, his government introduced localized curfews in some of the worst

affected areas,

promised additional support for businesses, and vowed a crackdown on those

responsible for

the destruction. But Le Corneaux was also determined to make sure that his

government

wasn't left shouldering all of the blame, and he was quick to point the finger

at someone else.

The far-left leader of France unbowed Jean-Luc Melinshain.

Melinshain personally participated in Saturday's demonstrations,

and while he did say that looting and destruction have no place in his movement,

he shifted the blame for it back to the state, specifically the police,

who he described as having "opened the door to chaos."

Later in the weekend, when he was asked about the nearly 1,000 injured police

officers,

Melinshain shrugged it off, saying that it was "part of the job."

This calls the Prime Minister to retort on X that "you cannot call for an end

to the violence

while providing excuses to those who commit it." This is your political

responsibility.

But while Le Corneaux is determined to hold Melinshain responsible politically,

that still leaves the question of who was actually out on the streets doing the

writing.

French authorities have increasingly pointed towards organized groups of ultra-

left militants,

particularly the so-called "black blocks." These aren't really a single

organization,

but rather loosely connected groups of anarchists and other far-left extremists

who dress in black

could seal their identities and are not shy about engaging in violent confront

ations with police.

To be clear, these guys are not new on the scene.

They've been something of a staple of French demonstrations for years,

including during the yellow vest movement back in 2018.

Some of the coordinated attacks that we mentioned earlier have certainly

involved the black blocks.

For many of them, the violence they unleashed is itself a form of political

action.

Attacking banks, luxury retailers, and government buildings

is meant to strike a blow at what they see as symbols of capitalism and state

authority,

while violent confrontations with police have viewed as part of a broader

struggle

against the French political system. That's also why the original demands for

better schools

weren't particularly relevant to their involvement.

Even if Macron had magically found the money to address every complaint the

students have raised,

it would have done little to satisfy those on the streets last weekend.

All that said, we'd be remiss if we were to present all of this as political

action.

The line where politics ends and general crime starts is blurry,

but as the chaos unfolded over the weekend, it's clear that a significant

portion of the

writers didn't just cross it, but bounced over it.

The widespread looting frequently targeted shops that were less,

symbols of capitalism, and more place-selling goods that young people would

really, really like

to steal. While police were overwhelmed, and entire commercial districts were

left essentially

undefended, just about anyone who had even the slightest desire to rob a store

seems to have

gone out and done precisely that. All of this complicates the image of this

solely being the responsibility of Melichon and France about.

While his party is hard-left even by European standards, there's no evidence

that they

directly organised the right, nor that they'd be particularly interested in

helping young people

steal expensive trainers. Nor are they the party most likely to benefit from

the current chaos.

Background instead goes to their art rivals, the political reckoning.

Now, for all the discussion online about just how divided, or in some cases

even our

broken frances, there is a certain tragedy at the heart of all of this.

Just before the weekend's violence, 69% of the French supported Saturday's

protests,

or at least some of the economic concerns that they were ostensibly about.

Fast forward a few days, and the country is almost entirely opposed to the

violence

that it just saw, and those protests are now linked with.

Macron, for his part, seems to have found a clever way to wind up on the wrong

side of

both viewpoints. It's hardly new that the French are deeply unhappy with the

direction

their country has headed, whether you ask those on the left or increasingly

even the centre.

Earlier this month, a poll found that just 29% of people who voted for Macron

in the 2022 presidential

run-off still expressed confidence in his ability to tackle the country's

problems.

That collapse has created enormous opportunities for his political opponents,

but one movement in particular has been benefiting from it more than anyone

else.

The far-right national rally led by Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardell.

Both have spent years warning about France's growing problems with crime and

immigration,

at a general sense that the government was unable to enforce the law.

Now they have a concrete set of events that they can point to and say,

"See, we're right all along."

Le Pen accused Macron's governments of having lost complete control,

while Bardella promised that if elected, the national rally would restore order

immediately.

And while being able to deliver on that is certainly questionable,

the narrative that the state has lost control is much harder to dispute.

And that may wind up being the thing that finally lifts Le Pen over the top in

a presidential election.

Ever since her first run at the presidency in 2012,

where she pulled down roughly 17% of the vote and failed to make the second

round,

Le Pen has been steadily building support.

In the 2017 run-off, Macron trounced her, letting two-thirds of the vote.

But by 2022, Le Pen was pulling down over 41%.

And where next year's election is concerned, in which Macron is ineligible to

stand,

Le Pen is currently pulling first.

Now to be clear, French presidential elections feature more than just two

candidates.

So while Le Pen is way ahead of all her rivals,

she's still currently sitting in the low to mid-30s.

The issue for France's center, though, is who's sitting in second place, Jean-

Luc Melanchon.

That means there's a real chance that the 2027 run-off winds up being a contest

between the far right and the far left.

If that happens, Polling suggests that the second round wouldn't be remotely

close.

A recent A-Lab poll had Le Pen beating Melanchon by 69-31%.

That was before these riots.

With scenes of destruction, we've now seen it's highly likely that such a run-

off

would now lead to Melanchon getting utterly stomped by Le Pen.

Of course, it's not guaranteed that Melanchon makes the second round.

In fact, these riots could wind up being a gift to the center,

convincing non-Le Pen voters to coalesce around a single name

to stop the hard left getting anywhere near power.

Should Le Pen face a centrist in the run-off,

the polls are less clear about who might win.

But even then, the riots have handed her ammunition.

While Le Pen has discussed the violence in the context of law and order,

there's been another aspect that many, many others have picked up on.

The role of immigration.

Now, some of this is just the usual suspect sounding off.

In the US, Donald Trump and J.D. Vance gleefully croered about the role of

immigration in France's

riots, conveniently ignoring the equally massive riots taking place at the same

time in Albania,

which were triggered by an allegedly corrupt deal involving Jared Kushner.

No prices for guessing why that story wasn't being promoted by X's algorithm.

However, it wasn't only MAGA Republicans who were banging on the immigration

drum,

but also plenty of Europeans.

Over in Hungary, newly elected Inter-Right Prime Minister Peter Magyar

pointed to France as evidence of why his country refuses to loosen its border

controls,

warning that Europe as a whole was in serious trouble.

Again, this wasn't Viktor Orbin, but his comparatively centre-right pro-Europe

replacement.

Nor was Magyar alone.

Poland's centrist PM Donald Task Wade in saying that his country would neither

repeat nor pay

for the immigration mistakes made in Western Europe.

Now, just how much immigration actually contributed to the violence in France

is

a considerably more complicated question.

The majority of those participating in the riots were indisputably French

themselves,

so the idea that a zero-migration policy would have averted this entirely is a

fever dream.

But it does show quite a bit about how much European politics has shifted.

And while politicians across Europe have been drawing their own conclusions

from the weekend,

back in France, the government still has a much more immediate problem.

The apparent peace that's holding, at least at the time of recording,

is looking very fragile. Even with nearly 2,400 arrests,

authorities have no reliable account of how many people actually participated

in the rioting.

But with 3,000 in La Monge alone, we're looking only at a fraction facing

responsibility.

Even if France does manage to hold the peace, though, it still leaves Macron,

once back from his Middle East trip, facing the exact same problems as before.

And unlike back in 2018, when he was able to throw billions of euros at the

protests

and hope they would subside, any repetition of that strategy today

would be much more challenging.

This is only further complicated by the decentralized nature of the protests

themselves,

at least when it comes to the rioters.

There is no overarching issue or policy, they're setting out to accomplish,

which leaves Macron with nothing to negotiate over.

So that's where we leave Paris today, still reeling from the events of the

weekend,

with an even more uncertain future than before.

And stop it all off, the yellow vests have already announced that they're

planning

another nationwide protest this coming Saturday, October 24th,

quite literally under the banner of Act 2.

You know, just to gauge the first part wasn't exciting enough.

Of course, there's no guarantee that this next round will descend as far as

last weekend,

and it's almost guaranteed that the police will be more ready this time around.

Macron might get through Saturday without another town hall burning down,

which would probably feel like a win at this point,

but with everything else he has working against him right now.

It's hard to see these protests just dying out anytime soon.

It could be that the months before France's next election

are characterized by a growing sense of disorder and chaos.

Thank you for watching.
<!-- aeo:section end="lede" -->