It was raining in Calais on election day. A thin, penetrating, miserable drizzle blowing in off the Channel that was entirely in keeping with the mood of a great many voters as they headed to the polls in France’s most momentous ballot in living memory.
“It’s all going to shit,” said Xavier Hembert, voting with his son Arthur on the rue Philippine de Hainaut, named after Edward III of England’s French-born wife, much loved here ever since she persuaded him not to decapitate the port’s Burghers in 1347.
“No one’s happy, we’re going round in circles. It feels like we’ve tried everything and now we’re lost. But people are right not to be happy. They vote, then nothing changes. So now we’re going to get the extremes. Whereas you’re coming to your senses.”
Twenty-four hours later and 30 miles away, Sue King, in Dover, was unconvinced. “I’m fed up with them everywhere,” she said outside a charity shop on a (briefly sunny) Biggin Street. “I’m annoyed and frustrated. They’re the same – in America, France, here.”
Politicians spent their time “slagging each other off”, King said. “They don’t tell us the truth. Promise they can wave a magic wand and fix it all.” A staunch Conservative, she will vote Green this time. “The planet. Something that really matters,” she said.
France and the UK – close neighbours, historic rivals, impossible friends – vote this week in elections likely to confirm a tidal wave of discontent against governments led by smartly dressed forty-something men overwhelmingly perceived as toxic and out of touch.
There, though, the similarities may seem to end. In France, Emmanuel Macron saw his centrist coalition relegated to a distant third place in a first round won convincingly by the far-right, anti-immigrant National Rally (RN) of Marine Le Pen. A left-green alliance dominated by the radical insurrectionists of France Unbowed (LFI) came second, and the only real question left for Sunday’s second round is the size of the far right’s majority and whether it will be relative or absolute.
In the UK, a moderate Labour party led by an earnest if uncharismatic lawyer is on track for a crushing victory that should topple Rishi Sunak’s government after 14 years of tumultuous and increasingly radical Conservative rule defined by Brexit and its aftermath.
“It’s very hard not to conclude,” said Mujtaba Rahman, an analyst with Eurasia Group, “that just as the UK is emerging from politically dysfunctional chaos, with a strong government and coherent leadership, France is about to leap headfirst into its own.”
Clément Beaune, a former Macron minister, warned this week that the far right in power would be “dramatic, not for the president or his party but for all the French. As our British friends turn the page on nationalist demagogy, let’s not go there ourselves.”
But regardless of the elections’ radically different likely outcomes, a cross-Channel hop found voters on both sides expressing remarkably similar concerns.
“Both votes are being driven more by anger and resentment than actually for something,” said Philippe Marlière, a professor of French and European politics at University College London. “The vote in France is overwhelmingly anti-Macron. Yes, there’s that fear of status loss, of worry for the future, that makes immigration a big issue – often via housing, healthcare, education – in both countries. But look, in France it’s about seven years of Macron. In the UK, it’s about 14 years of the Tories.”
In Calais, where many locals regularly encounter some of the ugliest consequences of Europe’s unresolved migration crisis, and a sitting centre-right MP, Pierre-Henri Dumont, is trailing behind his far-right challenger Marc de Fleurian after the first round, voters of all persuasions concurred.
“So many of us are just fed up,” said Nolwenn Le Berre, a port office worker voting for the leftist alliance New Popular Front (NFP). “This government has had it. It’s been about doing things that help the wealthy. People want real, demonstrable solidarity.”
Mickael Bouchard, 42, was voting RN, for similar reasons. “I’ve had enough of politicians who say the same things then do nothing,” he said. “We’ve tried everyone else: the right with [Nicolas] Sarkozy, the left with [François] Hollande, the centre with Macron.”
Even on two salaries, Bouchard said, he and his wife were in trouble. “Everything’s gone up. Everything.” By most measures France’s economy is faring relatively well, but Macron’s pro-business policies and autocratic style have played disastrously here.
“There’s just so much to be fed up about,” Bouchard said, listing Macron’s changes to the retirement age and unemployment benefit, as well as the rising price of diesel and electricity, a lack of doctors, shuttered shops. Plus, he stressed, “insecurity. Of course immigration’s a big problem.”
Yann, 28, a docker and unionist, summed it up. “A damn good kicking, so maybe things will finally move,” he said. “Stopping this endless coming and going of parties that couldn’t care less about working people. These arrogant bloody … politicians.”
Vincent Boulanger, 43, a production manager and loyal centre-right voter, said he had spoiled his ballot. “I voted, but for the right to vote,” he said. “But I can’t bring myself to vote for any of them. They won’t listen. France’s politics are in real, deep crisis.”
Dominique, 46, said: “My feeling is just one of sadness. I voted left, without conviction. But I think we’re headed far right. That’s populism, nationalism, lies. I’m a customs agent, I see many Brits. You know well where all that leads.”
Many others said the same. On the ferry to Dover, tucking into a £10 breakfast box of sausage, bacon and beans and giving every appearance of appreciating it, Manfred Bär, 63, part of an affable tour group of German senior citizens, made a joke.
“So, we are going from France to Britain,” he beamed. “For once we can say that we are jumping out of the frying pan, but not also into the fire, can we not?”
But across the Channel, in one of the most deprived towns in Kent, sentiments felt strikingly similar to those in Calais. “Things need to change,” said Anik, a taxi driver. “Look around. Dover is going down. We used to have a lot of tourists, now very few. The politicians haven’t helped, have they?”
Behind the counter of her gift shop, Lakmir Kaur agreed. “I’ve been here 11 years and I’m not interested in politics,” she said. “But people are very unhappy. Before Brexit, before lockdown, it was busy. Lots of people came. And people were happy.”
Dover, where Labour’s candidate, military veteran Mike Tapp, is hoping to overturn the 13,000 majority won by the controversial former Conservative MP – and Labour defector – Natalie Elphicke in 2019, handles more than 70% of the UK’s overseas goods trade but sees precious little of the benefit. It has also witnessed the arrival of many of the 120,000-plus people who have crossed the Channel in small boats since 2018.
Zen Pullen, dressed in pink in her wheelchair, said she had not yet made up her mind who to vote for but it would not be the Conservatives. “They’ve knocked people like me,” she said. “Offering vouchers instead of money. So many families in poverty.”
Sitting outside the Prince Albert, Alfie Gardner said he would not be voting. “No point,” he said. “They sent me the papers but I never bothered. If Labour get in they’ll only be there 18 months. They haven’t got the wherewithal to fix this mess, no one has.”
In the bed store he owns and runs, Chris Getliffe, 50, a Conservative voter in recent elections, said his choice would be motivated by “a complete lack of trust in the government we have, and the simple fact I’m fed up with being lied to”.
He hoped Labour might make some difference but felt it would be an uphill battle. “I have a young family and getting a doctor’s appointment’s impossible,” Getliffe said. “The lack of investment’s so obvious, everywhere you look; I’ve never known the roads so bad. But the country’s in so much debt now.”
On Dover beach, Diane, 71, was sitting sunning herself after an early afternoon swim with a friend. She, too, was a Conservative voter of many years standing, but not this time. “I’ve already voted, a postal vote. It was for Nigel Farage,” she said, referring to the Brexit figurehead who is running for election in Clacton as leader of the Reform party.
“He speaks his mind and he says what a lot of us feel,” said Diane, who preferred not to give her surname. “We’re a small island, people are falling off the edges. The schools can’t cope, nor the NHS. He won’t get many seats. But it’s how I feel.”
Waiting at Dover Priory station for a (twice-delayed) train to London Victoria, Stephanie Yates, 46, a beautician, said politicians needed to “stop acting, stop playing stupid games with each other, stop making promises they can’t keep. Just tell it to us like it is. And, please, fix the stuff that matters to us.”
She could have been in Calais.
