Thu, Mar 26, 2026 page7

• Ostracizing France’s radical left groups is a failed strategy

  • By Rokhaya Diallo / The Guardian
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  As the results of the French local elections sink in, it is useful to reflect on the shifting moral boundaries in public debate that characterized the campaign. In the weeks leading up to the first round of voting on March 15, criticism directed at the radical-left party France Unbowed (LFI) and its confrontational leader, Jean-Luc Melenchon, reached new levels of intensity. Melenchon had become, it seemed, the undisputed “bad guy” of French political life.

  Yet, for the first time in its history, the radical left now has control of several cities — including Saint-Denis, the second-largest municipality in the Paris region and after the run-offs, Roubaix, one of France’s poorest cities, previously controlled by the right.

  The campaign was inflamed by a specific event — the killing in Lyon last month of a 23-year-old far-right activist. Quentin Deranque’s violent death sent political shock waves nationally, with LFI’s leadership, and Melenchon in particular, attacked from across the spectrum. Deranque was severely beaten up during violent clashes between far-right supporters and an anti-fascist group called La Jeune Garde. The confrontation coincided with a protest over a conference hosted in the city by Member of the European Parliament Rima Hassan of LFI. Deranque sustained brain injuries and died in hospital two days later.

  In the weeks since, a broad consensus formed against LFI, a political movement that, over the past decade, has established itself as the driving force of the French left. There were alleged links between some of the suspects in Deranque’s death and activist circles associated with LFI member of French parliament Raphael Arnault, founder of La Jeune Garde. The refusal of senior LFI figures, in particularly Melenchon, explicitly to condemn La Jeune Garde prompted a fraught debate over political violence and accountability.

  ‘EPSTEIN JOKE’

  Yet, accusations of political violence against LFI long predate the tragedy in Lyon. For years, critics have argued that the movement has contributed to a “brutalization” of French political life with its abrasive rhetoric, populist polarization, and repeated tensions with media and institutions. Allegations of anti-Semitism have also plagued the party and Melenchon himself.

  While much of the criticism is undoubtedly linked to LFI’s support for the rights of the Palestinian people, some of it is based on statements that are genuinely problematic. As the controversy surrounding the Deranque tragedy was at its peak, Melenchon used a campaign rally, also in Lyon, to make a tasteless joke about the pronunciation of Jeffrey Epstein’s name, sarcastically apologizing for not referring to the sexual predator as “Eps-tine,” adding that it “sounds more Russian,” before extending the joke to “Ein-stine” and “Franken-stine.” The subtext for many was to imply that the French media had avoided mentioning Epstein’s Jewishness and links to the Israeli government.

  In a country where thousands of Jews were forced to go into hiding and adopt false identities, including assumed names, to escape deportation during the Holocaust — and where many survivors later chose to retain or formalize less-identifiable names after the war — such talk not only reactivates historical trauma, but echoes a well-documented anti-Semitic trope that fixates on the supposedly “Jewish-sounding” names. No left-wing political leader who claims to uphold a strong anti-racist agenda should be making jokes of this kind.

  As a result of his provocation, leading figures in the Socialist party accused the LFI leader of “intolerable anti-Semitism.” The mainstream left adopted a policy of rejecting tactical alliances with the “extremist” LFI going into many town hall races, including Paris. Socialist candidates who did team up with the LFI, for example in Limoges and Toulouse, were punished, which suggests that for many voters on the moderate left, the LFI is radioactive.

  However, what is curious to me is that so much of the outcry was driven by Marine Le Pen’s far-right National Rally (RN), as though its members were all themselves beyond reproach when it comes to anti-Semitism.

  RN’s political lineage can be traced back to 1972 when Jean-Marie Le Pen cofounded the National Front (FN), some of whose early supporters had ties to Nazi collaborationist networks. Over the years, multiple cases have come to light of RN candidates or associates being exposed for anti-Semitic, Holocaust-denying or neo-Nazi statements. The RN leadership’s claims to have expelled any “bad apples” as part of its detoxification strategy is unconvincing.

  Yes, anti-Semitism exists within LFI as it does across French society, and it might well be time for the party to be led by a new generation. However, the political landscape cannot redefine itself by casting LFI as the toxicity in French politics while at the same time allowing the RN to become normalized.

  EXCLUSION OF LFI

  Deranque’s death was a moment of intense political shock. The French National Assembly held a minute’s silence in Deranque’s honor — a gesture that is not systematically extended to victims of political violence, particularly when the perpetrators are on the far right. The list of deadly attacks linked to people from ultranationalist circles is long. Deranque’s own far-right, neo-Nazi and anti-Semitic sympathies were revealed after his death: His online activity contained explicitly neo-Nazi rhetoric, including expressions of admiration for Adolf Hitler.

  However, in the wake of the “Epstein joke” controversy anti-LFI rhetoric from all sides escalated to fever-pitch. French government spokeswoman Maud Bregeon urged voters to “take responsibility” by denying LFI any support at the ballot box. French Minister Delegate for Equality between Women and Men and for the Fight against Discriminations Aurore Berge went further, claiming that “anti-Semitism in France was spelled L-F-I.”

  Such statements reflected a desire to frame voting for LFI in the local elections as morally culpable; to position the party as beyond the pale, outside of the republican consensus.

  Some far-right figures and parts of the political right have even called for a cordon sanitaire against LFI — a concept historically used to isolate the far right itself — revealing a profound inversion whereby the once-taboo party is now increasingly normalized and respectable, while its most vociferous opponents are portrayed as so extreme as to require ostracization from the democratic process.

  However, the lesson from the local elections is that years of marginalizing LFI has failed as a strategy. It has not prevented the movement from establishing and keeping a solid electoral foothold — and might even have contributed to consolidating its very dynamic voter base. This has allowed it to gain more cities and to be elected to more councils than it has ever previously been. However, there is also now a clearer demarcation between the two lefts; they seem more incompatible.

  Melenchon, a towering, but polarizing figure whose unacceptable statements repeatedly make him an easy target, nonetheless leads a party that is the embodiment for its supporters of a deeply anti-fascist and anti-racist political tradition. This continues to resonate with a younger electorate strongly attached to those values.

  Rokhaya Diallo is a French journalist, writer, filmmaker and activist.
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