France Unbowed, Capital Unchallenged

A critique of La France Insoumise

La France Insoumise (France Unbowed, henceforth LFI) was founded in February 2016 as an umbrella grouping of left-wing forces situated to the left of the mainstream Socialist Party, with the aim of supporting Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s campaign for the 2017 presidential election.

The group’s main programmatic document is the so-called L’Avenir en commun (“A Shared Future”). It was drafted in 2016 in the run-up to the 2017 French presidential election. Loosely based on the equally reformist Left Front’s 2012 presidential campaign programme, it was later revised in the ensuing years while maintaining the spirit and core planks of the 2016 text.

The programme does have its merits. The section addressing the current democratic deficit, the oligarchic nature of the existing political system, and the related notion of the Fifth Republic’s “presidential monarchy” is one of its strongest points. However, the programme does not go to great lengths in devising a comprehensive alternative, aside from proposing the convocation of a constituent assembly and the introduction of proportional representation, etc.

The remaining sections of the programme are somewhat problematic when read in light of Mélenchon’s avowed strategic goal of transcending capitalism, typified by the now-familiar slogan of “eco-socialism.” First, most of the economic measures proposed differ very little from the tried-and-failed national Keynesian reformist programme traditionally associated with the “social-democratic” left. This is a far cry from any genuinely ecological or post-capitalist alternative.

Second, the main message of the programme pits the “people” against the so-called “elite,” dividing the great mass of the population into two opposing and irreconcilable camps, while lumping together different groups and classes that have very little in common. This has raised concerns about the movement purported “populism” and its heavy reliance on this rhetorical binary framework.

Third, the overall tone of the programme, and of the LFI movement as a whole, is overly nationalistic, casting serious doubt on its internationalist credentials.

In what follows, I provide a critical analysis of LFI’s programme, focusing on its reformism, populism, and nationalism.

Eco-Socialism or National Keynesianism?

It is common today to present LFI as a far-left group. In fact, this is a central tenet of mainstream ideology in France. In truth, however, this is an utterly absurd claim, as is the broader centrist and right-wing fear-mongering anti-LFI campaign, which ranges from attempts to vilify Mélenchon personally and tarnish his reputation to outright suspicions that he intends to transform the country into a Soviet-style authoritarian state with a command economy, modeled after the dictatorial regimes of his so-called “friends”—Chavez, Putin, and company.

This absurdity stems from the vast distance that separates LFI’s programme from any genuine post-capitalist alternative, let alone an authoritarian command economy.

As it stands, LFI advocates the old “social-democratic” programme of reforms, as will become clear from the discussion that follows. To illustrate this point, I would like to quote Philippe Marlière, who writes extensively on LFI and the French left:

“[Mélenchon’s] economic program has not much changed qualitatively since 2012 (Mélenchon 2016c). It is not anti-capitalist or radically leftist. It essentially promotes a radical Keynesian approach (Dusseaulx 2016) with a far greater emphasis on ecological questions than in the past. He wants to abolish the reform of the Labour Code which was carried out by the socialist government, and he opposes the Transatlantic Trade and Investment Partnership (TTIP) with the United States and the Comprehensive Economic and Trade Agreement (CETA) with Canada.” ^I

In short, LFI adheres to the traditional National-Keynesian programme, with an added emphasis on urgent ecological issues, a somewhat caricatured version of the much-vaunted “Eco-Socialism.”

LFI’s programme does show some awareness of the limits of national Keynesianism under supranational constraints. In particular, it outlines a dual strategy: Plan A relies on negotiating a reformed European Union more favorable to social and ecological policies, while Plan B contemplates exiting the EU entirely if such negotiations fail. This demonstrates that LFI is not entirely blind to the structural limits imposed by Europe. Yet the programme largely overlooks the broader reality of a globalized, deregulated world economy, where capital can move freely across borders and evade state control, arguably a far more decisive constraint than the EU itself.

LFI proposes a sweeping set of reforms: significant increases in the minimum wage and pensions, expansion of public services and healthcare, massive hiring in the public sector, ambitious ecological investments, stronger state regulation of strategic sectors and essential goods, and opposition to free-trade agreements such as TTIP and CETA. These measures, while socially and ecologically appealing, are outlined in broad terms and often lack concrete mechanisms for implementation, particularly in the face of international capital mobility, financial markets, and corporate resistance.

As a result, the programme can appear optimistic to the point of implausibility, leaving voters unsure how such policies would be financed or enforced in practice. This tension between grand promises and practical feasibility risks undermining the credibility of LFI, making it resemble yet another reformist party rather than a genuine post-capitalist alternative, despite its rhetoric of systemic change. The emphasis on social justice and ecology, while important, remains largely reformist in scope and does not confront the structural limitations of global capitalism that ultimately constrain any interventions that undermine the dynamics of capital accumulation.

It has been pointed out by many opponents of LFI, and rightly so, that the implementation of its programme would risk undermining whatever competitive edge France still holds within Europe. Higher corporate taxes would likely trigger a massive wave of capital flight, as investment in France would become far less attractive, illustrating the structural limits of an ambitious Keynesian programme in an open economy. An explosive rise in inflation is certainly to be expected. In fact, both inflation and capital flight were already a major challenge that kept the early Mitterrand government in the 1980s constantly on edge. When it comes to inflation, the culprit was not merely increased government spending, but also the rise in consumption of the working class, who had larger wages to spend. This surge in demand contributed to tipping the balance of trade toward a deficit, as many consumer goods were imported from abroad.

This would inevitably lead, in the long run, to a rollback of most of LFI’s measures in order to appease the dictates of capital accumulation. In other words, an LFI-led state would be compelled to attract businesses back, since it depends primarily on capital to finance its institutions and to ensure the payment of workers’ wages in the private sector. In such a scenario wage freezes would be imposed and corporate taxes lowered.

As it happens, this is precisely what occurred after 1983 during the Mitterrand era. As I have already mentioned in my previous article on the French left, Mélenchon is an avid and staunch supporter of François Mitterrand’s presidency. There is no record of him ever having drawn up a balance sheet of that experience or assimilated its lessons, beyond the traditional denunciation of the European Community, which is presented as the main culprit behind the betrayal of French social democracy in the 1980s.

In sum, the programme’s sweeping reforms: higher wages, expanded pensions, large-scale public hiring, ecological planning, and the re-regulation of strategic sectors remain difficult to reconcile with the structural constraints of a highly globalised and financialised economy. Even with detailed costing efforts by LFI’s own economists, the fundamental issue is not accounting but feasibility: such reforms presuppose a degree of national economic autonomy that no longer exists. Without mechanisms capable of confronting capital mobility, international market pressures, and the disciplinary power of global finance, these proposals risk colliding with forces that no national government, left-wing or otherwise, can easily override, if the globalized capitalist system is left untouched.

LFI’s programmatic ambiguities and paradoxes, as well as their likely economic failure once in power, highlights a broader reality: in today’s world, the only version of capitalism capable of surviving is the globalized and financialized neoliberal model. Any attempt to impose a heavily regulated or interventionist alternative, however well-intentioned, is likely to face structural constraints that make it unsustainable. LFI’s efforts, while socially and ecologically motivated, therefore risk being largely in vain. Rather than channeling energy into reformist Keynesian experiments, the left would be better served by pursuing a systemic transformation of the economy on a global scale toward cooperative and democratic ownership and management of production so that the working class can exercise genuine control over the conditions of its life.

The retreat from class

Among centrist and liberal critics of the LFI phenomenon, populism is often emphasized, and at times the purported “authoritarianism” of Mélenchon and other leaders is highlighted, particularly by ideologically motivated or politically charged commentators. As many scholars have noted, the application of the term is largely negative and pejorative. But what is the truth of the matter?

Philippe Marlière, for instance, writes in Jean-Luc Mélenchon and France Insoumise: The Manufacturing of Populism that LFI’s discourse does indeed frame politics through the lens of two broad categories: “the people” versus “the elite” ^{II III}. This dualistic structure is central to populist discourse, especially as a political strategy, but it also signals a notable retreat from traditional class-based discourse in left-wing politics.

However, others have argued that populism is not merely a strategy but an ideology, albeit a “thin-centred” and “chameleonic” one (Mudde 2004; Marlière 2014). The first camp sees it as nothing more than a political technique that divides the field into two antagonistic camps, while the second insists that it carries its own minimal ideological content. Crucially, the notion of “the people” is highly malleable and susceptible to all kinds of discursive construction and political manipulation; it is shaped less by sociological reality than by the rhetoric of the political actor. Mélenchon, for his part, does not shy away from the populist label: he embraces it openly.

As Philippe Marlière has convincingly argued, Mélenchon’s embrace of populism marks a decisive ideological shift away from class-based politics. In L’Ère du Peuple, Mélenchon theorises a new central cleavage opposing “the people” to an “oligarchy,” thereby displacing any interpretation of social conflict grounded in class struggle. As Marlière notes, Mélenchon “stops referring to the notion of class struggles altogether,” ^IV a move that represents a major break with Marxist theory and with the traditional categories of left-wing politics. Rather than confronting the problem of a politically and culturally fragmented proletariat, Mélenchon proposes to rally “the people” beyond class, race, and gender divisions, redefining the political subject in deliberately broad and inclusive terms. In this framework, class ceases to function as a structuring principle of political analysis and is replaced, in a truly populist fashion, by an abstract and malleable notion of “the people.” Concepts such as the “citizens’ revolution” thus function not merely as rhetorical devices, but as substitutes for class politics, signaling a substantive retreat from the traditional left’s emphasis on class organisation as the basis of political action.

Mélenchon’s strategic and rhetorical turn toward populism reflects the influence of post-Marxist theorists Ernesto Laclau and Chantal Mouffe, whose work on constructing political identities around oppositions such as “the people” versus “the elite” resonates with LFI’s discourse. Laclau and Mouffe reject the Marxist idea that class struggle is the primary political antagonism, arguing instead for a politics of radical democracy in which disparate social demands are united into a collective “people.” Mélenchon first encountered their ideas at a conference in Argentina in 2013, and he has maintained a close intellectual relationship with Mouffe ever since, often appearing alongside her at rallies and public events. This theoretical orientation also helps explain LFI’s broader international network: Mélenchon has established ties with Podemos leaders such as Pablo Iglesias, and was associated in earlier years with figures like Alexis Tsipras of Syriza. He was also close to Hugo Chávez in Venezuela, reflecting a shared emphasis on anti-elite, anti-neoliberal rhetoric and a populist style of mobilisation.

This retreat from class politics is closely tied to a transformation in political style and communication. Mélenchon has clearly taken stock of the declining influence of traditional media and has adapted his strategy accordingly. His political practice places a strong emphasis on image, symbolism, and direct address, down to carefully calibrated details such as clothing choices meant to signal proximity to “ordinary citizens.” These elements are not incidental, but form part of a deliberate attempt to construct a populist identification between a charismatic leader and “the people,” bypassing intermediary organisations such as parties, unions, or class-based movements ^V.

This evolution is further reinforced by the increasing professionalisation of Mélenchon’s political activity. His reliance on public-relations consultants, his fondness for media stunts—such as addressing multiple rallies simultaneously via hologram—and his mastery of new communication technologies all point to a model of leadership centred on personal authority and media performance. In this sense, Mélenchon appears less as the spokesperson of a collective social force than as a highly professionalised political entrepreneur, operating within a personalised and plebiscitary framework. Far from compensating for the retreat from class politics, this style arguably deepens it, substituting organisational rootedness and collective agency with spectacle, identification, and leader-centric mobilisation ^VI.

The search for a “revolutionary subject” does not constitute a political blunder per se. If anything, the expansion and redefinition of notions such as the “working class” or the “revolutionary class” is an indispensable process in the life of left-wing parties, responding to the continual evolution of the political landscape and to the profound transformations that occur within every social formation. This has been repeatedly attempted in the past: Lenin’s and Mao’s inclusion of the peasantry within the ranks of the “revolutionary class ^VII,” as well as the New Left’s flirtation with the student movement in the 1960s, are all examples of this process. No longer can we talk about the “industrial proletariat” as it existed during Marx’s time. However, LFI’s obsession with “the people”, besides its populist pitfalls, carries certain undesirable nationalist overtones, which will be addressed in the following section.

France unbowed?

The link between making “the people” the subject of history, to use Mélenchon’s exact formulation, and the adoption of explicitly nationalist positions is not immediately apparent. The difficulty arises, however, when one attempts to define what is meant by “the people.” In Mélenchon’s framework, the term clearly refers to the French people. But what, exactly, makes someone French?

For Mélenchon, French identity is conceived as an open identity. Anyone can become French regardless of the colour of their skin or their origin. French men and women are not really the descendants of the Gauls, but rather of the sans-culottes who abolished the monarchy and feudal privileges, established the Republic, and instituted legal equality ^VIII. Sharing the values of the French Revolution, rather than ethnic or cultural origin, is what defines French citizenship.

At first glance, this civic and republican form of nationalism appears benign and even progressive. Yet LFI’s Nationalism unfortunately doesn’t stop there. Although it stands at the opposite end of the political spectrum from the Rassemblement National’s ethnic nationalism, which openly traffics in racism and notions of European superiority, LFI has nonetheless repeatedly defaulted in the past to traditional “bourgeois” nationalism.

To begin with, the organisation’s very name carries strong nationalist connotations. “La France Insoumise”, literally “France Unbowed”, came as a surprise to many on the left, given its overt national framing. In an effort to appeal to the patriotic sensibilities of the average French voter, Mélenchon also broke with long-standing left-wing traditions by banning red flags from his rallies and abandoning the singing of The Internationale at the close of public meetings ^IX. These symbols, reports Marlière, “were replaced by tricolour flags and La Marseillaise. This raised a few eyebrows on the left as the French national flag and the national anthem have been the emblem of the right and far right for a long time. Left-wing symbols which are deeply ingrained in the culture of the French left were deemed too divisive or simply meaningless to the mass of the people FI wished to connect with.” ^X

Finally, LFI and Mélenchon’s nationalism takes a geopolitical turn. For instance, their insistence on withdrawing from NATO stems from a deep desire for France to be able to “better defend itself” as an independent power ^XI. Mélenchon also seeks to strengthen the capacities of the French military, while supporting the maintenance and even enhancement of France’s nuclear weapons, positions that sit uneasily with his professed “eco-socialist” rhetoric.

Taken together, these three dimensions: national Keynesian revivalism recast as “eco-socialism,” populism as a retreat from class analysis, and an increasingly explicit nationalism, define both the appeal and the limits of LFI. What presents itself as a radical break with the neoliberal order ultimately remains confined within the horizons of a reformed national capitalism, a depoliticised notion of “the people,” and a revalorisation of the nation-state as the privileged site of political agency. Rather than opening a path toward a genuinely post-capitalist alternative, LFI’s project reassembles familiar elements of the French left’s past, offering a powerful critique of the present without a convincing strategy for transcending it.

2 March 2026.

We apologise to Mohamed Alsibai for the delay in publishing this article.

1. Philippe Marlière: ‘Jean-Luc Mélenchon and France Insoumise: The Manufacturing of Populism’, in Giorgos Katsambekis, Alexandros Kioupkiolis (eds), The Populist Radical Left in Europe, London, Routledge, 2018.
   P.14.[↩]
2. Ibid. p.14.[↩]
3. Margaret Conovan makes a similar point in Populism, London, Junction Books Ltd, 1981, p. 8-9.[↩]
4. Philippe Marlière: ‘Jean-Luc Mélenchon and France Insoumise: The Manufacturing of Populism’, in Giorgos Katsambekis, Alexandros Kioupkiolis (eds), The Populist Radical Left in Europe, London, Routledge, 2018.P.9[↩]
5. Ibid. p.14.[↩]
6. Ibid. p.14.[↩]
7. In Russia, as it was the case with Lenin, and in China (and the Third World in general), as it was the case for Mao.[↩]
8. François Debras, Chacun son Peuple et la République sera bien gardée, La Revue Nouvelle, n°5, 2018, pp.75-86 and MÉLENCHON JEAN-Luc, Discours sur l’abolition de l’esclavage à Champagney le 4 février 2017, https://lafranceinsoumise.fr[↩]
9. See Philippe Marlière: ‘Jean-Luc Mélenchon and France Insoumise: The Manufacturing of Populism’, in Giorgos Katsambekis, Alexandros Kioupkiolis (eds), The Populist Radical Left in Europe, London, Routledge, 2018. P.9.[↩]
10. Ibid.[↩]
11. Ibid. p.17.[↩]