France’s newly-appointed Prime Minister and former Minister of Armed Forces Sebastien Lecornu (L) is welcomed by outgoing Prime Minister Francois Bayrou (R) prior to the handover ceremony at the Hotel Matignon in Paris on September 10, 2025.
Ludovic Marin / AFP
Defying all predictions, Emmanuel Macron decided to quickly appoint a new prime minister, Sébastien Lecornu, who had previously served as Minister of the Armed Forces. The stakes were high: with a day of blockades and unrest announced across the country for Wednesday, September 10th, it was essential that the power vacuum last as little time as possible. But by choosing one of his most loyal supporters, Macron is almost certain to upset everyone—and increase the turmoil in the country.
Sébastien Lecornu is a young prime minister—he is not yet forty. He began his political career on the centre-right, in the ranks of the UMP, the party that preceded Les Républicains (LR).
His rallying to Macron in 2017, with his entry into Édouard Philippe’s government, earned him his expulsion from LR—at a time when the right-wing party intended to maintain a strict separation from the presidential camp.
Lecornu was given the demanding portfolio of Minister of the Armed Forces in 2022 in Élisabeth Borne’s government, then retained this position under successive prime ministers: Gabriel Attal, Michel Barnier, and then François Bayrou.
The man was originally firmly rooted on the Right. He received a classical education, leading him from a private school to law school. A Catholic, he was tempted by monastic life, fascinated by the Benedictine brotherhood during a stay at the Abbey of Saint-Wandrille. The grandson of a Gaullist resistance fighter, he was passionate about the army and considered becoming a soldier. To complete the portrait of this young man from a good family, the press emphasises that he loves and practises hunting: he is an ardent defender of traditional hunting and occupies the strategic position of ‘Monsieur Chasse’ in Macron’s entourage, an unofficial and highly strategic post that handles the president’s most private networks. He enjoys cigars and whisky.
Given this background, it was no surprise that he opposed same-sex marriage in 2012, then medically assisted procreation and surrogacy for same-sex couples—before watering down his stance somewhat out of political opportunism. In 2019, he described himself as “Gaullist, Séguinist (i.e., sovereigntist), and fundamentally right-wing.”
This pedigree is enough to make him, in the eyes of the Left, a symbol of Macron’s inevitable ‘shift to the Right.’ Let us remain cautious about this so-called shift. The man is, above all, a pure product of Macronism—that impossible political synthesis which, in its quest to keep the centre, consistently produces perfect ideological inconsistency and an inability to act. Today, it is not the right-wing man he may have been in his spare time that the French identify as the head of government, but one of the men closest to the president. “The most loyal of all” and“Macron’s clone” are the terms used in the press to describe the discreet minister who has made himself indispensable to the president of the republic.
Under these circumstances, the political class’s enthusiasm for his appointment is virtually non-existent—on both the Right and the Left. At a time when the country is mired in a seemingly intractable crisis, when Macronism no longer convinces anyone and the person who embodies it is reaching record levels of unpopularity, there is something provocative about choosing someone so close to the president as head of government. What kind of political break can he possibly achieve?
His roadmap is clear: he must find a way to draw up a budget that will not upset the Left and will be deemed acceptable by the Right. He has promised a “change of method”—the least he can do, even if the formula remains hopelessly vague. Lecornu probably has no illusions about his longevity: “If he’s going to be out in six months, he might as well finish as Prime Minister rather than Minister of the Armed Forces,” said one of his close associates, interviewed by France Info.
Upon the announcement of his appointment, the Socialists, who dreamed of moving into Matignon, made their scathing disapproval known. “Emmanuel Macron is stubbornly pursuing a path that no socialist will participate in,” explained the party’s official statement published on the evening of Tuesday, September 9th. The Rassemblement National also interprets Lecornu’s appointment as a sign of the president’s unreasonable stubbornness: “Emmanuel Macron’s motto: you don’t change a losing team. How could a loyal supporter of the president break with the policy he has been pursuing for eight years?” exclaimed Jordan Bardella, the party’s president, on X.
For the time being, his only asset, albeit a slim one, is that he has a sufficiently low-key personality not to attract any long-lasting hatred towards him. The poor man has a name in French that is very difficult to bear. In colourful, popular language, ‘le cornu’ means either the devil—or a cuckold. We hope for him and for France he’ll be neither of the two.
It is up to him to build his own reputation and step out of the shadows. On the day he takes office, he will be greeted by roadblocks and smoke bombs—directed not against him, but against his boss. It is up to him to try to turn the tide in his favour. Is he capable of doing so? In the current climate, we are allowed to remain reasonably sceptical.
