Coming from a head of government, it was an unusually blunt comment. The day after the trade agreement was signed between the European Union (EU) and the United States, François Bayrou called it a “dark day” in a post on X. At the same time as managing to mangle the name of the president of the European Commission, Ursula von der Leyen, the French prime minister bemoaned the “submission” that he claimed the institution had shown during her trip to Scotland on Sunday to shake hands on the deal.
At the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in Paris, where ministers and diplomats had carefully chosen their words and agreed a coordinated response, officials put their heads in their hands when they read the prime minister's words. Yet in essence his remarks neatly summed up how the French executive views the deal approved by the EU leader. “I’m dejected,” wrote one minister on Monday, in tune with the widespread hangover felt throughout the corridors of power in the French capital.
The official line agreed by the Élysée and France’s diplomatic service was more measured. “The good news is that there is an agreement, but this agreement is not balanced,” said the trade minister, Laurent Saint-Martin, on France Inter radio. “Let’s be clear: the current state of things is not good enough,” echoed Benjamin Haddad, the minister for European affairs, on X. Meanwhile, the economy minister, Éric Lombard, told Libération newspaper it was a “lose-lose” agreement.
Enlargement : Illustration 1
Across France's political classes, the deal struck at Turnberry in Scotland drew the same hostile reaction. Even though he belongs to the same European People’s Party (EPP) as von der Leyen, interior minister Bruno Retailleau called it “very bad news for Europe”, a “sign of weakness” by the EU and proof of its “unhealthy dependence on the United States”. The former prime minister Michel Barnier, like Retailleau a member of the rightwing Les Républicains (LR), saw it as an “admission of weakness” by Europe.
Consensus against the deal
The opposition went further still. Though usually generous in her praise for Donald Trump since his re-election, Marine Le Pen, leader of the far-right Rassemblement National (RN), condemned a “political, economic and moral fiasco”, which she said symbolised an “outdated globalisation that denies and shatters the sovereign rights of nations”.
On the Left, Jean-Luc Mélenchon, founder of the radical-left La France Insoumise (LFI), said on X that only his party could truly embody “defiance towards the Empire and a stance of non-alignment”, dismissing other political parties as being “already on their knees”. “Liberalism, free and fair competition, and the other rules in the Lisbon Treaty are a bad joke,” continued the LFI leader, lamenting that “everything [had] been handed over to [Donald] Trump”.
Meanwhile, the leader of the Communist group in the National Assembly, Stéphane Peu, wrote on X of the EU’s “shame” and “capitulation”. MEP Raphaël Glucksmann of the centre-left Place Publique called it a “losing deal”, which he said stemmed from Europe’s “inborn inability” to “wield its own power”. “The weakness of Europe’s political leaders will end up dragging us into the abyss,” wrote the man who headed the Socialist list of candidates at the 2024 European elections.
Beyond the immediate fallout of a deal that is plainly bad for the EU, the Scottish handshake between von der Leyen and Trump points to something even more painful for French diplomacy: how much does Paris’s voice still matter among European nations?
A string of setbacks
When it comes to the Mercosur-EU trade deal with South American countries, France is now in a minority among the 27 EU members. Bitterly opposed to an agreement that has caused alarm within France’s farming community, the executive banged its fist on the table, vowed to fight, and tried to build a “blocking minority”. Yet Ursula von der Leyen, backed by Germany, wrapped the talks up in December 2024. The small concession wrung at the end of June – a safeguard clause for farming – is seen as insufficient by both the farming industry and the government.
The same story holds true for the EU–Israel association agreement. Paris felt the EU Council, made up of the members states, ought to send a strong message after a report by European civil servants listed multiple breaches of the treaty by Israel. French diplomats even floated the idea of light sanctions against Israeli ministers. But seeing that it stood alone, France did not even raise the matter at the Council table and instead aligned itself with the wait-and-see stance of Germany and Italy.
If we shout too loudly, we show we’re powerless; if we smooth things over with a ‘the Commission is right’ approach, we look weak.
The talks on trade tariffs with the US followed a similar pattern. France's Ministry of Foreign Affairs tried to toughen Ursula von der Leyen’s position. “We have to go harder on the retaliatory measures. Trump only understands strength,” Élysée officials said not long ago. Pressure was piling up on the French president Emmanuel Macron from major French industries; luxury goods, wine, aerospace.
Again, Paris's views carried little weight against the German and Italian push for a more Atlantic-friendly line. At the highest levels of the state, the issue is not so much about France's real influence but, more cruelly, about how to put a brave face on things. In other words, how to best hide France’s defeat over the talks.
The writing has been on the wall for weeks when it comes to the tariff row. “It’s been very, very badly handled,” grumbled a source at the foreign ministry in Paris in late June. One minister close to the negotiations summed up the executive’s deadlock like this: “If we shout too loudly, we show we’re powerless; if we smooth things over with a ‘the Commission is right’ approach, we look weak. The truth is, we’re trapped.”
Where has Stéphane Séjourné gone?
For Macron’s camp, the stakes are high. The president has built much of his political standing on his global reach and European leadership. With two years left in his term, this remains his ace card, the ultimate proof, according to supporters, that Emmanuel Macron is not done yet. “If only you could see the standing he has in Europe,” a senior minister confided a few days ago. “Say what you like about domestic affairs, but in Europe, he’s a leader who’s recognised and respected.”
But that narrative is wearing thin under the weight of French diplomacy’s string of defeats. The executive has recently been pondering the reasons for Paris’s loss of clout. The reshuffle at the European Commission in summer 2024 was a turning point in that gradual decline. Back then, Emmanuel Macron agreed to Ursula von der Leyen removing Thierry Breton, the troublesome French commissioner, and replacing him with the president's ally Stéphane Séjourné.
In return, the head of the European institution promised the former French foreign affairs minister a broader and central portfolio, focused on industrial strategy; his formal title is vice-president for Prosperity and Industrial Strategy. On the face of it, she kept her word, but behind the scenes there was another, quieter shift: a shrinking of the French politician's administrative remit and an even tighter grip by the former German minister over the Commission.
A year later, several government sources have reached the same conclusion: by sending a lesser-known and less-respected commissioner to Brussels and letting von der Leyen build the Commission as she saw fit, Emmanuel Macron laid the ground for his own side-lining. Others point to a more natural slide. Even his threats carry less weight when they come from a president who has no parliamentary majority, and who will be replaced in under two years.
The president himself stayed silent until Wednesday, when he then echoed concerns about Europe's weak stance. “Europe does not see itself enough as a power yet. To be free, you have to be feared. We were not feared enough,” Emmanuel Macron told a meeting of ministers. And it is clear that he and his officials at the Élysée still hope that France will have a say in what happens next. “It's not the end of it,” the president told the ministers. Government sources also insisted: “The game’s not over yet.”
Given the widespread backlash to the deal, there is talk of asking the National Assembly to support the French executive's stance. This strategy, already tried over the Mercosur deal at the end of 2024, is not without risk, however. There is a danger that the government’s previous refusal to let parliament have a final say on the free trade treaty between the EU and Canada (CETA) - which came into force despite a majority of parliamentarians opposing it – will then return like a boomerang and hit it smack in the face.
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- The original French version of this article can be found here.
English version by Michael Streeter