The program of France’s far-right National Rally (RN) party is circumspect about its plans regarding culture. Yet beyond its nationalist doctrine, channeled through discourse about heritage and the French-speaking world, how else might culture be instrumentalized by the party? By observing over time the municipalities already won by the far right, we can reveal certain orientations of cultural policy, sometimes publicized, sometimes evasive, which have become tinged with populism and censorship.
While op-eds and statements warning of the threat that a far-right government in France would pose to cultural life are multiplying, let us try to gain a clearer understanding of the orientations of the cultural policies proposed by RN. In this area, several sources can be drawn upon to characterize what would constitute the doctrine of RN under the party presidency of Jordan Bardella: electoral programs, mainly from the most recent presidential and European elections; public statements by its representatives; far-right and RN experience in municipal cultural governance since the mid-1990s; and finally, attempts by its officials or supporters to hinder freedom of artistic expression.
Culture in Electoral Programs
Regarding the first aspect, that of electoral programs, the far-right party is not very forthcoming. Heritage and the French-speaking world are favorably mentioned, serving as sectoral translations of the political movement’s identity-based, nationalist, and conservative promises: creating a national heritage service for young people, launching a francophone cultural and economic union, putting in place tax incentives, etc. The other notable programmatic element is the privatization of public broadcasting, which appears, at first glance, to be less accommodating to far-right ideological positions, unlike certain major private media groups in France that serve as powerful echo chambers of the far right. Though public cultural policies were barely addressed by RN in its recent electoral campaigns, culture nevertheless emerges as a central issue through themes such as the “great replacement,” “French identity,” cultural dispossession and insecurity, the religious and historical foundations of society, and cultural and civilizational decline. By re-politicizing cultural topics and culturalizing political ones, RN intends to carry out a “rebalancing” in the cultural sector—feeling little attachment to a legacy of interventions, institutions, and values for which it does not consider itself accountable, particularly in the field of artistic creation.
Culture in Discourse
Even though the public cultural sector may today seem largely neglected in programmatic terms by French far-right parties, their political representatives do not hesitate to stigmatize its practices in support of an overtly anti-elite discourse. One example comes from a 2016 regional election campaign, when Marion Maréchal denounced “the bobos”—that is, bourgeois bohemians, “who pretend to marvel at two red dots on a canvas” and the taxes that fund “the delusions of clearly disturbed minds.” Fabien Engelmann, RN mayor of Hayange (in Moselle), followed suit, promising no longer to “organize bobo cultural evenings for the pleasure of just 60 people.” These are two aggressive examples of cultural populism that go beyond mere denunciation. The ultimate goal is to offer a radical right-wing counterculture in opposition to the supposed cultural monopoly of the left, and more recently, to what is portrayed as a “woke drift.”
Political representatives of the far right do not hesitate to stigmatize the practices of the public cultural sector in support of an overtly anti-elite discourse.
This desire to wage a culture war to change the values and beliefs of French society is not new; it has been a structuring element of far-right networks and the Nouvelle Droite of the 1980s and 1990s. The idea of public support for culture as an ideological and intellectual struggle was even more explicitly stated at that time, through a reinterpretation of Antonio Gramsci’s ideas on cultural hegemony—namely, that the conquest of political power also requires the conquest of cultural power. This political and cultural perspective was intended to be institutionalized in the form of a proactive cultural action strategy. That is the task that the National Front (FN)—as National Rally was called before 2018—and its Institut d’action culturelle, led by Bernard Antony, undertook, particularly through the cultural training of cadres within the far-right party. “Every responsible political movement must reflect on the interaction between politics and culture,” argued this leading figure of traditionalist Catholicism. The first municipalities won by the National Front and its allies would serve as testing grounds.
Culture in Practice
An examination of municipal cultural management by FN/RN mayors (or those elected with their support) reveals two distinct periods in terms of the political handling of cultural issues, and their place in the national agenda to win power. The first started with the municipal breakthroughs of the 1990s, where the far right took control of major cities (Marignane, Orange, Toulon, Vitrolles) with the intention of asserting its distinctiveness, presenting “mayors unlike the others” and “cities governed differently.” This desire to stand out through the exercise of local power did not spare the cultural sector. Quite the contrary, it became a widely publicized symbol both for FN leaders and for their critics. The ways in which these municipalities governed culture were framed as political markers. But their cultural decisions also attracted national media scrutiny and provoked significant mobilization among cultural actors.
The so-called “rebalancing” policies in this field led to numerous scandals. One particularly notable example is the “case” of the municipal library in Orange, which received executive requests to alter its book acquisitions based on the political leanings of the authors. It was by invoking the principle of cultural pluralism that the newly elected mayor justified this injunction for rebalancing (writers closer to FN positions had allegedly been excluded because of the domination of the cultural left). Similar cases in Toulon, Vitrolles, and Marignane were documented by the General Inspectorate of Libraries: refusal to sign purchase orders for disapproved books; establishment of reading committees aligned with the opinions of the municipal majority to bypass librarians; forced acquisitions of publications containing racist, antisemitic, and negationist content; and cancellation of subscriptions to national and regional newspapers, which were replaced by well-known far-right publications (Minute, Rivarol). In Toulon, the Théâtre national de la danse et de l’image de Châteauvallon became a target of Jean-Marie Le Chevallier’s cultural offensives. In Vitrolles, Bruno and Catherine Mégret directly attacked the concert café le Sous-Marin—in retaliation for the “tribal and degenerate” music in its programming—as well as other cultural associations deemed too “cosmopolitan,” just like the Mosaïque cultural center in Orange.1
The recently won cities serve, for the far-right party, as a showcase of normalization to an electorate not yet won over to its cause.
The second period includes municipalities won by the far right in 2014 and 2020, when there was an increased concern with respectability.2 As part of its effort to “de-demonize” itself, FN/RN has sought to position itself as a “party of government.” The aim is therefore not to make too many waves. Its mayors aim less for scandal and, on the contrary, seek to present themselves as trustworthy in managing municipal (cultural) affairs. Continuity in certain partnerships and cultural support is maintained, as in the cases of Perpignan, Beaucaire, and Villers-Cotterêts, although the most disruptive actors in culture and popular education are no longer supported. The recently won cities serve, for the party, as a showcase of normalization to an electorate not yet won over to its cause.
Culture is generally less politically invested in than in the 1990s, deprioritized on municipal political agendas—a second-tier public policy, so to speak. The deputy mayor for culture—when his or her portfolio is not entirely eliminated, as in Bruay-la-Buissière—often holds several other, supposedly more important portfolios, such as commerce or security. But even though the politicization of culture appears less spectacular, a number of orientations, continuing from previous municipal experiences, nevertheless reveal a partisan conception of cultural intervention and a symptomatic way of giving it form through energetic entryism.
A strong emphasis is placed on the “identity cause.” Specifically, the promotion of “French identity,” which is defined in opposition to other cultural identities. The mayor of Hayange attracted attention by organizing a “Festival of the Pig,” a symbol of the French “way of life,” said to be under threat in a town with a significant Muslim population. In general, the new political leaders of RN municipalities seek to promote local traditions, folk customs, and regional products, and to glorify French and regional history. Resistance to the threat of “cultural replacement” takes the form of renewed support for protecting the French-speaking world from ethnocentric or colonial critiques, against “linguistic submission, abandonment, and resignation,” argues the mayor of Hénin-Beaumont.
The link to the Catholic faith and the so-called Christian roots of France is also regularly invoked: nativity scenes installed in municipal buildings or, in Béziers, the celebration of mass before the feria. Finally, the stigmatization of the world of contemporary creation and its audience is accompanied by a desire to satisfy “popular tastes”—in both the sense of mass appeal and a reified representation of the people. To this end, cultural services (re)orient their support toward events considered popular (hip-hop excluded): medieval and Gallic festivals, big-name celebrities, boulevard theater, beauty pageants, lookalike contests, and pétanque festivals. Meanwhile, there is no hesitation in evicting associations and artists’ workshops from municipal buildings: as in Hénin-Beaumont and Fréjus, where the eviction is justified by an explicit message posted on the facade: “here before a slacker, today a worker!” (ici avant un fainéant, aujourd’hui un travailleur!). In Hayange again, the mayor decided to repaint the modern granite sculpture in front of the town hall “swimming-pool blue” without the artist’s consent—“because it’s more cheerful” and “everyone found it hideous”—before eventually removing the statue altogether.
Culture as Censor
Acting in (cultural) politics can mean doing something, doing nothing, or preventing others from doing something. On this last point, far-right movements—in particular, those rooted in traditionalist Catholicism—have been very active. At the very least, opposition to a given cultural event takes the form of a media-orchestrated controversy in the name of offended public opinion. The case of the second edition of Voyage en Hiver in Nantes is revealing of this mechanism. The artworks, multicolored lights, and especially la Petite maman Noël by artist Virginie Barré became the subject of a vehement controversy, launched on CNews by Pascal Praud and Cyril Hanouna, then carried on by local and national far-right political representatives. “The city hall embraces its ‘multicultural’ approach with a ‘feminist Mother Christmas in a tracksuit’ and ‘Mongolian and Afghan cuisine’: this level of hatred toward our traditions belongs in psychiatry!” declared Gilbert Collard, while an RN press release denounced the “woke vision” of Christmas and attack on the foundations of France’s Christian cultural identity and heritage. But beyond the controversies that circulate in the public and political spheres, the Observatoire de la liberté de création methodically documents and investigates the growing number of acts of vandalism against artworks and disruptions of performances by far-right groups: cancellations of concerts scheduled in churches (Eddy de Pretto, Anna von Hausswolff, Kali Malone) or nearby (a DJ set on the roof of the Basilica of Notre-Dame de Fourvière in Lyon), disruptions of children’s performances in libraries (Saint-Senoux), threats against festivals (Saint Rock in La Clayette), or intentional damage to contemporary artworks (Piss Christ by Andres Serrano, Fuck Abstraction by Miriam Cahn).
In this context, the Senate’s fact-finding mission on evaluating the “creation” component of the Law on Freedom of Creation, Architecture, and Heritage (LCAP) is particularly timely. It will help assess the potential effects of structural censorship (when a public body stops supporting certain cultural and artistic domains to limit their presence out of conviction or caution) and self-censorship (when one restricts oneself in programming or creation choices). It will also provide an opportunity to examine the legislative value and legal (not just symbolic) effects of Article 1 of the law: “artistic creation is free.” This is a question more crucial than ever in light of the current “great confusion”—the trend of a broad spectrum of political discourse and behavior aligning with ultraconservative positions.
Vincent Guillon is co-director of the Observatory of Cultural Policies and Associate Professor at Sciences Po Grenoble.
- C. Bodet-Dockes, Politique publique et structuration de l’espace politique. L’exemple de l’action culturelle du Front national à Orange, Institut d’études politiques de Lyon, DEA de science politique, 1997. ↩︎
- We have focused here more specifically on the municipalities of Beaucaire, Béziers, Bruay-la-Buissière, Fréjus, Hayange, Hénin-Beaumont, Moissac, Perpignan, and Villers-Cotterêts. ↩︎
