The sentence seems innocuous, almost colloquial. “We must not hassle the French” — we must not burden the French any further. It was Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu who said this during the presentation of new aid measures against rising energy prices following the escalation in the Middle East. But it is precisely in its demonstrative simplicity that this sentence reveals a remarkable political shift in France.
Because Paris is clearly starting to prepare the population not for a temporary crisis, but for a permanent state of exception.
The French government now speaks with a sobriety about geopolitical risks that would have been unusual a few years ago. Lecornu openly stated that the conflict in the Middle East “will last in one form or another.” Even under favorable conditions, some stabilization of the situation is only expected in autumn. At the same time, the government warns about scenarios that until now have mostly been discussed within security think tanks: attacks on oil infrastructure, interruptions of maritime trade routes, possible blockades of the Strait of Hormuz or Bab al-Mandab.
This fundamentally changes the political tone in France. The government no longer seeks to rhetorically conceal uncertainty. It increasingly integrates it into institutional communication.
The new language of permanent crisis
The true meaning of Lecornu’s statement lies less in its content than in its political subtext.
“Not bothering the French” in this context means not only a social consideration. It is the implicit recognition of a political vulnerability: the French state knows how quickly economic pressure can turn into open revolt.
The memory of the Yellow Vest protests in 2018 is central in this regard. Few other events have shaken the French elite so much. The movement was initially triggered by a relatively limited increase in the fuel tax. But within weeks, it escalated into a national wave of protest against the loss of purchasing power, social inequalities, and the technocratic leadership perceived as arrogant under Emmanuel Macron.
Since then, a strategic doctrine has been established at the Élysée Palace: energy prices are no longer a purely economic issue. It is a matter of internal stability.
That is exactly why Lecornu refuses a general reduction in fuel taxes. Such measures would be popular in the short term, but difficult to control fiscally in the long term. The government is instead betting on targeted compensations for particularly exposed groups: commuters, healthcare workers, farmers, taxi companies, or logistics businesses.
It is politically very revealing. The French state no longer seeks to fully cushion crises. Rather, it aims to limit their social explosive potential.
France discovers the logic of crisis economy
A deeper transformation of the French state philosophy is manifesting here.
For decades, the French social model was based on an implicit promise: the state protects the population from the harsh realities of global markets. Whether it was financial crisis, pandemic, or energy price shock — Paris traditionally responded with massive interventions, price caps, subsidies, or public debt.
During the energy crisis caused by the Russian attack on Ukraine, this logic reached a provisional peak. France administratively capped electricity and gas prices and absorbed costs of several billion euros through the public budget. Public debt continued to grow; it now clearly exceeds 110% of GDP.
But the room to maneuver is shrinking. The combination of high interest rates, low growth, increasing defense spending, and structural deficits forces Paris to make ever more frequent trade-offs. The government can no longer completely neutralize every crisis.
That is why a new form of French crisis policy is now emerging: selective relief rather than universal protection.
This evolution is not limited to France. A similar trend can be observed throughout Europe. States are seeking to administratively manage permanent burdens rather than fully compensate them. But in France, this strategy has a sharp political particularity, as social expectations towards the state are traditionally higher than in many other European countries.
Geopolitical realism makes a comeback
It is also remarkable to note the new frankness with which representatives of the French government address geopolitical risks.
Just a few years ago, the dominant idea in Europe was that global economic integration ultimately acts as a stabilizing factor. Energy was primarily seen as a market issue, not as a geopolitical vulnerability. This assumption collapsed with the war in Ukraine.
Now, the conflict in the Middle East is once again increasing uncertainty. France implicitly sends the following message to its population: the era of calculable globalization is over.
Lecornu’s statements therefore fit into a broader strategic pattern. Europe is mentally preparing for a world where supply chains will become more fragile, energy will remain expensive, and geopolitical shocks will be more frequent.
A second factor comes into play: rearmament in terms of security. France plans to invest heavily in defense, weapons production, and strategic infrastructure. President Macron has been speaking for years about the “strategic autonomy” of Europe. This direction gains additional legitimacy thanks to the current crises.
But rearmament, energy security, and industrial resilience are expensive. Very expensive. The political challenge is therefore to make this transformation socially acceptable.
The psychology of adaptation
This is precisely where Lecornu’s phrase fulfills its real function.
The government is trying to follow a narrow path: it must prepare the population for tougher times without causing alarmism. It must convey seriousness without provoking panic. And it must explain why the state will soon no longer be able to fully compensate every cost.
This explains the markedly technocratic tone of government communication. The crisis is not dramatized, it is managed. There is talk of targeted aid, distribution of costs, resilience, and adaptation.
A silent educational message thus emerges: citizens must learn to accept uncertainty as a normal state.
It is politically risky. Because France remains a country with a strong culture of protest and a deep mistrust of the elites. Any perception of social injustice can quickly become explosive. At the same time, the government seems convinced that a return to the old illusion of stability is no longer possible.
The real message is therefore not: “The state protects you from the crisis.”
But: the state seeks to keep society under control through an era of permanent crises.
This is a fundamental difference — and perhaps the real political break of this moment.
P.T.