The reception of Paris Saint-Germain at the Élysée Palace confirms a development that has been clear for years: football in France has long been more than just a sport. After the Paris club’s second triumph in the Champions League, President Emmanuel Macron once again welcomed the team at the presidential palace—just as he did after their first European title win. Such gestures are no longer mere formalities today. They reflect the special role football has taken on in French political life.
For politicians, it has now become almost impossible to distance themselves from football. The sport offers something politics constantly seeks: images of unity, collective emotions, and an easily understandable national narrative. Millions of people watch the same games, experience the same moments of euphoria or disappointment, and share the same symbols. Few other social phenomena reach comparable widespread impact.
Emmanuel Macron recognized this dynamic early on. Although he traditionally presents himself as a supporter of Olympique Marseille, he is aware of the political radiance of a European success by PSG. A French club at the pinnacle of European football allows the head of state to address national recognition and pride without immediately arousing suspicion of partisan staging. The club’s success is thus stylized as a success of France.
At the same time, this closeness to football has long become an obligation for politics. Top politicians are expected to accompany major sporting moments, congratulate victorious teams, and publicly identify with the successes. Those who refuse risk being perceived as aloof or emotionless. Football has thus become an integral part of political communication.
However, the sport’s popularity also brings risks. Major victories are regularly overshadowed by riots, property damage, or clashes. The political leadership therefore faces a balancing act: it must honor the enthusiasm while guaranteeing order and security. Even after the most recent PSG triumph, Macron linked his congratulations to a clear condemnation of the violence that occurred around the celebrations.
On the other side of the political spectrum, the Rassemblement National pursues a different approach. Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardella focus less on the sporting euphoria and more on the negative side effects of the mass celebrations. For them, the images of chaos, destruction, and security issues take precedence over those of success. This stance fits seamlessly into the party’s political strategy to put social order and internal security at the center of its messages.
This reveals a fundamental difference between the political camps. Government parties and centrist forces try to harness the integrative power of football for themselves. They present the sport as an expression of national community and social cohesion. In contrast, the Rassemblement National directs its attention more to the dark sides of such major events, appealing to those citizens who feel directly affected by the consequences of public unrest.
Football has thus become a political stage where different narratives compete. For Macron, it stands as a symbol of national unity and international influence. For the RN, the same occasion serves as evidence of deficits in security and public order. Both interpretations draw on the same events but arrive at completely different political messages.
This is precisely where the political significance of modern football lies. It offers not only entertainment but also a projection surface for social debates about identity, cohesion, security, and national representation. The ball no longer just rolls across the pitch. It moves through France’s political arena and has become an indispensable part of the public staging of power, community, and conflict.
Author: P. Tiko