Strolling beneath sunlit skies, an impeccably-groomed young man is greeted by enthusiastic crowds of adoring supporters, chanting his name and calling out for selfies. Bodyguards in tow, he cheerfully poses for photos, signs autographs, even takes time out for an impromptu singalong. With his boy band good looks and dazzling dimpled smile, he mischievously swipes a pair of sunglasses from an unsuspecting, but star-struck, passerby.
This vignette of life on the road in rural France is accompanied by an uplifting cover of the Coldplay hit, Viva la Vida. A casual viewer could confuse it with a scene from a music video, but in reality, this is a campaign video for the rising star of the French far right.
With 1.6 million followers on TikTok, 28-year-old Jordan Bardella, president of the far-right National Rally, has the kind of social media following that most MEPs could only dream of.
Among his most popular posts are short clips in which he is seen devouring bonbons, chomping down on hot dogs, or cuddling pet rabbits. In one video (viewed more than 6.2 million times), he’s walking hand-in-hand with a boy dressed in a Spider-Man jacket. Joking that the child isn’t his son, he tells the camera, to the amusement of his sidekicks, that he has no children, at least as far as he’s aware. Beneath the video, the caption reads: “the young are with us”.
The young are a key demographic for the National Rally, and these carefully-curated videos are aimed at appealing to future voters. Under Marine Le Pen, the party has worked hard to reposition itself as a progressive political force, an alternative to the ruling urban elite. She insists that the rabble-rousing rhetoric, racism, xenophobia and anti-Semitism that defined the party under the leadership of her father, co-founder Jean-Marie Le Pen, is a thing of the distant past. And Bardella is the physical embodiment of that supposed transition.
But beneath the veneer, the party’s ideological beliefs remain unaltered. Recurring themes loom large: identity, tradition, patriotism, sacrifice and martyrdom, as the National Rally continues to portray itself as the only political group capable of “protecting” the French nation.
While cautious in his public remarks, Bardella’s views mirror those of his party’s founding fathers. He has made statements in support of Génération Identitaire, a far-right organisation dissolved by the government for inciting racial hatred. In January, he vehemently denied allegations, made in an investigative TV report, that he had used an anonymous Twitter account to share racist messages when he was a local councillor.
Himself the son of immigrants from Italy, Bardella claims to have no problem with individuals who flee persecution in search of refuge, but laments that France is being “submerged” by waves of foreigners. “Millions” of people are being “terrorised” each day, he says, with the blame placed firmly on the government for its “laxist immigration policies”.
While his detractors argue that Bardella lacks substance, his message increasingly resonates with voters, and not just those who fit the mould of the stereotypical far-right supporter. “Immigrants like you are not the problem,” says a fashionably-dressed man to his friend when canvassed for his views on the National Rally’s electoral success. He is having lunch with friends at a cafe in Bordeaux. One of the group is of Arab descent, all are aged 28, like Bardella, and all voted for him last Sunday. “Immigration is the single biggest problem in France,” says one. “Bardella is a patriot. We’ve tried many things politically and they’re just not working. Why not try something new and give him a chance? The far right is unfairly demonised.”
Elsewhere on the streets of the left-leaning city, where just 13 per cent of people voted for the National Rally, it is hard to find young people who feel represented by Bardella. But even those with no interest in politics have seen him on social media. “He’s very charismatic, calm, composed. He comes across well. It’s a bit frightening to see how effectively he performs,” says one woman.
Observers say the well-honed performance is due to intensive media training. After joining the then National Front at the age of 16, Bardella quickly rose through the ranks, becoming a protege of Le Pen, and leading the party to a successful showing in the last European elections, where it won 23 per cent of the vote, finishing in first place. He was appointed party president in 2022.
Macron is taking a massive gamble, playing Russian roulette with his legacy and plunging France into deep political uncertainty
Bardella makes much of his upbringing in Gabriel-Péri, a working-class suburb in Saint-Denis, north of Paris, where he was raised by a single mother. He maintains that his flat complex was besieged by “Islamic fundamentalists” and drug dealers, but the young Bardella attended a private school, and gave French lessons to the children of local immigrant families.
Undoubtedly an effective communicator, many question whether he is experienced enough to govern, and whether France is prepared to hand power to far-right nationalists. If his party secures a majority in the snap election, to be held just weeks before the start of the Olympics, Emmanuel Macron will have no choice but to appoint Bardella prime minister. In that case, the president would remain in charge of defence and foreign policy, but would lose control over the domestic agenda, including immigration policy. Early surveys suggest the more likely result may be a wide-ranging coalition, or hung parliament.
[ Who is Jordan Bardella, the young face of the French far right?Opens in new window ]
Whether he’s trying to call the electorate’s bluff, catch his opponents off-guard, or is simply confident that voters will swing behind him – as they did in order to keep Marine Le Pen from the presidency – Macron is taking a big gamble, playing Russian roulette with his legacy and plunging France into deep political uncertainty. But, without an absolute majority since 2022, the president has struggled to get legislation passed, and may have believed that an eventual dissolution of parliament, via a motion of no-confidence, was inevitable.
“Revolutionaries wait for my head on a silver plate,” go the lyrics to that Coldplay song. “Now the old king is dead, long live the king,” it continues. A coded warning to Macron from the Bardella camp?
Sharon Gaffney is a freelance journalist based in Paris
- Listen to our Inside Politics Podcast for the latest analysis and chat
- Sign up for push alerts and have the best news, analysis and comment delivered directly to your phone
- Find The Irish Times on WhatsApp and stay up to date