Le Pen Could Be Banned from Politics and Jailed Next Week

Marine Le Pen, the frontrunner for the 2027 French presidency, could be sent to prison and banned from office as early as next week. Prosecutors allege that Le Pen and more than 20 National Rally (RN) members misused 2.5 million euros (£2 million) in EU parliamentary funds between 2004 and 2016 by redirecting them to pay party staff rather than accredited parliamentary assistants in Brussels.

There is no allegation that Le Pen embezzled the funds or used them for personal gain: this was a matter of internal staffing allocation, not misappropriation for personal benefit. But nonetheless, if the court decides against Le Pen, it could spell the end of her career: prosecutors seek a five-year prison term (three suspended), a 250,000 euro (£200,000) fine, and a five-year public office ban with ‘provisional execution’: a pre-appeal axe that could fell her 2027 bid, despite her lead in the polls.

Provisional execution is a procedural tool in French law that allows a sentence to be carried out immediately, even while appeals are ongoing. Traditionally reserved for urgent civil matters or cases involving serious criminality, it is rare in political or financial contexts. Applying it to Le Pen’s case – involving alleged misuse of assistant budgets – would be an extraordinary move. Le Pen calls it a ‘political lynching’. Her supporters smell Macron’s hand. The charges – reallocating funds for political ends – shrink beside the stakes of neutralising a frontrunner, exposing the flimsiness of the pretext.

The Constitutional Council – led by Richard Ferrand, a staunch Macron loyalist – will give its verdict on the case two days later, on Wednesday next week. Though tied to a Mayotte councilman’s case, its ruling on provisional execution–- enforcing a ban before appeals – targets Le Pen first and foremost. Approval by the Constitutional Council will banish Le Pen instantly; rejection simply delays the strike.

Ferrand, who has no independent career as a judge but is a long-time politician, presides. Appointed by Macron in February, his selection narrowly passed through parliament by one vote – thanks to RN’s abstention rather than active support. A former socialist and key figure in Macron’s 2017 campaign, Ferrand also chaired the National Assembly (2018–2022) and weathered a 2017 nepotism controversy over a property deal involving his partner’s firm. His background and close political connections suggest that some critics may view him less as a neutral guardian of the law and more as an extension of the political establishment. Although he does not have the final say on the verdict, his appointment has raised concerns about the judiciary’s independence and whether political considerations could influence the outcome.

Macron, reeling from RN’s 2024 snap election surge, may be clinging to this lever. Ferrand’s ascent aligns with a rare push for provisional execution of what the criminal court is likely to decide: a political ban.

This would not be the first time French courts have clipped the wings of inconvenient political challengers. François Fillon, the centre-right frontrunner in 2017, was effectively knocked out of the race after prosecutors opened a case against him mid-campaign. While the allegations were serious – Fillon was accused of paying his wife, Penelope, for a fictitious parliamentary assistant job – they were fundamentally different in nature and timing. Fillon had not yet faced trial when the accusations surfaced, and the media firestorm, coupled with prosecutorial pressure, sank his campaign. By contrast, Le Pen is already under judicial examination, with prosecutors now pushing for a ban before appeals are even heard. Since then, le coup judiciaire has become an increasingly common accusation from across the political spectrum.

A stark illustration of judicial tilt came in 2013 with the mur des cons (or ‘wall of jerks’) scandal, when a leftist magistrates’ union was caught displaying a wall of photos targeting right-wing figures and critics of the judiciary, including parents of crime victims, branded as fools. The affair, culminating in a 2021 conviction for public insult, laid bare an ideological bias that continues to fuel distrust in the system’s impartiality: distrust now weaponised against Le Pen.

Le Pen’s ban might cloak itself as democratic, but toppling a poll-leader over trifling financial gripes betrays the plot. The Constitutional Council, approving this, would cement Macron’s endgame: stifling Le Pen through lawfare, not ballots. By the middle of next week, France’s democratic façade may have cracked.

Le Pen’s fate will be decided in two parts – and the sequence matters. First, on Monday, the Paris criminal court (Tribunal correctionnel) will hand down its ruling. Even if convicted, she has the right to appeal both the sentence and the fine.

The real blow would come if the court imposes the ban and designates it as exécution provisoire – it would mean that it’s immediately enforceable. That’s where the Constitutional Council comes in. If it decides against Le Pen, just like that, she could be out of the 2027 race.

A ban would throw everything wide open. RN leader Jordan Bardella might step in – but at just 29, he’s untested and widely seen as too inexperienced to carry the same weight as Le Pen. Macron’s political opponents on the centre-right and left are weak, divided, and scrambling for relevance. If the French courts remove Le Pen, they won’t just decide her fate: they’ll upend the political landscape of France and perhaps even of Europe.