We would have liked, as is customary on election night, to weigh the balance of power out of the ballot box with a trebuchet. Salute the surprise victory of the right, to which the politico-media choir had been promising for weeks the torture of quartering, and which, in the river scores of its main leaders - Bertrand, Pécresse, Wauquiez - suddenly found color and , for the future, reasons to hope. Comment on the underperformance of the RN, referred, once again, to the curse of the “glass ceiling”. To ironize on the fine maneuvers hatched by the strategists of the Elysee, to take his opponents in the pincers of this Macron-Le Pen duel imposed on all. In short, we would have liked to be in politics, but the - vertiginous - abstention suspends the analysis and sounds the civic alert.
Because there is no mistaking it: when abstention reaches such a level, it is no longer allowed to see it as a simple effect of the arrival of fine weather, of post-Covid euphoria or of 'boredom
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