“JUMP IN!” yells Bruno Bonnell from behind the wheel of his rented minivan. A tech entrepreneur more used to labs than leafleting, the local candidate for Villeurbanne in the upcoming parliamentary elections has never fought a political campaign in his life, and is having a blast. He has plastered a huge photo of himself and Emmanuel Macron, the French president, whose party he is standing for, on the outside of the van. “I love it,” he grins, as he drives around the constituency, next to Lyon: “People recognise the photo, and they smile.”

A second revolution is underway in France. On the back of the remarkable election in May of Mr Macron, who had never before run for election to any office, La République en Marche! (LRM), a movement he founded just 14 months ago, looks set to secure a parliamentary majority at the two-round legislative election, on June 11th and 18th (see chart). Only weeks ago, such a prospect looked slim. But almost everything Mr Macron has achieved so far has defied expectations. In constituencies across the country, enthusiastic political novices, such as Mr Bonnell, are preparing to transform the face of the National Assembly, and of French party politics.

Polls suggest that LRM could get 395-425 of the 577 seats. If so, this would be unprecedented for a new political movement. It would also be the biggest majority achieved by any party since Charles de Gaulle founded the Fifth Republic in 1958. (The current record is held by Jacques Chirac, whose centre-right party won 365 seats in 2002.) “There’s no longer any doubt about him getting a majority,” says a Socialist former minister, whose own party is heading for a wipe-out. Its share of seats could plunge from 271 to a rump of just 25-35. The party that has governed France for the past five years could become all but inaudible in parliament, its representation barely bigger than that of Jean-Luc Mélenchon’s Unsubmissive France, a far-left fringe group.

Amateur power

Mr Macron is hoovering up votes across the spectrum. Marine Le Pen’s xenophobic National Front could improve its current tally of just two deputies to perhaps 15. Ms Le Pen stands a chance of securing her first parliamentary seat in the northern ex-mining town of Hénin-Beaumont. But this would still be a disappointment for a party that had hoped to turn itself into a proper force of opposition. That role will fall to the centre-right Republicans, who are themselves heading for big losses. The Republicans had once expected to win both the presidency and a parliamentary majority. Instead, they could end up with little more than 100 seats, half their current share.

There could be some big-name casualties. Among those vulnerable is Najat Vallaud-Belkacem, a former education minister, who is running as the Socialist candidate against Mr Bonnell in Villeurbanne, an inner-city constituency well stocked with kebab shops as well as patisseries. A well-known figure nationally, she also cut her political teeth locally as an adviser to the mayor of Lyon, Gérard Collomb. But they have since parted ways. An early supporter of Mr Macron, Mr Collomb is now his interior minister, and turned up in Villeurbanne this week at a rally to drum up support for the 58-year-old Mr Bonnell. Polls suggest that the techie will win the run-off vote.

The Macron parliamentary revolution is not only about upsetting the old party balance, which has dominated France for 60 years, in favour of a new radical centre. It is also changing the face of French politics. Fully 251 of the 525 candidates LRM is fielding, which it selected from among 19,000 online applicants, have never run for elected office before, according to Le Monde, a newspaper. Half are women; the average age is 47. Like Mr Bonnell, some are entrepreneurs. There are also many teachers, civil servants and doctors, 11 farmers, two firemen, a hairdresser, an ex-professional golfer, a theologian, a mathematician and a female fighter pilot.

This astonishing democratic experiment is both refreshing, and a gamble. Some deputies with strong local roots could yet resist the Macron mania. And those political novices who are indeed elected for LRM will have to learn fast. “I’m completely new to this world,” laughs Mr Bonnell: “You have to be humble.” Yet the French like the idea of turfing out the old guard, and seem ready to take the risk. “Let’s give him a chance,” says a voter in Villeurbanne who did not back Mr Macron in the first presidential round, but intends to do so at the legislative election.

A parliamentary majority for Mr Macron would be in line with tradition, whereby voters back the presidential winner. But it could also reflect widespread approval for the firm yet dignified way Mr Macron has represented France since his election. His poll ratings are high. Fully 76% of voters judge his first diplomatic steps favourably. Adrien Taquet, the LRM candidate in the Paris suburb of Asnières and the brains behind the name “En Marche!”, says that, when he is out canvassing, voters spontaneously mention the president’s muscular handshake with America’s Donald Trump.

Mr Macron has already torn up the unwritten rules governing the French presidential elections. Now he looks set to rip apart those behind the party-political system too.