As in the US, the Rust Belt may decide who wins the French election

As in the US, the Rust Belt may decide who wins the French election

France's election season is in full swing.

The two candidates considered, at the moment at least, to be the front runners chose the city of Lyon to kick off this final stretch of a campaign that's proving to be exciting, unpredictable and could have profound implications for Europe.

Right now, the momentum isn't with the establishment parties.

The ruling Socialists are languishing in fourth place in the polls and have chosen a presidential candidate far to the left.

Benoit Hamon is compared to Jeremy Corbyn. Perfect for his core supporters but not palatable for the masses.


The centre-right Republicans were the favourite with their man Francois Fillon until he found himself having to defend the fact that he'd paid his wife around €800,000 of public money for working for him.

Le Pen and Macron kick off their campaigns

That's perfectly legal except he's yet to provide evidence that she actually did any work.

And so, the weekend rallies were for the two new favourites.

Marine Le Pen is populist, nationalist; a divisive character who wants a Frexit and Trump-like curbs on immigrants.

Emmanuel Macron is an independent maverick; pro-European, scandal free (for now) and fresh faced.

Both campaigns were in overdrive this weekend. Both capitalising on a polarised country.

"Give France its freedom back and give the people a voice," Ms Le Pen told her faithful.

Among 144 "commitments", were pledges to leave the eurozone, slash immigration, tax those who employ foreigners and hold a referendum on France's EU membership.

"The British, who have chosen freedom with Brexit and who can congratulate themselves for the good shape of their economy" she said.

Le Pen promises immigration clampdown

Her party has attempted a makeover. On the posters and in the leaflets there's no mention of 'Le Pen'. It's simply 'Marine'.

The racist connotations associated with her father and National Front founder Jean-Marie Le Pen are still very real for many across France, especially older generations.

The polls will indicate if the PR revamp has worked.

Across town, Emmanuel Macron addressed a more reserved crowd of 8,000. He's not a known quantity like Marine Le Pen. People are still making up their mind.

Politically, he's centrist. A former investment banker, ex-economy minister in the ruling Socialist Party.

Establishment, you might say, except he's ditched the Socialists and started his own movement - En Marche.

"I'm neither left nor right," he says. His attraction seems to be that he's different.

As one supporter said to me - he's set up the first new movement in the history of the Fifth Republic. Perhaps that's why he's currently leading the polls.

But election rallies are not the place to gauge the true mood. To do that you need to head to towns like Hayange.

Many miles to the north of the rallies, Hayange is in France's Rust Belt. Through the fog, what's left of an industry that was the soul of this place is just about visible.

Blast furnaces tower above a sprawling steelworks which represented the country's industrial heart. Now they're deserted and decaying; the jobs are in China.

"My father, my brother, my grandfather all worked here," Leonel Burriello tells me. He did too until it shut down in 2012.

"For me it's a tragedy. The steel is the source of life of this valley," he says.

What does far-right leader Le Pen want to do in France?

He's in no doubt who's to blame. The failures of the political establishment have caused this; the failures of current socialist president Francois Hollande and his Republican predecessor Nicolas Sarkozy.

But more than that. They are the reason politics is polarising.

He says: "They have made damaging social choices from which there are consequences.

"The political consequences are that when people open their fridges and there is nothing to eat, they can't pay their bills, they hear more easily the sirens of the National Front."

Hayange is a town bypassed. The motorway literally cuts through the heart of the place. It feels forgotten by the mainstream and chose a National Front mayor three years ago.

In the square I meet Mourad Fali. He is 31, Algerian by origin, French by birth and unemployed for seven years. He lives with his parents.

"Here there is no future," he tells me. "For the generation to come, life will be miserable. That's for sure."

Who will he vote for? He doesn't know. Not the National Front. And yet he says they do have some good ideas.

The direction France chooses will be decided in places like this. And the implications for Europe could be huge.