The PS and nuclear power: A slowly turning tide

9At the time of its inception in the 1960s and escalation with the Messmer plan in 1974, France’s civil nuclear program had the PS’s full support. Despite certain criticisms levelled during the 1981 presidential campaign,  [15] this support lasted well into the late 1990s.  [16] With the exception of proposals for a nuclear power plant at Plogoff, shelved promptly upon his 1981 victory, successive socialist governments under François Mitterrand’s presidency upheld the central role of nuclear power in France’s energy policy. It was at the time of the 1997 general election that the PS began to shift its position, promising to close the Superphoenix breeder reactor in a bid to seal an electoral pact with the greens.  [17] However, despite several green party ministers joining the government, France had by no means abandoned its nuclear policy. While Lionel Jospin’s government confirmed the decommissioning of Superphoenix in 1998 and chose not to approve any proposals for further construction, it did not challenge the opening of the Civaux plant in 1997, nor of the Chooz facility in 2002.

10Over the course of the 2000s, the PS, under Hollande’s leadership, chose to occupy the middle ground. This position can partly be explained by the competing incentives created by the party’s new alliance-building strategy: no longer exclusively focused on agreements with the Communist Party, very much in favor of nuclear power, but also on partnerships with the greens, unequivocally against.  [18] This intermediate standpoint was reflected in the PS’s 2007 general election manifesto, with nuclear power presented as a “high-quality sector,” imperative in the fight against climate change. Yet, at the same time, the party also promised to “reduce our dependence on nuclear power by boosting renewable energy to 20 percent of final energy consumption by 2020 and 50 percent in the longer term.”  [19] The candidate selected for the first round of the 2007 election, Ségolène Royal, went further still, declaring her support for shutting down the country’s oldest nuclear power stations,  [20] including Fessenheim,  [21] on several occasions over the course of the campaign. This stance provoked strong reactions within the PS, particularly among those known to take a favorable view of nuclear energy, such as Christian Bataille and Bernard Cazeneuve.  [22] Consequently, Royal’s presidential manifesto set no quantitative objectives or time frames for reducing the role of nuclear power in France’s energy mix.  [23] The PS has continued to chart this middle course ever since. In early 2010, a national conference was held, “for a new model of economic, social, and ecological development.” In the conference summary, nuclear power is described as “unavoidable in today’s world,” even though the party hoped to ensure its role was “progressively reduced, thanks to the growth of renewable energy and energy efficiency.” In this way, the socialists once again showcased their aspiration to reduce the contribution of nuclear power to the energy mix, while refraining from specifying any concrete measures in that direction.  [24]

11The Fukushima disaster was a game-changer, reigniting the debate within the PS. This “focusing event”  [25] prompted the party secretary, Martine Aubry, to reassess her position in a radical way. Ten days after the accident, on the set of Canal+’s Grand Journal, the touted presidential candidate for 2012 declared: “I think we need to move away from nuclear power.”  [26] The message was later echoed by several party officials. Nevertheless, the majority of the PS’s leadership remained hostile to the idea of abandoning nuclear power altogether. When the issue was put to a vote on May 19, 2011, the party therefore stuck to the line adopted in 2007, framing the “total” shift away from nuclear power as an aspiration and committing to cut its contribution to the energy mix.  [27] During the campaign for the PS presidential primary in the run-up to the 2012 election, candidates took clear and distinctive positions on the nuclear issue. Ségolène Royal and Martine Aubry spoke out in favor of ceasing all nuclear power production within a relatively short time frame. François Hollande and Arnaud Montebourg followed the official party line, arguing only for a reduced reliance on nuclear power, without specifying which facilities might have to close in order to achieve that goal.  [28] Hollande’s ultimate victory in the primary seemed to point to a continuation of the status quo and to deepen, on this as on so many issues, the rift between party policy and the candidate’s own views.  [29] This “status quo,” however, would evolve in the course of the PS’s negotiations with the green party, EELV.

Closing Fessenheim: A concession issue in negotiations with the EELV

12Negotiations between the PS and the EELV, which began in early summer 2011, were aimed at reaching an agreement on a joint governance program and on the allocation of constituencies ahead of the general election. While discussions on electoral matters were always “cordial,”  [30] given that “both sides had an interest in a good outcome,” policy talks proved more difficult. Nuclear power in particular emerged as “one of the main sticking points.”  [31]

13Historically, the greens had always advocated a clean break, and felt that a future leftist government, of which they intended to be part, should make a start in this direction by shutting down several reactors. A number of names kept cropping up in discussions, particularly Tricastin, Bugey, and Fessenheim. The antinuclear movement was especially focused on Fessenheim for several reasons. First, dating from 1977, it is the oldest nuclear power station in France. Second, its location makes it particularly vulnerable to natural hazards, chiefly earthquakes and flooding; the plant was built in a seismic zone, nine meters below the Grand Canal d’Alsace. Third, the plant’s “core catcher” (the concrete slab on which the reactors rest, designed to slow down the corium, the core of the nuclear fusion reactor, in the event of an accident or loss of cooling) is shallower than that of other facilities.  [32]

14Despite the arguments put forward by detractors, the ASN had given Fessenheim’s Reactor 1 the green light to continue operations following its ten-year inspection on July 4, 2011. Consequently, most negotiators on the PS side refused to countenance including a specific reference to Fessenheim in the text of the agreement with the EELV. These tensions were exacerbated after the PS primary, when supporters of Martine Aubry, who had chosen a more moderate stance, were supplanted in the negotiations with the EELV by Hollande’s team, who were determined to take a harder line. The Fessenheim question became a key focus of the discussions, but the PS found it difficult not to yield to the EELV’s demands on what was a powerfully symbolic issue for them. Six months before the first round of the presidential election, opinion polls were pointing to a deep hostility towards nuclear power among French voters, with a large majority of PS supporters even stating that they would like to see nuclear power stations close.  [33] Moreover, the EELV candidate, Eva Joly, could still count on a respectable number of votes,  [34] threatening to prevent Hollande from taking the lead in the first round and jeopardizing his chances of overall victory.

15Given the circumstances, there is every indication that the promise to close the plant was ultimately approved by Hollande after Michel Sapin, who had taken the driver’s seat in the negotiations, asked that the talks be adjourned at the final stage in order to seek confirmation from the candidate.  [35] This episode highlights Hollande’s concern with maximizing his prospects of success, even if it meant accepting certain compromises over his governance agenda.  [36] It also confirms the conclusions of studies on pre-election coalition building, which suggest that major parties are more inclined to give ground to smaller ones over public policy issues than over seats.  [37] Indeed, when Cécile Duflot and Martine Aubry signed the governance agreement on behalf of their two parties on November 15, 2011, the closure of Fessenheim was explicitly mentioned in the text.  [38]

16This is not to say that every issue surrounding nuclear power had been resolved, as is clear from the frank acknowledgement of a disagreement over the construction of the EPR  [39] at Flamanville.  [40] Still, once national headquarters had approved the agreement, the PS issued a statement aimed at the press containing an abridged version of the final text. This document omitted a provision on abandoning the MOX path, which would only be reinstated after a day of vacillation.  [41] It therefore seems quite clear that the promise to close Fessenheim, as it would eventually appear in Hollande’s 60 Proposals, was extracted from the candidate with some difficulty in the context of negotiations with his coalition partners, the EELV, the outcome of which he hoped would be to secure maximum support in the second round of the presidential election. The fraught circumstances in which the commitment was made were recognized by the primary stakeholders, some of whom foresaw the possibility that Hollande would go back on his word. This was true, for example, of Éric Straumann, MP and president of the Haut-Rhin Departmental Council, who was against the closure: “It was a political promise. It was purely political, intended to placate the greens. At the same time, nobody was particularly worried. Not us, the politicians, nor the unions, nor the plant’s employees.”  [42]

17Hollande’s first public remarks after negotiations concluded seem to confirm Straumann’s analysis. As early as the end of November, when asked if he would implement all of the measures set out in the agreement, he made his position very clear: “No. I will implement those measures that seem to me most fundamental.” When pressed to clarify his views, on nuclear power in particular, Hollande replied: “I am not in favor of abandoning nuclear power [...] We have power stations in place and an industry around them, and that industry must remain productive.”  [43]

18Hollande’s bid to distance himself from the EELV­PS agreement would also be apparent in his debate with Nicolas Sarkozy, between the two rounds of the presidential election, although on that occasion he did reaffirm his promise to shut down the Fessenheim plant: “Just one plant will close: Fessenheim [...] It’s the oldest in France and it’s in a seismic zone next to the Alsace Canal. I understand the viewpoint of the workers who want to keep it open, but no jobs will be lost [...] Furthermore, I am not tied to the greens’ position on this issue because I did not recognize the section on nuclear power in the agreement that was passed.”

19Thus, the pledge got a lot of media exposure over the course of the presidential campaign.  [44] Symbolic, precise, and therefore easy to identify and track, it seemed like a fairly straightforward commitment to keep; it would not unduly strain the public purse, nor did it entail a radical break with existing energy policy. However, it was also very much improvised. Its appearance in the presidential manifesto, written by a team led by Michel Sapin, was ultimately the result of a combination of crisis dynamics—in the aftermath of the Fukushima disaster—and the electoral and political exigences of the presidential race.

20Moreover, while the promise had been made in the context of a pre-electoral coalition, the low vote share for the EELV’s Eva Joly and, especially, the outcome of the general election (17 seats for the EELV, 295 for the PS, an absolute majority) would significantly weaken the green party’s powers to insist on the closure of Fessenheim. As a general rule, junior partners in any coalition have only limited influence on the substance of public policies brought forward,  [45] but the imbalance is even more pronounced in the event of a surplus coalition.  [46]

The delegation of safety and political backtracking

23Although safety concerns figured among the grounds initially advanced to support the closure, they were only ever raised in an indirect way (in the form of a reference to the plant’s age or to seismic activity in the area) and were later dropped completely by the political actors involved. By January 2013, the government was insisting that “the decision to close [Fessenheim], taken with a view to our long-term energy mix, was not prompted by any immediate safety concerns. We have total confidence in the current safety of the site; the ASN has made it quite clear that there is no reason to close the facility as a matter of urgency.”  [52]

24This repositioning was partially attributable to regulatory constraints. Since the Law of July 13, 2006, on Transparency and Security in the Nuclear Field (the TSN law) came into effect, responsibility for monitoring nuclear safety has effectively been placed under the sole jurisdiction of the ASN, an independent administrative authority.  [53] The TSN law establishes the competences of the ASN and the ministers responsible for nuclear safety (i.e., the Ministry of Ecology) in relation to the construction, operation, and decommissioning of a nuclear power station. As shown in Table 1 below, the ASN can only legally intervene in the decommissioning process in an advisory capacity, through a preliminary recommendation. However, it would be politically unthinkable for the various political actors to make a decision that went against the agency’s view, even to insist on tighter safety standards.  [54]

25Nevertheless, this division of roles can give rise to varying interpretations among actors, and it opens the door to blame-avoidance strategies.  [55] When asked about Fessenheim’s future, the former minister of ecology, Nathalie Kosciusko-Morizet, stated that she was “awaiting the results of the post-Fukushima audit before drawing any conclusions on Fessenheim,”  [56] which implies that the ministry would have the deciding vote. In contrast, in autumn 2014 the new ecology minister, Ségolène Royal, was contemplating the closure of other plants. Faced with controversy over the way Hollande’s promise was being reassessed, Royal left it to the ASN to decide which reactors to close, despite the fact that it had just authorized the continued operation of all French nuclear facilities, subject to certain safety improvements in light of the post-Fukushima audit.  [57] This understanding of the situation was challenged by several actors who were in favor of closing the Fessenheim site, on two grounds. First, there were claims that the safety and security issues were far more complex than the ASN had acknowledged: “We’re fighting because of the risk, not for the reasons that government authorities later came up with to justify closing the plant.”  [58]?Second, these actors believed that from a regulatory perspective the government still had the final say if safety was at stake.  [59]

26Meanwhile, the ASN, as an independent administrative authority, was particularly keen to demonstrate its independence with regard to new political agendas. Following the election of François Hollande, the ASN initially confined itself to reminding the government of the time frame for closure. By February 2013, it was already pointing out that the lead time for examining a request to decommission a nuclear reactor is five years.  [60] Later, it worked with the executive during the drafting of provisions in the LTCEV relating to dismantlement procedures.  [61] The ASN also conveyed disquiet over the standardization of France’s energy infrastructure as a whole; if the current means of electricity production (nuclear or otherwise) were not replaced, this would lead to “an undue conflict between energy supply and safety.”  [62]?However, the emergence of new safety concerns over the course of 2015 would prompt the ASN to order a temporary suspension of Fessenheim’s two reactors in October 2016. It argued that a precautionary halt to production at Reactor 2 was justified on safety grounds, rather than referring to claims that parts manufacturer Areva had falsified certain documents in order to meet quality specifications.  [63] Despite this measure, the ASN was criticized on all sides—some denounced its timidity, while others disapproved of its “attitude shift” and “alarmist statements,” taking the view that the organization should confine its role to the “strictly technical.”  [64]

27While the ASN consistently stressed that governmental decisions were paramount, the executive seemed to have given up on finding a legal mechanism that would allow it to close a nuclear facility on the grounds of “serious risk.” It could find no way to substantiate these risks without getting drawn into a conflict with the authority to which it had relinquished all claim to expertise.

EDF: The only stakeholder entitled to judge the economic rationale for closure

28Now that the safety argument had been quickly rebuffed, the only way for the government to keep its promise and close Fessenheim was to compel EDF to lodge a request for decommissioning. Indeed, this second pathway for closing a nuclear facility—governed by article 29 of the TSN law and article 593­25 of the Environmental Code—requires a prior request for authorization on the part of the operator. In other words, if EDF wanted to close one of its plants, especially for profitability reasons, it would need to comply with this procedure by lodging a request. This request would then be formalized by decree following consultation with the ASN. However, EDF had absolutely no intention of closing the Fessenheim plant, and had been against Hollande’s plan from the outset. The company was critical of what it saw as an inconsistent decision with regard to safety, pointing to the operating licenses granted by the ASN, and one that would be both economically and socially damaging. The closure would also pose technical challenges, since it would create problems with electricity supply and the balance of the grid.

29From this point on, each actor began to mobilize all available resources (legal, discursive, and relational) to argue for its preferred outcome. On September 15, 2012, the government announced that an interministerial delegate would be appointed to oversee the decommissioning and redevelopment of the Fessenheim nuclear power station. On December 12, 2012, this role was assigned to Francis Rol-Tanguy,  [65] who was tasked with negotiating a memorandum of understanding with EDF on behalf of the minister responsible for energy and in conjunction with the ASN.

30It has often been suggested that Rol-Tanguy’s connections to a well-known communist resistor, his past membership of the French Communist Party (PCF), and his insight into negotiation processes in social conflicts (e.g. the truckers’ strikes of 1984 and 1997 and the 1998 Air France pilots’ strike) worked in his favor, as the government was keen to placate the powerful CGT trade union. Nevertheless, it would appear that the choice was a spontaneous one, settled just before the September 2012 environmental conference. Rol-Tanguy himself has said that the government did not have “the slightest idea of how to broach the subject” when it came to setting out the planned stages towards closing the plant, and so opted to “bring in a celebrity.” After initially refusing the post in October 2012, and after overtures to other candidates failed, in December Rol-Tanguy eventually agreed to accept, in his capacity as haut-fonctionnaire (senior civil servant), acknowledging that he had no particular background or connections in the energy sector. Although both EDF’s president and EELV officials generally welcomed the move, the strategy of appeasing the CGT failed, with the union sensing a “political game.”  [66]

31Meanwhile, EDF developed a “legalistic” discursive strategy (thus displaying its respect for laws and procedures) but remained firmly opposed to the closure of Fessenheim. The company was fairly united in this stance, including the unions, despite divisions over other issues.  [67] EDF enjoys considerable latitude: With its privileged hold over legitimate technoeconomic expertise, it wields substantial influence over French nuclear policy and has done for quite some time, particularly through discussions and direct negotiations between its CEO and the head of state.  [68] Moreover, Henri Proglio (CEO of EDF until November 2014) had managed to convince the entire executive committee to oppose the closure.  [69] He had even asked his staff to cease all contact with the interministerial delegate for the closure of Fessenheim: Francis Rol-Tanguy. This situation continued for three months, until Emmanuel Macron, then deputy secretary-general of the Elysée, was given the task of smoothing things over with Proglio.  [70]

32The company’s strategy was to accentuate a series of technical, economic, and social arguments aimed at securing the highest possible compensation in the event that the impending power struggle ended in victory for the executive. The issue took on a social dimension that proved persuasive with Rol-Tanguy and captured media attention at the start of a new presidential term. A coalition of actors quickly formed around local Alsatian politicians, union representatives, and senior figures at EDF, whose aim was to “demonstrate that closing a reactor [...] creates social conflict.”  [71] In February 2012, EDF’s Comité central d’entreprise (CCE) (Central Works Council) commissioned a socioeconomic impact study of closing the plant (carried out by SYNDEX) and a technoeconomic study of continued operation (conducted by IED). Significantly, SYNDEX’s study estimated that almost 2,200 jobs would be put at risk if the facility was shut down (between direct, indirect, and induced losses), a figure that then became part of the public and media discourse surrounding the closure.  [72]

33Another problem was that the legitimacy of Roy-Tanguy’s role was not recognized by local stakeholders, who wanted to deal with the minister of ecology directly. Consequently, on his first visit to Fessenheim just two days after his appointment, the interministerial delegate’s access to the site was blocked by employees. A short time later, in February 2013, Fessenheim’s Interunion Committee lodged an appeal against the decree that had created the post (this was rejected by the Council of State on July 30, 2014). According to a representative from CGT Fessenheim: “There was no question of entering into a discussion with him, because we did not recognize his office [...] When [Jean-Michel] Malerba [the third interministerial delegate] arrived, he tried to establish a dialogue with us. We declined, again for the same reason; specifically and rationally, why would you want to close Fessenheim? We have never got an answer, so we are not going to discuss it.”  [73]

34The situation on the ground did not shift until 2016. No redevelopment proposal had been officially discussed by the unions or local MPs, who wanted the plant to remain in operation.

35As well as framing the closure as a social issue, EDF also managed to justify its rejection of the plan by invoking financial and budgetary restraints. As early as October 2012, Proglio had given his response to Hollande’s confirmation of his campaign promise: if Fessenheim was decommissioned early, EDF would demand several billion euros. The company argued that this sum reflected its loss of income, the need to repay investments made since June 2012 for safety improvements (required by the ASN and so non-negotiable and usually not up for political debate), and compensation for the plant’s other owners (Swiss and German, each holding a one-third interest). The sums mooted in early 2013 ranged between five and eight billion euros, although no official confirmation was forthcoming from EDF.  [74] Compensation now became the interministerial delegate’s primary concern: “Redevelopment was naturally controversial, particularly locally. But my main worry was that if the compensation was going to be four or five billion, it would never close. In these fiscally straitened times, we simply can’t say, `we’re going to pour five billion into closing Fessenheim.’”  [75]

36The government’s inability to force the closure on agents with delegated authority over the civil nuclear program (in matters of safety or economic viability) is one potential factor explaining why this campaign promise was so difficult to deliver. Faced with this apparent technical handicap, the government turned its attention to creating a legislative “operative event”  [76] that would compel EDF to begin the decommissioning process while keeping the compensation it could claim to a minimum.

The LTCEV: Missed opportunities

38In May 2013, Prime Minister Jean-Marc Ayrault stated that the closure of Fessenheim would be addressed in the statement of the LTCEV;  [78] however, the legislative session turned out to be more complex than anticipated.

39The first issue confronting the government was how to escape the regulatory impasse discussed above, wherein the authority to begin the process of shutting down the reactors rested with the ASN and EDF. The executive’s desire to take back control of the energy mix was declared in Hollande’s opening speech at the second environmental conference on September 20, 2013.  [79] It was confirmed a few months later by Jean-Michel Malerba, the new interministerial delegate for the closure of Fessenheim, just a few days after his appointment: “Until now, decommissioning decisions could only be made by the ASN on safety grounds or the operator for economic reasons, but there is a third potential criterion, energy policy, that is a matter for the state.”  [80]

40In this respect, there had been suggestions that a new procedure should be introduced for issuing operating licenses to power stations more than forty years old. EDF would be obliged to follow this procedure to ensure the continued operation of a plant (at present, operating licenses have no expiry date). Included in drafts right up until the day before the conference, this measure was not ultimately mentioned in Hollande’s speech. It would resurface, fruitlessly,  [81] in debates surrounding the LTCEV in September 2014, six months after the EELV had left government, at which point much of the incentive for honoring the pledge evaporated. This episode indicates the government’s considerable reluctance to strengthen its own powers to force the Fessenheim plant to close.

41This third pathway is not explicitly set out in the LTCEV, but the general idea can be seen to underpin several of its articles. Article 1 establishes the objective of “reduc[ing] the contribution of nuclear power to electricity production to 50% by 2025”; article 55 modifies article L.311­5­5 of the Energy Code, stipulating that a license to operate a power station may not be granted if this would push the nuclear sector’s total authorized electricity production capacity above the cap of 63.2 gigawatts (GW). This figure, corresponding to the current level of nuclear energy production, allows for the introduction of an absolute limit on nuclear production capacity, rather than a percentage limit.

42However, the LTCEV does not specify which mechanisms the government envisaged using to achieve this goal. These were to be outlined in the Multiannual Energy Program (PPE), a strategic document introduced by article 176 of the LTCEV, intended to determine “the priorities for action in relation to the management of all forms of energy in metropolitan France, in order to achieve the national objectives established by law.” However, this plan took longer than expected to put together. Given the delay in determining the substantive content of the government’s energy policies, many suspected that Hollande’s campaign promise would be abandoned. The former leader of the EELV, Cécile Duflot, says:

43During the debate on the LTCEV, I realized that the promise to close Fessenheim would not be honored when, during the final reading, the government introduced an amendment relating to the PPE, replacing the words “adopted before December 31, 2015” with “debated.” I voted in favor of the LTCEV regardless, because there were other things, because the process was already under way, because Baupin had secured a lot of concessions... But deep down, it was clear to me that [the issue of] Fessenheim was dead.  [82]?

44This quotation clearly demonstrates the EELV’s relative powerlessness to put pressure on the government to deliver on Hollande’s promise. Diminished within the majority coalition following the resignations of two of their ministers, Cécile Duflot and Pascal Canfin, in March 2014, and having lost a good part of their vote share in the midterm elections (particularly the European election), the EELV were struggling to make their voice heard. To complicate matters, the executive never officially shelved the closure of Fessenheim, and seemed intent on humoring its partners in the majority. The first PPE, approved by decree on October 27, 2016, stated that “the decree to revoke the operating license for the two reactors at the Fessenheim power station” would be “published in 2016.”  [83] However, the plan also referred to the 63.2 GW cap on the country’s nuclear capacity, which amounts to a proviso that one or more currently active reactors must close before any new nuclear power station can commence production. The objective was clear: to tie the commissioning of the Flamanville EPR (with a potential capacity of 1,630 megawatts [MW]) to the closure of Fessenheim’s two reactors (each generating 900 MW).  [84]

The Fessenheim­Flamanville trade-off

45The cap on nuclear production capacity offered a way to circumvent regulatory obstacles, but also introduced further uncertainty over the fulfillment of the campaign pledge. First, the fact that no individual power station was named in the law opened it up to every conceivable interpretation; in effect, EDF could decide to close any reactor it chose. Energy Minister Ségolène Royal may have declared that “when Flamanville opens, Fessenheim will have to close,”  [85] but EDF had no qualms about muddying the waters further by suggesting the possibility of a different choice. At the same time, preserving the Fessenheim name, apart from any financial considerations, would allow EDF to fulfill its obligations towards local actors and employees.  [86]

46The second source of uncertainty relates to the timetable. Construction work on the Flamanville EPR had been drastically delayed (something of which the government was already aware in 2013)  [87] and the reactor was not expected to enter production before 2018. By tying the closure of Fessenheim to the new EPR, the executive forced itself to reformulate Hollande’s campaign promise. It was no longer a question of closing Fessenheim before the government left office, but of triggering a supposedly irreversible chain of events that would lead to electricity production at the plant ceasing at some point in 2018. This new narrative, backed more or less by consensus, can be seen in the words of Ségolène Royal: “As soon as two new reactors are ready to open, two old reactors will have to close by the 2018 deadline, which effectively means that this process will need to begin next year [2016] in order to respect the needs of individuals and local areas [...] It will be irreversible by the end of the five-year term, that is for certain.”  [88]

47Hollande, too, directly invoked this trade-off when asked about the 2016 deadline: “Not in 2016, no, because work on the EPR at Flamanville (Manche) has been significantly delayed [editor’s note: it is currently scheduled to begin production in 2022]. What matters though is to set everything in motion for the closure of Fessenheim. That’s what we’re doing. In that sense, you could call it irreversible.”  [89]

48This strategy of hinging the commissioning of the Flamanville EPR on the closure of the Fessenheim plant offered a number of advantages. Most obviously, it strengthened the government’s hand in its negotiations with EDF, which was placed under heightened pressure to begin the decommissioning process. In the meantime, the order authorizing the construction of the EPR actually expired, and the government would need to extend it. Politically speaking, this solution also benefited from solid support within the executive. At the same time, it had the effect of, if not clouding the message, then at least watering down the commitment. Reformulating the promise in this way made it easier to claim that it had been fulfilled or, at worst, was in the process of being fulfilled. Still, two problematic issues remained: adhering to the timetable and ensuring the irreversibility of the process, as emphasized by the executive. These problems would be addressed in the LTCEV through a discrete amendment to the procedures for decommissioning a basic nuclear facility.

Uncoupling decommissioning and dismantlement in pursuit of “irreversibility”

49The steps involved in decommissioning and dismantling a nuclear power station required a detailed plan, a public inquiry, and a directive from the ASN. Unless this process was reformed, it would therefore be impossible to fully deliver on the promise to close Fessenheim, even in its new guise, within the stated time frame. Indeed, ASN estimated that “five years must be allowed from the point when the operator begins work on its plan to the decree of authorization.”  [90] So, the government’s latest maneuver was to establish a separation in the administrative process, between the operator’s announcement of the decision to decommission the plant and the filing of the dismantlement request. When the subject was raised in January 2014, the Ministry of Ecology claimed that “the decommissioning decision can be settled even if the request for dismantlement is still under examination.”  [91] The challenge, then, was to set the right wheels in motion to make a reversal of the decision impossible, thus dissuading the operator from making any attempt to recommence production in the event of a change of government in 2017.  [92] A press release issued by the Ministry for Ecology on January 15 states:

50[In] the context of deliberations in relation to the draft planning law on the energy transition, the ASN has called on Minister Philippe Martin to include certain procedural amendments to the decommissioning and dismantlement process, in order to ensure that, as a general rule, dismantlement can begin “as early as possible.” These amendments will be taken into account. In their modified form, these procedures will allow the planned timetable for the Fessenheim power station to be respected, with decommissioning taking place at the end of 2016 and dismantlement beginning in 2018­2019.  [93]

51This gambit was presented as a response to a more general request from the ASN for a review of decommissioning procedures. Most importantly, it allowed the executive to take control of the timetable, to modify the procedures of a “defensive nuclear plant”—that were “making things difficult and undermining political authority”  [94]—and, ostensibly, to keep its word. The next step would therefore be to bring forward a series of measures before the end of the presidential term that would facilitate the plant’s closure, even if it remained in operation for the time being. The government was particularly anxious to obtain a written decommissioning request from EDF, as this would allow it to publish a decree before its time in office ran out.  [95] The reactors would not actually cease production until much later, once the probable appeals lodged with the Council of State had been dealt with.

52While in theory the LTCEV gave the state new legal and political tools for upping the pressure on EDF, it still did not allow the executive to deliver on its campaign promise, even in its revised form. This was due both to the watered-down version of the commitment enshrined in the text and to the state’s powerlessness to impose that commitment and its timetable on EDF.

EDF’s stalling tactics

54EDF only committed to “concentrate solely on the closure of Fessenheim” in October 2015 (i.e., more than three years after President Hollande took office), when required to ask the government to extend the decree authorizing the construction of the Flamanville EPR. In doing so, the company made full use of the statutory periods available to it. The original decree, valid for ten years, was due to expire on April 10, 2017. Article 187 of the LTCEV provides that any application for an operating license must be made at least eighteen months before the decree authorizing construction expires. After ASN rejected EDF’s application for an operating license in March 2015, the company lodged a request with the government for an extension to the EPR commissioning deadline only on October 9, 2015. In other words, it waited until the very last minute. A new government decree was subsequently issued, setting a new time frame of thirty-six months, i.e., up to April 2020. It stipulated that an application for an operating license must be submitted by October 10, 2018, at the latest. These new deadlines correspond exactly to the delays announced by EDF in September 2015, according to which the EPR would not become operational until late 2018.

55In May 2016, Ségolène Royal wrote to the CEO of EDF, Jean-Barnard Lévy, proposing compensation of 100 million euros. She ended by urging the company to begin practical discussions on closing the plant:

56The dialogue between EDF and the government only really began with Royal’s letter, which cited a compensation figure of 80 to 100 million euros [...] At that point, the board decided to set up an ad hoc group of directors that would act as prospective advisers and determine the sum that EDF considered adequate compensation for its losses [...] The letter was intended to force EDF, finally, to come up with proposals toward decommissioning Fessenheim.  [97]

57From that moment on, the request to revoke Fessenheim’s operating license (known as an AAE) began to appear on the CCE’s agenda. While both EDF and the unions emphasized the “standard” time frame needed to prepare documentation for the CCE,  [98] Royal’s correspondence conveys her surprise that procedures were not yet under way.

58EDF’s tactic here was to turn the various time scales and procedures to its strategic advantage, so as to delay its request to cease production at Fessenheim until after the 2017 election. The issue was included in the CCE’s agenda for June 2016: “[E]verything was pushed back so that the decision would be made in December” (by a vote taken among the board of directors).  [99] However, when the CCE met on September 14, 2016, the elected members voted for an external expert review of the plan to close Fessenheim. In light of the October 29 deadline, on October 5 they also requested an interim order to extend the time available for consultation.

59On October 14, EDF’s senior management team passed the supporting documentation to the CCE and began to obstruct consultation with the Committee for Health, Safety, and Working Conditions (CHSCT). On November 10, the court examined the CCE’s request and decided to extend the consultation period by two months. The board of directors would therefore be unable to make a decision on Fessenheim before January 2017: right in the middle of the next presidential campaign. One of the individuals involved in this process sums up the situation as follows: “Jean-Barnard Levy, in more or less tacit collaboration with the unions, made sure that the extension was as long as possible so that no decision could be taken before the next election.”  [100]

EDF corporate governance: A spanner in the works

60While the CCE’s procedures allowed EDF to pursue this temporizing strategy, the board of directors was another key source of institutional resistance to the Fessenheim closure. The board was made up of eighteen members:  [101] six employee representatives (who would argue against the closure); six government representatives appointed by decree (very unlikely to vote on the issue of compensation due to conflict of interest);  [102] and six independent directors proposed by the state and elected during the general shareholders’ meeting. The latter group have a variable voting record. While put forward by the state and retaining certain connections to ministerial offices, they tend to vote along sectoral lines and will always protect the financial interests of their company. Laurence Parisot, former president of MEDEF (the largest French employers’ association) spoke out against the proposals for a new nuclear reactor at Hinkley Point in the UK at the board’s July 2016 meeting, siding with staff representatives against the government.

61Moreover, the CEO appears to play a decisive role in the independent group’s voting decisions. According to one EDF director: “If Jean-Barnard Levy was involved in negotiations with the state, which he has been, and managed to reach a modus vivendi [...] [the rest] would depend on the extent to which he was willing to use his powers of persuasion with the other independent directors to get them to vote in one direction or another.”  [104]

62Here, it is worth noting the very close relationships between board members, the civil service, and the broader nuclear industry, which could contribute to the inertia against the closure of a reactor. In 2016, EDF’s independent directors were: the chair of the board at Vallourec, 100% owner of Valinox, the market leader in the manufacture of certain nuclear reactor components; Philippe Varin (until May 2016), chair of the board at Areva; and Colette Lewiner, who had worked for EDF for twelve years. Their closeness hardened the board’s opposition to a pledge that, in their view, risked opening a Pandora’s box by raising direct questions about the cost of dismantling a 900 MW reactor and how the fuels and waste products would be dealt with.

63The government’s efforts to provide guidelines to EDF management were being shot down as soon as the matter appeared on the board’s agenda. It was mainly to overcome this obstacle that the Ministry of Ecology made sure that its representative on the EDF board of directors—Pierre-Marie Abadie, energy director at the Directorate-General for Energy and Climate (DGEC)—was appointed as a government commissioner. This change was intended to “reinforce the place of the state in corporate governance [...] putting it in a position where it was able to get an item on the agenda.”  [105] However, this move still did not allow the government to get the closure of Fessenheim on the board’s agenda until June 2016.

64Furthermore, to date neither the EDF board of directors nor the National Assembly’s parliamentary commission have been given access to data that would allow the plant’s profitability to be quantified. So, despite the state’s efforts to strengthen its influence inside EDF, it was in no better a position to impose its will and timetable on the company: “The state is not involved in management. The state is not the one that writes the reports; we haven’t even seen the plans. EDF controls everything; it’s up to the company to prepare the paperwork.”  [106] This lack of agency was not, however, solely attributable to EDF’s strategic maneuvers. It also stemmed from a certain frailty in the government’s position, given that its aims were less solid and coherent than the company’s.

A fragmented executive with disparate goals

65Officially, no government minister can contravene a pledge made by the president. However, that is not to say that all governmental actors attach the same importance to that pledge, nor that they share the president’s view. Such misalignment between the head of state (who had expressed his desire to keep his promise on multiple occasions) and his government became apparent, for example, during discussions surrounding the appointment of EDF’s new CEO. Although the relevant ministries had approved the reappointment of Henri Proglio, the chief architect of the persistent campaign to frustrate decisions relating to nuclear power, Hollande ultimately argued against it, the sole dissenter. This provides further evidence of his intention to repoliticize the energy sector.  [107] Within the government, two successive economy ministers, Arnaud Montebourg and Emmanuel Macron, were clearly much less invested in this issue than the president,  [108] or, for that matter, the ecology ministers, particularly Ségolène Royal, who was eventually put in charge of negotiations with EDF.

66This made the state’s position even more precarious, and compromised the government’s attempts to issue guidelines to EDF, an exchange generally conducted through the Ministry for the Economy in Bercy. While letters of intent addressed to EDF were signed by three ministers, directives from the Ministry for the Economy (responsible to shareholders) take precedence over those from the Ministry of Ecology (responsible for sectoral interests), in accordance with EDF’s structure as a société anonyme (public limited company).  [109] Consequently, instructions to government representatives on the EDF board were issued by the French Government Shareholding Agency (APE), which reports to the Ministry for the Economy. By mid-2016, only one APE briefing had been sent to these board members ahead of the vote. On subsequent conference calls, “the Minister for Energy [was] invited just like all the other directors but was not a co-organizer [...] Viriginie Schwarz, the commissioner to the government, was there, and someone from the DGEC was also invited. But it was Bercy [i.e., the Ministry for the Economy] running the meeting.”  [110]

67In addition to these unequal power relations between ministries, various internal conflicts worked to undermine the government’s ability to build a consensus behind the closure. First, there was the dual role of the Ministry for the Economy, split between the Government Shareholding Agency—represented on EDF’s board of directors and predominantly concerned with the company’s dividend payments—and the Finance Ministry, responsible for ensuring that the promised compensation would not overstrain the government’s budget. The ministry was therefore “the one that writes the check, and who would rather that check wasn’t too large, and the one that will cash it in the form of dividends, all the while making sure that EDF is not left penniless.”  [111] This dichotomy can also be observed in statements made by Ségolène Royal. While responsible for working to achieve the legal objective of reducing reliance on nuclear power to 50%, Royal approved a proposal that power stations should be depreciated over fifty years, to deny EDF the prospect of claiming compensation after decommissioning. For its part, EDF was fully aware of these tensions. Against a backdrop of safety scares and falling electricity prices, it may be in the company’s own interest to close certain reactors while attempting to shift the financial burden onto the state, on the pretext that such decisions are “political.”  [112]

68The understanding reached between the Ministry of Ecology and the APE/Ministry for the Economy over the mechanism for capping nuclear production capacity,  [113] in addition to the agreement eventually struck in August 2016 between EDF and the government, seemed to give political actors what Kent R. Weaver would call a new “blame avoidance” tool—namely, the strategy of “passing the buck,” whereby a decision is postponed and the associated costs (political or economic) are passed on to successors.  [114] The compensation protocol, set by negotiation at 446 million euros, stipulates that the state will pay EDF a first installment of 100 million euros when the plant is decommissioned in 2019, with a second installment (of around 300 million euros) released the following year.  [115]

69Nevertheless, the agreement did not allow the government to bring the matter to a close, nor to keep its promise to the electorate, even in its amended form, because it would always come up against resistance from EDF. Admittedly, EDF’s board of directors did eventually approve the protocol on January 24, 2017, despite a contrary advisory opinion passed earlier by the CCE. Ségolène Royal was therefore able to congratulate herself on a “fair and balanced decision,” “within the established time frame and with a deadline coinciding with the opening of Flamanville.”  [116]?However, it is difficult to conclude that the pledge was truly fulfilled, and the ambiguity introduced by its new formulation bears all the signs of a stalemate that refuses to end. For one thing, EDF reinforced the link between the closure of the Fessenheim plant and the EPR at Flamanville, thus making the timetable for decommissioning Fessenheim contingent on the commencement of production at the new reactor in Normandy. For another, at the last minute the company added an additional demand: the resumed operation of a reactor at the Paluel facility, stalled since 2015 amid safety concerns.  [117] With Reactor 1 closed for maintenance since July 23, 2017, and Reactor 2 on shutdown following a malfunction, the Fessenheim plant was due to recommence production in Spring 2018, a year after François Hollande left office.

70By retracing the origins of the commitment to close the Fessenheim nuclear power station, and the difficulties that the executive encountered in attempting to do so, this paper confirms the importance of a thorough analysis of the conditions in which a campaign promise is made if we are to understand the logics influencing its fulfillment.

71First, the pledge came about as the result of strategic positioning and electoral calculation on the part of a presidential candidate bound by recent events within his party. It allowed François Hollande to rally a broad coalition behind him, by facilitating an agreement with the French green party, EELV, during pre-election negotiations. This agreement put him in a stronger position to benefit from vote transfers in the second round. The commitment is therefore better understood as a “vote- and office-seeking” tactic rather than a “policy-seeking” one. The media exposure that Hollande’s promise attracted during the campaign seems to have taken on a life of its own. The promise itself was not particularly consistent with his initial stated aspirations as president, nor with those of the majority of his government. Moreover, the EELV, as partners in the majority coalition, lacked the necessary institutional and political capacity to hold the executive to its word. Their influence was weakened further by their resignation from government halfway through the term. All indications suggest that the incentives created by Hollande’s strategic decision to push for the closure were too short-lived for the promise to be kept.

72Consequently, it is not as surprising as it might first appear that the executive found itself powerless to order a company, a société anonyme in which the state is the majority shareholder, to decommission the “oldest nuclear power station in France.” The government’s inability to deliver on its commitment was exacerbated by conflicting logics and time scales in the electoral and public policy spheres, with the latter ultimately prevailing. In its efforts to fulfill the promise, the executive quickly came up against resistance from dominant economic and technical actors within a public policy arena where sectoral autonomy has become something of an obsession. As far as energy is concerned, especially nuclear energy, political institutions seem to hold little sway in the face of strictly independent sectoral bodies like the ASN and EDF.

73Nonetheless, the fact that the executive gave up on getting its way was not merely the result of an institutional division of labor. It can also be attributed to the way the government leveraged the obstacles in its path to delay the prospect of closing the plant, to put forward a significantly reformulated version of the pledge over the course of its term in office, and, ultimately, to justify its failure to keep its word. The executive’s capacity to implement policy decisions, particularly in an institutional respect, is largely determined by governance arrangements in the relevant sector. However, the limitations on that capacity are not as rigid, clear-cut, and extrinsic as political leaders would have us believe—even when those leaders fail to keep their promises.

74By studying the non-fulfillment of a campaign promise, we can learn a great deal about the criteria for realization of these promises. First, it gives us a deeper understanding of the role of coalitions in the success (or failure) of this process. Up until now, this question has primarily been considered in terms of the institutional constraints that coalitions impose. Coalitions have generally been understood only as a limiting factor on the capacity of the leader of the executive to keep their promises. This paper demonstrates however that participating in a coalition, particularly when this requires pre-electoral discussions on policy matters, is an equally powerful influence when it comes to honoring political promises. There is a qualitative difference between a promise made as a concession to a coalition partner and one that derives from the core policy objectives of a candidate and his or her party. Accounting for this fundamental difference seems like a promising line of inquiry for future studies.

75This paper also offers a reminder that the institutional capacity to keep promises is a valid variable for analysis, and an opportunity to bring a fresh perspective to the literature on promise keeping. Much variation in this capacity depends on the sector to which a policy applies, and so we cannot assume that a substantial majority in government will translate into strong institutional capacity in every case. It is also a function of politicians’ strategies, which can expand or reduce their own scope of action, including in regulatory and institutional matters. This conclusion urges us to pay very close attention to the reality of these institutional constraints, and to draw a distinction between what is effectively a sectoral constraint and the avoidance and blame-shifting strategies employed by politicians.  [118]