As Socialist pressure mounts on Prime Minister Sébastien Lecornu, business titans denounce a 2% levy on fortunes above €100 million; supporters say it could raise billions and restore tax fairness.

PARIS — France’s business elite have launched a blistering campaign against a left‑wing proposal to impose a new annual levy on the country’s largest fortunes, branding the measure “insane” and even “communist” as political pressure builds on President Emmanuel Macron’s freshly appointed prime minister, Sébastien Lecornu, to close a widening budget gap without swinging the axe on public services.

At the center of the storm is a plan backed by the Socialist Party and inspired by economist Gabriel Zucman: a 2% yearly tax on worldwide assets above €100 million. The levy would cover major shareholdings, company ownership stakes and other financial assets—capturing what backers argue are unrealized gains that allow the ultra‑wealthy to accumulate wealth while paying proportionally less than average taxpayers. Supporters say the measure targets roughly 1,800 households and could deliver a double‑digit billion‑euro boost to the public purse.

No figure has galvanized the debate like Bernard Arnault, the LVMH chief and Europe’s richest man, who called the push “a clearly stated desire to destroy the French economy.” His remarks, echoed by other prominent entrepreneurs and venture investors, sharpened a culture‑war‑tinged fight over whether a higher levy on the ultra‑rich is smart deficit policy—or a recipe for capital flight, slower investment and fewer start‑ups.

The politics are stark. France’s deficit, now estimated above 5% of GDP, has become the euro zone’s ugliest fiscal headache. After a turbulent summer and an uneasy National Assembly, Socialist leaders have signaled they could withhold support for the government’s 2026 budget unless new revenue measures ask significantly more from the wealthiest. That gives the left an immediate lever over Mr. Lecornu, a Macron loyalist, just weeks into his tenure at Matignon.

For the government, the stakes are existential. Should the prime minister fail to assemble a workable majority around a budget, he risks a confidence vote that could topple his cabinet. For the left, the moment is a test of whether public anger over the cost of living and perceived tax unfairness can translate into structural change after years of pro‑business reforms.

The Zucman blueprint is both technically simple and politically explosive. By setting the threshold at €100 million, it exempts almost all households while still touching vast family fortunes—many of which are bound up in company shares. Proponents insist the levy is calibrated to be difficult to avoid, whether assets are held in France or abroad, using strengthened reporting obligations and anti‑evasion tools already deployed against offshore tax shelters. They argue that the richest taxpayers have enjoyed declining effective tax rates as capital income and unrealized gains outpace salaries.

Critics counter that the measure would be uniquely damaging to France’s business model, particularly for founders and scale‑up executives whose wealth is largely illiquid. They warn that imposing a mark‑to‑market‑style levy could force sales of strategic stakes, sap investment, and push the most mobile entrepreneurs to decamp to friendlier jurisdictions. “You cannot tax paper wealth as if it were cash,” one Paris venture investor said, adding that a downturn could leave taxpayers facing bills on assets that later slump in value.

Mr. Arnault framed the battle in ideological terms, describing the tax as an assault on the “liberal economy” and dismissing its intellectual architect as a “pseudo‑academic” advancing anti‑market dogma. That drew a sharp riposte from Mr. Zucman, who said the proposal rests on empirical evidence about how little the ultra‑rich pay relative to their capacity and on growing international interest in harmonized wealth taxation. The economist argues the levy would restore fairness and help fund public goods without touching the middle class.

Polling suggests the public mood favors the left. A recent survey indicated overwhelming support—well above four‑fifths of respondents—for a new tax on the ultra‑rich. The numbers have stiffened Socialist resolve and spooked business groups, which fear that once a wealth levy returns to the statute books it will be politically difficult to roll back, even if the expected windfall fails to materialize.

France has been here before. Mr. Macron’s first term scrapped the old solidarity wealth tax (ISF) in 2018, replacing it with a narrower levy on real estate holdings (IFI). The move, aimed at encouraging investment and anchoring fortunes in France, remains one of the president’s most controversial decisions. To critics, the latest proposal amounts to a repudiation of Macronomics; to supporters, it is a pragmatic response to fiscal stress and widening inequality.

How much money is really at stake is the key unknown. Backers cite estimates of €15–€20 billion a year—enough to begin narrowing the deficit and protect priority spending. Detractors say behavioral responses would shrink the base, reducing the take to closer to €5 billion while imposing heavy compliance costs and chilling investment. Some constitutional lawyers also warn that taxing unrealized gains could face legal challenges unless crafted with exceptional care.

In Matignon and Bercy, officials are exploring middle‑ground options: a temporary surcharge to address the deficit spike; a phased‑in rate with deferral mechanisms for illiquid holdings; or a narrower “minimum tax” aimed at ensuring effective rates for the ultra‑rich do not fall below those of salaried workers. Any compromise would still need to survive the Assembly arithmetic—and the court of public opinion.

Meanwhile, boardrooms are modeling scenarios. Luxury groups fear a drag on Paris’s status as a global headquarters capital; tech founders warn of a talent exodus just as France’s start‑up scene has matured; family‑owned industrial champions say they could be forced to restructure ownership. Bankers report a flurry of calls about relocation and estate planning—though some concede that the political theater could yet culminate in a softer, time‑limited measure.

For ordinary French people, the symbolism may matter as much as the sums. After years of belt‑tightening rhetoric and bruising debates over pensions and purchasing power, a highly visible contribution from billionaires could be politically cathartic. The risk, as opponents see it, is that a dramatic gesture spooks investors, dampens growth and ultimately erodes the very revenues the state seeks to protect.

With the budget calendar accelerating, Mr. Lecornu faces a binary choice: defy the left and risk a crisis, or embrace some form of wealth levy and hope markets—and the Élysée’s business allies—do not recoil. Either path carries hazards for a minority government presiding over a fragile economy and a fractious Assembly. The debate over who should pay, and how much, is set to define France’s political autumn.

As tempers flare, one conclusion is inescapable: the question of taxing extreme wealth has moved from academic seminars to the heart of French power. Whether the final outcome resembles a bold redistributive turn or a carefully hedged compromise, the fight has already reopened a deeper argument about fairness, competitiveness and the social contract in a country that has long sought to reconcile them.

Reporting based on interviews and statements through September 22, 2025. Key sources include Reuters, France 24, The Guardian and other outlets covering the Arnault–Zucman exchange and the government’s budget deliberations.