In this insightful commentary, Dr. Oludele Solaja reconceptualizes recurrent flooding in Nigeria as a site of political contestation rather than merely an environmental crisis. Introducing the concept of “everyday environmental populism,” the piece shows how lived experiences of disaster, unequal relief, and institutional failure generate bottom-up political claims that reshape democratic trust. Drawing on case studies from Delta, Anambra, and Niger states, the analysis demonstrates how citizens’ responses—from grassroots mobilization to digital dissent—reconfigure perceptions of state legitimacy. Situated at the intersection of environmental governance and populism studies, this commentary advances a novel framework for understanding how climate-related risks can catalyze political agency and redefine state–society relations in vulnerable democracies.
In Nigeria, recurring floods have moved beyond being environmental disaster to become political events that shape relations between citizens and states and influence democratic trust. In the context of recent floods and uneven relief, this commentary introduces a new political concept-everyday environmental populism-to conceptualize citizens’ bottom-up political claims rooted in everyday experience of environmental hazards, institutional inadequacies, and inequitable disaster relief delivery.
In contrast to elite-driven claims, everyday environmental populism emerges from lived experiences of vulnerability in the face of environmental disasters and from citizen-centered complaints about institutional shortcomings, which in turn generate bottom-up political dynamics. The states of Delta, Anambra, and Niger provide illustrative case studies, showing how floods stimulate civic engagement, trigger institutional critique, and reshape popular evaluations of state legitimacy.
Situated within the broader frameworks of environmental governance, climate security, and democratic legitimacy, this commentary argues that flood disasters are transformative political events that generate bottom-up agency in Nigeria. It also discusses the implications for policy and academia, as well as for community-led resilience in environmentally vulnerable contexts.
Conceptualizing Everyday Environmental Populism
In Nigeria, devastating floods recur, with the 2022 floods alone displacing more than 1.4 million people and wreaking widespread damage to infrastructure, livelihood and housing (Agbiboa, 2024; Solaja et al., 2020). More than mere destruction, they represent the confluence of environmental hazard and political accountability. Political response—how it is delivered, and how resources and infrastructure are distributed and allocated—serves as a barometer of the state’s democratic legitimacy. Existing research has already linked environmental hazards such as recurrent floods to public critique, collective agency, and political attitudes (Obatunde, Akanle, & Solaja, 2025; Barnett, 2001; Dalby, 2013).
Populism research has generally focused on elite-led constructions opposing “the people” to “the elite” (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017). Extending this tradition, the concept of everyday environmental populism is introduced here as “citizens’ collective understanding and articulation of political claims shaped by their experiences and interpretations of environmental risk, disaster-relief inequalities, and institutional failures” (Solaja et al., 2020; Solaja, 2025). While elite populism is framed against political actors/elites, the idea of everyday environmental populism foregrounds ordinary citizens whose everyday experiences of vulnerability lead to complaints and grassroots political action which then fuels the distrust against political figures.
This conception centers on the agency of citizens, as they challenge the political status quo, express their expectations for accountable and equitable disaster responses and seek state actions beyond the traditional structures of politics (Obadare, 2020; Solaja, 2025).
Figure 1: Everyday Environmental Populism: How Flood Catches Political Capital.
This diagram illustrates how floods trigger citizens’ responses and shape political opinions, ultimately influencing levels of public trust in the state and in its policy formulation.
Floods and Democratic Trust in Nigeria
Repeated floods expose critical failings in Nigeria’s disaster response and governance structures, thereby politicizing environmental disasters (Adebayo, 2018; Agbiboa, 2024). More broadly, the scale of such disasters can undermine citizens’ confidence in political institutions (Barnett, 2001; Dalby, 2013).
In Nigeria, successive floods have consistently triggered similar public reactions, as affected citizens cope with material losses while evaluating the adequacy of government responses. When state intervention is inconsistent, delayed, or inequitable, declining democratic trust leads citizens to rely on community-based assistance or to express dissent through social media, public meetings, and civil society organizations (Solaja et al., 2020; Solaja, 2025). Even prior to state involvement, citizens often self-organize, cultivating forms of autonomous political agency that can, in turn, shape public perceptions of state legitimacy (Obatunde, Akanle, & Solaja, 2025).
Citizens’ Response and Political Opinion
As illustrated in Figure 1, community mobilization in the initial stages of a flood event constitutes the foundation of everyday environmental populism, as citizen-led relief and response processes shape public political opinion and perceptions of the state’s democratic credentials. Grassroots relief initiatives often emerge in response to the absence or inadequacy of state intervention. In flood-affected areas, community leaders frequently assume responsibility for organizing shelters, disseminating alerts, and mobilizing local volunteers to assist victims, thereby demonstrating forms of self-reliance in disaster management (Solaja et al., 2020; Solaja, 2025).
These actions are inherently political, as they prompt evaluations of state responsiveness, challenge governmental priorities, and articulate demands for accountability. The internet serves as a platform where individual grievances coalesce into collective claims, transforming environmental crises into indicators of trust in the democratic system. In this sense, they exemplify everyday environmental populism, with citizens initiating forms of political mobilization from below (Obadare, 2020; Solaja, 2025).
Policy and Governance Challenges
It is crucial to address floods as political problems requiring preventive, equitable, and citizen-oriented governance. Such response mechanisms should include robust early warning systems, as well as transparent processes for the disbursement of funds and the allocation of resources to affected communities (International Rescue Committee & EU, 2025; Barnett, 2001; Solaja et al., 2020). Neglecting governance dimensions of disaster risk management fuels citizen distrust and intensifies public discontent. Conversely, equitable relief and fair governance can reinforce the legitimacy of democratic institutions (Dalby, 2013; Solaja, 2025).
Scholarly and Theoretical Contribution
The contribution of this commentary to populism studies and environmental governance lies in framing environmental disasters as triggers of political contestation. Through the concept of everyday environmental populism, it argues that lived experiences of disaster—driven by environmental threats—can empower citizens with the agency to resist injustice and challenge governmental actions (Solaja et al., 2020; Obadare, 2020).
The concept calls for further research into how environmental hazards shape citizens’ political attitudes and how such bottom-up agency influences the democratic legitimacy of state structures. Beyond political dynamics, it also intersects with debates on sustainability and the circular economy, opening new avenues for community-based initiatives—such as recycling plastic into productive materials through projects like EcoBalls and other entrepreneurial models (Solaja, 2025).
Conclusion: Politics in the Water
Floods are not merely natural disasters; in Nigeria, they constitute defining political events that shape the relationship between the state and its citizens, as well as perceptions of governmental legitimacy and responsiveness. The way citizens interpret state responses influences their assessment of whether democratic governance can deliver efficient, accountable services and provide support in times of crisis. Everyday environmental populism offers a useful framework for understanding these dynamics, highlighting how citizens’ responses are shaped by their exposure to environmental threats and by perceived inadequacies in governmental management (Solaja et al., 2020; Obadare, 2020).
There is a need to strengthen anticipatory governance, integrate citizen participation into flood management, and ensure that relief resources reach affected communities without being filtered through partisan interests. From an academic perspective, more extensive research is required to examine the political impacts of environmental hazards on mobilization, citizenship, and the pursuit of democratic accountability in flood-prone societies worldwide (Solaja et al., 2020; Obadare, 2020; Barnett, 2001).
References
Adebayo, B. (2018). “Nigeria overtakes India in extreme poverty ranking.” CNN.
Agbiboa, D. E. (2024). “Deep waters: Flooding and the climate of suffering in Nigeria.” PS: Political Science & Politics.
Barnett, J. (2001). The meaning of environmental security: Ecological politics and the United Nations. London: Zed Books.
International Rescue Committee & EU. (2025). Strengthening flood preparedness in Nigeria.
Mudde, C., & Rovira Kaltwasser, C. (2017). Populism: A very short introduction. Oxford University Press.
Obadare, E. (2020). Everyday politics in Africa: Publics, grievances, and popular engagement. Cambridge University Press.
Obatunde, B. A., Akanle, O., & Solaja, O. M. et al. (2025). “Doing sociology in Nigeria.” International Journal of Sociology, 16(1), 14–26. https://doi.org/10.13169/ijs.16.1.0014
Solaja, M.O., Awobona S., & Adekanbi, O.O. (2020). “Knowledge and practice of recycled plastic bottles (RPB) built homes for sustainable community-based housing projects in Nigeria.” Cogent Social Sciences, 6(1), 1778914. https://doi.org/10.1080/23311886.2020.1778914
Solaja, O.M. (2025). “EcoBall as a sport-based intervention for community engagement, behavioural change, and sustainable solutions to plastic pollution.” Discovery Environment, 3, 186. https://doi.org/10.1007/s44274-025-00347-y
In this timely commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias examines how recent parliamentary debates on gender identity in Portugal signal the consolidation of culture-war politics within the legislative arena. Moving beyond the technicalities of legal reform, the analysis shows how competing moral frameworks—centered on “non-negotiable values”—are reshaping political conflict and generating affective polarization. The 20 March 2026 vote reveals a coordinated right-wing effort to reframe gender as a matter of state authority and child protection, while opponents view it as a rollback of rights. Situated within broader debates on populism and cultural backlash, this piece highlights the growing centrality of symbolic politics in contemporary European democracies.
Debates on gender identity in Portugal have brought to the fore one of the core logics of contemporary culture wars: the notion of non-negotiable values, rooted in deeply held ethical commitments and/or religious beliefs. Precisely because these values are framed as non-negotiable, they tend to generate what the literature describes as “affective polarization,” thereby intensifying the conditions for culture-war politics.
The Event
On 20 March 2026, Portugal’s right-wing parliamentary parties secured approval in principle for three bills on gender identity, tabled by Chega, CDS-PP, and PSD. All three passed with the support of PSD, Chega, and CDS-PP, while the opposition bloc — Socialist Party (PS), Liberal Initiative, Livre, Communist Party, BE (Left Bloc), PAN (Party of Animals and Nature), and JPP (an Azorian new party) — voted against. A separate Left Bloc proposal was rejected at the same stage.
What was approved is not yet final law, but it marks a clear attempt to reverse the framework established by Law No. 38/2018, which enshrined self-determination in the legal recognition of gender identity. The core shift is the reintroduction of medical validation for changing name and sex in the civil registry, replacing the current model based on self-identification. In political terms, the vote signals a coordinated right-wing effort to re-medicalize legal gender recognition and to reframe the issue not primarily as a question of individual autonomy, but of state oversight and child protection.
The CDS-PP bill goes further, proposing to ban puberty blockers and hormonal treatment for minors under 18 when used in the context of gender incongruence or gender dysphoria. Chega’s proposal, meanwhile, explicitly frames the revision in terms of the “protection of children and young people.” For supporters, these initiatives are presented as corrective safeguards; for opponents, they represent a rollback of rights, a renewed pathologization of trans identities, and a moral panic translated into lawmaking.
Crucially, however, the parliamentary vote of 20 March was only a first reading. Approval “in principle” means that the bills now move to committee, where they will be debated and amended in detail before any final overall vote. Only after that stage could a final text proceed to presidential promulgation or constitutional review and, eventually, publication in the Diário da República. The immediate significance, then, is political rather than juridical: the Portuguese right has opened a legislative offensive against the country’s existing gender identity framework, but the legal outcome remains unsettled.
The Context
For a long time, Portugal was portrayed as a country immune to populism. However, as Zúquete (2022) has shown, contrary to that illusion of “exceptionalism,” Portugal has experienced different types of populist solutions, from charismatic military figures to mainstream political actors, especially during the 1990s, when CDS-PP — the Christian-democratic party — began to articulate a low-intensity version of Camus’s “great replacement” thesis.
In fact, to understand this debate and political decision, it is necessary to frame it within a long tradition of culture wars in Portugal. As I argued in my book (Ferreira Dias, 2025), debates on moral values are part of the Portuguese political fabric, as illustrated by the so-called Revolta da Maria da Fonte (Maria da Fonte’s Revolt) in the nineteenth century, a popular uprising against heavy taxation on rural communities and the ban on burials in churches for public-health reasons.
However, the most critical topics of debate in Portugal are colonial memory and national self-esteem, both linked to the myth of the “good colonizer” (v.g. Cardina, 2025; Smith, 2025; Vala, Lopes & Lima, 2008). The so-called “lusotropicalism” produced a form of self-esteem grounded in the myth of colonial exceptionalism, that is, the supposedly distinctive Portuguese capacity to mix with native populations and to produce a mulato community free of racism.
With the emergence of postcolonial and critical studies, and of the Epistemologies of the South (Sousa Santos, 2016), there emerged a generation of Portuguese academics and activists who questioned those assumptions, giving greater room to the subalternized voices of history.
While this postcolonial, postmodern and critical generation gained space in Portuguese universities, global social changes were also taking place, with the rise of the so-called woke culture and a subsequent global response labelled “cultural backlash” (Norris & Inglehart, 2019).
A widespread paranoia gained ground in Western societies around the idea of “cultural Marxism,” helping to consolidate a radical right that claimed to be conservative while often operating in reactionary and illiberal registers, through populist leaders such as Donald Trump, Jair Bolsonaro, and Viktor Orbán. At the same time, parts of the left became culturally radical, hyper-moralized, and at times susceptible to symbolic forms of historical and social purification (Mounk, 2025; McWhorter, 2021).
The struggle between this “conservative moral majority” and “progressivist morality” has accelerated culture wars. This context, together with the moral panic surrounding globalization, helps explain how Chega rose so quickly in Portugal — a country where cultural backlash, in many respects, arrived before woke culture acquired real social depth.
The Proper Debate
Paulo Núncio is one of the most visible CDS-PP deputies in this debate. He is well known for his ultraconservative positions and his opposition to woke culture. As coauthor of the CDS-PP bill on puberty blockers and hormonal treatment for minors, he is not initiating a new line of intervention but rather reaffirming a longstanding political agenda: for years, he has been one of the clearest exponents of culture-war politics within CDS-PP, and this initiative should be read as one more moment in that broader trajectory. In that sense, the issue of gender is not merely a policy question; it becomes a privileged arena for moral and political confrontation. Núncio has come to personify this agenda: he is the most visible CDS-PP figure in the field of culture-war politics and one of the most politically consequential voices of the Portuguese right on these matters.
What matters here, however, is not only the profile of one deputy, but the wider political grammar at work. The right is increasingly learning that moral conflict mobilizes more effectively than technocratic disagreement. Gender, in this setting, functions as a condensed symbol through which parties can speak about authority, family, childhood, education, and the limits of institutional neutrality.
That is why this debate exceeds the legal content of the bills themselves. At stake is a deeper dispute over who has the authority to name social reality: the individual, the family, the clinic, the school, or the state. Once framed in these terms, the controversy ceases to be a narrow disagreement over administrative procedure and becomes a struggle over moral sovereignty. This is the true grammar of culture wars: not distributive conflict, but symbolic boundary-making.
In Portugal, this grammar is still relatively recent in parliamentary form, but it is no longer marginal. What happened on 20 March 2026 suggests that the Portuguese right now sees legislative action on gender not as an isolated intervention, but as part of a broader attempt to reorganize the national moral agenda. Whether that attempt will prevail in law remains uncertain; that it has already shifted the political center of gravity is much harder to deny.
References
Applebaum, A. (2021). Twilight of democracy: The seductive lure of authoritarianism. Vintage.
de Sousa Santos, B. (2016). Epistemologies of the South: Justice against epistemicide. Routledge.
Ferreira Dias, J. (2025). Guerras culturais: Os ódios que nos incendeiam e como vencê-los. Guerra & Paz.
McWhorter, J. (2021). Woke racism: How a new religion has betrayed Black America. Portfolio.
Mounk, Y. (2025). The identity trap: A story of ideas and power in our time. Penguin Books.
Norris, P., & Inglehart, R. (2019). Cultural backlash: Trump, Brexit, and authoritarian populism. Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/9781108595841
Smith, H. (2025). “Many races – one nation: Racial non-discrimination always the cornerstone of Portugal’s overseas policy.” In: C. Roldão, R. Lima, P. Varela, O. Raposo, & A. R. Matias (Eds.), Afroeuropeans: Identities, racism, and resistances (pp. 235–246). Routledge.
Vala, J.; Lopes, D. & Lima, M. (2008). “Black immigrants in Portugal: Luso-tropicalism and prejudice.” Journal of Social Issues, 64(2), 287–302. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-4560.2008.00562.x
Zúquete, J. P. (2022). Populismo: Lá fora e cá dentro. Fundação Francisco Manuel dos Santos.
Professor Jean-Yves Camus, a leading scholar of the far right and researcher at the Observatory of Political Radicalities at the Jean Jaurès Foundation in Paris, argues that France’s 2026 municipal elections revealed more than the continued advance of the National Rally (RN): they exposed a deeper reconfiguration of the French right. In this interview with ECPS, Professor Camus shows how the RN’s local gains—57 municipalities and over 3,000 council seats—coexist with persistent weakness in major metropolitan centers. More importantly, he underscores that “the boundary between the mainstream and the radical right is blurring locally,” particularly where segments of Les Républicains and RN voters increasingly converge. The interview offers a nuanced account of electoral realignment, selective republican resistance, and the uncertain road to 2027.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Jean-Yves Camus, a researcher at the Observatory of Political Radicalities at the Jean Jaurès Foundation in Paris, underscores that France’s 2026 municipal elections reveal not only the continued advance of the National Rally / Rassemblement National (RN) but, more importantly, a gradual reconfiguration of the right in which the lines separating mainstream conservatism and radical populism are increasingly porous at the local level.
Reflecting on what he calls a “mixed bag” outcome, Professor Camus notes that the RN has achieved “a substantial gain” by winning 57 municipalities and securing over 3,000 council seats, yet “failed in all major cities and metropolises.” This dual pattern—territorial expansion alongside persistent urban resistance—captures the paradox at the heart of contemporary French politics. While the party has consolidated its presence in “small and medium-sized cities”and in economically distressed regions such as Pas-de-Calais and Moselle, it continues to face structural limits in gentrified metropolitan centers like Paris, where “the extreme right is very weak for obvious sociological reasons.”
Yet, the most consequential development, as Professor Camus emphasizes, lies not simply in where the RN wins or loses, but in how it increasingly interacts with the broader right-wing ecosystem. In several regions, particularly along the Mediterranean corridor, “the core voters of the Conservatives… are very close to voters of the National Rally,”facilitating patterns of vote transfer and informal cooperation. This dynamic signals a shift from the once rigid cordon sanitaire toward what Professor Camus describes as a more “selective” Republican front, contingent on local contexts and strategic calculations.
The significance of Éric Ciotti’s victory in Nice further illustrates this transformation. While rooted in the city’s longstanding conservative and post-colonial sociological profile, the result also points to a deeper convergence: “locally… the Republicans and the National Rally have platforms that are very similar.” In this sense, Ciotti’s ascent functions as both a local phenomenon and a symbolic “vitrine,” enabling the RN to present itself as part of a broader conservative continuum rather than an isolated extremist force.
At the national level, however, this convergence remains contested. Professor Camus highlights an unresolved strategic dilemma within Les Républicains, torn between maintaining ideological autonomy and pursuing alignment with the RN. As he cautions, any such coalition would likely be asymmetrical: “the dynamic is on the side of the National Rally… the agenda will be set by the National Rally.”
Taken together, the interview suggests that France is not witnessing a straightforward normalization of the far right, but rather a more complex process of political recomposition. The RN’s rise is embedded in enduring socioeconomic grievances and cultural anxieties, yet its ultimate trajectory will depend on whether the boundaries that once separated it from the mainstream right continue to erode—or are strategically reasserted—in the run-up to 2027.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Jean-Yves Camus, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
The RN Has Expanded Locally, but Still Hits a Metropolitan Ceiling
Cyclists and pedestrians take over the Champs-Élysées during Paris Car-Free Day, filling the iconic avenue from the Louvre to the Arc de Triomphe under a clear sky. Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Jean-Yves Camus, welcome, and let me start right away with the first question: The 2026 municipal elections seem to have produced a paradoxical outcome: the National Rally / Rassemblement National (RN) expanded its local footprint yet failed to secure the kind of major urban victories that would have symbolized full normalization. How should we interpret this mixed result—does it confirm the RN’s structural implantation, or does it reveal enduring sociological and territorial ceilings?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: You’re right to say that the outcome of this election is very much a mixed bag for the Rassemblement National (RN). On the one hand, they significantly increased the number of seats they gained on city councils—up to more than 3,000. They won 57 cities, which is, of course, a substantial gain compared to the 13 cities they secured in 2020. But they failed in all major cities and metropolises, with very significant losses. They expected to win Toulon and secured 42% in the first round, but ultimately did not win. Due to a consolidation of votes against the National Rally, they were also expected to seize Marseille but did not. Paris remains a territory where the extreme right is very weak, for obvious sociological reasons. It is a gentrified city, which is largely alien to the ideology of the party. So, the cities they seized are small and medium-sized. The largest is Perpignan, which they retained in the first round with just over 50%, but this is the only city with more than 100,000 inhabitants that will be in the hands of the Rassemblement National.
So, I would say there is still significant progress to be made. In view of the presidential election, winning 57 cities is a notable achievement, but when it comes to the presidency, you need votes from the main metropolises. It remains to be seen whether, in a presidential contest, the outcome will be more favorable for the party. Let us remember that city council elections are based on proportional representation, which is not the case for presidential elections. These are local votes that rely heavily on the personality of the candidate for mayor, making this a very different mode of voting, with distinct patterns. Most voters in city council elections focus on very local issues, whereas presidential elections operate on an entirely different level.
What I take from this vote is that the party has expanded its reach to many small cities where it already had a number of strongholds. For example, in the département du Pas-de-Calais, one of the former industrial areas in northern France, they were highly successful and captured more than 10 small cities with populations between 3,000 and 10,000—a significant gain. On the other hand, if you look at a department with a similar sociological profile just north of Pas-de-Calais—the département du Nord, at the border with Belgium—they did not seize any towns, contrary to expectations. This suggests that electoral success depends heavily on how well the local branches of the party are organized, the quality and performance of the candidates, and whether there is genuine local momentum.
They also performed very well in the former industrial area of Lorraine, particularly in the département of Moselle, which borders Belgium, Luxembourg, and Germany. These are areas where unemployment remains high, where we see multiple generations struggling with long-term economic insecurity, and where many people face difficulties maintaining stable and adequately paid employment. Unsurprisingly, the party performs strongly there. They also did well in the Mediterranean belt, from Perpignan at the Spanish border to Menton at the Italian border—an area where the party has long enjoyed support. However, despite failing to win Toulon or Marseille, they made a very significant gain in Nice, a major city with international appeal.
That said, it was not the Rassemblement National itself that won Nice. Rather, it was a smaller party, Les Républicains, led by Éric Ciotti, now the mayor of Nice, who identifies as a Gaullist and is working toward uniting the right ahead of 2027.
Populism in France Is Deeply Rooted, Not a Temporary Surge
You have long argued that right-wing populist parties must be understood through their specific national histories rather than as a perfectly homogeneous European bloc. In the French case, what do these local election results tell us about the specifically French configuration of populism, nationalism, and anti-elite politics in 2026?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: This situation tells us, first of all, that in most cases the Rassemblement National is still unable to build a coalition with the mainstream conservative right. In many cities, Les Républicains, the mainstream conservatives, remain strong. I think the main outcome of this election is that both Les Républicains on the right and the Socialist Party—the Social Democrats on the left—retain most of their strongholds. They are still the most important and relevant parties at the local level.
The National Rally has two options. The first is that of Marine Le Pen, who said after the vote: “My party is neither left nor right. I want to call on all people, regardless of their political affiliation, to vote for us in 2027. So, not left, not right.” The second option is that of Jordan Bardella, the new president and chairman of the party, who argues that, if they want to win in 2027, they must work toward a coalition of the right. But this coalition of the right is still very much contested from within among mainstream conservatives. Some of them, like Xavier Bertrand, chairman of the northern region of France, or Valérie Pécresse, chairperson of the Île-de-France region, argue that if they ally with the National Rally solely to defeat the left, they will probably lose their specificity. If they enter into a coalition with the National Rally, the policies of the National Rally will prevail, and they will not be able to act as the driving force in recovery.
That is a very wise analysis of the situation. If the conservative right enters into a coalition with the National Rally, the dynamic is on the side of the National Rally. Politically, the agenda will be set by the National Rally—by Le Pen or Bardella—and the conservatives will become a second-ranked partner in the coalition.
Another specificity of France is that it has a populist far-right party that has been above the 10% mark since 1984—over 40 years. Contrary to what many analysts have suggested, this is not a short-term political phenomenon. It is a structural part of political life, both at the local and national levels.
This also means that the French right, which until the 1980s had been divided between a liberal wing and a conservative wing, is now divided into three segments: a liberal, center-right one; a mainstream conservative one; and an identitarian, populist, anti-EU family. This is a major challenge.
Finally, there were elections in Denmark yesterday (March 24, 2026), and the outgoing Prime Minister, Mette Frederiksen, stated in her acceptance speech that there is a broad consensus on restricting immigration policy in Denmark, which is true. This consensus ranges from the Social Democrats to right-wing populists. In France, however, this is not the case. Immigration and asylum policies remain highly contentious issues, and there is no way the Socialist Party—the Social Democrats—can find common ground even with the mainstream conservative right. Restricting immigration and limiting the rights of asylum seekers is still associated with a small segment of the right wing of the Conservative Party, within Éric Zemmour’s party, which does not perform very well at the local level. Yet this remains central to the ideology of the National Rally. Any coalition, any cohesion of the right for 2027 will therefore have to confront these policy differences on immigration. No agreement, no coordination.
Marine and Jean-Marie Le Pen rallied during the meeting for the celebration of May 1, 2011 in Paris, France. Photo: Frederic Legrand
Blocking the RN Remains Possible, but No Longer Automatic
Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardella framed the elections as evidence of a historic breakthrough, yet the two-round system once again appeared capable of blocking the far right in key urban contests. Does the municipal vote suggest that the so-called “Republican Front” is weakened, resilient, or merely transforming into more selective and local forms?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: The so-called Republican front has become more selective. Obviously, in the southern part of the country, from Perpignan to Menton, the fan base—the core voters of the Conservative Party, the Republicans—are very close to voters of the National Rally. So they tend to transfer their votes to National Rally candidates in the second ballot because they share common ideas: mostly rejection of the left, even when it is moderate, a desire to curb immigration, and a very strong stance against what they call Islamic fundamentalism. Sometimes, the distinction between fighting Islamism and opposing Islam and Muslim immigrants becomes blurred. So, there is considerable cooperation at both the membership level and among voters between the Republicans and the National Rally.
In other cases, such as Toulon, it seems—although it is still too early to say definitively—that one of the reasons why the National Rally did not win is that the local bourgeoisie and business community had concerns about what the city would look like under National Rally governance. This is a very local situation. Toulon was won by the Front National in 1995, and the way the city was governed at the time was widely regarded as dreadful. It was a total failure, both economically and administratively. There may still be lingering negative memories from that period. You must remember that this whole area of France is heavily dependent on foreign investment and tourism, including mass tourism, with foreigners building and buying homes and condominiums, sometimes for retirement and sometimes for vacation. In such a context, how the city is perceived by outsiders—especially from other countries—is extremely important. I believe that the Rassemblement National is still not seen by these foreign investors as a fully normalized party. There remains a fear of what it might do, a fear of the future, and uncertainty about how things would look under its rule.
But this is only one example; Toulon is a very specific case. In Marseille, it was a completely different story. First of all, turnout was much higher in the second round than in the first. Secondly, the candidate from the radical left chose to withdraw, and it appears that a significant portion of his voter base supported the Socialist Party candidate in the second ballot, thereby limiting the National Rally’s chances of winning. This is particularly interesting because voters from the far left seem to have backed the Socialist candidate, despite Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the leader of the radical left La France Insoumise, being highly critical of the Socialist Party.
It, therefore, appears that left-wing voters still seek to block the National Rally from winning their cities. They may not like the Socialist Party—they may view it as too moderate, too pro-business, too pro–free market, and too strict on immigration—but when faced with a choice between the National Rally and the left, they ultimately vote for the left.
There is, therefore, still a possibility that in 2027, if Jordan Bardella or Marine Le Pen reach the second round, some form of Republican front will re-emerge to block the National Rally from winning the presidency. Why? Because Marine Le Pen remains associated with an embezzlement case involving funds from the European Parliament, and she is expected to stand trial next June. Jordan Bardella, meanwhile, is a 32-year-old, relatively inexperienced politician who has never been a mayor or a member of the National Assembly. He is a Member of the European Parliament but has never served in the National Assembly.
France still sees itself as one of the world’s major powers. It possesses nuclear weapons and plays a role in numerous international negotiations, as seen in both the Ukraine conflict and the Iran–Israel–United States tensions. Many French people may therefore feel that it is somewhat unwise to entrust such responsibility to someone who, while undoubtedly capable, lacks the necessary experience.
In 2017, France elected the youngest president in its history—Emmanuel Macron—who was only 39. By the end of Macron’s second term, many French citizens may feel that he lacked sufficient experience, as he had not been a Member of Parliament and had only briefly served as a minister. He may be seen as one of those figures from the higher administrative elite with limited experience at the grassroots level—someone who had never previously been elected—and that this, in hindsight, may have been a mistake.
Ciotti’s Victory Signals Convergence Between Republicans and the RN
How significant was Éric Ciotti’s victory in Nice for the broader right-wing ecosystem? Should we read it as an isolated local triumph shaped by personal rivalry, or as a more durable sign that the boundary between the mainstream right and the Le Pen camp is continuing to erode?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: There are two different things here. The first is the Nice election, with Éric Ciotti winning over Christian Estrosi, who had the backing of the center-right and President Macron. And then there is what it represents at the national level.
Nice has always been a very peculiar city. Back in the 1970s and 1980s, the mayor was Jacques Médecin, who was officially a center-right member of the government but was very close to the local extreme right, even before the Front National was founded in 1972. This has traditionally been a stronghold of the arch-conservative right. That was the situation before World War II, and it remained so afterward. The Gaullist movement was never very strong, especially after 1962, when Algeria was granted independence. A large number of what we call repatriés—repatriated people—settled in the area, and they were strongly opposed to de Gaulle for obvious reasons. They were also very right-wing, particularly on the issue of immigration and the Muslim population. That remains an issue to this day.
In addition, Christian Estrosi performed very poorly. You have probably heard about the many controversies that emerged during the campaign, and there are ongoing inquiries into some of them. So he is partly responsible for his own failure.
So, the election of Éric Ciotti aligns very well with the sociology of this city and with expectations for change. It also reflects the fact that, locally, between Nice and Menton, the Republicans and the National Rally have platforms that are very similar, or at least very close to each other.
At the national level, Ciotti’s party is, in a way, a Gaullist formation. Marine Le Pen and Bardella also refer to General de Gaulle when it comes to the idea of France being independent, both from the United States and from other powers. They claim to be Gaullist in their approach to relations with the European Union and in their economic policy, emphasizing a return to strong industry, and so on.
This movement, when it was launched as a splinter group from the Republicans, was both a personal project of Éric Ciotti—he wanted to achieve something he felt he could not achieve within the Republicans—and a reflection of a broader trend within the Gaullist movement to drift toward a more right-wing stance on immigration and on relations with, especially, Muslim immigration.
This group has captured several cities, such as Montauban, Vierzon, and Sablé-sur-Sarthe. These are medium-sized cities. It can serve as what we call in French a vitrine—a kind of showcase demonstrating that there is an ally which is, in fact, part of the mainstream conservative right and not burdened by the controversies that have surrounded the history of the National Front and the National Rally. So Marine Le Pen and Bardella can say: look, we have mayors from a Gaullist party, which shows that we do not belong to the extreme right. We are simply the real conservative right, while the Republicans are no longer truly conservative because they have governed alongside Macron’s ministers and are, ideologically, closer to the center-left than to traditional right-wing ideas.
Republicans Remain Strong Locally but Divided Nationally
Éric Zemmour’s election campaign, meeting in Cannes,France on January 22, 2022. Photo: Macri Roland.
At the same time, Les Républicains retained or regained a number of municipalities. Do these results indicate that the traditional right still possesses a meaningful territorial base independent of the RN, or is it increasingly being forced into a strategic choice between centrism and nationalist realignment?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: Les Républicains retain a significant base at the local level. The controversy within the Republicans concerns the presidential contest.What we have seen after the city council vote is two leaders from the Republicans, Laurent Wauquiez and Bruno Retailleau, expressing opposing views regarding the presidential election. One explanation is that both of them are, in fact, candidates for the presidency. Retailleau argues that if they retain traditional conservative ideology, and perhaps go a little further on the issue of immigration, they can still win the presidency. Wauquiez, by contrast, argues that if they remain alone as Les Républicains, they will not succeed.
So, he suggests that they already have much in common with the National Rally. What, then, are the differences between them? On this basis, he proposes organizing a primary among all right-wing candidates, from Édouard Philippe on the center-right to the National Rally, to Zemmour’s party and its candidate, who will obviously be Sarah Knafo. They would then rally behind whoever wins the primary election.
Retailleau, however, rejects this approach outright. In other words, he insists that they have nothing in common with Zemmour’s party. So, why hold a primary contest with actors who do not share the same platform and ideology?
In other words, part of the center-right does not want to become hostage to the most right-wing parties in the country, especially since Zemmour’s party stands to the right of the National Rally. Zemmour’s party promotes the idea of the “Great Replacement.” It also advances the view that Islam is not compatible with French citizenship and supports the idea of “remigration,” that is, the compulsory return of all non-European immigrants. This is, therefore, a completely different ideological framework.
My view is that this controversy will continue for many months to come, especially since we do not yet know who the National Rally’s candidate will be. As I mentioned earlier, Marine Le Pen will stand trial on appeal next June, and the outcome will be known then. She may be disqualified from running. If that happens, Bardella will carry the colors of the National Rally. This means that, for the time being, the National Rally faces some difficulty in entering the pre-campaign phase, and this gives the Republicans time to take advantage of the situation and clarify their strategy.
Perceived Cultural Loss, Not Just Reality, Drives RN Support
Muslims demonstrating against Islamophobia outside the Grande Mosquée de Paris, France. Photo: Tom Craig.
Your previous work has emphasized the role of cultural insecurity, as well as socioeconomic dislocation, in shaping support for the populist right. Did these local elections confirm that diagnosis, especially in provincial France and smaller towns where the RN performed more strongly than in metropolitan centers?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: It is absolutely true. When we look at the map of the cities won by the National Rally, what we see are many small and medium-sized cities where there is a strong feeling of cultural loss—a perception that there is more immigration, more mosques being built, and more immigrants and refugees arriving. Many people feel very uneasy about this. It is a perception of insecurity, even in cases where there is no actual crime or insecurity. That is very important to understand.
It is not because you live in a safe city that you do not believe immigration is increasing—10, 20, or even 50 kilometers away in a larger city—and that sooner or later immigrants will come to your own town and change its cultural history, what you consider necessary to be truly French, and what you think is required to live in your community.
I think we still have a problem with immigration from former French colonies, whether from North Africa or West Africa. It is as if we have not fully come to terms with our colonial past, and with the fact that we not only accepted these immigrants but actively encouraged them to come. Large industries and major business interests brought them to this country. So, they deserve recognition for what they contributed and for the role they played in building the country’s industrial base. Yet, they remain disadvantaged, and racism and xenophobia persist.
On the other hand, among native French people—those whose families have lived in the country for generations—especially in today’s unstable international context, there is a growing perception of a clash of civilizations between the West and the Muslim world. This perception plays an important role, particularly along the Mediterranean coast, in shaping support for the National Rally.
The social situation is also very important. As I mentioned earlier, in many parts of France, these areas have been deindustrialized since the late 1970s, and there is no realistic prospect that these jobs will return. You may recall that President Trump, during his campaign in Pittsburgh, told steelworkers that their jobs would come back—but they did not. The same is true in northern France: industrial jobs will not return.
In other words, people feel they have no future, no new forms of employment or specialization for younger generations. There is a strong sense of dispossession, alienation, and abandonment. In some small towns, public services are also disappearing. Public services include the post office, the local school, the railway station—everything that signals the presence of the state. This also includes the presence of police or access to hospitals. Many hospitals have been closing in this country, and when people have to travel an hour to reach emergency care, they understandably feel that the state is no longer taking care of them. So, a protest vote in favor of the National Rally emerges in this context.
Major Cities Favor Stability Over Populist Alternatives
Conversely, how do you explain the RN’s continuing difficulty in major cities? Is this primarily a matter of candidate quality, urban demography, coalition arithmetic, class composition, or the party’s still-incomplete process of dédiabolisation?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: In major cities, you have to remember that most of them, including Paris, have become gentrified. A gentrified city means a high proportion of people with higher education, better-paid jobs, and incomes above the average wage. There is also a tendency to reject extremes and to seek stability.
If you look at cities like Marseille, Paris, Lille, Strasbourg, and so on, there is also a significant share of the population that comes from an immigrant background and who, obviously, do not want to vote for the National Rally. So the conditions are in place to prevent the National Rally from winning in the largest cities, such as Lyon, Paris, and Marseille.
This is not the case in small or medium-sized cities. There, the population is different, often with incomes below the average and facing many difficulties, including in rural areas where the National Rally has made very significant inroads.
Moreover, the organizational apparatus of the major parties still retains some hold over the electorate in major cities, whereas the electorate in small and medium-sized cities and rural areas is much more volatile.
Municipal Results Do Not Predict Presidential Outcomes
Leaflets featuring candidates for the 2024 legislative elections in Versailles, France, on June 28, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.
Finally, Professor Camus, do these municipal elections offer any reliable indication for the presidential race ahead? More specifically, do they suggest that France is still heading toward a Le Pen– or Bardella-centered contest, or do they reopen the possibility that broader coalitions of the mainstream left, center, and moderate right could yet alter the expected scenario?
Professor Jean-Yves Camus: First of all, in political science, we know that we cannot infer from city council elections what the outcome of a presidential election will be. These are two very different types of elections, not the same mode of scrutiny, and, of course, a very different context—especially in a country like France, where the presidency is very powerful. We are a semi-presidential system.
Second, I would insist that there is still one year to go until the election. The only thing we know for sure is that Emmanuel Macron is not allowed to seek a third term. As for the other contenders, we know quite a few—especially Édouard Philippe, who retained his mayorship of Le Havre last Sunday and is one of the contenders for the center-right—but there are others, and there are many contenders within the Republican Party. We do not yet know who will be the candidate of the Social Democratic left; there may even be several. The only thing we know for sure is that the candidate of the National Rally will be either Le Pen or Bardella, and we know that the candidate of the radical left will be Jean-Luc Mélenchon. So let us wait until we really know who will stand for president, and then look at the first polls.
What the National Rally expects is a second round between Mélenchon and Bardella. Why? Because opinion surveys show that the dédiabolisation of the National Rally has progressed to such an extent that the radical left is now rejected by a higher proportion of voters than Le Pen or Bardella. This is something we would not have said 10 or even 5 years ago. The rejection level of the radical left is around 60%. Fewer than 50% of French people today say that the National Rally is a threat to democracy—49% still see it as such, but that is no longer a majority. So, the hope of the National Rally is a second round between two candidates from the extremes, which would allow it to win.
On the other hand, what I see emerging is what we call the central bloc—that is, Macron’s majority—playing the card of stability: you do not want to vote for one or another extreme, so let us vote for stability.Maybe you do not agree with everything the center-right has done over the past decade, but if you are faced with the National Rally in the second round, please vote for stability—keeping France a democracy and keeping France within the European Union. This kind of strategy may work.
The only problem is that in 2017 and in 2022, the majority of the French did not vote for Macron because they shared his ideas; they voted for him because they rejected Le Pen. And if, in 2027, we again have to vote for a candidate whose policies we do not truly support, only out of rejection of the National Rally, then I would expect very difficult times. Because voting for a president, at least in the French context, should mean supporting his ideology, his project for the country, what he wants to do, and the kind of legislation he wants to pass. If you vote only to avoid what you perceive as a threat, then democracy is not very solid.
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain offers a nuanced and cautionary reading of Nepal’s post-election moment, arguing that the March 2026 vote should not be seen simply as a democratic breakthrough. While the rise of Balendra “Balen” Shah and the Rastriya Swatantra Party marks a clear rupture in elite continuity, Humagain warns that Nepal’s deeper political logic remains shaped by “institutionalized populism.” He emphasizes that the country is emerging from “a kind of institutionalized gray zone,” yet still faces serious challenges of accountability, parliamentary weakness, and policy incoherence. For Humagain, the election has validated long-standing public questions about corruption, patronage, and ineffective governance—but not yet their answers. Nepal, he suggests, stands at a critical juncture: not at the summit of democratic renewal, but “at base camp,” where the hard work of institutional reform has only just begun.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Sanjeev Humagain, a political scientist at Nepal Open University, offers a nuanced and theoretically grounded assessment of Nepal’s evolving political landscape in the aftermath of the March 2026 general election. While widely interpreted as a rupture driven by Gen Z mobilization and anti-elite sentiment, Dr. Humagain cautions against overly celebratory readings of the electoral outcome. Instead, he situates the moment within a longer trajectory of institutional fragility, elite circulation, and the deepening entrenchment of populist political practices.
At first glance, the electoral victory of Balendra “Balen” Shah and the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) appears to mark a decisive break with the post-1990 political order. As Dr. Humagain notes, “the rise of the Rastriya Swatantra Party… represents a clear break from that pattern,” emphasizing that “for the first time, we are witnessing an overwhelmingly large number of new members in Parliament.” This influx of political newcomers—many lacking prior ministerial experience—signals a disruption of long-standing elite continuity and suggests the possibility of institutional renewal.
Yet, as the interview unfolds, Dr. Humagain complicates this narrative of democratic transformation. He underscores that Nepal’s political trajectory has long been characterized not by linear democratization but by movement across “a kind of institutionalized gray zone,” where “there was a serious erosion of accountability” and persistent threats to democratic consolidation. In this context, the current electoral moment represents less a definitive transition than a “critical juncture”whose direction remains uncertain.
Central to Dr. Humagain’s analysis is the argument that Nepal’s contemporary politics is shaped by a deeply embedded form of populism. While new actors and generational dynamics have reshaped the electoral arena, they have not necessarily displaced the underlying logic of governance. As he warns, “the other side of the coin is that Nepali politics has already been shaped by populism for at least a decade,” characterized by “the personalization of politics” and the marginalization of institutional mechanisms such as parliament and party structures. This personalization, he argues, has rendered “several key institutions dysfunctional,” raising fundamental questions about the durability of democratic accountability.
Importantly, Dr. Humagain highlights a paradox at the heart of Nepal’s current transformation. While voters have clearly rejected established parties and endorsed systemic critique, they have not yet converged around a coherent programmatic alternative. “The questions have been approved,” he observes, noting that citizens have given new political actors “the mandate to find meaningful and democratic answers.” However, “it is not that a clear direction has already been determined”—a condition he captures through the evocative metaphor that “Nepal is at the beginning of a new journey—we are at base camp, not at the top of the mountain.”
It is precisely within this unresolved space that the central challenge emerges. Despite electoral change, Dr. Humagain expresses concern that “the populism that has already become deeply institutionalized will persist in the coming years.”This persistence, he argues, will generate “ongoing challenges for democratic accountability” and hinder efforts to strengthen parliamentary governance. In this sense, Nepal’s post-election moment is not merely a story of democratic renewal, but a test of whether institutional reform can overcome the enduring legacy of populist political logic.
Session 14 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop Series examined how artificial intelligence, algorithmic infrastructures, and digital platforms are reshaping democratic participation in the contemporary era. Bringing together perspectives from political science, communication, cultural heritage, and democratic theory, the panel explored the implications of AI for political legitimacy, collective identity, and the future of “the people” in an increasingly post-digital world. Contributions ranged from public attitudes toward algorithmic governance and the role of ChatGPT in shaping cultural memory to Big Tech’s influence on class consciousness and the fragmentation of digital publics. Together, the presentations and discussions showed that AI is no longer external to democracy, but increasingly constitutive of its communicative, institutional, and symbolic foundations—raising urgent questions about power, accountability, and democratic contestation.
Reported by ECPS Staff
On Thursday, March 19, 2026, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) convened the fourteenth session of its Virtual Workshop Series, “We, the People” and the Future of Democracy: Interdisciplinary Approaches, under the title “From Bots to Ballots: AI, Populism, and the Future of Democratic Participation.” Bringing together scholars from political science, communication studies, democratic theory, cultural heritage, and digital governance, the session examined one of the most urgent questions of contemporary political life: how artificial intelligence, algorithmic infrastructures, and platform logics are transforming democratic participation, political legitimacy, and the very conditions under which “the people” are constituted. From public attitudes toward algorithmic decision-making and the cultural politics of generative AI to the restructuring of class consciousness and the fragmentation of digital publics, the panel explored the shifting contours of democracy in an increasingly post-digital age.
The participants of the session were introduced by ECPS intern Stella Schade. Chairing the panel, Dr. Paolo Gerbaudo of the Complutense University of Madrid situated the discussion within a broader reflection on the transformation of democracy in the contemporary technological era. As he underscored, democracy has always been shaped by mediations—whether institutional, communicative, or technological—but what distinguishes the present moment is the centrality of digital infrastructures as key mediating forces in the organization of visibility, participation, and power. Algorithms, artificial intelligence systems, and platform architectures, he suggested, have become decisive “bottlenecks” through which political communication and democratic agency are increasingly filtered. In this sense, the session was framed not merely as a discussion of technology, but as an inquiry into the changing nature of democratic life itself.
Under Dr. Gerbaudo’s chairmanship, the panel featured four presentations that illuminated distinct yet interconnected dimensions of this transformation. Professor Joan Font (IESA-CSIC) examined citizens’ conceptions of democracy in relation to artificial intelligence in administration and government, asking who, if anyone, wants an algorithm to govern. Alonso Escamilla (The Catholic University of Ávila), co-authoring with Paula Gonzalo (University of Salamanca), explored how ChatGPT may shape European cultural heritage and its implications for the future of democracy. Aly Hill (University of Utah) turned to the United States to analyze how Big Tech is reshaping white working-class consciousness and reconfiguring populist narratives. Finally, Amina Vatreš (University of Sarajevo) offered a theoretical intervention on “the people” in an algorithmically mediated world, focusing on the interplay between filter bubbles, filter clashes, and populist identity formation.
The session also benefited from the incisive engagement of its discussants, Dr. Jasmin Hasanović (University of Sarajevo) and Dr. Alparslan Akkuş (University of Tübingen). Their interventions not only deepened the theoretical stakes of the presentations but also connected them to wider debates on political legitimacy, technological power, digital capitalism, and democratic fragmentation.
Together, chair, speakers, and discussants produced a rich interdisciplinary exchange that highlighted both the promise and the peril of AI-mediated politics. Session 14 thus offered a compelling inquiry into how democracy is being rearticulated in a world where digital systems no longer merely support political life, but increasingly structure its possibilities.
Please cite as: ECPS Staff. (2026). “Virtual Workshop Series / Session 14 — From Bots to Ballots: AI, Populism, and the Future of Democratic Participation.” European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). March 24, 2026. https://doi.org/10.55271/rp00145
Session 14 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop Series examined how artificial intelligence, algorithmic infrastructures, and digital platforms are reshaping democratic participation in the contemporary era. Bringing together perspectives from political science, communication, cultural heritage, and democratic theory, the panel explored the implications of AI for political legitimacy, collective identity, and the future of “the people” in an increasingly post-digital world. Contributions ranged from public attitudes toward algorithmic governance and the role of ChatGPT in shaping cultural memory to Big Tech’s influence on class consciousness and the fragmentation of digital publics. Together, the presentations and discussions showed that AI is no longer external to democracy, but increasingly constitutive of its communicative, institutional, and symbolic foundations—raising urgent questions about power, accountability, and democratic contestation.
Reported by ECPS Staff
On Thursday, March 19, 2026, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) convened the fourteenth session of its Virtual Workshop Series, “We, the People” and the Future of Democracy: Interdisciplinary Approaches, under the title “From Bots to Ballots: AI, Populism, and the Future of Democratic Participation.” Bringing together scholars from political science, communication studies, democratic theory, cultural heritage, and digital governance, the session examined one of the most urgent questions of contemporary political life: how artificial intelligence, algorithmic infrastructures, and platform logics are transforming democratic participation, political legitimacy, and the very conditions under which “the people” are constituted. From public attitudes toward algorithmic decision-making and the cultural politics of generative AI to the restructuring of class consciousness and the fragmentation of digital publics, the panel explored the shifting contours of democracy in an increasingly post-digital age.
The participants of the session were introduced by ECPS intern Stella Schade. Chairing the panel, Dr. Paolo Gerbaudo of the Complutense University of Madrid situated the discussion within a broader reflection on the transformation of democracy in the contemporary technological era. As he underscored, democracy has always been shaped by mediations—whether institutional, communicative, or technological—but what distinguishes the present moment is the centrality of digital infrastructures as key mediating forces in the organization of visibility, participation, and power. Algorithms, artificial intelligence systems, and platform architectures, he suggested, have become decisive “bottlenecks” through which political communication and democratic agency are increasingly filtered. In this sense, the session was framed not merely as a discussion of technology, but as an inquiry into the changing nature of democratic life itself.
Under Dr. Gerbaudo’s chairmanship, the panel featured four presentations that illuminated distinct yet interconnected dimensions of this transformation. Presenting a co-authored paper on behalf of his co-authors, Professor Joan Font (IESA-CSIC) examined citizens’ conceptions of democracy in the context of artificial intelligence in public administration and governance, asking who, if anyone, would want an algorithm to govern. Alonso Escamilla (The Catholic University of Ávila), co-authoring with Paula Gonzalo (University of Salamanca), explored how ChatGPT may shape European cultural heritage and its implications for the future of democracy. Aly Hill (University of Utah) turned to the United States to analyze how Big Tech is reshaping white working-class consciousness and reconfiguring populist narratives. Finally, Amina Vatreš (University of Sarajevo) offered a theoretical intervention on “the people” in an algorithmically mediated world, focusing on the interplay between filter bubbles, filter clashes, and populist identity formation.
The session also benefited from the incisive engagement of its discussants, Dr. Jasmin Hasanović (University of Sarajevo) and Dr. Alparslan Akkuş (University of Tübingen). Their interventions not only deepened the theoretical stakes of the presentations but also connected them to wider debates on political legitimacy, technological power, digital capitalism, and democratic fragmentation.
Together, chair, speakers, and discussants produced a rich interdisciplinary exchange that highlighted both the promise and the peril of AI-mediated politics. Session 14 thus offered a compelling inquiry into how democracy is being rearticulated in a world where digital systems no longer merely support political life, but increasingly structure its possibilities.
Democracy, Mediation, and Digital Power
Dr. Paolo Gerbaudo is a sociologist and political theorist at Department of Political Science and Administration and senior researcher in Social Science at Complutense University in Madrid and lead researcher for the After Order project at Alameda Institute.
In his introductory remarks, Dr. Paolo Gerbaudo situates the discussion within his broader scholarly engagement with the transformation of democracy in the contemporary technological era. His intervention underscores the growing entanglement between democratic malaise, the rise of populist movements, and the evolving infrastructures of mediation that shape political life.
Dr. Gerbaudo foregrounds a fundamental paradox at the heart of democratic theory: the tension between the ideal of democracy as the unmediated expression of the popular will and the empirical reality of complex, layered mediations. Drawing implicitly on classical conceptions of direct democracy, he contrasts the normative aspiration for transparency and immediacy with the institutional and technological filters through which political power is necessarily exercised. In this sense, democracy is never purely direct but always structured through channels that organize participation, authority, and legitimacy.
Extending this argument, Dr. Gerbaudo emphasizes that mediation is not a recent development but a constitutive feature of democratic systems across history—from ancient Athens to modern representative regimes. However, what distinguishes the present moment is the centrality of digital technologies as key mediating forces. Algorithms, artificial intelligence, and platform architectures increasingly function as “bottlenecks” and “pivot points,” shaping the distribution of visibility, influence, and ultimately political power.
Crucially, he highlights the hybrid nature of these processes, where human agency and technological systems interact in complex ways. This interplay produces new configurations of power that challenge traditional understandings of democratic participation and representation. By framing the session around these dynamics, Dr. Gerbaudo positions the subsequent presentations as contributions to a broader inquiry into the opportunities and limits of digital democracy in contemporary societies.
Professor Joan Font: “Conceptions of Democracy and Artificial Intelligence in Administration and Government: Who Wants an Algorithm to Govern Us?”
Joan Font is research professor at the Institute of Advanced Social Studies (IESA-CSIC).
In his presentation, Professor Joan Font offers a rigorous empirical examination of public attitudes toward the role of artificial intelligence (AI) in democratic governance. His intervention is situated within the broader framework of the AutoDemo project, a collaborative research initiative aimed at exploring citizens’ preferences regarding democratic procedures and decision-making models in contemporary societies.
Professor Font begins by positioning AI as a critical new dimension in longstanding debates about “which kind of democracy we want.” Rather than treating AI as a purely technical innovation, he integrates it into a normative and empirical inquiry into democratic legitimacy, participation, and authority. The rapid diffusion of AI technologies—particularly within public administration—raises fundamental questions about transparency, accountability, and the locus of decision-making power. Yet, as he notes, systematic knowledge of citizens’ perceptions and preferences in this domain remains limited and fragmented.
To address this gap, the AutoDemo project conducted a large-scale survey of approximately 3,000 respondents in Spain, capturing attitudes toward AI in general, as well as its potential applications in public administration and government. A key contribution of the study lies in its differentiation between varying levels of AI involvement—from low-stakes administrative assistance to high-stakes political decision-making. This nuanced approach allows the authors to move beyond binary or dystopian framings of AI governance and instead map gradations of public support.
The descriptive findings reveal a clear and consistent pattern: respondents are broadly supportive of AI when it is confined to routine administrative tasks, such as improving efficiency or processing information. However, this support declines significantly as AI is envisioned as playing a more direct role in political decision-making. The lowest levels of acceptance are observed in scenarios where AI would oversee or conduct electoral processes, indicating persistent concerns about legitimacy and democratic control. These findings align with comparable studies conducted in other European contexts, suggesting a degree of cross-national consistency.
Moving beyond descriptive analysis, Professor Font employs multivariate regression techniques to identify the key drivers of these attitudes. The results indicate that general attitudes toward AI—such as trust in technology or perceived benefits—constitute the most powerful explanatory factor. In comparison, democratic preferences and broader political attitudes play a more conditional role. Notably, their influence becomes more pronounced in relation to higher levels of AI authority. Individuals with more authoritarian orientations are significantly more likely to support an expanded role for AI in political decision-making, whereas those who favor representative democratic models tend to express greater skepticism.
This stratification underscores a crucial insight: support for AI governance is not merely a function of technological optimism, but is also shaped by underlying normative commitments regarding how democracy should function. In this sense, AI becomes a lens through which broader tensions between competing models of democracy—technocratic, representative, participatory, and authoritarian—are refracted.
Professor Font concludes by emphasizing both the empirical and normative implications of these findings. While AI is not yet a central issue in electoral politics, its growing presence in governance raises the possibility that it may become politically salient in the near future. As such, the question of how citizens perceive and evaluate AI’s role in decision-making warrants sustained scholarly and policy attention. By embedding AI within the broader debate on democratic preferences, the presentation offers a valuable contribution to understanding the evolving relationship between technology and democracy in the digital age.
Alonso Escamilla: “How Does ChatGPT Shape European Cultural Heritage for the Future of Democracy?”
Alonso Escamilla is Manager of European Projects and Research at the Catholic University of Ávila (Spain). For this same institution, he is a PhD Student on Cultural Heritage and Digitalisation and a Member of the Research Group: Territory, History and Digital Cultural Heritage.
In his presentation at Session 14 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop Series, Alonso Escamilla advances an original and exploratory inquiry into the relationship between artificial intelligence, European cultural heritage, and the future of democracy. His paper situates itself at the intersection of political theory, cultural studies, and digital governance, offering a conceptually rich and methodologically innovative contribution to ongoing debates on the democratic implications of generative AI.
Escamilla begins by establishing a conceptual foundation that links European cultural heritage and democracy through a shared normative architecture. Drawing on UNESCO’s definition, he frames cultural heritage as the legacy of tangible and intangible assets transmitted across generations and preserved for collective benefit. This definition is subsequently expanded through the lens of the European Union, where cultural heritage is understood not only as a repository of memory but also as a strategic resource underpinning economic development, social cohesion, territorial competitiveness, and the consolidation of European values. Democracy, in parallel, is conceptualized as a system grounded in rights, rule of law, and representative institutions, through which citizens’ dignity and public reason are institutionalized.
A key analytical move in Escamilla’s framework is the recognition of cultural heritage as a polysemic concept—simultaneously functioning as identity, memory, symbol, and political resource. This multiplicity, he argues, renders cultural heritage both a site of democratic possibility and a terrain of contestation. In the context of the European Union, where shared identity is continuously negotiated, cultural heritage becomes central to the construction and reproduction of democratic legitimacy.
This conceptual discussion is embedded within a broader historical and geopolitical context. Escamilla highlights a series of crises that have shaped the European project over the past two decades—including the 2008 financial crisis, the 2015 migration crisis, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the ongoing war in Ukraine—arguing that these events have placed significant strain on both democratic institutions and cultural narratives. To these pressures is added the accelerating impact of digitalization and artificial intelligence, which introduces new uncertainties regarding the mediation of knowledge, identity, and political participation.
Against this backdrop, Escamilla formulates his central research question: how does ChatGPT conceptualize the role of artificial intelligence in shaping European cultural heritage for the future of democracy? Methodologically, the study adopts an innovative design, treating ChatGPT not merely as a tool but as an object of inquiry. A set of 30 open-ended questions is administered across three levels of complexity—basic, intermediate, and expert—each designed to elicit distinct layers of conceptualization. By structuring the interaction in this way and isolating each level within separate conversational contexts, the study seeks to capture variations in discourse while minimizing contextual bias.
The resulting dataset is subjected to qualitative content analysis, involving thematic coding, identification of discursive patterns, and mapping of conceptual relationships. This approach allows Escamilla to reconstruct the “narrative logic” through which ChatGPT articulates the interplay between cultural heritage, democracy, and artificial intelligence.
The findings reveal a clear stratification in the model’s responses. At the basic level, ChatGPT adopts a pedagogical and normative tone, presenting European cultural heritage as a shared historical legacy, linking it to civic participation, and defining democracy primarily in terms of human rights and the rule of law. These responses reflect dominant institutional discourses, closely aligned with EU policy frameworks and UNESCO definitions.
At the intermediate level, the model’s discourse becomes more analytical and reflexive. Cultural heritage is framed as a resource for critical thinking and democratic literacy, as well as a space—both physical and digital—where citizens negotiate meanings and engage in dialogue. Importantly, ChatGPT begins to conceptualize heritage as dynamic, capable of responding to contemporary challenges and facilitating democratic resilience.
At the expert level, a more critical and ambivalent perspective emerges. Here, ChatGPT articulates both the opportunities and risks associated with AI. On the one hand, AI is portrayed as a powerful tool for enhancing accessibility, inclusivity, and preservation, enabling new forms of cultural production and engagement. On the other hand, significant risks are identified: the privileging of dominant narratives, the reproduction of existing power hierarchies, and the potential for AI to shape—if not determine—how heritage is accessed, interpreted, and transmitted.
One of the most intriguing aspects of the findings is the model’s “performative adaptability.” Escamilla observes that ChatGPT appears to adopt different epistemic identities depending on the level of questioning—ranging from a pedagogical voice at the basic level to a quasi-expert authority at the highest level. This suggests not only responsiveness to input complexity but also an embedded capacity to simulate varying degrees of expertise, raising important questions about epistemic authority in AI-mediated knowledge production.
In the discussion, Escamilla situates these findings within existing literature on cultural heritage policy and digital governance. He notes that the model’s outputs largely reproduce dominant European narratives, reflecting the influence of institutional discourse embedded within training data. While this lends coherence and legitimacy to the responses, it also points to a limitation: alternative or marginalized conceptions of cultural heritage may be underrepresented or excluded.
The analysis of future-oriented responses further underscores the ambivalent role of AI. While its capacity to democratize access and foster inclusion is acknowledged, its potential to distort public discourse, manipulate information, and reshape collective memory raises significant concerns. In particular, the prospect that AI systems might influence not only how heritage is disseminated but also what is deemed worthy of preservation introduces a profound challenge to democratic governance.
Escamilla concludes by emphasizing the bidirectional and evolving relationship between artificial intelligence, cultural heritage, and democracy. AI is not merely a neutral intermediary but an active agent in the production, selection, and transmission of cultural meaning. As such, its growing influence necessitates sustained scholarly attention and critical engagement.
Ultimately, the presentation highlights a central tension: whether artificial intelligence will serve as a tool that enhances democratic participation and cultural pluralism, or as a force that centralizes interpretive authority and constrains diversity. By foregrounding this question, Escamilla’s work contributes significantly to emerging debates on the governance of digital knowledge infrastructures and their implications for democratic futures.
Aly Hill: “The New Elite: How Big Tech is Reshaping White Working-Class Consciousness.”
Aly Hill is a third-year Ph.D. candidate in the Department of Communication at The University of Utah.
In her presentation, Aly Hill offers a conceptually incisive examination of the evolving relationship between technological governance, populism, and class politics in the contemporary United States. Positioned as a “human-centered” complement to more system-oriented analyses of digital democracy, Hill’s intervention foregrounds the lived and political consequences of technocratic restructuring, particularly as it intersects with the transformation of populist narratives and white working-class consciousness.
Hill’s analysis is anchored in the political developments surrounding the second administration of Donald Trump, with particular attention to the institutional and ideological implications of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), an initiative associated with the prominent tech entrepreneur Elon Musk. Through this lens, the presentation examines how the increasing alignment between big tech and right-wing political power is reshaping not only governance practices but also the symbolic and material foundations of populist politics.
The presentation begins by situating this shift within a broader historical trajectory of relations between political power and the technology sector. Hill notes that while the contemporary alignment of major technology firms with conservative political actors may appear novel, it is better understood as a function of structural economic incentives rather than ideological realignment. In earlier periods, particularly during the 2000s and early 2010s, big tech was closely associated with liberal, innovation-driven narratives that emphasized democratization, participation, and disruption of traditional power centers. However, as these firms have consolidated economic and infrastructural dominance, their political positioning has increasingly aligned with agendas favoring deregulation, tax reduction, and the minimization of state constraints—policies more closely associated with conservative governance.
This transformation is interpreted not as a departure from prior commitments but as a logical extension of capital-driven interests. Hill highlights how the regulatory environment under successive administrations has played a crucial role in this shift. While earlier administrations pursued antitrust measures and regulatory oversight, more recent policy frameworks—particularly under Trump—have offered incentives conducive to technological expansion, including relaxed environmental regulations affecting data infrastructure and reduced corporate constraints. Within this context, the convergence of political and technological power emerges as both strategic and mutually reinforcing.
At the core of Hill’s argument is the question of how this realignment affects populist discourse, particularly its traditional articulation around the dichotomy of “the people” versus “the elite.” To explore this, she draws on three empirical case studies: the mass dismissal of approximately 140,000 federal employees, the attempted administrative takeover of key government agencies by DOGE, and the deployment of mass communication systems to monitor and manage federal labor. While these cases vary in scope and implementation, they collectively illustrate a broader transformation in the logic of governance.
The first major finding centers on the reconceptualization of governance as an optimization problem rather than a site of political negotiation. Hill argues that the introduction of data-driven managerial frameworks reframes political decision-making in terms of efficiency, performance metrics, and algorithmic calculation. This shift echoes earlier traditions of managerial rationalization, particularly Taylorism, but is now reconfigured through digital infrastructures—a phenomenon she identifies as “digital Taylorism.” In this model, complex political questions are reduced to technical challenges, thereby displacing democratic deliberation with procedural optimization.
The second finding concerns the transformation of state communication. Hill observes that governmental interaction with citizens and employees increasingly mirrors the logic of corporate platform management. The use of standardized, impersonal communication—exemplified by mass emails announcing layoffs or monitoring productivity—reflects a shift toward scalable, automated governance. Importantly, this mode of communication is accompanied by an algorithmic logic that seeks to depoliticize conflict. When errors occur—such as wrongful dismissals—the responsibility is often attributed to technical malfunction or systemic inefficiency, rather than to political decision-making. This displacement of accountability obscures the inherently political nature of these processes, reinforcing the perception of neutrality associated with technological systems.
The third and perhaps most consequential finding addresses the redefinition of workers within this emerging framework. Hill argues that efficiency-driven governance increasingly treats workers as system costs rather than as political subjects. This reclassification has profound implications for populist politics, particularly given that many of those affected by these policies belong to the very constituencies that populist movements claim to represent. In this sense, the presentation identifies a growing disjunction between populist rhetoric and policy outcomes. While populism continues to invoke the grievances of the working class, the implementation of technocratic efficiency measures often undermines the material conditions of these same groups.
Hill further highlights the paradoxical status of technocratic actors within this system. Figures such as Elon Musk, initially positioned as central agents of reform, are themselves subject to the logic of disposability. When their actions generate political friction or undermine narrative coherence, they can be rapidly replaced, reinforcing the primacy of system-level efficiency over individual agency. This dynamic underscores the extent to which authority is shifting away from identifiable elites toward more diffuse, technologically mediated structures of power.
In synthesizing these findings, Hill proposes a significant transformation in the structure of populist discourse. The traditional antagonism between “the people” and “the elite” is increasingly supplanted by a more complex and unstable configuration in which technology itself becomes a focal point of contestation. As citizens encounter the material consequences of algorithmic governance—job loss, surveillance, bureaucratic opacity—they may begin to reorient their grievances toward technological systems rather than conventional political actors. This shift suggests the emergence of a “people versus tech” paradigm, in which the locus of power becomes more difficult to identify and contest.
At the same time, Hill remains attentive to the limits of this transformation. Whether citizens will fully recognize the structural interplay between technological systems and political authority remains an open question. The opacity of algorithmic processes, combined with the enduring appeal of populist narratives, may inhibit the development of a coherent critique. Nevertheless, the presentation underscores the importance of rethinking populism in light of these evolving dynamics, particularly as digital infrastructures become increasingly central to governance.
In conclusion, Aly Hill’s presentation offers a compelling and theoretically grounded account of how technological rationality is reshaping the terrain of democratic politics. By linking empirical developments in US governance to broader conceptual debates on populism, class, and digital power, the study provides valuable insights into the future of democratic contestation. It highlights a critical juncture in which the promises of efficiency and innovation are intertwined with new forms of exclusion, dispossession, and depoliticization—raising fundamental questions about the capacity of democratic systems to adapt to, and regulate, the expanding influence of technology.
Amina Vatreš: “Bubbles, Clashes and Populism: ‘The People’ in an Algorithmically Mediated World.”
Amina Vatreš is a teaching assistant at the Department of Communication Studies/Journalism at the University of Sarajevo – Faculty of Political Sciences.
In her presentation, Amina Vatreš develops a theoretically ambitious and conceptually rich account of the relationship between algorithmic mediation and contemporary populism. Her paper is explicitly framed as a theoretical intervention rather than an empirical study. Its primary objective is to clarify how digital platforms, as socio-technical systems, actively shape the conditions under which collective identities are formed, contested, and destabilized.
Vatreš begins from the premise that digital platforms should not be understood as neutral channels of communication. Rather, they are infrastructures that structure what can be seen, said, and believed. In this way, they participate directly in the production of social reality. This perspective enables her to connect platform logics with the formation of subjectivity and, more specifically, with the articulation of political identities within populist frameworks. At stake, therefore, is not simply the circulation of information, but the deeper question of how “the people” are constructed in digitally mediated environments.
To illustrate this argument, Vatreš offers concrete examples drawn from recent political events. She invites the audience to imagine two users following the same anti-government protests in Sarajevo or the same international conflict, but receiving radically different representations of these events depending on their platform use, prior interactions, and digital networks. One user may encounter content emphasizing governmental responsibility and civic mobilization, while another sees narratives that delegitimize protest and defend authorities. In such instances, she argues, the issue is not merely that users are exposed to different opinions; rather, they inhabit different realities. These realities are produced through algorithmic curation systems that rank, prioritize, and amplify content based on previous behavior and predicted engagement.
This observation leads Vatreš to a larger conceptual claim: contemporary politics unfolds within what she describes as a post-digital environment. In such a setting, technology, communication, and social life are no longer separable domains. Algorithms and users exist in a reciprocal relation: users shape algorithms through their interactions, while algorithms simultaneously shape users’ practices, interpretations, and political orientations. This recursive loop is crucial for understanding the contemporary transformation of populism.
Within this framework, Vatreš introduces the concept of post-digital populism. She defines it as a form of populism in which collective identities are co-produced through the ongoing interaction between users and algorithmic systems. Users, through their clicks, searches, and engagements, effectively train the algorithms, and the algorithms in turn reinforce and amplify the preferences, identities, and affective dispositions that informed those behaviors in the first place. This process is not accidental but rooted in the business logic of digital platforms, which optimize for engagement and thus privilege emotionally charged, polarizing, and identity-affirming content.
A central contribution of the presentation lies in her identification of two key mechanisms through which collective identities are reconfigured in post-digital contexts: filter bubbles and filter clashes. Filter bubbles refer to relatively homogeneous informational spaces produced by personalization and recommendation systems. Within them, users are repeatedly exposed to content that confirms preexisting beliefs, while dissonant viewpoints are minimized. According to Vatreš, this repetition serves to stabilize in-group identification. It strengthens a sense of “us” while constructing a corresponding “them,” often in simplified or distorted terms. In this sense, filter bubbles do not merely isolate; they also consolidate identity through the constant reinforcement of familiar narratives.
Yet Vatreš argues that algorithmic mediation does not operate solely through isolation. It also generates confrontation, and this is where the concept of filter clashes becomes analytically important. Filter clashes occur when antagonistic positions collide across algorithmically curated realities. These are not moments of open dialogue or mutual understanding; rather, they are structured encounters in which users move beyond their own informational environments in order to challenge, confront, or discredit opposing views. These clashes are intensified by algorithms because platforms tend to amplify conflictual and emotionally charged content. Thus, digital mediation not only separates publics but also stages their encounters under conditions that privilege antagonism over deliberation.
From a communication studies perspective, Vatreš insists that the core problem is not simply the absence of constructive dialogue. After all, such dialogue is often limited even in offline or analog contexts. The deeper problem concerns which messages reach users, how those messages are framed, and how they provide justification for particular political demands. What emerges is a fragmented communicative space composed of micro-publics, each structured by its own patterns of visibility, affect, and interpretation.
Here Vatreš introduces an important theoretical insight drawn from Ernesto Laclau’s work on populism. She suggests that the fragmentation of digital publics makes it difficult to create broader “chains of equivalence” through which dispersed grievances might be articulated into a coherent collective project. Although algorithmic environments intensify grievances and facilitate their circulation, they do not necessarily enable their stabilization into durable political meanings. Instead, political affect often remains at the level of reactive polarization. What appears as mobilization may in fact be a simulation of politics—an expression of identity without durable articulation or strategic coherence.
This leads to one of the presentation’s most important conclusions: in algorithmically mediated environments, the “people” do not emerge as a stable political subject. Rather, what one finds is a constant process of mobilization without consolidation. Algorithms generate intensity, accelerate circulation, and produce moments of antagonistic visibility, but they do not provide the conditions for lasting unity. In this sense, populism becomes both effective and fragile. It is effective because it fits the logic of algorithmic systems, simplifying complexity into the stark opposition between “the people” and “the elites.” But it is fragile because it operates within an environment that continuously fragments meaning and reconfigures identity.
Vatreš returns to the Sarajevo protests as an example of this dynamic. What began as collective grief after a tragic accident was quickly transformed into a politically charged event mediated through digital platforms. Competing narratives emerged almost immediately, polarizing public discourse and restructuring the meaning of the protests in real time. Social media did not simply reflect social divisions; it actively organized them, creating the conditions under which different versions of “the people” could emerge, clash, and circulate.
In conclusion, Vatreš argues that the key question in a post-digital world is no longer simply who “the people” are, but how “the people” are produced through the interaction of users, platforms, and algorithmic systems. Algorithms sustain antagonism both by enclosing users within bubbles and by exposing them to conflict through clashes. At the same time, they undermine the stabilization of collective meaning by fragmenting publics and intensifying reactive affect. Populism, in this context, appears both as a strategy of articulation and as a symptom of fragmentation.
Her final argument is particularly striking: algorithms do not produce “the people” as a unified and enduring collective subject. Rather, they create the conditions under which “the people” can continuously emerge and just as continuously dissolve. What remains, therefore, is not a stable democratic collectivity but a shifting field of fragmented, algorithmically mediated identities. In this sense, Vatreš’s presentation offers a compelling theoretical framework for understanding the unstable relationship between digital infrastructures, populist articulation, and democratic subject formation in the contemporary political landscape.
Discussants’ Feedback
Feedback by Assist. Prof. Jasmin Hasanović
Dr. Jasmin Hasanović is an Assistant Professor and researcher at the Department for Political Science at the University of Sarajevo – Faculty of Political Science.
In his role as discussant at Session 14 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop Series, Dr. Jasmin Hasanović offers a wide-ranging and theoretically grounded set of reflections that both synthesize and critically interrogate the panel’s contributions. His feedback is marked by a consistent effort to situate the presented papers within a broader conceptual shift—from understanding “the digital” as an external domain to recognizing a fully post-digital condition in which technological systems are deeply embedded in the fabric of everyday social and political life.
Dr. Hasanović opens by commending the panel for collectively demonstrating that digital technologies—particularly platforms, algorithms, and artificial intelligence—can no longer be treated as novel or disruptive add-ons to political analysis. Rather, they constitute an integral and normalized dimension of contemporary social reality. This framing establishes the conceptual foundation of his intervention: that political theory must now grapple with a condition in which the boundaries between the technological and the social have effectively dissolved.
Turning first to the presentation by Professor Joan Font, Dr. Hasanović identifies a central theoretical issue raised by the study: the question of political legitimacy in the age of artificial intelligence. While classical political theory has traditionally conceptualized legitimacy in relation to human actors and institutions, the increasing role of algorithmic systems in decision-making processes necessitates a rethinking of this foundational concept. He praises the paper for innovatively linking attitudes toward AI with broader democratic preferences, thereby demonstrating that technological attitudes cannot be analytically separated from underlying normative conceptions of democracy.
However, Dr. Hasanović also identifies several areas requiring further development. Most notably, he calls for a deeper exploration of the finding that individuals with authoritarian orientations tend to exhibit stronger support for AI in political decision-making. Without a substantive theoretical explanation, he argues, such empirical observations remain descriptively interesting but analytically limited. The critical question—why authoritarian or technocratic predispositions correlate with support for AI—remains insufficiently addressed. This omission is particularly consequential given the normative implications: if support for AI aligns with authoritarian tendencies, then AI cannot be regarded as a neutral instrument but must instead be understood as potentially facilitating depoliticization and the concentration of power.
Relatedly, Dr. Hasanović raises concerns about the implicit conceptualization of AI within the study. He suggests that the analysis risks naturalizing the idea of AI as an autonomous political subject, thereby obscuring the human, institutional, and economic structures that underpin algorithmic systems. This critique redirects attention to the political economy of AI: who designs these systems, under what conditions, and for whose benefit. In doing so, Dr. Hasanović underscores that debates about AI’s role in governance cannot be divorced from questions of power, ownership, and capital.
This line of critique leads him to articulate a broader interpretive framework: the future role of AI in politics is inseparable from the capacity of capitalism to adapt and transform. Technological development, he notes, is driven not only by innovation but also by capital investment and, in many cases, military interests. Thus, the question of whether AI will enhance or undermine democratic governance must be situated within this structural context.
In his engagement with Alonso Escamilla’s presentation, Dr. Hasanović shifts focus to the cultural and epistemic dimensions of artificial intelligence. While acknowledging the methodological ingenuity of interrogating ChatGPT as an analytical subject, he suggests that the study would benefit from a comparative perspective. Specifically, he proposes examining how generative AI models conceptualize different cultural heritages in relation to democracy, rather than focusing exclusively on the European case. Such an approach, he argues, would help reveal potential biases embedded within AI systems.
Here, Dr. Hasanović advances a critical argument concerning the Eurocentrism of generative AI. He emphasizes that the dominant training data for models like ChatGPT are heavily skewed toward Western intellectual and cultural traditions. This asymmetry is further compounded by the global division of labor underlying AI production, where data annotation and content moderation are often outsourced to regions such as Africa and Asia under conditions of economic inequality. By invoking the example of companies such as Sama in Kenya, he highlights the often-invisible labor infrastructures that sustain AI systems.
This critique culminates in a broader theoretical point: AI should not be understood as an autonomous or abstract intelligence, but as a socio-technical product shaped by material conditions, labor relations, and global inequalities. In this regard, Dr. Hasanović invokes a Marxian perspective, emphasizing that technologies are “objectified knowledge” produced through human labor. The data that feed AI systems, he notes, are derived from collective social activity—often voluntarily provided by users through digital platforms—yet appropriated within capitalist frameworks for profit generation.
This political economy perspective also informs his engagement with Aly Hill’s presentation, which he identifies as particularly valuable for “humanizing” the discussion of technology. He expresses interest in the possibility of alternative technological paradigms that move beyond capitalist imperatives. This raises a normative and political question that extends beyond the panel: whether it is possible to imagine forms of technology organized around social benefit, communal ownership, or democratic control, rather than profit maximization.
Dr. Hasanović’s comments on Amina Vatreš’s presentation further deepen his theoretical intervention. He strongly endorses her conceptualization of populism as a discursive practice rather than a fixed ideology, aligning it with post-foundational approaches in political theory. He argues that her analysis convincingly demonstrates how algorithmic systems facilitate the partial construction of antagonistic identities—“us” versus “them”—through mechanisms such as filter bubbles and filter clashes.
At the same time, he highlights a crucial limitation identified in her work: the inability of algorithmically mediated environments to stabilize these antagonisms into coherent political subjects. Drawing on Ernesto Laclau’s theory, Dr. Hasanović emphasizes that the formation of a “people” requires the articulation of diverse demands into a unified chain of equivalence. However, in digital environments characterized by rapid fragmentation and continuous reconfiguration, such stabilization becomes increasingly difficult. As a result, political subjectivities emerge and dissolve in rapid succession, producing a condition of perpetual mobilization without consolidation.
This insight leads Dr. Hasanović to a critical reflection on the limits of contemporary digital activism. While early examples such as Occupy Wall Street or the Arab Spring suggested that social media could serve as tools for political mobilization, recent developments—such as algorithmic suppression or “shadow banning”—indicate that these platforms are no longer neutral arenas for political engagement. Instead, they are governed by opaque logics that users can neither fully understand nor effectively influence.
In light of these constraints, Dr. Hasanović proposes a shift in analytical and political focus: from engagement withintechnology to engagement over technology. Rather than merely adapting to algorithmic systems, he suggests the need for strategies that seek to intervene in, reshape, or even “untrain” these systems. This raises the possibility of a more active and critical form of technological engagement—one that challenges the structures of algorithmic governance rather than passively reproducing them.
In conclusion, Dr. Hasanović’s feedback provides a unifying and critical perspective on the session’s contributions. By foregrounding the post-digital condition, the political economy of technology, and the limits of algorithmically mediated politics, he not only identifies key theoretical tensions but also points toward new avenues for research and political intervention. His remarks underscore the necessity of rethinking core concepts—such as legitimacy, subjectivity, and collective identity—in light of the profound transformations brought about by digital and algorithmic systems.
Feedback by Dr. Alparslan Akkuş
Dr. Alparslan Akkuş is a Teaching Fellow at the Institute of Political Science, Eberhard Karls University Tübingen, Germany.
In his role as discussant, Dr. Alparslan Akkuş offers a reflective and experience-driven intervention that situates the panel’s contributions within a broader historical and technological trajectory. His remarks are characterized by an effort to bridge empirical findings with long-term patterns of technological transformation, emphasizing both the inevitability of artificial intelligence (AI) and its profound implications for political, social, and epistemic structures.
Dr. Akkuş opens his commentary by underscoring the timeliness and importance of the session’s theme, noting that the diverse presentations collectively illuminate multiple dimensions of what he describes as “this AI thing.” Rather than approaching AI as a distant or speculative phenomenon, he firmly situates it within the present, arguing that societies and institutions have already entered a new technological epoch. To illustrate this point, he draws on a personal anecdote from his professional experience in an innovation company in Germany. Recounting a management debate over whether to adopt AI, he invokes a historical analogy from the Ottoman Empire’s delayed adoption of the printing press. For Dr. Akkuş, this example serves as a cautionary tale: resistance to transformative technologies—particularly those central to knowledge production—can have long-term consequences for institutional and societal vitality. The implicit lesson he derives is clear: AI cannot be ignored or postponed; it must be actively engaged and integrated.
This historical framing is further extended through a comparison with the Industrial Revolution. Dr. Akkuş suggests that while earlier technological transformations primarily displaced manual and routine labor, AI represents a qualitatively different shift insofar as it encroaches upon cognitive and creative domains traditionally associated with human agency. This observation introduces a central concern that runs throughout his commentary: the potential reconfiguration of human roles, authority, and autonomy in an AI-driven environment. At the same time, he highlights the risks of bias embedded within such systems, thereby linking technological expansion with normative and political challenges.
Engaging with Professor Joan Font’s presentation, Dr. Akkuş focuses on the ambivalent attitudes of citizens toward AI in governance. He notes that while individuals may accept the use of AI for administrative or technical tasks, they exhibit significant resistance when AI is associated with core political functions such as decision-making or electoral processes. This distinction, he suggests, reveals an important boundary in public trust: AI is tolerated as an instrument but resisted as an authority. Drawing attention to the empirical finding that individuals with more technocratic or authoritarian orientations tend to be more supportive of AI governance, Dr. Akkuş interprets this as indicative of deeper political dispositions. In his reading, critical and reflective citizens are more likely to question the expansion of AI into political domains, whereas those aligned with technocratic or hierarchical frameworks may be more receptive to delegating authority to algorithmic systems.
However, Dr. Akkuş also raises a methodological and contextual concern regarding the generalizability of these findings. He points out that Spain’s political history, which he characterizes as lacking a strong technocratic tradition, may limit the broader applicability of the results. This observation highlights the importance of situating empirical studies within specific historical and institutional contexts, and suggests that the relationship between technocracy and AI acceptance may vary across political systems.
Turning to Alonso Escamilla’s presentation, Dr. Akkuş offers a more normative and critical reflection on the state of European values. While acknowledging the conceptual link between cultural heritage and democratic norms, he expresses skepticism regarding the contemporary vitality of these values. Drawing on his own experiences in Europe, he argues that the foundational democratic principles historically associated with the European project have been significantly eroded, due in part to crises such as migration, the COVID-19 pandemic, and geopolitical tensions. Within this context of perceived decline, he suggests that AI may emerge not merely as a tool but as a potential framework for reconstructing social and political realities. This perspective introduces a provocative dimension to his commentary: that AI could serve as an alternative—or even substitute—for weakened normative structures.
Dr. Akkuş’s engagement with Aly Hill’s presentation shifts the focus to the political economy of technology. He strongly concurs with the argument that the relationship between political actors and major technology companies is fundamentally driven by financial interests. Using the United States as an illustrative case, he describes a dynamic interplay between different forms of capital—particularly the technology and defense sectors—and their influence on political decision-making. His interpretation frames political alignments not primarily in ideological terms, but as outcomes of competing economic interests.
At the same time, Dr. Akkuş extends Hill’s analysis by emphasizing the fluidity and replaceability of both human actors and technological systems within this political-economic landscape. He notes that not only can individuals—such as technocratic elites—be rapidly replaced when they become politically inconvenient, but even major technology companies are subject to similar dynamics. Referring to recent developments in US federal procurement decisions, he highlights how shifts in political authority can reconfigure technological infrastructures, thereby underscoring the contingent and strategic nature of AI deployment in governance.
In his comments on Amina Vatreš’s presentation, Dr. Akkuş engages with the conceptual distinction between “filter bubbles” and “filter clashes.” He identifies this distinction as a valuable contribution that moves beyond the more commonly discussed notion of echo chambers. While echo chambers emphasize the reinforcement of homogeneous viewpoints, the concept of filter clashes introduces a new analytical layer by examining the spaces and mechanisms through which opposing narratives confront one another. Dr. Akkuş interprets this as an important advancement in understanding the dynamics of digital communication, particularly in relation to populism, where antagonistic interactions play a central role.
Beyond his engagement with individual papers, Dr. Akkuş concludes with a broader reflection on the accelerating development of AI technologies. Drawing on his own experience working with large language models, he emphasizes the rapid pace at which these systems learn and evolve. He notes that AI is not only trained through user interaction but also through the involvement of human labor in model development and refinement. This observation reinforces his earlier point about the inevitability of AI’s integration into everyday practices, including academic writing and knowledge production.
Importantly, Dr. Akkuş acknowledges the transformative impact of AI on intellectual labor. He contrasts his previous experience as a journalist—when writing was a wholly human endeavor—with contemporary practices in which tools like ChatGPT are routinely used to generate and refine text. This shift, he suggests, is not merely technical but ontological: it alters the very nature of authorship, creativity, and reality construction. In this sense, AI does not simply assist in communication; it actively shapes the content and form of knowledge itself.
In conclusion, Dr. Akkuş’s feedback offers a multifaceted and thought-provoking perspective that complements the session’s scholarly contributions. By combining historical analogies, empirical observations, and personal experience, he underscores the urgency of engaging with AI as a transformative force. His remarks highlight both the opportunities and the risks associated with this technological shift, while also pointing to the broader structural and normative questions that it raises for democracy, governance, and human agency.
Questions by Participants
The Q&A session of Panel 14 was marked by a set of conceptually rich and forward-looking interventions that deepened the panel’s central concern with the transformation of democracy under conditions of rapid technological change. Participants’ questions coalesced around the ontological, normative, and political implications of artificial intelligence, particularly its status within democratic systems and its role in reshaping power relations.
A central intervention, raised by Dr. Bulent Kenes, crystallized a key theoretical tension: whether artificial intelligence should be conceptualized not merely as a tool or infrastructure, but as a political agent. Building on earlier remarks by Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, who framed AI as a potential “subject,” Kenes sharpened the inquiry by explicitly asking whether AI possesses—or is evolving toward—agentic qualities within political processes. Directed to Professor Joan Font, this question foregrounded the need to interrogate the boundaries between human and non-human actors in governance, as well as the implications of delegating decision-making authority to algorithmic systems.
Expanding the discussion, Dr. Paolo Gerbaudo encouraged participants to reflect on the broader theoretical takeaways of their research in relation to democratic transformation. His intervention connected empirical, conceptual, and normative strands across the panel, inviting speakers to consider how AI-mediated governance, platform power, and algorithmic knowledge production intersect with the rise of populism and evolving forms of political subjectivity. Collectively, the questions underscored a shared concern with the reconfiguration of agency, legitimacy, and public awareness in an increasingly AI-mediated democratic landscape.
Responses
Response by Amina Vatreš
In her response, Amina Vatreš provided a theoretically sophisticated reflection on the phenomenon of AlgoSpeak, situating it firmly within the broader dynamics of algorithmic mediation and post-digital populism. Engaging with the question raised by Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, she argued that AlgoSpeak should not be understood merely as a linguistic workaround designed to evade platform moderation. Rather, it constitutes a revealing symptom of algorithmic power over visibility, communication, and the structuring of public discourse.
Vatreš emphasized that AlgoSpeak emerges from users’ growing awareness that both the content and form of their communication are continuously filtered, ranked, and potentially suppressed by platform algorithms. This awareness, she suggested, marks a fundamental shift: communication is no longer oriented solely toward other users but is increasingly shaped by strategic considerations directed at algorithmic systems themselves. In this sense, digital expression becomes dual-facing—simultaneously social and computational.
Importantly, she linked AlgoSpeak to the production of collective identity, arguing that it illustrates the active role of users in negotiating and adapting to algorithmic constraints. Users are not passive recipients of curated content; rather, they demonstrate agency by modifying language, employing coded expressions, and experimenting with alternative forms of communication. However, this agency remains structurally limited. As Vatreš noted, such practices operate within the very systems they seek to circumvent, rendering them reactive rather than transformative.
Consequently, AlgoSpeak is neither external to the problem nor a solution to it. Instead, it exemplifies the post-digital condition in which algorithmic systems shape not only what is seen but also how individuals speak, express political positions, and construct collective identities. While users may tactically adapt to algorithmic governance, these adaptations do not fundamentally alter the underlying structures of power. In this regard, AlgoSpeak reflects adaptation rather than resistance, underscoring the enduring constraints of platform-mediated communication.
Response by Aly Hill
In her response, Aly Hill offered a reflective and analytically nuanced engagement with broader questions concerning the political economy of digital platforms, the possibilities of resistance, and the evolving nature of political activism in a technologically mediated environment. Her intervention extended her presentation’s central themes by exploring alternative platform architectures and the limits of contemporary digital mobilization.
Hill first addressed the question of whether technology might exist outside the dominant logics of capital-driven platforms. In this context, she introduced a distinction between centralized and decentralized media systems. Decentralized platforms—such as Reddit or emerging alternatives like Bluesky—were presented as potential counter-models to the monopolistic tendencies of large-scale technology companies. These platforms, characterized by community-based moderation and less centralized algorithmic control, may mitigate some of the pathologies associated with mainstream platforms, including content homogenization, harassment, and the concentration of communicative power. However, Hill remained cautious, noting that the structural dominance of major tech actors raises serious doubts about the scalability and transformative potential of such alternatives.
Turning to the question of political activism, Hill reflected on the growing instability of political identities and movements in the digital age. She suggested that while online platforms enable rapid mobilization and broad dissemination of information, they may lack the durability required for sustained political change. Drawing on insights from Zeynep Tufekci’s work, she highlighted the tension between digitally facilitated protest and long-term organizational capacity. While offline, on-the-ground mobilization retains significance—particularly in contexts of internet shutdowns—Hill expressed skepticism about its ability to fully substitute for the reach and immediacy of digital networks.
Ultimately, her response underscored a dual condition: digital platforms remain indispensable for contemporary activism, yet their structural constraints continue to shape—and potentially limit—the prospects for transformative political change.
Response by Alonso Escamilla
In his response, Alonso Escamilla provided a reflective and forward-looking elaboration on his exploratory research, emphasizing both its conceptual scope and its potential for future development. Acknowledging the feedback and critical insights offered by discussants and participants, he framed his study as an initial step—“the tip of the iceberg”—within a broader research agenda aimed at systematically examining the relationship between artificial intelligence, cultural heritage, and democracy.
Escamilla highlighted the importance of comparative analysis as a key direction for future inquiry. He underscored that cultural heritage is not a monolithic category, but rather a multifaceted domain encompassing tangible, intangible, industrial, and increasingly digital forms. Accordingly, he suggested that the relationship between cultural heritage and democratic values may vary significantly across these different dimensions, as well as across regional and cultural contexts. In particular, he emphasized that comparing European cultural heritage with non-European traditions could reveal underlying biases and asymmetries in how democracy is conceptualized and reproduced.
A central theme of his response concerned the role of youth and sectoral diversity in shaping contemporary engagements with cultural heritage. Drawing on his ongoing research, Escamilla noted that different sectors—such as education, youth work, and sports—approach cultural heritage and democratic participation in distinct ways. He pointed to youth organizations as particularly significant actors in preserving civic-oriented values, even as broader European policy frameworks increasingly prioritize competitiveness and strategic preparedness. In this context, he suggested that youth initiatives often act as a form of normative “buffer,” resisting the erosion of participatory and democratic ideals.
Importantly, Escamilla also reflected on the growing entanglement between digital and physical realities. He illustrated how young people integrate traditional, hands-on practices with digital tools such as 3D printing, thereby creating hybrid forms of cultural production. This interplay, he argued, exemplifies how artificial intelligence and digital technologies are not only reshaping cultural heritage but also redefining spatial and social environments—from urban design to everyday practices of self-representation.
In conclusion, Escamilla emphasized that artificial intelligence is no longer a future prospect but an already operative force that is actively transforming both cultural and democratic landscapes. While the same technological tools are globally available, their meanings and effects remain context-dependent, underscoring the need for nuanced and comparative research moving forward.
Response by Professor Joan Font
In his response, Professor Joan Font offered a reflective and methodologically self-critical engagement with the comments raised by participants, while clarifying key conceptual and empirical dimensions of his research on public attitudes toward artificial intelligence in governance.
A central theme of Professor Font’s intervention was the need to more explicitly integrate political theory into empirical research. Responding to remarks by Dr. Hasanović, he acknowledged that while his study implicitly addresses questions of political legitimacy, this foundational concept was not sufficiently foregrounded in the analysis. He identified this as a broader limitation within public opinion research, which often prioritizes operationalization and statistical modeling at the expense of deeper theoretical engagement. Moving forward, he suggested that a more explicit articulation of the relationship between public attitudes and legitimacy would significantly strengthen the analytical framework.
Responding to the question regarding whether artificial intelligence can be conceptualized as a political agent, Professor Font approached the issue with caution. While recognizing that AI increasingly performs functions that resemble decision-making authority, he did not endorse the view of AI as a fully autonomous political agent. Rather, he implied that AI should be understood as part of a continuum of decision-making arrangements shaped by human design, institutional contexts, and political actors. In this sense, AI may exercise delegated or mediated agency, but its authority remains embedded within—and ultimately dependent upon—human-driven structures of governance and accountability. This perspective aligns with his broader emphasis on legitimacy, suggesting that the critical question is not whether AI is an agent in itself, but how its use affects citizens’ perceptions of legitimate political authority.
Professor Font also addressed concerns regarding the conceptualization of artificial intelligence and the categorization of its roles. He recognized that the term “levels of decision-making authority,” employed in his study, may obscure important distinctions between qualitatively different uses of AI—ranging from routine administrative functions to more speculative or high-stakes political applications. While he justified the inclusion of this broad spectrum on the grounds that such uses are either already implemented or actively debated by political actors, he conceded that a more precise conceptual differentiation would enhance clarity and interpretive rigor.
Turning to the empirical findings, Professor Font acknowledged the limitations of survey-based research in establishing causal mechanisms. In particular, he reflected on the observed correlation between support for AI and what he termed “market-driven authoritarianism.” Rather than indicating outright anti-democratic attitudes, he suggested that this orientation may reflect a pragmatic willingness to prioritize efficiency and outcomes over procedural democratic norms—an interpretation that remains tentative but theoretically suggestive.
Finally, addressing questions of external validity, Professor Font noted that while Spain’s limited experience with technocratic governance may constrain generalization, comparative evidence—particularly from Germany—indicates similar attitudinal patterns. This suggests a degree of cross-national applicability, albeit with important contextual caveats.
Conclusion
Session 14 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop Series demonstrated that artificial intelligence can no longer be treated as an external or merely technical supplement to democratic life. Across the presentations and discussions, a shared insight emerged: AI, algorithms, and platform infrastructures are increasingly involved in shaping not only political communication and administrative decision-making, but also cultural memory, class consciousness, and the very conditions under which “the people” can be imagined and articulated.
What made the session especially valuable was its interdisciplinary breadth. Professor Joan Font’s empirical analysis illuminated the normative tensions surrounding algorithmic legitimacy; Alonso Escamilla’s exploratory study revealed the cultural and epistemic implications of generative AI; Aly Hill showed how Big Tech is reconfiguring populist narratives and working-class subjectivities; and Amina Vatreš offered a powerful theoretical account of identity formation in an algorithmically mediated world. The discussants further enriched the exchange by foregrounding the political economy of AI, the erosion of democratic norms, and the structural limits of digital agency.
Taken together, the session suggested that the future of democracy will depend not simply on whether AI is adopted, but on how it is governed, by whom, and in whose interests. If digital systems increasingly structure the horizons of visibility, participation, and legitimacy, then democratic theory and practice must confront the challenge of ensuring that these emerging infrastructures do not deepen depoliticization, fragmentation, and inequality, but instead remain subject to critical scrutiny, public accountability, and democratic contestation.
Professor Marlene Wind argues that Denmark’s 2026 general election is not only a contest over leadership and crisis management, but also a revealing test of how liberal democracies internalize radical-right agendas. In her interview with the ECPS, Professor Wind contends that mainstream Danish parties have “absorbed, not neutralized, the radical right,” warning that electoral containment has too often meant ideological normalization. Situating the campaign within the wider context of Trump’s pressure over Greenland, Europe’s security crisis, and Denmark’s pragmatic turn toward the EU, she highlights the deeper structural dilemmas facing contemporary democracy: the normalization of restrictive politics, the fragility of liberal institutions, and the growing entanglement between populist forces, geopolitical instability, and weakened democratic boundaries. Denmark, in her view, offers a critical case for understanding these broader European transformations.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Marlene Wind—Professor of Political Science at the University of Copenhagen and Director of the Centre for European Politics—offers a penetrating analysis of Denmark’s parliamentary election campaign against the backdrop of geopolitical rupture, institutional recalibration, and the longer-term normalization of radical-right politics. As Denmark heads toward the March 24, 2026 general election, the contest has unfolded under the shadow of Donald Trump’s renewed pressure over Greenland, a crisis that briefly revived Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen’s standing after months of domestic political weakness. Reuters reported that Frederiksen’s Social Democrats rebounded from a December polling low of 17% to around 22% in recent weeks, while the broader electoral landscape remained fragmented and without a clear majority for either bloc.
Yet for Professor Wind, the most consequential issue is not simply whether Frederiksen’s crisis management can secure a third term. Rather, the Danish case exposes a more structural dilemma at the heart of contemporary European democracy: how mainstream actors respond when radical-right agendas become embedded within the political center. This concern is captured in the interview’s headline argument: “Mainstream parties in Denmark have absorbed, not neutralized, the radical right.” Professor Wind also cautions that “the argument that we have managed to eradicate the extreme right is simply not accurate,” because “the policies adopted by the majority of politicians and political parties… have effectively incorporated right-wing positions.” The result, she argues, is not democratic containment but ideological normalization.
Professor Wind’s intervention is especially timely because the election has developed at the intersection of two seemingly contradictory dynamics. On the one hand, geopolitics has returned forcefully to Danish politics: Trump’s Greenland posture, Russia’s war against Ukraine, and uncertainty surrounding transatlantic guarantees have elevated questions of sovereignty, territorial integrity, and Europe’s strategic future. On the other hand, the campaign itself has remained anchored in domestic concerns—cost of living, welfare, migration, leadership fatigue, and social trust. As Professor Wind observes, geopolitics has functioned largely as “a background condition for everything else,” not as a fully articulated debate about Denmark’s future in Europe.
Within that setting, her analysis moves beyond the immediate election cycle to a broader diagnosis of European political development. She argues that Denmark’s majoritarian political culture, limited judicial review, and long-standing transactional view of European integration have made it easier to mainstream restrictive agendas without eliminating their social base. Indeed, she notes, aggregate support for right-wing parties remains “roughly 17% to 20%,” even if now dispersed across smaller formations. That continuity leads to her central normative warning: “Adopting the positions of the extreme right is not an effective strategy to counter it.”
In sum, Professor Wind’s remarks present Denmark not as an exceptional success story in containing the far right, but as a revealing case of how liberal democracies may gradually internalize the very forces they claim to resist.
Dr. Oludele Solaja’s analysis introduces the concept of “Algorithmic Environmental Populism” to illuminate how digital platforms are reshaping the politics of waste across African cities. Moving beyond conventional policy-centered approaches, Dr. Solaja demonstrates how environmental degradation—from plastic pollution to urban flooding—has become a site of algorithmically mediated political contestation. In this emerging landscape, complex ecological crises are reframed into morally charged narratives of blame, privileging visibility, outrage, and immediacy over systemic understanding. By linking populism theory with digital governance and environmental politics, the article offers a novel framework for understanding how platform logics transform ecological grievances into potent political forces. It is an essential contribution to debates on populism, digital media, and environmental governance in the Global South.
Environmental politics is now occurring not only at policy and infrastructure levels, but also through algorithms—from the clogged drains of Lagos to flood-prone Accra to landfills in South Africa. Environmental degradation has become a politically charged phenomenon on social media, and the sensational, outrage-driven, and immediate nature of these platforms has created an environment where narratives of blame outpace formal, institutional action. I refer to this new phenomenon as Algorithmic Environmental Populism, and I argue that digital infrastructure has become paramount in the formation, circulation, and contestation of ecological grievances.
The environmental crisis is no longer merely a management problem but a digitally mediated political language across the African continent, in which grievance, blame, and claims to power or moral legitimacy are performed. Plastic pollution, floods, burning dumpsites, and informal recycling have entered platform ecologies within which, according to a range of criteria, the most intense, visible, and confrontational content receives algorithmic attention. From this combination emerges a condition in which the environmental crisis is abstracted from complex systemic causes and reframed as a direct moral confrontation between “the people” and villains: polluters, corrupt elites, those who ship waste to Africa, and absent governments. In this process, platform algorithms prioritize the most engaging framing rather than the most policy-relevant one (Zeng & Schfer, 2023; Heidenreich et al., 2022).
The concept offers a way of extending understandings of populism and digital media, by foregrounding the environmental as a key site of algorithmically mediated political struggle. Classical theory on populism deals with the ideological construction of ‘the people’ and ‘the elite,’ while the infrastructures through which populist rhetoric is dispersed have been historically overlooked. Algorithmic Environmental Populism instead draws focus to platform logics, showing how they shape the contours and narratives of ecological complaint. By this it builds on research on algorithmic governance, the increasing role of algorithms in policy perception and the legitimacy of state power (Parthasarathy & Rajala, 2023).
In African cities the role of algorithms in producing a political context for waste is further amplified by its material presence on everyday life. Clogged drains, plastic-choked lagoons, burning dump sites and litter, produces and feeds readily available data streams, which produce, or a “condition of constant possibility” for data to be recorded and transmitted, resulting in environmental breakdown becoming rapidly politicisable. Take, for example, Nigeria. When the Lagos State government implemented restrictions on single-use plastics in 2025, environmental considerations took a back seat to narratives of bias, and selective policy enforcement. Viral image of floodwater pouring through plastic-clogged drains fed accusatory commentary that blamed the state, turning environmental degradation into a performance of political betrayal.
Although it is true that a massive volume of plastic waste is annually dumped in Lagos State, these digital conversations tend to flatten the systems behind environmental degradation into morally legible pronouncements of blame and victimhood, which are amplified in the digital domain for emotional impact, rather than for systemic nuance (Couldry & Mejias, 2023).
The significance of such arguments for politics in Africa is that these stories become diagnostically central. In such cases, a multiple-layered system of production, consumption, municipal service provision and global trade are collapsed into stark oppositional narratives because it is the only way in which environmental problems can be successfully broadcast within an algorithmic environment, where visibility takes priority over complexity. As digital media research shows, what gets amplified is content that triggers reactions: outrage, pity, and the assignment of blame.
Similarly, we can observe this in Kenya where political activism is closely tied to moral pronouncements. Though debates exist surrounding extended producer responsibility, green economy initiatives, and refill systems; their manifestation in the digital space, in an effort to capture attention and elicit reaction, tends to focus on “blame-allocation” rather than the mechanics of institutional responsibility between citizens, corporations, and the state. Floods in Kenya’s urban centers of Nairobi and Mombasa provided highly visual and charged contexts to exacerbate these dynamics, producing further blame-oriented discourse regarding governmental incompetence and the inadequacy of infrastructure. In essence, the digitally mediated form of this political problem is not merely transmitting it; it is actively transforming it.
Another significant dimension of the digital landscape is how it also creates new forms of political subjectivity. Waste pickers and scavengers, once entirely invisible components of the informal city, are now visible. They challenge their invisibility through interventions in the digital domain, attempting to recover material flows and claim their political agency. They are now recognized as integral parts of urban recycling systems, while remaining ignored in the policy sphere (Njeru & Ochieng, 2025). Their visibility can be attributed to algorithms that amplify their stories, portraying them as overlooked labor fighting back against systemic neglect. Locally based actions, such as coastal clean-ups by youth groups in Kenya, become symbolical performances. The clean-up has the effect of politicizing the environment, either as an assertion of the citizen’s responsibility, as an attack on state incompetence or as a demonstration of collaborative effort. Environmental activism is transformed into a moral battlefield on the digital platform.
In South Africa we see a similar phenomenon of politically charged, algorithmically amplified resistance to landfill expansion and waste siting decisions. In 2026 protests against landfill development in urban periphery settlements, turned into a national narrative of social and environmental injustice through media mobilization; landfill as a continuance of structural violence through spatial inequalities. The discourse produced and amplified across the networks links contemporary exposure to historical environmental inequities through these landfill developments. Here Algorithmic Environmental Populism and environmental justice are closely interwoven, as the narratives attributed to technology and its governance are interpreted through morally loaded systems of victimhood and violence. The broader implications of Algorithmic Environmental Populism in Africa are that the histories of unequally mediated ecological flows, including plastics, second-hand goods and e-waste that flow into African cities and homes as waste from global consumption and production patterns. Such stories tend to produce a framing where the external imposition of blame arises from deeper historical conditions known as waste colonialism – an unequal world where states and their inhabitants bear uneven burdens of waste (Mah, 2024; Dauvergne, 2022).
This links directly into concepts of waste sovereignty – a state of ownership and control over material waste flows, their meanings and governance. In the digital space, sovereignty can now be enacted through the control of narrative. Those able to frame environmental crises in terms of simple, easily accessible, morally legible oppositions, are gaining political ground regardless of their technical knowledge. Environmental politics of waste is no longer a question of physical waste, or of policy-makers’ actions, but increasingly a matter of the visibility of what it is that matters and to whom it matters, a battle of recognition, and control, within platform governed space.
Therefore, I suggest a three-stage process of digitally mediated waste politics: first, visible urban environmental decay; second, morally legible frames of attribution; and third, algorithmically favored amplification. It is in these stages that complexity is simplified and environmental disaster turns into visible, and therefore governable, political matter.
A certain democratizing aspect is that it allows for participation on new grounds, where citizens, informal waste workers and activist groups can join in debates around the environment on the internet. The downside is that these systems allow for a contraction of discourse: immediate visibility takes the form of sensation and outrage over deliberative engagement, bringing together political mobilization and propaganda (Heidenreich et al., 2022). Consequently, the environment has begun to be spoken of in conflicting terms: critical discourse clashes with simplified frameworks of accusation. A street in Accra that floods, or a dirty drainage canal in Kenya, or a burning landfill in South Africa, are instantly turned into evidence against the state, corporations, or the global system, obscuring underlying complexities.
This new discourse dynamic has major implications for environmental governance. Effectiveness is no longer solely about design and capacity but also about how environmental policies are understood, accepted, and engaged with on line. Municipalities and governments, as well as non-profit organizations need to operate in the digital space to manage the material and political aspects of waste. Scholars of environmental data governance agree that algorithms are key in framing environmental information (Gabrys, 2023). This is also significant for populist politics; waste cannot continue to be seen as an auxiliary or an afterthought. Instead, it has to be seen as a key component of the negotiations around citizenship, inequality, sovereignty and state power; the material traces of society that make social tensions visible and open to struggle. Algorithmic Environmental Populism provides an explanatory frame that connects environmental governance, digital media, and populist politics together, and helps to make sense of the way ecological grievance can be translated into potent political force by means of technologically managed visibility.
In short, the environmental politics of waste in Africa is no longer solely regulated by state and international institutions; its regulation is also about what becomes visible and how, within the spaces that platform logics control. What is now at stake is how we see waste, what we make of it in the discourse we construct, and the meaning that it is given within our digitally mediated attention economies. This transformation is an emblem of a broader shift: authority is no longer held by those who convene political discussions in spaces that are free from the influence of amplification. The management of waste, therefore, involves managing its meaning, a task that in the digital age depends greatly on the very politics of platforms.
References
Couldry, N. & Mejias, U. A. (2023). “Data colonialism and the future of social order.” New Media & Society, 25(4), 945–962.
Dauvergne, P. (2022). “Waste, pollution, and the global plastic crisis.” Global Environmental Politics, 22(1), 1–10.
Gabrys, J. (2023). “Digital waste and environmental data politics.” Information, Communication & Society, 26(9), 1785–1801.
Heidenreich, T., et al. (2022). “Populism and digital media: A comparative perspective.” Political Communication, 39(3), 345–362.
Mah, A. (2024). “Waste colonialism and global inequality.” Nature Sustainability, 7(1), 12–15.
Njeru, J. & Ochieng, C. (2025). “Plastic waste governance and informal economies in Africa.” Environmental Politics, 34(2), 256–275.
Parthasarathy, S. & Rajala, R. (2023). “Algorithmic governance and environmental policy.” Regulation & Governance, 17(4), 987–1003.
Zeng, J. & Schäfer, M. S. (2023). “Conceptualizing algorithmic populism.” New Media & Society, 25(8), 2015–2032.
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain offers a nuanced and cautionary reading of Nepal’s post-election moment, arguing that the March 2026 vote should not be seen simply as a democratic breakthrough. While the rise of Balendra “Balen” Shah and the Rastriya Swatantra Party marks a clear rupture in elite continuity, Humagain warns that Nepal’s deeper political logic remains shaped by “institutionalized populism.” He emphasizes that the country is emerging from “a kind of institutionalized gray zone,” yet still faces serious challenges of accountability, parliamentary weakness, and policy incoherence. For Humagain, the election has validated long-standing public questions about corruption, patronage, and ineffective governance—but not yet their answers. Nepal, he suggests, stands at a critical juncture: not at the summit of democratic renewal, but “at base camp,” where the hard work of institutional reform has only just begun.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Sanjeev Humagain, a political scientist at Nepal Open University, offers a nuanced and theoretically grounded assessment of Nepal’s evolving political landscape in the aftermath of the March 2026 general election. While widely interpreted as a rupture driven by Gen Z mobilization and anti-elite sentiment, Dr. Humagain cautions against overly celebratory readings of the electoral outcome. Instead, he situates the moment within a longer trajectory of institutional fragility, elite circulation, and the deepening entrenchment of populist political practices.
At first glance, the electoral victory of Balendra “Balen” Shah and the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) appears to mark a decisive break with the post-1990 political order. As Dr. Humagain notes, “the rise of the Rastriya Swatantra Party… represents a clear break from that pattern,” emphasizing that “for the first time, we are witnessing an overwhelmingly large number of new members in Parliament.” This influx of political newcomers—many lacking prior ministerial experience—signals a disruption of long-standing elite continuity and suggests the possibility of institutional renewal.
Yet, as the interview unfolds, Dr. Humagain complicates this narrative of democratic transformation. He underscores that Nepal’s political trajectory has long been characterized not by linear democratization but by movement across “a kind of institutionalized gray zone,” where “there was a serious erosion of accountability” and persistent threats to democratic consolidation. In this context, the current electoral moment represents less a definitive transition than a “critical juncture”whose direction remains uncertain.
Central to Dr. Humagain’s analysis is the argument that Nepal’s contemporary politics is shaped by a deeply embedded form of populism. While new actors and generational dynamics have reshaped the electoral arena, they have not necessarily displaced the underlying logic of governance. As he warns, “the other side of the coin is that Nepali politics has already been shaped by populism for at least a decade,” characterized by “the personalization of politics” and the marginalization of institutional mechanisms such as parliament and party structures. This personalization, he argues, has rendered “several key institutions dysfunctional,” raising fundamental questions about the durability of democratic accountability.
Importantly, Dr. Humagain highlights a paradox at the heart of Nepal’s current transformation. While voters have clearly rejected established parties and endorsed systemic critique, they have not yet converged around a coherent programmatic alternative. “The questions have been approved,” he observes, noting that citizens have given new political actors “the mandate to find meaningful and democratic answers.” However, “it is not that a clear direction has already been determined”—a condition he captures through the evocative metaphor that “Nepal is at the beginning of a new journey—we are at base camp, not at the top of the mountain.”
It is precisely within this unresolved space that the central challenge emerges. Despite electoral change, Dr. Humagain expresses concern that “the populism that has already become deeply institutionalized will persist in the coming years.”This persistence, he argues, will generate “ongoing challenges for democratic accountability” and hinder efforts to strengthen parliamentary governance. In this sense, Nepal’s post-election moment is not merely a story of democratic renewal, but a test of whether institutional reform can overcome the enduring legacy of populist political logic.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Dr. Sanjeev Humagain, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
The Rise of the RSP Marks a Clear Break from Nepal’s Old Elite Pattern
Voter education volunteer instructs residents on using a sample ballot in Ward No. 4, Inaruwa, Nepal, February 17, 2026, as part of a local election awareness program led by the Sunsari Election Office. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula / Dreamstime.
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain, welcome, and let me begin with a foundational question: In your work on “exclusive parliamentary politics,” you argue that Nepal’s democratic system has long been dominated by entrenched elites despite formal electoral competition. To what extent does the rise of independent figures like Balendra “Balen” Shah represent a rupture in this elite continuity, or merely a reconfiguration of elite circulation?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: I think there are some fundamental questions we need to address at this moment. Since 1990, as I have argued in my academic work, a very limited group of political leaders has circulated within the cabinet—replacing one another over time, with the same prime ministers repeatedly returning to power.In this context, the rise of the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP), as well as the emergence of Balendra Shah, represents a clear break from that pattern.For the first time, we are witnessing an overwhelmingly large number of new members in Parliament, which will inevitably shape the composition of the new cabinet. I expect that nearly 90% of ministers will, for the first time, lack prior ministerial experience.In that sense, this election marks a significant departure from the political continuity we have observed since 1990.
Nepal Has Long Moved from One Gray Zone to Another
You have highlighted the persistence of feckless pluralism and weak democratic performance in Nepal’s post-1990 trajectory. Does the recent electoral volatility suggest a deepening of democratic accountability—or a further erosion of institutional stability?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That’s another important question. Not only I, but also the academic literature—for example Thomas A. Marks in 2002—identified Nepal as an example of feckless pluralism. What has happened here is that, since 1990, there have been several political transitions.
Until 1996, we had three elections. Then came the Maoist civil war, followed by the abolition of the monarchy and the establishment of a republican state in 2008. Another major transition occurred in 2015. In short, there have been numerous changes. However, these shifts were not from undemocratic to fully democratic systems; rather, they moved from one gray zone to another. In that sense, Nepal experienced a kind of institutionalized gray zone, which is deeply concerning. During this period, there was a serious erosion of accountability, and, as you noted, significant threats to the institutionalization of democracy.
I think Nepali politics has now begun to move out of this zone, but it remains to be seen whether it will evolve into a process-oriented, accountable democratic system or drift into another gray zone. Some signs of populism are already visible. Still, this is a critical juncture, as the country has at least started to emerge from that phase.
Gen Z Movement Is the Result of a Long-Term Shift in Political Discourse
Many Nepali citizens join Gen Z–led protests in Bhojpur, Nepal on September 9, 2025, showing solidarity with nationwide demonstrations. Photo: Dipesh Rai.
Your research on the structural determinants of democratic consolidation suggests that macro-level conditions in Nepal remain unfavorable. How should we interpret the apparent “Gen Z surge” in this context: as a corrective force, or as a symptom of systemic fragility?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: I think this reflects a very important particularity of Nepal, which is not common in many countries around the world. When a society undergoes rapid modernization, it typically develops new cities, new media, new educational institutions, and a broad expansion of citizen participation across social and political spheres. This process usually generates social capital and an organized middle class, which can give rise to new political parties and serve as a pillar of democracy. Historically, this pattern has been evident over the last 200–300 years, particularly in Western contexts, as well as in countries such as South Korea and Taiwan.
However, in Nepal, the situation is different. While we do observe key indicators of modernization—improvements in education, strong communication networks, rapid digitalization, and the proliferation of new media—the social base that typically drives democratic consolidation is largely absent domestically. Those who would constitute the middle class in industrialized contexts are often not in the country. Instead, they are working abroad—in places such as Kuala Lumpur, Seoul, and Riyadh.
As a result, these individuals, who contribute economically to modernization, have remained largely absent from direct political participation for an extended period. This has made the Nepali case distinct. As you rightly noted, their engagement is mediated primarily through social media. They express their views not through voting, but through digital platforms, often because they are unable to return home to participate in elections.
At the same time, they are shaping a discourse that tends to prioritize economic development over redistributive or democratic concerns, at least temporarily. Ironically, many Nepalese working abroad are employed in non-democratic countries, and the perspectives they transmit back home often reflect that experience—sometimes questioning the necessity of elections or political contestation.
These dynamics have made them important sources of new political narratives. The Gen Z movement is rooted in this evolving discourse, which has developed over at least a decade. It is not a sudden phenomenon, but rather the result of a long-term shift in how political ideas are formed and circulated in Nepal.
Reform, Not Change, May Be the New Currency of Nepali Politics
In your analysis of party evolution, you identify multiple “waves” of party formation driven by identity, institutional incentives, and political learning. Would you situate the rise of new actors such as the Rastriya Swatantra Party (RSP) and independent candidates as a fourth wave—perhaps defined by digital mobilization and anti-party sentiment?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That is an interesting question—almost like homework for me—because my earlier analysis covered developments up to 2013–15. My concern at the time was that many political scientists tended to place all political parties in the same category. My work aimed to show that they are not the same.
We had strong ideological parties formed in opposition to autocratic rule. At the same time, some parties expanded within parliament during the period when identity politics was prominent in the Constituent Assembly, while others emerged directly from identity-based movements. That was the framework I developed.
You are right that this new party does not fit neatly into those three categories, so it could be seen as a fourth wave. However, we still need to be cautious before reaching a definitive conclusion. I am not entirely certain that we can fully describe it as a completely new party.
There are two points to consider. First, the prime ministerial candidate, Balendra Shah, was previously the mayor of Kathmandu Metropolitan City, the capital of Nepal. Second, the president of the Rastriya Swatantra Party is a former Home Minister and Deputy Prime Minister. Moreover, more than half of the party’s candidates had some form of prior affiliation with other political parties before joining this one. In that sense, can we really call it an entirely new party? This remains a question that requires further observation over time.
That said, you are correct in noting that, until the third wave, political movements were the primary drivers behind the rise of parties. This party, however, did not emerge from such movements or from a broader agenda of systemic change. This is a significant development in Nepalese political history.
Historically, “change” has been the central currency of major political parties in Nepal, dating back to the 1950s. In contrast, this party appears to prioritize reform rather than change. In that sense, for the first time in Nepal’s political history, we may be witnessing the emergence of a kind of conservative party—one that does not emphasize rapid transformation, but instead advocates gradual, step-by-step reform.
If the party continues along this path in government over the next five years, it could generate a new form of political polarization and establish itself as a distinct fourth wave. However, based solely on its formation process and candidate composition, it is still too early to definitively categorize it as such.
A New Polarization Between Reform and Continuity Is Taking Shape
Nepal police during riots in Kathmandu. Photo: Ardo Holts / Dreamstime.
Your Kathmandu Post article questions whether recent elections reflect swing voting or polarization. Given the persistence of party membership networks, is Nepal witnessing genuine dealignment—or simply a reconfiguration of partisan loyalties?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That was the article I wrote two years ago, during the elections, when the Nepalese media were largely suggesting that Nepal had a significant number of swing voters. I argued that this was not swing voting, but rather the emergence of a new kind of polarization. This time, however, the situation appears quite different.
What is notable now is that even the major political parties of the past are questioning why their core members did not vote for them. Connecting this to your earlier question, Nepal seems to be experiencing a high level of dealignment. People are no longer strongly inclined to define themselves through partisan identities, which were quite prominent in the 1990s and the early 2000s.
In that sense, Nepal is undergoing a process of depoliticization. I have recently written in a Nepali newspaper that the results of these elections can be understood through a key lens: the breakdown of party patronage. Party patronage was a central driver of electoral success until the previous elections. Candidates would visit towns and promise tangible benefits—sometimes development projects, sometimes personal favors—in exchange for votes. However, this system now appears to have weakened significantly. At the same time, the fact that nearly half of the voters supported a single party suggests the emergence of a new form of polarization.
As I mentioned earlier, this polarization is structured around reform versus continuity. Established parties argue that they have delivered substantial progress—improvements in infrastructure, healthcare, and education—and that their achievements are underappreciated. In contrast, new political actors contend that existing parties lack sincerity and accountability, and that corruption is pervasive, making reform imperative. So, a new polarization is clearly emerging. Compared to the elections two years ago, there is also a much stronger swing. The deeper implications of this shift are likely to persist, and Nepalese politics may remain unstable for years, perhaps even decades. The long-standing 30-year pattern of competition between communist and liberal forces has now been disrupted.
The key question is how this will evolve into a new form of polarization. In any political system, polarization cannot be eliminated; it tends to develop in cycles shaped by socioeconomic conditions. At times, politics gravitates toward redistribution, while at other times it emphasizes economic growth. In Nepal’s case, the country has moved beyond traditional party patronage, but a new, stable form of polarization has not yet fully consolidated. This will be one of the most important dynamics to watch in Nepalese politics over the coming decade.
Nepal Is at Base Camp, Not Yet at the Summit of Democratic Reform
You note that informal networks remain central to electoral success. How does this reliance on patronage and personalized networks interact with the growing visibility of issue-based, urban, and digitally mobilized voters?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That’s a very interesting aspect of Nepali elections at this time.I think we need to categorize this into three different segments. The first segment is that, from 1990 to the 2022 elections, party patronage dominated. It depended on informal networks; for instance, candidates would count the houses in villages and say, “Okay, I’ll take care of this, I’ll handle this, don’t worry, I will get the votes from there.” These kinds of informal networks were central, and electoral campaigns were mostly based on convincing local allies and influencing voters through them. That remained the norm.
Things started to break down in the last local and parliamentary elections. Balendra Shah himself, as an independent candidate, won the election in Kathmandu Metropolitan City. Similarly, in other sub-metropolitan cities, such as Dharan or Itahari, independent candidates also succeeded. This was the first signal that party patronage would not work in urban areas.
At the same time, the role of new media—particularly social media—became key in shaping voters’ attitudes. The use of social media has become a central strategy for winning votes.
In these elections, another segment has also emerged. The whole of Nepal has, in a sense, accepted fundamental questions about the system. It is not simply about which political party won or who will be the next prime minister. Rather, it is about broader concerns regarding the efficiency, productivity, and accountability of the system, which have been endorsed by voters. However, the important point is that while the questions have been accepted, the answers have not yet been fully articulated. There are no clear solutions so far, even among the new parties. Although they have presented many well-formulated ideas, the broader vision of the new cabinet and the priorities of parliament remain to be defined.
So, my point is that the questions have been approved. Citizens have given the Rastriya Swatantra Party the mandate to find meaningful and democratic answers to the issues that have been on the table for the last three decades. It is not that a clear direction has already been determined. Nepal is at the beginning of a new journey—we are at base camp, not at the top of the mountain. From this base camp, it is now necessary to develop a strategic roadmap to reach the summit.
Institutionalized Populism Will Continue to Challenge Democratic Accountability
Thousands joined a joint morning procession organized by the CPN-UML and Nepali Congress district committees in Inaruwa Bazaar on September 19, 2025, to mark Constitution Day. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula.
In your recent work, you argue that Nepali populism is increasingly characterized by personalization and utility-based politics, with ideology playing a diminishing role. How does Balendra Shah’s political style fit within this framework—does he embody a new form of technocratic populism?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That’s a very important point to consider—the other side of the coin.Until now, you and I have been discussing one side of the coin, the change dimension, and we have been in a position to suggest that there is significant change in Nepali politics. However, the other side of the coin is that Nepali politics has already been shaped by populism for at least a decade.
The key dimensions of that populism, as you mentioned, are twofold. First is the personalization of politics—meaning the marginalization of institutions such as Parliament, the Cabinet, and the central committees of political parties. The Prime Minister increasingly behaves like an elected president. The Prime Minister’s residence, for instance, has become highly visible in daily news, almost like the White House. This personalization of politics has been one of the most serious threats to Nepali democracy. It has rendered several key institutions dysfunctional, including Parliament, which has remained largely ineffective for nearly two decades.
The second dimension relates to how Nepal has addressed socioeconomic inequality. Since 2006–07, there has been a broad recognition that the country faces deep structural inequalities. It has also been acknowledged that addressing these inequalities requires two things: first, inclusive participation in decision-making processes and institutions; and second, a capability-based approach to empowerment, given that discrimination has persisted for centuries.
In theory, Nepal’s political system was designed along these lines. However, in practice, it has diverged significantly. Political leaders have increasingly emphasized utility—focusing on majoritarian gains and immediate benefits—often at the expense of minority rights and long-term structural reforms.
In this context, the rise of the Rastriya Swatantra Party and Balendra Shah does not necessarily signal a departure from these underlying dynamics. It is difficult to assume that Nepali politics has fundamentally changed. The core worldview and governing logic of the state are likely to remain the same.
I am concerned that the populism that has already become deeply institutionalized will persist in the coming years. This will create ongoing challenges for democratic accountability, as well as for strengthening and institutionalizing parliamentary politics. I think that is the central challenge facing Nepali politics today.
Nepal’s Political Shift Closely Reflects the Global Democratic Recession
You describe populism in Nepal as moving toward a more right-leaning, communitarian discourse that balances order and freedom. How does this shift compare with global patterns of populism, particularly in Europe and South Asia?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: Yes, that’s true, and Nepal has almost always moved in line with global waves.If you look at the political trajectory of the country, it closely mirrors broader global developments. Nepal experienced democratization in the 1950s, followed by an authoritarian regime beginning in the 1960s that lasted until the 1990s. Since the 1990s, democratic practices have taken root, and from 2006–07 onward, redistributive policies also began to emerge. These developments have largely followed patterns similar to global trends.
More recently, the global shift toward center-right, leadership-driven politics—particularly characterized by strong, charismatic leaders—has also become visible in Nepal. I see clear parallels with developments in both Western and South Asian countries. The emphasis on growth-first approaches, where economic development is prioritized over other concerns, is also very similar.
I think the experiences of countries like Bangladesh and India—where strong economic growth has been associated with charismatic leadership—have had a significant impact on how people in Kathmandu perceive politics. Larry Diamond has described this broader trend as a democratic recession, and many of its features can be clearly observed in Kathmandu and across Nepal. So, Nepal is not following a distinct path; rather, it is part of the same global wave—the rise of center-right populism and charismatic, leader-centric governance.
Nepal’s Anti-Establishment Voice Has Largely Come from Above, Not from Below
A Nepali farmer at work in a rural field during the monsoon season. As the rains arrive, farmers across Nepal become busy in their fields, though most still rely on traditional farming techniques. Photo: Shishir Gautam.
To what extent should Nepal’s current political moment be understood through the lens of “designer populism from above” versus grassroots anti-establishment mobilization?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That’s a tough question—a very tough one. What I do agree with is that I really like the term you used, “anti-establishment.” People were not simply criticizing political parties; their distrust and questions were also directed toward the media, schools, and universities—in other words, the entire establishment. So, you are right in suggesting that people were questioning the whole establishment.
But the key question is: who was expressing this anger, and who was at the forefront of raising these concerns? Interestingly, many of those in the front line were individuals from the major political parties—such as the Nepali Congress, RSP, and The Communist Party of Nepal (Unified Marxist–Leninist- UML). Even within Parliament, they were pointing to various forms of nexus—sometimes political, sometimes bureaucratic—as underlying causes of low accountability and ineffective governance. So, even leaders from parties in government were raising these questions. In that sense, it is more accurate to understand these dynamics as voices emerging from above rather than from below. As I mentioned earlier, people largely approved these questions silently.
This is my main analytical framework for understanding these elections. It was not the answers that were debated—there was no substantial policy debate. Quite frankly, the electoral campaign was rather muted. What people seemed to do was to acknowledge that the questions being raised were valid.
So, the moment we are witnessing is one in which Nepal is being called upon to generate collective wisdom and provide meaningful answers to long-standing questions. These questions—such as weak intra-party democracy and entrenched networks—were raised from within the political system itself. In that sense, the anti-establishment voice has largely come from above, while voters at the grassroots level have silently—again, I would emphasize silently—endorsed these questions.
This Is Not Just a Generational Shift—It Is a Broader Political Shift
The recent electoral cycle has been widely interpreted as a “Gen Z revolution.” In your view, does this generational shift represent a substantive transformation in political participation—or a temporary protest against entrenched elites?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: I think both of your assumptions need some modification.What I believe is that there is a strong alliance between the voices of younger generations and those of senior citizens who fought for democracy. The rise of social media is quite significant in this regard, as it has brought all generations onto the same platform.
The questions raised by young people focus on three fundamental spheres. The first is the quality of education they receive. Many of their peers study abroad, and they hear that education systems are quite different there compared to Nepal.
The second is fairness in the job market. Fairness is not fully present in the private sector. Interestingly, public sector jobs are perceived as more fair, while private sector employment is often shaped by informal networks and personal recommendations.
The third issue is the slow development of infrastructure—especially roads and hydroelectricity. People aspire to better roads and stable energy, and these concerns directly affect their future.
These issues were initially raised by young people, but they have been taken up more broadly in society. Older generations have reframed them in terms of justice, arguing that the lack of attention to both physical and social development is turning Nepal into an unjust society.
In that sense, I would not simply describe this as a generational shift. It is more accurate to see it as a political shift. Previously, ideological divisions defined electoral competition, but now questions of justice have moved to the center and brought different generations together. The Rastriya Swatantra Party received close to 50% of the vote, which suggests that its support extends beyond young voters. While young people were the primary drivers and agenda-setters, their concerns were reinterpreted and amplified across society. This has generated something like a new social contract—perhaps not formally articulated, but nevertheless present as a shared understanding.
So, I think this should be seen as a broader political transformation. It is not just a temporary protest or short-term mobilization; rather, it is likely to have a gradual and lasting impact across the country.
The Challenge Now Is to Turn Electoral Legitimacy into Institutional Harmony
Given your findings on the perils of parliamentarism—particularly the role of dynastic politics and weak institutionalization—what constraints is a figure like Balen Shah likely to face when attempting to translate electoral legitimacy into effective governance?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: That’s a very important point, because the parliamentary system is, in many ways, a very good system, and I favor it, especially in the case of Nepal. We have significant ethnic and regional diversity, so the representation of each community in parliament—where laws are made—is essential. Having strong coordination among these representatives in the cabinet is also crucial. If the parliamentary system is used properly, this is a very positive feature.
At the same time, however, there are important challenges. The frequent change of governments, and the resulting inconsistency in policies, have been key concerns. In that sense, I argue that Nepal faces the same problems as other less institutionalized parliamentary systems. I think Balendra Shah has certain advantages in overcoming these challenges. First, his party has secured a majority in parliament, which is happening in Nepal for the first time since 1996. After such a long gap, this majority provides a significant advantage.
Another advantage is that, since this is not a coalition government, there is likely to be greater policy uniformity. Over the past two decades, there has often been policy conflict between the Prime Minister’s Office and key ministries—such as Finance or Home Affairs—because they were controlled by different political parties. Now, there is an opportunity to generate greater harmony.
I believe this creates favorable conditions for a more effective implementation of the parliamentary system in Nepal, similar to how it functioned in Japan after the Second World War, where parliamentary governance was accompanied by policy coherence. So, I do believe that this is a significant opportunity for the real implementation of the parliamentary system under this new government.
Nepal’s Future Depends on Turning Opportunity into Programmatic Reform
Durbar Square in Nepal on April 2011. Photo: Dreamstime.
And lastly, Dr. Humagain, looking ahead, do you see Nepal’s current moment as the beginning of a more programmatic, issue-based democracy driven by new generations—or as another cyclical phase of populist disruption within a structurally constrained political system?
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: As a citizen of this country, I do believe that the first option should be our path. As a responsible citizen, it is also my duty to raise concerns and encourage the government and parliament to move in that direction.However, looking at the current public discourse and available analyses—and even the responses of the newly elected party—I am not very optimistic so far. There are still unresolved questions regarding the political agenda. Some important issues have been raised, particularly concerning the effectiveness of federal structures, which have been central to political debate over the past decade.I believe it is essential, and also my responsibility, to encourage the government to adopt a priority-based approach to political, social, and economic agendas—focusing first on issues that can be addressed more immediately, before moving on to more complex, long-term challenges.
This is a crucial moment for Nepal’s future, especially as the new government is about to begin its work this Friday. Hopefully, this will lead, for the first time, to more program-based and programmatic discussions, both in parliament and in society. If such public debates emerge, Nepal will have an opportunity to choose the path that best serves its future. It is our collective responsibility to ensure that this opportunity is used in that direction.
Dr. Sanjay Humagain, thank you so much for your time. I appreciate it.
Dr. Sanjeev Humagain: Thank you very much for your time, and I wish you good luck in all the work you are doing. You are undertaking very important efforts, because, knowingly or unknowingly, the whole world has entered a populist era, which is not beneficial for everyone. It is therefore important to return to a rule-based, liberal order. Your efforts will contribute not only to our country but to the world as a whole, and I am truly glad that you have initiated this work.
Professor Marlene Wind argues that Denmark’s 2026 general election is not only a contest over leadership and crisis management, but also a revealing test of how liberal democracies internalize radical-right agendas. In her interview with the ECPS, Professor Wind contends that mainstream Danish parties have “absorbed, not neutralized, the radical right,” warning that electoral containment has too often meant ideological normalization. Situating the campaign within the wider context of Trump’s pressure over Greenland, Europe’s security crisis, and Denmark’s pragmatic turn toward the EU, she highlights the deeper structural dilemmas facing contemporary democracy: the normalization of restrictive politics, the fragility of liberal institutions, and the growing entanglement between populist forces, geopolitical instability, and weakened democratic boundaries. Denmark, in her view, offers a critical case for understanding these broader European transformations.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Marlene Wind—Professor of Political Science at the University of Copenhagen and Director of the Centre for European Politics—offers a penetrating analysis of Denmark’s parliamentary election campaign against the backdrop of geopolitical rupture, institutional recalibration, and the longer-term normalization of radical-right politics. As Denmark heads toward the March 24, 2026 general election, the contest has unfolded under the shadow of Donald Trump’s renewed pressure over Greenland, a crisis that briefly revived Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen’s standing after months of domestic political weakness. Reuters reported that Frederiksen’s Social Democrats rebounded from a December polling low of 17% to around 22% in recent weeks, while the broader electoral landscape remained fragmented and without a clear majority for either bloc.
Yet for Professor Wind, the most consequential issue is not simply whether Frederiksen’s crisis management can secure a third term. Rather, the Danish case exposes a more structural dilemma at the heart of contemporary European democracy: how mainstream actors respond when radical-right agendas become embedded within the political center. This concern is captured in the interview’s headline argument: “Mainstream parties in Denmark have absorbed, not neutralized, the radical right.” Professor Wind also cautions that “the argument that we have managed to eradicate the extreme right is simply not accurate,” because “the policies adopted by the majority of politicians and political parties… have effectively incorporated right-wing positions.” The result, she argues, is not democratic containment but ideological normalization.
Professor Wind’s intervention is especially timely because the election has developed at the intersection of two seemingly contradictory dynamics. On the one hand, geopolitics has returned forcefully to Danish politics: Trump’s Greenland posture, Russia’s war against Ukraine, and uncertainty surrounding transatlantic guarantees have elevated questions of sovereignty, territorial integrity, and Europe’s strategic future. On the other hand, the campaign itself has remained anchored in domestic concerns—cost of living, welfare, migration, leadership fatigue, and social trust. As Professor Wind observes, geopolitics has functioned largely as “a background condition for everything else,” not as a fully articulated debate about Denmark’s future in Europe.
Within that setting, her analysis moves beyond the immediate election cycle to a broader diagnosis of European political development. She argues that Denmark’s majoritarian political culture, limited judicial review, and long-standing transactional view of European integration have made it easier to mainstream restrictive agendas without eliminating their social base. Indeed, she notes, aggregate support for right-wing parties remains “roughly 17% to 20%,” even if now dispersed across smaller formations. That continuity leads to her central normative warning: “Adopting the positions of the extreme right is not an effective strategy to counter it.”
In sum, Professor Wind’s remarks present Denmark not as an exceptional success story in containing the far right, but as a revealing case of how liberal democracies may gradually internalize the very forces they claim to resist.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Marlene Wind, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Mainstreaming the Far Right Has Not Reduced Its Support
Pakistani or Indian migrants in Copenhagen, Denmark, September 22, 2017. Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Marlene Wind, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me begin with the broad picture. To what extent should the current Danish election be understood not merely as a domestic contest over welfare, inflation, and leadership fatigue, but as a referendum on sovereignty, geopolitical anxiety, and Denmark’s place in an increasingly post-Atlantic Europe?
Professor Marlene Wind: Thank you very much for having me here. I will try to answer as well as I can. I think there was some anticipation that this election would be largely about geopolitics and Denmark’s place in Europe. However, it has actually turned out to be more of a background condition for everything else.It has not been particularly dominant, even though there have, of course, been questions about who we can trust to run the government in times of crisis, and this kind of very broad framing of the situation. There has not really been any detailed discussion about what kind of Europe we should have if we can no longer trust the US after Greenland, and so on. It has remained in the background. I also think this has to do with the fact that journalists covering national elections tend to be quite narrow-minded in terms of what should be debated and asked about, focusing mainly on healthcare, immigration, and similar issues. So, while the international situation and geopolitics are certainly present, they have not displaced other debates.
In your work, you have explored the tension between national constitutional traditions and European integration. How do you interpret Mette Frederiksen’s transformation from one of Denmark’s most sovereignty-conscious and Eurosceptic leaders into a prime minister who now presents deeper European cooperation as a strategic necessity? Does this reflect ideological conversion, geopolitical realism, or a broader restructuring of Danish statecraft?
Professor Marlene Wind: It is really based on national interests. The current government, and in particular the Danish Prime Minister, has realized that everything Danish foreign policy has relied on since the Second World War has been NATO and our alliance with the Americans. This is also one of the reasons why Denmark has approached the EU in a very transactional way. We often accuse Trump of being transactional, but Denmark has also been incredibly transactional in its EU policy—and this is not limited to the current Prime Minister; it has been the case since we joined in 1973.
Our prime ministers and politicians more generally have viewed the European Union primarily as a market for creating wealth in Denmark—a market where we could sell our products—and little more. Every time we have held referendums on the EU over the years, the public debate has followed the same pattern: this will not become a federation, this will not become a political union. Please vote for this treaty; it will not develop into anything beyond a market. This reflects a consistently skeptical approach toward the more political idea of Europe. There has not really been much engagement with that dimension.
What has changed now is the impact of the illegal full-scale invasion of Ukraine, and, in particular, Donald Trump’s return to the White House—questioning support for Ukraine, questioning who is responsible for the war, and even questioning NATO, including whether the United States would honor Article 5 commitments. In response, the Danish Prime Minister has effectively made a U-turn.
Pragmatically, she has turned to her closest allies in Denmark and to civil servants, asking what the wisest course of action is. Europe is there, and it is the only viable option left. That explains this shift.
It is not driven by idealism or sentiment. It is highly pragmatic and transactional. The United States is no longer a reliable anchor in the same way. Geopolitics has fundamentally changed. And now, after 50 years of EU membership, we are finally beginning to see the EU as a more political entity than before—but this shift has emerged out of necessity and national interest, not out of idealism.
Denmark’s European Reorientation Reflects Geopolitical Realism, Not Ideological Conversion
Photo: Marian Vejcik | Dreamstime.
The Greenland dispute has elevated questions of sovereignty to the center of Danish politics. In your view, has Donald Trump’s revived interest in Greenland merely triggered a short-term “rally around the flag” effect, or has it fundamentally altered how Danes think about territorial integrity, alliance dependence, and the fragility of the liberal international order?
Professor Marlene Wind: I thinkit is fair to say that there was a distinct Greenland moment, during which many European leaders—until the threat to invade Greenland emerged—had tried to accommodate Trump and please him; I would even say to cozy up to him. We have seen this across many European governments.
However, when the threat to invade an ally and seize part of the territory of an allied kingdom materialized, both Danes and Europeans more broadly began to realize that we need to stand together and rethink our position. This has brought renewed attention to questions of territory, integrity, and sovereignty—but not sovereignty in the narrow sense of protecting only our own borders. We saw clearly that France, Germany, and even the UK, despite being outside the EU, came to Denmark’s support in this moment.
I also think that Danes have become much more aware of the importance of resisting aggressors who threaten territorial integrity. After all, Europe has effectively been in a state of conflict for four years—not only Ukraine in relation to Russia. The prevailing narrative has emphasized that countries must be able to protect their borders and determine for themselves whether they wish to be democracies.
For that reason, when Trump and the United States began threatening an ally, we quickly realized that such threats could also affect us. It is not only Ukraine that can be targeted by external actors; this is a broader phenomenon and a direct challenge to the liberal international order. The principles of territorial integrity and the right of countries to determine their own political systems must not be undermined by threats of force.
All these elements have converged in the Greenland crisis, and the parallels with Ukraine have been striking. After all, what have Ukrainians been doing for the past four years? They have been defending their territorial integrity. That is precisely the principle at stake when Trump threatened Denmark.
Trumpism as Symptom: The Rise of ‘Designer Populism’ from Above
How should we understand Trumpism in this Nordic context? Is Trump best seen as an external disruptor of Danish politics, or as a transnational amplifier of political tendencies that already exist within Europe—such as executive personalization, nationalist rhetoric, distrust of institutions, and the normalization of coercive sovereignty claims?
Professor Marlene Wind: I have written about this myself in my Tribalization of Europe book, which came out in 2020, that Trump, Brexit, and the erosion of democracy in Hungary, and earlier in Poland, are part of the same story. Even the return of Trump 2.0 has been inspired, to a large extent, by the populism and the extreme right that we have seen rising in Europe since 2010.So, I think Trump is a symptom not only of populism and its rise, but also of a new type of autocratic leadership—leaders who manipulate in order to gain and retain power.
Within the academic literature, there has been an ongoing debate. On the one hand, there is a left-wing analysis of populism that attributes it primarily to inequality. On the other hand, newer strands of research suggest that it is not the poorest who support autocrats, but rather segments of the middle classes who are receptive to narratives about external enemies, “draining the swamp,” and immigrants taking over society.
In my view, both Trump and many right-wing populists in Europe represent a largely top-down phenomenon. What we see is what I would call “designer politics”: political actors who deliberately construct narratives and manipulate conditions in order to secure and maintain power. They generate antagonisms by portraying elites as liberal or “woke,” and by identifying external and internal enemies.
This pattern is evident across Europe—in figures such as Nigel Farage, the AfD in Germany, Marine Le Pen, and previously in the Netherlands, as well as in many Central and Eastern European countries. It is, in fact, less about a dissatisfied citizenry rejecting liberal elites and more about kleptocracy and the concentration of power. If we look at the data, for example in Poland, we see that people have become increasingly affluent, yet still vote for right-wing parties.
A similar pattern can be observed in the United States. In 2016, it was not the poorest voters who supported Trump; many of them voted for Hillary Clinton. This suggests that we should be cautious about reducing these developments to questions of inequality alone. They also reflect the strategies of highly cynical political leaders who actively manufacture dissatisfaction, create antagonism, and construct narratives of threat from which they claim to offer protection.
Why the Far Right Persists in Denmark
Anti-Muslim demonstration by Stram Kurs and Rasmus Paludan, Frederikssund, Denmark, August 26, 2018. Photo: Stig Alenas | Dreamstime.
Denmark has long been seen as a case where mainstream parties absorbed parts of the anti-immigration agenda, thereby containing the electoral breakthrough of the far right. Do you see this as a successful inoculation strategy, or has it instead normalized core elements of far-right politics by translating them into state policy?
Professor Marlene Wind: To a large extent, it has become normalized in the Scandinavian countries. The reason it has been so easy to normalize is that we are not constitutional democracies; we are majoritarian democracies, where there is very little judicial review, and where there is no strong tradition of minorities challenging majority policies in court against a robust constitutional framework.We have a political culture in which the majority decides. In such an environment, it is much easier to normalize right-wing policies than in constitutional democracies, such as Germany, where minority groups can turn to the courts to assess whether policies are compatible with their rights and protections.
So, it has been easier in Denmark, and this process has been ongoing for many years. The argument that we have managed to eradicate the extreme right is simply not accurate. If you look at the policies adopted by the majority of politicians and political parties, they have effectively incorporated right-wing positions. We also see that support for right-wing political parties remains at similar levels as before; it is simply distributed across smaller parties. If aggregated, this support still amounts to roughly 17% to 20%. Moreover, there is currently a competition within Danish politics over who can adopt the toughest stance on these issues.
I believe it is a misconception in many European countries that this challenge has been resolved. I am not suggesting that the discussion itself is not legitimate—it certainly is. We must uphold our liberal values and firmly reject all forms of intolerance toward women, as well as attempts to promote Islamist and other extreme positions. Protecting liberal democracy remains essential. However, adopting the positions of the extreme right is not an effective strategy to counter it. In fact, the overall level of support for these views remains largely unchanged compared to 20 years ago.
Social Democracy at the Edge of Populist Politics
Relatedly, what does the Danish case tell us about the contemporary relationship between mainstream social democracy and populist political logics? Can restrictive migration politics coexist with a democratic center-left project without eroding the normative distinctions between social democracy and the populist radical right?
Professor Marlene Wind: That is a very political question. If you ask the Social Democrats, they would absolutely say yes. Even the Socialists on the left side of the Danish Social Democratic Party fully support this, so they would argue that it can coexist.This is a clear example of how such positions have become normalized. It is entirely legitimate to raise and debate the major questions and challenges associated with immigration, particularly when it comes to differing values. Where I see a problem, however, is when there is no judicial review of political decisions that sometimes approach the limits of what one would consider the rule of law, and where it becomes difficult to obtain a second opinion on the policies being implemented. That, in my view, is where the real issue lies—not in having an open discussion about challenges that certainly exist.So yes, any Social Democrat in Denmark would say that this is fully compatible, but it remains a highly political question.
Crisis Governance Expands Executive Power While Suspending Accountability
Professor Wind, do you think the incoming election demonstrates that external geopolitical crises can temporarily suspend domestic political accountability? In other words, can international confrontation—whether over Greenland, Ukraine, or transatlantic instability—re-legitimate incumbents whose domestic credibility had previously weakened?
Professor Marlene Wind: This is what happens every time there is a crisis. Political leaders go into crisis mode and argue that they need more power and greater competences to deal with the situation, and as a result, other issues are set aside. This is a very common phenomenon. You can see it in Hungary as well, where there has been a state of emergency since the COVID period. As far as I know, it is still in place. I am not entirely sure whether it has been lifted, but you can certainly observe similar crisis rhetoric in Denmark.
We have a Prime Minister who is highly effective in managing crises. However, the concern is always that more fundamental questions of accountability—democratic accountability in particular—as well as reasonable limits, may be overlooked in such situations. It is certainly open to debate whether we are currently in that kind of scenario.
At the same time, I do agree with the Prime Minister that we are, in a sense, in a state of war—and not only in relation to Ukraine. Europe is facing a very dangerous situation, being pressured from both the East and the West, while struggling to act collectively. This is deeply problematic, and it underscores the need for political leaders who are capable of addressing these challenges. So it is always a matter of balance, and something we must continuously reflect upon: has a given political leader gone too far in this regard? But at this moment, I believe that Europe needs strong and decisive leadership in order to endure as a continent.
The Fragile Foundations of Renewed Public Trust
Denmark’s Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen at a press conference during the COVID-19 crisis, Copenhagen, March 17, 2020. Photo: Francis Dean | Dreamstime.
Much of the current debate revolves around whether Frederiksen’s firmer line toward Washington has restored public trust. But from a democratic-theoretical perspective, how durable is trust that is rebuilt through crisis leadership rather than through institutional responsiveness, social compromise, or policy coherence?
Professor Marlene Wind: That is a big question, which I think can only be answered when we look back in a few years. As citizens and voters, we tend to appreciate when politicians stand up and demonstrate leadership. At the same time, many Europeans were deeply dissatisfied with the initial responses to Donald Trump, when we sought to please him, accommodate him, and turn the other cheek.
The so-called Greenland moment marked a turning point, when we finally rejected his demand to take part of another ally’s territory. This was an important development that fed into a broader European effort to assert itself and say no. We observed a similar dynamic in the Middle East, where European actors emphasized that it was not their war, that they had not been consulted about Iran, and that they could not simply accommodate—even under threats that Trump might withdraw from or dissolve NATO.
In many ways, that phase is over. Europe has, to some extent, been constrained by a sense of inferiority and dependence on the United States. The Greenland crisis made it abundantly clear to many European leaders, and certainly to the Danish Prime Minister, that this approach is no longer sustainable when dealing with an unpredictable partner. A firmer stance became necessary, and we have seen this reflected in the decision to place Greenland within a working group while avoiding further escalation.
It is also worth noting that Mark Carney, the Canadian Prime Minister, was among the first to adopt this approach and openly resist Trump. After being publicly humiliated—referred to as merely a governor, with suggestions that Canada should become the 51st state—and after firmly rejecting such rhetoric, Trump appeared to step back and has not revisited the issue since.
In this context, there is a growing sense that political leaders must be able to stand up to forms of coercion and authoritarian behavior. Such pressures do not emanate from a single source; while they are evident in Russia, similar dynamics can also be observed in the United States at present.
From Opt-Outs to Integration?
You have written extensively on Europe’s legal and political development. In light of recent events, do you think Denmark is now moving from its traditional status as a semi-detached, opt-out-oriented member state toward something closer to the European core? Or is this shift still contingent, fragile, and driven more by fear than by conviction?
Professor Marlene Wind: As I said in the introduction to this interview, where you asked something similar, that at least initially the turn to Europe has been very transactional and very pragmatic—simply a question of, alright, we lost our ally, now we need to find new friends, and therefore we turn to Europe. But I actually believe that this could develop into a closer attachment, in general, to the European project. In fact, that what we are seeing right now could be a more fundamental shift, where Danish politicians have started suggesting that we could move from unanimity to qualified majority voting in foreign policy, that we could build up a European army, that we could even federalize, take on debt in common, and give the EU a bigger budget to create better conditions for business, innovation, and tech companies in Europe.
All these kinds of measures—removing barriers in the internal market that have grown to a rather extreme level, as illustrated in the Draghi report and the Enrico Letta report as well—would require more Europe.
And the Danes, and Danish politicians in particular, are gradually realizing that if Europe is to survive in a new global context with adversaries all around us, and where we strategically have to avoid excessive dependence on any major power and instead “de-risk,” as von der Leyen has said several times, then Europe simply has to become stronger and more independent. It must also become a power that projects its influence outward—not only a union that defends itself and builds military capabilities, whether within NATO as a European pillar or within the European Union itself, but also one that can project power externally.
Danish top politicians are gradually moving in that direction. I could anticipate it, and I think we have seen some signs of it, but again, I would say that there has not really been much public debate about this during the current campaign. There is still a sense among many political leaders that it is somewhat risky to address these issues openly.
But we will see in the coming years whether we are moving closer to Europe and toward the core, possibly by removing our remaining opt-outs. Denmark still has opt-outs in Justice and Home Affairs and regarding the euro, as it is not part of the euro area, even though its currency is pegged to the euro. If the next step is to remove these opt-outs and fully join the European core and its power center, then that would signal a more definitive shift—should this trajectory materialize.
How Economic Interests Shape Transnational Populism
How do you assess the relationship between today’s European far right and Trumpism? Should we think of them as part of a coherent transnational ideological family, or are they better understood as overlapping but ultimately fragmented projects—united by anti-liberal impulses, yet divided by national interests, geopolitical alignments, and competing visions of sovereignty?
Professor Marlene Wind: My analysis is that something much bigger is at stake here. We are dealing with a rather strange combination of populist leaders who are kleptocrats and, as I said earlier, who are designing populism from above, creating tensions and antagonism among the people they lead. I think that is very dangerous. It represents a very different way of understanding populism than in the past.
What we have seen, particularly in the United States, and increasingly also in Europe, is that many figures from Silicon Valley—J.D. Vance, who was supported by Peter Thiel, Musk, Bezos, and other tech oligarchs—are playing a significant role. They are actors who, in different ways, seek to challenge Europe. We also saw in the American foreign and security policy strategy published before Christmas that there is a willingness to support regime change in Europe and to weaken the European Union.
At first glance, one might think this is simply about supporting Orbán and other right-wing groups, such as the AfD, which Musk has also openly supported. But if you look more closely, it is fundamentally about economic interests. It is about control by major tech companies that want access to a less regulated European market.
What is happening in Europe, and why parts of the American administration appear to support the extreme right, is closely tied to the interests of US-based tech giants that seek access to a wealthy European market while opposing EU regulatory frameworks. They resist European regulation of digital platforms and often frame such regulation as censorship. Yet, in reality, the United States has dropped to 57th place in the Press Freedom Index, suggesting that concerns about censorship are not limited to Europe.
This connects to a broader transformation of populism and autocratic leadership, which is increasingly engineered from above, with “tech elites” playing a central role. Their interest in weakening the European Union and empowering far-right actors lies in the expectation that such actors will renationalize power, undermine EU integration, and create fragmented markets that are easier to dominate.
In that sense, the dynamic is not only ideological but also economic and structural. It may sound conspiratorial, but there is a growing body of research pointing to these linkages. The more one examines the connections between far-right populism and segments of the US tech industry, the more concerning the picture becomes.
Unanimity or Fragmentation: The Existential Choice Facing the European Union
European Commission headquarters with waving EU flags in Brussels. Photo: Viorel Dudau.
Finally, Professor Wind, looking beyond the election itself, what do you see as the most important long-term question for Denmark and Europe: how to defend national sovereignty without collapsing into nationalism, how to deepen European cooperation without reproducing democratic alienation, or how to confront far-right normalization without simply borrowing its political vocabulary?
Professor Marlene Wind: How to strengthen the European Union in the current situation is very difficult because it was built as a market which, over time, developed to 27 or 28 members into a larger and larger union. We want more members; we want Ukraine in the Union. We face many institutional problems in terms of how to ramp up decision-making processes.
Some member states, because they have governments that are very concerned with their sovereignty, including Denmark, have also been very much against transferring further power to the European Union. And you have several countries with nationalist leaders—the Czech Republic, Slovakia, Hungary, and a president in Poland—so we have had, and continue to have, significant disagreement about how to strengthen the European Union. That is what makes me perhaps not so optimistic in the short run, because we currently have a system in the European Union where unanimity is required. When we want to integrate further, we need unanimity. When we want new members, we need unanimity, as you can see with the loan to Ukraine that Orbán is blocking because he is afraid of losing the election on the 12th of April.
So there are some inbuilt weaknesses that are very strong in the European project. We also have an upcoming election in France, where we may see yet another extreme right party enter the Élysée Palace. We are facing very significant institutional problems, and I am almost tempted to say that it can make or break: either we truly feel the pressure from the global stage—not just from the US and Russia, but also China—and get our act together, or we do not.
We need to move from unanimity to qualified majority voting quickly, or perhaps create a new club for those who are willing. I think we already see signs of that in relation to Ukraine. We have this “alliance of the willing,” and that could become an alternative within or alongside the European Union. We even talk about having Canada join, at some point, some of the structures in Europe.
So either we get our act together—the liberal democracies that are still left in the world—and ramp up our cooperation, or the whole thing risks collapsing. If current political leaders are not able to see the dangers of failing to preserve our way of life in Europe, also for our children and grandchildren—protecting democracy and free speech, and being able to defend ourselves and survive in a very competitive global market, perhaps through a more assertive industrial policy—then I am afraid that the entire European project could fall apart.
We know that there are actors, including in the United States, who would welcome such an outcome. Trump, for instance, prefers to deal with individual leaders rather than with the EU as a bloc. But we also have to remember that we are a very powerful bloc. We are almost 500 million Europeans. We are a wealthy continent. We have some of the highest life expectancies in the world. We have free education, welfare systems, and broad access to public goods.
So we have all the opportunities to become a strong, united power on the global stage. But we need political leaders right now who can see this, recognize its necessity, and act accordingly. That is why, despite all the criticism that can be directed at political leaders in times like these, when they do take leadership, I think that is exactly what we need—because the alternative is much worse.
