Dr. Jasmin Hasanović.

Dr. Hasanović: Ethnically Defined Power Sharing in Bosnia Is the Algorithm That Continually Reproduces the Crisis

In this ECPS interview, Dr. Jasmin Hasanović analyzes Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections through the lens of inter-, intra-, and cross-ethnic populism. He argues that the post-Dayton order continues to structure political competition around ethnically segmented constituencies, allowing parties to present themselves not merely as representatives but as protectors of threatened communities. This dynamic, he contends, helps explain why political change often fails to produce systemic transformation: institutional safeguards become “political currency,” while blockades and recurring crises reproduce the same underlying logic. As Dr. Hasanović puts it, “the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis” is ethnically defined power sharing. The interview also explores the limits of civic alternatives, the weakness of cross-ethnic mobilization, and the prospects for a credible democratic left.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections combined an important procedural innovation with striking political continuity. Biometric voter identification strengthened the integrity of the electoral process, yet turnout fell to around 42 percent, while the country’s major ethnonational parties remained dominant within their respective constituencies. SNSD consolidated its position in Republika Srpska, SDA retained substantial strength among Bosniak voters despite Bakir Izetbegović’s defeat in the presidency contest, and HDZ BiH secured the Croat seat in the state presidency. These outcomes provide the immediate backdrop to our conversation with Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, Assistant Professor of Political Science at the University of Sarajevo, about populism, ethnopolitics, democratic representation, and the structural legacies of the Dayton order. 

At the center of Dr. Hasanović’s analysis is the argument that Bosnia’s political crises cannot be understood simply as the product of particular leaders or parties. Rather, they are embedded in a system in which ethnicity has become “a central organizing principle, not only in politics, but also in public and social life.” Electoral competition, he argues, operates largely through ethnically segmented party systems, while the populist construction of “the people” takes place between, within, and across ethnic communities. The October 4 elections, in his view, therefore illustrate “a continued dominance of inter-ethnic politics,” even as significant intra-ethnic competition persists, and cross-ethnic alternatives remain comparatively weak. 

The interview’s central argument is captured most sharply in Dr. Hasanović’s assessment of the Dayton system itself. The power-sharing architecture, he argues, has tied access to power to ethnic representation in ways that make it politically rewarding for leaders to present themselves as “protectors, not only representatives, of their communities.” Institutional safeguards can consequently become “political currency,” while blockades and crises are repeatedly reproduced. As he puts it, replacing a governing party or overcoming a single institutional blockade does not alter “the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis.” That algorithm, he concludes, “is ethnically defined power sharing.” 

This structural perspective also helps explain why political change so often fails to become systemic change. In Republika Srpska, opposition to SNSD may challenge corruption or personalized rule without challenging the underlying ethnonational framework. Among Bosniaks, party pluralism can itself be portrayed as weakness when Serb and Croat political blocs appear more consolidated. And even when citizens share grievances over corruption, unemployment, inequality, public services, or institutional failure, Dr. Hasanović warns that “having the same problems does not produce a shared political identity.” 

The interview therefore moves beyond the question of who won or lost on October 4. It asks whether Bosnia can generate a political subjectivity capable of transcending ethnic exclusivity—and whether democratic, socioeconomic, and civic demands can eventually reshape a system whose institutional logic continues to reproduce the very divisions it was designed to manage.

Here is our interview with Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Inter-Ethnic Politics Still Dominates

Bosnia elections.
A voter casts a ballot against the backdrop of the flag of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Photo: Oleg Kachura / Dreamstime.

Professor Hasanović, welcome! Your recent article distinguishes between inter-ethnic, intra-ethnic, and cross-ethnic forms of populism. If we treat the October 4 elections as an empirical test of that framework, which of these dynamics appears to have been strengthened most clearly by the election results? Or does the election demonstrate that all three operate simultaneously, with different political consequences across Bosnia and Herzegovina?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: First of all, let me try to clarify what I understand by populism, because I think that would be the most important point at the beginning. I also want to distinguish populism from something that may appear as opposition politics within an ethnic community. That doesn’t have to be populist at all.

My understanding of populism, which is also described in the paper that you mentioned, is very much Laclauian. I see populism not as a kind of thin ideology or something like that, but as a political logic through which different unmet demands are brought together to construct a collective political subject, “the people.” And those demands establish a dividing line between “us” and “them.” So, the political identity of “us” is then constructed in relation to “them,” whether a ruling elite, another ethnic community and its political elites, or the institutional order itself.

Why I see this framework as important for understanding and explaining populism in Bosnia and Herzegovina is that, after the Dayton Peace Agreement was signed, Bosnia and Herzegovina has operated under a power-sharing system designed to ensure the political representation of the three dominant ethnic groups: the Bosniaks, the Croats, and the Serbs. They are defined as constituent peoples of the country. But the politicization of ethnicity very soon extended beyond the political aim of representation. It made ethnicity a central organizing principle, not only in politics, but also in public and social life.

This has two important consequences for Bosnia and Herzegovina. On the one side, we see that electoral competition takes place within ethnically segmented party subsystems, so voters are not formally required to vote along ethnic lines. However, the institutional arrangements, territorial divisions, and party mobilization, which we saw very clearly in those elections, strongly reinforce that pattern.

Secondly, given this ethnically structured political order, the populist construction of political subjectivity can take place in relation to ethnic communities. It cannot construct a political identity without referring to ethnic communities. So, depending on how it relates to ethnic communities, it can relate either between them, within them, or across them. That is why I made this distinction between inter-ethnic, intra-ethnic, and cross-ethnic populism, rather than relying on a simple, linear division between horizontal and vertical forms of populism.

Now, going back to your question and referring to the recent elections, I wouldn’t see the elections as an empirical test. Rather, I would see them as an illustration of how this framework works and interacts. What those elections demonstrated was, as you already mentioned, a continued dominance of inter-ethnic politics. So, the dominant parties remain the ethnonationalist parties, which mobilize around competing political claims and visions over the country. And every political party claims to represent and protect the demands of its respective community.

However, if we take a closer look, we will see that there is still significant competition, of course asymmetrical, within the ethnic groups and within the ethnic electoral arenas. For instance, we see the tension surrounding the dominant Bosniak political party, SDA, the Party of Democratic Action. As you mentioned, there is this tension between its relative electoral performance, which, of course, dominated in the elections within the areas of the country where Bosniaks are the dominant ethnic group, and, on the other side, the fact that its leader was defeated for the presidency.

What we also saw was the emergence of a stronger opposition within the Croat camp than there used to be before. What I want to say here is that ethnic homogenization was driven not only by opposition to other ethnic groups, but also by competition within them, as rival parties try to establish themselves as more credible defenders of the ethnic groups than the dominant ethnic political parties.

On the other side, cross-ethnic demands are still present, but they have not developed into a comparably strong electoral project, partially because electoral competition remains concentrated largely within monoethnic party subsystems, which makes it quite difficult for shared grievances to be connected across ethnic boundaries.

Dodik’s Influence Extends Beyond Office

Perhaps the most striking result came from Republika Srpska: Milorad Dodik was not himself on the ballot, yet SNSD retained its dominance, Željka Cvijanović won the Serb seat in the state presidency, and the party remained overwhelmingly powerful at entity level. Does this suggest that Dodik’s populism has become institutionalized beyond his personal leadership, or is this better understood through your category of inter-ethnic populism, in which voters are ultimately choosing their national “side” rather than an individual leader?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: It doesn’t mean that he was not an active part of the campaign. He remained the central political figure of SNSD during the campaign. He was present on billboards and at party rallies, so he was not missing from the public sphere. And not to forget that he also visited Moscow, where he met Vladimir Putin only days before the elections, together with the then Prime Minister of Republika Srpska, Savo Minić, who is now elected as the president of the entity. Vladimir Putin explicitly expressed support for the governing SNSD-led coalition.

When we see the results, it is obvious that Dodik’s political influence extends beyond holding an elected office. But what we also see is that SNSD probably could not reproduce the same dominance without him. He was not running, but he was still a dominant political figure. It is definitely the case that Dodik will remain and have influence behind the scenes in the political life of Bosnia and Herzegovina. His political party and all the ideology behind it, which he dominantly shapes, will remain central to government formation in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

This also shows the inefficiency of the Troika coalition in suspending Dodik and Dodik’s politics. I mean, he’s not running for office, but still, his presence is dominant, as we can see. Most Bosniak voters saw this as evidence that the Troika didn’t succeed in efficiently eliminating Dodik’s political rhetoric, which is threatening to the country. But also, Dodik’s victory was a slap in the face of the European Union and the internationals in this election.

Also, I don’t want to forget SNSD’s organization and patronage networks, because they allow Dodik’s leadership to operate through other candidates and through the established institutions of Republika Srpska. On the other side, his inter-ethnic populism reinforces that power by equating support for the party with support for Republika Srpska and the Serb people in the country.

Replacing Dodik Would Not Transform the Framework

Milorad Dodik.
Milorad Dodik greets supporters in Pale, Bosnia and Herzegovina, following a meeting and referendum on Republika Srpska’s National Day, September 25, 2016. Photo: Vladimir Stanisic / Dreamstime.

Your concept of intra-ethnic populism is especially useful because it distinguishes opposition to an entrenched ethnonational elite from opposition to ethnonationalism itself. In Republika Srpska, opposition actors may challenge SNSD over corruption, patronage, or personalized power while remaining committed to Serb autonomy and national interests. Does the October 4 result reinforce your argument that intra-ethnic competition can pluralize an ethnic political arena without necessarily weakening the underlying ethnonational conception of “the people”?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, here the distinction is between challenging the ruling elite of one ethnic community, on the one side, and challenging the ethnic principle of political representation, on the other. As we saw, and as you mentioned, opposition actors can mobilize around corruption, injustice, and personalized power, as was the case with Dodik’s opposition or the opposition to HDZ, although we also didn’t have Dragan Čović running for the presidency. But they do so without constructing, to go back to the case of Republika Srpska, a political people beyond Republika Srpska and Serb national interests.

That might open space for accountability, but it doesn’t produce different politics. The politics remains basically the same. This is most visible within the opposition in Republika Srpska. All the actors of the opposition in Republika Srpska share the same idea of what Republika Srpska is and should be. They share the same idea that Republika Srpska needs to remain a part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, even with stronger autonomy, and everything is understood as the main Serb national interest.

Every time Dodik defined Republika Srpska as being under threat, opposition parties aligned with Milorad Dodik. We saw that in practice. The recent reactions of prominent opposition leaders in Republika Srpska, mourning and paying tribute after the death of Ratko Mladić, who was a convicted war criminal and died while serving a life sentence, convicted of genocide and crimes against humanity, illustrate that ethnonationalist and revisionist positions remain, unfortunately, deeply embedded in Serb politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina. This extends beyond SNSD as a political party or Milorad Dodik as a leader.

So, replacing Dodik or SNSD at this point would not by itself transform the political framework within which both sides compete. The democratic potential of intra-ethnic competition depends on whether the demands for justice can become substantive commitments to creating a new political subjectivity, rather than simply claiming that another leadership will defend the same national project better than the previous one.

Because if you have a competition between the original and the fake copy, of course, you will always go for the original. So, I would explain that as one of the reasons why Milorad Dodik and SNSD still maintain a dominant position.

SDA Shapes Bosniak Political Identity

The Bosniak result presents an intriguing variation: SDA performed strongly at the party level, yet Bakir Izetbegović lost the presidency contest to Denis Bećirović. How would you interpret this apparent separation between party strength and leadership preference? Could it represent precisely the kind of intra-ethnic differentiation you describe—where voters challenge who legitimately represents the community without necessarily abandoning the ethnically structured political field itself?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, that’s something I already mentioned when I started answering your first question. What I would also like to point out here is that the relative success of SDA should be distinguished from an absolute expansion of its electorate. If we look at the preliminary results, we see that SDA mobilized and retained its voters more efficiently than its other competitors. Of course, we need to wait until all the results are finalized. But I see neither that SDA gained more votes nor that SDA lost some votes. I see that SDA is very stubborn in general and that it succeeded in mobilizing its strong voting base.

But I have to be very clear here regarding Izetbegović, because Izetbegović’s candidacy was a political risk for SDA from the very beginning. There were earlier signs of dissatisfaction with his leadership, so SDA was not really sure whether Izetbegović should be the candidate or not. There were also speculations about some other possible candidates before he was officially nominated to run for the presidency. It gave me the impression that SDA was not sure whether he was a good option or whether he would be a political risk for them, while, on the other side, also showing some inner weakness in lacking an adequate candidate to run for the presidency.

So, Izetbegović’s defeat, despite SDA’s strong performance, shows that support for the party goes beyond loyalty to its current leader. Where SDA gains its political power is rather symbolic. It comes from, of course, reliance on religion, the wartime legacy, and the symbolic authority of Bakir’s father, Alija Izetbegović, who was the founder of SDA and the first president of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

SDA has connected these sources of legitimacy with the claim that excluding SDA from power means excluding Bosniaks from political representation. This brings different demands together around the idea that SDA is not only the authentic political voice of Bosniaks, but also a defining force in shaping and safeguarding Bosniak national identity as a political nation.

Its ability to maintain a stable core of voters, despite a lot of splinter parties that have formed over the last 10 years, suggests that this identification that SDA is pushing forward remains very powerful in the relationship between SDA and the construction of Bosniaks as a political identity. What we also saw is that a lot of former leading figures who left SDA, after leaving SDA and trying other political organizations or forming their own political parties, failed to maintain comparable influence outside SDA.

Referring to Bećirović, unlike Izetbegović, who was the candidate of SDA in both election cycles, Bećirović was gaining broad coalition support in both cycles. Yet what we saw is that his lead over Izetbegović has now narrowed. He had more than 100,000 votes more than Izetbegović in 2022, and now the difference is only around 20,000 in the preliminary results of 2026. So, I believe that his earlier victory mobilized votes against Izetbegović rather than for himself.

This year, however, Semir Efendić, the president of the Party for Bosnia and Herzegovina, complicated this dilemma between Izetbegović and Bećirović and offered an alternative outside that binary.

So, the point is that voters may distinguish between the party and its leadership but still choose within an ethnically structured political field. Maybe that was not part of the question, but it’s also interesting that, although the presidency members are elected from one of the constituent peoples, they only have to present those constituent peoples in the presidency, not to represent them. However, their campaigns took place within a predominantly monoethnic political arena, so the candidates largely addressed only monoethnic electorates and the interests of the group they want to present and represent.

Collective Representation Is Not Automatically Populist

Among Croats, HDZ BiH again demonstrated its capacity to present itself as the principal guardian of collective representation, with Darijana Filipović winning the Croat presidency seat. How does the longstanding discourse of “legitimate representation” fit into your distinction between ethnonationalism and populism? At what point does a constitutional claim about group representation become a populist claim that one party uniquely embodies the authentic will of the Croat people?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: The demand for collective representation is not automatically populist. But it can become populist when the demand for legitimate representation connects different demands, from electoral reform to autonomy, under a common narrative of collective ethnic vulnerability. It can also become populist when it politically constructs the Croat people as a political subject whose rights and interests are under threat. This is the logic through which HDZ has largely shaped the discourse and agenda of Croat politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The dispute over representation, together with the asymmetrical federal system in Bosnia and Herzegovina, which generated unmet political demands among Croats, helped HDZ consolidate its dominance within the Croat political arena. We also had, during the last 10 years or even more, very weak parts of the Croat opposition to HDZ. But that opposition also adopted the same narrative, challenging HDZ’s leadership while still sharing the central demands from which HDZ gains political relevance.

The victory of Darijana Filipović now gave HDZ something that it was lacking after previous elections: representation inside the presidency. Her victory also institutionally aligned HDZ’s political influence in the country, giving power to HDZ across all levels of the political system.

What may arise as a question right now is whether HDZ’s presence in the presidency can make it harder to sustain the claim that Croats are being excluded by Bosniaks outvoting their candidates, potentially exposing how the representation issue has also served HDZ in consolidating the party’s power. Filipović announced during the election campaign a plan to open an office in Mostar, the office of the Croat member of the presidency in Mostar, something similar to what Milorad Dodik also did regarding the office of the Serb member of the presidency in Republika Srpska.

That can be read not only as something that reinforces the deeper ethnic segregation of the country and the territorial identification of a state-level position with a particular ethnic constituency, but also as an aim of HDZ to consolidate its power.

Also, regarding the opposition, it is interesting territorially that the opposition to HDZ comes from political organizations of Croats from the central part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, while HDZ has a strong political base in Herzegovina, in the south of the country.

The question is whether this consolidation of power that HDZ gained can now weaken the narrative that was connecting different grievances around the idea of legitimate representation. Can it now allow the opposition to mobilize around other demands? That opening is possible, but it will depend on whether the opposition can offer more than a competing claim to defend the same national interests of Croats. Of course, those national interests are being defined exclusively by HDZ.

The People Is Not a Fixed Category

Bosnia, funeral.
Muslims gather for a funeral in Maglaj, Bosnia and Herzegovina, in 2016, with an effendi wearing a turban visible among the crowd. Photo: Damir Đuhera / Dreamstime.

Your article argues that Bosnia is distinctive because political actors compete not only over who represents “the people,” but over which people constitutes the legitimate political community in the first place. After this election, we again have powerful Serb, Bosniak, Croat, and civic conceptions of political belonging operating simultaneously. Does this make Bosnia a particularly revealing case for populism theory precisely because the demos itself remain fundamentally contested?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, because Bosnia makes visible something that the dominant theories of populism take for granted: that the people is politically constructed rather than simply being a fixed category waiting to be represented. In terms of Bosnia and Herzegovina, we do not talk about Serbs, Croats, and Bosniaks as fixed and essential ethnic groups, but rather as political identities that are defined and constructed through their political demands, which interact with institutions, territorial divisions, and struggles over the state itself. This is because all three dominant ethnic political parties do not share the same perception of how Bosnia and Herzegovina should be, how it should be defined, or what the future of the country should be. Of course, their political identities are also defined in relation to the boundaries of what and who can represent them, not only among themselves, but also within the same ethnic group and ethnic community.

Without Alternatives, Abstention Becomes Rational

The election introduced biometric identification and significantly reduced opportunities for manipulation, yet turnout fell to roughly 42 percent and established ethnonational patterns remained remarkably resilient. How should we interpret this combination of cleaner electoral procedures and deep political disengagement? Does it suggest that improving electoral integrity is insufficient when citizens perceive the underlying structure of political choice as closed, repetitive, or ethnically predetermined?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: It was very important to secure those new voting technologies. It was interesting to see that, before introducing the new technologies, you always had complaints from political parties that didn’t gain enough votes, claiming that they had been defrauded or whatever. Now, only one political actor claims that somebody stole his votes or whatever. It gave a bit of legitimacy to the process, and securing electoral procedures is very important.

But I wouldn’t say that electoral integrity and democratic engagement are separate questions, because biometric identification can reduce fraud and make the election procedure more transparent, so that you know that nobody voted who was not supposed to vote, or voted twice, or so on. But it doesn’t do anything if citizens do not see a meaningful political alternative. So, you can have a very transparent and good electoral procedure, but the question is what is offered in the elections.

One of my concerns is that Bosnia and Herzegovina, in recent years, has very often offered changes in governing personnel, but it leaves the main structures of political choice and power largely intact. Even if we have new political actors, those are, in many ways, splinter parties from previously dominant political parties. So, you don’t have new leaders; you just have unsatisfied politicians who could not agree with leaders from their previous political parties, so they decided to form a new political party.

If people do not see alternatives, if they are not satisfied with the previous government but also don’t want to choose the previous actors again, or they simply feel that no party represents their demands strongly, then, in those circumstances, abstention from elections seems to be rational. It can reflect either frustration, a lack of choice, or just the weak mobilization potential of some of the political parties.

However, what I would like to point out here about the turnout, which is around 42%, is that we need to consider that percentage more carefully, because it is based on the official electoral register, which is not the same as the resident population. Citizens who have moved away may remain officially registered, even if they are not participating in the elections. So, we cannot simply conclude that 42% of adults actually living in Bosnia and Herzegovina really voted. What I want to say is that a turnout of 42% of registered voters does not mean that 42% of adults actively living in Bosnia and Herzegovina and registered really voted. They are still on the electoral register, but they are not in the country anymore.

Civic Alternatives Are Needed Across All Constituencies

Your work has repeatedly examined the difficulty of constructing political alternatives to Bosnia’s ethno-determined order. The multi-ethnic Troika suffered an electoral setback while established ethnonational parties remained resilient. Does this result expose a structural weakness of civic politics in Bosnia—namely, that civic actors must compete within institutions that already define political representation through constituent peoples?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: The preliminary results really show an electoral setback for Troika, but I would say it is an uneven setback within Troika. Individual parties of Troika received fewer votes, which is true. But the overall vote share of Troika remained roughly stable—not as influential as before, but roughly stable. Again, I’m saying this based on preliminary results, and it may change in the meantime.

Most of the losses within Troika were concentrated in the People and Justice Party and Naša Stranka (Our Party), while SDP experienced only a smaller decline. This increased SDP’s power within Troika and made Troika, if the coalition lasts—which I’m a bit skeptical about—more dependent on SDP’s electoral strength.

The previous mandate, as I also mentioned in the beginning, shows that replacing one party with another party or coalition does not automatically change the system or the political practices that are being institutionalized. Taking this experience of Troika, Troika is a very unusual ideological and political project. Troika replaced SDA as the predominant Bosniak component of the power-sharing government. But Troika’s alternative to nationalism remained concentrated only within the Bosniak electoral space, without comparable support among the Croat and Serb electorates.

This is the reason why parts of the public interpreted Troika’s compromises with nationalist coalition partners from the Serb and Croat political camps, with whom they shared power, as concessions at the expense of Bosnian political interests. This strengthened the narrative in which pluralism among Bosniak parties appears as fragmentation and weakness against two other more consolidated ethnopolitical blocs.

Overcoming that asymmetry would require credible civic alternatives within all three electoral constituencies, capable of constructing the people around shared democratic and socioeconomic demands beyond ethnic belonging. If such alternatives develop sufficient support and cooperation, they could make coalitions with nationalist parties less politically unavoidable. Otherwise, actors presenting themselves as alternatives to nationalism remain dependent on agreements with those parties.

Shared Problems Do Not Produce Shared Identity

Bosniak people.
Men play on a giant chessboard in a park in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Photo: Henrique Weiss / Dreamstime.

Your concept of cross-ethnic populism suggests that common grievances—corruption, unemployment, inequality, institutional failure, lack of accountability—can potentially construct a political “people” across ethnic boundaries. Yet such mobilizations have repeatedly struggled to become durable electoral projects. Why are socioeconomic grievances so easily re-ethnicized in Bosnia, and what does the October 4 result tell us about the ability of ethnonational elites to convert class, governance, or anti-corruption conflicts back into questions of collective ethnic survival?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: What we saw is that having the same problems does not produce a shared political identity. We also see that, on the other side, ethnonationalist parties can use and reinterpret demands about jobs, corruption, or public services as questions of ethnic politics: who controls resources and whether our community is being disadvantaged in relation to other communities.

We could hear this narrative very clearly at the SDA’s final central rally in Sarajevo, where restoring positions to Bosniaks was linked to returning SDA members to those positions. Its control over employment and institutions is seen as a way of restoring Bosniak political strength. We see the same pattern in SNSD, Dodik’s party, in HDZ, and in other political parties.

Meanwhile, as you mentioned, why can’t these mobilizations construct the people across ethnic boundaries? The other problem is that we have a very fragmented media and public sphere in the country, and because of that, it is difficult for citizens to recognize similar problems and similar conflicts that are more essential and existential elsewhere in the country.

Overcoming this would require organizations that can collect everyday grievances into an equivalential chain of demands that can be sustained beyond a single protest or election, which is not happening. This may be a very unpopular option, but those organizations must first build credible support within the ethnic groups, within their own ethnic electoral arenas, and then connect those struggles across ethnic boundaries.

Because there is a significant ideological gap within monoethnic electoral arenas, where opposition to national elites does not develop around redistribution or public services, but around ethnic representation. Of course, only within the Bosniak electoral subsystem do we also see some kind of ideological opposition, but not within the Serb or Croat constituencies.

That is where I see an opening for—and this also may be very unpopular—a populist left within the ethnic groups to bring those demands together and construct the people around shared experiences of inequality and exclusion, rather than their ethnic belonging or party loyalty.

Dayton Rewards Leaders Who Act as Protectors

One of the most important implications of your recent article is that Dayton does not merely constrain populism; its power-sharing architecture may actually structure and reproduce populist possibilities. Thirty years after Dayton, do these election results strengthen the argument that institutional incentives themselves continuously reproduce the political need for Serb, Croat, and Bosniak leaders to demonstrate that their communities are threatened and therefore require exclusive political protection?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, it is a paradox, and it is interesting that the power-sharing principle in Dayton tied access to power to ethnic representation, which made it politically rewarding for leaders to present themselves as protectors, not only representatives, of their communities.

All three ethnic groups have different views of the country and, based on those views, different views of Dayton and the peace that was established. But the common ground among all three ethnic groups is that the Dayton framework is not satisfying for the group.

That’s the reason why the same actors can control institutions, on the one side, while, on the other side, portraying the constitutional order as a threat to their people and claiming that if we, as the legitimate representatives of our people, are not present in the institutions, then the other two groups are present, so we are threatened again.

So, refusing to cooperate with other ethnic representatives can also increase their power, while the institutional safeguards can very easily become political currency rather than simply a tool of protection against domination. Then you have different ways of blocking institutional procedures, meaning blocking the country from fulfilling its basic duties.

This is also why replacing a governing party or overcoming one institutional blockade doesn’t change the consequences—the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis. The algorithm, of course, is ethnically defined power sharing.

Bosnia Needs a New Political Subjectivity

Photo: Dreamstime.

You make the provocative argument that intra-ethnic populism can, under some conditions, have a democratizing effect by breaking monopolies of representation within monoethnic political subsystems. Looking at the October 4 results, do you see evidence of such productive pluralization anywhere in Bosnia? Or has intra-ethnic competition largely remained competition over who can more credibly represent the same ethnonational project?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, much of that competition still concerns who can defend the same national interests more credibly. So, its potential democratizing effects still remain limited. There is also this dangerous asymmetry, where we can see this pluralism best among predominantly Bosniak parties. But this pluralism can be framed as weakness when the other two ethnic blocs appear more consolidated, which strengthens the ethnonational political party among Bosniaks by claiming that Troika is not sufficient to represent Bosniaks because it is more liberal or whatever and is making concessions to the other two very consolidated ethno-political projects. So, Bosniaks also need a very strong ethno-political project to represent Bosniaks.

The problem is that positioning themselves as intra-ethnic successors to the dominant ethnonationalists means, now in a theoretical way, that you are sharing the same inter-ethnic signifier, which risks becoming a floating signifier whose meaning is suspended or contested between two alternative equivalent frontiers. What you need is another political subjectivity, because sharing the same inter-ethnic signifier complicates the construction of a populist subjectivity that would reconfigure already existing demands and incorporate new demands needed for creating a new political subjectivity beyond the ethnic subjectivity.

Bosnian Populism Is Both Horizontal and Vertical

Bosnia’s populist politics also involves an unusual vertical dimension because “the elite” can mean not only domestic political establishments but also the Office of the High Representative, EU institutions, foreign embassies, and other international actors. How does this external layer alter the classic populist opposition between “the people” and “the elite”? Can international supervision itself become a resource through which domestic actors construct popular sovereignty against an allegedly external governing establishment?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, international involvement, which is described and defined within the Dayton Peace Agreement, complicates the distinction because domestic leaders can be part of the governing establishment while presenting themselves as opponents of an external elite. It also provides a way to redirect responsibility for their own failures, not only horizontally towards other ethnic groups, but also vertically towards decisions presented as externally imposed.

One example I mentioned in the paper is Milorad Dodik’s description of opposition leaders as “Schmidt Serbs,” associating them with the High Representative, Christian Schmidt, and portraying them as political groups representing the interests of foreigners rather than those of genuine Serb people. SDA also repeatedly portrayed Troika as imposed by international actors against the will of the Bosniak people. This brings an external enemy into an internal political struggle. That’s what I meant by saying that it complicates this distinction, because opponents are framed as serving foreign authority against their own people.

That’s also the reason why we cannot easily place populism in Bosnia and Herzegovina only on a horizontal or vertical line, because it has these overlapping moments and dynamics in relation to ethnic groups, as well as to the political framework and institutions within which the groups are functioning and operating.

The ‘Original Dayton’ Claim Is Paradoxical

Dodik responded to SNSD’s victory by reviving the language of returning to the “original Dayton,” including demands to restore competencies to Republika Srpska. How should we understand such claims within your framework? Is this primarily inter-ethnic populism, a sovereignty discourse, or a particularly Bosnian form of populism in which the constitutional order is simultaneously invoked as legitimate and attacked as having been corrupted by hostile elites?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: That’s an interesting claim. Dodik’s appeal to the original Dayton combines inter-ethnic populism with a claim to sovereignty, but it also involves SNSD presenting itself as giving the genuine interpretation of Serbian interests intra-ethnically. What this means in practice is that it presents Republika Srpska and the Serb people as victims of a political order that is not in their political interests. Their political interest in the 1990s was either autonomy or the idea of remaining in a Serb-dominated Yugoslavia, or something like that. Bosnia and Herzegovina is seen as a political project that was, and is, made up by international actors.

Politically, what I see as important is the question of what this language authorizes in practice. Is it further obstruction of the country and its institutions? Is it building parallel institutions? Or is it a general attempt to weaken the state, rather than simply a dispute about the constitutional history of the country?

It is also interesting why the original Dayton is important for Dodik and his populist claims: in the first version of the Constitution, the authority of state institutions used to be very weak. Referring to the original institutions also means that there is a stronger reliance on international actors. He claims to want to avoid the interference of international actors, which again is a paradox.

Justice Became Trans-Ethnic, but Not Political

Bosnian civil war.
Bosnian civil war. Naim Pasić mourns the loss of his wife and daughter at Lion Cemetery in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, on June 2, 1993. Pasić, 58, had left home to gather food for his family and returned to find his house destroyed and his wife and daughter dead. Tens of thousands of Bosnian civilians had been killed during the first year of the war. Photo: Mark Milstein / Northfoto / Dreamstime.

Your wider research on social movements and civic participation asks whether citizens can construct political subjectivities outside established ethnopolitical structures. From the 2014 plenums to accountability movements and other forms of civic mobilization, Bosnia has periodically produced moments in which ordinary citizens articulate an “us” against unresponsive institutions. Why have these moments proved so difficult to translate into sustained cross-ethnic electoral organization? Is the problem organizational weakness, institutional design, depoliticization, elite co-optation—or the absence of a sufficiently powerful alternative conception of “the people”?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: I will start with the last one: a sufficiently powerful alternative conception of the people has not been able to be politically constructed because of a combination of organizational weaknesses, institutional obstacles, very strong ethnonationalist backlash and countermobilization, and the difficulty of sustaining a common political identification that crosses ethnic borders.

The movements around Dženan Memić in Sarajevo and David Dragičević in Banja Luka are an important example because that was the first time there was one political idea—the idea of justice—that became trans-ethnic, that both ethnic groups could rely on and see as a strong political demand. However, that demand could not create a stable chain of equivalence that would provide a joint, common construction of the people capable of crossing ethnic identification.

As my research shows, that common demand for justice also carried different objectives. It was not sufficiently an empty signifier in that manner because, in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, in Sarajevo, it required stronger institutional accountability, while in Republika Srpska, it was a more direct challenge to the ruling regime.

But both actors in the protests never challenged the political system or the political constitution and never had any other goal beyond fighting for their own problem, for their own aim, which was very personal and very tragic because of the personal experience they faced. There was also no political actor that could transfer those demands into one wider political project.

So, solidarity crossed entity and ethnic borders, but it did not engage all constituencies equally. For instance, it was a matter between Bosniaks and Serbs, but it was not something that affected Croats in any way. It also did not consolidate into a shared political project capable of constructing a political identity in the first place.

A Credible Left Is Needed Across All Communities

And finally, Professor Hasanović, your work on the post-Dayton possibilities for the Left asks whether an alternative to ethno-determined politics can emerge from within the very system that entrenches it. After October 4, what pathway appears more plausible: attempting to construct an immediately cross-ethnic civic demos, or first pluralizing political competition within Serb, Bosniak, and Croat constituencies so that ideological, socioeconomic, and democratic cleavages gradually become more important than ethnic ones? Could such intra-ethnic pluralization eventually provide the bridge toward genuinely cross-ethnic politics?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: I believe that you referred to my work on the paper about the Left after Dayton—the earlier attempts to build a multi-ethnic left failed to gain support across electoral arenas. SDP is the best example of that because SDP presents itself as multi-ethnic, which is true, but its electoral support remains concentrated in predominantly Bosniak arenas.

Also, SDP’s prominent figures, like Denis Bećirović, who has now again been re-elected to the presidency from SDP, often speak in terms of exclusively Bosniak concerns. It is understandable that parties adapt their language to the voters who elect them. But, in that way, a multi-ethnic identity would require more than a declaration. It would require building support and trust across communities, which is very hard.

SDP has often been criticized for becoming a Bosniak left. My criticism is different. My criticism is not that SDP is becoming a Bosniak left, but that SDP is not a Bosniak left. It has neither articulated what a left would stand for—and, in practice, it shows very un-left politics—nor managed to build a convincing political left project among Bosniaks.

The problem is less where its voters come from than which demands mobilize them and whether those demands can be connected with similar struggles among Serbs and Croats. If you are democratizing and pluralizing within Serb, Bosniak, and Croat constituencies, but that pluralization is only for the continuation of ethnic representation, that is not the point.

What I see as a way of building the left is to work within the ethnic constituencies while deliberately building connections across them. So, a credible left is needed among Serbs and Croats as much as among Bosniaks. A credible left, even if that can be unpopular, can populistically create a political subjectivity demanding secure jobs, decent wages, and affordable housing. For instance, housing is a very common problem, not only in the world, but also in Bosnia. Universal healthcare, education, the problem of depopulation—a lot of people from Bosnia, from all three ethnic groups, are leaving the country.

Also, the credible left should talk about freedom from dependence on party connections but also oppose historical revisionism and the glorification of war criminals in all of its forms and be built on anti-fascist ideas. Such a politics must challenge elites within each community first, while refusing to make ethnic exclusivity the basis of its own program. But this development might be uneven between different ethnic groups. This is something that is still a challenge to be built, and those oppositions that I mentioned earlier are opening the space, but the dynamics that will shape those possibilities remain to emerge.

 

University teachers, researchers, and students demonstrate in Paris, France, on April 2, 2009.

Material and Cultural Convergence in French Youth Protest

In this commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias examines how material grievances in France’s 2026 youth protests become intertwined with broader cultural, moral, and political claims. Rather than interpreting this simply as identity replacing class, Dr. Dias argues that concerns over education, housing, and employment are increasingly articulated alongside struggles over recognition, gender, racialization, colonial memory, and Palestine. He introduces the notion of a “hyper cause” to describe how certain issues can condense multiple struggles into a shared moral framework. The article also explores the risks of moral polarization, generational inequality, distrust in political institutions, and competing populist narratives, ultimately asking how liberal democracy can respond to legitimate grievances without allowing encompassing causes to erode pluralism and political restraint.

By João Ferreira Dias

How does a protest about classrooms become a statement about the moral order of society? A photograph from Nantes, circulated by Expresso during France’s autumn 2026 mobilizations, brings the question into focus. Demands for education funding stand beside denunciations of the police, sexual violence, hostility towards Muslims and the Rassemblement National (RN). One placard announces disagreement with the others. The scene suggests convergence without unanimity: a material grievance provides a meeting place for a broader cultural left.

From Material Grievances to a Broader Moral Grammar

The grievances are real. Teacher shortages, overcrowded classes, deteriorating buildings and anxiety surrounding Parcoursup, the university admissions platform, feature prominently in reporting (Lecherbonnier & Pommiers, 2026). Their legitimacy does not, however, explain the entire political meaning of the mobilization. The analytical question concerns how concrete failures become connected to a more encompassing account of domination.

It would be misleading to describe this simply as identity replacing class. Housing, education and employment remain material concerns; they become articulated with struggles over recognition, gender, racialization and colonial memory. Fraser’s (1995) distinction between redistribution and recognition helps identify these dimensions without treating them as separate worlds. My argument is that sections of the contemporary left increasingly interpret both through a common moral grammar. A school without teachers and an institution accused of racism can become evidence of the same system abandoning, excluding or subordinating particular populations.

Several intellectual traditions enter this interpretation. Postmodern suspicion towards legitimating grand narratives, associated with Lyotard (1979; 1984), differs from decolonial accounts of enduring colonial hierarchies and intersectional analyses of connected inequalities. They should not be collapsed into one doctrine or attributed to every protester. Yet their convergence in activist discourse invites an irony: criticism of universal narratives can coexist with an increasingly comprehensive narrative of oppression. Frame alignment helps explain how distinct struggles become mutually intelligible (Benford & Snow, 2000); whether they share the same causes remains an empirical question.

Palestine as a “Hyper Cause” and the Convergence of Struggles

Palestine makes this operation particularly visible in the wider activist field, beyond what can be established from the Nantes photograph. Salih et al. (2021) document connections between Palestinian activism and Black and Indigenous struggles, including Ferguson and Standing Rock. More recently, Mendoza Sandoval and Portos (2026), studying Spain, show how an anticolonial framing makes Palestine a prism for interpreting injustice within activists’ own societies. These studies identify mechanisms relevant to the French case, rather than proving their prevalence among its school protesters.

I would describe Palestine’s role in some of these networks as a “hyper cause”: a cause that condenses other struggles and helps organize their moral meaning. This is an analytical proposal, not an established category. Gaza then signifies both a concrete humanitarian catastrophe and a wider account of colonial violence, racial hierarchy and Western power. Solidarity becomes a way of locating oneself within that account. The danger appears when commitment to one cause becomes a test of legitimacy across unrelated questions, or when identifying a common adversary takes precedence over examining different institutions and responsibilities.

This convergence can generate effective coalitions. It can also encourage moral polarization. Research connects moralizedattitudes to resistance to political compromise (Ryan, 2017). The progressive Brazilian Instagram accounts that read French protests immediately as resistance to welfare dismantling suggest a related mechanism of transnational recognition. Their reception needs systematic study, but the hypothesis is clear: a foreign event can confirm an existing political identity before its national circumstances are examined.

Generational Insecurity and the Erosion of Democratic Confidence

Those circumstances complicate the interpretation. The OECD’s latest compilation places French public pension expenditure at roughly 13–14% of GDP (OECD, 2025). Meanwhile, households whose reference person was under 30 devoted 25.7% of income to housing after allowances in 2024, against less than 13% for those with a reference person aged 65 or older; student-reference households are excluded (Dufour et al., 2026). Substantial aggregate protection can coexist with unequal access to security. Lynch (2006) explains how institutions entrench the age distribution of welfare. Treating retirement entitlements as untouchable while younger generations’ prospects remain negotiable raises a distributive problem, without demonstrating that pensioners have captured the state or directly caused school shortages.

The democratic promise becomes vulnerable here. Education and work were expected to make independence attainable. When they cease to offer a credible route to it, ideological narratives supply explanations of betrayal and identify those responsible. The 2026 CEVIPOF survey records 82% attachment to democracy alongside just 22% trust in politics and 15% in parties (CEVIPOF, 2026). These population-wide figures reveal a tension, not the attitudes of the protesters themselves.

Attachment to which democracy? Zakaria (1997) distinguishes electoral government from constitutional liberalism. Endorsing popular sovereignty does not establish commitment to judicial independence, minority rights or legitimate opposition. Wuttke et al. (2022) challenge a uniform account of democratic decline while identifying, in some countries, citizens whose democratic self-description coexists with less democratic attitudes. Demands for democracy can therefore contain illiberal possibilities when the authority of a morally defined people is placed above constraints on its power.

Competing Narratives of “the People” and the Limits of Liberal Democracy

The political translation is contested. Muxel (2025) identifies divisions within French youth, including radical-left mobilization and growing attraction to the radical right. Mélenchon’s La France insoumise explicitly supported the October mobilization (La France insoumise, 2026). Le Pen’s camp offers a competing narrative of national decline and restored authority. These projects differ substantially, but neither the invocation of “the people” nor mobilization itself settles the question of liberal commitment.

The central problem is thus how material insecurity becomes organized into moral camps. The cultural left can connect social provision to recognition and decolonial solidarity; the radical right offers different accounts of dispossession and belonging. Both must be assessed through their acceptance of pluralism and limits on power. Liberal democracy needs to recover the credibility of an attainable future while ensuring that neither a just grievance nor an encompassing cause becomes a license to deny opponents their rights.


 

References

Benford, R. D. & Snow, D. A. (2000). “Framing processes and social movements: An overview and assessment.” Annual Review of Sociology, 26, 611–639. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1146/​annurev.soc.26.1.611

CEVIPOF. (2026, February 9). Baromètre de la confiance politique CEVIPOF 2026 : La confiance s’effondre en politique, la proximité fait figure de refuge. Sciences Po. https:/​/​www.sciencespo.fr/​cevipof/​fr/​actualites/​barometre-​de-​la-​confiance-​politique-​cevipof-​2026-​la-​confiance-​s-​effondre-​en-​politique-​la-​proximite-​fait-​figure-​de-​refuge/​

Dufour, C.; Lartigau, T.; Parizeau, E. & Zedam, P. (2026, September 23). Le logement pèse moins sur le budget des ménages en 2024 qu’il y a dix ans, sauf pour les plus modestes (Insee Première No. 2128). INSEE. https:/​/​www.insee.fr/​fr/​statistiques/​9053584

Fraser, N. (1995). “From redistribution to recognition? Dilemmas of justice in a ‘post-socialist’ age.” New Left Review, I(212), 68–93. https:/​/​newleftreview.org/​issues/​i212/​articles/​nancy-​fraser-​from-​redistribution-​to-​recognition-​dilemmas-​of-​justice-​in-​a-​post-​socialist-​age

La France insoumise. (2026, October 4). Grande mobilisation étudiante et lycéenne mardi 6 octobre : Où manifester en France ? https:/​/​lafranceinsoumise.fr/​2026/​10/​04/​mobilisation-​6-​octobre-​lycee-​etu/​

Lecherbonnier, S. & Pommiers, E. (2026, October 5). “Why French high schoolers are protesting, and why their movement is already historic.” Le Monde. https:/​/​www.lemonde.fr/​en/​france/​article/​2026/​10/​05/​why-​french-​high-​schoolers-​are-​protesting-​and-​why-​their-​movement-​is-​already-​historic_6758257_7.html

Lynch, J. (2006). Age in the welfare state: The origins of social spending on pensioners, workers, and children. Cambridge University Press. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1017/​CBO9780511606922

Lyotard, J.-F. (1984). The postmodern condition: A report on knowledge (G. Bennington & B. Massumi, Trans.). University of Minnesota Press. (Original work published 1979). https:/​/​www.upress.umn.edu/​9780816611737/​the-​postmodern-​condition/​

Mendoza Sandoval, L. & Portos, M. (2026). “‘We are not freeing Palestine, Palestine is freeing us’: Intellectuals and the anti-colonial framing of the Palestinian solidarity movement.” American Behavioral Scientist. Advance online publication. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1177/​00027642261472333

Muxel, A. (2025, December 11). Les jeunes veulent-ils encore la démocratie ? Sciences Po CEVIPOF. https:/​/​www.sciencespo.fr/​cevipof/​fr/​actualites/​les-​jeunes-​veulent-​ils-​encore-​la-​democratie/​

OECD. (2025). Pensions at a glance 2025: OECD and G20 indicators. OECD Publishing. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1787/​e40274c1-​en

Ryan, T. J. (2017). “No compromise: Political consequences of moralized attitudes.” American Journal of Political Science, 61(2), 409–423. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1111/​ajps.12248

Salih, R., Zambelli, E., & Welchman, L. (2021). “‘From Standing Rock to Palestine, we are united’: Diaspora politics, decolonization and the intersectionality of struggles.” Ethnic and Racial Studies, 44(7), 1135–1153. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1080/​01419870.2020.1779948

Wuttke, A.; Gavras, K. & Schoen, H. (2022). “Have Europeans grown tired of democracy? New evidence from eighteen consolidated democracies, 1981–2018.” British Journal of Political Science, 52(1), 416–428. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.1017/​S0007123420000149

Zakaria, F. (1997). “The rise of illiberal democracy.” Foreign Affairs, 76(6), 22–43. https:/​/​doi.org/​10.2307/​20048274

Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões.

Assoc. Prof. Casarões: What Really Died on October 4 Was Brazil’s Democratic Pact Itself

Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões argues Brazil’s October 4 election marks more than a contest between Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro: it signals a deeper transformation of the country’s democratic order. Assoc. Prof. Casarões contends that “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself,” while stressing that this does not mean democracy has ended. He sees Bolsonarism as still fundamentally personalistic, continuing to revolve around Jair Bolsonaro even as Flávio emerges as its electoral standard-bearer. The interview explores identity polarization, Christian nationalism, punitive security politics, Trumpism, and the transnational far right, while also examining Lulism’s growing association with the establishment. Together, these dynamics place Brazil at what Assoc. Prof. Casarões describes as a consequential political “crossroads.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Brazil’s October 4, 2026 presidential election produced a first-round result that significantly altered the political landscape ahead of the October 25 runoff. Flávio Bolsonaro finished first with about 47% of the vote, ahead of incumbent President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on 45.1%, while right- and far-right forces also performed strongly in congressional and gubernatorial contests. The outcome sharpened the confrontation between Lulism and a post-Jair form of Bolsonarism, while also raising broader questions about the resilience of Brazil’s post-authoritarian democratic settlement, the institutionalization of the radical right, and the future of political representation in the country. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Guilherme Casarões, Associate Professor of Brazilian Studies at Florida International University, argues that the significance of October 4 extends well beyond the immediate electoral competition between Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro. For Assoc. Prof. Casarões, the most consequential development is not simply the continued strength of Bolsonarism without Jair Bolsonaro on the ballot, but what the election reveals about the transformation of Brazil’s democratic order. As he puts it, “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself.”

Assoc. Prof. Casarões is careful to stress that this does not mean Brazilian democracy has ended. Rather, he argues that the political pact sustaining democracy since the transition from military rule in the mid-1980s and its constitutional consolidation in 1988 “is now gone, or at least seems to be over for now.” In his view, this makes the 2026 election even more consequential than the watershed contests of 2018 and 2022. Brazil, he argues, has reached “a crossroads,” with the future character of its democratic system increasingly uncertain. 

At the same time, Assoc. Prof. Casarões resists interpreting Flávio Bolsonaro’s success as evidence that Bolsonarism has already become fully institutionalized. Despite the son’s electoral rise and the growing importance of the Liberal Party, he maintains that the movement “still gravitates around the image of Bolsonaro the father” and remains “a very personalistic movement.” Ultimately, he suggests, Bolsonarism still resembles “a cult of a person,” and “this person is Jair Bolsonaro himself.”

The interview develops this diagnosis across a wider set of themes: the decline of policy-based competition and the rise of identity polarization; Christian nationalism and the religious-populist radical right; punitive approaches to crime; the transnational circulation of far-right ideas; and the interaction between Trumpism and Bolsonarism. Assoc. Prof. Casarões also examines the contrasting trajectory of Lulism, arguing that Lula has increasingly come to symbolize the establishment itself. Taken together, his analysis presents October 4 not merely as an electoral upset, but as a possible marker of a deeper reconfiguration of Brazil’s democratic and populist politics. 

Here is our interview with Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Zohran Mamdani.

The Popular, the Populist, and the Plebeian: Mamdani as a Problem for Populism Studies

Please cite as:
Sofos, Spyros A. (2026). “The Popular, the Populist, and the Plebeian: Mamdani as a Problem for Populism Studies.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). October 6, 2026. https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000132        

 

Abstract

This article develops a framework distinguishing plebeian rupture, populist closure, and plebeian-institutional articulation. It asks how popular agency can endure through institutions while those advancing demands retain the capacity to shape decisions and challenge their representatives. The analysis examines Zohran Mamdani’s New York mayoral campaign from October 2024 to November 2025 through campaign statements, speeches, endorsement records, and organizational materials. Independent demands, endorsement rules, and public disagreement show organized constituencies seeking a continuing role in the project. Their influence over contested priorities and effective constraints on leadership are less clearly documented. The findings support understanding the campaign’s organizational project as plebeian-institutional articulation, alongside a left-populist reading of its construction of a common identity. The framework shifts attention from the presence of organizations to the authority constituent actors retain as popular projects enter institutions.

Keywords: populism; plebeian politics; plebeian-institutional articulation; political mediation; social movements; Zohran Mamdani.

By Spyros A. Sofos

Introduction

On 4 November 2025, New Yorkers elected Zohran Mamdani mayor of New York City with just over 50.2 percent of the vote (New York City Board of Elections, 2025). By election day, the outcome was no longer wholly unexpected: a poll in September had already shown him with a commanding lead, and Bloomberg described him as the clear frontrunner heading into the vote (Quinnipiac University Poll, 2025; Bloomberg, 2025). Yet the victory still defied a coordinated effort to stop him. Anti-Mamdani political action committees enjoyed a substantial financial advantage, while more than twenty billionaires had contributed to efforts designed to block him; Reuters, meanwhile, noted opposition extending beyond the Democratic Party, including Donald Trump’s late endorsement of Cuomo, threatening to cut funds for New York City if Mamdani were to win the mayoral race (Bloomberg, 2025; Time, 2025; Reuters, 2025). 

Mamdani’s lead in the polls and its translation into electoral victory was almost immediately interpreted through the familiar idiom of populism. Commentators across progressive, centrist, and conservative outlets described his campaign as “economic populism,” “left populism,” or as proof that people-centered anti-establishment politics had become endemic to the contemporary United States (O’Donnell, 2025; Sirota, 2025; Michael, 2025; Pilkington, 2025; Heer, 2025; Wimbish, 2025; Laleoğlu, 2025; Epstein, 2025). Some cast him as a left-wing counterpart to Donald Trump: a populist, different in content, but comparable in form, tone, and social appeal. Multiple sources framed Trump and Mamdani as structural equivalents in populism. Mechoui argued that “Trump and Mamdani are just as notable for their convergences as their contrasts,” emphasizing that both are “manifestations of the same development: the concentration of executive power” (Mechoui, 2025) as both figures strategically shape voter desires through populist messaging. The Economist similarly observed that “Like Donald Trump, Zohran Mamdani promises ‘a new approach to power,'” noting that despite their ideological opposition, both represent a shared political method focused on executive action over procedural constraints (The Economist, 2026). 

Others contended that “ideology matters, but method matters more,” highlighting how both leaders deploy decisiveness, norm-challenging, and narrative clarity as their primary tools, regardless of left-right positioning (CEO Today, 2026). Epstein positioned both Trump and Mamdani within a broader populist tradition, defining populism as rooted in “public distrust of established legal and social institutions” combined with “would-be champions of sweeping reform” (Epstein, 2025), a framework that encompasses both figures despite their ideological divergence. Even more cautious analyses still implied that Mamdani’s politics were populist, stressing anti-elite mobilization, the activation of disaffected voters, and the construction of a new majority coalition out of constituencies alienated from establishment politics (Dionne, 2025; Singh, 2025). 

Mamdani’s campaign raises a problem that a populist classification alone cannot resolve. People-centered antagonism and the linking of grievances can occur in projects with different relations to plurality, representation, and institutional mediation. The more important and urgent task is to examine how popular claims are formulated, joined, authorized, and contested: whether a common identity extends constituent actors’ capacity to act together or concentrates authority to speak and decide in their name.

This article makes a theory-building intervention grounded in a bounded interpretive case study. It asks: How can analyses of popular politics distinguish institutional articulation that preserves autonomous voice and contestation from closure around an indivisible popular will, and what does Mamdani’s campaign reveal about that distinction? The argument proposes and develops an analytical typology distinguishing among plebeian rupture, populist closure, and plebeian-institutional articulation. 

These three concepts address different questions about the politics of the popular. Plebeian rupture concerns political emergence: people previously excluded or assigned a subordinate position assert their standing as actors entitled to shape collective life. Plebeian-institutional articulation concerns how that agency can endure through organizations, representation, and institutional participation. Its distinctive feature is that those actors retain meaningful opportunities to formulate demands, influence priorities, and challenge their representatives. Populist closure concerns the treatment of disagreement: it develops when a leadership or organization claims exclusive authority to express an indivisible popular will and treats competing claims as illegitimate.

Their relationship involves no necessary sequence. Political emergence need not begin with a dramatic rupture, and a disruptive mobilization may already contain claims to exclusive representation. Institutional articulation can sustain agency and provide protections against closure through independent organizations, accountable representation, and procedures that keep collective priorities open to revision. These protections do not merely depend on the existence of institutions of representation but on their effective function. They require continuing political work. Where they weaken, representatives may increasingly displace the agency of those they represent. Making binding decisions or establishing leadership does not itself constitute closure; what is important is whether those represented retain legitimate and effective means of questioning and redirecting that authority.

Distinguishing these dimensions allows us to examine what happens to popular agency across different moments and relationships within a political project. The emergence of previously excluded actors establishes neither their continuing influence nor the accountability of their representatives. Organizational continuity tells us little, by itself, about whose demands guide the organization. Public disagreement demonstrates independent voice, while its consequences reveal more about the distribution of authority. A project may therefore expand political standing, develop durable institutions, and restrict contestation in different relationships or at different times. The distinction makes those developments visible and allows us to assess how institutional articulation preserves agency, where its protections become ineffective, and whether claims to exclusive popular representation produce closure.

By plebeian-institutional articulation I refer here to a mode of institutionalizing agency from below in which actors contesting unequal political standing retain the capacity to formulate independent claims, challenge representatives, and participate in revising collective priorities. Its defining combination is plebeian political authorship, the pursuit of institutional duration, and autonomous mediation. Populist closure, by contrast, treats an indivisible popular will as authorizing privileged representation and subordinates particular claims and independent contestation to that authority. The distinction concerns what organizational and institutional arrangements enable, not simply whether such arrangements exist.

Mamdani’s campaign is analytically useful in this respect because people-centered antagonism coexists with a dense movement ecology and extensive organizing infrastructures. That combination makes it a boundary case for examining the relationship between popular articulation and mediation. I approach his campaign as a possible experiment in plebeian-institutional articulation whose character must be assessed through the relationships among constituent organizations, campaign leadership, and collective priorities. Neither the presence of intermediaries nor electoral success establishes that those actors retained autonomous voice or effective influence. What is critical conceptually is to distinguish how popular agency acquires institutional duration and how that process may preserve or restrict contestability. Empirically, the article examines Mamdani’s campaign during the 2024–25 election period, focusing on its relationships with the organizations and networks that supported it. This assessment takes the left-populist interpretation seriously. In Mouffe’s account (2018), left populism can accommodate heterogeneous demands and pluralist institutions. Plebeian-institutional articulation may therefore specify relationships that a broader populist classification leaves open. 

A democratic concern with plurality and equal political standing runs through the argument. It directs attention to whether participation gives those involved an effective role in shaping collective priorities and holding representatives to account. The article first develops its conceptual framework and research design, then examines Mamdani’s campaign in dialogue with the left-populist interpretation. It concludes by considering how plebeian-institutional articulation might endure and how the framework could apply beyond this case.

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Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões.

Assoc. Prof. Casarões: What Really Died on October 4 Was Brazil’s Democratic Pact Itself

Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões argues Brazil’s October 4 election marks more than a contest between Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro: it signals a deeper transformation of the country’s democratic order. Assoc. Prof. Casarões contends that “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself,” while stressing that this does not mean democracy has ended. He sees Bolsonarism as still fundamentally personalistic, continuing to revolve around Jair Bolsonaro even as Flávio emerges as its electoral standard-bearer. The interview explores identity polarization, Christian nationalism, punitive security politics, Trumpism, and the transnational far right, while also examining Lulism’s growing association with the establishment. Together, these dynamics place Brazil at what Assoc. Prof. Casarões describes as a consequential political “crossroads.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Brazil’s October 4, 2026 presidential election produced a first-round result that significantly altered the political landscape ahead of the October 25 runoff. Flávio Bolsonaro finished first with about 47% of the vote, ahead of incumbent President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on 45.1%, while right- and far-right forces also performed strongly in congressional and gubernatorial contests. The outcome sharpened the confrontation between Lulism and a post-Jair form of Bolsonarism, while also raising broader questions about the resilience of Brazil’s post-authoritarian democratic settlement, the institutionalization of the radical right, and the future of political representation in the country. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Guilherme Casarões, Associate Professor of Brazilian Studies at Florida International University, argues that the significance of October 4 extends well beyond the immediate electoral competition between Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro. For Assoc. Prof. Casarões, the most consequential development is not simply the continued strength of Bolsonarism without Jair Bolsonaro on the ballot, but what the election reveals about the transformation of Brazil’s democratic order. As he puts it, “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself.”

Assoc. Prof. Casarões is careful to stress that this does not mean Brazilian democracy has ended. Rather, he argues that the political pact sustaining democracy since the transition from military rule in the mid-1980s and its constitutional consolidation in 1988 “is now gone, or at least seems to be over for now.” In his view, this makes the 2026 election even more consequential than the watershed contests of 2018 and 2022. Brazil, he argues, has reached “a crossroads,” with the future character of its democratic system increasingly uncertain. 

At the same time, Assoc. Prof. Casarões resists interpreting Flávio Bolsonaro’s success as evidence that Bolsonarism has already become fully institutionalized. Despite the son’s electoral rise and the growing importance of the Liberal Party, he maintains that the movement “still gravitates around the image of Bolsonaro the father” and remains “a very personalistic movement.” Ultimately, he suggests, Bolsonarism still resembles “a cult of a person,” and “this person is Jair Bolsonaro himself.”

The interview develops this diagnosis across a wider set of themes: the decline of policy-based competition and the rise of identity polarization; Christian nationalism and the religious-populist radical right; punitive approaches to crime; the transnational circulation of far-right ideas; and the interaction between Trumpism and Bolsonarism. Assoc. Prof. Casarões also examines the contrasting trajectory of Lulism, arguing that Lula has increasingly come to symbolize the establishment itself. Taken together, his analysis presents October 4 not merely as an electoral upset, but as a possible marker of a deeper reconfiguration of Brazil’s democratic and populist politics. 

Here is our interview with Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Bolsonarism Is Not Yet Institutionalized

Brazil’s former President Jair Bolsonaro poses with anti-riot police agents after cast their ballot in Rio de Janeiro, Brasil on November 29, 2020. Photo: Antonio Scorza.

Professor Casarões, welcome. Let me begin with the transformation of Bolsonarism itself. Brazil’s first-round result appears to represent something more structurally significant than another confrontation between the political camps created around Lula and Jair Bolsonaro. With Jair Bolsonaro himself absent from the ballot and Flávio Bolsonaro not only emerging as the principal candidate of the right but actually finishing first with about 47% of the vote, are we witnessing the transformation of Bolsonarism from a highly personalized populist movement into a more durable political identity? What would distinguish the institutionalization of Bolsonarism from the simple continuation of the Bolsonaro family?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: That’s a great question and let me take a step back just to refer to what I think is the biggest change after the October 4th elections in Brazil. I think that—and this is something that I’ve argued in a very recent piece that I wrote for The Conversation website—what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself.

By saying this, I’m not implying that Brazilian democracy is over. What I’m trying to say is that the pact that has sustained Brazil’s democracy for over 40 years, starting in the mid-80s, being written into the Constitution of 1988, and sustaining Brazil’s democracy ever since then, is now gone, or at least seems to be over for now. There’s a big change going on in Brazil, therefore making the 2026 elections in the country even more consequential than the 2018 and 2022 elections. This is why we are at a crossroads right now. There’s something going on. We don’t know exactly how to describe what Brazil’s democracy is going to look like in the future, if at all, but this is an important caveat to make.

Now, as for Bolsonarismo, we have other examples around the world of children of very popular politicians who become leaders of movements themselves. That’s the case of Marine Le Pen in France. If we think about the transition between Jean-Marie Le Pen and Marine Le Pen, there’s a big inheritance, but also a big transformation between these two moments of leadership. We also have something along similar lines in Peru, with Alberto Fujimori back in the 1990s and early 2000s, and now we have Keiko Fujimori, who is Peru’s current president. So, this is not very unusual, if you think about it, politics is also hereditary in many ways.

Bolsonarism Is Still a Cult of Jair Bolsonaro

But I don’t think that the case of Brazil really represents a break, or an evolution, for that matter. We are not yet witnessing the institutionalization of Bolsonarismo in Brazil, because everything still revolves very much around the figure of Jair Bolsonaro, the former president who’s now serving 27 years in prison under house arrest for attempting a coup d’état back in 2022. He was convicted in 2025. But the references are almost entirely directed at him. The movement still gravitates around the image of Bolsonaro the father. He was the one, to be sure, who handpicked his oldest son, Flávio, to succeed him on the ballot in 2026.

However, I’m not sure, and I don’t believe that we are at the point of institutionalization of a movement yet. It’s still a very personalistic movement. We are yet to see what Flávio’s going to make of his own party. Flávio ran on the ticket of the Liberal Party of Brazil. Bolsonaro was also affiliated with this party. This has become more and more the party of Bolsonarismo in the country, but the Liberal Party has been around for much longer.

It never really represented Bolsonaro. He used it more than anything else. That was a very recent turn taken by Bolsonaro himself back in 2021 in order to run, because in Brazil you need to be affiliated with a party in order to run, and I think that if it depended entirely on Bolsonaro the father, he wouldn’t really have a party. He tried to create one from scratch, and he couldn’t.

What we have in Brazil, which is a multi-party-political system, is that the Bolsonarista movement captured one of the parties that was just lying there, a party that sees a great benefit in joining the rank and file of Bolsonarismo, and that’s where we are right now. Therefore, we might have to wait for another electoral cycle. Or this is something that’s going to happen along the way between right now and 2030, but the point is that it’s not fully institutionalized yet.

We might see this transition happen at some point down the road, but I still think that, if I could describe Bolsonarismo as a political movement, it really seems to me like a cult of a person, and this person is Jair Bolsonaro himself.

Lulism Became Personalistic, but Lula Remained Institutional

Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva walks among supporters on Augusta Street at São Paulo on the eve of the brazillian election on October 1, 2022. Photo: Yuri Murakami.

Conversely, the first-round result also sharpens the succession problem for Lulism. Lula remains the principal integrative figure of the Brazilian left, yet he finished behind Flávio Bolsonaro despite entering the election expecting to win in the first round. Should Lulism itself be understood as a variety of left populism, and if so, how does its populism differ analytically from the moral polarization, anti-establishment rhetoric, and cultural politics associated with Bolsonarism?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: Let me unpack these points. The first thing readers have to understand about Brazil is that the very same political elites who took power back in the mid-80s, after the end of a 21-year military dictatorship in the country, are the same elites who are still in power today. That’s true for the right and the left. You see, Bolsonaro himself—now he’s in jail—but he was a congressman for 28 years before getting elected president in 2018. Even though he used to depict himself as an outsider, as an anti-establishment candidate, we know for a fact that the same guys who have been around for over 30 years now, they were the ones who, if not established the New Republic, as we call Brazil’s post-dictatorship moment, were there from the get-go.

I don’t think that this is something that a lot of people understand about Brazil. Lula himself has been around for a very long time. He was the founder of the Workers’ Party back in 1979, and he very quickly rose to become one of the most popular politicians in Brazil. He ran for president in Brazil’s first direct presidential elections in 1989. He ran again in 1994 and in 1998, and he was defeated in the first three elections he ran. Then he got elected in 2002, got elected again in 2006. He handpicked his successor, Dilma Rousseff, in 2010, who then won again in 2014.

Lula was about to make a comeback in 2018, but he was put in prison, and he couldn’t run at the end of the day, so he ran again in 2022. We’re talking about so many elections. I mean, six and a half, if we consider 2018 as an election that he could have run, and he ended up not being able to, and now it’s the seventh time. He ran for president. He runs for president. I’m not going to say things in the past because the election is still not decided, but let’s consider that, despite what happens on October 25th, Lula’s going to be a seven-timer when it comes to presidential elections.

People are tired of this. They are tired for many reasons. I mean, Lula is 80 years old. Of course, in today’s world, it’s not unusual to have leaders who are over 80 or over 70, and that’s totally fine. But the fact that he was president for three full terms, the fact that he was able to choose his own successor, who was impeached in 2016—and there are many explanations for the impeachment proceedings—she was very unpopular. She drove, according to many, Brazil to its worst economic crisis in generations.

Because of that, we are witnessing a politician who is very popular on the one hand and, of course, very acclaimed internationally because of all his diplomatic feats, but who’s also very much worn down on the other hand. He doesn’t look tired if you watch his speech at the General Assembly of the United Nations or if you watch Lula in action during the campaign. He doesn’t seem tired, but people are tired of him.

Is he a populist? I don’t think he’s a populist. If you look at the definitions of populism that we work with on a daily basis, it’s mostly about the division between the elite and the people and, of course, claiming that he, or the populist leader, is the only one able to speak on behalf of the people, maybe with a capital P. This is not Lula.

Lula Has Become the Target of Political Dissatisfaction

Let me explain to you why I think it’s not the case. Lula might have been very divisive during campaigns. Indeed, if you go back to 1989, or 1994, 1998, or even 2002, he was always talking about the elites versus the people. And he, being a former metal worker and somebody who came from a very poor background back in the 1950s or 1940s, identifies with the people, and that’s all true. But the behavior of populists must go beyond elections. Elections are naturally moments in which you see some division flourish because you have to draw lines between yourself and your opponents. Populism goes beyond that. A populist has to govern using the same strategies or the same narratives that have allowed this person to get elected in the first place. 

This is not Lula. Ever since he was elected for the first time in 2002 and took office the next year, he’s been super institutional. He’s been one of the most institutional presidents that we’ve ever had, and that might explain at least part of his success. So, there is Lulismo in the sense that there was a time, especially with the first corruption scandals that go back to 2005, when we might have seen a moment when Lula detached himself from the Workers’ Party. This is when one very famous commentator in Brazilian politics, André Singer, wrote a book about the rise of Lulismo, or Lulism, as opposed to petismo, or Workers’ Partyism. He was basically describing the opposite trajectory of the far right. The far right moves from the personal to the institutional, and PT and Lula were moving from the institutional to a more personalistic approach to politics. That’s true, but Lula as a president has been something else. He has been very institutional. He has been very willing to make concessions and to cooperate and to negotiate.

You can look at it from a positive perspective and basically say, “okay, this is great.” Lula is a man who’s been able to advance a lot of very important policies regarding the reduction of inequality in the country, the reduction of poverty, and social welfare policies of many different kinds. That was all good, and that was all made through a lot of concession and a lot of negotiation. 

But at the same time, because he’s been so willing to negotiate and to make concessions ever since he got elected for the first time, a lot of people identify him as the representative of the establishment. So, whenever there’s a corruption scandal, whenever there’s something that Brazil’s democracy can no longer deliver, people will naturally blame it on Lula himself because he’s the face of Brazil’s democratic pact. He’s the face of Brazil’s establishment in so many ways. 

And the more people get frustrated with the establishment, the more people hate everything that’s going on in Brazilian politics, they will look at Lula and say, you are the one to blame because you’ve been around for so long. It’s not populism, but it’s a personalistic identification with the system, which is, by definition, the opposite of populism in so many ways, that has made Lula so popular, but also the preferential target of pretty much every single dissatisfaction we’ve seen in Brazil for the last 20 years or so.

Brazil’s Political Divide Is Now About Identity

Flávio Bolsonaro.
Senator Flávio Bolsonaro during a pro-amnesty demonstration in support of former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo | Dreamstime.

The first round now seems to confirm that Brazil is confronting two highly developed political identities: Bolsonarism as a cultural, moral, religious, and anti-establishment formation, and Lulism as a socially redistributive and inclusion-oriented coalition. At the same time, the strength of Bolsonarista candidates in congressional and gubernatorial races suggests that the right’s political identity extends well beyond the presidential contest. Does this mean that Brazilian polarization is becoming more deeply institutionalized even as it becomes somewhat less dependent on Lula and Jair Bolsonaro personally?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I believe so, and there’s a reason for this. You’ve correctly pointed out that polarization has just grown in Brazil. It’s hard to be super rigorous when it comes to polarization, because there are many different hypotheses about this. Some people just dismiss the idea that there is polarization to begin with. I think there is, and it shows not only in presidential elections, but also in the rhetoric that we have seen politicians embrace over the last eight years. It has become more divisive. It has become more violent and aggressive, especially on the side of the far right.

I would say that the big division, or the big chasm, between the two major political groups in the country today—Bolsonarismo on the one hand, and the left progressives or Lulismo on the other—happens around identity lines. So, it’s not necessarily a matter of policy.

You see, back in the 1990s or the 2000s, the PT, the Workers’ Party, was running against the Social Democratic Party, which was the center-right party of that time, and they were fundamentally disagreeing around policy. I mean, what’s the best policy for our economic adjustment? What is the best policy to tame inflation? What is the best policy to include more and more poor people into the job market or into the schooling system? So those were the conversations back in the day. To be fair, I really miss them because those were programmatic discussions. Those were relevant, tangible policy discussions. What we see today is mostly about identity.

On the one hand, you have a project that’s been around for at least 40 years. This is not the Workers’ Party. That was the consensus that Brazil got to after the end of the military dictatorship. What was this consensus about? Number one, the idea of Brazil being a diverse country. Diversity was part of the idea of what being a Brazilian was. Diversity of race, diversity of religion, even diversity of parties and political positions. This very pluralistic notion of a diverse country is at the base of Brazilian politics. That’s been around for a long time. I would even go as far as to say that even during the times of the military dictatorship, some of the consensus around what the Brazilian identity was already there. That was the identity consensus that the PT embraced and built upon.

What Bolsonaro offers, on the other hand, and he’s been offering this ever since he ran for the first time in 2018, and even more so now, is a very different identity that I could describe in one idea, which is the idea of Christian nationalism. You see, what the Bolsonaro family and movement are trying to push is the notion that you can only be a true Brazilian if you belong to a specific faith. Of course, it’s not just about religious affiliation. You can be a Catholic, you can be an evangelical Christian, a Protestant. You can be a spiritualist of any kind, as long as you think about the world in terms of these conservative culture-war values, you belong.

It was interesting because, just to illustrate this point, back in 2017, Bolsonaro was running. He was in his pre-campaign, and he was at a rally in a state in the northeast of Brazil, and he very explicitly said, unlike what people think, Brazil’s a Christian country. Minorities must bow to the majority of this country. He was basically saying this country belongs to Christians and not to anyone else.

The week after that, he was interviewed by a YouTube channel of the Jewish community in Brazil. There are a lot of Jews in Brazil who’ve supported Bolsonaro from the very beginning because they saw Bolsonaro as the savior of relations between Brazil and Israel at the time. Bolsonaro was the first and the only candidate so far who vowed to transfer the embassy of Brazil from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. We know that back in the early Trump years, that was something that mattered a lot to many countries. So, basically, he was interviewed by this Brazilian Jewish channel on YouTube, and he got the question: You said that Brazil is a Christian country. What about the Jews? And Bolsonaro then responded, “Aren’t Jews Christians too?”

Christian Nationalism Is Central to Bolsonarista Identity

So, it tells us that it’s not about religion. It’s about something bigger. It’s about the notion of belonging along the lines of identity. Jews can be Christians in this regard. Even some Muslims can be Christians in this regard, depending on your political views, depending on your worldviews in general. So, identity is key to understanding the big divide that we find ourselves in in Brazil right now. But there’s something that goes beyond that.

Brazil’s not the United States. Brazil has always had a multi-party system since the end of the Second World War. And because of that, Brazil’s democracy has always been built around consensus. Of course, consensus can be good and bad. If you pursue a lot of consensuses, then you’re probably not going to get very far. You’re not going to get anywhere, because you’re always trying to build a super-consensual position that’s possibly not going to work fully. But that’s what Brazil’s democracy has always looked like, at least over the last 40 years.

One of the things that Bolsonaro has proposed, and that’s another very important division right there, is a different democracy, not based on consensus, but based on the majority. But we can name this, if you want, the tyranny of the majority. This is, in many ways, what populism is also about: the notion that as long as I’m enabled to speak on behalf of the people, it doesn’t matter if 50% of the country voted for me, or 80%. I will be able to govern only for those who voted for me in the first place. 

This divisive notion of democracy, which is certainly not compatible with our own understanding of what a liberal democracy is, is also part of Bolsonaro’s repertoire, is also part of what he’s been standing for. It’s a combination of things, but I think that it goes on a very social dimension and also runs to the institutional dimension along identity lines, which are very different from the ones that we have become used to in Brazil.

Bolsonarism Defines the People by Who Does Not Belong

Your work on populism emphasizes its capacity to divide political space between a morally legitimate “people” and forces portrayed as threatening that community. In the wake of the first round, who exactly constitutes “the people” in the Flávio Bolsonaro version of the Bolsonarista imaginary? Is he reproducing Jair Bolsonaro’s construction of ordinary Brazilians against political, judicial, cultural, and intellectual elites, or has the electoral success of October 4 encouraged a broader and potentially more institutionalized version of this populist identity?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: That’s a good question. Flávio has never really been openly explicit about who the people are. The people are basically those who vote for him, who voted for his father in 2018 and 2022. Of course, he throws some ideas around at times, such as: you got to be conservative. So, the true Brazilian is conservative. The true Brazilian respects family values. The true Brazilian is in favor of individual freedoms and liberties. The true Brazilian is Christian—and again, in a very enlarged, weak definition of what Christianity is, because it’s a Christian nationalist thing, not necessarily a religious thing. This is the people defined by Flávio Bolsonaro. 

But most importantly, one of the great abilities of the far right in Brazil—and that’s also true for many other countries, the United States and some Latin American countries as well, but that also includes Europe—is that identity is not only defined by what you project about what the people should be, or what the people are. Identity is also established around the negatives, around what people are not. As important as saying that people are Christian and conservative and pro-family and whatnot, we also have the other side, which is demonizing different expressions of what Brazilian society should be. Of course, if you’re a follower of an Afro-Brazilian religion, it’s going to be very hard for you to fit into this notion of Christianity. If you’re progressive, or woke, as they call it, it’s going to be very hard for you to be part of that idea of society. If you’re LGBTQ, or if you’re a woman—especially a woman who stands for her own right to be autonomous and to do her own things—that doesn’t really sit well with the traditional family idea.

This project of Bolsonarismo as a movement is not so much just about constructing who they think the people are but also defining the enemies of the people. That happens on a regular basis, and it happens as we speak. Those are moving targets because sometimes all it takes is somebody from Bolsonaro’s inner circle to call you a communist. Then you’re going to become a communist in the eyes of whoever’s looking at you. It’s not just about what you do; it’s about how people want to portray you. It’s interesting to see, for example, that in the political world, there were a lot of former Bolsonaro allies who’ve become communists overnight because Bolsonaro said so at some point in the past. This is an interesting thing. We’re talking about identity, and this identity is not yet institutionalized, because it would take maybe a generation of a different education system, a different perspective of history, and different laws to allow this identity to fully reveal itself and to become an integral part of Brazil’s institutions.

But the message is already there. Of course, with a strong presence in both chambers—we’re talking about pluralities, of course, not a majority of 50 plus 1%—Flávio Bolsonaro will probably have, if he gets elected, more than a quarter of the House of Representatives and more than a quarter of the seats in the Senate as well, just about a third, really. So, it’s unprecedented. Never before in Brazil’s 40-year democracy have we had a party with so many seats in both houses of the legislative branch. If they want to start changing laws, if they want to start changing education, if they want to start redefining what Brazil is as a country, now is the time for them to do it.

The Populist Right Turns Fear of Crime into a Promise

Streets of favela Vidigal in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on May 30, 2015. Photo: Donatas Dabravolskas.

Public security was one of the major concerns of voters in the first round, alongside the economy, sovereignty, and corruption. Flávio Bolsonaro has campaigned on a particularly punitive approach to crime, including proposals to designate gangs as terrorist organizations and create maximum-security prisons modeled on El Salvador. How does security become a specifically populist issue? Does radical-right populism gain traction by transforming legitimate concerns about violence into a broader moral distinction between “honest citizens,” dangerous outsiders, permissive elites, and supposedly obstructive institutions?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: People are afraid, people are scared, and violence plays a very important role in that. Of course, you can use many different scare tactics to bring people to your political camp. You can talk about transgender people using different-sex bathrooms. You can talk about transgender people in sports. You can talk about Muslims being a religious menace to the country.

But in the case of most developing countries out there—that might also be true for the United States, but let’s stick to the Third World for a minute, to the developing world—violence is very real. Violence is deeply structural because it runs on inequality. It runs deep into the big class divides of society. So, people have many reasons to be scared.

It used to be a middle-class problem, maybe back in the 1970s or the 1980s, but nowadays it’s more and more everyone’s problem. Even poor people are having their phones taken away. Even poor people are having their houses broken into. That’s a problem that somehow binds Latin American countries together, because these countries are going through the very same things. Violent crime is on the rise. We have a lot of organized crime groups that promote chaos in many of these countries. Drug trafficking is a real issue, gun trafficking and arms trafficking are real issues, and, of course, mortality rates are also going up because of gun violence in most of these countries.

So yes, I totally understand why people are scared. I also understand that it’s much easier for the right to tap into this fear and turn it into a promise. We don’t know if this promise is going to be fulfilled, and I don’t think it’s going to be fulfilled at all, unless you embrace a model along the lines of Nayib Bukele in El Salvador, which is a very specific thing that might work for a country as tiny as El Salvador, but certainly won’t work for Colombia or Brazil or Argentina or Mexico, which are much bigger countries.

So, I think that we have a problem, because the only example that the right has, when it comes to being tough on crime, is an example of a semi-dictatorial or authoritarian regime at this point. But it’s interesting to see that all the opponents of Lula in this race of 2026 have, at some point, mentioned the Bukele model as something that they looked up to. Flávio Bolsonaro was no exception.

This also serves as a point of identity, because one of the first big divisions that Bolsonaro the father would play out, a couple of years before the presidential race, was between the good citizens and the criminals. So, if you support him, you’re a good citizen. If you support the Workers’ Party, if you support the left or communism, you’re also a criminal. Or at least you’re vouching for criminals all the time.

Populism Offers Simple Solutions to Complex Security Problems

Of course, it doesn’t add up in reality because they say they are against crime, but most of the people who’ve been elected on the right, and even Flávio Bolsonaro himself, have massive charges of corruption and a lot of investigations going around. These guys are not clean at all, and some of them—Flávio Bolsonaro himself—have a very close relationship with organized crime groups in Rio de Janeiro, which is one of the most populous states in the country.

Therefore, it’s a fictitious division, but it’s a division that really resonates with people because what they are basically saying is, if you vote for me, I’m going to prevent you from getting robbed again. I’m going to prevent you from having a gun pointed at you again.

Of course, there’s no magical solution for that. Bolsonaro the father, while he was in office, wasn’t able to change a lot. The only thing that he really changed during his tenure was that he passed a lot of laws deregulating gun control in Brazil, meaning that a lot of citizens now have more access to guns than ever before. It hasn’t really solved the problem of crime or violent crime.

So basically, that’s a good point, because this is extremely populist, if you think about it. Populism is also about coming up with magical solutions, very simple solutions for generally very complex problems. Public security is one of the realms in which the right has been able to offer the simplest of solutions, which is either putting everybody in prison—that’s the Bukele model—or what they believe is the US model, which is basically giving guns away to everyone. Neither of those models really solves the problem. But people still have hope that this is something they can hold on to: maybe Brazil’s going to be better in the future. I don’t think it’s going to be, not with that kind of policy.

Religious Politicization Is on the Rise

Brazil.
People take part in the celebration of Yemanjá in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil on February 2, 2019. Photo: Ember Stefano | Dreamstime.

Religion is central to your scholarship on Bolsonaro. In your work with Ricardo Barbosa Jr., you propose the category of the “religious-populist radical right,” arguing that religion provides not only ideas but also organizational resources and social power through which the radical right can capture institutions and participate in transnational culture wars. How useful is this concept for understanding the first-round result, particularly given Flávio Bolsonaro’s strength among evangelical Christians and Lula’s continuing advantage among Catholics?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: This is a very interesting paradox, because, as Pippa Norris and other authors have demonstrated very recently, religious affiliation is decreasing worldwide, meaning that we live in a world that’s not as religious as it used to be, certainly not 40 or 80 years ago. The paradox is precisely the fact that even though religious affiliation is declining, religious politicization is on the rise, meaning that those who are trying to hold on to religion are becoming more and more political.

We used to live in a society that had a clear division between what’s religious and what’s political. Of course, it’s impossible to prevent these things from overlapping occasionally. But all in all, secularism had prevailed, and that was the original thought.

Then, as early as 1993, an American sociologist called Mark Juergensmeyer wrote a book called The New Cold War?, in which he defends the idea that what’s new about the end of the Cold War is precisely the rise of religious nationalism. When he wrote this book back in 1993, he was talking about religious nationalism in some parts of the Middle East, religious nationalism in some parts of South Asia, religious nationalism in some parts of Africa, and that was that. He himself even treated that as a peripheral phenomenon.

What we have seen over the last 30 years, however, is the mainstreaming of religious nationalism. If you look at it today, a lot of far-right movements are very closely tied to this new identity of religious nationalism. If you think about Vladimir Putin in Russia, there was a turn at some point between 2012 and 2016 in which he became very close to Orthodox Christianity in Russia.

Erdoğan, in Turkey—he was elected as Prime Minister back in 2002. Of course, the AKP was always very religion-infused, but at the same time, it wasn’t a religious party, strictly speaking, and he has become more and more religious with time. The whole idea of making Russia Imperial Russia once again, or making Turkey Ottoman Turkey once again, these are all very strong religious tropes.

What’s interesting about religious nationalism today, and that’s one of Juergensmeyer’s theses, is that it attaches itself to an idea of civilization as well. No matter if you’re a Catholic, a Protestant, or an Evangelical Christian in Brazil, Argentina, Peru, or, above all, the United States, irrespective of your specific religious affiliation, you have this civilizational notion that has to be preserved. We have to protect what a lot of people across the hemisphere have called the Judeo-Christian tradition.

I could have mentioned other examples, and Israel and India are also very important examples of the mainstreaming of religious nationalism. If you look at Benjamin Netanyahu’s government right now, it’s pretty ethno-religious. It’s even more than just religious. If you look at India’s BJP and Modi, their core ideology is Hindutva, which is basically Hindu nationalism as well.

Religion and Populism Are Formidable Together

What I’m trying to say here, and that’s the reason why Barbosa and I came up with this notion of the religious-populist radical right, is basically that what we see today is precisely the mainstreaming of such religious ideas and the fusion of these religious ideas with populism. If populism is about creating this divide between the people and the elites, now the people are the religious ones. The religion of the people is the fundamental thing that has to be observed and has to be somehow preserved in these countries.

It was born out of a case study about Brazil. But it brings a more universal lesson for what we have experienced in many parts of the world. Religion and populism are formidable together. They are able to produce many important results, especially because they speak not only to the organizational side of things, they speak not only to the money that fuels all these movements, but they speak fundamentally about belonging and about identity. This is what makes it so strong.

Europe might be an exception. I just want to mention this, because I don’t want to elaborate on this, but I think it’s important to make a distinction here. We talk about the far right, treating them as though they were part of the very same set of ideas, and, of course, European far-right movements are also very much civilizational, but it’s not necessarily along religious lines.

France and Germany say little about religion, whereas Spain and Portugal say a little bit more about religion. Europe is a more complicated mosaic that we have to look into, but in Latin America and the United States, the hemisphere has become fundamentally Christian nationalist. That’s an important take on whatever’s going on right now in our part of the world.

Religion Is a Powerful Transnational Force in the Americas

Christ the Redeemer statue.
Tourists enjoy the first sunset after a week of rain and thunderstorms from Corcovado Hill, overlooking Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, on March 3, 2013, with the Christ the Redeemer statue above the city. Photo: Kseniya Ragozina / Dreamstime.

Your research also suggests that Christian nationalism under Bolsonaro was not merely domestic but transnational: religious narratives shaped alliances, culture-war agendas, relations with Israel, and participation in conservative international initiatives. To what extent has this transnational religious nationalism survived Jair Bolsonaro’s presidency and become embedded in the broader Brazilian right? Does Flávio Bolsonaro’s first-round victory suggest that this infrastructure can continue shaping Brazilian politics and foreign policy without Jair Bolsonaro personally returning to power?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: Over this summer, I taught a course called Transnational Politics in Latin America. My original idea was to talk about the transnational far right in Latin America. That was my obsession. But it turns out that I decided to take a step back and look at the much bigger picture of transnationalism in Latin America, from colonial times all the way down to today. Basically, it was a course on so many different angles of transnationalism in Latin America.

One of the things that I learned from that course, based on the readings that I put together and the discussions that I had in the classroom, was precisely that religion has been one of the most transnational things connecting countries in Latin America or in the Americas, by and large. Because if you think about the beginning of the colonization of the Americas, especially Spanish and Portuguese America, meaning Latin America in general, it all starts not only with Spain and Portugal, but with the Jesuits, with the Catholics from that time. So, colonization had a very strong transnational component, and this component was the Catholic faith, evangelization, missionary work, and so on and so forth.

What we see during the Cold War is another chapter of the same process. But now, we’re not talking about religion coming out of Europe to change the landscape of Latin America. From the 1960s on, in the middle of the Cold War, we’re talking about the Protestant faith, in a way, trying to challenge not only communist atheism but also, and most importantly, what became known as liberation theology in Latin America.

So, we have to put things in context and remember that in Latin America, the Catholic Church took a turn to the left in the 1960s and 1970s, so much so that Pope John Paul II from Poland went after these bottom-up grassroots movements of the Catholic Church because they were, according to the official doctrine of the church, becoming communists themselves.

Protestantism emerged out of the United States. Of course, Protestantism is also very national. We have national churches being built, or national movements being created in El Salvador, the Dominican Republic, Brazil, Paraguay, and the list is pretty long. But at the same time, there was a very important push by US administrations, by the CIA, by a number of US-based churches, to project this faith transnationally onto Latin America during the Cold War.

This is important because what we see right now—the growth of evangelicalism in Brazil, in Chile, in Argentina, in a lot of Central American countries—is precisely the unfolding of this process. It’s a long shot, of course, but it has paid off. Brazil, for example, when I was born in the 1980s, had around 5 to 7% evangelical Christians. In 2026, Brazil has about 30% of the population as evangelical Christians. It’s a big change.

Some countries have become evangelical-majority countries, as opposed to the Catholic majority that has always dominated the landscape in Latin America. My point is that evangelicals have become more and more consequential.

Evangelicalism Has Helped Turn Conservative Ideas into Policy

Of course, one of the transnational nodes that we can identify is precisely cultural war. One of the things that evangelical churches, movements, and leaders import from the United States, in exchange among them, is the fight against abortion, the fight against LGBTQ rights, the fight against drugs, which is framed in a very specific way, traditional family values, Christian nationalism, Christian Zionism, which is the love for Israel. All these things are, in many ways, the web that connects all these churches and movements around the region.

So, as much as Bolsonarismo as a movement is transnational, and religion plays an important role in that, the far right in Latin America is born out of transnational forces. And, of course, religion is also a very important point of that process.

Now, we have to make a distinction, however, and not treat all evangelicals as the same thing. Not all evangelicals are in favor of Israel. Not all evangelicals are in favor of Bolsonaro, for that matter. Not all evangelicals love the idea of Trump interfering with Brazilian elections. I would say that nowadays, because of religious values or because of even conservative worldviews, evangelicals vote for Bolsonaro, be it Flávio Bolsonaro the son or Jair Bolsonaro the father, at a 70–30 ratio. So, out of the around 60 million evangelicals that we have in Brazil, some 40 million consistently vote for Bolsonaro.

Some people blame the leaders. Some people say it’s just about these leaders of megachurches in São Paulo, in Rio, and in other urban areas. They are the ones who call the shots, and if we are able to defeat these people, then we’re going to be able to change the minds of the followers. That’s fundamentally wrong.

Of course, leaders have a very big influence on how followers vote. Even when they don’t talk about it explicitly, we have a lot of people who go to the services and who listen to the pastors and the leaders, and they fundamentally agree with that. It’s not about an imposition of vote or political positions; it’s just agreement. This is important because it also explains that maybe the role of leaders is limited, more limited than we think.

There’s an American scholar called Amy Erica Smith from the University of Iowa, and she wrote a book about evangelicals in Brazil. She basically says it’s important to consider the role of evangelical leaders, those who own churches, those who replicate churches, even internationally, but we cannot pretend that voters are not agents of their own decisions. Meaning that evangelical Christians might vote for Bolsonaro not because their leader has told them so, but because they believe in what they’re listening to. They believe in the promises. That’s an important thing. And, of course, what evangelicalism has done to countries like Brazil is not that it has transformed voters into more conservative voters. It’s different. Evangelicalism, because it’s a more outspoken faith, as opposed to Catholicism, has allowed these conservative ideas to flourish and to become more open.

It’s not about changing people’s minds. Brazilians, as much as Turks, as much as Argentinians, as much as whoever else you want to name, most people are conservative in one way or another. Religion is there to enable these conservative ideas to become policy. That’s where we are right now in Brazil.

Bolsonarism Began by Emulating Trump

Supporters of Brazil’s former President (2019–2022) Jair Bolsonaro hold signs during a demonstration in São Paulo, Brazil, on September 7, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

This brings us to Trumpism. Donald Trump became an explicit issue in the first-round campaign, with Lula accusing the US president of seeking to influence the election in Bolsonaro’s favor, while Flávio Bolsonaro openly advocated a closer relationship with Trump. How should we understand Trumpism’s influence on contemporary Bolsonarism after the first-round result: as imitation, ideological diffusion, strategic borrowing, or participation in a genuinely transnational populist network?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I think it’s a transnational thing. It starts out with emulation or imitation. In the beginning, when Bolsonaro decided to run for president back in 2016, that was precisely the time Trump was about to get elected in the United States. And the moment Trump got elected, in November 2016, Bolsonaro started calling himself the Brazilian Trump, or Trump of the tropics. That’s another version of the story.

Of course, the beginning was mostly about emulating Trump’s playbook, because we have to concede something to Trump: his playbook was super successful. It was successful because it tapped into identity, it tapped into people’s fears, it tapped into people’s hate—hate for whatever they hate, either racial hatred or religious bigotry, it doesn’t matter. Trump was able to bring all of these things together into one movement, which was not cohesive, it was not super tight, but it was a loose movement that was able to get him elected in 2016. Bolsonaro attempted the very same things, and it worked. Emulation has paid off.

But emulation is not the whole story, because ever since Bolsonaro got elected, or even slightly before that, we could already notice some degree of circulation of ideas among these movements. Brazil and the United States have the two biggest and most important far-right movements in the hemisphere. We’re talking about the two biggest countries anyway.

The American and Brazilian Far Right Borrow from Each Other

It would be naive to say that everything that the Brazilian far right does is just a copy of what the United States did. If you look at the evolution of the two movements side by side, you’re going to see that there’s a lot of interaction between them. There were times when the Trump movement, or the MAGA movement, also borrowed from some of the strategies played out by Bolsonaro in Brazil. For example, the whole “dictatorship of the courts” argument is an old argument in US politics, but it started out with Brazil and then trickled up to the United States. It’s an interesting thing, because if you analyze these two movements closely, you’re going to see a lot of interaction. At this point, we can safely affirm that it’s a truly transnational movement with a lot of back and forth.

These movements talk to each other, they translate each other’s talking points, they resort to each other’s images at times. It wasn’t rare to see Trump, when outside of power in 2022 and 2023, using some images of Brazil and saying, this is what’s going to happen to the United States if Biden stays in power, or something like that. So, in many ways, there is a degree of interaction.

The interesting thing at this point is that it’s not just about the US and Brazil, because a lot of these things have also been incorporated into some other movements around the hemisphere, Argentina, Colombia, etc. Bernardo de la Espriella, Colombia’s new president, has a good relationship with Trump, but also with the Bolsonaro family. They show up at CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) together at times. Eduardo Verástegui of Mexico, who is probably the least likely to win, because Mexico is a very much consolidated political system, and now it’s settled on the left. But he’s friends with Flávio Bolsonaro and Eduardo Bolsonaro, who’s Bolsonaro’s son as well. Eduardo Bolsonaro is a very young former congressman who lost his office because he had spent too much time in the United States, and he still lives in the United States, where he has kept lobbying in favor of the liberation of his father from prison ever since last year, and he’s got the ears of a lot of people in the White House as of now.

It’s interesting to see how these things are articulated and how these things circulate. I’m currently working on this, so that’s probably going to be my next paper or something—on the transnational routes of the Latin American far right. So, it’s not just about the mechanism; it’s also about the origin of these movements and the conditions that have enabled these movements to be considerably successful, if you look at them right now, in power in so many countries of Latin America.

The Workers’ Party Has No Alternative to Lula

Brazil, Lula de Silva.
People shout slogans during an International Workers’ Day demonstration in São Paulo, Brazil, on May 1, 2026. Photo: Dreamstime.

Finally, what does the October 4 first-round result tell us about the evolution of populism in Brazil? With Flávio Bolsonaro leading without Jair on the ballot and Lulism showing signs of weaker electoral dominance, are we moving from charismatic leadership toward more institutionalized populist identities—and what could this mean for Brazilian democracy?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I don’t think so, and let me explain. Bolsonarism is still very much a populist movement. Of course, the leader now is the son, not the father, but as we’ve mentioned a few times before, the movement still gravitates very much around the image of Jair Bolsonaro. Of course, there might be an evolution, there might be successors outside of the family, and there might be some changes along the way. But the way things are as of right now, it’s a very personalistic and a populist movement in this regard, too.

Meanwhile, the left has a problem in Brazil. Lula might have been a populist very early on. He might have run so many elections, some unsuccessfully, on a populist platform. But Lula can no longer be considered a populist. Because nowadays, when people look at him, what they see is not an agent of transformation, an agent of change. What they see today when they look at Lula is a backward politician, somebody who acts on behalf of a corrupt system, of an outdated model of politics.

So, in many ways, we can draw a comparison between what happened in the United States under Biden and what happened in Brazil under Lula. This is not to say that Lula’s going to lose the second round of elections. Maybe he will, and most likely he will, but I’m not even taking that into account. What I’m trying to say is that what Lula represents today, regardless of whether he gets elected or not, is the establishment. People look at him and they see a failed model right there.

Of course, I understand that some people can be, as we say in Portuguese, chameleons. Some people can just change identities over time; some people can just build new identities from scratch. But Lula has been pretty much the same person ever since the beginning. Now, at 80, people look at him, and they can’t see any expectation of transformation.

Because of that, one of the biggest mistakes that we’ve had, both in the United States and in Brazil—that’s also true for Argentina and perhaps some other countries—is that these countries’ elites on the left, who used to be populist back in the day, or who could have become populist at some point, have failed to construct alternatives. 

The Workers’ Party has no alternative to Lula. This is why he’s running for the fourth term. Very worn down, tired, old, but he’s still the only option. We don’t even have, in Brazil, a Kamala Harris option, which would be, maybe, Fernando Haddad, who’s the former finance minister of Brazil, who already ran in 2018 and lost to Bolsonaro’s father.

Brazil Missed the Chance for a Positive Left-Wing Populism

So, what we have today is a left, a progressive movement in Brazil, that has become, to speak directly to your question, so deeply institutionalized that it cannot really detach itself from the bad things people see in the system itself. As much as we see with the Democratic Socialists of America movement and Abdul El-Sayed and Zohran Mamdani, all these guys—AOC, of course, was the first one to come up with that, and Bernie Sanders, of course, enabling the others—this is something that Brazil needs.

We don’t have a two-party system, so this is probably going to happen as a specific partisan movement in Brazil. But the feeling that I have is that, unfortunately, we have missed the opportunity to consider a positive left-wing populism emerging to counter the right-wing populism that we have so dominant in the country right now.

Panel-DemographicPopulism

ECPS Panel on Demographic Populism / Demography as a Political Battleground: Migration, Family, Race, Religion, and Radical-Right Populism

Moderator

Klaudia Koxha (Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Lausanne).

Speakers

“Populist Strategies of Normalizing Demographic Fears,” by Oscar Mazzoleni (Professor in Political Science and Political Sociology at the University of Lausanne). 


“The Scientific Normalization of ‘the Great Replacement’ Conspiracy,” by Alberta Giorgi (Associate Professor in Sociology of Culture and Communication at the University of Bergamo).

“From Demographic Winter to Civilizational Struggle: Anti-Abortion Networks and the Global Radical Right,” by Carol Mason (Otis A. Singletary Chair in the Humanities and Professor at University of Kentucky, US).

“Mestizaje, Backlash, and the Politics of Demographic Populism: Race and Gender in Latin America,” by Carlos de la Torre (Professor at the Centre for Latin American Studies, University of Florida).

“Anti-Muslim Mobilization: Demographic Change and Radical-Right Populism in Austria,” by Reinhard Heinisch(Professor of Comparative Austrian Politics at the University of Salzburg, European Studies Center associate at the University of Pittsburgh and visiting lecturer at Renmin University of China).

Associate Professor Nick Beauchamp.

Assoc. Prof. Beauchamp: Democratic Socialism Could Have a MAGA-Sized Effect Without Winning Majority Support Nationally

In this ECPS interview, Associate Professor Nick Beauchamp of Northeastern University examines the evolving relationship between MAGA, democratic socialism, political communication, and the institutional structure of American politics. Assoc. Prof. Beauchamp argues that MAGA’s dominance of the Republican Party should not be confused with uniform ideological agreement among Republican voters, emphasizing that “there’s a difference between how much the beliefs have spread and how much the ideology or the party has taken over.” He suggests that democratic socialism could exert comparable national influence even without achieving majority support, noting that a progressive or DSA-aligned faction could still have “similar effects nationally.” The interview also explores media selection, institutional trust, polarization, AI-driven political persuasion, and the persistence of anti-establishment politics.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As the United States approaches the November 3 midterm elections, the political landscape is defined by an unusually narrow congressional balance, weak public evaluations of the economy, declining approval of President Donald Trump, and an election increasingly interpreted through attitudes toward Trump himself. At the same time, MAGA has become deeply embedded in the Republican Party, while Democrats remain divided over how far an economically populist and democratic-socialist agenda should shape their response to Trumpism. Against this backdrop of personalized politics, ideological polarization, institutional conflict, and an increasingly fragmented information environment, the relationship between insurgent movements and the established two-party system has become especially consequential. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Associate Professor Nick Beauchamp of Northeastern University’s Department of Political Science and Network Science Institute offers a structural interpretation of the apparent asymmetry between MAGA’s transformation of the Republican Party and democratic socialism’s more contested position within the Democratic coalition. Rather than treating MAGA as equivalent to the Republican electorate as a whole, Assoc. Prof. Beauchamp stresses that “there’s the MAGA further-right faction and then the center-right faction. Those two things still exist.” He consequently distinguishes between the diffusion of ideological beliefs among voters and the institutional capture of a political party: “there’s a difference between how much the beliefs have spread and how much the ideology or the party has taken over.”

That distinction underpins one of the interview’s most consequential observations. Assoc. Prof. Beauchamp argues that democratic socialism does not necessarily have to become nationally majoritarian in order to acquire transformative political influence. Even if the Democratic Socialists of America (DSA) or the broader progressive left were unable to move substantially beyond their current “core of urban, educated, young, left-leaning liberals,” he maintains that “they could still have similar effects nationally.” There is also, he adds, a possible route toward a broader populist coalition appealing to “economically distressed rural or suburban voters,” although such expansion is “not necessary for having a MAGA-sized effect.”

More broadly, Assoc. Prof. Beauchamp situates both MAGA and democratic socialismwithin the institutional architecture of American politics. Because the presidential and first-past-the-post systems sustain two large parties, he argues, ideological movements operate as factions competing for control within them. Political outcomes therefore depend not only on ideological appeal but also on contingency: “Trump almost lost the primary in 2016, and Sanders almost won the primary in 2016.” Had those outcomes shifted, he observes, “we’d be living in a very different world.” 

The interview thus moves beyond a simple comparison of left- and right-wing populismto examine how factional capture, institutional structure, media selection, political communication, AI-driven personalization, and anti-establishment sentiment may shape the next phase of American democracy.

Here is our interview with Associate Professor Nick Beauchamp, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Dr. Mara Nogueira.

Dr. Nogueira: Trump’s Influence Is Shaping Brazil’s Election, Making It a Very Important and Dangerous One

In this ECPS interview, Dr. Mara Nogueira examines Brazil’s 2026 presidential election through the intertwined dynamics of US influence, Bolsonarism, Lulism, religion, labor, and political identity. She argues that the role of the United States—and particularly the alignment between Donald Trump and the Bolsonaro family—has become a consequential new element in the contest, describing the election as “a very important and dangerous one.” Dr. Nogueira also reflects on the durability of Bolsonarism, the increasingly defensive character of Lulism, the political weight of evangelical networks, and the effects of precarious work, entrepreneurialism, and social media. More broadly, she situates Brazil within a transnational landscape of authoritarian and revanchist populism while stressing the importance of class, region, religion, and changing expectations of the state.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As Brazil approaches the October 4, 2026 presidential election, the contest is unfolding amid persistent polarization, a resilient yet more defensive Lulism, the continued strength of Bolsonarism beyond Jair Bolsonaro himself, and increasingly salient cleavages around religion, public security, welfare, and regional inequality. These dynamics are particularly significant in light of the research of Dr. Mara Nogueira, Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London, whose work examines the intersections of populism, urban politics, labor, inequality, informality, and political belonging in Brazil, with particular attention to revanchist populism, antipetismo, and the social and spatial foundations of Bolsonarism. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Nogueira emphasizes that Brazil’s 2026 election cannot be understood exclusively through domestic political cleavages. Alongside the enduring influence of anti-PT sentiment, regional divisions, gender, class, and religion, she identifies the role of the United States—and particularly the Trump administration—as a new and consequential element in the electoral landscape. “One thing that you didn’t mention in your question and that I think is worth pointing out is the influence of the US in this election,” she stresses, adding pointedly: “They’re not hiding it.”

For Dr. Nogueira, this external dimension became especially visible when President Donald Trump imposed tariffs on Brazil, measures that she interprets as carrying “a very high political element.” She also points to broader American strategic interests in Brazil and argues that political influence should be understood alongside economic considerations, including US interest in Brazilian mineral resources. “There are several interests at play,” she notes, “political influence being one of them.”

The contrast with the 2022 election is, in her view, particularly significant. While Washington inevitably had interests in Brazilian politics under President Joe Biden, Dr. Nogueira argues that the current situation is qualitatively different because “the alignment between Trump and the Bolsonaro family is very well known.” This relationship, she cautions, constitutes “a dynamic there that will need more attention and more scrutiny.”

It is in this context that Dr. Nogueira describes the 2026 election as both unusually consequential and potentially dangerous. According to her, the presence of “one political project that’s very well aligned with American interests”means that, “with Trump in government,” the consequences “could be a very disastrous thing for Brazil and Latin America.”

The interview therefore situates Brazil’s electoral contest not only within the domestic struggle between Lulism and Bolsonarism, but also within a broader transnational configuration linking Trumpism, far-right populism, economic restructuring, religious mobilization, and changing expectations about the role of the state.

Beyond the question of US influence, the interview also explores the changing balance between Lulism and Bolsonarism as political projects. Dr. Nogueira argues that Lulism remains anchored in the Northeast and among lower-income voters, but has become increasingly defensive. She suggests that “Lulism has perhaps become a victim of its own success,” as social mobility has altered popular aspirations and Lula’s political appeal has become more closely associated with defending past achievements than promising transformative change. 

Religion is another central theme. Dr. Nogueira stresses that evangelical identity has become deeply embedded in everyday social networks and political value formation, particularly in Brazil’s urban peripheries. At the same time, she cautions against treating “the evangelical vote” as a homogeneous bloc, emphasizing the intersection of religion with class, region, gender, and other identities. 

The interview further situates Brazil within broader transformations in labor and political communication. Dr. Nogueira connects precarious employment, entrepreneurialism, and changing expectations of the state to the appeal of authoritarian and revanchist populism, while also highlighting the growing importance of social media and algorithmic echo chambers in shaping political identities and limiting communication across electoral divides. 

Here is our interview with Dr. Mara Nogueira, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Dr. Semir Dzebo.

Dr. Dzebo: Dayton Accomplished Peace in Bosnia, but It Has Not Been Great at Democracy

In this interview with ECPS, Dr. Semir Dzebo, Postdoctoral Researcher at the Centre for Socio-Legal Studies at the University of Oxford, examines Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections through the lenses of populism, nationalism, secessionism, and ethnic politics. He argues that Bosnia remains marked by “stable instability”: Dayton secured peace but has struggled to function as a democratic constitution. Dr. Dzebo discusses “populist secessionism,” the erosion of anti-elite appeals under long incumbency, competing constructions of “the people,” Croat and Bosniak representation, foreign influence, disinformation, and the limits of territorial revisionism. Rather than expecting dissolution or a sweeping constitutional settlement, he points toward incremental reform, EU integration, stronger state capacity, desegregated schooling, cross-ethnic electoral incentives, and improved economic conditions.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Bosnia and Herzegovina approaches its October 4 elections amid renewed strain on the political architecture established by the Dayton Peace Agreement. More than three decades after the end of the 1992–95 war, questions of statehood, entity autonomy, ethnic representation, foreign influence, and the legitimacy of shared institutions remain deeply intertwined. Political competition continues to be structured less by a conventional left–right divide than by competing understandings of sovereignty, citizenship, collective rights, and of who constitutes the legitimate political community. Against this fragmented backdrop, the elections are not simply about who will govern Bosnia and Herzegovina, but about the character and durability of the post-Dayton state itself.

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Semir Dzebo, Postdoctoral Researcher at the Centre for Socio-Legal Studies at the University of Oxford, examines these tensions through the lenses of populism, nationalism, secessionism, and ethnic politics. He argues that electoral competition in Bosnia carries unusually high constitutional stakes because “whatever coalition gets formed after the October 4th elections is, in a way, a choice about the state itself.” In this sense, the election resembles “a de facto referendum” on the country’s future political architecture.

A central theme of the conversation is what Dr. Dzebo conceptualizes as “populist secessionism.” Whereas ordinary nationalism operates along a horizontal axis of competition between national communities, populist secessionism introduces a vertical, moral division between an allegedly authentic people and corrupt or illegitimate elites. In this framework, political disagreement becomes morally charged: as Dr. Dzebo puts it, disputes that might otherwise be negotiated can acquire “this moral dimension that turns them into treason,” making compromise appear as capitulation.

The interview also explores the limits of this strategy. Dr. Dzebo’s research suggests that support for secession in Republika Srpska is driven less by populist attitudes than by ethnonational identification, ingroup bias, deteriorating intergroup relations, and economic grievance. Long incumbency, moreover, can erode the credibility of anti-elitism: voters predisposed against elites may increasingly view Milorad Dodik himself as part of the elite.

The broader diagnosis culminates in Dr. Dzebo’s assessment of Dayton itself. Bosnia, he argues, lives in a condition of “stable instability.” Dayton “has really accomplished the first task” of securing peace, but “has not really been great at the second task” of functioning as a democratic constitution. Yet he rejects both expectations of imminent dissolution and hopes for a sweeping constitutional reset, instead pointing toward incremental reform, EU integration, implementation of Strasbourg judgments, stronger state capacity, desegregated schooling, cross-ethnic electoral incentives, and improved economic conditions as the more plausible path toward a more cohesive democratic order.

Here is our interview with Dr. Semir Dzebo, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.