“The more rigid the regime becomes, the more easily it may break,” warns Dr. Spyros Sofos in an illuminating interview with ECPS. Tracing the Erdogan regime’s shift from reformist Islamism to a personalized authoritarianism, Dr. Sofos highlights how the dismantling of institutional checks and grassroots engagement has deepened Turkey’s democratic crisis. He sharply critiques the EU and US for enabling this drift, arguing that their silence—rooted in strategic pragmatism over refugee control and regional stability—amounts to tacit complicity. As Erdogan’s rule grows more centralized and brittle, Dr. Sofos suggests its very inflexibility could be its undoing. Amid repression and international complacency, he insists, spaces for resistance persist—and the next rupture may come from within the regime itself.
In a timely and far-reaching interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Spyros Sofos—Assistant Professor in Global Humanities at Simon Fraser University—offers a deeply informed and critical analysis of the Erdogan regime’s evolution into an increasingly rigid and personalized form of authoritarian populism. “The more rigid the regime becomes,” Dr. Sofos warns, “the more easily it may break.” Far from being a sign of consolidated power, he argues, the regime’s escalation of repression—most recently with the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu—betrays deep insecurity and structural fragility within a system that has steadily dismantled institutional checks and blurred distinctions between state, party, and judiciary.
Dr. Sofos traces how the AKP’s early reformist stance, driven in part by strategic engagement with European institutions, gave way to a calculated centralization of power following institutional resistance from the military and judiciary. He explores the AKP’s ideological recalibration—through religious nationalism, neo-Ottoman nostalgia, and pan-Turkic outreach—as a tactical means to expand and solidify its coalition amid economic turmoil and intra-Islamist fragmentation.
Yet just as trenchant is his critique of the European Union and the broader West, whose response to Turkey’s democratic backsliding has been marked by passivity and strategic self-interest. “Effectively, what the EU and the US have been doing is wanting Turkey to ensure that the masses of displaced people within its territory would not move towards the West,” he states bluntly. In prioritizing border control, security cooperation, and transactional diplomacy over democratic principles, Western powers have turned a blind eye to the regime’s authoritarian escalation—signaling tacit approval through their silence. Dr. Sofos calls out this hypocrisy, echoing Imamoglu’s own condemnation of European leaders for abandoning not just him personally, but the very idea of democracy in Turkey.
He also warns that the West’s failure to push back meaningfully against Erdogan’s authoritarian turn—driven by domestic electoral concerns and geopolitical calculus—risks normalizing the erosion of democracy, both in Turkey and beyond. With comparative insights from Hungary, India, and Israel, Dr. Sofos situates the Turkish case within a wider global trend of populist-authoritarian drift, but insists that this is not a one-way trajectory. The regime’s internal contradictions, coupled with mounting grassroots resistance and international hypocrisy fatigue, may yet create opportunities for democratic renewal.
This interview is not only a sobering account of democratic decline in Turkey, but also a compelling indictment of Western complacency in the face of it.
In an in-depth interview with ECPS, Professor Kent Jones warns that Donald Trump’s second-term trade strategy amounts to a “tariff dictatorship,” dismantling WTO norms and centralizing unprecedented power. “Trade has become a populist weapon,” says Professor Jones, “used to stoke anger and identify scapegoats rather than manage the economy.” He explains how Trump’s emotionally charged, anti-globalist rhetoric recasts trade deficits as existential threats while ignoring economic realities. Yet Professor Jones remains cautiously hopeful: “Globalization has faced downturns before. The human impulse to exchange and specialize endures.” As America retreats, he argues, others may step up. “If the US won’t lead, new trade alliances will form. But unpredictability is a burden—not a strength.”
In this timely and wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Prof. Kent Jones—Professor Emeritus of International Economics at Babson College and author of Populism and Trade: The Challenge to the Global Trading System—offers a sobering yet analytically rich critique of the Trump administration’s second-term trade strategy. Drawing on decades of experience and deep institutional knowledge, Professor Jones warns that the United States is no longer the steward of the postwar liberal trade order, but rather its chief saboteur. He argues that President Donald Trump’s erratic and hyper-personalized approach to trade—what he calls a “tariff dictatorship”—has effectively dismantled key pillars of the World Trade Organization (WTO), including most-favored-nation treatment and tariff binding, while concentrating unprecedented power in the hands of one individual.
Professor Jones emphasizes that trade policy, under Trump, has ceased to function as a tool of economic management and has instead become a populist weapon—repurposed to rally a nationalist, anti-elite political base through emotionally charged narratives about foreign threats and national decline. Trade deficits are recast as existential challenges, tariffs are imposed arbitrarily, and America’s longstanding commitments to multilateralism are eroded in favor of bilateral, loyalty-based deals that reflect Trump’s personal brand of grievance politics.
Yet amid this bleak portrait of institutional decay and populist distortion, Professor Jones also leaves room for cautious optimism. He underscores that globalization has weathered cyclical downturns before and that the human impulse to exchange, specialize, and cooperate across borders remains strong. While the US has stepped back, other actors—including the European Union, Canada, and emerging regional blocs—may step forward to rebuild a rules-based trade system, albeit imperfectly and without American leadership. Furthermore, Professor Jones suggests that the very unpredictability and economic pain caused by Trump’s tariffs may provoke renewed public scrutiny, mobilizing calls for Congress to reclaim its constitutional role in trade policymaking.
Ultimately, Professor Jones invites us to consider not only what has been lost, but what might still be recovered—provided that political institutions, civil society, and international alliances respond with resolve. As the world faces growing economic fragmentation, his insights provide a vital lens for understanding what’s at stake and how democratic societies might chart a path forward.
“The more rigid the regime becomes, the more easily it may break,” warns Dr. Spyros Sofos in an illuminating interview with ECPS. Tracing the Erdogan regime’s shift from reformist Islamism to a personalized authoritarianism, Dr. Sofos highlights how the dismantling of institutional checks and grassroots engagement has deepened Turkey’s democratic crisis. He sharply critiques the EU and US for enabling this drift, arguing that their silence—rooted in strategic pragmatism over refugee control and regional stability—amounts to tacit complicity. As Erdogan’s rule grows more centralized and brittle, Dr. Sofos suggests its very inflexibility could be its undoing. Amid repression and international complacency, he insists, spaces for resistance persist—and the next rupture may come from within the regime itself.
In a timely and far-reaching interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Spyros Sofos—Assistant Professor in Global Humanities at Simon Fraser University—offers a deeply informed and critical analysis of the Erdogan regime’s evolution into an increasingly rigid and personalized form of authoritarian populism. “The more rigid the regime becomes,” Dr. Sofos warns, “the more easily it may break.” Far from being a sign of consolidated power, he argues, the regime’s escalation of repression—most recently with the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu—betrays deep insecurity and structural fragility within a system that has steadily dismantled institutional checks and blurred distinctions between state, party, and judiciary.
Dr. Sofos traces how the AKP’s early reformist stance, driven in part by strategic engagement with European institutions, gave way to a calculated centralization of power following institutional resistance from the military and judiciary. He explores the AKP’s ideological recalibration—through religious nationalism, neo-Ottoman nostalgia, and pan-Turkic outreach—as a tactical means to expand and solidify its coalition amid economic turmoil and intra-Islamist fragmentation.
Yet just as trenchant is his critique of the European Union and the broader West, whose response to Turkey’s democratic backsliding has been marked by passivity and strategic self-interest. “Effectively, what the EU and the US have been doing is wanting Turkey to ensure that the masses of displaced people within its territory would not move towards the West,” he states bluntly. In prioritizing border control, security cooperation, and transactional diplomacy over democratic principles, Western powers have turned a blind eye to the regime’s authoritarian escalation—signaling tacit approval through their silence. Dr. Sofos calls out this hypocrisy, echoing Imamoglu’s own condemnation of European leaders for abandoning not just him personally, but the very idea of democracy in Turkey.
He also warns that the West’s failure to push back meaningfully against Erdogan’s authoritarian turn—driven by domestic electoral concerns and geopolitical calculus—risks normalizing the erosion of democracy, both in Turkey and beyond. With comparative insights from Hungary, India, and Israel, Dr. Sofos situates the Turkish case within a wider global trend of populist-authoritarian drift, but insists that this is not a one-way trajectory. The regime’s internal contradictions, coupled with mounting grassroots resistance and international hypocrisy fatigue, may yet create opportunities for democratic renewal.
This interview is not only a sobering account of democratic decline in Turkey, but also a compelling indictment of Western complacency in the face of it.
Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Spyros Sofos.
Ottoman Nostalgia as a Tool of Populist Reinvention
Supporters await the arrival of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan at a referendum rally in Istanbul on April 8, 2017. Photo: Thomas Koch.
Professor Sofos, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How do you interpret the Erdoğan regime’s mobilization of Ottoman nostalgia in both domestic and international contexts as part of a broader populist-authoritarian narrative?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: Thank you for having me. That’s a very interesting question, as there has been considerable discussion about neo-Ottomanism and the broader concept of Ottoman nostalgia. I believe the Erdogan regime needed a narrative that could effectively counter the one developed by the Kemalist regime over the past century. This new narrative serves several purposes.
The first is linked to the regime’s reinterpretation of history—particularly evident in debates around the reconversion of Hagia Sophia and other Christian monuments. Erdogan’s government has framed the Justice and Development Party (AKP) constituency as victims whose sovereignty was denied under the Republic for 100 years. In that context, a return to Ottoman nostalgia becomes a way of reclaiming a past where, ostensibly, there was more sovereignty and the people were heard. This re-imagined past helps construct an alternative vision of popular sovereignty, centered around the AKP’s base—and, I would argue, much of the nationalist constituency as well.
The second reason relates more to the interests the current leadership perceives as central to Turkey’s role both domestically and internationally, as well as to the political elite’s own strategic goals. For example, we see Ottoman nostalgia being used in foreign policy to justify, or at least lend legitimacy to, expanded relationships with countries that Turkey sees as pivotal—not only in its immediate region but also across Africa.
A striking example is Turkey’s presence in the Sahel and West Africa. The invocation of Ottoman-era connections is used to frame Turkey’s involvement in countries like Somalia—not only in humanitarian terms but as part of a broader strategic interest, grounded in a historical narrative of Ottoman reach. This is, of course, a very flexible interpretation of history, but one that the regime has used effectively.
This pattern also applies to Turkey’s outreach in the Balkans—something that began under Turgut Ozal. In countries like Bosnia, North Macedonia, and Albania, there’s a strong emphasis on rekindling historical and cultural kinship, often under the umbrella of shared Ottoman heritage.
Interestingly, the outreach to Central Asia—while unrelated to the Ottoman Empire—is also wrapped into this broader narrative. This connection seems driven either by economic interests or by a pan-Turkic nationalism that predates the AKP. So while neo-Ottomanism features prominently in both domestic and foreign policy, the regime also draws on other strands of historical memory to shape its identity and strategy.
From Reform to Repression: The Strategic Evolution of Political Islam under the AKP
How has political Islamism under the AKP evolved from a reformist or counter-hegemonic force into an ideological tool for authoritarian consolidation and state-led populism?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: I think that’s an important question. Political Islam—broadly speaking—had long been under threat from Turkey’s military, judiciary, and bureaucratic institutions before the AKP’s first electoral victory. In those earlier years, Islamist politicians were cautious in how they criticized the state and its institutions.
In the first five or so years of the AKP government, we saw what some scholars have called a “politics of patience”—a cautious, incremental approach to reform. There were several reasons for this. First, the AKP sought to emphasize its commitment to European institutions and to the broader European integration project. As such, it had to present itself as a genuinely reformist party.
While it may sound a bit cynical to frame it this way, this positioning made it much harder for the military and judiciary to halt the AKP’s political momentum. After all, the AKP was arguably the most pro-European and pro-reform force in Turkish politics at the time. Any attempt to stop it would likely have triggered significant Western backlash, possibly even sanctions. With hindsight, I now see this as a carefully calculated strategy. At the time, I was quite hopeful—thinking that this opening could bridge the divide between the “old regime” and the emerging Islamic-oriented political elite. But in retrospect, it seems it was more about ensuring the survival and viability of Erdogan’s political project.
The so-called “e-coup” during the 2007 presidential election, when Abdullah Gul’s candidacy was being obstructed by military and judicial actors, marked a turning point. This intervention allowed Erdogan and his allies to pivot from their cautious stance to a more confrontational and assertive posture.
So, while the AKP initially positioned itself as reformist out of necessity, the institutional resistance it faced—particularly from the army and judiciary—created an opening for it to strike back sooner than it might have otherwise. And unfortunately, this shift happened at a time when civil society lacked the strength to act as an effective check on power.
Islamist Nationalism Rebranded: Survival Politics in Erdogan’s Turkey
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan watching the August 30 Victory Day Parade in Ankara, Turkey on August 30, 2014. Photo by Mustafa Kirazli.
Do the regime’s increasingly religious-nationalist narratives reflect a deeper radicalization or strategic recalibration—and to what extent do these still resonate with the AKP’s traditional base amid economic hardship and intra-Islamist fragmentation?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: That’s one of the most interesting and challenging questions I’ve had to think about over the past couple of years. I believe we need to complicate the idea of the AKP as simply an “Islamist” party, full stop. It’s something more complex—and its ideology has evolved, largely in response to shifting constituencies that it needs to mobilize for political survival.
Over the years, we’ve seen alliances like the one with the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) and Devlet Bahceli, which introduced a significant nationalist component into the AKP’s political orbit. Most recently, in the 2023 presidential elections, we witnessed a major push to win over nationalist voters. While Islam isn’t necessarily incompatible with nationalist currents in Turkey, this required the AKP to recalibrate its discourse in a way that differed substantially from its earlier messaging.
The party continues to promote a form of nationalism infused with Islamic elements, but it’s no longer offering the same vision as in the early 2000s. It’s certainly not a reincarnation of Alparslan Turkes-style nationalism either—but it has shown a willingness to experiment with different formulations of Turkish nationalism in order to appeal to broader political forces and secure electoral dominance.
This ideological flexibility is significant. Some of the intellectual figures in the AKP’s broader sphere of influence now engage with strands of nationalist thought that were previously absent from Islamist political discourse in Turkey.
At the same time, I don’t believe Islam has been displaced from the core of the AKP’s identity. But it has never been the only element. From the beginning, the party positioned itself as a voice for the downtrodden—regardless of their level of religiosity or piety. It’s always sought to build a broader coalition, and I think that remains true today.
In your work on the Gezi Protests, you emphasized the significance of bottom-up resistance. How do the dynamics of current mass protests compare to the 2013 Gezi movement in terms of ideological coherence, regime response, and potential for catalyzing long-term democratic transformation?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: That’s also the million-dollar question. So let me just try to unpack a few things about Gezi. I think Gezi was unique in the sense that it was not a movement that wanted to change a government. It was not aspiring to play a political role in the way, for example, that political parties would. And I think that was the secret behind its success and its failure at the same time. So it was a movement about bringing some sort of freedom into what Habermas would have called the life-world.
It was a movement that was against the policing of everyday life, people’s bodies, people’s relationship with nature, and so on. And of course, it had a political emphasis, which is the element of continuity. So it was a different movement, but there was also an emphasis on change—not necessarily governmental change—that I can see today in the mobilizations that have been taking place, especially after the arrest of Imamoglu recently.
What has changed, I think, and what is quite interesting to bear in mind, is that the mobilizations of today, at least in my reading, have not been as unplanned as the mobilizations of Gezi. You know, most people—I interviewed people—said, “I went there because I felt something was happening, and I needed to be part of it.” Today, many people may be thinking that something is happening and they need to be part of it—but I think Imamoglu himself, who is a very astute politician, had been preparing for this moment, and therefore he had ensured that there would be some sort of planning for what happens after his arrest or incapacitation.
We see that also in the fact that he’s been able to communicate out of jail fairly easily, that he managed to publish in international media quite articulate articles that could not have been scribbled at the last minute. And also, we have a change within the CHP that has allowed the party to be more able to mobilize people in support of democratic change.
I’m not trying to say that there is something sinister about this. I’m trying to say that there is a spirit of Gezi in the air—I can see that—but there is also more of a relationship between the current mobilizations and the political parties of the opposition that want to see democratic change.
Imamoglu’s Arrest Signals the Cracking Façade of Competitive Authoritarianism
To what extent does the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu mark a definitive rupture in Turkey’s evolution from competitive authoritarianism toward full-fledged autocracy—and does it reflect a broader erosion of political pluralism?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: I was always cautious about Imamoglu, because I really consider him a very astute politician—a politician who is not authoritarian per se, but who has realized that a kind of populism—which I find, I’m always suspicious of populism—was the means of defeating Erdogan. And I was always arguing that Imamoglu may be one of the best hopes of defeating Erdogan, but not populism. But that’s a fine detail we can talk about later.
So, I think that definitely the arrest of Imamoglu, his lawyers, and a lot of his collaborators is an important damage inflicted on the prospects of a more pluralistic political scene in Turkey.
Imamoglu, during his time as Istanbul mayor, has really tried to engage with the grassroots in ways that no other politician has ever done. So I think arresting him is also a kind of condemnation of his political project—of talking with grassroots, of trying to empower and mobilize communities in ways different from the AKP’s.
Therefore, I do believe that it is also an attempt not only at his person, but at the model of politics that could emerge out of a possible victory by Imamoglu. Now we’re seeing a more naked, fully fledged authoritarian move in Turkish politics.
I’ve heard all these discussions about who will succeed Erdogan, and sometimes family appears to be first in these discussions. It indicates that even the fig leaf of competitive authoritarianism is dropping at the moment. But it’s a very fluid situation. The intentions of Erdogan and his advisers may not lead to the results that they want to achieve. I think the regime is the more rigid it is, the more easily it breaks in some ways.
In your view, how has the personalization of power under Erdogan blurred institutional distinctions between the state, the ruling party, and the judiciary? Is the judiciary now operating more as an instrument of regime survival than of rule-of-law governance?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: Let me start from the judiciary, but I will go to the personalization in a minute. We’ve seen that the judiciary was the target of reforms and the target of a lot of meddling. Effectively, what was being planned was to render it less independent. We had all these kinds of promotions of different judges, the retirements of other judges, and so on. There have been pressures from time to time on the judiciary, so definitely the judiciary is no longer a means of checks and balances in the political system.
And this is the problem generally with the hyper-presidential system that Erdogan introduced. In some ways, there is no institution that has the gravitas and authority that the institution of the presidency has. Therefore, it’s not only the judiciary—even the Parliament, in many ways, although there are ways in which it can throw a spanner in the works, as we say—even the Parliament cannot really challenge the presidential dominance in the political system.
Now, if you add the personal charisma and its cultivation by Erdogan, the situation becomes even clearer. It’s not only an institution, but it’s also a president who in the past has spoken out against the courts. When the courts decided against him, he talked about the milletin iradesi—the national will—as superior to the courts’ legal rationale and thinking.
So we can see here that the personalization and the charisma that has been brought into politics is significant, even without the presidential system. But of course, now it is also institutionalized.
A final thought: I had written, when I was writing about Ataturk, that Ataturk had established a two-tier political system, in some ways. I’m simplifying now. One was, of course, the institutions of the Republic—the National Assembly and the party—and then two aborted experiments with the Liberal Party, and so on. And then there was another element—that was his person: the state as a person, and it was the person of Ataturk.
What I meant by this is that whereas the citizen in the villages of the Republic, would be harassed by the jandarma, would be suppressed in a variety of ways, then you would see Ataturk touring the countryside or the cities of the country and being the object or subject of adoration. He would hug kids, and he would talk to people in a charming way. I think Erdogan has done something very similar, and the personalistic element is crucial in that.
So there is a state that is really vicious—it can take passports away, put people into jail—and then you have Erdogan, who cannot do it as well as I think Ataturk did, but on the other hand, he is another facet of the state, unmediated. He talks to people, and he derives authority from this—not from his institutional position only.
Regime Insecurity and Western Complicity Feed Erdogan’s Authoritarian Drift
President of Turkey Recep Tayyip Erdogan arrives at the European Council building in Brussels, Belgium, on May 25, 2017. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.
Would you frame the current authoritarian escalation as a sign of regime insecurity ahead of critical elections, or as part of a calculated strategy to secure post-electoral permanence through managed democracy and repression?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: I would not distinguish these two because they can work together. So what I would say is that we had seen a calculated attempt already in the autumn, when Bahceli talked about PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan visiting the National Assembly, and he said that he treated him as an interlocutor. At the time, I was arguing—and I had written an article that, however, was published very recently—I was trying to say that this was a sign for me that Erdogan and others were feeling insecurity, as they had seen that the Kurdish movement had supported the opposition tacitly in most elections in the past. Therefore, they needed to ensure that this would not continue—that the Kurdish parties, the Kurdish organizations, the PKK would not continue supporting the opposition—and thus they attempted this Kurdish opening, this attempt to bring Kurdish politicians to the table, while keeping Selahattin Demirtas, who would be a charismatic figure that could challenge this possibility, in jail.
So, I think already at the time we could see that regime insecurity was at the center of the thinking of the current political elite. It’s not only Erdogan, it’s all these people who have made fortunes under Erdogan, and they want to maintain impunity and those fortunes. Therefore, they are also insecure, and they have the ear of people close to Erdogan, maybe Erdogan himself. So that’s the first thing.
The second thing is that this also prompts the political leadership at the moment to think that in order to counter this regime insecurity, a system that would limit the possibility of a challenge—political, electoral challenge—to the current incumbents would need to be in place. And therefore we have this leap from regime insecurity to a more authoritarian system that would allow the durability of the current regime in one way or another, and the impunity of those who have managed to benefit from it.
So both.
Do you interpret the EU’s and US’s muted response to Imamoglu’s arrest as tacit legitimation, strategic pragmatism, or democratic fatigue? To what extent does Western inaction enable further authoritarian entrenchment?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: The West, especially the European Union, has a lot to do with the current situation. Already, in the first decade of the century, they were getting cold feet about engaging with Turkey regarding membership or some sort of closer union with the EU. Now, they are much more cynical. They have been treating Turkey—and Turkey has been treating them—in a transactional way.
Effectively, what the EU and the US have been doing is wanting Turkey to ensure that the masses of displaced people within its territory would not move towards the West. In view of the war in Ukraine and the broader threats coming from Russia, they also want Turkey to be a cornerstone of some evolving security policy. I find it difficult to see how this will happen, but that seems to be the logic within Western political circles.
In this sense, now that Turkey has become strategically important for various aspects of Western European security, there seems to be a willingness to turn a blind eye to what is happening domestically in the country. Imamoglu himself said this very clearly, castigating European leaders for doing nothing—not just for failing to support him personally, but for abandoning the broader hope of democracy in Turkey.
I believe there is a general democratic fatigue in the West, especially as many Western governments are dealing with their own populist challenges. In addition, they are wary of creating a rift with Erdogan. There are several reasons for this, including domestic electoral considerations—such as the influence of Turkish communities in countries like Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium.
Erdogan has also been actively engaging in the Balkans, including meddling in Bosnian affairs. Western leaders want to mute this influence. At the same time, they want Turkey to feel that it can benefit from supporting the security architecture of the EU and NATO, and to distance itself from closer ties with Russia. As a result, they are largely disinterested in democratic resistance inside Turkey.
Erdogan Leverages East-West Tensions to Shield His Regime from Accountability
Russian President Vladimir Putin and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan made the opening of the Natural Gas Pipeline (Turkstream) in Istanbul, Turkey on November 19, 2018.
How does Erdogan’s external positioning—on migration with the EU, and regional geopolitics vis-à-vis Iran and Russia—insulate the regime from meaningful international pressure despite ongoing democratic erosion?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: Well, it relates to your previous question, but thank you for this, because it allows me to elaborate a bit more. I think that the positioning of Ankara toward Russia, Iran, and even Syria is quite significant, as it clearly reflects a strategy of leveraging different relationships to insulate the regime—from criticism and possibly even from sanctions. I’m not necessarily talking about economic sanctions.
Erdogan—specifically Erdogan, not necessarily Turkey—has been very skillful in cultivating relationships with both the Iranian leadership, including Khamenei and various conservative politicians, and with Putin. He has also played an active role in the Astana process dealing with the future of Syria, in which Iran and Russia have been central players.
So we can observe a two-pronged strategy here. First, Erdogan ensures that every time Turkey feels under pressure from the West, it can leverage one of these alternative relationships. Second, Turkey is simultaneously helping to develop and participate in institutions that undermine Western international influence.
For example, instead of engaging with the Geneva process on Syria, Turkey remains committed to the Astana process—a trilateral format involving three illiberal regimes deciding Syria’s future. More broadly, we now frequently see Turkey participating in efforts to build an alternative international institutional architecture—one that weakens those institutions capable of holding it accountable.
And lastly, Professor Sofos, how does Turkey’s trajectory under Erdogan challenge or confirm existing theoretical models of populist-authoritarian governance? Are we witnessing a uniquely Turkish path or a globally resonant pattern of democratic decay in hybrid regimes?
Dr. Spyros Sofos: Actually, I’m writing a book at the moment on this, and I am trying to argue that we can see similarities in the cases of Modi in India, Orban in Hungary—to some extent, although Hungary is not an emerging power like Turkey—and even in Israel, where very similar developments are taking place. The judicial reform attempt by Netanyahu could have been written by Erdogan, in many ways.
So what I’m trying to say is that, yes, there is definitely a uniquely Turkish way of building populism. I have struggled in the past to find ways in which the Turkish case can be meaningful for understanding populism, particularly authoritarian populism, more broadly. But leaving aside the particularly Turkish elements—like the century-long divide between those who benefited from the Kemalist reforms and those who were left behind—there is a kind of playbook that we can see being repeated or developed simultaneously in other parts of the world.
Turkey is one of the initiators of a number of political developments that are now being copied by other illiberal actors. But I also see a broader attempt to develop scripts of sliding toward illiberalism—what I would describe as an authoritarian version of populism. I should say, I consider populism—regardless of whether it is left or right—authoritarian in character. So I sometimes find it difficult to use the terms authoritarianism and populism together.
But yes, we can see this happening elsewhere, and therefore we are in for a rough ride. It’s not just one individual country that is affected. I think it’s about the way we are now thinking
In an in-depth interview with ECPS, Professor Kent Jones warns that Donald Trump’s second-term trade strategy amounts to a “tariff dictatorship,” dismantling WTO norms and centralizing unprecedented power. “Trade has become a populist weapon,” says Professor Jones, “used to stoke anger and identify scapegoats rather than manage the economy.” He explains how Trump’s emotionally charged, anti-globalist rhetoric recasts trade deficits as existential threats while ignoring economic realities. Yet Professor Jones remains cautiously hopeful: “Globalization has faced downturns before. The human impulse to exchange and specialize endures.” As America retreats, he argues, others may step up. “If the US won’t lead, new trade alliances will form. But unpredictability is a burden—not a strength.”
In this timely and wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Prof. Kent Jones—Professor Emeritus of International Economics at Babson College and author of Populism and Trade: The Challenge to the Global Trading System—offers a sobering yet analytically rich critique of the Trump administration’s second-term trade strategy. Drawing on decades of experience and deep institutional knowledge, Professor Jones warns that the United States is no longer the steward of the postwar liberal trade order, but rather its chief saboteur. He argues that President Donald Trump’s erratic and hyper-personalized approach to trade—what he calls a “tariff dictatorship”—has effectively dismantled key pillars of the World Trade Organization (WTO), including most-favored-nation treatment and tariff binding, while concentrating unprecedented power in the hands of one individual.
Professor Jones emphasizes that trade policy, under Trump, has ceased to function as a tool of economic management and has instead become a populist weapon—repurposed to rally a nationalist, anti-elite political base through emotionally charged narratives about foreign threats and national decline. Trade deficits are recast as existential challenges, tariffs are imposed arbitrarily, and America’s longstanding commitments to multilateralism are eroded in favor of bilateral, loyalty-based deals that reflect Trump’s personal brand of grievance politics.
Yet amid this bleak portrait of institutional decay and populist distortion, Professor Jones also leaves room for cautious optimism. He underscores that globalization has weathered cyclical downturns before and that the human impulse to exchange, specialize, and cooperate across borders remains strong. While the US has stepped back, other actors—including the European Union, Canada, and emerging regional blocs—may step forward to rebuild a rules-based trade system, albeit imperfectly and without American leadership. Furthermore, Professor Jones suggests that the very unpredictability and economic pain caused by Trump’s tariffs may provoke renewed public scrutiny, mobilizing calls for Congress to reclaim its constitutional role in trade policymaking.
Ultimately, Professor Jones invites us to consider not only what has been lost, but what might still be recovered—provided that political institutions, civil society, and international alliances respond with resolve. As the world faces growing economic fragmentation, his insights provide a vital lens for understanding what’s at stake and how democratic societies might chart a path forward.
Dr. Kent Jones, Professor Emeritus of International Economics at Babson College and author of Populism and Trade: The Challenge to the Global Trading System.
Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Professor Kent Jones.
Trade as a Psychological Tool in Trump’s Populist Arsenal
Professor Jones, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How has trade policy been strategically deployed by Donald Trump as a tool of electoral mobilization? To what extent has the administration’s populist trade rhetoric succeeded in forging a durable political coalition that bridges economic grievances and cultural identity politics?
Professor Kent Jones: As I try to communicate in my book, Trump undoubtedly used trade as a strategic element of his electoral platform. However, it must be understood within the broader context of other grievances he exploited—particularly in the most recent election in November—many of which could be described as cultural. Immigration, for instance, was a major concern for many Americans. Inflation was also a key issue, even though it wasn’t as severe as Trump portrayed it; nonetheless, he promised to bring prices down. These issues were part of a larger constellation of concerns, including cultural ones—such as transgender politics—which, in my view, received disproportionate attention.
What Trump effectively managed to do was to construct a political package in which trade plays a central role in identifying a scapegoat—namely, the globalist elite—whom he claims is responsible for many of the country’s problems. To the extent that he succeeded in doing so, he was able to extend his appeal beyond his base of highly enthusiastic and passionate supporters to include individuals concerned with broader issues—such as border security. At the same time, he found it politically expedient to block Congressional efforts to address immigration, ensuring that the issue would remain salient within his campaign platform.
My focus on trade has always been that it’s part of a larger—perhaps psychological—set of issues that allows a candidate like Trump to say: “Look at immigration and what a problem it is. Well, trade is a very similar thing. Globalists have destroyed American manufacturing, just as immigrants have come in and polluted our population with foreign, unfamiliar, non-American elements.” These themes converge. Trade, as it turns out, is a very important part of Trump’s populist agenda. I don’t see this as a general populist tendency. Most of the other countries I studied in my book had governments led by populists, but many of them were small, open economies that did not have the capacity to use trade as a weapon in their populist platforms. For example, Israel, which currently has a populist government, is a small, open economy that remains broadly committed to free trade. You’re not going to see the same railing against the WTO and related institutions from countries like that as you did from Trump.
Now, regarding whether this is a viable coalition—I think that remains to be seen, because Trump has not kept his promises on bringing inflation down. The immigration problem has somewhat subsided, but he now appears to be focusing as much on that issue as on tariffs. For example, deporting Venezuelans to El Salvador—something that is constitutionally very questionable, and probably illegal. The Trump administration is now trying to position itself as being independent of rulings by courts, including even the Supreme Court, in pursuing its policies. There’s a multi-pronged effort by Trump to gain and concentrate more and more power, and trade is playing a role in that. I think this also reveals some weaknesses in his use of trade, because while people may be upset about jobs being sent abroad, they are equally upset about being charged significantly more—for automobiles, clothing, steel, and aluminum—as a result of his tariff plan. So, I see this as a Trump attempt to use trade politically, but not yet a successful one in cementing a durable populist coalition.
Anger as the Engine in Populist Playbook
Have we now entered the phase you previously anticipated, in which economic expertise in trade policy is increasingly eclipsed by emotionally charged populist narratives? Under Trump’s renewed administration, what specific events or discursive strategies are being used to reignite trade as an emotional flashpoint?
Professor Kent Jones: Yes, of course. In the study of populism, the issue of affect is important. If you can make people very angry, you’re more likely to be successful as a populist—and I think Trump has done that to a certain extent. I’m not sure whether this coalition—going back to your previous question—is very stable, but when it comes to trade, this is something that, as an economist, I’ve always lamented: the idea that a trade balance or imbalance is a valid justification for tariffs.
Trump has attempted to weaponize trade by claiming that foreign countries have, as he puts it, “cheated” and “ripped off” Americans over the past decades by causing the US to run a trade deficit. If you take a close look at his tariff formula, economists have thoroughly ridiculed it. It’s essentially a trade balance-based formula that imposes tariffs according to the size of a country’s trade surplus with the United States—purportedly to justify his so-called “reciprocal tariffs.”
But these tariffs aren’t actually reciprocal, because they don’t target foreign tariffs levied against US imports. Instead, they create a system in which Trump can identify grievances—some trade-related, some not—and then use them to pressure countries into negotiating access to the US market. In this way, he is attempting to weaponize trade by consolidating sole decision-making power over market access. I call it a “tariff dictatorship,” and this authority has, in many ways, been enabled by Congress. It is now backed by a Republican majority that refuses to challenge him effectively.
This is the context in which trade is being used as an emotional issue. For example, many people were bewildered when he claimed, “Canadians have been ripping us off for years.” Most people don’t have that view of Canada. It seems like a friendly country, and yet Trump portrays it as a dark force damaging the American economy.
So yes, I agree that the typical populist playbook relies heavily on affect—on stirring voters’ emotions, particularly anger. The angrier people are, the more likely they are to follow you. When I was conducting research for my book, I found that anger motivates voters more than anything else—even more than fear. If you can make them angry, you can get them to the polls. An angry voter tends to be a more reliable populist voter. Maintaining that level of anger is, therefore, key to Trump’s political strategy and success.
But the Achilles’ heel for any populist, in my view, is basic economic performance. Once a populist is in control of the government, he can no longer present himself as the anti-elitist, because he becomes responsible for policy outcomes. I think the danger Trump faces now with his tariff policy is that he’s making a lot of people nervous—and even angry—because their retirement accounts are being eroded, the bond market is collapsing, the dollar is weakening, and interest rates are likely to rise.
He’s tried to point back to Biden as the cause of these problems, but it’s increasingly difficult to do that when you, as a populist, actually control the White House and both houses of Congress.
At Its Core, This Is About Power—Not Policy
Would you argue that the appeal of ‘economic nationalism’ has now overtaken economic rationale as the dominant force shaping US trade policy?
Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly under Trump it has. The focal point of my book was the impact of all this on institutions. We’ve had tariffs before, and there are actually many Democrats who favor tariffs and may have been more reluctant to criticize Trump in principle for using them.
My argument—ever since these new tariffs began—is that regardless of whether you support tariffs, it is deeply problematic to vest all tariff authority in a single individual who can change them at will, for whatever reason he chooses, under the justification of an emergency economic powers act. Many now argue that this justification is not even legal, because its premise—that there’s a national emergency requiring tariffs as a solution—is questionable.
Just this morning, there was news of a new group of businesses suing the Trump administration over its use of tariffs, claiming it contradicts the very law invoked to support them. What we’re witnessing is the erosion of institutional checks and balances, with trade policy effectively centralized in one person.
There’s also a psychological factor to consider. When you have an individual with a narcissistic personality like Trump, who is used to getting his way, the accumulation of power becomes an end in itself. It enables him to exact revenge on perceived enemies, compel others to seek his favor, or pressure countries into buying more American goods or signing bilateral deals skewed in America’s favor.
So, at its core, this is about power. Trump has managed to concentrate it, and many voices are now calling on Congress to step up and reclaim the authority the Constitution grants it. According to Article I, Section 8, Congress—not the president—has the power to regulate commerce and trade. This is where the institutional battle lies, and it’s where the future of trade governance will likely be contested.
US Trade Has Become a One-Man Operation
Photo: Shutterstock AI.
Are we now witnessing the culmination of what you’ve described as the ‘de–legitimization of trade institutions’ in US politics? If so, what are the broader implications of continued US disengagement from multilateral trade frameworks for global economic stability and governance?
Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly—as long as Trump is President—we’re not going to see much engagement with the WTO in US trade policy. As I’ve documented in my book, and more recently in my commentaries on his tariff policy, Trump has already done away with key institutional principles of the WTO.
For example, he’s discarded the most-favored nation rule, which is foundational to the WTO framework. He’s also rejected tariff binding, the commitment that countries won’t arbitrarily raise their tariffs. These principles stand in the way of Trump’s pursuit of unilateral power. Once those constraints are removed, he can assign different tariffs to different countries’ products—entirely contrary to the GATT/WTO system—and negotiate individual agreements that maximize his own leverage.
Trump claims there are now 75 countries wanting trade deals with him, meaning he can sit down with each one individually, judge the outcome on his own terms, and adjust tariffs at will. There’s no need for congressional input or legislative approval—just Trump’s personal satisfaction. That effectively turns US trade policy into a one-man operation.
This is the antithesis of what the GATT and WTO systems were designed to prevent. Back in 1947, when the GATT was founded, the memory of the Great Depression and the tariff wars of the 1930s—especially the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act in the US—was still fresh. The global economic community had learned that trade wars were harmful, and for 70 to 80 years, that lesson held.
Now, Trump has effectively resurrected the notion that “trade wars are good and easy to win.” He justifies this by pointing to America’s trade deficit, claiming that other countries will bear the cost. But in practice, the 145% tariffs on Chinese goods, for instance, are paid by American consumers. People are starting to realize this—whether it’s an iPhone that might jump from $1,000 to $2,000 or $3,000, a house built with increasingly expensive Canadian lumber, or an automobile that now costs $10,000 to $15,000 more due to a 25% tariff.
These developments are creating a growing crisis for Trump. That’s likely why he’s started pausing tariffs and promising “great deals,” and recently announced some product-specific exemptions—such as with Chinese imports and possibly with automobiles. He knows that if Americans can’t afford their cars, it’ll hit both foreign and domestic models hard, and even drive up the cost of used cars—something already affected by COVID-era supply shocks.
All of this contributes to an unpredictable trade environment, largely because Trump has assumed complete control over tariff policy. At this point, no one else is making trade decisions—just Donald Trump.
Tariffs Have Become Symbols, Not Solutions
3D illustration: Lightspring.
In Trump’s second term, how have tariffs been repurposed more as political symbols than as instruments of economic policy? How is the administration using revived trade rhetoric to frame persistent trade deficits as existential threats, and how is it justifying these measures politically despite their mixed economic outcomes?
Professor Kent Jones: Yes, this really gets to the core of the economic critique of Donald Trump’s trade policy. When you use a trade deficit as a justification for imposing tariffs, there is no theoretical basis for that in economics. Economists understand trade deficits as a macroeconomic phenomenon resulting from the imbalance between savings and investment in a country.
In the United States, the persistent trade deficit reflects higher levels of consumption relative to production, and lower savings relative to investment. When consumption exceeds production, the difference naturally comes from imports.
Trump tried to use this logic in his first term to justify a trade war with China, and now he has extended that rationale globally. But this effort was not successful. The tariffs did not significantly reduce the US trade deficit—not even with China. And as long as the structural imbalance between savings and investment persists, the trade deficit will remain.
Moreover, any reduction in imports from China led to trade diversion. Chinese firms simply rerouted production through third countries like Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines—even Mexico. For instance, Vietnam’s trade surplus with the US grew substantially. Trump is now using that as justification for imposing global tariffs rather than China-specific ones.
So trade deficits are being repurposed symbolically. Whenever Trump can point to a trade surplus from another country, he frames it as a hostile act against the United States. Many Americans, including politicians in Washington, still believe that having a trade deficit means the US is “losing.”
As I often point out in my classes, the US is not a company with a balance sheet—it’s 300 million individuals making consumption decisions. A trade deficit is like an individual going to the grocery store and spending money. That doesn’t mean the store is cheating you. Likewise, if Americans choose to buy Korean cars or Vietnamese clothing, that doesn’t reflect economic weakness or foreign deception. In fact, it’s often a sign of economic strength—of choice, affordability, and productivity.
Nonetheless, Trump has succeeded in convincing many people otherwise. But eventually, the economic consequences catch up. Americans are now seeing the costs in the form of higher prices—for phones, homes, cars, and everyday goods. The stock market and bond market, both globally integrated, are reacting negatively, and that’s something even Trump cannot control.
He’s trying to de-globalize domestic production, but reshoring takes time. Manufacturing shoes, nails, clothing—these can’t be brought back overnight. He says it’ll take six months or two years, but that’s highly unrealistic.
So people are starting to ask: when does the promised pay-off arrive? When will we see the benefits that justify the current pain—higher prices, falling stock values, a weakening dollar, and a diminished global economic reputation?
This is likely why Trump is starting to pause certain tariff measures and promise relief. The symbolic transformation of tariffs into a nationalist cause has been attempted—but economic realities are hard to avoid, especially when you’re the one in charge and can no longer blame your predecessor.
Uncertainty Is the New Normal for Global Trade and the Vulnerable Pay the Price
What socio-economic burdens are likely to be borne by ordinary citizens—both in the US and globally—as a consequence of the Trump administration’s erratic and politically charged trade and tariff wars? How do these unpredictable policy shifts impact everyday economic security, particularly for vulnerable populations?
Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly in the United States, one of the most significant developments in trade policy analysis has been the emergence of what we now call “uncertainty analysis.” In fact, indexes of trade policy uncertainty have become an increasingly prominent tool for tracking how markets react to Trump’s trade policies.
The original idea behind the WTO was to create stability. Everyone followed the same rules, and everyone benefitted from that predictability. These rules included non-discrimination and tariff binding—principles that gave businesses the confidence to invest in trade-related activities. If you were exporting to a foreign market, you could count on that market upholding WTO rules. If you were an importer in the US, you could similarly rely on your own government to follow those rules and not change tariffs arbitrarily.
There were, of course, accepted exceptions in the WTO framework—such as anti-dumping measures—but these were limited and rule-bound. That embedded liberalism allowed trade to flourish within a relatively stable system.
What we’re now seeing, however, is the erosion of that system. The socioeconomic consequences will come first through higher consumer prices. We’re already seeing that. Then, likely, through higher interest rates as global confidence in the US economy diminishes. And higher interest rates increase the likelihood of a recession, with all the accompanying hardships—job losses, reduced investment, and economic insecurity for average Americans.
Globally, the situation is equally troubling. We’re seeing punitive tariffs applied even to poor countries like Bangladesh, Vietnam, and Cambodia. In some cases—like Madagascar, which exports vanilla to the US—American trade officials are complaining that these countries don’t import US automobiles, using that as justification for tariffs. The logic is absurd and completely contrary to the idea of comparative advantage. Expecting a country like Madagascar to buy American cars in exchange for sending vanilla exemplifies the irrationality of these policies.
This kind of policy undermines the efficiency and fairness of the global trading system and inflicts economic pain on both developing nations and their trading partners. The decline in global trade efficiency will affect the most vulnerable—both at home and abroad.
As a result, other countries are beginning to rethink their trade strategies. We’re already seeing Canada and the EU discussing deeper trade ties with each other. And there’s emerging talk of building new multilateral frameworks that exclude the United States.
Of course, a global trading system without US leadership won’t be as effective. The US was, for decades, the anchor of global economic order after World War II. But with Trump’s retreat from multilateralism, we’re now seeing a broader pattern—one that also extends to military alliances. NATO, for instance, has been encouraged to think more about European-based defense. The war in Ukraine adds another dimension to this shifting landscape.
Altogether, this reflects a larger withdrawal of the US from global engagement. And that retreat has consequences. American stability and leadership added enormous value to global affairs. Take that away, and others will suffer—but it may also spur efforts to reconstruct international cooperation through alternative means.
Trump’s History Lessons Are More Political Theater Than Economic Strategy
How is trade policy being used in Trump’s second term to reinforce nationalist and anti-elite populist messaging, and what role do ‘chrono-political’ narratives—drawing on selective historical memory and future promises—play in sustaining public support for renewed protectionism?
Professor Kent Jones: We have a president who likes to use history for his own purposes. The more immediate history, of course, is that all of America’s current problems—including those Trump himself has created—are, according to him, really the fault of President Joe Biden. That’s one way he uses history: to convince people that during his first term, everything was a “golden age,” and then when Biden came along, everything fell apart. So, if there are problems now, don’t blame Trump—blame Biden.
Another interesting use of history—particularly for Americans who know their history—is Trump’s fascination with President William McKinley. Actually, not just President McKinley, but also Senator McKinley, a Republican from the 1890s who sponsored a major tariff bill. At that time, tariffs made up about half of US government revenue, since there was little in the way of income tax. Trump has used this historical reference to argue that we could eliminate income taxes altogether and rely on tariff revenue instead.
You may have seen news about Trump wanting to rename the tallest mountain in Alaska—Denali—back to Mount McKinley, because of this admiration. But historically, the McKinley Tariff was highly unpopular. After it passed, the Republicans lost many congressional seats in the next election because the public faced higher prices and increased industrial concentration. Trump doesn’t seem to think this historical lesson applies to him, but it’s already proving to be a similar liability.
So, we see a selective and manipulated use of history. The narrative is: “Look how great America was in the 1890s—look how we were growing, how proud people were to be Americans.” But in reality, that era had deep problems—racism, immigration tensions, and inequality—that tariffs didn’t solve. In fact, the introduction of a broader income tax in 1913 allowed the US to move toward a more liberal and successful trading regime. American economic growth since then has been strong—so why go back?
Trump continues to insist that tariffs are paid by foreigners, not Americans. He argues that this makes tariffs an ideal way to fund the US government—as if foreign countries are footing the bill. His advisors know this isn’t true, but you won’t hear them say so publicly.
In short, Trump is using history in a way that serves his populist message, but not very effectively. If he were a better student of history, he might find stronger justifications for his policies. As it stands, invoking the McKinley era and blaming “woke Democrats” for current issues doesn’t offer a coherent economic argument—especially when you consider that the US economy under Obama and Biden has actually performed quite well.
Trump’s China Policy Turns Trade into a Populist Proxy for National Decline
Photo: Shutterstock.
How does the Trump administration’s hardline stance toward China reflect a broader populist narrative of foreign threats and national decline? In the context of ongoing de–coupling efforts from China, how is this policy being used to mobilize anti-globalization sentiment and reinforce the administration’s appeal to its populist base?
Professor Kent Jones: It’s very interesting the way Trump seems to view China. On the one hand, he appears to admire President Xi as a strong, tough leader—something Trump seems to find admirable. At the same time, he insists that China has been “ripping us off” through its trade practices, largely because of the large volume of imports the US receives from China.
I think Trump has been surprised—and perhaps disappointed—by how assertive Xi has been in responding to US tariffs. Xi has made it clear he won’t back down. Trump would like to portray Xi as someone he can deal with—someone who respects him and will sit down to work out a deal. But if we look back at Trump’s first administration, we see how that played out.
The trade war Trump initiated in 2018, with escalating tariffs against China, did not, in fact, reduce the US trade deficit. By January 2020, Trump declared victory and announced a “Phase One” trade deal with China. This was essentially a countertrade agreement—China would commit to importing a specific value of US goods, and in return, the US would reduce tariffs. The goal was to balance bilateral trade flows.
But such a deal was never feasible. It would require a Soviet-style, government-managed trade system, completely incompatible with a market-based global trading regime. It violated WTO principles such as non-discrimination and the prohibition of quantitative restrictions. And ultimately, it didn’t work—COVID-19 disrupted global trade, and China didn’t meet its import commitments. Trump’s administration could blame COVID, but the agreement itself was flawed from the start.
Now, Trump claims that 75 countries are lining up to negotiate similar deals, and that he’ll finalize them within 90 days. Anyone with experience in trade negotiations knows that’s unrealistic. Bilateral trade deals are complex and time-consuming. My prediction is that we’ll see vague, formulaic agreements—pieces of paper promising balanced trade flows without any serious enforcement or economic logic behind them.
Trump may even try a version of this again with China. But the structural issues remain: we live in a world of complex technological interdependence, and the US cannot simply de-couple from China. Instead of trade wars, what we need is a return to multilateral cooperation. If the US worked with Europe, Canada, and other OECD countries, it could form a united front to pressure China into complying more fully with WTO rules.
China’s state-led economic model makes it difficult to enforce existing trade norms, but a coordinated multilateral effort could make progress. Unfortunately, the US—once the architect and guarantor of the global trading order—is now undermining it. That leadership vacuum is at the heart of the problem.
So to return to your original question: Trump’s framing of China as a threat fits squarely within his broader populist narrative of national decline and foreign exploitation. But his policies haven’t solved the trade imbalance—and now he’s trying to apply the same flawed logic to the entire world. He wants to control all trade through bilateral, Trump-approved formulas for balance, which are economically irrational and unworkable.
In the end, like many populist strategies, these deals may sound good in the abstract but will likely prove disappointing once implemented. The rhetoric may mobilize his base, but the economic outcomes could be far less favorable.
Globalization Is on Ice—But Far From Over
A metaphorical image depicting the US-China trade war, economic tensions and tariff disputes on imports and exports. Photo: Shutterstock.
And lastly, Professor Jones, in light of ongoing debates and speculation about the potential collapse or end of globalization, how do you assess the current trajectory of global economic integration, and what indicators do you consider most critical in evaluating whether globalization is truly in decline?
Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly globalization is being damaged by President Trump’s policies—there’s no doubt about that. He’s taking the largest economy in the world, the original architect of the WTO and the postwar trade order, and essentially reversing its role. The WTO is now portrayed as the enemy by Trump and his followers.
So yes, globalization has clearly suffered. However, one thing I’ve learned as an economist—particularly from my early training in Geneva—is the value of taking a long historical view of trade. Trade has always gone through waves. Periods of free trade have often been followed by periods of protectionism, and vice versa.
Take Britain’s repeal of the Corn Laws in the 19th century, which ushered in an era of freer trade and economic expansion built around the British Empire. The US came on board later. Then came the Great Depression, which triggered a new wave of protectionism. The post-WWII creation of the WTO system marked another liberalizing wave. Now, with the resurgence of economic nationalism and protectionism, we appear to be in another downward swing.
That said, globalization has always required flexibility. The decline of some industries must be managed so others can emerge. In the 1800s, this adjustment was relatively smooth. But the entry of China into the global economy in the 2000s created a massive shock—its capacity to produce across a wide range of sectors was something even the US struggled to adapt to quickly.
We also cannot ignore the role of technology. Are we really going to return to an economy of cobblers and factory floor workers in an age of robotics, AI, and complex supply chains? It seems unlikely. I think it all circles back to what Adam Smith said about the innate human tendency to “truck and barter.” Even before language, early humans were trading. We’ve always valued specialization and exchange—and I believe that instinct endures.
Suppressing globalization won’t eliminate that fundamental impulse. If the US abandons its leadership role, others will step in. We may see regional trade agreements emerge as partial substitutes for global ones. It’s not a perfect replacement, but it’s better than nothing.
Technological progress is also linked to globalization. If you halt global exchange, you risk slowing innovation. Still, I believe there’s opportunity. Many countries that once focused heavily on trade with the US will begin looking elsewhere. China may try to lead, but many are skeptical of that. Perhaps another leadership structure will emerge—or perhaps we simply wait until 2028, when some hope the US will again elect a president who values multilateralism and stable partnerships.
What Trump doesn’t seem to understand is that unpredictability, which he views as a strength, is actually an economic burden. It erodes trust and undermines investment. The global economy thrives on rules and stability—not arbitrary decisions.
So, to return to your question: Yes, globalization has been put on ice for now. But I don’t think it’s over. There’s still a strong drive—among individuals, firms, and governments—to rebuild trade networks. Even if US leadership is absent, globalization will find ways to adapt and re-emerge.
In this compelling interview with ECPS, Dr. Hakki Tas argues that repression—not legitimacy—has become the Erdogan regime’s default mode of rule. Highlighting the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, Dr. Taş contends that Turkey is moving further from competitive authoritarianism toward full authoritarian consolidation. As electoral legitimacy weakens, coercion fills the void, revealing a regime reliant on fear, control, and chrono-political narratives to survive. “Remaining in power,” Dr. Tas says, “is the only survival strategy.” This conversation explores the strategic logic behind repression, the shrinking political arena, and the uncertain future of ailing Turkish democracy.
In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Hakki Tas, Research Fellow at the German Institute for Global and Area Studies, offers a sobering assessment of Turkey’s democratic trajectory under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Dr. Tas argues that “coercion has become the Erdogan regime’s default tool of governance,” signaling a shift in strategy where repression, rather than consensus or legitimacy, undergirds the government’s hold on power. This growing reliance on coercive mechanisms reflects not only the regime’s authoritarian drift but also its deepening vulnerability in the face of economic instability and eroding public support.
In Dr. Tas’s view, the political elite in Turkey face a stark reality: “remaining in power is the only survival strategy.” With dwindling economic resources, declining electoral popularity, and limited institutional buffers, Erdogan and his allies find themselves increasingly dependent on repressive tactics to maintain control. The arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, widely seen as the most viable opposition figure, exemplifies this logic. For Dr. Tad, such moves do more than target individuals; they erode fundamental democratic principles by narrowing the space for political competition and undermining voter choice.
Indeed, Dr. Tas highlights the regime’s systematic efforts to degrade electoral competitiveness. While Turkey has retained the formal trappings of multiparty elections, the conditions required for genuine democratic choice—such as “electoral vulnerability,” “electoral availability,” and “decidability”—have been steadily dismantled. The elimination of high-profile opposition figures like Imamoglu not only tilts the playing field but also challenges the very notion of Turkey as a competitive authoritarian regime. As Dr. Tas succinctly puts it, “calling Turkey’s regime ‘competitive’ is increasingly difficult to justify.”
Beyond specific political maneuvers, Dr. Tas situates these developments within a broader authoritarian logic—one that employs what he calls a “chrono-political strategy” to frame every election as an existential battle for the nation’s soul. Through an intricate weaving of past grievances, present insecurities, and imagined futures, Erdogan casts challenges to his rule as threats to the entire Turkish polity. This blend of populist narrative-building, strategic repression, and institutional erosion has enabled the regime to survive despite mounting internal and external pressures.
This interview explores the implications of Imamoglu’s arrest, the fragility of Erdogan’s political toolkit, and the possible futures of ailing Turkish democracy. At stake is not only the fate of one politician or election, but the broader question of whether Turkey can still lay claim to competitive politics—or whether it has entered a new phase of authoritarian consolidation.
Dr. Hakki Tas, Research Fellow at the German Institute for Global and Area Studies.
Here is the transcription of the interview with Dr. Hakki Tas with some edits.
Calling Turkey’s Regime ‘Competitive’ Is Increasingly Difficult to Justify
How does the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu fit within the broader trajectory of democratic backsliding in Turkey, and does it signify a critical turning point toward full authoritarian consolidation, or does it remain within the bounds of competitive authoritarianism?
The competitiveness of the regime in Turkey has been in question not only today but throughout the last decade as well. While Turkish elections have long been marked by significant contentiousness, this indeed does not necessarily translate into genuine political competition. True competitiveness requires conditions such as electoral vulnerability (where incumbents can realistically be unseated), electoral availability (where voters are open to changing party preferences), and decidability (where parties offer distinct and clearly communicated platforms).
Nevertheless, by potentially eliminating the most prominent challenger from the electoral arena, the jailing of Imamoglu further undercuts each of these core democratic prerequisites. While Turkey has not yet crossed into fully authoritarian rule, actions like arresting leading opposition figures push the system closer to outright authoritarian consolidation, and the adjective “competitive” to describe the current regime becomes increasingly tenuous.
For Turkey’s Ruling Elite, Staying in Power Is the Only Survival Strategy
To what extent can Imamoglu’s arrest be interpreted as a reflection of Erdogan’s growing political insecurity in anticipation of the 2028 elections, rather than an expression of consolidated authoritarian control?
These two dimensions—growing political insecurity and authoritarian tendencies—often intersect, since remaining in power is the only survival strategy for the current political elite. The insecurity itself is clear: with economic resources depleted, Erdogan can no longer dispense patronage to his base as effectively, nor can he weave compelling narratives that resonate with voters and align with his domestic or foreign policy choices. Consequently, if he cannot win the minds and hearts of the masses, coercion becomes his default instrument. Of course, such reliance on repression highlights the fragility of the regime. Repression may not be the most effective tactic, but it probably is the only remaining path to maintain power.
In the light of Erdogan’s declining popularity and the ongoing economic crisis, to what degree can the regime continue to depend on electoral legitimacy, or is it likely to increasingly abandon the electoral route in favor of more authoritarian mechanisms?
Erdogan faces a fundamental conundrum when it comes to sustaining electoral legitimacy amidst dwindling popularity and deepening economic woes. Unlike many of his autocratic counterparts, he cannot rely on a rentier economy to placate key constituencies, nor can he fully count on a steadfast, loyal military to neutralize dissent. In this context, elections—no matter how constrained—have long served as a principal source of legitimacy. The semblance of competitiveness has permitted Erdogan to maintain at least a façade of democratic governance, preserving his rule without incurring the immediate costs of blatant authoritarianism.
Yet this tactic cuts both ways. Without holding elections, Erdogan risks forfeiting any claim to popular legitimacy, leaving him reliant on repressive mechanisms that are by no means guaranteed to remain loyal. At the same time, the very act of putting his government to an electoral test brings the danger that genuine opposition could mobilize sufficiently to threaten his grip on power.
When Parties Fail, the Streets Speak
Thousands gathered in Istanbul on March 23, 2025, to protest the arrest of Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu. Photo: Sedat Gulec.
How might a potential state-led intervention in the CHP—modeled after kayyum-style trusteeship—reshape the Turkish party system and transform the landscape of opposition politics?
This would only underscore the fact that the traditional institutional mechanisms of political mediation have long been obsolete in Turkey and could further legitimize street-level mobilization. Dismantling the CHP’s autonomy would not only deepen the regime’s authoritarian tilt but also galvanize citizens to challenge the government outside the confines of a party framework, amplifying the prominence of direct action in shaping Turkey’s political future.
Given Imamoglu’s capacity to mobilize broad, cross-ideological support, what are the strategic implications of his removal for the Turkish opposition’s ability to mount a viable electoral challenge?
Imamoglu is one of the Turkish opposition’s most versatile and unifying figures, whose cross-ideological appeal had begun to transcend traditional fault lines; however, this broad support did not necessarily constitute a robust coalition committed to full democracy. Moreover, the regime has strategically sought to keep the political and ideological fissures among the opposition intact—most notably by attempting to reconcile with Kurdish political actors. Nonetheless, Imamoglu’s ability to attract diverse groups demonstrated a tangible path toward a more inclusive opposition discourse, one that could, at least temporarily, bridge political cleavages around a common goal. The opposition leaders have performed well so far.
From Twin Enemies to Universal Threats
How does the post-2016 securitization of political opposition compare to earlier state narratives targeting the Gulen movement, and in what ways is this logic now being extended to opposition figures such as Imamoglu?
The post-coup securitization narrative has intensified and broadened the regime’s ability to label virtually any dissent as a threat to national security, building on earlier campaigns against the Gulen movement and Kurdish groups. Historically, it was relatively straightforward to demonize these constituencies by invoking entrenched suspicions of political Islam and Kurdish nationalism—“twin enemies” in the public imagination.
Compared to its anti-Gulen campaign, the government has deployed similar tactics—such as dehumanizing language, terrorism accusations, and show trials—; extending such rhetoric to figures like Imamoglu, however, proves more challenging, given his secular and broadly appealing profile. The scope of securitization continues to expand, as seen in the Gezi trials, and likely will intensify further, reinforcing polarization, when the support of the majority is not viable.
In what ways is the Erdogan regime deploying chrono-political narratives—fusing past, present, and future—to legitimize authoritarian measures against the opposition in the lead-up to the 2028 elections?
Currently, Erdogan lacks a popular grand narrative to frame recent developments. Instead, he taps into center-right and conservative sentiments with rhetoric about “street terrorism.” Meanwhile, pro-government media and figures recirculate default anti-Kemalist tropes, constantly reminding the AKP base of the 1997 “postmodern coup” and emphasizing the AKP’s role as the champion of an “Anatolian Revolution” against the vestiges of “Old Turkey” represented by the CHP. By melding past grievances with current insecurities, this chrono-political framing casts state crackdowns as the preservation of a people’s revolution rather than an assault on democratic norms, thereby embedding present events in a broader narrative of conflict between a secular Kemalist elite and Muslim Anatolian people.
In a Post-Truth Arena, Victimhood Becomes the Most Potent Political Weapon
What does the political discourse surrounding Imamoglu’s arrest reveal about Turkey’s ongoing shift toward post-truth politics, in which narrative construction increasingly overrides evidence-based governance?
The discourse surrounding Imamoglu’s arrest illustrates Turkey’s deepening post-truth environment, in which the regime’s narratives often eclipse factual evidence through a deluge of fake news, half-truths, and conspiracy theories. Despite its formidable control over media outlets and intensified censorship of opposition voices, the government’s ability to craft a cohesive, persuasive message appears weaker compared to earlier high-stakes moments like the 2013 Gezi Protests or the aftermath of the 2016 coup attempt. This relative disarray in the official narrative highlights the regime’s further reliance on post-truth tactics to obfuscate the truth.
How does Erdogan’s portrayal of Imamoglu align with populist strategies that frame challengers as enemies of “the people,” and how does this dynamic intersect with Imamoglu’s own populist appeal?
Erdogan’s populist messaging has long relied on a Manichean division that pits “the people” against an allegedly subversive elite. Initially aimed at the Kemalist establishment during the 2000s, this rhetoric evolved to target foreign “dark forces” and domestic opponents, situating any threat to the AKP’s dominance within a grand narrative of external conspiracies seeking to weaken Turkey. In presenting Imamoglu as insolent and dismissive of the popularly elected government, Erdogan reinforces this populist framework, albeit in a manner that appears increasingly strained. The irony lies in removing a democratically elected mayor through what many view as politically motivated charges while simultaneously accusing him of undermining democracy—a strategy meant to maintain Erdogan’s self-image as the authentic representative of the public’s will.
Imamoglu, however, employs a form of counter-populism by depicting Erdogan’s regime as the entrenched new establishment and urging disparate groups marginalized under the AKP’s rule to unite. In this sense, he challenges Erdogan on his own turf, effectively turning the populist dichotomy back against the incumbent. Moreover, the very act of arresting Imamoglu grants him the victimhood status that has historically served Erdogan well, endowing Imamoglu with the same potent political currency of victimhood and moral high ground.
How Erdogan Weaponizes Crisis to Sustain Power
Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Photo: Shutterstock.
To what extent is anti-Western rhetoric being utilized to domestically legitimize the arrest of Imamoglu, and how does this tactic align with the AKP’s broader strategy of politicizing foreign policy?
Despite the AKP’s reliance on anti-Western rhetoric to legitimize controversial domestic and foreign policy moves throughout the 2010s, Erdogan has been more circumspect in explicitly invoking such themes to rationalize Imamoglu’s arrest. Some pro-government outlets have circulated conspiracy theories linking Imamoglu to foreign plots; however, Erdogan currently appears to prioritize pragmatic relations with both the European Union and the United States. This shift partly stems from renewed Western interest in Turkey’s security partnership against Russia, as well as the transactional dynamic that characterized Erdogan’s rapport with US President Donald Trump. In other words, while anti-Western discourse remains a familiar tool in the regime’s arsenal, Erdogan has downplayed it in favor of current diplomatic gains and economic considerations.
Nevertheless, the broader AKP strategy of politicizing foreign policy remains evident in the potential use of external conflicts as a diversionary tactic. Historically, Erdogan has displayed a capacity to refocus domestic anxieties onto external threats, thereby consolidating his base. If Imamoglu’s arrest triggers wider unrest, the regime may revert to stoking regional tensions and rally the public under a unifying, antagonistic narrative. Given the volatile regional landscape—replete with ongoing conflicts—there is ample opportunity to leverage foreign policy crises to overshadow or justify heavy-handed measures at home.
Does Imamoglu’s arrest represent a calculated moment within Erdogan’s chrono-political strategy to frame the 2028 election as an existential national struggle, and how does this timing contribute to the construction of a long-term authoritarian myth?
Erdogan’s repeated depiction of every electoral contest—with remarkable examples such as the December 2015 general elections and the 2017 constitutional referendum—as an existential choice for the nation epitomizes a populist politics of time. In this framework, the present becomes a decisive juncture between a promised utopia of national triumph and an apocalyptic scenario of total annihilation, all hinging on the leader’s continued rule. Imamoglu’s arrest, then, can be seen as another attempt to situate the 2028 election within this broader chrono-political strategy. Erdogan is undoubtedly a master of chrono-populism, a skill that has helped him become one of the longest-serving populist leaders in world history.
However, sustaining perpetual vigilance among the public is costly. If Erdogan cannot deliver tangible rewards beyond the mere avoidance of catastrophe, voter fatigue over these endless existential crises may erode the very support he seeks to reinforce. The timing of Imamoglu’s arrest, therefore, not only reflects a calculated bid to sustain a grand authoritarian myth but also risks overextending the populist device of crisis mobilization—leaving the regime vulnerable to disillusionment from an electorate that grows weary of ever-present emergency narratives.
In a comprehensive interview with ECPS, Professor Jenny White calls the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu “absolutely… a sign of insecurity”—not strength. Professor White warns that this preemptive strike ahead of the 2028 elections reflects “regime fragility,” not confidence, adding: “If this stands… voting ceases to have any real meaning.” Drawing on her concept of “spindle autocracy,” she explains how personal loyalty has overtaken institutional merit, creating a brittle, fear-driven system. With Erdogan’s popularity fading and international pressure weakened, Professor White argues, “This is a line that has now been crossed”—one with dangerous consequences for Turkey’s democratic future.
In a wide-ranging and incisive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Jenny White—renowned anthropologist and scholar of Turkish politics at Stockholm University—explores the deeper implications of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu’s arrest and what it reveals about the current phase of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s authoritarianism. “Oh, absolutely—it’s a sign of insecurity,” Professor White declares. “And that makes it all the more dangerous, because this is a line that has now been crossed.”
This stark assessment lies at the heart of Professor White’s reflections on how Erdogan has evolved from a populist reformer to an embattled strongman. The arrest of Imamoglu—widely seen as the opposition’s most viable presidential contender in 2028—is not an act of confidence, but of regime fragility. “If this stands… and especially if the party itself is taken over, then voting ceases to have any real meaning,” she warns.
Professor White locates this shift within a broader trajectory of democratic erosion in Turkey. Drawing from her concept of spindle autocracy, she describes a system where loyalty to the leader has eclipsed merit and institutional integrity. “You cannot disagree. If you disagree, you are a traitor,” she says, noting that once individuals fall out of favor, they are discarded—spun out like raw wool from a political spindle.
Far from being the first rupture, Imamoglu’s arrest is a culmination of earlier moves: the post-Gezi crackdown, the co-optation of the judiciary, and the mass purges following the 2016 coup attempt. “At this point, there are really no institutions left around Erdogan that have competence, aside from loyalty to him,” Professor White states.
The sense of insecurity extends beyond domestic calculations. Professor White suggests that global shifts, including the return of Donald Trump, have reinforced Erdogan’s sense of impunity. “Erdogan has nothing to fear from US censure… I’m quite sure Trump would support that kind of move,” she notes. The European Union, too, finds itself in a bind—caught between supporting human rights and preserving strategic ties with Turkey.
Despite Erdogan’s waning popularity, the fear of retaliation—and the AKP’s entrenchment in every layer of society—limits open dissent. As Professor White concludes, “You can’t forget that Erdogan still has a lot of people willing to vote for him—not necessarily because they’re passionately in love with him, but because they’re afraid of what happens if he’s gone.”
This interview sheds urgent light on the authoritarian logic of fear—and what happens when that fear governs.
In this timely and incisive interview, Professor Philippe Marlière (UCL) discusses Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the limits of far-right populism, and the resilience of democratic institutions in France. While Le Pen’s narrative frames her disqualification as a “denial of democracy,” Professor Marlière warns against buying into this rhetoric. “Politicians are not above the law,” he asserts, adding, “The far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” A must-read on the legal, political, and symbolic stakes of France’s 2027 presidential race.
In a wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Philippe Marlière of University College London offers a trenchant analysis of Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the broader rise of the far right in France and Europe, and the fragile boundaries between democratic politics and authoritarian temptation. Known for his work on French and European politics, Professor Marlière opens the conversation by sharply distinguishing between fascism and the far-right populism embodied by Le Pen’s Rassemblement National (RN). “I would describe Marine Le Pen’s National Rally as a far-right party,” he says, stressing that although it is “reactionary” and “nativist,” it is “not fascist” in the classical sense, since it operates within existing democratic institutions.
The interview takes on greater urgency in the wake of Le Pen’s conviction on corruption charges and her disqualification from running in the 2027 presidential election. According to Professor Marlière, the ruling represents a “major blow” not only to Le Pen personally—who was widely seen as a leading contender—but to the party’s claim of moral superiority over the political establishment. “The conviction is so clear-cut,” he notes, “and her defense so weak,” that overturning the verdict on appeal seems unlikely.
At the heart of the conversation is the far right’s delicate balancing act between anti-establishment rhetoric and the imperative to appear legitimate within democratic norms. Marlière cautions that while Le Pen and her allies may frame the ruling as “a denial of democracy,” they have not dared to attack the judiciary wholesale, because “if she does, she risks being seen as undermining French justice and being pushed back to the political fringe.”
This fragility, he argues, reveals the limits of populist authoritarianism in France. “In a democracy, when you are a politician, you must respect the decisions of the judiciary,” he insists, citing Montesquieu’s separation of powers. And that is why, he concludes, “the far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” Voters may be willing to punish the mainstream, but they are not prepared to dismantle liberal democratic institutions in the process.
In a comprehensive interview with ECPS, Professor Jenny White calls the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu “absolutely… a sign of insecurity”—not strength. Professor White warns that this preemptive strike ahead of the 2028 elections reflects “regime fragility,” not confidence, adding: “If this stands… voting ceases to have any real meaning.” Drawing on her concept of “spindle autocracy,” she explains how personal loyalty has overtaken institutional merit, creating a brittle, fear-driven system. With Erdogan’s popularity fading and international pressure weakened, Professor White argues, “This is a line that has now been crossed”—one with dangerous consequences for Turkey’s democratic future.
In a wide-ranging and incisive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Jenny White—renowned anthropologist and scholar of Turkish politics at Stockholm University—explores the deeper implications of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu’s arrest and what it reveals about the current phase of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s authoritarianism. “Oh, absolutely—it’s a sign of insecurity,” Professor White declares. “And that makes it all the more dangerous, because this is a line that has now been crossed.”
This stark assessment lies at the heart of Professor White’s reflections on how Erdogan has evolved from a populist reformer to an embattled strongman. The arrest of Imamoglu—widely seen as the opposition’s most viable presidential contender in 2028—is not an act of confidence, but of regime fragility. “If this stands… and especially if the party itself is taken over, then voting ceases to have any real meaning,” she warns.
Professor White locates this shift within a broader trajectory of democratic erosion in Turkey. Drawing from her concept of spindle autocracy, she describes a system where loyalty to the leader has eclipsed merit and institutional integrity. “You cannot disagree. If you disagree, you are a traitor,” she says, noting that once individuals fall out of favor, they are discarded—spun out like raw wool from a political spindle.
Far from being the first rupture, Imamoglu’s arrest is a culmination of earlier moves: the post-Gezi crackdown, the co-optation of the judiciary, and the mass purges following the 2016 coup attempt. “At this point, there are really no institutions left around Erdogan that have competence, aside from loyalty to him,” Professor White states.
The sense of insecurity extends beyond domestic calculations. Professor White suggests that global shifts, including the return of Donald Trump, have reinforced Erdogan’s sense of impunity. “Erdogan has nothing to fear from US censure… I’m quite sure Trump would support that kind of move,” she notes. The European Union, too, finds itself in a bind—caught between supporting human rights and preserving strategic ties with Turkey.
Despite Erdogan’s waning popularity, the fear of retaliation—and the AKP’s entrenchment in every layer of society—limits open dissent. As Professor White concludes, “You can’t forget that Erdogan still has a lot of people willing to vote for him—not necessarily because they’re passionately in love with him, but because they’re afraid of what happens if he’s gone.”
This interview sheds urgent light on the authoritarian logic of fear—and what happens when that fear governs.
Professor Jenny White, renowned anthropologist and scholar of Turkish politics at Stockholm University.
Here is the transcription of the interview with Professor Jenny White with some edits.
Turkey Is a Roller Coaster—Who’s on Top and Who’s Not Constantly Shifts
Professor White, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In your articles, you describe Turkish political life as a “horizontal topography of action” rather than a vertical model of oppression and resistance. How does this framework help us better understand Erdogan’s consolidation of power post-2016 coup attempt?
Professor Jenny White: Well, I think of politics both in micro terms and over the long term. So, if you think of politics as just what’s happening now, you can try to clarify who’s on top and who’s on the bottom. But if you look at it even in just a slightly longer time frame, you see that the constituents of “Up” and the constituents of “Down” don’t stay the same. They, especially in a place like Turkey, are almost like a roller coaster. For a long time in the 20th century, the secular Kemalists were on top, and they were able to, or they tried to, determine how the rest of the population should live according to their standards. A lot of people went along with that because they also agreed with it. Those who didn’t were, you know, the religious, the peasants, the ones who lived in Turkey and tried to do well for themselves but often found that being religious or from the countryside was a drawback when it came to moving ahead. At some point, I think it was in the 1960s, you weren’t allowed to wear a headscarf in a civil service job or even to visit someone in a state hospital. Eventually, you weren’t allowed to wear a headscarf to go to university.
For many people who had been left out of the nation’s vision of progress, that was the ultimate insult. Not only were they kept down because they were peasants or migrants to the city, but they were also not allowed to practice their religion if they wanted to participate in modern society. There was this profound sense of being disenfranchised, being oppressed by the elites who, at the time, were trying to raise everyone up. So, depending on where you’re looking from, it’s determined by the observer. What’s the position of the observer in making the determination of who is oppressed or who is the oppressor? Then, of course, in the 1980s, the Islamist party started winning local elections and then national elections, representing these disenfranchised people. They came to power, and now we have the AKP. The AKP, in turn, decided to impose on the population their view of how one should live. It’s a different part of the population now.
Again, depending on who the observer is, you could either feel oppressed or say that those are the oppressors. It’s a roller coaster, with who’s on top and who’s not. Then, if you take it down another level, you look at people who are otherwise the same, like the followers of Fethullah Gulen and the members of the AKP. Before that, the Refah Party (RP) consisted of lower-middle-class merchants—not really merchants, but more like business people—and later on, they became wealthy. These were the people who had managed to step up in the new 1980s economy. They felt empowered, believing they were now on top. The Fethullah Gulen followers were heavily involved in all of this. They worked together with the government, had their own version of what they were doing, but in many ways, culturally and religiously, in terms of piety, they were indistinguishable from the AKP followers. So, you would think they wouldn’t be differentiated, but they fell afoul of the AKP, became the “bottom,” were hounded out of existence, and declared terrorists.
The scary thing for a lot of people was that you couldn’t actually know who was in and who was out, who was up and who was down. Your neighbor wore a headscarf, and you wore a headscarf. You were culturally identical and had known each other for years. How do you know who is on the up and who is on the down? There was also a culture of snitching. If you didn’t like your mother-in-law, you could snitch and claim she was a Gulenist, and then watch her fall. This is not the usual up-and-down scenario, which stems from a liberal leftist view that the world is divided into people who are oppressed—the poor, the minorities—and then the oppressors. In reality, the oppressed themselves can oppress others. It’s much more complicated than that.
There Are No Institutions Left—Only Loyalty
In your analysis of “spindle autocracy,” you argue that personal loyalty to a leader has replaced institutional merit. How has this dynamic reshaped Turkey’s political institutions and public trust in them since the executive presidency was introduced?
Professor Jenny White: Thank you. That’s a good question. But all I can think of right now is the US. This is so applicable. You can see the spindle forming, and just the idea of spindle autocracy, or spindle politics, as I ended up calling it, is that you move from being a country where people look at the politicians, and they may like or dislike the politician, but they look at the policies. “I like the policies of this politician, too. I like this politician.” To “I love this politician because this is an incredible outpouring of emotion, a passionate emotion that’s much more than simply liking your politician.” And I don’t really care what his policies are. I go with them because they are things that he wants us to do.
That’s an enormous difference, and the implications of that are also enormous. Because if you have a political leader who is a spindle autocrat, surrounding himself with people who are loyal as the first criterion, whether or not they are competent shouldn’t be beside the point, but often is. In the Kemalist era, there has always been a kind of big-man authoritarianism in Turkey, starting with Ataturk—the love of the leader. Atatürk is the beloved leader throughout, but whenever individuals like Menderes, Demirel, and Ozal, for example, came along, there was this attachment to particular leaders, including leftist leaders who are now icons.
So, I’m not saying this is something new with the AKP. These are old habits of power, big-man autocracy, and authoritarianism. All of this is wrapped up in a kind of patriarchy: “the devlet baba,” the state as your father, which is now personalized as Erdogan, your father figure. Intolerance of difference—people don’t like things that are different, or people who are different—has always been present in Turkey. But what is different now is the character of this central leader, right?
The styling. Another thing that’s been around for a long time is the styling, where the leader presents himself as both a hero and a victim—the heroic victim who is there to take care of you like a father. Erdogan embodies all of this, as did the leaders before him. But the difference now is that he has sort of forgotten the part where he takes care of the family. It’s almost as if remaining the leader has become a purpose in itself. All the pomp and circumstance surrounding the presidency now just feed resources and attention to the central figure. There are really no institutions left around Erdogan that have competence, aside from loyalty to him.
Obviously, not everyone is incompetent, but Erdogan has removed anyone he deemed disloyal. This started happening in the late 2000s. At one point, the Gulen movement, which had significant influence within the police, went after some of Erdogan’s family members for corruption and they wanted to arrest the government’s emissary who was traveling to Europe to negotiate a peace deal with the PKK. Erdogan didn’t like that, which caused a clash within the government.These individuals were part of government institutions, and the Gulen movement was singled out. Erdogan’s government then targeted the Gulen movement, leading to what became almost a feud—back and forth—culminating in the 2016 failed coup attempt. These were the people who had surrounded Erdogan at the beginning, and they moved down on the roller coaster, while the people who moved in were not necessarily known for their competence.
One of the major consequences of a system like this is that nobody can disagree with the leader. In a normal political situation, even in an authoritarian context, you have advisors, right? They can discuss things with you and disagree. But in this case, because the relationships are all personal—based on loyalty and passionate devotion to the leader—you cannot disagree. If you disagree, you are a traitor. “Hain,” or traitor, is a term often thrown around in Turkey, and even though it’s used frequently, it’s always taken very seriously. If you are labeled a traitor in the newspapers, you could be arrested. It’s not something said lightly, but traitors emerge every minute, because people will disagree with what the leader is doing, and then they go down on the roller coaster.
So, it’s a very unstable system, even though it looks like it should be stable because of the strongman structure. But if you look closer at the micro level, there are always people moving in and out. If you think of the spindle, for those who don’t know, a spindle is a stick on a string that twirls, and you take raw wool and spin it until it turns into yarn that you can use to knit a sweater. Think of the raw wool coming from the sheep as the recruits who get involved around the leader, and as they do, they network and become obedient. They get “cooked in,” and then, as inevitable breakups happen, they split off. Even though it looks stable—with this leader who is always there—and if you look back in time, you’ll see many spindles, names of leaders, but you don’t see what was happening around the spindle, the people moving in and out.
Today It’s Gulenists, Tomorrow Someone Else
On 20 July 2016, Turkey’s Islamist-populist President Recep Tayyip Erdogan declared a state of emergency, enabling him and the AKP cabinet to bypass parliament and rule by decree. The crackdown on possible coup plotters has since been turned into an all-out witch-hunt not only against alleged Gulen sympathizers but also leftists, Kurds and anyone critical of the government.
You note that Erdogan’s regime revived the “threat paradigm” once used by Kemalists, but with updated targets like the Gulen movement. How do these manufactured inside/outside enemies influence popular support and the regime’s legitimacy?
Professor Jenny White: I think it’s something that is deeply embedded in the Turkish educational system. Children learn from a very early age that there are enemies. In the Kemalist days, that was quite overwhelming, and the enemies—there’s a whole list of them—were foreigners, the inside enemies. These were the non-Muslim minorities who, because they’re not Muslim, can’t possibly be loyal to the Turkish state and are probably working together with non-Muslim or Christian outsiders to undermine Turkey, as they had done in World War I. Some people call it the Sèvres syndrome.
So this is a serious issue that has affected the population, partly through the educational system but also through the media. It’s always present—it’s in everything, you know, even the soap operas. Even the Ottoman-era soap operas contain this underlying distrust of non-Muslim foreigners, especially Christians.
But again, on a micro level, it takes different forms, right? I’m just thinking of an example. One of the biggest threats to Turkish national unity in the 1980s and early 1990s, according to the Turkish military, was missionaries—Christian missionaries. There were almost no missionaries in Turkey. Why would this even be a thing, let alone one of the biggest threats to national unity?
It’s because it’s not really about the missionaries per se, even though some of them were actually killed or attacked by people. They were a symbol of a Christian West that is believed to be out to destroy Turkey. That’s what people believe. And you could be Jewish, you could be gay, you could be any one of the many categories of “other”—and still be lumped in. Or Armenian, right? So those are all kinds of insults when used in this way—as someone who is out to get Turkey. And they’re interchangeable.
So it’s not the particular people or the particular category that’s a threat. It’s the fact that there is this threat—it’s existential—and the category that belongs to the threat is constantly fungible. So you don’t ever hear about missionaries anymore. It’s as if that never happened, even though it was a serious thing for many years.
Now you hear about Syrians or the Gulenists—another new threat category. They’re considered an even greater threat because they are the enemy within: they are also Muslim and look just like you. So it’s a way to polarize the population. And in polarizing the population and the other political parties—because everyone feels like they have to take a stand on these issues—for many years, the CHP, the main opposition party, was in step with everyone else in demonizing both the external and internal enemies.
Well, they’ve moved away from that. Okay. But they still were—then they got on the bandwagon that everyone else was on, saying negative things about the Syrian refugees or the Kurds. Now there’s an attempt by the AKP to reach out to the Kurds in a way that I’m not sure is believable, because nothing has been given to the Kurds in return for Ocalan’s speech—or request—that the PKK lay down its arms.
But what this does is split the CHP. It also splits the Kurdish party, the DEM Party. It’s like—are they going to support the CHP candidate for president, or are they going to sit it out and see whether they can get anything in return from the AKP for what Ocalan said?
So it’s not really a matter of fearing; it’s a matter of using fear to create division. And division is always useful in politics.
It’s Competitive—Unless There’s No More Competition
How would you characterize the current political regime in Turkey following the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu? Has the country now fully crossed the threshold into competitive authoritarianism—or something more consolidated?
Professor Jenny White: I think Turkey has been in a state of competitive authoritarianism for a long time now. Competitive authoritarianism means you have elections that are contested—parties like the CHP compete, other parties compete—but it’s not a level playing field.
Ninety percent of the media in Turkey is owned by pro-government businesses. So, if there’s an election, the CHP might—if they’re lucky—get a couple of minutes on TV, whereas the rest is all AKP, all the time. They’re not even allowed to put up posters. So, while technically competitive, the system is heavily skewed.
But it’s still “competitive” in the sense that you could, against all odds—very long odds—still win, as Imamoglu did. And then, of course, we know—was it in 2018? I’m bad with dates—but in the local election Imamoglu won, Erdoğan didn’t like the result, so he had it rerun. And then Imamoglu won again, with an even greater number of votes.
So, it is possible. But if you now arrest Imamoglu—and there’s been talk of appointing a kayyum, or the government effectively taking over the CHP, replacing its leadership with government-appointed trustees—then there’s no more competition.
Right? That’s it. It’s a competitive authoritarian regime—unless there’s no more competition.
Erdogan Will Do Whatever It Takes to Stay in Power
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has transitioned from being a model of democratic political Islam to an Islamist populist autocrat. Photo: Mustafa Kirazli.
Erdogan’s authoritarian turn has evolved in phases over the past two decades. What would you say distinguishes this current phase from earlier moments of democratic erosion, such as post-Gezi or post-2016?
Professor Jenny White: You know, I was doing research in Turkey at the time the AKP was elected, and I had already done a lot of work with the previous parties. But when the AKP first came to power, it was a completely different scenario.
There was a lot of talk about what kind of Islam they represented. It was framed as a personalized Islam—practical and pragmatic. The message was: we’re pious Muslims at home, but we make decisions in office based on practical concerns, not Islamic ethics. They emphasized that while their personal ethics might inform their conduct, policy decisions would not be based on religious doctrine.
That was the beginning. And Erdogan also reached out to non-Muslim minorities. There was a sense of progression, a feeling that genuinely heartened people—that finally, we had something different, a new way of doing politics.
It felt like, maybe for once, whoever was at the top wouldn’t force everyone to conform to their lifestyle or their values. That perhaps, finally, there could be some kind of pluralism.
But it didn’t last very long. The first major turning point came with the attempt by the police to arrest people in Erdogan’s close circle on corruption charges. That was a crucial moment—because his response was to essentially co-opt the judicial system. He transferred judges to remote parts of the country where they would be unable to act effectively. He fired prosecutors and lawyers, and replaced them—if I remember correctly, around 5,000 new lawyers were brought in. These were individuals who were, in a sense, in his pocket—closely aligned with him, loyal to the system he was building. They were, as it were, attached to the spindle—being drawn in and reshaped to fit a new judicial order.
So now, you don’t really have a free judicial system, as we see time and again. The same pattern occurred with people accused of being part of “FETO,” the Gulen movement. Once the movement was designated a terrorist organization, many individuals—some with no real connection to Gulen—were swept up in the crackdown.
They went through the process regardless, often without due process. Their passports were confiscated; they became social pariahs. People didn’t want to associate with them—even their own families distanced themselves out of fear of being implicated.
Many lost their businesses, which were taken over by the state. They lost access to social security. They became, in effect, non-people—despite the absence of any fair or reliable judicial process to prove wrongdoing.
Right? So then it just continued down that path. And I think the shift was driven largely by a reaction—a fear on Erdogan’s part that he was going to be overthrown.
If you remember, there was also Tahrir Square and other uprisings happening across the region. So when Gezi Protests happened, he interpreted it as part of the same wave of dissent. And then, of course, in 2016, there was an actual coup attempt.
I think all of this stems from a deep fear of falling—from a fear of being deposed. And so, he’s been willing to do whatever it takes to maintain power. As long as he could keep getting elected—which he did, because he remained quite popular—it wasn’t really a problem.
But now, he’s not so popular—largely because the economy has been in terrible shape for many years, due in part to his own brand of voodoo economics. Of course, some people have become very wealthy under this system, but the majority of Turks—regardless of background—are now at the bottom of the roller coaster.
Even if they haven’t been arrested, many are just barely managing to get by. Right? So I think his popularity has declined to such an extent that he knows if he were to go up against a candidate like Imamoglu, he would lose.
Voting Ceases to Have Any Real Meaning
Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu at the Gazi Race award ceremony at Veliefendi Racecourse in Istanbul, Turkey, on June 30, 2024. Photo: Evren Kalinbacak.
Many observers see the arrest of Imamoglu as a ‘preemptive strike’ against opposition in the lead-up to the 2028 elections. Do you see this as a sign of regime insecurity or confidence?
Professor Jenny White: Oh, absolutely—it’s a sign of insecurity. And that makes it all the more dangerous, because this is a line that has now been crossed. If this stands—if Imamoglu, who is the CHP’s candidate (and clearly targeted for that reason), and who would have won or likely will win an election—is arrested and removed from politics, and especially if the party itself is taken over, then voting ceases to have any real meaning.
From the beginning, Erdogan has taken great pride in being the voice of the people. “I am the voice of the people.” He’s long been proud of his popular support—“People love me.”
And again, thinking of the US as a parallel, the size of the crowds matters. The optics of mass support matter. So the fact that he can no longer rely on that is telling. Most importantly, it shows that he knows he can no longer rely on that. There’s no bringing the people back unless something dramatic happens—like an economic miracle.
So the other option is simply not to hold an election. If you can’t win it, don’t have one. But that would be a monumental step for Turkey. It might not seem so dramatic in countries without a strong tradition of democratic elections, but Turkey is different. For years, I’ve observed how proud Turks are of their elections—of having the ability to elect or remove their leaders. It means a great deal to them. It’s not something they could easily give up, and I think that pride is being reflected in the streets right now.
That said, it’s mostly young people who are out there—many others are not. And that’s because young people have nothing to lose. They truly have nothing. They see no future for themselves under this government, under a regime where, unless you know someone in the ruling party, it’s nearly impossible to secure a decent job—even with a good education.
Surveys show that around 50% of young Turks want to leave the country. This was from a couple of years ago, and I remember one survey that even looked at party affiliation—it turned out that many of those young people were AKP-affiliated. So even AKP youth want to leave, because the prospects are so bleak. Put simply: they have nothing to lose.
Their parents, on the other hand, have a lot to lose. Over the past 20 years, the AKP has embedded itself so deeply into the Turkish economy and society that many people’s livelihoods now depend on being affiliated with or supportive of the party.
Whether you’re working as a civil servant or one of the women hired to rake grass—as part of a charity-style initiative distributed by the municipality to earn a bit of money—the AKP is present at every level of interaction between the state and the citizen.
They have also co-opted much of civil society. So the fear people feel is quite realistic—if the AKP falls, if Erdogan loses the election and the CHP comes to power, what will happen to me? Will I still have a job? Will they do what everyone else has done—replace the old people with their own?
For many—especially the poor, who are just barely getting by—it’s an enormous risk. Right? So I think you can’t forget that Erdogan still has a lot of people following him or people willing to vote for him, but not necessarily because they’re passionately in love with him.
The Sense of Impunity Has Emboldened Authoritarians
And lastly, Professor White, how might the return of Donald Trump to the US presidency influence Erdogan’s authoritarian behavior? Would it embolden similar tactics and reduce external democratic pressure on Turkey?
Professor Jenny White: I think it already has. Apparently—though it wasn’t officially confirmed—Erdogan and Trump had a phone call just a few days before the arrest of Imamoglu. I’m almost certain Trump said something like, “Oh yeah, go ahead”—no problem. Why would he object?
This sense of impunity has emboldened authoritarians around the world. Erdogan has nothing to fear from US censure—no expectation that Washington will hold him accountable for his human rights record or for arresting political opponents. In fact, I’m quite sure Trump would support that kind of move.
The European Union is in a different situation. But it’s also connected to Trump—because now that he’s pulling back from the US’s commitments to European defense and traditional economic relations, Europe has to reassess its strategic alliances. It doesn’t have to, but I think it would be smart for Europe to recognize how important Turkey is—not only for European defense and NATO, but perhaps in other ways as well.
If the US is no longer a reliable partner, Europe needs to look elsewhere and build its own strong networks. And Turkey will always be a key player in any such network.
So Europe finds itself in a difficult position. Even though it genuinely cares about human rights, and about Imamoglu—who, for many, represents a liberal democratic future—they’re not in a position to speak out forcefully, because they need Turkey.
And Turkey also holds a very strong position in Syria right now. So, if Erdogan is going to take this kind of action, this is a strategic moment to do it.
In this timely and incisive interview, Professor Philippe Marlière (UCL) discusses Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the limits of far-right populism, and the resilience of democratic institutions in France. While Le Pen’s narrative frames her disqualification as a “denial of democracy,” Professor Marlière warns against buying into this rhetoric. “Politicians are not above the law,” he asserts, adding, “The far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” A must-read on the legal, political, and symbolic stakes of France’s 2027 presidential race.
In a wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Philippe Marlière of University College London offers a trenchant analysis of Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the broader rise of the far right in France and Europe, and the fragile boundaries between democratic politics and authoritarian temptation. Known for his work on French and European politics, Professor Marlière opens the conversation by sharply distinguishing between fascism and the far-right populism embodied by Le Pen’s Rassemblement National (RN). “I would describe Marine Le Pen’s National Rally as a far-right party,” he says, stressing that although it is “reactionary” and “nativist,” it is “not fascist” in the classical sense, since it operates within existing democratic institutions.
The interview takes on greater urgency in the wake of Le Pen’s conviction on corruption charges and her disqualification from running in the 2027 presidential election. According to Professor Marlière, the ruling represents a “major blow” not only to Le Pen personally—who was widely seen as a leading contender—but to the party’s claim of moral superiority over the political establishment. “The conviction is so clear-cut,” he notes, “and her defense so weak,” that overturning the verdict on appeal seems unlikely.
At the heart of the conversation is the far right’s delicate balancing act between anti-establishment rhetoric and the imperative to appear legitimate within democratic norms. Marlière cautions that while Le Pen and her allies may frame the ruling as “a denial of democracy,” they have not dared to attack the judiciary wholesale, because “if she does, she risks being seen as undermining French justice and being pushed back to the political fringe.”
This fragility, he argues, reveals the limits of populist authoritarianism in France. “In a democracy, when you are a politician, you must respect the decisions of the judiciary,” he insists, citing Montesquieu’s separation of powers. And that is why, he concludes, “the far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” Voters may be willing to punish the mainstream, but they are not prepared to dismantle liberal democratic institutions in the process.
Dr. Philippe Marlière, Professor of French and European Politics at University College London.
Here is the transcription of the interview with Professor Philippe Marlière with some edits.
RN Is Nativist, Reactionary, Far-Right—But Not Fascist
Professor Marliere, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: You’ve distinguished between authoritarianism and fascism in recent analyses. Given Le Pen’s ideological evolution and her party’s increasing parliamentary power, where would you situate her movement today?
Professor Philippe Marlière: Well, I would describe Marine Le Pen’s National Rally (RN) as a far-right party. If you want to place it on the left-right axis, as political scientists typically do, it clearly falls on the far-right. That’s also how many people in France perceive it today. Le Pen herself resists the “far-right” label, as it implies being on the fringe or extreme end of the political spectrum. However, that is how pollsters and the media commonly categorize the party. So yes, it is far-right.
It’s not fascist. I don’t think the National Rally can be described as a fascist party. Fascism is something quite specific. You can find fascism today in some countries and in some parties, but I don’t think the National Rally is fascist. I would call it nativist. The main concern of the National Rally is the support, through policies, of the indigenous population—the French—as they describe it, as opposed to non-French people or migrants. So: nativist.
Probably reactionary. Much of the National Rally’s policy and ideology seems aimed at returning to a past—often an idealized or even mythical version of the past—that France, in reality, never fully experienced. A past, of course, with fewer migrants and fewer foreigners. In that sense, it is reactionary.
The party used to advocate policies that were decidedly illiberal. For a long time, it supported the death penalty, opposed abortion, and stood against LGBTQ rights. It has evolved on these issues, and that’s likely something we’ll discuss further. In sum: reactionary, nativist, far-right—that’s how I would describe it.
Fascism, as I’ve said, is different. It involves the attempt to establish a totalitarian regime. It can promote racial politics and undermine or directly challenge the rule of law. I don’t believe the National Rally is currently inclined to do that—although, of course, once in power, they might attempt to.
That said, within the current political context, the National Rally appears to be a party that, if elected, would operate within the main institutions of France and Europe. It would likely cooperate with European partners within the European Union. For all these reasons, it is a far-right party, but not a fascist one.
A Major Blow to the RN’s Anti-Establishment Credibility
How do you assess the political implications of Marine Le Pen’s conviction and subsequent disqualification from running for office in 2027? Given the National Rally’s efforts to portray itself as a respectable, anti-corruption alternative to the political establishment, to what extent does this judicial outcome represent a decisive rupture in the party’s quest for power—and could it destabilize its electoral momentum ahead of a crucial presidential race?
Professor Philippe Marlière: Le Pen’s conviction—alongside that of up to 20 party members, mostly elected representatives in the European Parliament—is undoubtedly a major blow. It’s especially significant for Le Pen herself. She might not be able to run in 2027. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t think the decision will be overturned on appeal. She likely won’t be a candidate, so someone else will have to step in.
For now, she’s fighting to clear her name, but the conviction is so clear-cut, the corruption charges so substantial, and both her defense and the party’s defense so weak, in my view, that overturning the verdict will be extremely difficult.
This is a serious setback for Le Pen, particularly because she was seen as having a strong chance of winning the 2027 presidential election. It now seems increasingly unlikely that she will be able to run.
But more broadly, it’s also a significant blow for the party. As you mentioned, it has increasingly been seen as a normalized political force—no longer on the extreme fringe, but rather as a party whose ideas, members, and officials have gradually gained a degree of legitimacy. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it fully belongs to the political mainstream—not yet, not entirely—but to some extent, it is certainly no longer the early National Front of Jean-Marie Le Pen, the party that once frightened a large portion of the public.
So it’s a major blow for the party because part of its appeal lay in being increasingly perceived as no longer extreme by a majority of voters—or at least by a solid base of 37 to 40% of the electorate—while simultaneously remaining highly critical of the system; that is, the other mainstream parties, which it portrayed as corrupt and part of a de facto coalition responsible for poor governance in France and for the French people.
So, of course, being convicted and found guilty of corruption is a major blow, especially since much of Le Pen’s rhetoric has focused on attacking other parties—branding them as corrupt, accusing them of collusion, and portraying them as operating within a deeply flawed system. Now, that very charge is being applied to her.
There is evidence, and according to the first opinion polls, many people now view the National Rally as a corrupt party—or at least believe that the initial conviction handed down by the judges last week was justified.
Politicians Are Not Above the Law
Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardella are seen at the end of a polical meeting in Marseille for Rassemblement National party on March 3, 2024. Photo: Obatala-photography.
In a democracy, how should we balance judicial independence with the political fallout when a leading presidential contender like Marine Le Pen is barred from running due to financial crimes? Do you see this ruling as reinforcing or undermining public trust in French institutions? Moreover, is there a risk that—even if legally justified—it will fuel far-right conspiratorial narratives about ‘elites’ silencing dissent? How should mainstream parties navigate this moment without inadvertently legitimizing those populist frames?
Professor Philippe Marlière: As you would expect, Le Pen’s defense—and the party’s defense—was to claim that this is a denial of democracy, that the conviction was politically motivated, that the judges are politicized, and that the goal is to bar her from running because she would likely win. That’s what she said at a large rally last Sunday at Place Vauban in Paris. She made these claims, and throughout the week, Le Pen and her supporters have continued to repeat them. Of course, that is their narrative. But that doesn’t mean the narrative is true. In my view, it should be taken with a large pinch of salt and critically examined.
Let’s start with the heart of the matter. What is that? It’s the conviction of Le Pen and her supporters. She is guilty—guilty of a serious act of corruption. Several million euros of public funds were diverted to fake jobs. So we begin with that fact: she is guilty.
However, I believe that, with the support of some media outlets in France—not all, but some—the discussion has shifted away from Le Pen’s conviction and guilt toward a debate about politicized judges and an alleged denial of democracy. I remain very skeptical, if not outright critical, of Le Pen’s narrative, because it seems to me that the judges simply did their job: they applied the law.
By the way, who passed the law—the one that led to Le Pen’s conviction and its immediate effect? It was the lawmakers themselves. A bill was passed in Parliament in 2016. So it was people like Le Pen who voted for that law. They wanted to be extremely harsh on individuals convicted of acts of corruption.
That’s why I think it would be useful to bring the debate back to the heart of the matter: Le Pen’s conviction. She was found guilty of a serious act of corruption. And secondly, the judges simply did their job. To claim that they politicized the process is incorrect—they applied the law.
This also demonstrates something important: politicians are not above the law. They are treated like ordinary citizens—and rightly so. Why should a politician—even someone intending to run for the presidency, with a real chance of winning—be exempt from the law if condemned by French justice?
That’s the real issue. That’s what we should all be reflecting on, instead of defaulting to claims like “the judges are politicized,” and so on. In my view, that is the real question.
Undermining Justice Would Push Le Pen Back to the Political Fringe
Marine Le Pen has characterized her conviction and political ban as a ‘denial of democracy,’ echoing a broader far-right populist tactic of depicting institutions as tools of political repression. In the light of your critique of ‘political nudges’ like the ‘Islamo-gauchisme’ narrative, do you see a danger that the far right will now instrumentalize this legal verdict to delegitimize the French judiciary and fuel deeper mistrust in liberal democratic institutions?
Professor Philippe Marlière: I think it will be difficult to do that. They have probably already tried—particularly Le Pen. If you heard her speak last Sunday in Paris, when she addressed a rally of supporters, she was, of course, very harsh in her response to the judgment. She said, “Of course I’m innocent, this is a denial of democracy,” and so on. She also claimed that the judges who made the decision were politicized.
But she didn’t, so to speak, issue a broader criticism of the French judiciary. She didn’t say, for example, that the entire justice system is corrupt. She avoided that, because doing so would amount to directly challenging the French judicial system as a whole—and that would be quite serious.
It would indeed be highly problematic for a leading contender for the highest office in French politics to undermine the judiciary through such criticism. In a democracy, when you are a politician, you must respect the decisions of the judiciary. Failing to do so means interfering with justice—and that is a very serious matter.
The French political philosopher Montesquieu, in the 18th century, wrote about the separation of powers—executive, legislative, and judiciary—and he said that no power, executive or legislative, should be in a position to interfere with or encroach upon the power of the judiciary. If you do that, it’s no longer a democracy; it’s a tyranny. So justice must remain independent.
That’s why Le Pen will be very careful before launching a broader attack on the justice system. So far, she hasn’t done that. Some of her supporters have likely been less cautious, but she herself has been careful not to place blame on the judiciary as a whole. Instead, she has focused on specific individuals—the judges who issued the ruling—claiming, for instance, that the presiding judge was a leftist.
But this is a difficult line for Le Pen to walk. She cannot push too far in that direction. If she does, she risks being seen as undermining French justice and, as a consequence, being pushed back to the political fringe. Her opponents will say, “Look, you’re clearly not part of the mainstream. If you were ever elected, you would interfere with the justice system.” And that, of course, would be very serious.
Le Pen Must Defend Herself Without Undermining the Rule of Law
Given your work on the ‘dé–diabolisation’ or “de–demonization” of the Rassemblement National and the normalization of the far right in France, do you think Marine Le Pen’s conviction and political ban will disrupt this process—or could it paradoxically bolster her image as a political martyr and reinforce the RN’s anti-establishment appeal? Does this verdict pose a serious challenge to the RN’s attempt to position itself as a credible party of governance, or might it instead deepen its populist narrative of being targeted by a hostile elite?
Professor Philippe Marlière: Again, this is a difficult situation for Le Pen to handle, because she will, of course, try to defend herself. She has already filed an appeal, and I believe it will proceed very quickly—much faster than it would for ordinary citizens. Normally, an appeal takes two to three years, but in this case, it is scheduled for next year, which is unusually swift.
Why next year? Because it allows time for a decision to be made before the presidential election. This gives Le Pen one last chance to run—if she is cleared on appeal. In that sense, it also serves as further evidence that the judges, or the French justice system more broadly, are not conspiring against her. On the contrary, the legal process is offering her another opportunity to stand as a candidate.
So it’s a very difficult situation, because they have to be extremely moderate in their criticism of the justice system; otherwise, they risk being seen as a party that challenges the rule of law and the independence of the judiciary. They simply can’t afford to do that. Someone like Donald Trump may be doing so in the US and getting away with it for now—but in France, where Trump is, by the way, quite unpopular, that approach would not be well received.
So the room for maneuver for Le Pen and her party is quite limited. She can say, “I’m innocent, I’m going to appeal, the judges who made the decision were unfair,” but they cannot go much further than that. They cannot openly criticize the judicial system as a whole.
That’s why I think, in terms of image—since that’s your question—if we look at the initial opinion polls, of course, these will need to be confirmed over time. But according to the polls, people don’t seem to have changed their minds. The party remains quite high in the rankings, and Jordan Bardella appears to have, roughly speaking, the same level of support as Le Pen.
There are two distinct points here. First, it’s clear that the National Rally is currently the leading party in French politics. That was evident in the last two elections—the 2024 European election and the general election—where the party came out ahead of all others.
That’s one thing. The other is the judicial decision. And I think, overall, the opinion polls show that the French public believes the decision was fair. That’s why Le Pen can’t make too much noise about it. It’s seen as a fair judgment. French voters appear to believe that no one should be above the law—including national politicians. If they’ve done something wrong, they should be punished like anyone else would be in similar circumstances.
A Far-Right International Is Emerging—But It Won’t Help Le Pen
In the light of the vocal support Marine Le Pen has received from international right-wing figures like Donald Trump and Elon Musk, to what extent does this signal the emergence of a transnational populist narrative centered on judicial persecution or ‘lawfare’? Are we witnessing a growing global solidarity among populist leaders who frame legal accountability as political victimization by elite institutions and the consolidation of a transnational illiberal alliance?
Professor Philippe Marlière: Well, very likely. The initial signs suggest that there is a kind of de facto reactionary or far-right international that has rallied in support of Le Pen. I think all the major figures—key leaders of that movement in Europe—came out: Orbán in Hungary, Salvini in Italy, Trump, J.D. Vance, Bolsonaro. Many of them made public statements. Even Trump tweeted.
He probably doesn’t know Le Pen very well—perhaps not at all—but someone likely mentioned the case to him, so he tweeted in her support. Of course, he did so because these kinds of far-right leaders seek to undermine the rule of law in liberal democracies. They challenge judicial decisions whenever those decisions go against them, and that’s precisely what Trump has been doing in the US. So, this was more of an opportunity for them to do just that, rather than a genuine expression of support for Le Pen herself.
But yes, there is a de facto far-right international. And every time a decision appears to deprive far-right politicians of power—or simply goes against them—they tend to rally in support of that politician, as they did in this case.
What does that mean, concretely? I think this kind of reaction doesn’t clearly indicate what the future holds, one way or another. It remains very uncertain. When I refer to a far-right international, it shouldn’t be compared to something like the Socialist International, where organized parties met regularly and committed to shared policies. It’s not that structured. It’s more at the level of national leaders or heads of state issuing statements, especially via social media.
So yes, she received that support. But what does it mean for Le Pen in France? I don’t think it means much. As I mentioned, Trump is deeply unpopular in France—on both the left and the right. Almost no one likes him. So I don’t believe receiving support from those far-right figures will benefit Le Pen. I think she has to be very careful. Le Pen wants to be seen as more mainstream, so if she appears to be in cahoots with, or too close to, highly controversial politicians abroad, I don’t think it will help her.
Far Right Is Rising—But Too Divided to Replace Le Pen Easily
Leaflets featuring candidates for the 2024 legislative elections in Versailles, France, on June 28, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.
From the French perspective, does Le Pen’s downfall create space for a new figure on the European far-right, or is her symbolic centrality too embedded in the populist narrative across Europe to be easily replaced?
Professor Philippe Marlière: This highlights the central challenge facing the far-right in Europe. The far-right has been steadily growing—making electoral gains, winning elections, and even holding power in several countries. To start with Europe: they were in power in Poland; they remain in power in Hungary and Italy—a major EU country—and Le Pen and her party are performing very well in France. The AfD in Germany has also been doing well. So there is a clear, steady rise of the far-right, marked by significant gains in the most recent European elections.
That’s one of the reasons why the far-right is no longer seriously considering leaving the EU if it were to come into power. They’ve realized they can fight from within and attempt to redirect the EU’s political course.
So that’s good news for the far-right. However, does this translate into greater coordination or cohesion among far-right parties and governments in Europe? Not necessarily. For example, there are at least two parliamentary groups in the EU that include far-right parties. They were unable to form a single group, which, of course, weakens their influence because their efforts are divided across multiple blocs.
It’s also well known that far-right leaders do not necessarily get along well; they do not necessarily work together. For instance, Marine Le Pen is close to Salvini and La Lega but doesn’t get along well with the Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni—which is strange, because Giorgia Meloni has a legacy that is more similar to Le Pen’s. They both come from far-right parties initially. Of course, they’ve evolved somewhat and are now a little bit different. But whereas La Lega initially wasn’t a far-right party when it was created in the 1990s, it became a far-right party. So it’s very strange, and I can’t necessarily explain the logic of these de facto alliances between far-right leaders and parties.
I think it often comes down to their positions on policy, but it’s also about whether the leaders get along personally. I believe it’s more the latter. And that, in itself, is telling. Political scientists often say that the left has trouble uniting—and if you look at the French left right now, that’s clearly the case. They can’t come together.
But it seems the far right also struggles to unite, for similar reasons: ideological differences and personal rivalries. So this is where things stand at the moment. The far right has become more successful recently, but it remains divided. It is not a unified movement. Instead, it’s a collection of far-right parties spread across various parliamentary groups in the European Parliament—groups that don’t necessarily cooperate well or work together effectively.
Bardella Isn’t a Le Pen—But He May Be Even More Radical
Jordan Bardella, Le Pen’s protégé, is poised to become her replacement. Based on your analysis of generational shifts within the European far right, do you see Bardella as a mere avatar of Le Penism by remaining dependent on the Le Pen name, or does he represent a potentially more radical or technocratic trajectory?
Professor Philippe Marlière: There are differences between Le Pen and Bardella. First of all, he’s not a Le Pen. If Bardella runs in 2027, it will be the first time since Jean-Marie Le Pen launched the National Front in 1972 that no Le Pen is running for the FN/RN party. That’s the first difference.
There’s also a generational difference. Le Pen is 56, and Bardella’s youth could be appealing—particularly to younger voters—by presenting a new, youthful face of leadership. But of course, there’s a downside: he is politically untested and very inexperienced. He’s not known as a strong debater or a skilled orator. Reaching that level in politics takes time—it requires years of experience. Le Pen has improved over the years, and with Bardella, it would be a very different proposition.
There are also political differences. I think Le Pen has been—and still appears to be—more supportive of the de-demonization strategy. Unlike her father, she hasn’t attempted to shift the party to the center—the National Rally remains firmly on the far right—but she has worked to make some of its flagship policies on immigration, Islam, and the interpretation of French laïcité more acceptable to a broader segment of voters.
To make them more acceptable to other parties as well, because de-demonization works both ways. It involves you, as a far-right party, refraining from using aggressive rhetoric or making racist statements—things that generally do not resonate well with the electorate. But it also involves your opponents shifting to the right and adopting some of your policies, particularly on issues like immigration.
So there are differences, as Bardella appears to be somewhat more radical on those issues. His economic policies also differ; he’s more like Jean-Marie Le Pen of the 1980s and 1990s—more neoliberal, more supportive of laissez-faire economics than Marine Le Pen. So, you might think these are merely cosmetic differences.
And who knows what will happen if we assume that Le Pen won’t run? Bardella seems to be in a good position—he holds a strong position as the party leader. But who knows? Something might change. Other candidates might try to enter the race, and there could even be a primary election within the party.
Think, for instance, of Marion Maréchal, the niece of Marine Le Pen. She left the party a few years ago to join Éric Zemmour, but now she seems to have taken a step back from him as well. She attended the rally on Sunday in Paris in support of Le Pen. Who knows? She’s very popular among party voters. She’s a Le Pen, even though she no longer uses the name—she’s Marion Maréchal-Le Pen—and for that reason, her presence could be significant. She’s also a better orator than Bardella.
So, who knows what might happen? Bardella appears to be the front-runner to replace Le Pen, but we might be in for a surprise.
Portrait of French politician Éric Zemmour with Marion Maréchal (formerly Le Pen), leader of the Reconquête party, seen in Toulon during a protest against the arrival of the migrant rescue ship Ocean Viking. Photo: Laurent Coust.
Le Pen’s Legal Struggles Will Have a Limited Impact on Europe’s Far-Right Strategy
And lastly, Professor Marlière, what ripple effects might Le Pen’s conviction and framing as a martyr have on sister far-right movements in Europe, especially in states like Italy, Hungary, and Germany? Could it embolden them or shift their strategies? Do you think this case and its framing could be used by other European populists to delegitimize legal institutions, especially in countries where the rule of law is already under strain?
Professor Philippe Marlière: I might be a little optimistic on this, but I don’t think it will have a significant impact on the political situations in other countries. Of course, some will use Le Pen’s case to talk about so-called politicized judges, to claim a denial of democracy, to argue that the “true patriots”—as they describe themselves—are being sanctioned by their opponents, that they can’t speak the truth to the people, that they are restricted and constrained. You know, all the usual arguments.
I think they might refer to the Le Pen case in national debates to make those points. But I’m optimistic in the sense that each national context is different. And besides, the pace of politics today is very fast. In a few months, who will still be talking about Le Pen’s conviction?
There will be the appeal, so in a year or so, it may come back onto the agenda. But if the appeal is upheld, I think people will move on—there will be a replacement, another candidate, probably Bardella—and Le Pen will be quickly forgotten.
That’s one thing. The other reason I’m optimistic is that, as I said earlier, Le Pen has to be very careful about criticizing the judges and the justice system—not to be seen as undermining the rule of law—because that would be an extreme move. It would place her in a very radical position, one that most of the electorate, particularly conservative voters who are not far-right, would likely reject.
These are the voters who, in the second round of a presidential election, might be tempted to vote for Le Pen or someone from the National Rally against, for instance, a left-wing candidate—if one were to make it to the runoff. This electorate is conservative, right-wing, but not far-right. The National Rally needs to keep them on board and continue appealing to them. If they can’t—if they lose that electorate—they will never get elected. That’s why they have to be extremely cautious. And I think the situation is the same across most European countries—Italy, probably—with one exception: Hungary.
Hungary has been governed by Orbán for a long time, and many people say that while elections still take place, they are not very fair. It’s a highly authoritarian regime—illiberal. So, probably with the exception of Hungary, where the opposition is now quite weak due to all the laws passed by Orbán’s government, I think in other countries there are still counterpowers—opposition parties, trade unions, the media, and most importantly, the public—the electorate.
It’s not because the electorate is putting the National Rally ahead in France that they want an authoritarian regime. It’s a very complex reality to grasp. I think supporting the far right in France today means, above all, rejecting the other parties—both left and right. People believe those parties were once in power and failed. They tried Macron, and they believe he failed too. So it’s more about the idea: let’s try the only party that has never governed—the National Rally.
But that doesn’t mean voters want an authoritarian regime, or a government that will curb public freedoms or take extreme measures. That’s why Le Pen can’t see herself as the new Trump. I don’t think being a Trump figure would go down well in France. Then again, you might say, in the US, who could have predicted what happened there?
You see, that’s why I’m optimistic. But of course, things can sometimes go wrong very quickly. Still, that’s my view. I think that for Le Pen and the party to be successful and ultimately win an election, they will have to stick to their strategy of de-demonization—which means no longer being seen as an extreme or threatening party—so that enough people will be willing to vote for them.
Of course, they will maintain their policies—against immigration, against Islam, and against a number of other things—but they do so because they believe there is probably a majority of people who could support those positions. Just enough. That’s their strategy. It doesn’t mean they have a free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.
In a compelling interview with ECPS, Dr. Salim Cevik argues that Turkey has “crossed the biggest threshold from competitive authoritarianism to full authoritarianism.” Highlighting the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu, Dr. Cevik sees it as a targeted move to eliminate democratic competition: “He is being arrested because he could potentially defeat Erdogan.” Populism, once central to Erdogan’s rule, is giving way to raw coercion: “Force is the fundamental strategy of Erdogan.” Dr. Cevik also condemns Western silence, especially from Europe and the US, warning that their inaction amounts to complicity. “Erdogan feels very strong… because he has international backing.” Drawing a parallel with past mistakes on Putin, he cautions: “You can’t really trust a personal autocracy for strategic partnership.”
In a wide-ranging and sobering interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Salim Cevik—Political Scientist and Researcher at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs—offers a critical diagnosis of Turkey’s deepening authoritarian turn under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Framing the recent arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu as a pivotal moment in Turkey’s political trajectory, Dr. Cevik asserts that “we’ve crossed the biggest threshold from competitive authoritarianism to full authoritarianism.” While acknowledging that political repression is not new in Turkey, he emphasizes that this particular case marks a critical rupture because it directly targets “the most potent rival of Erdogan” and aims to eliminate any realistic possibility for the opposition to win an election.
Dr. Cevik situates this development within Erdogan’s long-standing strategy of personalizing power and dismantling institutional checks and balances. Over the course of two decades, Erdogan has “sidelined all important political figures,” absorbed the party into his persona, and gradually brought the judiciary, media, business sector, and civil society under his direct control. This personalization of rule has been “formalized” through the switch to a presidential system, which Dr. Cevik sees as a culmination of earlier informal power consolidations.
While Erdogan’s rule was long bolstered by a populist strategy that fused economic provision with religious-nationalist rhetoric, Dr. Cevik argues that this strategy is faltering. Erdogan is now “no longer the popular figure” he once was, as economic decline has eroded his legitimacy among even his core supporters. This, Dr. Cevik suggests, is what pushes the regime to rely increasingly on coercion rather than consent: “Populist mobilization is no longer the key term to understand Turkish authoritarianism… Force is the fundamental strategy of Erdogan.”
Of particular concern is the muted response from Western powers, which Dr. Cevik interprets as tacit approval. He criticizes both the United States and the European Union for enabling Erdogan’s autocratization, noting that “Erdogan feels both very weak because he’s losing popular legitimacy, but he’s also feeling very strong… because he has international backing.” In Europe, especially, strategic interests tied to Turkey’s military capacity and geopolitical location have led to a dangerous silence. “Europe made the same mistake with Putin,” Dr. Cevik warns. “I see no reason why Erdogan should be trusted more than Putin… It’s not only normatively and morally wrong—it’s also strategically blind thinking.”
In this critical conversation, Dr. Cevik calls attention not only to Turkey’s alarming democratic backsliding but also to the global implications of Western complacency in the face of authoritarian consolidation.