People wait in a long line to receive food donations for lunch on a downtown street in São Paulo, Brazil, during a severe economic crisis caused by the COVID-19 pandemic on June 2, 2020. Photo: Nelson Antoine.

Social Policies in Times of Austerity and Populism: Lessons from Brazil

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Kenes, Bulent. (2024). “Social Policies in Times of Austerity and Populism: Lessons from Brazil.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. August 26, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0017


The book, edited by Professor Natália Sátyro, provides a comprehensive examination of how neoliberal and populist radical right ideologies and politicians have reshaped Brazil’s social policy landscape. Through a detailed analysis of various policy areas, the contributing authors reveal the destructive impact of these ideologies on social protections and democratic institutions. For scholars and policymakers, this book is an essential resource for understanding the interplay between austerity, populism, and social policy in Brazil, as well as its broader implications for the global rise of the populist radical right. While the book is dense with figures, statistics, and technical financial and economic data, it remains essential reading for anyone interested in these critical issues. Sátyro and her Brazilian colleagues offer valuable insights that are well worth attention.

Reviewed by Bulent Kenes

“Social Policies in Times of Austerity and Populism: Lessons from Brazil,” edited by Natália Sátyro, provides a comprehensive analysis of the significant shifts in Brazil’s social policies during the turbulent period spanning Michel Temer’s and Jair Bolsonaro’s presidencies. Beginning with Dilma Rousseff’s impeachment in 2016 and concluding with Bolsonaro’s departure in 2022, this era was marked by profound changes driven by neoliberal economic policies and the rise of populist radical right ideologies. As the title suggests, the book explores the intersection of radical right populism and austerity measures in Brazil, particularly under Jair Bolsonaro’s presidency. Featuring cutting-edge research by Brazilian scholars, previously inaccessible to English-speaking audiences, the book offers a timely and authoritative multidisciplinary examination of social policies during Temer’s austerity measures and Bolsonaro’s populist rule. 

The diverse range of policies analyzed in the book provides critical insights into the political agenda, preferences, and strategies that shaped this tumultuous chapter in Brazil’s history. Therefore, readers encounter concepts from various disciplines throughout the book such as ‘distributive deservingness,’ ‘disinformation order,’ ‘disinformation,’ ‘misinformation,’ ‘malinformation,’ ‘infodemic,’ ‘social inclusion,’ ‘retrenchment populism,’ and ‘bancarization,’ among many others, reflecting the complexity and breadth of the topics addressed. However, this review focuses solely on the perspectives of neoliberalism and populist radical right approaches, highlighting how these ideologies have influenced the dismantling and reconfiguration of social policies in Brazil. Specifically, it examines how Bolsonaro’s populist radical right policies contributed to the erosion of social protections, mirroring trends seen among right-wing populist leaders globally. The review deliberately omits technical discussions on economic, financial, and social policies not directly related to the core theme of populism.

The book tackles several critical questions within the Brazilian context, such as whether there has been a deliberate effort to dismantle or reshape social policies. It explores whether populist radical right parties (PRRPs) in Brazil are genuinely distinct from the mainstream right, particularly in their stance on the welfare state, and if so, how they differ. The book also delves into how political parties’ positions on state intervention, redistribution, and social policymaking differentiate the left from the right in Brazil. Furthermore, it examines the ways in which the populist radical right diverges from the traditional right on economic, cultural, and social issues.

Given the success of the leftist Workers’ Party (PT) governments in politicizing inequality, the book investigates how right-wing actors have responded, particularly in terms of expanding or reducing the welfare state. It also considers how emerging anti-system, radical right forces have distinguished themselves from the traditional right in their approaches to redistribution, social policies, and increasingly significant cultural issues. Additionally, the book explores the impact of populist radical right parties on family policies, among other related topics. Overall, the book addresses a wide range of social policies, including social security, healthcare, education, environmental protection, indigenous rights, and gun control. Each chapter is grounded in empirical research, providing in-depth analysis of the effects of Bolsonaro’s policies.

Sátyro’s work is divided into four parts, focusing on social policy changes in Brazil, particularly from 2015 to 2022. The first section, “Contextualization,” offers an overview of Brazil’s political and economic conditions leading up to Bolsonaro’s presidency. It highlights the influence of the neoliberal agenda—marked by fiscal austerity, deregulation, and market-driven policies—on the transformation of social policies. The analysis begins with austerity measures under Temer, setting the stage for further cutbacks under Bolsonaro. The introduction discusses the political shift from the PT to Temer’s right-wing coalition after Rousseff’s impeachment, initiating significant reductions in social welfare. It also covers Bolsonaro’s rise in 2018, driven by populist rhetoric, anti-corruption campaigns, and support from neo-Pentecostal groups. His government further dismantled social policies, particularly during the COVID-19 pandemic, exacerbating the crisis through denialism and poor coordination. Sátyro frames the erosion of Brazil’s social protection system within neoliberal and authoritarian values under both Temer and Bolsonaro, raising questions about the dismantling of the welfare state and the role of right-wing populism in these processes. The introduction chapter sets the stage for the book’s exploration of how right-wing governments have reshaped social protection in Brazil.

In Chapter 2, “Social Policies in Brazil: An Introduction,” Natália Sátyro discusses the foundations of social protection in Brazil since the 1988 Federal Constitution (CF88), which followed the return to democracy in 1985. She places Bolsonaro’s actions within the broader context of global right-wing populism and highlights the ongoing exclusion of informal workers, particularly descendants of enslaved Africans, from social and political rights—a legacy of Brazil’s history as the last country in the Americas to abolish slavery. Sátyro also examines the complexities of Brazil’s federal system, where smaller states have disproportionate influence, complicating national policymaking and limiting presidential power. She critiques the fragmented implementation of policies across Brazil’s 26 states, particularly in education, due to the lack of a unified system. The chapter also addresses the Bolsonaro administration’s inconsistent approach to social policies during the COVID-19 pandemic, which worsened the crisis due to a lack of national coordination. It concludes by outlining the central themes of Bolsonaro’s government plan, including his use of religion and patriotism to appeal to conservative voters, supported by neo-Pentecostal leaders. This sets the stage for the book’s detailed exploration of specific policy areas impacted by these political shifts.

Chapter 3, “Political Parties, Ideological Preferences and Social Policy: Accounting for Right-Wing Strategies in Brazil after the Left Turn,” by André Borges, maps the political landscape, focusing on the interactions between the Executive and Legislative branches and the rise of right-wing influence. Borges draws parallels between Bolsonaro and populist leaders like Donald Trump and Viktor Orbán, highlighting their use of populist rhetoric to dismantle social protections and undermine democratic institutions. The chapter explains how the populist radical right’s emphasis on cultural issues allows them to avoid direct conflict with neoliberal policies, which might alienate their base. Traditionally, Latin American politics has focused more on economic issues due to high inequality, but recent years have seen a shift toward cultural issues, driven in part by the growing influence of evangelical churches in electoral politics. This shift facilitated the rise of far-right populist leaders, including Bolsonaro in 2018.

Borges divides Brazil’s right-wing into two groups: the mainstream right and the populist radical right (PRR). Through statistical analysis, he shows that while both groups align on economic issues, they differ sharply on cultural matters, with the PRR adopting more extreme conservative positions. The chapter illustrates how the Brazilian right has reorganized around religious and anti-political movements, leading to the successful mobilization of diverse electoral coalitions. Bolsonaro’s rise is linked to this realignment, with his campaign centered on cultural conservatism and anti-establishment rhetoric, mirroring broader trends in Latin America.

Chapter 4, “The Political Economy of the Brazilian Economic Crisis (2014–2022): Economic Policy, Ideas, and the Limits of Neoliberal Austerity Measures,” by Alexandre Queiroz Guimarães and Marco Flávio da Cunha Resende, explores the limitations of neoliberal austerity measures in Brazil. Although these policies reduced public spending, they failed to achieve sustainable economic growth, resulting in increased inequality and social unrest. This discontent set the stage for Bolsonaro’s rise, as his populist rhetoric appealed to a population weary of economic hardship. The chapter traces the backlash against neoliberal reforms, which initially led to the rise of center-left governments in Latin America, including Brazil’s PT. Despite initial successes under Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, Brazil struggled with high interest rates and domestic debt. Bolsonaro’s 2018 election brought a radical liberal agenda of privatization and austerity, but the COVID-19 pandemic forced a policy shift toward increased public spending to bolster his reelection chances. His administration’s poor governance, especially in social and environmental areas, contributed to his defeat in 2022. The chapter concludes with Lula’s return to power in 2023, highlighting his focus on social spending, environmental reforms, and economic recovery.

Chapter 5, “Disinformation and Democracy,” authored by Eliara Santana and Isabele Mitozo, examines the use of disinformation as a political strategy of obfuscation, highlighting the significant threat it poses to democracy and, specifically, to social policies. They delve into how disinformation was institutionalized in Brazil during Bolsonaro’s presidency (2018–2022) and used as a strategy to dismantle democratic institutions. The chapter highlights the establishment of a coordinated disinformation ecosystem, which became particularly evident during the 2018 election and the COVID-19 pandemic. This ecosystem was aligned with the federal government and fueled distrust in traditional media, while promoting misinformation, especially regarding public health measures. Bolsonaro’s administration actively undermined democratic institutions by leveraging disinformation, notably through social media platforms like WhatsApp and Telegram. The chapter also discusses the role of Bolsonaro’s “Hate Cabinet,” a group that spread misinformation to attack critics and destabilize democratic processes. This systemic disinformation campaign helped consolidate Bolsonaro’s power and left a lasting impact on Brazilian democracy. Even after Bolsonaro’s 2022 electoral defeat, the disinformation network remains a significant challenge, requiring a concerted effort to restore credibility to institutions and reliable information sources. The authors underscore that any current analysis of PRRPs must consider fake news as a deliberate tool with specific political objectives. 

Chapter 6, authored by Pedro H. G. Ferreira de Souza, examines income inequality and poverty in Brazil since its re-democratization in the 1980s. The 1988 Federal Constitution marked a significant shift in Brazil’s political landscape, emphasizing poverty eradication and inequality reduction as core goals. Despite these ambitions, progress has been uneven. While Brazil has made notable strides in reducing poverty, addressing income inequality has proven more challenging. The country experienced significant poverty reduction and narrowing inequality from the early 2000s until the mid-2010s, but these gains were undermined by the 2014–2016 recession and the COVID-19 pandemic. Under the rule of Bolsonaro, welfare spending reached unprecedented levels, particularly through the expansion of the Auxílio Brasil program in 2022. Despite Bolsonaro’s conservative stance, electoral incentives drove this welfare expansion. The Lula administration, taking office in 2023, continued this trajectory by rebranding the program as Bolsa Família and introducing new benefits. Sustaining these improvements may be difficult without further budget expansions.

The second part of the book, focusing on Compensatory Policies, examines the impact of key events like the 2014–2015 economic crisis, the Temer administration’s New Fiscal Regime, Bolsonaro’s rise, and the COVID-19 pandemic. Chapter 7, by Arnaldo Provasi Lanzara and Fernanda Pernasetti, explores the dismantling of Brazil’s social security system under Bolsonaro within the context of authoritarian populism and fiscal austerity. Despite facing congressional opposition, Bolsonaro implemented significant reforms that mirrored and expanded upon Temer’s unapproved proposals, particularly targeting pension systems. The chapter employs Nadia Urbinati’s concept of “authoritarian populism” to describe Bolsonaro’s approach, which combined populist rhetoric with strict fiscal discipline to gain market confidence while undermining social security. According to the authors, Bolsonaro’s strategy involved exploiting divisions within society, using austerity as a justification to reduce labor and social security benefits, and promoting privatization. The authors argue that, although the reform did not achieve its intended financial savings, it prompted a shift toward private pension plans. This reform, rooted in fiscal austerity, disproportionately impacted low-income workers and the elderly, reflecting a broader trend where economic efficiency was prioritized over social justice. This “expansionist dismantling” weakened essential income supports for poor wage-earner families. The long-term impact of these policies underscores the enduring threat posed by authoritarian populist regimes to social rights and democratic institutions. 

Chapter 8, authored by José Angelo Machado and Mauro Lúcio Jerônymo, discusses the significant risks posed to Brazil’s Unified Health System (SUS) during Bolsonaro’s presidency, particularly in the context of the COVID-19 pandemic. The pandemic response highlighted how neoliberal policies, when coupled with populist denialism, can devastate public health infrastructure, particularly for marginalized communities. Bolsonaro’s administration was marked by a blatant disregard for scientific and technical guidelines, instead promoting disinformation, ineffective treatments, and delaying vaccine acquisition. This strategy, driven by a “parallel cabinet” around Bolsonaro, undermined the cooperative federalism that had traditionally guided SUS operations. The Ministry of Health, under successive ministers, saw increased militarization, disregard for expert advice, and a breakdown in coordination with state and municipal governments. These actions led to severe institutional damage, including the erosion of public trust, loss of qualified personnel, and weakened epidemiological surveillance. According to the authors, Bolsonaro’s administration, with its focus on “deconstructing” existing systems, left a lasting negative impact on Brazil’s public health infrastructure, exacerbating the challenges faced during the pandemic and undermining the foundations of the SUS.

Chapter 9, written by Natália Sátyro, Eleonora Schettini Martins Cunha, Bruno R. Pinheiro, and Fernanda Silva, explores the detrimental effects of austerity and political changes on socio-assistance services in Brazil, particularly under far-right populist leadership. The chapter reveals how these essential services, especially for vulnerable populations, have been progressively undermined since 2014. Initially impacted by budget cuts during Rousseff’s presidency, socio-assistance services faced further challenges under Temer’s administration, which introduced a long-term spending cap that severely limited social spending. The situation deteriorated further under Bolsonaro, whose administration neglected these services and dismantled social participation mechanisms. Bolsonaro’s approach to governance involved discrediting social programs as corrupt or inefficient, using this narrative to justify deep cuts that exacerbated poverty and inequality. The chapter also identifies six distinct social welfare regimes across Brazil’s municipalities, reflecting varying levels of social protection. The COVID-19 pandemic compounded these challenges, intensifying poverty and food insecurity. Overall, the chapter highlights the vulnerability of socio-assistance services to political and economic shifts, particularly under right-wing governments.

Chapter 10, written by Joana Mostafa, analyzes the evolution of Brazil’s two main non-contributive cash transfer programs: Bolsa Família (PBF) and Continuous Benefit Programme (BPC). The chapter tracks changes from the impeachment of Rousseff in 2016 through to Lula’s narrow victory in 2022, highlighting how these programs were affected by political and economic shifts. PBF designed to alleviate poverty by supplementing household incomes, faced discrediting campaigns and reductions in coverage under Bolsonaro’s government, which sought to undermine the program’s structure. Bolsonaro’s administration introduced Auxílio Brasil, a replacement for PBF, emphasizing merit and privatization over social rights, while sidelining social assistance policies and increasing financial vulnerability for beneficiaries. The chapter underscores how Bolsonaro’s government used populist rhetoric to manipulate public perception of poverty, while altering the foundational elements of social assistance, turning the program into a vehicle for neoliberal and conservative ideologies.

The third part of the book, “Social Investment Policies,” includes Chapter 11, where Sandra Gomes and Catarina Ianni Segatto examine Bolsonaro’s symbolic strategies in education policy and how they reinforced his ideological agenda. Elected in 2018 with a far-right populist platform, Bolsonaro framed education as a cultural battleground against leftist ideologies, targeting higher education with budget cuts and promoting conservative values. Despite his rhetoric, Bolsonaro’s administration achieved limited success in enacting structural changes, as many proposals faced resistance in Congress. While minor policy changes occurred, Brazil’s educational framework, rooted in the 1988 Constitution, largely withstood his attempts at a conservative shift. The chapter concludes that Bolsonaro struggled to build a coalition capable of implementing radical education reforms.

Bolsonaro’s populist radical right ideology extended beyond economic policies to cultural and moral issues, particularly in family policies. In Chapter 12, Gabriel Penna and Natália Sátyro explore how his administration reshaped Brazilian family policies under far-right neo-conservatism. The chapter highlights Bolsonaro’s promotion of a traditionalist family structure, opposing gender equality and LGBTQ rights championed by previous governments. His approach emphasized reinforcing patriarchal norms, reducing state involvement in care services, and increasing privatization. By diminishing federal influence and shifting responsibilities to local governments, Bolsonaro’s policies weakened support for non-traditional families and expanded the privatization of childcare services. This reflects the populist radical right’s strategy of aligning social policies with an exclusionary, nationalist vision. The chapter warns that far-right ideologies may continue to obstruct policies supporting sexual and gender minorities and non-traditional families even after Bolsonaro’s presidency.

Chapter 13, by Regina Coeli Moreira Camargos and Pedro M. R. Barbosa, examines labor market policy changes in Brazil from 2015 to 2022, focusing on the erosion of labor protections. The chapter investigates whether this reflects a broader trend of welfare state retrenchment in Brazil. Following Temer’s pro-market reforms, Bolsonaro continued similar policies, especially with the 2019 Social Security reform. However, Bolsonaro prioritized budgetary control to secure legislative support rather than pursuing full austerity. The deterioration of labor conditions disproportionately impacted vulnerable groups, particularly Black women, who faced rising unemployment, poverty, and hunger. Although Bolsonaro sought to further deregulate the labor market, his administration mainly extended the policies initiated under Temer, including weakening labor protections and halting minimum wage increases. Neglect of both active and passive labor market policies deepened workforce inequalities, with the authors highlighting how these reforms reflected a strong neoliberal agenda, increasing risks for workers.

The fourth part of the book, “Policies Outside the Traditional Welfare State Scope,” includes Chapter 14 by Maria Dolores Lima da Silva and Ana Luiza Martins de Medeiros, which examines the strategic dismantling of Brazilian environmental policies under Bolsonaro, particularly targeting forests and indigenous populations. Building on actions from Rousseff and Temer’s governments, Bolsonaro aggressively weakened environmental protections and indigenous rights through financial defunding, regulatory rollbacks, and bureaucratic changes. His administration promoted deregulation, undermined institutions like FUNAI, and appointed ideological allies to key positions, further eroding protections. The use of symbolic and low-visibility strategies catered to powerful economic sectors by dismantling regulatory barriers to economic expansion. The chapter concludes that these policies have caused significant, potentially irreversible damage to Brazil’s environmental protections and indigenous territories, with long-term consequences that will be difficult and costly to address.

Chapter 15, by Ludmila Ribeiro, Valéria Oliveira, Rafael Rocha, and Alexandre Diniz, explores the deterioration of gun control policies in Brazil, particularly under Bolsonaro. Supported by the firearms industry and the “bullet caucus” in Congress, Bolsonaro significantly weakened the Disarmament Statute, leading to a surge in firearms. His administration issued decrees that relaxed restrictions, including increasing the number of firearms civilians could own and removing the need to justify purchases. These changes likely worsened violent crime, with firearms already accounting for over 70% of homicides in Brazil. In 2023, President Lula began reversing these policies, reinstating stricter gun control. However, the authors stress that addressing the weapon proliferation from Bolsonaro’s era will require more than just reverting to previous laws.

In sum, between 2015 and 2022, Brazil’s democracy faced significant challenges, especially in social policy, leading to major shifts in the welfare state. The administrations of Rousseff, Temer, and Bolsonaro each influenced the evolution of social protection differently. The book highlights a departure from the inclusive welfare state established after the 1988 Constitution, which had reduced poverty and inequality until the mid-2010s. From 2015 onward, poverty and inequality rose, particularly under Bolsonaro, who prioritized dismantling policies, reducing equality, and weakening social protections through austerity, deregulation, and erosion of key programs like pensions and healthcare. While some welfare elements, like non-contributory cash transfers, remained resilient, the overall impact was a weakened welfare system, greater inequality, and significant social costs.

In a sense, Brazil stands as a compelling case of resilience, with its institutions having endured significant challenges. Despite the current state of Brazilian democracy being far from ideal, it has withstood a violent and explicit attack. However, more time is needed to fully assess the resilience of the system as a whole and the long-term consequences of the processes analyzed in this book. The authors underscore the urgent need to defend social protections against the encroachment of authoritarian and neoliberal agendas, highlighting the dangers posed by the populist radical right to democracy and social welfare worldwide. While the book is overly dense with figures, statistics, and technical financial and economic information, it is an essential reading for anyone interested in understanding these critical issues. Natália Sátyro and her Brazilian colleagues offer valuable insights that deserve attention.

 

Natália Sátyro. (2024). Social Policies in Times of Austerity and Populism: Lessons from Brazil. Routledge. 412 pp.Paperback £36.99, Hardback £135.00, ISBN 9781032758374 

A sign for the Apartheid Museum stands next to the entrance. The exhibition is dedicated to the apartheid regime and the 20th-century history of South Africa. Artistic retouching was done in Johannesburg, South Africa, on March 30, 2016. Photo: Shutterstock.

Peacemaking & Peacebuilding in South Africa: The National Peace Accord, 1991-1994 

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Sithole, Neo. (2024). “Peacemaking & Peacebuilding in South Africa: The National Peace Accord, 1991-1994.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. August 26, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0016

 

In her book, Reverend Dr. Liz Carmichael unpacks the events, personalities, and socio-cultural, political, and economic realities during South Africa’s peace and transition negotiations from 1990 to 1998. She details the challenges faced by the country’s early popular mass movements and provides insights into the Manichean divide between political organizations. Through a reflective lens, Carmichael addresses the often-overlooked high emotions, ethnic-based societal cleavages, and split-second decisions that characterized the politics of the time. Crucially, the work demonstrates that the discussions surrounding the National Peace Accord were vital not only for bringing a decisive end to the political violence of that period but also for other significant reasons.

Reviewed by Neo Sithole

Violence in South Africa reached a zenith in 1990,  the culmination of internal progressive active resistance carried out by civic society, workers unions, religious bodies and then-banned political organizations in the forms of mass protests, strikes, marches or sit-ins. Former President P.W. Botha’s notions of ‘total onslaught,’ that South Africa was under siege by militarized communist forces that threatened the security of Apartheid South Africa and the white political domination and privilege it upheld and its counterpart ‘total strategy,’ the required combination of reform and repression made necessary the formation of military wings ties to banned liberation movements. In a move to douse socio-political tensions, State President de Klerk decides to lift the ban on political parties and release political prisoners. Instead of introducing calm South Africa saw a shift of violence from the domain brutal Apartheid regime to adversarial political parties the African National Congress and the Inkatha Freedom Party. From massacres on trains and to wars between rival township settlements, ‘black on black’ violence was quickly spreading. Prompted by the scale and absurdity of mass violence various churches galvanized, organizing themselves to bring political parties together to engage in peace talks, a step that would see the adoption of the National Peace Accord, a linchpin document in South Africa’s relatively peaceful transition to a full democracy. 

Due to its examination of political life influenced by some of South Africa’s earliest and largest popular movements (even being viewed as populist by scholars of transitioning South Africa) Reverend Dr. Liz Carmicheal’s work subtly examines themes of direct interest to populist scholars such as the Manichean ‘good vs evil’ and an inclusionary Left battling against an exclusionary Right. Additionally, the book offers examples of ethnic divides that materialize politically often seen in populist rhetoric or strategies. 

In the introduction, author Carmichael offers the book’s aim as being “first full account of the Peace Accord” (pg.1) and how under NPA structures South Africans took part in directly birthing and developing peace and contributing to what would be seen globally as a remarkable transition from a horrific Apartheid regime to an inclusive and uplifting non-racial democracy. Upon review, this is somewhat misleading. Not because the text doesn’t fulfil this, but because when reading what is presented is an extensive detailing of the socio-political environment(s) that surrounded the accord generated continuous shifts in peace talks, the people and personalities that for better or worse had an immediate impact on the outcomes of negotiations, objectives that influenced informed decisions taken by political parties and civic/religious organizations, and the how agreed upon political configurations relied upon principles cooperation between ordinary citizens for their functionality. There exists a reflective habit to ‘telescope’ the period between the unbanning of political parties in 1990 and 1994 when the country held its first, closely watched free and fair elections which is often done by spotlighting a few key moments based on the discretion of who something the book aids in rectifying.

As the title suggests, the book’s central themes are peace-making and peacebuilding, providing what these meant and looked like in South Africa during the peak of internal conflict. A third theme not explicitly mentioned but vividly shown is ‘peace-selling,’ where we see the extent to which the state, in cooperation with business and political parties, knowing that for peace to take root the notion of peace needs to be circulated by means that would be far-reaching and see peace be synonymous with the popular culture to subvert still existing political, regional and racial tensions. Outside of these, there are additional themes that, decades after South Africa transitioned into a democracy, remain salient and prominent within the country’s political, social and economic sphere like the dire need for enduring political tolerance, the touchy relationship between the government, political organizations, and businesses, how realpolitik can supersede ideological cleavages, how political expansion often generates animosity between parties that may hold similar ideological foundations or how certain political organizations built legacies on the kind of support/opposition received from the Apartheid government. 

Carmichael informs readers about how the people at the national level responded to what was very visibly aimed to be a shift in South Africa’s political dispensation and while doing so recognizes some who may not have been immortalized by previous works as being concerned with the business of peacemaking and peacebuilding on the ground. 

The book places significant emphasis on the dynamic between the African National Congress (ANC), the Inkatha Freedom Party (IFP), and the Apartheid government, primarily due to their pivotal roles in the ongoing political violence of the time. The IFP, initially a cultural organization, transformed into a quasi-political party after the ANC was banned, with the intention of continuing the ANC’s work. However, tensions arose between the IFP and the ANC over ideological differences. The main points of contention included the ANC’s shift toward violent resistance, its calls for intensified boycotts and sanctions against the South African economy (which IFP leader Mangosuthu Buthelezi believed would harm Black South Africans the most), and its increasing alignment with communist influences, which the IFP strongly disapproved of. 

The disputes, primarily stemming from friction between the IFP leadership—centralized around Zulu Chief and party leader Buthelezi—and the ANC leadership in exile, created a complex and multifaceted tension between the two organizations. These disagreements not only served as significant obstacles to peace during the period of violence but also influenced the negotiations leading up to South Africa’s first democratic election. The book highlights key aspects of the ANC-IFP conflict, including the controversial linkages between the IFP and the apartheid regime, which led many to view Inkatha as an extension of the regime’s security apparatus and collaborators in maintaining racial segregation. Additionally, the ANC’s refusal to disband its military wing, which the IFP viewed as a private army and thus a violation of peace accords, further fueled the strain between the two parties.

International sanctions, some in place since the instalment of the National Party in 1948, boycotts had limited the reach of South Africa goods and had caved under mounting internal pressure (notably the student movements) to leave Apartheid South Africa. These mirrored the economic forces internally that demanded change, spurred on by massive losses in profits brought on by stunted productivity, a shrinking market to sell to and crippling hikes in taxes introduced by the government in attempts to boost internal revenue and stave off total economic collapse. The widespread political violence and instability across the country significantly discouraged workers from attending their shifts, as they risked being attacked by rival political factions or killed by an elusive group of unknown assailants. Later in the text, Carmichael reveals that this shadowy group, commonly referred to as the ‘Third Force,’ was a combination of rogue elements within state security, members of political parties, and former liberation militants.

The recurring display of the ANC-IFP rivalry is recounted to have played out in forms across numerous occasions, the rivalry played out reinforces the understanding that for peace to be realistically achieved both parties needed to find themselves politically satisfied with their visions of the space they held in the country’s present and its future.  

Ahistorical oversimplifications of the Left-Right divide present in South Africa at the time are also tackled by the text. The book unpacks the various political parties and organizations that fell across the Left-Right spectrum, in line with their role and relevance during that moment/event and shares their ideological underpinnings or contextualizes any conflicts between them where necessary, and it often is. 

The deep ideological divide that shaped attitudes toward the peace process is thoroughly explored in the text. Dr. Carmichael highlights a notable example during the negotiations of the Peace Accord, where extreme right-wing factions rejected the Accord, labeling it a “communist trap” and a dangerous step toward handing over power to communist forces. They argued that there could be no peace without freedom for their respective “nations” (pg. 135). This rejection was mirrored on the far left by parties such as the Pan-African Congress and the Azanian People’s Organization, along with their allied unions. Initially participating in the peace negotiations as observers, these groups later withdrew from both the peace and future constitutional negotiations, believing that engaging with those they saw as the primary perpetrators of violence against the Black majority undermined the broader struggle for freedom.

Carmichael recounts some of the significant challenges of the peace process, noting that while getting all the necessary parties into the same room was difficult, an even greater challenge was getting leaders to genuinely communicate rather than talking past each other to score political points with their constituencies. On one occasion, a member of the far-right stood up during negotiations and argued that if the talks were truly open to dialogue, they must also entertain the possibility of allowing those who wished to remain segregated to do so.

The involvement of foreign organizations, including the United Nations and the Commonwealth Organization of African Unity, was strongly opposed by the South African government, as many of these entities had, in principle, sided with the ANC, which had called for the continuation of sanctions. Another theme explored in the book is the negotiations that took place outside the official talks. Away from their constituents and the media, where official positions often hindered progress, political leaders would engage in informal discussions at family homes, churches, or even during tea breaks, allowing them to clear disputes and build relationships more freely.

The National Peace Accord (NPA) was primarily a response to the widespread political violence in South Africa, aiming to prevent further bloodshed. Carmichael effectively breaks down how the Accord, once signed, was made functional and enforced. He details the evolution of the NPA, noting that the final agreement included chapters focused on addressing the structural issues contributing to national instability. These included socio-economic development, the restructuring of security forces to better represent the forthcoming democratic South Africa, and, crucially, the establishment of a code of conduct for political parties, the government, and unions.

Carmichael notes that for parties emphasizing consultative consensus with their constituents, there was discomfort with the ‘top-down’ approach taken in the accord negotiations. However, he cites that due to the immediacy and decisiveness demanded by the situation, it was the only viable option. That said, the book highlights that the real work for the NPA and the peace process occurred at the grassroots level, particularly in regions where violence had become entrenched, such as KwaZulu-Natal. This underscores an appreciation for the acknowledgment by NPA officers (many of them volunteers) of the need for varied approaches, as success in some areas relied on personalities and relationships for the effective establishment of NPA structures.

In discussing the sporadic nature of the clashes between party members, the book reveals that much of the political violence was either denied by political leadership or was the result of communities trying to defend themselves, taking pre-emptive action, or retaliating against previous political violence. It also addresses the challenges in finding effective ways to consolidate political cohesion between parties and their leaders on the ground, noting the frequent disruptions to negotiations caused by outbreaks of violence or retaliatory actions. Along these lines, sentiments of skepticism towards the accords are highlighted. Despite the accords being welcomed, there was widespread concern, particularly at the grassroots level, about whether the agreement would be adhered to. This skepticism was fueled by instances where signatories violated the principles of earlier peace agreements, thereby undermining both their commitment to peace and the accord as a whole.

It is shown that the NPA and surrounding discussions proved vital for a reason other than bringing a decisive end to the political violence; it was the prelude to the Convention for a Democratic South Africa (CODESA) negotiations that painted the blueprint for what the post-Apartheid South Africa would look like. For many in attendance, the peace accord talks presented chances to vent frustrations as well a platform for political maneuvering- in both of these cases, the underlying logic was that it was becoming increasingly clear that political and economic power was rapidly restructuring and that involved parties needed to actively mark their places to avoid being left out. 

Critically, the book clarifies how churches and businesses (capital) became pillars not only of the accords themselves but also of sustaining the negotiation process as early as 1990. These two groups, either independently or jointly, were pivotal in breaking down negotiation or communication deadlocks. They served as points of contact in violence-prone areas where neutrality was essential for quelling conflicts, highlighting the significance of churches, religious organizations, and collective businesses in facilitating the entire NPA process. The book provides insight into how large business groups shouldered much of the administrative burden behind the negotiations, offering resources such as boardrooms, cars, office buildings, and private jets. Regarding religious leaders, it reveals their shrewdness and acute understanding of the relative goodwill and reduced hostility afforded to them by their positions. They leveraged this to counsel political leaders, cool heated tensions, and, in some cases, bring political leaders of different denominations together through interfaith initiatives, thus bypassing the political divisions that would typically hinder such interactions.

While South Africa’s foreign policy and international presence have become characterized by principles of peace, universal human rights, and the need for dialogue, the book provides a background on the young democracy’s history of negotiation, highlighting its role in quelling international conflicts and paving the way for sustained peace and collective development. Dr. Carmichael contributes to crafting a holistic account of earlier populist movements by examining South Africa’s Manichean divides and ethnic-turned-political societal cleavages. Through reflective and detailed accounts of the events leading up to the peace talks, the relationships between key figures, and the short timeline between events, Carmichael illustrates that the period from 1990 to 1994 can be considered the most politically intense in the country’s recent history.

 

Liz Carmichael. (2023). Peacemaking and Peacebuilding in South Africa: The National Peace Accord, 1991-1994. Boydell and Brewer. 518 pp. $36.95, ISBN: 9781847013682

Hagia Sophia was converted into a mosque by the Erdogan regime in Turkey on July 10, 2020. Following the decision, several groups gathered in front of Hagia Sophia to celebrate. Photo: Ugur Ferhat Baloglu.

Claiming the People’s Past: Populist Politics of History in the Twenty-First Century

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Kenes, Bulent. (2024). “Claiming the People’s Past: Populist Politics of History in the Twenty-First Century.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. August 21, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0015

 

The book examines the populist use of history through a blend of case studies and thematic analyses spanning various geographical and socio-cultural contexts. It highlights how populist politics often adopt an anti-elitist stance, particularly against academic historians. Populists tend to favor simplified, decontextualized, or ambiguous historical narratives infused with strong emotional appeals—such as pride, anger, fear, or nostalgia—over the rigorous, evidence-based approach of professional historiography. Despite populism’s strong orientation toward the past, the academic exploration of its relationship with history has been relatively sparse so far. This book makes a notable contribution to addressing and bridging that gap.

Reviewed by Bulent Kenes

How do populists relate to history and address the past? How do they represent history and frame particular historical events, periods, or the dimensions of the past, present, and future? Why is the politics of history an important aspect of populism? What drives populists to engage in the politics of history, and what exactly is the appeal of history for populist politics? How do practices of ‘past presencing’ facilitate a populist political logic? What political and emotional mechanisms facilitate the mobilization of historical knowledge in populism? How do emotions like patriotism, fear, guilt, comfort, and indifference contribute to this mobilization, and what role do they play in populist narratives? Conversely, what emotions are avoided, and why? These are the questions that the editors and authors of the comprehensive volume “Claiming the People’s Past: Populist Politics of History in the Twenty-First Century” seek to answer.

The book edited by Berber Bevernage, Eline Mestdagh, Walderez Ramalho and Marie-Gabrielle Verbergt offers a rich array of concepts related to its central themes, including ‘fake history,’ ‘fictionalization of politics,’ ‘historiographic emotivism,’ ‘emotive historiography,’ ‘collective emotions,’ ‘collective narcissism,’ ‘past presencing,’ ‘presentism,’ ‘teleological presentism,’ ‘emotivism,’ ‘emotional truth,’ ‘memorial populism,’ ‘Manichean nostalgia,’ ‘progressive nostalgia,’ ‘nostalgia for the future,’ ‘reactionary nostalgia,’ ‘moral remembrance,’ ‘chronosophies,’ ‘updatism,’ ‘historical Russia,’ ‘deep people,’ ‘mutual deception,’ and ‘identity fusion,’ among many others.

The book explores the populist politics of history through a combination of case studies and thematic analyses across diverse geographical and socio-cultural contexts. Divided into two parts, the first part presents case studies that examine how specific populist parties, movements, or leaders engage with history. These cases cover a range of populisms globally, including the AfD in Germany, Islamic populism in East Africa, Vox and Podemos in Spain, and populists in power such as the Kirchners in Argentina, the Awami League in Bangladesh, Erdogan in Turkey, Trump in the US, Bolsonaro in Brazil, and Putin in Russia.

The second part focuses on thematic reflections that highlight key aspects of populist historical politics. These include the emotional and affective dimensions of populism’s approach to history, the use of ‘affective repertoires’ to promote specific historical narratives, and the role of emotions like nostalgia in right-wing mobilization. The book also examines the concept of ‘historiographic emotivism’ and the intertwined relationship between ethnic nationalism and populism. Additionally, it discusses how populists claim or reject epistemic authority, often showing a disregard for academic historiography. 

Ensuring consistency in an edited volume is challenging, as it can be difficult to review such collections from a unified perspective. However, the editors of this book have successfully met that challenge, distilling the essence of 16 articles that combine case studies with thematic and theoretical discussions. The editors also successfully overcome the ‘Atlantic bias’ in populism studies by offering a global perspective with case studies from the Americas, Africa, Asia, and Europe. The book also effectively represents both right- and left-wing populisms, as well as those in opposition and in power. From the case studies and conceptual analyses, the editors identify five recurring features of how populists engage with history: (a) vagueness and decontextualization, (b) a logic of equivalence, (c) antagonism, (d) moral and emotional appeals, and (e) rejection of representational pluralism.

As Jan-Werner Müller noted in the book’s foreword, populists often invoke specific historical events or figures to represent their vision of ‘the people’ while also signaling exclusions. They rewrite history textbooks, invest in monuments, and reshape the built environment to evoke past glories and reinforce symbolic exclusions—such as Erdogan’s transformation of Turkish urban landscapes in the Seljuk-Ottoman style. The book provides numerous examples of this glorification of the past, including populist reinterpretations by Narendra Modi, the AfD, PiS, and Donald Trump. Many right-wing populists promise a “rebirth” through these historical re-imaginings.

The book notes that it is common for politicians to engage with history to support their policies, and this is true for both right-wing populists like Narendra Modi and left-wing populists like Evo Morales. Despite their differing agendas, they share a similar approach: using history in the name of the people, against the elite, to divide society into opposing camps. From Holocaust revisionism in Germany to anti-communism in Viktor Orban’s Hungary and PiS’s Poland, far-right populists frequently push controversial historical interpretations. In the US and Brazil, Trump and Bolsonaro’s populist uses of the past have drawn criticism from historians. Similarly, left-wing populist leaders in Argentina, Venezuela, Ecuador, and Bolivia have used history to focus on the legacies of colonialism and military dictatorships.

According to the editors, populists present the past in a decontextualized and vague manner, drawing equivalences between otherwise unrelated historical events while antagonistically representing history and historians. Their relationship to the past is driven by emotion, and they reject pluralism in historical representation. Populist references to history are often anachronistic, too. Additionally, the book argues that populists do not present history chronologically. Instead, they organize a heterogeneous mix of events, periods, and figures around empty signifiers like ‘heroism,’ ‘resistance,’ ‘foreignness,’ and ‘threat,’ weaving them into a narrative of equivalence. Unlike ideologies such as nationalism or socialism, which invest heavily in creating their own historiographies, populists generally show little interest in developing distinct historical narratives. Notable exceptions include Hindutva in India and PiS’s authoritarian conservative populism in Poland, where there is significant investment in historiographical production. However, even in these cases, the book finds that populist historical revisionism relies more on judicial or physical repression of dissent than on scholarly debate. 

The book underscores that most populist depictions of history revolve around morally charged binaries of ‘us’ versus ‘them.’ Populists often claim to protect history from being stolen, corrupted, or erased, or they present themselves as restoring a glorious past. For instance, the book cites a comic published by Austria’s FPÖ that depicts Heinz-Christian Strache alongside 17th-century Prinz Eugen defending Vienna from the Turks in 1683, echoing similar rhetoric seen in the Brexit campaign, which invoked Britain’s resistance to ancient Roman invasion. Donald Trump accused those advocating of the removal of Confederate statues of erasing history, positioning himself and his supporters as defenders of American heritage. Similarly, Erdogan regime claims to ‘give back’ history to the people, suggesting it was stolen by the West and previous governments. The book highlights how both left- and right-wing populists engage in this narrative hijacking, often targeting ‘the elite’ as the culprits behind the neglect or corruption of historical consciousness.

Populist politics of history frequently involve an anti-elitist stance against academic historians. According to the book, populists prefer unambiguous, decontextualized, or vague histories filled with strong emotional overtones such as pride, anger, fear, or nostalgia, rather than engaging with the fact-finding mission of professional historiography. For example, Pawel Machcewicz’s chapter discusses how Poland’s PiS promotes narratives of Polish heroism in helping Jews during World War II to counteract the negative affects of critical historiography. Populists often frame themselves as liberators, returning a glorious past to the people, making pride and nostalgia key elements in their historical narratives.

The book highlights how populist people, leaders and parties, such as Rodrigo Duterte, Lega Nord, Vox, and the Kirchnerists, often reject pluralism in historical representation. The book reminds readers that populists tend to mythologize history, rejecting alternative narratives not because they are factually incorrect, but because they conflict with the moral and emotional narratives they promote. Beyond tales of heroism, stories of victimhood and suffering are also effective tools for populists to moralize politics. Decontextualized narratives of historical victimhood can emphasize the innocence of ‘the people’ and highlight the evilness of the enemy, helping populist leaders maintain an underdog status even while in power. For example, the book discusses the reconversion of Hagia Sophia into a mosque, showing how Erdogan and his regime use decontextualized narratives of historical victimhood to legitimize their rule and distract from present-day human rights abuses.

The empirical chapters of the book offer numerous examples of how right-wing populists selectively and effectively use the past. For instance, Klaus Neumann’s chapter on the AfD shows that their approach to history is driven by two aims: to create a genealogy for themselves and to contrast the problematic present with an idealized past that promises a better future. To achieve this, the AfD downplays the Nazi past, instead aligning themselves with the Conservative Revolution and claiming the legacy of Claus Schenk Graf von Stauffenberg, who attempted to assassinate Hitler in 1944. Despite this, they still attack Germany’s Holocaust memorial culture.

Chintia Bale and Gustavo Guille emphasize in their chapter on Argentina that memory plays a crucial role in power struggles, defining who belongs on each side of the political divide. They describe “memorial populism” as a subtype where the memory of a specific event is emptied of its original meaning, and a past charismatic leader is resurrected as the “eternal sovereign,” akin to the sovereignty of God in theocratic populism. 

Julian Kuttig and Bert Suykens, in their chapter on Sheikh Mujibur Rahman of Bangladesh, highlight how the manipulation of history and memory is central to Bangladeshi politics. According to the chapter, Mujib’s personal legacy (body personal) has been downplayed, allowing a populist memory of his political legacy (body politics) to dominate.

Pawel Machcewicz’s chapter on Poland illustrates how PiS has used history as a key tool to shape political and emotional narratives, defining enemies and rallying grassroots support. Central to PiS’s cultural agenda is the portrayal of Poland’s glorious past as under constant threat from corrupt elites and external foes who undermine Polish martyrdom and heroism. PiS’s “politics of history” involves accusing liberal elites and professional historians of promoting a “pedagogy of shame,” which critically examines darker episodes of Polish history, particularly Polish wrongdoings against other nationalities like Jews, Germans, and Ukrainians.

Neeladri Bhattacharya, in his chapter on the Hindu right, argues that populist regimes worldwide seek to reshape what is considered history. He describes how, under nationalist pressure, authors and publishers have faced attacks leading to apologies, book destructions, and increasing hostility since Modi and the Hindu right came to power in 2014. The assault extends beyond professional history writing to all academic institutions. Violence, including book burnings, online abuse, physical attacks, and even killings of thinkers and journalists, has become commonplace. According to the chapter, while secular nationalism in India aimed to create a multicultural memory, the Hindu right builds its nationalism on memories of religious antagonism. Professional historians are seen as obstacles to the Hindutva agenda, raising inconvenient questions and offering counter-narratives. As a result, they face sustained attacks, stigmatization, and accusations of being anti-national. This new regime of “historical truth” silences intellectual inquiry, normalizes censorship, and forges a connection between the populist ‘savior’ and the people.

Yagmur Karakaya, in her chapter on Erdogan’s neo-Ottoman nostalgia, argues that nostalgic populism is a common feature of populist historicities. Focusing on Erdogan’s speech during the reopening of Hagia Sophia as a mosque, Karakaya identifies three key discursive elements of nostalgic populism in Turkey: the legalization of history, the monopolization of history, and the revival of a “stolen” past. This analysis provides insight into the deeply rooted and comprehensive authoritarian Islamist populism of Erdogan.

In her chapter, Felicitas Becker notes that in East Africa, particularly in Tanzania and Kenya, most populist Islamist spokespeople are outsiders to the political establishment. 

In Oz Frankel’s chapter on the Trump era, right-wing populists accuse elites of betraying the American people and erasing the nation’s glorious past, fostering shame and guilt among the young, particularly white Americans. The chapter explores Trump’s populist portrayal, linking him to biblical figures, prophecies, and conspiracy theories. Frankel also examines key works of racist, far-right, and alt-right literature.

In their chapter, Mateus Henrique de Faria Pereira and Valdei Lope de Araujo explore the “updatist” use of history, a key element of Bolsonarist populism that underpins its historical denialism and spread of fake news. According to the authors, Bolsonaro’s far-right authoritarian populism in Brazil relies on denying and falsifying history, labeling all political opponents as ‘leftists’ or communists. This approach revives Cold War-era rhetoric, allowing Bolsonaro’s supporters to falsely depict Nazism as a left-wing movement and portray any opposition as communist.

Andrey Oleynikov’s chapter on Vladimir Putin’s Russia highlights the conservative and presentist use of history, centered on the concept of “historical Russia.” Oleynikov argues that Putin legitimizes his rule by claiming a mandate from a supposed “thousand-year-old historical state,” positioning contemporary Russia as the successor to both pre-revolutionary and Soviet Russias. This construction of “historical Russia” also serves foreign policy interests, justifying actions like the annexation of Crimea in 2014 and the invasion of Ukraine in 2022. Additionally, Putin’s regime has crafted the notion of a “deep people” to reinforce the belief that the nation is on the right path under his leadership.

In his chapter on Spain, Pablo Sanchez Leon examines the relationship of left-wing populist Podemos and right-wing populist Vox, which has voiced fears of an Islamic reinvasion of Andalusia, a region with a significant North African Muslim immigrant population, with the past and history. Leon argues that Vox’s historical narratives shed light on the overlap between nationalism and populism, two distinct yet often intertwined ideologies. Vox actively promotes counter-narratives against the so-called Black Legend, which highlights Spain’s cruelties in America. Leon also emphasizes that understanding populism requires attention to its use of historical narratives.

Laurajane Smith, in the first chapter of the thematic section, highlights nostalgia as a central emotion in the mobilization of revisionist history. She argues that nostalgia is key to the appeal and expression of various forms of populism, particularly right-wing populism. By invoking revisionist, mythologized, or selective histories that emphasize heroism and national pride while avoiding ambiguity, these narratives manage present-day emotions. Heritage, too, plays a similar role by historicizing emotions to legitimize contemporary ideologies. Alongside nostalgia, fear is also crucial for right-wing populism, which often rejects nuance to avoid feelings of shame and guilt.

Aviezer Tucker, in his chapter titled “Historiographic Populist Emotivism,” argues that populists view historiography as a narrative driven by passions rather than facts. For populists, the more emotionally charged a historical narrative, the more “authentic” it is. Tucker contends that populists lack the will to control their passions, leading to self-destructive policies. This is evident in the rise of “post-truth” (old “wishful thinking”) where beliefs are shaped by strong emotions rather than evidence. As a result, populist historiography cannot be evaluated through traditional historiographic methods. Populists may exert power by dismissing professional historians, as seen in Hungary, or by inciting social media “lynch mobs.” According to Tucker, to advance their agendas, populist leaders encourage historical amnesia, erasing inconvenient truths. In her chapter, Lea David echoes this sentiment, noting that official memory requires both the art of forgetting and remembering to be effective.

Allan Megill notes in his chapter that academic historians rarely attract the attention of populists, who typically use “the past” to evoke emotions that unite “the people” and motivate them toward action. Another chapter’s author, Chris Lorenz, adds that populist leaders, consistently framing the present as a time of crisis, aim to restore their people’s supposed past greatness. Leaders like Trump, Putin, Orban, and Erdogan frequently invoke a narrative of past glory, recent decline, and future resurrection, shaping a populist timeline of rise, fall, and redemption.

As we look at the other (namely critical) side of the coin, the editors of the book adopt Ernesto Laclau’s formal definition of populism as a ‘political logic’ and allowed the chapter authors to choose the approach that best suited their case studies. As a result, many chapters are preoccupied with lengthy and repetitive discussions on the definition of populism, alongside deep philosophical deliberations that can feel excessive. Additionally, since some chapters were written in 2020 and 2021, the book does not address the most recent political developments in countries like Brazil, US and Argentina, where the situation has changed dramatically. Furthermore, as Megill points out in his chapter, some of the empirical studies in the book focus more on nationalist ‘historicity’ than on populist narratives. 

As one of the chapter authors notes, although populism is ‘essentially past-directed,’ the academic literature on its relationship with history has remained limited so far. From an overall perspective, this book represents a significant attempt to address and fill that gap.

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Berber Bevernage, Eline Mestdagh, Walderez Ramalho and Marie-Gabrielle Verbergt. (2024). Claiming the People’s Past: Populist Politics of History in the Twenty-First Century. (Cambridge University Press). 343 pp. $110, ISBN: 978-1-009-45363-9

Photo: Dmitry Demidovich.

The Wrecking of the Liberal World Order 

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Guidotti, Andrea. (2024). “The Wrecking of the Liberal World Order.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. January 17, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0013

 

In his book, “The Wrecking of the Liberal World Order,” Vittorio Emanuele Parsi argues that the neoliberal distortion of democracy has led to its erosion, giving rise to populism. This phenomenon has permeated both public discourse and the political culture of mainstream parties. Faced with this challenge, these parties find themselves at a crossroads, having to decide between a defensive response to the surge of populist movements or adapting and converging with their political platforms to prevent substantial losses in electoral support.

Reviewed by Andrea Guidotti

Some major shifts are shaping international politics in recent decades. Firstly, there is a noticeable decline in American leadership as the primary global force, accompanied by the simultaneous ascent of authoritarian powers such as China and Russia, altering the power dynamics among major nations. Secondly, terrorism, particularly its religiously charged variants, has gained increasing relevance and urgency, raising concerns in some regions, with the Mediterranean standing out prominently. Thirdly, during Donald Trump’s presidency, the United States veered away from the multilateral system, exhibiting unprecedented revisionist stances. Lastly, the ascent of nationalist and, more significantly, populist movements has tainted political discourse, disengaging citizens from liberal and, particularly, democratic principles in distinct yet interconnected ways.

In his book “The Wrecking of the Liberal World Order” Vittorio Emanuele Parsi, Professor of International Relations at the Catholic University of Milan, Italy, delves into the current state of the international political and liberal system. With a keen focus on the ongoing changes within the system, potentially jeopardizing its stability, Parsi’s central argument posits that since the 1980s, the Liberal World Order has gradually given way to the Neoliberal World Order, fundamentally altering its intrinsic nature.

The book contends that the foundational pillars of the system face challenges from various political and ideological movements: (i) Neoliberalism, which highlights the shortcomings of ‘big governments’ in terms of resource mismanagement and hindrance to the efficiency of market mechanisms; (ii) Neoconservatism, countering the ‘progressive’ agenda by emphasizing traditional values and principles of law and order; and (iii) Ordo-liberalism, utilized to justify state policies favoring capital at the detriment of labor.

The Liberal World Order is grounded in two fundamental objectives: firstly, the establishment of a system that is both open and institutionalized, ensuring the potential for democracies to flourish and prosper; and secondly, the reinforcement of the domestic political and socioeconomic systems upon which the overarching system is constructed. These goals were envisioned to materialize through the establishment of the United Nations, a universal and comprehensive institution replacing the ineffective League of Nations. It acknowledged the privileged status of the great powers that emerged victorious in World War II – the United States, the Soviet Union, China, the United Kingdom, and France.

The fundamental distinction between Liberalism and Neoliberalism lies in the nuanced relationship they establish between democracy and the market economy. Democracy, built on the premise of equality despite inherent individual differences, contrasts with the free market economy’s tendency to thrive on inequality, rewarding the most efficient entities and individuals based on their abilities/capabilities, productivity, and merits. The Neoliberal project, therefore, deviated by downplaying concerns related to inequality and fostering a system where increased productivity, driven by technological advancements, exclusively rewarded capital investments. This shift was not isolated; it emerged as a response to the widespread perception among politicians of stagnant wages and growing job insecurities.

The underlying logic was as follows: ‘income does not matter; consumption does.’ In simpler terms, as long as the middle class could maintain its consumption levels due to the newly implemented policies, it might not be overly concerned about the growing levels of inequality. What tends to be overlooked in these arguments is the reality that, even if there is no deliberate attempt to eliminate economic inequality with the aim of preventing political inequality, people do not need convincing that their unequal economic power translates into political disparities. Consequently, public policies geared towards creating more favorable conditions to attract international capital began to progressively fuel unemployment among the middle class, heighten job insecurities, erode the Welfare State, and bring an end to redistributive policies. In essence, an ideological clash between economic freedom and political sovereignty (the efficacy of democracy) emerged within and from the framework of the Liberal World Order.

According to Parsi’s book, the first problematic dimension of the current Liberal World Order is its altered distribution of power, coinciding with the transition from a unipolar to a multipolar system, where the US no longer stands as the sole global great power. On one hand, China is growing more assertive in the Pacific and Indian Ocean, implementing a ‘String of Pearls Strategy’ that involves cultivating privileged diplomatic, commercial, and military relations with certain countries, aiming to control vital sea lines of communication and strategic logistical supplies. Specifically, China seeks to assure its neighbors that it is a reliable actor, refraining from unnecessary threats as long as its perceived interests remain intact. On the other hand, Russia, exemplified by the annexation of Crimea and the invasion of Ukraine, is endeavoring to expand its sphere of influence, willing to employ military means if deemed necessary. Additionally, both China and Russia are strategically involved in the Middle East, where the American presence has become increasingly problematic. While not explicitly sharing a strategy against the US, it is evident that Russia and China have been striving to establish a common platform against American hegemony.

The second problematic dimension involves the ‘molecularization and privatization of the threat,’ a consequence of the proliferation of terrorist groups that particularly destabilizes Western public opinions and political elites. In particular, Islamist terrorism has demonstrated a significant capacity for deconstruction within the Liberal World Order. Two noteworthy aspects emerge here. Firstly, the Mediterranean region has regained significant importance, serving as a focal point for indirect strategic actions against European countries to undermine their political stability. Secondly, Russia has reopened the front of contention in the Baltic Sea with respect to NATO.

The third problematic dimension is the American shift concerning the system during Trump’s presidency. Trump built his political credibility by addressing concerns about the emergence of ‘jobless growth,’ where economic expansion fails to translate into an expansion of job opportunities. In another light, argues Parsi, there’s the phenomenon of the ‘rentierization of the capitalistic system,’ which significantly favors financial investments over productive ones. Moreover, Trump pledged to deconstruct the Liberal World Order from within to rectify these distortions. Within Trump’s framework, the US revealed itself as a revisionist power within the system. By rejecting multilateral practices as a means to express its vision of a ‘constraint-free’ America, the US administration undermined the foundations of its own credibility in the eyes of both partners and allies, as well as adversaries.

The fourth problematic dimension revolves around democratic contamination caused by sovereigntist populism and technocratic oligarchies. The emergence of populist movements has led to a democratic deformation wherein opinions are simplistically and systematically transformed into decisions. The neoliberal distortion of democracy and its erosion have fostered populism, intoxicating both public discourse and the political culture of mainstream parties. These parties are then confronted with the choice of either defensively responding to the rise of these populist movements or adapting and converging with their political platforms to avoid significant loss in electoral support. According to the book, two strands of populism are crucial to this analysis: one targeting economic and financial elites, advocating for policies perceived as betraying the interests of American workers, and the other embodied in Trump’s politics, characterized by racial and ethnic-based nationalism and the notion of a ‘true America’ with distinct political inclinations. In a broader sense, populism can be viewed as a signal of discontent but also as a call to restore the balance between elites and the common people. Crucially, even when acknowledging that economic and social inequality naturally arises from individual differences in abilities and resources, this acceptance should not be used as a justification for the perpetuation of existing political inequality.

Professor Parsi concludes the book with a chapter on the pandemic and its relationship with the current (Neo)Liberal World Order, exploring potential solutions to the issues discussed throughout the book. Covid-19 showed that we were not all equally vulnerable to the virus, as its impact is asymmetric both for natural and especially economic reasons. This asymmetry mirrors the asymmetries, imbalances and inequalities inherent in the (Neo)Liberal World Order, where a few dictate its political and economic structure, disregarding the interests of the many and violating the foundational principles established post-WWII. Consequently, three key takeaways are proposed as potential remedies or paths worth pursuing: (i) rebuilding an up-to-date Liberal World Order by way of revitalizing democratic regimes in such a way that they can gain back control of market dynamics; (ii) the premise of the project should be a privileged relationship between the two sides of the Atlantic, i.e. democratic powers; (iii) We must not forsake values in favor of interests only, ensuring that those with underrepresented political strength are not overlooked or allowed those to wield power solely based on their economic and status position, influencing and shaping the rules of the game regarding the functioning of the system.

The Wrecking of the Liberal World Order by Vittorio Emanuele Parsi (Palgrave Macmillan, 2021). 325 pp. €139,09 (Hardback), ISBN: 3030720454, 9783030720452

Davao City officials, including Vice President Sara Duterte, celebrated Philippine Independence Day on stage in Davao City, Philippines, on June 12, 2024. Photo: Elvie Lins.

The Philippines: From ‘People Power’ to Democratic Backsliding

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Kenes, Bulent. (2023). “The Philippines: From ‘People Power’ to Democratic Backsliding.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. June 14, 2023. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0014

 

In his recently released book, scholar Mark R. Thompson underscores how the “people power” narrative gradually lost credibility in the Philippines, as evidenced by the opposition’s resounding defeat in the 2022 elections. This outcome demonstrated the diminishing appeal of this discourse among the majority of Filipinos. Given Thompson’s assessment of Duterte’s election and his populist legacy as the latest iteration of a cyclical pattern in Philippine politics, his book represents a valuable contribution to the literature on populism.

Reviewed by Bulent Kenes

On May 9, 2016, Rodrigo Roa Duterte was elected as the 16th President of the Philippines by the Filipino people. Despite his controversial reputation, which he had acquired during his long political career as the mayor of Davao City, Duterte emerged victorious. He pledged to establish a regime similar to the one he had implemented in Davao City, with the goal of restoring “law and order” throughout the entire country. Following his inauguration, public trust in him soared to an astonishing 91 percent. What factors contributed to Duterte’s remarkable success as an illiberal and penal populist leader? How did the socio-economic environment and troubled political history of the Philippines play a role in the frequent rise of populist strongmen like Duterte? In his recently published book, “The Philippines: From ‘People Power’ to Democratic Backsliding,” Mark R. Thompson explores the socio-political, economic, and structural factors behind the convergence of democratic backsliding and the rise of strongman leaders within the Filipino context.

Thompson’s book utilizes a structuration approach to analyze the country’s recent shift towards strongman rule within the historical backdrop of nearly a century of Philippine presidential politics. The Philippines stands as one of the few global cases of “hyper-presidentialism.” The book highlights the fact that Philippine presidents possess significantly more formal power than their counterparts in the United States, particularly when it comes to their wide discretion over budgetary matters, which is essential in a patronage-driven democracy, making them the “patrons-in-chief.” They can subordinate the legislature, the courts, and independent bodies, despite theoretically being coequal branches of government or constitutionally mandated agencies, thus establishing the President’s authority as nearly omnipresent throughout the state apparatus.

Thompson’s book traces this “tyrannical potential” of Philippine presidents back to the American colonial era. One section of the book explores how a patronage-driven democracy facilitated executive aggrandizement by three transgressive presidents – Quezon, Marcos, and Duterte – who employed strongman messaging as they disregarded weak formal democratic checks. It also examines the stronger but uncertain informal constraints imposed on presidential power by elite strategic groups that employed a liberal reformist discourse. This dynamic first emerged after the manipulated 1949 presidential elections and resulted in Magsaysay’s victory four years later. However, a similar effort two decades later failed to prevent Ferdinand E. Marcos from imposing martial law. Yet, Marcos was later ousted by a people powermovement with a similar elite “hegemonic bloc” at the forefront. Following Marcos’ downfall, corruption scandals, which seemed inevitable in a patronage-dominated system, undermined the promise to restore “good governance” and also discredited the elite strategic groups promoting it. With the weakening of reformism and elite guardianship, a political opportunity arose for Duterte’s highly illiberal messaging. Duterte swiftly regressed Philippine democracy after winning the presidency in 2016. As a pioneer in political violence, Duterte fundamentally transformed Philippine politics by making violent populism appealing to the majority of Filipinos.

The first authoritarian leader in the Philippines was Commonwealth President Quezon, and three decades later, Marcos followed in Quezon’s footsteps. Even before declaring martial law in 1972, Marcos had already become the most powerful president since the country gained independence in 1946. He crafted an elaborate justification for martial law, citing not only threats from the far-left (communists) and far-right (oligarchs), but also utilizing strongman messaging that promised to address poverty, injustice, and bring about political change. Marcos argued that authoritarian rule was necessary to restore order and accelerate development. He imposed strict restrictions on the previously free press, which was factionalized and oligarchical, suppressing opposition criticism of nepotism and favoritism. The Marcos regime quickly transformed into a highly “sultanistic” system, blurring the boundaries between the public treasury and the private wealth of the ruler. Marcos and his wife Imelda became the wealthiest couple in the Philippines and among the richest in the world.

Meanwhile, Thompson emphasizes the presence of four influential non-governmental strategic groups (the Catholic Church hierarchy, big business leaders, civil society activists, and top military brass) that have played pivotal roles in constraining presidential power since independence in 1946, particularly during the later stages of the Marcos dictatorship and in the post-people power era. While not directly part of the government, these groups maintain close ties to the state, with representatives from big business and civil society often holding high-ranking positions in presidential cabinets. They possess extensive organizations that enable them to mobilize supporters in favor of or against a president, either through nonviolent means such as demonstrations or, in the case of the military, through a show of force via military intervention.

The book also integrates three key themes from existing literature – patronage democracy, political violence, and widespread impoverishment – to provide a comprehensive understanding of the Philippines’ recurring democratic crises. From a structuralist perspective, according to Thompson, the democratic transition that commenced after Marcos’ downfall in 1986 was only temporary. The “people power” uprising in Metro Manila in February 1986 captured global media attention and received praise from world leaders. This peaceful overthrow of an authoritarian ruler by civilian protesters demanding democratic restoration demonstrated the potential for change. However, Thompson argues that the perception of people power has undergone a remarkable metamorphosis in the Philippines, particularly since the time of Corazon C. Aquino, the widow of the assassinated opposition politician Benigno “Ninoy” S. Aquino, Jr., who assumed the presidency after the heavily manipulated snap presidential elections in early February 1986 that triggered the uprising. 

Author recalls that two additional crises unfolded in the subsequent three decades. Another “people power” style uprising took place, but this time it was directed against the freely and fairly elected President Joseph E. Estrada in 2001. His successor, Gloria Macapagal Arroyo, faced immediate and long-term legitimacy issues throughout her scandal-ridden tenure. In 2016, Duterte was elected, pledging a brutal “war on drugs.” Duterte’s popularity during his term created a strong political demand for a presidential candidate with a similar strongman image. Surveys indicated that 85 percent of Filipinos preferred “partial” or “full continuity” of his rule. Ferdinand Romualdez Marcos, Jr., the son of the Marcos dictatorship’s ruling couple, positioned himself as the rightful heir to Duterte’s legacy and won the May 2022 presidential elections with ease. Running alongside Duterte’s daughter as his vice-presidential candidate, the Marcos-Duterte tandem successfully positioned themselves as the successors to Duterte. Despite hopes from opponents that “Dutertismo” would fade away in 2022, there is little indication that Marcos intends to deviate from Duterte’s illiberal path. 

According to Thompson, this democratic backsliding occurred against the backdrop of historically rooted structural conditions in which neoliberal economic strategies revived economic growth but failed to significantly alleviate poverty, thereby enabling Duterte to secure power. The author highlights the fact that while post-dictatorship presidents in the Philippines restored financial stability and stimulated economic growth, they were unsuccessful in eradicating mass poverty. “Proletarian populists” who promised to help the majority of Filipinos who identified themselves as poor were either overthrown or subject to electoral fraud. This created an opportunity, according to Thompson, for Duterte to present himself as the last hope for Filipinos. By convincing many that they had been betrayed by the “irresponsible ‘yellow’ elites,” Duterte, as president, initiated a “war on drugs” that resulted in thousands of extrajudicial killings by the police and vigilantes linked to law enforcement. He justified these murders by dismissing liberalism and human rights as “Western” concepts. By late 2018, the Chair of the Philippine Commission on Human Rights estimated that up to 27,000 suspected drug users and dealers had been killed in the drug war. Duterte even targeted mayors and local officials accused of having drug links – by June 2021 more than half of the forty-four mayors, vice mayors, and other local officials identified by the Philippine president as being “narco politicians” had been killed.

Despite his obvious illiberalism, Duterte claimed democratic legitimacy, aligning with larger global trends. Unlike Trump and right-wing populists in developed countries who targeted immigrants, Duterte identified drug users and dealers as “enemies of the people.” His violent populism went beyond the typical “penal populism” seen in the West, representing an extreme form of illiberal rule that embraced an aggressive “us versus them” mentality. Thompson reminds that through his “war on drugs,” Duterte garnered massive popular support, surpassing the levels achieved by other illiberal populists globally. However, according to him, Duterte was not the first Philippine president to extensively employ political violence to consolidate power. Quirino relied on local warlords to intimidate the opposition during his presidential election campaign in 1949. As a young man Marcos, Sr., was convicted of killing his father’s chief political rival. In his controversial reelection campaign in 1969, Marcos employed not just local paramilitaries but also national military force, which he had increasingly brought under his personal control in the run-up to declaring martial law in 1972.

Thompson highlights that while many contemporary illiberal populist leaders have marginalized, imprisoned, or even assassinated those targeted and othered by their rhetoric, Duterte stands out for instigating state-led mass murder against his own country’s civilian population through his war on drugs. While Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Turkey intensified attacks against Kurdish rebels and Vladimir Putin in Russia waged the brutal Second Chechen War and later invaded Ukraine, these are military campaigns rather than “peacetime” massacres, as clarified by Thompson, although Erdogan’s campaigns against Kurds have also involved attacks during peacetime. These strongman presidents effectively crafted messaging to justify their concentration of power, often resorting to political violence and exploiting persistent poverty as a pretext for their power grabs. As poverty rates and unemployment remained high during the post-Marcos era, the liberal reformist discourse appeared uncaring and morally self-righteous.

Furthermore, Duterte eroded democracy through less violent means as well, eroding judicial independence, marginalizing independent institutions, and bullying local leaders, according to the book. His patronage politics undermined institution-building. The country’s bureaucracy has a history tainted by political interference and corrupt practices, with widespread perception of corruption in the courts. Duterte capitalized on a “legally cynical public” that lacked trust in a flawed judicial system, where drug offenders often had their cases dismissed on technicalities and bribery and manipulation were common accusations. Duterte, a former prosecutor, presented his drug crackdown as a silver bullet, appealing to the belief that the corrupt legal system needed cleansing before meaningful reforms could be introduced.

The rise of Duterte’s violent populism was also facilitated by the weakening of key elite strategic groups mentioned earlier in the book. For example, Duterte effectively outmaneuvered the church by threatening to expose its sex scandals, claiming personal childhood abuse by a priest. Institutional barriers were swiftly sidelined, resulting in the emergence of an illiberal democracy. As a political innovator, Duterte drew from and transformed traditions of local political violence in the Philippines, which he continued during his presidency. He also employed the strategy of securitizing problems and scapegoating the urban poor in other policy areas, notably in his highly militarized but ineffective response to the pandemic.

The book argues that the Philippines’ recent democratic backsliding is a result of Duterte’s violation of democratic norms in a patronage-driven democracy with weak institutionalization, following the patterns of Quezon and Marcos before him. The book also closely examines pseudo-reform programs used to divert attention from the persistence of mass poverty. Recently, Duterte’s drug war has primarily targeted the poor, with urban residents who are petty drug users and dealers becoming the focus, while mass poverty continues to endure. However, this approach proved effective in legitimizing his highly illiberal rule.

Like previous presidents, according to the author, Duterte did not harbor a general hostility towards the oligarchy; rather, he used such rhetoric as a means to attack his political enemies and favor his own allies. However, the broken promises of his predecessors to combat corruption and alleviate poverty had paved the way for simplistic solutions to the country’s complex social problems, exemplified by Duterte’s “dystopian narrative” of the drug war. The drug war’s popularity across class lines indicated that Duterte had successfully redirected the grievances of the poor away from the failures of social reform. In line with Marcos and Quezon before him, Duterte exploited the persistence of poverty to justify the erosion of democratic values. Employing pseudo-social reforms, Duterte portrayed his drug war as a panacea for the nation’s social issues, garnering support across different social strata, despite the fact that it harmed and disproportionately targeted the poor.

As a strategy of legitimation, Duterte relied on extravagant but largely hollow promises of implementing social reform, eradicating corruption, and eliminating illegal drugs, which proved remarkably effective as political tools. His “brute force governance,” characterized by personalized strongman rule, blame-shifting, and securitization, undermined the mechanisms of accountability. This enabled him to maintain public approval, despite the drug war’s failure to effectively address substance abuse and the ineffectiveness of widespread lockdowns in curbing the spread of the pandemic. Despite the highly illiberal nature of Duterte’s rule, he continued to claim democratic legitimacy based on competitive elections and high approval ratings, while adhering to constitutional norms. This undermined electoral opposition and weakened resistance from critical figures such as Catholic bishops, influential business groups, and civil society activists. According to Thompson, among the major strategic groups in the Philippines, only the military remained a significant check on Duterte’s power.

In conclusion, Thompson underscores how the “people power” narrative gradually lost credibility, as evidenced by the opposition’s resounding defeat in the 2022 elections, particularly with Marcos, Jr.’s victory. This outcome demonstrated the diminishing appeal of this discourse among the majority of Filipinos. The recent democratic backsliding in the Philippines serves as a cautionary tale about the failure of a liberal reformist project to improve the lives of ordinary people and fundamentally reshape the political system to reduce reliance on patronage, strengthen institutions, and mitigate political violence. Given Thompson’s assessment of Duterte’s election and his populist legacy as the latest iteration of a cyclical pattern in Philippine politics, this book represents a valuable contribution to the literature on populism.

 

Mark R. Thompson. The Philippines: From ‘People Power’ to Democratic Backsliding. As part of “Elements in Politics and Society in Southeast Asia.” (Cambridge University Press).  May 25, 2023. 86 pp. €21,24  ISBN: ‎ 1009398482. DOI: 10.1017/9781009398466  

TurkishMalaise

The Turkish Malaise – A Critical Essay

by ArticlesAuthoritarianismBook ReviewsEditor’s ChoiceHome

Girdap, Hafza. (2022). “The Turkish Malaise – A Critical Essay.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). April 6, 2022. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0012

 

Author Cengiz Aktar argues that Turkey is witnessed a victory of a non-democratic system—and the majority of society supports this transition. The regime consolidates its discriminatory, oppressive, autocratic politics by gaining the support of non-AKP constituents through the discourse of “native and national.” Thus, the situation in Turkey is not a simple deviation from the norm; it is a more complex socio-political conundrum. In other words, the regime represented by Recep Tayyip Erdogan, is not the reason for but the result of society’s mindset which is a reasonable part of the “Turkish malaise.” 

Reviewed by Hafza Girdap

Power holders claim power through different means such as traditions, religions, ideologies, and economic dynamics. And when these leaders consolidate their power, it becomes a necessity for them to keep that power. They want to eliminate even a tiny risk or threat. Drawing on the strongman concept in The Turkish Malaise – A Critical Essay Professor Cengiz Aktar highlights the impact of the end of Turkey’s European Union accession process, the return of political Islamism, the Gezi Park protests, and the December 2013 corruption investigation. These milestones mark the authoritarian turn in the Turkish regime, triggering threats that resulted in a crackdown on all opposition—not only political actors but also all dissidents regardless of their affiliations.

Laying out Turkey’s historical roots in the Ottoman Empire, and its fluctuating relations with Europe and the West, Aktar investigates the recent Turkish malaise, touching on these ongoing relations. At the end of the book, readers are provided with the insights of two prominent scholars: a sociologist, Nilufer Gole, and a historian, Etienne Copeaux, both of whom Aktar interviews.

Throughout the book, Aktar theorizes on three striking points to summarize the nature of Turkish authoritarianism. The first aspect is the mass support for the AKP and Recep Tayyip Erdogan. This support differs from historical examples, including the pre-1950, one-party era. Considering the fact that the AKP administration holds 30 percent of total votes, imposing their discourses, ideologies, and even injustices on the rest of society accommodates the regime’s oppressive nature. 

Secondly, the weakness of Turkey’s institutions plays a significant role in Turkish authoritarianism. The most apparent example is the “Turkish-style” presidential system which has almost no checks and balances. Aktra argues that almost all of Turkey’s institutions—judiciary, law enforcement, even Parliament—bow to the strongman and have become like sub-offices of one man. 

At a “book talk” event I attended, Professor Aktar stated that even in Russia, people are protesting Vladimir Putin and his war crimes. In Turkey, the only people standing up to Erdogan are women’s and feminist movements and those unjustly dismissed by emergency decrees following the supposed July 15th coup attempt. Yet these groups have not been sufficiently and efficiently united to make their voices more powerful. 

The last point Professor Aktar mentions is society’s (non)response to past persecutions, pogroms, and genocide. This, I believe, is where Aktar highlights and supports his proposition of a “Turkish malaise.” Aktar has stated that since such crimes against humanity—including the Armenian genocide—have been “swallowed” by the majority of Turkish society, Turkish authoritarianism has been nurtured and strengthened inherently by not only the leader(s) but also the people. Referring to Hannah Arendt’s theory of the masses, Aktar explains this phenomenon as the regime’s legitimacy, which is formed by the majoritarian constituency.  

Furthering his argument on the impact of mass support, Aktar asserts that Turkey is witnessing the victory of a non-democratic system with which a majority of the society agrees. The regime consolidates its discriminatory, oppressive, autocratic politics by gaining the support of non-AKP constituents, too, through the discourse of “native and national (yerli ve milli).” Thus, the situation in Turkey is not a simple deviation from the norm; it is a more complex socio-political conundrum. In other words, the regime represented by Recep Tayyip Erdogan, is not the reason for but the result of society’s mindset, which is a reasonable part of the “Turkish malaise.” 

In addition to the discussion of the relationship between authoritarianism and society’s content, Aktar also explores the de-westernization process—predominantly through the derailment of the EU accession process. As a well-known expert on EU-Turkey relations, Aktar defines this break as missing a golden opportunity for democratization. “Unmooring” from Europe has strengthened Erdogan’s move towards neo-Ottomanism as well as political Islam. In correspondence with feeding Turkish authoritarianism, institutional collapses due to “undemocratization” have been aggravated since the end of the accession process. This could be interpreted as the “last step towards the West,” one of the chapter titles in the book. The collapse of institutions has also aided Erdogan, allowing him to establish a monolithic, Islamist, nationalist discourse that eventually became an authoritarian regime. The most recent manifestations of Turkey’s dictatorial one-man rule are the conversion of Hagia Sophia to a mosque, the withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention (which provides protections for LGBTQ+ citizens), and the unconstitutional appointment of a regime-friendly president to Bogazici University, arguably Turkey’s finest university. 

Professor Aktar argues the Turkish malaise as linked to the West’s approach and describes this situation as “between misunderstanding and blind detachment, appeasement and complicity, containment and the fear of seeing this large country implode and disintegrate” (p. 66).

As a gender studies scholar, I would also like to touch on the gendered lens on the issue provided by Professor Nilufer Gole. Professor Gole problematizes the implications of two notions in her discussion: “mahrem” (sacred, private) and “meydan” (public). Even though the debate on the return of political Islam has mostly been based on the headscarf (veil) issue, and despite the regime’s oppressive and subjugating attitude towards women, conservative (pious) women have become more active politically and more visible in modern life, which makes them the “agents of change” in both their private and public lives. In other words, the notions of “mahrem” and “meydan” play a significant role in challenging their implications and realms. Gole describes this paradoxical turn as a challenge to patriarchy with preserved pious agency. “Meydan” also refers to the uprising in Gezi Park, in which masses from different segments of Turkish society protested against the Erdogan regime’s oppressive policies. In both referrals, “meydan” represents a resistance against political Islamist oppression. Gole argues that the “soul of contemporary Turkey” cannot be comprehended without “understanding the manifestations of mahrem and meydan which express both the malaise of modernity and its transcendence.” (p. 85)

To conclude, the Turkish malaise can be ascribed to both domestic issues and foreign relations and embodies immensely complicated concerns. Internally, a vicious correlation between the regime’s increasingly authoritarian tendencies entrenched with nationalistic and political Islamist proxies, and society’s belief in a national will and the notion of Turkey as a “blessed nation”—along with their pathetic contentment with the idea of a strongman—diminishes the chances of revitalizing democracy and democratic institutions. Externally, even if the gates are closed for Turkey to march to the West, “transactional” deals are still on the table, and this dilemma worsens the “malaise” for Europe, since relations relating to security issues and geopolitical necessities (e.g. refugee issues, economic interests, etc.) are still important.

The Turkish Malaise – A Critical Essay by Cengiz Aktar (Transnational Press London, 2021). 99 pp. £14,50 (Paperback), ISBN: 978-1-80135-076-1

Anti-vaccine activists protest outside Governor Andrew Cuomo's official residence in Albany, New York on June 14, 2020. Photo: Wirestock Creators.

The Great Recoil: Politics after Populism and the Pandemic 

by ArticlesBook ReviewsHome

Wolf, Maximilian. (2022). “The Great Recoil: Politics after Populism and the Pandemic.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. March 9, 2022. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0011

 

Paolo Gerbaudo’s Great Recoil presents a timely, wide-ranging and perspicacious, yet focused and detail-attentive summary of the present political conjuncture leading up to the Covid-19 pandemic, an incisive prognosis of the political terrain of the years that will follow it and offers a bold new approach to combating the illiberal populist discourse plaguing the West today — while laying the groundwork for the progressive transformations that need to replace it. 

Reviewed by Maximilian Wolf*

The Covid-19 pandemic has not been an easy time to be a populist. Those in power, whether it is Donald Trump in the United States, Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil, or Boris Johnson in the UK, quickly demonstrated the dangerous insufficiencies of populist governance — from corrupt PPE deals to unsubstantiated accusations against China and the peddling of dangerous conspiracy theories. Those still vying for influence in their respective democracies, meanwhile, were forced to change tactics as lockdown measures proved, overall, popular in most Western countries and new alliances with the ‘anti-vax’ crowd made for some strange bedfellows. 

Today, two years from its onset, the pandemic has ushered in some significant and lasting changes in populist discourse throughout the world; populist popularity has largely stabilized — Johnson and Bolsonaro, though weakened, remain in power, Trump lost his election but still received well over 74 million votes (the second highest tally ever, behind Biden’s 81 million) — but their reputation has, on the whole, been lastingly damaged by record case and death numbers, fiscal mismanagement and alarmist discourse regarding vaccines that has struggled to mobilize more than the most conspiratorial among their followers. For all its damage, Covid seems to have provided democracies with an overdue booster shot of healthy skepticism towards populist politics. 

The flipside of this coin, however, is that global politics (not least since the recent invasion of Ukraine by Russian forces) have remained in a state of prolonged crisis — and crises breed populists. The political landscape, especially in the liberal West where two years of strict distancing measures and curfews were met with the greatest resistance, has been irrevocably altered by Covid-19; unaccustomed to such degrees of political uncertainty, the ground remains rife for the populist seed to sprout. As Dr. Aline Burni noted on a recent panel for ECPS: “The impact of the pandemic [on populism] has not been homogeneous,” adding that prolonged crisis can “create new conditions and open up new discursive opportunities for populists.”

In The Great Recoil: Politics after Populism and the Pandemic (Verso, 2021), Paolo Gerbaudo of King’s College London has put forth a perspicacious and timely new take on what this post-Covid political landscape in the West might look like. His “diagnostic of the present” (Gerbaudo, Loc 105)[1] examines the most critical ideological shifts that characterized the ‘populist moment’ of the last decade, and how these currents will shift as we feel the aftershocks of the pandemic. In so doing, he not only introduces an intriguing new vocabulary to elucidate those macroscopic transformations that precipitated the rise of the populist wave of the 2010s but speculates on how the pandemic might — or might not — alter their course in the coming years. 

Gerbaudo’s core contention is that the era of unchallenged hegemony of the neoliberal consensus is over: already weakened and slowed down by successive crises, diminishing growth and growing disillusionment among working class voters throughout the West, the pandemic has brought the centrifugal, expansive tendencies of globalized capitalism to a grinding halt, triggering in its place a centripetal impulse, a reorientation inwards and the return of what he calls a “protective neo-Statism” (Gerbaudo, Loc 101) — Covid as a watershed moment, the birth of a new hegemonic era of endopolitics (Gerbaudo, Loc 179).

The Covid-19 pandemic and the attendant, heretofore unseen emergency measures mobilized in response to it — from closed borders to huge financial interventions as businesses faltered and millions were furloughed, to massive expansions of nation-state powers to control, track and surveil its citizens — constituted the perfect storm for the already embattled exopolitics of Western neoliberalism. Gerbaudo however explicitly affirms that, while Covid provided the “tipping point,” (Gerbaudo, Loc 764) the resonance of such inward-looking, nationalistic, and security-centered discourses has been steadily growing over at least the past decade — one need looks no further than the immensely successful slogan to ‘Take Back Control’ championed by the Brexit campaign years before the pandemic. While the growing salience of ‘illiberal’ and anti-globalization discourse is nothing new, Gerbaudo approaches it from a phenomenological angle, as he defines this era of the ‘Great Recoil’ as one characterized, above all, by a state of “global agoraphobia” (Gerbaudo, Loc 1129). This agoraphobia — the fear of open spaces — was already the driving force behind the endopolitical impulse which found its expression in the global popularity of authoritarian and nativist populist discourse. 

As this agoraphobia is experienced, it manifests itself in the three triadic ‘master signifiers’ that, in Gerbaudo’s view, already anchor and delimit the endopolitics of the Great Recoil: sovereignty, protection and control (Gerbaudo, Chapters 3, 4 and 5). He dives deep into the origin, genealogy and contemporary inflection of each of the three terms over the course of three chapters, and outlines their relation to the current sociopolitical conjuncture, arguing that, so far, only the populist right has effectively moulded its discourse to match this neo-Statist impulse. 

Whether it is Brexit, Le Pen, Salvini, or Trump: Gerbaudo locates the origin of their recent popularity in their ability to recognize the growing salience of endopolitical (or anti-exopolitical) discourse and articulate it in reference to an excluded “Other” — be it immigrants, the European Union or the ‘cabal.’ In line with the recent ‘affective turn’ in the literature on populism, Gerbaudo thus views populist popularity as in large part determined by their ability to inflect their discourse in relation to the master signifiers that emerge out of collective emotional experiences; in the era of global agoraphobia, the discourse promising to ‘take back control,’ re-establish borders and protect its citizens proved a powerful discursive tool, particularly among working-class voters and those who felt left behind by the liberal exopolitics of the last 50 years. 

Importantly, however, it must be borne in mind that these master signifiers are not a priori reserved for right-wing, exclusionary discourse: populist left actors, like Syriza or Podemos in Europe — and albeit nowhere near as successfully as its counterpart — have also managed to penetrate a largely similar bloc of alienated voters employing a globalization-critical and anti-capitalist discourse surrounding economic and social security and democratic control — in Gerbaudo’s terms, a “socialism that protects” (Gerbaudo, Loc 267). Although the content of their endopolitics differs strongly, both have tapped into the same rising disillusionment with the globalized exopolitics of the neoliberal center while articulating their resistance in different ways. In this view, the populist moment was just the democratic expression of this growing agoraphobia related to the demand for sovereignty, protection, and control, with different populisms simply representing differing ways of inflecting this “neo-statist trinity” of signifiers within the same social context (Gerbaudo, Loc 4203).

For Gerbaudo, this presents an opportunity. Looking to the future, the second half of his book applies its discourse analysis to develop strategic insights for a progressive politics in the neo-statist era of the Great Recoil. The centripetal impulse, cemented by the ‘return to the nation-state’ we have witnessed throughout the pandemic, is here to stay; rather than rejecting national politics out of hand — as the orthodoxy of internationalist progressivism has largely maintained — Gerbaudo’s final chapter aims to re-situate the question of the nation within the progressive discourse of tomorrow. He argues for a “progressive reclaiming” of nationalist terminology as a way to hegemonically combat its capture by the right-wing ethno-nationalist imaginary (Gerbaudo, Loc 3795). Although his notion of a “democratic patriotism” as a way to “overcome the false opposition” between modern cosmopolitanism and a retrograde nationalism remains opaque, Gerbaudo makes a strong and convincing case for a deepening and reinvigoration of democratic processes and the re-articulation of the nation as a “protective structure” as the means of embedding the master signifiers of protection, sovereignty and control at the heart of a progressive discourse suited for the challenges of the post-Covid era (Gerbaudo, Loc 4000).

Overall, Gerbaudo’s Great Recoil presents a timely, wide-ranging and perspicacious, yet focused and detail-attentive summary of the present political conjuncture leading up to the Covid-19 pandemic, an incisive prognosis of the political terrain of the years that will follow it and offers a bold new approach to combating the illiberal populist discourse plaguing the West today — while laying the groundwork for the progressive transformations that need to replace it. 

The Great Recoil: Politics after Populism and the Pandemic by Paolo Gerbaudo (Verso, 2021). 288 pp. £13,59 (Hardback), ISBN: 9781788730501 

(*) Maximilian Wolf, MPhil, is an intern at the European Center for Populism Studies. Maximilian was born and raised in Vienna, Austria. After receiving his BA in Politics at the University of Exeter (UK), he completed his MPhil in Political Sociology at St. Edmund’s College, University of Cambridge (UK). His work has focussed on discourse analyses of both right- and left-wing populist phenomena, and an abridged version of his Master’s thesis, entitled Locating the Laclausian Left: Progressive Strategy and the Politics of Anxiety, has been accepted for publication in issue 3/2022 of the Interdisciplinary Journal of Populism (forthcoming). Besides ECPS, Maximilian now works for a governance think-tank in Vienna. Beyond populism, he is passionate about health and fitness, rugby, chess and science fiction. 

[1] Gerbaudo’s book is, at the time of writing, only available in eBook format; the present review will therefore have to rely on Kindle ‘locations’ in place of page numbers.

A young African woman hugging a white northern woman after a protest. Photo: Sabrina Bracher.

Nice White Ladies: The Truth about White Supremacy, Our Role in It, and How We Can Help Dismantle It 

by Book ReviewsECPS YouthEditor’s ChoiceHomeVoice of Youth

In her book, Jessie Daniels deconstructs whiteness and scrutinizes individuals’ contributions to and relationships with it, making “Nice White Ladies” an excellent work of literature for those who understand that the practice of anti-racism cannot be disentangled from self-work. However much one may already know about the subject matter, Daniels’ confronting, academic, and personal approach will surely provide her readers with fresh insights.    

Reviewed by Shirin Ananda Dias*

In her book “Nice White Ladies,” Jessie Daniels deconstructs white womanhood and details how it is historically and culturally linked to the inter-generational perpetuation of everyday, systemic, and institutional racism by white women in both the United Kingdom (UK) and, most notably, in the United States (US). Both by drawing on existent literature on race, gender, cultural and blackness studies and by giving detailed ethnographic and personal examples, Daniels details how white women – often with good intentions – contribute to the cycle of racism and demonstrates their complicity in the infliction of everyday micro-aggressions on communities of color. 

Although the book is largely a cultural critique, it also serves as a “self-help book” for those seeking to break free from the toxic chains of whiteness, which inflict pain and suffering not only upon BIPOC (black, indigenous, people of color), but also upon white women and their families, through generational guilt and self-destructive defense mechanisms transmitted throughout decades. The book’s six chapters take the reader through Daniels’ personal and academic journeys, zeroing in on her experiences with white womanhood and racism throughout her life and academic career. She furthermore provides the reader with alternative constructive modes of ‘being white’ in a diverse and multicultural society.

In the first chapter of the book Daniels places white womanhood in historical context and lays bare, through a cultural and historical lens, how and why white women often feel threatened by and entitled to protection from the ‘other.’ Without vilifying the ‘Karens’ of today’s society, Daniels details how their (sometimes subconscious) feelings of white supremacy, entitlement to protection, and (lethal) power over the ‘other’, are surviving legacies of the colonial period. Within white supremacist society, black men were often lynched to protect white women –the underlying sentiment has survived through generations, resulting in instances of modern-day women weaponizing their white womanhood by using police and law enforcement against BIPOC. Daniels hereby demonstrates and emphasizes how white women’s actions perpetuate colonial cultural legacies to this day, and how they are consequently beneficiaries of colonialism and slavery.

In chapter two, Daniels illustrates how white feminists on both the left and right of the political spectrum tend to perpetrate and exacerbate racial inequalities through their supposedly universal and neutral feminist activism. From the pink pussy hats to the #metoo movement and other movements aiming for women’s liberation and “equal representation, compensation and power in the public sphere as men” (Daniels, 2021: 86), Daniels shows that these movements for women’s rights are far from universally inclusive. On the contrary, these feminist movements tend to engage in gender-only, (neoliberal) feminism that is oblivious to white privilege, race, and institutionalized racism (as well as other relevant intersections). Daniels therefore criticizes so-called liberal feminists on their lack of intersectionality and calls for the inclusion of critical race theory in feminist activism with the objective of the liberation of all women.

In chapter three, “The Shallow Promise of the Wellness Industry,” Daniels shows how women are targeted by all sorts of ‘self-care’ trends – clean eating, skincare products, yoga, mindfulness – which promise fulfillment and inner peace in a capitalist society.  In one sense, these trends are shallow in their failure to deliver true fulfillment; in fact, their intertwinement with the capitalist system ensures that fulfillment is ever out of reach. Daniels, however, focuses on a different source of shallowness: namely, that purveyors of the wellness industry create white-only spaces, and construct a specific normative identity, namely the white-hetero-lady who is in need of care. In creating and orienting itself around this identity, the wellness industry excludes communities of color and obscures the reasons for their struggles. Wellness is portrayed as a product for consumption, instead of something that is contingent upon larger structural issues like systemic racism and poverty.  Daniels also touches upon the wellness industry’s self-help books and criticizes renowned authors such as Brené Brown, for her work’s blindness to whiteness and white-shame, and Eat-Pray-Love author Elizabeth Gilbert, for romanticizing her soul-seeking journey to India without reflecting upon the white privilege that afforded her the means leave everything behind, travel, and ‘find herself.’ 

Chapters four and five discuss identity and kinship. In chapter four, “Love and Theft,” Daniels investigates the psychological and cultural reasons behind certain white women’s appropriation of BIPOC identities. Here Daniels discusses female academics such as Rachel Dolezal and Jessica Krug. She argues that it is the underlying emptiness that resides in whiteness, and, furthermore, white guilt, which drive white women to appropriate non-white identities, so that they can be seen and heard, or to deal with the psychological trauma of being white. Daniels furthermore details how white women, through ‘blackfishing’ or appropriating indigenous Cherokee identities, become the beneficiaries of policies like affirmative action, whereby their successes rest on the backs of those communities who need those policies most. 

Not all white women deal with whiteness and white guilt in the same way as the Rachel Dolezals of the world. Daniels shows how many white women engage in white saviorism in order to assuage their white guilt. An example she discusses is the adoption of BIPOC children by white families, where an undercurrent of white saviorism can perpetuate microaggressions towards communities of color, with the indirect message being that white mothers are more capable of motherhood. As is furthermore shown in the chapter “Protecting White Families,” white women often engage in practices that benefit white families and disadvantage communities of color, by raising their adopted children in a “color blind”, household, rather than a “color aware” one, thereby implicitly downplaying racism’s existence. One’s own contribution to and participation in cyclical institutionalized racism and racial segregation often goes unnoticed; well-meaning and protective mothers, who accumulate wealth within their white families and shield their children from education in multi-racial settings, which Daniels coins as the “new Jim Crow,” seem unaware of the implications of their actions. In all examples, from white women physically protecting their homes with guns from Black Lives Matter demonstrators to those well-meaning women who accumulate wealth and education for their white families, Daniels emphasizes and illustrates how white families are “one of the most powerful forces of reproducing white supremacy” (Daniels, 2021: 193). 

In the last chapter, “The Lie that is Killing All of Us,” Daniels details, through myriad examples of mental health cases (including her own mother’s), how whiteness not only poses a lethal threat to communities of color, but, even more so, how it threatens white communities. She argues that although white people are the beneficiaries of white supremacy (in that they have, for example, greater access to healthcare than communities of color do), white communities are also plagued by higher rates of depression than communities of color, and increasing addiction, mortality, and suicide rates. Daniels illustrates how nice white ladies suffer under the burden of white guilt. Building on this, Daniels exemplifies the impact white guilt has on the individual and collective health of white people and communities. In this vein, Daniels demonstrates how feelings of emptiness – inherent to whiteness – are often the root cause for infliction of harm of others, and for self-destructive behavior. 

In the concluding section, Daniels refers back to previous chapters and provides the reader with detailed methods to develop an alternate, more constructive and justform of whiteness and white womanhood. Jessie Daniels herself strives to be “white without going white, to not take up all the space, to swerve away from the supremacy of whiteness” (Daniels, 2021: 234). The suggested liberators methods include, for example, rethinking social relationships with people who actively participate in the oppression of BIPOC, giving agency to women of color, and being their accomplice in dismantling white supremacy, amongst many other suggestions.

A potential critique of the book is that certain argumentations are rather reductionist, such as Daniels’ proclamations that the Kardashians’ cultural appropriation derives from their white guilt, or that the suicide of a white health worker during COVID-19 was motivated by the burden of white survival guilt. This is where Daniels draws hasty conclusions and appears to disregard the complexity of the human psyche despite her background in critical social psychology. Although I concur that there lays trauma in whiteness, not all behavior is necessarily attributable to whiteness and its discontents. 

Despite this criticism, the book does insightfully deconstruct whiteness and scrutinizes individuals’ contributions to and relationships with it, making “Nice White Ladies” an excellent work of literature for those who understand that the work of anti-racism cannot be disentangled from self-work. However much one may already know about the subject matter, Daniels’ confronting, academic, and personal approach will surely provide her readers with fresh insights.  It is a work that I would highly recommend to both academics and laymen seeking to understand the complexities of white womanhood and racism. I would especially recommend the book to white women, as no matter how “woke” one might be, there might be a “Nice White Lady, whether big or small, in all of us.

Jessie Daniels, Nice White Ladies: The Truth about White Supremacy, Our Role in It, and How We Can Help Dismantle It, Seal Press, 2021, 304 pp., $28, ISBN: 9781541675865

(*) Shirin Ananda Dias is an alumna of SOAS university London, where she obtained her bachelor’s degree in Social Anthropology. Her two main regions of academic interest are the Middle East and South Asia, where she indulges in political anthropology focusing on ethnic and religious nationalism and populism in the broader framework of globalization and contemporary international relations. She is currently enrolled in the MA program “Social and Cultural Anthropology” at the University of Amsterdam where she is finishing writing her master dissertation on the expression of Hindu nationalism in right wing Hindu nationalist Facebook groups during the COVID-19 pandemic. 


People passing by portraits of Mustafa Kemal Ataturk and Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Istanbul, Turkey on December 28, 2015.

Creating the Desired Citizen: Ideology, State and Islam in Turkey

by AuthoritarianismBook ReviewsEditor’s ChoiceHomePROGRAMS

Demir, Mustafa, (2022). “Creating the Desired Citizen: Ideology, State and Islam in Turkey by Ihsan Yilmaz.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). February 17, 2022. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0008

 

Ihsan Yılmaz’s new book presents a detailed analysis of Turkey’s political and sociological evolution, from the country’s anxious birth as a “fearful nation,” preoccupied and weighed down by historical traumas to the present. Yılmaz’s study provides a detailed account of the polity’s “never-ending” nation-building process and offers keen insights into why this process is intransient. His book highlights the political nature of defining citizens as either “desired,” “tolerated,” or “undesired” and the way this definitional process functions as a tool in hegemonic rivalries between “political tribes” in polities such as Turkey.

Reviewed by Mustafa Demir

Ihsan Yılmaz is Research Professor and Chair of Islamic Studies and Intercultural Dialogue at the Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation. In his most recent book Creating the Desired Citizen: Ideology, State, and Islam in Turkey, published with Cambridge University Press in 2021, Yılmaz presents a highly detailed analysis of modern Turkish history. Not only does this engaging book provide fresh insights into the emergence and development of modern Turkish political culture, but also a new theoretical framework that incorporates emotions into the sociological analysis in a highly innovative way. Each chapter is arguably worthy of its own book-length treatment, and Yılmaz’s ability to cover much ground in a single monograph is commendable.

The scholarship on Turkey, especially on its emergence and its process of nation-building, provides a fascinating case study for social and political scientists. This is reflected in the vast literature on the case, with thousands of theses, articles, and books written on this very topic. Nevertheless, gaps in our understanding remain. One such gap, I believe, is the incomplete and controversial nature of Turkey’s nation-building project. Contested efforts in this regard have created pronounced political and ideological fault-lines in Turkish society. The nature of Turkey’s political process has kept this historical dynamic intact; it is not merely a research subject but rather an enduring game of political brinkmanship. In this game, those wielding power all too often point to those on the other side as “undesired citizens.” 

Against this backdrop, Yılmaz weaves his own personal story through the narrative in this weighty (in terms of both coverage and impact) book. In so doing, he critically reflects on the emotional aspects of the political decisions and socio-political “transitions” that have roiled his homeland. Yet Yılmaz’s critical reflection gives the book a crucial degree of objectivity, allowing him to transcend his own experience and reach out to (and draw on) other, often divergent, scholarly perspectives on Turkish political developments and decisions. This is well reflected in the book’s diverse bibliography (As those familiar with Turkish academia will know, the field is characterized by sharp divisions—even tribalism—with tribes forming virtual “citation cartels” that prefer to explore contentious social and political developments only through the lenses they feel comfortable with, making no attempt to understand one another).

A New Frame to Analyze Turkish Political History

As mentioned, Yılmaz deftly instrumentalizes his personal story in developing a novel framework to map many of the key socio-political “transitions” in Turkey. The first such transition —to Kemalist secularism — is one Yılmaz encountered when he became “a religiously observant [university student] in a staunchly laicist state that was not comfortable with religious expression in the public sphere.” Yılmaz then frames Turkey’s transition to Erdoğanist Islamism through the lens of his own experience as a university professor teaching students from all segments of Turkish society. As an academic and columnist, Yılmaz wrote many articles in daily newspapers in Turkey criticizing the Islamist AKP government in power after 2003. He was fired from his university position due to growing government pressure in early 2016.

At first glance, Kemalism and Erdoğanism appear antithetical, one staunchly secular, the other avowedly Islamist. However, Yılmaz demonstrates that they are connected by a central element they share — a commitment to Turkish nationalism. Drawing once again upon his personal history, Yılmaz recounts how he awoke only later in life to the exclusive, illiberal, sharp, and destructive nature of Turkish nationalism through his experiences and observations during his years as a university lecturer between 2008 and 2016.

Indeed, Yılmaz’s role as an educator is highly salient since education — or, more precisely, its role in nation-building — is a through-line across the book. In the preface, Yılmaz references another book, Füsun Ustel’s “Makbul Vatandaş” ın Peşinde (In Pursuit of the “Acceptable Citizen”), published in 2004. Ustel’s book focuses on how education was instrumentalized in building a nation in the initial period of the Kemalist Republic of Turkey. As he highlights, Ustel’s book inspired him to tie his story, experiences, observations, and travails to the story of Turkish politics and political history.

Yılmaz builds on Ustel’s insights but takes the matter further, looking not only at education but other sectors such as religion and media. While Ustel’s work focuses more on the Kemalist mission of re-dressing and creating an “acceptable” model of modern citizenship via education, Yılmaz’s work focuses more on the political and hegemonic aspects beyond the early Kemalist mission of modernization. It is also important to highlight that Yılmaz treats the notion of “desirable” as dynamic and in transition. Thus, the definition of “desired citizens” is political and highly changeable. Yılmaz also introduces two new terms, “tolerated” and “undesired” citizens. These additional categories allow him to avoid the trap of dichotomizing, familiar in much Turkish, scholarship and provide a subtle degree of analytical flexibility that opens up space for exploring “gray zones” in between the desirable and the undesirable. Thus, he is able to show how changing political landscapes bring shifts in how these definitions are applied to one kind of Turkish group or another, as observed during the transition from Kemalism to Erdoğanism. Yılmaz also highlights the Erdoğanist attempt to redefine what is a “desired citizen” in Turkey. In doing so, he provides not only fresh insight but a robust new conceptual framework to analyze the uncompleted process of nation-building in Turkey.

A further appeal of the book is its approach to Turkish political history, which appears very close to Erik Zurcher’s. Like Zurcher, Yılmaz does not separate political and historical periods sharply; rather, he focuses on the ‘transitions,’ highlighting how even as the new emerges, it draws heavily on what has gone before. For example, distinct from the established view on modern Turkish political history — which rehearses the idea of a radical break with the past in the establishment of the Turkish Republic in 1923 — Zurcher’s account presents Turkey as always, already in transition, in a continuous process of evolution. Here, elements of the Ottoman past were brought through into the Kemalist Republic, whose core elements were also retained, to a greater or lesser extent, in later transitions to multi-party democracy and through into the present. Similar to this approach, Yılmaz’s account considers Erdoğanism less a radical break than yet another transition in a long historical process of social and political change.

What Sets Yılmaz’s Account Apart?

The book is structured around the concept of citizenship, which, rather than being treated as a legal definition, is taken as a dynamic concept responsive to hegemonic movements within the polity. As the title of the book suggests, creating desired citizens is unthinkable without its obverse: eliminating undesired elements. Thus, the book is equally, if not more, a story of undesired citizens. Again, however, Yılmaz’s frame is not black and white. Creating the Desired Citizen, as mentioned, establishes the category of “tolerated” citizens, alongside desired and undesired ones.

Providing a synopsis of the chapters in this book is difficult as each one is complex and polysemic enough to warrant a book of its own. It seems more productive, then, to conceive of this book in its entirety as a corpus of Turkey’s modern history. Beginning with the ontological insecurities shaping the political culture and guiding the strategic mind of the founding elite in the first chapter, the second traces the roots of these anxieties through history, providing a “thick description” of the historical context in which these anxieties and insecurities were born. The following three chapters examine the core components of Kemalism and its conception of the desired/ideal Turkish citizen, followed by an interrogation of the changing identity of desired and undesired citizens as Kemalism itself changed. The second half of the book then follows this approach in dealing with Erdoğanism—its rise, hegemonic move to power, and attempt to define its own desired, tolerated, and undesired citizens.

In a nutshell, this book presents a detailed analysis of Turkey’s political and sociological evolution, from the country’s anxious birth as a “fearful nation,” preoccupied and weighed down by historical traumas, to the present. Yılmaz’s study provides a detailed account of the polity’s “never-ending” nation-building process and offers keen insights into why this process is intransient. His book highlights the political nature of defining citizens as either “desired,” “tolerated,” or “undesired” and the way this definitional process functions as a tool in hegemonic rivalries between “political tribes” in polities such as Turkey.

Creating the Desired Citizen: Ideology, State, and Islam in Turkey by Ihsan Yılmaz, Cambridge University Press, 2021, 250 pp., $80.19 (hardcover), ISBN: ‎978-1108832557

English Defence League (EDF) stages a rally to protest the "Islamisation" of the UK in Birmingham on April 8, 2017. Photo: Alexandre Rotenberg.

Liberal Roots of Far Right Activism – The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century

by Book ReviewsEditor’s ChoiceGenderHome

Girdap, Hafza. (2022). “Liberal Roots of Far Right Activism – The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). January 24, 2022. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0007

 

Lars Erik Berntzen aims to probe the growth of far-right and anti-Islamic twist in Western Europe and North America since 2001 through his book “Liberal roots of Far Right Activism – The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century” by focusing on a specific context in terms of spatial and temporal meanings. According to his book, through “framing Islam as a homogenous, totalitarian ideology which threatens Western civilization” far-right seems to abandon the old, traditional, radical, authoritarian attitude towards a more liberal, modern, rights-based strategy. 

Reviewed by Hafza Girdap

Focusing on a specific context in terms of spatial and temporal meanings, Lars Erik Berntzen aims to probe the growth of far-right and anti-Islamic twist in Western Europe and North America since 2001 through his book Liberal roots of Far Right Activism: The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century.

The book sheds a light on the shift from a positive approach to an adversary attitude towards Islam and Muslims following the 9/11 terrorist attacks in the United States in 2001. Highlighting the transnational impact of these incidents, Berntzen delves into anti-Islamic activism conducted by pioneering movements and political parties in Europe, such as Stop Islamization, Defense League, Patriotic Europeans against the Islamization of the West (PEGIDA), Dutch Pin Fortuyn List (LPF) and Geert Wilders’ Freedom Party (PVV). The author also draws attention to the hypocrisy of far-right politicians and activists who portray themselves as liberals to avoid stigmatization by using certain discourses of human rights as proxies to exploit anti-Islamic agendas. As a very convenient issue, women’s and gender-based rights are claimed by Marine Le Pen of the National Rally (FN), for instance, to “denigrate Muslim men” (Berntzen, 2020: 2). 

Laying out the background of the book, Berntzen states his research questions in the first chapter. The initial purpose is to explore the background of leaders, their official ideology, organizational networks, and the mobilization of sympathizers. In order to conduct such a research, he also presents four steps. First, he focuses on “tracing evolution of anti-Islamic expansion between 2001 and 2017” specifically in Britain, the US, Netherlands, Germany, Norway and Denmark. Subsequently, a frame analysis of eleven anti-Islamic initiatives from Norway, Britain and Germany is raised covering the time period of 2010-2016. His third step in this research is a network analysis of those anti-Islamic initiatives. And finally, the book investigates mobilization of anti-Islamic groups “that were active during the summer of 2016.” 

Berntzen’s overall finding which he shares in the first chapter is that a significant change is observed within the approach of far right towards Islam and Muslims. He explains such a change as a shift from authoritarian and ethnocentric to a modern, liberal, and transnational anti-Islamic activism. In other words, far right takes on a liberal attitude and appearance by a “transformation as a partial decoupling between authoritarianism and the radical right through an adoption of liberal positions on many issues” such as free speech, democracy, gender equality, animal rights, preservation of Christian and Jewish heritage. However, the author addresses this situation as an ideological duality considering the view of Islam as a threat to Western civilization along with the profiles of anti-Islamic activists and politicians. Hege Storhaug, a Norwegian feminist activist, is given an example of aforesaid hypocrisy since she aligns with Hungarian politician Viktor Orban’s and the Polish Law and Justice Party’s policies which do certainly not prioritize gender equality and gender-based rights. 

As a scholar focusing on identity representations of Muslim immigrant women in Europe and North America, Berntzen’s work stood out to me in terms of drawing on the most influential concepts on identity formation in resettlements of Muslim immigrants: Islamophobia, anti-Islam and anti-Muslim. The way he differentiates these concepts through the social movement theory is also striking since framing and mobilization play an important role in identity politics. As far as I am concerned, Islamophobia represents an irrational, emotional fear; whereas, the author argues, anti-Islam refers to the “shift the theoretical focus from reaction to action, in line with the agency-oriented perspective dominant in social movement analysis” (Berntzen, 2020: 38). At this point, inclusion of liberal positions which portrays Islam as an existential threat to Western civilization and as an ideology not compatible with democratic and progressive issues; anti-Islam justifies and legitimizes transnational mobilization of far-right organizations. Among the most influential discourses of this liberal far-right are women’s rights, LGBTQ rights and their perception in Islamic tradition. Berntzen maps the ideology of anti-Islamic far-right combining with not only the expansion of collective action and networks but also with party politics. While doing so, he draws on both international critical incidents such as 9/11 terror attacks and Prophet Muhammed cartoon crisis and local incidents to demonstrate the anti-Islamic expansion of the far-right in different contexts and circumstances. 

To sum up; Liberal Roots of Far Right Activism – The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century scrutinizes anti-Islamic ideology and movements of far-right by diving into distinctive conceptualization of Islamophobia, anti-Muslim and anti-Islam. Claiming it to be an ideological duality, the author of the book highlights that anti-Islamic far right posits a semi-liberal worldview and action towards Islam presenting it to be incompatible with modernity, human rights and liberal issues. In other words, by “framing Islam as a homogenous, totalitarian ideology which threatens Western civilization” (Berntzen, 2021: 11) far right seems to abandon the old, traditional, radical, authoritarian attitude towards a more liberal, modern, rights-based strategy. Such a strategy, seemingly, focuses on more the ideology (Islam) rather than the individuals (identities). As he puts in several parts of the book while explaining why he favors “anti-Islam” concept rather than “anti-Muslim” and “Islamophobia”; this distinction represents the new transnational anti-Islamic movement to be transforming from ethnic based nationalism, oppressive authoritarianism which focuses on Muslims towards a liberal position which promotes equality, justice and democratic values putting an ideological standpoint forward.

 

 Liberal Roots of Far Right Activism – The Anti-Islamic Movement in the 21st Century, By Lars Erik Berntzen, Routledge, 2020. 228 pp., £27.99 (paperback), ISBN: 9780367224660