Dr. DB Subedi is a leading scholar of peace and conflict studies at the University of Queensland, Australia.

Dr. DB Subedi Warns: Transitional Nepal May Face Real Dangers from Rising Religious Populism

“Transitional Nepal may face real dangers from rising religious populism,” cautions Dr. DB Subedi, lecturer in Peace and Conflict Studies at the University of Queensland, in an interview with the ECPS. While the September 2025 youth-led uprising signaled a break with entrenched corruption, nepotism, and elite capture, Dr. Subedi warns that Nepal’s weak secularism leaves space for actors seeking to reinstate Hindu statehood. Such a trajectory, he argues, risks fusing populist nationalism with sectarian identity—posing a greater threat than conventional elite dominance. Yet he also sees in Gen Z’s unprecedented mobilization the embryonic signs of a participatory, post-elitist democracy. Much depends, he stresses, on whether Nepal’s interim government can ensure a smooth, accountable transition to elections.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

“Transitional Nepal may face real dangers from rising religious populism,” warns Dr. DB Subedi, a leading scholar of peace and conflict studies at the University of Queensland, Australia. In an exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Subedi argues that while Nepal’s September 2025 uprising carries the seeds of a more participatory, post-elitist democracy, the country also risks sliding into a form of exclusionary right-wing politics. Having been the world’s only Hindu state until 2015, Nepal is now formally secular but only weakly so in practice. Everyday political life continues to be saturated with religion, leaving space for political actors and interest groups who seek to reinstate Hindu statehood. In Dr. Subedi’s assessment, this trajectory could open the door to religious populism—an outcome more dangerous than other forms of elite capture because it fuses populist nationalism with sectarian identity.

Yet, Dr. Subedi stresses, the September uprising cannot be reduced to a story of risks alone. It is also a product of deep structural inequalities, socioeconomic stagnation, and the frustrations of a digitally native generation. What began as a protest against the Oli government’s ban on 26 social media platforms quickly crystallized into a mass youth-led revolt against corruption, nepotism, and elite reproduction. The protests were unprecedented in scale, non-hierarchical in organization, and notable for their broad public legitimacy. Dr. Subedi sees in this horizontal mobilization the embryonic forms of a post-elitist democracy, rooted less in patronage or coercion and more in inclusive participation.

Placing Nepal within a wider regional frame, Dr. Subedi draws parallels with Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya (2022) and Bangladesh’s anti-quota protests (2024). Across these South Asian contexts, the drivers are strikingly similar: generational exclusion from politics, widening socioeconomic inequality, and a pervasive sense of injustice. In each case, social media functioned both as a catalyst and as connective tissue, transforming diffuse frustrations into coordinated movements. Yet Nepal’s fragile secularism makes it particularly vulnerable to the instrumentalization of religion by authoritarian populists, as has been evident in Bangladesh.

For Dr. Subedi, the stakes of the coming months are therefore clear. Much depends on whether the interim civilian government—tasked with organizing elections within six months under the leadership of former Chief Justice Sushila Karki—can ensure a smooth, legitimate transfer of power. The challenge lies not only in delivering credible elections but also in holding past regimes accountable for corruption and abuses of power, while simultaneously preventing a populist-nationalist hijack of the transitional moment.

In the conversation that follows, Dr. Subedi provides a detailed analysis of Nepal’s September uprising, reflecting on its social, economic, and political roots, situating it in the broader South Asian context, and sounding a critical warning about the dangers of religious populism in Nepal’s fragile democracy.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. DB Subedi, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

A Revolution Born of Structural Inequalities and a Youth Bulge

Nepal Protests 2025 — Demonstrators, largely Gen Z, rally against the government’s ban on 26 social media platforms, including WhatsApp, Instagram, and Facebook. Police presence and Nepalese flags marked the nationwide unrest. Photo: Tetiana Strilchuk.

Professor Subedi, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Analysts describe the September 2025 uprising as a Gen Z revolution, yet youth mobilization in Nepal has a long genealogy. From your perspective, what specific social, economic, and political configurations enabled this generation to rupture the cycle of elite reproduction where earlier movements failed?

Dr. DB Subedi: Thank you so much, I am very happy to be here talking to you about protests in Nepal. As you mentioned, Nepal has experienced different cycles of revolutions in the past. In particular, I would like to highlight two peaceful revolutions that at one point turned violent—those of 1990 and 2006. In between, Nepal also endured Maoist revolutions lasting 10 years, a very violent civil war. This current youth uprising, however, primarily led by Gen Z in Nepal, is driven by a number of structural and systemic issues. In fact, the protests, which began on 7th September, were directed against what protesters identified as corruption, elitism, and the lack of generational change in Nepal’s politics. 

These are much larger structural and systemic issues, driven primarily by three interrelated factors. First, on the economic front: despite Nepal having undergone shifts in political systems in the past—most notably in 2015, when the country transformed from a constitutional monarchy to a federal republic (a decision made in 2008 but further institutionalized with the drafting of new constitution in 2015)—this was indeed a massive political shift. However, when it comes to economic change, Nepal still has a long way to go. Economic and developmental stagnation persists, and the institutions created and re-strengthened after the 2015 constitution have failed to provide meaningful incentives to the broader population, especially young people.

Rather, what we have seen over the past two decades is a deepening of socioeconomic inequalities in the country. These economic factors are further compounded by political and social ones. Politically, even though Nepal has gone through different cycles of democratization, most major parties lack intra-party democratization, as political leadership has not been passed on to younger generations. Thus, there is both a lack of internal party democracy and a lack of generational shift within political parties. At the same time, there are numerous examples of elite capture and domination of the economic and productive sectors, producing what we call cronyism. Nepal has recently experienced a particular form of cronyism that emerged through a nexus between economic elites and political elites.

And the third, social dimension is particularly important in relation to this recent youth revolution. Looking at demographic figures in Nepal over the past decades, we can observe a youth bulge pattern, meaning that a large proportion of the population consists of young people. This demographic trend creates vulnerable conditions for revolutions to emerge.

In a nutshell, the economic, social, and political factors came together and produced structural conditions and political opportunity structures on which this recent youth uprising and revolution have taken place in Nepal.

Gen Z Turns Precarity into Protest

A Nepali farmer at work in a rural field during the monsoon season. As the rains arrive, farmers across Nepal become busy in their fields, though most still rely on traditional farming techniques. Photo: Shishir Gautam.

Nepal’s youth today confront what might be called a triple disjuncture: mass migration, precarious labor markets, and the expansion of the digital public sphere. How do these dynamics intersect to produce a new political subjectivity that resists both elite capture and authoritarian closure?

Dr. DB Subedi: Mass migration and precarious labor markets are, in fact, deeply interconnected. While this is true in other contexts as well, in the case of Nepal the interconnections are much more significant. Moreover, these are not new issues. At one level, there is a trade-off between political elites and the people at large, especially young people, when it comes to migration, because political elites have viewed mass migration as a source of remittances—income sent home by those working overseas, particularly in labor migration. But from a political perspective, this has also functioned as a tactic of social control. When the young population is displaced from the country and moves abroad, only the elderly and very young remain in society. Such a society, from a political point of view, is easier to control, since politicians and elites at both national and local levels face far less political opposition, especially from young people. This trend has persisted for a long time and, as I mentioned earlier, has coincided with the rise of a crony-led economy that has grown exponentially in recent years.

For young people who have migrated and are working in extreme conditions in the Middle East and elsewhere, it is a sort of double-edged sword. On one hand, they see overseas employment and labor migration as a way to support and look after their families. But at the same time, there is also a sense of missing out on engaging in social and political activities locally. This was the situation for about 20–25 years. With the rise of social media and digital platforms in the age of the internet, however, we have also seen the emergence of transnational political activism. Now, even if young people have migrated and been away, they can engage in discussions about the politics of their homeland through social media. This kind of transnational political activism, facilitated by digital platforms, has also been a contributing factor in generating support for youth activism in Nepal.

You mentioned the precarious situations. In fact, among younger generations there is also the perception that a remittance-led economy is very inconsistent. It is not sustainable, as it largely depends on the economies of migrant-receiving countries. Recently, we have seen that young people are increasingly interested in exploring opportunities within the country rather than migrating overseas for short- or long-term employment. As a result, economic conditions in the country have been very precarious, with lands left uncultivated for a long time, especially in the hills and other areas. There are also villages where young people have been absent for years. This has affected the demographic configuration of the country as much as its economic configuration. Altogether, these factors contribute to a sense of vulnerability, and among young people, there is a growing urgency for social, political, and economic change. The September protest was an expression of that urgency for social change, which political parties and elites have so far failed to deliver.

A Tactical Blunder and an Authoritarian Reflex

Many Nepali citizens join Gen Z–led protests in Bhojpur, Nepal on September 9, 2025, showing solidarity with nationwide demonstrations. Photo: Dipesh Rai.

The ban on social media is often cited as the immediate spark of revolt. Should this be understood as a mere tactical blunder by Oli’s government, or as symptomatic of a deeper authoritarian reflex embedded within Nepal’s ruling elite?

DB Subedi: That’s a very good question, and I think it is indeed both. On the one hand, it was what I would call a tactical blunder of the Oli government, because the ban on 26 social media platforms was based on a miscalculation of the possible social and political consequences it could produce. The reason it was a miscalculation is that we have now seen how it actually drove people to take to the streets—not only in Kathmandu but across the country. It was a tactical blunder because it failed to anticipate the reactions, especially from younger generations, Gen Z and others, who are digital nomads and live in the digital space. For them, the digital space is everyday life, not just a platform for networking and entertainment, but increasingly also a space for political competition and contestation. The government failed to predict the potential political and social backlash and consequences of this. Or at least, they were probably not ignorant of it but simply undermined the consequences.

At the same time, this also reflects a symptom of the increasingly authoritarian style of politics of the Oli government. One example I would cite is that when social media was banned on 4th September, news still circulated on the platforms that remained operational at the time—I think this included Viber and a few others—where the frustrations of young people were voiced. Through those platforms, there was a call for a nationwide protest against the government’s decision.

Rather than engaging with the people—especially the younger generation—and explaining to the population at large why the ban would be necessary, for example, as the government claimed, to maintain social cohesion and avert social fragmentation caused by misinformation and disinformation circulating on social media, the Oli government failed to make its case. That could have been a well-intentioned policy, and there may have been good intent behind it. However, the government not only failed to explain this to the people, but at the same time, ex-Prime Minister Oli was seen publicly criticizing and undermining young people’s frustration. This was symbolic and spoke directly to his authoritarian stance on the use of social media. For young people, it was not simply a matter of compliance; they saw it as an attack on their freedom of speech. In my view, then, the decision to ban social media was partly a tactical blunder and partly a symbolic expression of the increasingly authoritarian politics of the ruling elites at that time.

Nepo-Babies as a Symptom of Neo-Elitism

Viral outrage against “nepo-babies” seems to reflect a moral economy of resentment against elite entitlement. To what extent did the digital spectacle of political heirs flaunting luxury lifestyles crystallize diffuse frustrations into a new form of class politics—distinct from the agrarian and proletarian struggles of earlier eras?

Dr. DB Subedi: The outrage against nepo-babies, which we have seen on social media for some time in Nepal, is not unique to Nepal. In Asia, we have also seen similar kinds of outrage against nepo-babies in Indonesia and elsewhere; the Philippines is another example. But in the case of Nepal, this is actually a symptom of a deep cultural conflict within Nepal’s politics. It also points to the inequalities and disparities that have grown between political elites and ordinary people in the past decades.

Of course, nepo-babies are also a symbol of neo-elitism and a growing political culture that endorses elite entitlement and elite resource capture in a resource-poor country like Nepal. In other words, the outrage against nepo-babies—or the framing of nepo-babies as a particular type of social class on social media—is a symptom of growing socioeconomic inequalities and political divides in the country. This has also supported a different kind of elitist political culture, one that people did not expect after the massive political change in 2015.

To put that into context, when the Maoists called for a revolution—armed revolution—in 1996, during the 10 years of insurgency, 17,000 people died. Many hundreds, even thousands, are still missing. And there are thousands upon thousands of families that have been disintegrated or displaced because of the insurgency.

There are also ex-combatants who actively fought in the war—from the Maoist side as well as from the government side—who are now living with disability and carry deep emotional and psychological distress inherited from the war. The memory of those precarious, insecure times has not faded away. For Nepalese society, this is not a very distant event in history. People remain very much aware of what was sacrificed—not just by those who fought in the war, but also by ordinary people during the Maoist insurgency.

Then there was a political shift in 2008 and 2015, but now you can contrast these situations with the children of political elites—politicians who are living a luxurious life and, most importantly, flaunting that life and their privileges on social media. That kind of contrasting scenario is obviously going to be outrageous for people who feel they lost a decade of their lives because of the insurgencies, and who see few opportunities available for the masses.

So, what we have seen in the recent revolutions is the clash of those two types of political cultures, and the very contrasting lives people are living. That is why young people have shown their frustrations against nepo-babies. But again, nepo-babies are a product of bad political culture, rising neo-elitism, and institutional failure to bring about equitable socioeconomic change and transformation in the country.

Different Triggers, Shared Inequalities

Nepal is the third South Asian country in four years to witness mass youth-led uprisings, after Sri Lanka in 2022 and Bangladesh in 2024. What do you see as the common drivers across these cases, and what is unique to Nepal’s trajectory?

Dr. DB Subedi: Actually, there are several common drivers. One of the main ones is that in all three revolutions, there was overwhelming involvement and participation of young people, especially in Bangladesh and Nepal. We have seen Gen Z play a leading role in these kinds of protest movements. In Sri Lanka, in the Aragalaya, it was a bit different because people from three different ethnic groups—Tamils, Sinhalese, and Muslims—came together. This movement was also mostly led by young people, but people from other generations were involved as well in the revolution that toppled the government of Rajapaksa.

Of course, there are contextual differences too—differences in terms of politics, history, and so on. But there are also common structural issues behind the rise of these movements in all three countries. At the center of that structural inequality, that structural issue, is the perception of injustice. In Sri Lanka, the Aragalaya movement was mostly fueled by the government’s failure—economic collapse and the government’s failure to manage the economy when the country transitioned from decades of civil war to peace and stability.

In Bangladesh, this was directed towards a bad government policy by Sheikh Hasina’s government regarding quotas in government jobs and opportunities for young people. So, it was actually aimed at a particular kind of policy. In Nepal, by contrast, it was triggered by another policy decision—the ban on social media.

Regardless of these three different trigger factors, what we have seen is growing socioeconomic inequality, lack of generational change in politics, the perceptions of young people, and the reality of their sense of socioeconomic exclusion, relative deprivation, and frustration toward increasingly elitist types of politics. These are the common issues we can observe in all three countries. And when these issues converge in motivating young people to take to the streets, social media plays an important role as a facilitator of this kind of collective movement.

The Key Is a Proper Handover of Power

Thousands joined a joint morning procession organized by the CPN-UML and Nepali Congress district committees in Inaruwa Bazaar on September 19, 2025, to mark Constitution Day. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula.

In Sri Lanka, the Aragalaya protest movement toppled the Rajapaksas but was quickly reabsorbed into elite politics. What lessons should Nepali youth learn from the Sri Lankan experience to avoid repeating this cycle of betrayal?

Dr. DB Subedi: Sri Lanka’s case is probably somewhat different from that of Nepal, particularly when it comes to the transfer of political authority at the end of the revolutions. There is now a new government that came to power after the elections—a progressive government, distinct from the previous populist nationalist government of Rajapaksa. What we have seen in Sri Lanka is a very quick and relatively smooth transfer of power from the previous regime to the new progressive government, which, as the recent elections show, has received an overwhelming mandate from the Sri Lankan people. The transition was, of course, fragile, but the Sri Lankans managed it very well in terms of shifting power from the previous regime to the new one.

In the case of Nepal, we now have a civil society government, a pattern more or less similar to what we saw in Bangladesh after the 2024 revolution. This civilian government has been given a mandate to hold elections within six months, and it is headed by the former Chief Justice of the country, Sushila Karki. Nepal can actually learn a few things here from Sri Lanka. One is that it will always be in the best interest of the people and the political system to manage these transitions and make them as short as possible, because a proper handover of power from previous governments to the next elected government is the key.

In the meantime, there are also additional challenges for the Nepalese government—the civilian government in power at the moment. Nepal also faces the challenge of holding those from previous governments accountable for the loss of life during the protest movement. Proper investigations into the abuse of power and coercion by the previous regimes are difficult issues, but they need to be addressed. At the same time, there is widespread public frustration and anger about corruption cases. There are dozens of cases dating back as early as the 1990s that have not been properly investigated, and political power has been used, misused, and abused to avoid scrutiny.

So, while the civilian government in power at the moment has many challenges, the main lesson it could learn from Sri Lanka in particular is the importance of ensuring that processes, mechanisms, and systems are in place to transfer power from previous authorities to newly elected authorities.

The Risks of Religious Populism

In Bangladesh, the fall of Sheikh Hasina has opened space for religious extremism and new forms of repression. How should we understand the dangers of authoritarian populists exploiting anti-corruption or anti-elitist discourses in fragile democracies?

Dr. DB Subedi:  That’s a very good question, and Nepal also has—I wouldn’t say a strong possibility, but there may be—some scenarios where certain political forces, either existing or emerging, might use populist rhetoric to exploit the fluid situation in the transitional period. In other words, there may be risks of populist, nationalist kinds of political narratives being circulated as mainstream narratives in the meantime and taking over in the post-revolution political system. The risks are always there. In Bangladesh, we have seen religious extremist narratives circulating in the political domain and influencing politics, and this is typical of Bangladesh because of its sociocultural and socio-religious configurations.

In the case of Nepal, there are two potential scenarios where populist forces seeking to exploit the situation could emerge. In my view, one is that there is probably a lesser risk of right-wing populist politics exploiting culture or ethnicity to advance populist agendas in Nepal. Because Nepal is ethnically diverse, if any populist forces emerge at this stage, one possibility is that they might actually mobilize people across ethnic divides. In that sense, it might look less like the right-wing populism we have seen elsewhere.

But at the same time, the bigger risk is that Nepal was the only Hindu state in the world until 2015. When the new constitution was passed in 2015, it became a secular country. And even though it is now formally secular, it is weakly so, because in practice, in everyday life, religion is still present in the public domain. It has not been retracted into the private sphere. As a result, there are certain political parties and interest groups that want to reinstate the Hindu state in Nepal. That is another risk, where there may be potential for populist politics to emerge in this transition, mobilizing and exploiting religious factors, narratives, and ideologies. If that happens, that sort of populist politics might be more dangerous, because it could share certain elements of right-wing populism we have seen elsewhere, since it would be a form of religious populism in Nepal.

So, yes, like Sri Lanka, Nepal also faces risks. But at the same time, it also has an opportunity, because elections have been called in six months’ time, and if elections take place and there is a smooth transition of power, then Nepali society might be able to navigate these challenges in the days to come.

Unprecedented Support, Uncertain Future

The municipality office in Inaruwa, Sunsari, lies heavily damaged after protesters targeted it during the nationwide demonstrations against corruption and the social media shutdown on September 9, 2025. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula

And finally, Professor Subedi, do you see in Nepal’s Gen Z uprising the embryonic forms of a post-elitist democracy—an order rooted not in patronage or coercion but in participatory, inclusive politics? Or does the violence of the movement suggest that the path forward remains perilously uncertain?

Dr. DB Subedi: At the moment, I would like to be optimistic about your question, and I would say there are signs of a post-elitist kind of politics beginning to emerge in this case. But again, a lot depends on what kind of political institutions will consolidate in the days to come. Looking at the past, one of the major challenges in Nepal is that even though there were political changes—political shifts in 2015, 2008, and even earlier—the change in institutional setup did not result in meaningful socioeconomic transformation. One reason it didn’t happen is because institutions changed, but the institutional culture inherited from the past essentially remained the same. As a result, corruption continued, exclusion continued, and people’s frustrations with the system and political elites deepened.

In these situations, how the voices of younger generations can be institutionalized and established in mainstream politics in the days to come will determine a lot. Still, I would view this change more optimistically than pessimistically, because despite some losses—there was destruction and violence when the protests intensified on the second day—there is nonetheless a sense of awareness among the public that change was inevitable, change was necessary, and that we have come to a time when much more meaningful change is required, both in terms of political institutions, systems of governance, and political participation. But changing political culture is also necessary.

And I think if more and more young people are able to participate in politics, they might be able to foster a political culture that is much more participatory and inclusive, and can establish not only economic systems but also political systems that are fair, inclusive, and capable of bringing about the change desired by those who sacrificed their lives, as well as those who participated in these protest movements. A lot depends on how the state and society will navigate this challenge and crisis, because sometimes past history also gives us a clue to predict the future. Unfortunately, the past record of how Nepalese society has navigated post-revolutionary political space is not very encouraging.

But this time, because the revolution was led particularly by young people outside of the political parties’ participation—it was not hierarchical, as would have been the case if it were led by political parties—at the same time, even though it was a leaderless movement, it very quickly sought some results, some consequences. So, the kind of public support this protest movement has received is unprecedented. In that sense, there is huge public support, and in fact, that kind of public support is also a good indicator of the legitimacy of the current government, and also the government that will take over when it is handed over to an elected government. That kind of legitimacy is good for any government and any political leaders who come to power with the intention of bringing about meaningful social, economic, and political change. And that is what we can hope for at this stage. But a lot depends on how this will be managed, and how society will navigate through it.

Banksy protest mural in Palestine. A mural by the artist Banksy on a wall in the West Bank village of Beit Sahour, June 18, 2014. Photo: Dreamstime.

Queerness, Genocide, and International Law – A Look at Palestine

This commentary examines how queerness intersects with genocide and international law in the context of Palestine. Ass. Professor Izat El Amoor argues that queer Palestinians confront not only Israel’s genocidal violence but also Western pinkwashing narratives that weaponize queerness to justify oppression. By situating pinkwashing and pinkwatching within broader struggles of decolonization, the piece shows how queer analysis exposes the hypocrisy of Western legal and human rights frameworks while offering new tools for resistance. Linking Israel’s use of pinkwashing to global failures of international law—including the ICJ case brought by South Africa—the essay insists that genocide studies must reckon with queerness as central, not peripheral, to understanding both the violence in Gaza and pathways toward Palestinian liberation.

By Izat El Amoor*

In the colossal scope of the annihilation of Palestinians since October 7, queerness is not a mere addendum when positioned in the scholarship and legality of genocide. As Palestinians contested Western discourses of international law and genocide for their liberation, queer Palestinians in parallel challenged Western discourses of queerness – pinkwashing[1] – that have been employed as genocidal tools against all Palestinians. Within the larger Palestinian decolonization struggle, a queer analysis reveals additional shortcomings of the current genocide scholarship and legal frameworks that are useful for Palestinian resistance yet might otherwise remain hidden.

Pinkwashing genocide emerged boisterously from within Israel’s toolbox against an increasing diplomatic and legal global isolating pressure. This pressure entailed a string of legal and humanitarian decisions/actions such as UN Security Council votes for Palestinian statehood and membership; UN Human Rights Council resolutions of crimes against humanity; ambassador recalls and severance of diplomatic relations with many countries; states’ recognition of Palestine; state-calls on the International Criminal Court (ICC) to investigate war crimes against civilians; state-requests for a court opinion on whether Israel’s occupation violates international law. Pinkwatching[2] aims at strengthening this pressure that Israel has been diligently countering via pinkwashing, amongst other schemes. Consequently, pinkwashing and pinkwatching—while contradictory—transpire as instructive of the pretense of Western hypocritical dichotomies tied to human rights, international law, and preventing/ending genocide insofar as Palestinian liberation.

The ICJ Case Through a Queer Lens

Though not obviously connected at first glance, South Africa’s case against Israel at the ICJ—filed on December 29, 2023, regarding Israel’s actions in Gaza and widely considered the most significant diplomatic/legal attempt to isolate Israel—can also be analyzed through this queer framework. South Africa alleged that Israel has committed genocide in Gaza, violating the Genocide Convention through 75 years of apartheid, 56 years of occupation, and a 16-year blockade prior to October 7. Specifically in Gaza, South Africa accused Israel of eight “genocidal acts”: killing Palestinians; inflicting serious bodily and mental harm; mass displacement; deprivation of food and water; denial of shelter, clothing, hygiene, and sanitation; blocking medical care; destroying Palestinian life; and imposing measures to prevent births.

On January 11–12, 2024, the Peace Palace in The Hague hosted two days of hearings on South Africa’s request for provisional measures. On January 26, 2024, the Court ordered Israel to take all steps to prevent acts that could qualify as genocide under the 1948 Genocide Convention. The Court acknowledged that at least some of South Africa’s claims could fall within the Convention’s scope. However, it did not order Israel to halt its military operations in Gaza, as South Africa requested. Still, both governments declared the ruling a win, each interpreting it as validation of their stance.

Although ICJ rulings carry binding force, they lack enforcement power, and Israel has refused to comply. South Africa’s foreign minister Naledi Pandor emphasized that compliance would be impossible without a ceasefire. On February 26, 2024, Human Rights Watch reported that Israel had not implemented the Court’s provisional measures and had “continued to obstruct the provision of basic services and the entry and distribution within Gaza of fuel and lifesaving aid.” That same day, Amnesty International stated that Israel was “defying” the ICJ ruling. On March 28, 2024, in response to worsening conditions, the ICJ issued additional emergency measures requiring Israel to guarantee basic food supplies to stave off famine. Then, on May 24, 2024 the Court ordered an immediate halt to Israel’s Rafah offensive, which Israel outright rejected.

Because both Israel and South Africa are signatories to the Genocide Convention, jurisdiction is established. South Africa argues that, as a state party, it has a duty to act to prevent genocide and is legally obligated to pursue all necessary measures. The Genocide Convention extends beyond punishment to prevention, recognizing genocide as more than mass killing. South Africa’s petition highlights this obligation, aiming to fulfill the Convention’s purpose. Despite historical precedent of international law failing Palestinians and the slim likelihood of success, the case still carried hope—not only for a ruling in South Africa’s favor but also for a possible end to Israel’s genocidal campaign.

Decolonial Struggles Beyond the Courtroom

Pinkwatching operates on a similar basis of hope for Palestinian collective liberation, even though Israel is unlikely to abandon its pinkwashing efforts. Both South Africa’s ICJ case and pinkwatching contribute to the Palestinian decolonization struggle, offering different tools for globally isolating Israel and its supporters. While pinkwatching may occupy a small place in international legal and political arenas, it nonetheless provides an important pathway for resistance. This resonates with Palestinian scholar Nora Erakat’s (2020) claim that law must work alongside political strategies if it is to meaningfully support Palestine.

Like South Africa’s ICJ case, pinkwatching underscores the divide between legality and morality in international affairs. Western responses to both overlook moral dimensions, thus blocking accountability-based decolonial breakthroughs. Legal efforts are essential to halt genocide, but they remain insufficient to achieve the deeper moral and spiritual transformation necessary in the West to ensure genocide truly stops and does not recur. Treating genocide solely as a legal matter exposes the inadequacy of law when societies, like Israel’s, persist in the immoral conviction of having the right to commit it. Pinkwashers similarly claim false moral authority, reinforcing the Western legal hypocrisy that South Africa challenges. Recognizing this, pinkwatching organizers long ago chose to work outside such flawed structures, rejecting Western queer discourses that cannot deliver Palestinian liberation. Their efforts affirm that a queer-informed path to freedom cannot rely on Western legal or rights-based paradigms.

International law’s stated responsibility to prevent genocide and protect victims has repeatedly faltered due to “realpolitik, the lack of political will, and economic interests,” in the words of scholar Samuel Totten (2011). Historically, Totten says, responses to genocide have been “inconsequential. Nothing that will rock or threaten a [genocidal] government or nation’s well-being. Nothing punitive.” Israel dismissed South Africa’s charges as “baseless,” accusing it of acting as “the legal arm” of Hamas while insisting its actions were self-defense under international law—claims that largely went uncontested.

Pinkwashing, Early Warnings, and the Dynamics of Genocide

A clear example of realpolitik overriding legal and scholarly genocide frameworks came in the US, Germany, and France backing Israel at the ICJ, despite their histories of complicity in past genocides. France declared that accusing Israel of genocide “is to cross a moral threshold.” Germany pledged to defend Israel in light of the Holocaust. The US dismissedthe ICJ case as a distraction from “peace and security.” Beyond a lack of will to prevent genocide, South Africa’s case reveals that failure itself is pursued to serve Western interests.[3] Thus, by undermining their own institutions of “justice” such as international law and the UN, Western powers show themselves not only complicit in but active facilitators[4] of genocide. Their justifications parallel pinkwashing narratives, which weaponize queerness under a veneer of liberal progressivism while disregarding Palestinian lives—queer and non-queer alike.

From a queer perspective, Gaza’s genocide illustrates what scholar Sheri Rosenberg (2013) describes as the “danger of classifications” in genocide prevention. The targeting of queer Palestinians demonstrates that genocide “must be understood as an unfolding process, considered in light of historical, political, and social factors” and recognized as a complex phenomenon rather than reduced to a definition. When genocide is confined to legal definitions “against which unfolding events are to be measured,” it prioritizes “legalism [and] subjects each genocide to a rigid test in order to maintain the integrity of the term and determine criminal culpability.” Seeing genocide in Palestine as dynamic rather than static makes space for analyzing pinkwashing and pinkwatching as integral to genocide studies. Queerness unsettles the field’s fixation on definitional debates and strengthens arguments such as Rosenberg’s for “early warning systems [that] seek to collect, analyze, and communicate information” to identify potential genocides before escalation. For Palestinians, decades of orientalist tropes—including the use of homophobia to dehumanize them—could have served as early warnings had queer experiences been taken seriously.

Beyond South Africa, a queer reading of Gaza’s genocide also pushes genocide studies to destabilize fixed ideas of group identity. Scholars like Lily Nellans (2020) and Patrick Vernon (2021) have noted the Genocide Convention’s failure to recognize groups defined by gender and sexuality. Scholar Matthew Waites (2018) argues that including sexual orientation and gender identity as protected groups allows recognition of violence against queer communities in Nazi Germany, Uganda, and the Gambia as genocidal. Although Israel’s violence in Gaza targets Palestinians indiscriminately, pinkwashing’s use of queerness to normalize genocidal policies highlights how queer identities are manipulated within genocidal contexts. This manipulation, shaped by pinkwashing, differs from past genocides, marking a distinct phenomenon in the Palestinian experience.

Testimonies Erased: Pinkwashing as Justification and Diversion

Scholar Thomas Simon (1996) argues that in the initial legal definitions of genocide, the Convention’s drafters assumed that the groups requiring protection were “permanent, stable, and intractable,” recognizable by all. Because queer Palestinians have historically resisted Western queer visibility politics—centered on recognition, citizenship, and coming out—they cannot be defined as a protected group under this framework. Scholars like Freda Kabatsi (2005) argue that while the drafters treated group existence as a prerequisite for other rights, pinkwashing constructs queer Palestinians as a group only through a savior-like gaze that conditions their rights and protection on Western recognition. By forcibly separating queer Palestinians from the broader society, this group-based framing legitimizes a genocide that in reality indiscriminately targets all Palestinians. This occurs, Kabatsi (2005)  says, when the “group and membership in it are defined by the perpetrator.” Through pinkwashing, Israel reshapes the definition of the Palestinian collective by isolating its queer members, portraying them as exceptions to the population at large. This narrative enables Israel to justify violence against Palestinians—including queers—while presenting itself as a defender of queer rights.

When examined through pinkwashing and pinkwatching, the instrumentalization of queerness to justify genocide reveals a key distinction between contemporary and historical genocides as studies by Robert Melson (2011) show. While queer people have been killed in earlier genocides, the case in Gaza differs because of the weaponization of both alleged Palestinian heteronormativity and Israel’s homonormativity, the latter being used to claim the role of “savior” of queer Palestinians in the process of ‘othering’ all Palestinians. This demonstrates, to build on Vernon (2021), that both heteronormativity and homonormativity are “relevant to genocidal violence against non-queer people as well as violence against queer people.” 

Genocide, therefore, emerges as a behavior rather than a consistent phenomenon across cases. In Palestine, this “comportment of genocide”—which may either define or obscure genocide—takes the form of pinkwashing (Kabatsi, 2005). Here, pinkwashing functions as both a tool of justification and a means of diversion in the genocidal narrative against Palestinians. This may, in fact, represent the first documented instance of such comportment through pinkwashing.

Queering the analysis of genocide in Palestine beyond legal approaches further underscores the importance of listening to victims. In genocidal contexts, as Melson (2011) argues, “testimonies of victims and survivors must be taken into account in order to better understand the motives of the perpetrators and bystanders” and to give victims and survivors a voice in the narrative of destruction. The testimonies of queer Palestinians and the work of pinkwatching activists, however, remain especially marginalized—not only because queer Palestinians, like all Palestinians, are killed in the genocide, but also because pinkwashing depicts them as either nonexistent or limited to experiencing social death in their communities, thus erasing their capacity to provide testimony. This is particularly relevant in light of the ICJ’s order that Israel preserve evidence of genocide and comply with UN investigations. Instead, Israel has systematically destroyed evidence by blocking journalists from entering Gaza, targeting and killing reporters, and denying UN workers access for documentation.

From Exceptionalism to Resistance: Rethinking Genocide Studies

Israel’s reliance on pinkwashing to avoid accountability has broader consequences beyond the devastation in Palestine. By exploiting queer communities in pursuit of ethnonationalist goals, Israel signals to other states that such practices can be adopted with impunity, without fear of consequences. Condemning Israel and the West’s disregard for international law, Irish MEP Clare Daly stated, “the rules-based order is in roaring form.” Israeli exceptionalism reinforces the fact that the West has always applied one standard of international law for its allies and another for the rest of the world. After months of openly discarding international law in Gaza, the collapse of the post–World War II system—built by the US and Europe to maintain global dominance—has become undeniable. Palestinians, including queer Palestinians and their pinkwatching allies, remain steadfast in their resistance to this destructive order.

Pinkwashing and pinkwatching emphasize the need for genocide studies and international law to adopt queer perspectives in documenting, analyzing, and explaining both Israel’s genocide and the international community’s failure to prevent it. Building on the leadership of pinkwatching activists, scholars must foreground the heteronormative and homonormative structures of Zionism, nationalism, colonialism, orientalism, and imperialism as central to understanding genocidal violence in Gaza and beyond. As scholarship continues to evolve, queerness must be acknowledged as an essential contributor to Palestinian liberation, complementing other political strategies. Since legal approaches alone have repeatedly proven insufficient for advancing decolonization, recognizing queerness at the intersection of law and politics is crucial.



(*) Dr. Izat El Amoor is a self-identified queer Palestinian, and an Assistant Professor of Sociology at Hendrix College studying LGBTQ issues in the Arab world, Palestine included.


 

References

Erakat, N. (2020). Justice for some: Law and the question of Palestine. Stanford University Press.

Kabatsi, F. (2005). “Defining or diverting genocide: Changing the comportment of genocide.” International Criminal Law Review, 5(4), 387–407.

Melson, R. (2011). “Critique of current genocide studies.” Genocide Studies and Prevention, 6(3), 279–286.

Nellans, L. (2020). “A queer (er) genocide studies.” Genocide Studies and Prevention: An International Journal, 14(3), 7–16.

Rosenberg, S. P. (2012). “Genocide is a process, not an event.” Genocide Studies and Prevention, 7(1), 16–23.

Simon, T. W. (1996). “Defining genocide.” Wisconsin International Law Journal, 15(2), 243–289.

Totten, S. (2011). “The state and future of genocide studies and prevention: An overview and analysis of some key issues.” Genocide Studies and Prevention, 6(3), 211–230.

Vernon, P. (2021). “Queering genocide as a performance of heterosexuality.” Millennium: Journal of International Studies, 49(2), 248–279.

Waites, M. (2018). “Genocide and global queer politics.” Journal of Genocide Research, 20(1), 44–67.



Footnotes

[1] To pinkwash, Israel exploits queer rights to project a progressive queer friendly image of itself while concealing its occupation and apartheid of Palestinians.

[2] Pro-Palestine anti-pinkwashing organizing.

[3] Some signs include the May 6th threatening letter by 12 US republican senators, led by Sen. Tom Cotton, to the ICC chief prosecutor Karim A.A. Khan with sanctions and banning ICC “employees and associates” from entering the US over possible warrants against Israel, saying explicitly, “target Israel and we will target you.” South Africa’s Pandor received the same letter. On May 20th, Khan applied for arrest warrants for Hamas chief Yahya Sinwar and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.

[4] The US and Germany, Israel’s top arms supplier, saw their weapon manufacturer corporates directly profit from the genocide as their share prices have exponentially risen since October 7.

Photo: Dreamstime.

From Populism to Fascism? Intellectual Responsibilities in Times of Democratic Backsliding

The ECPS convened leading scholars to assess how populist movements are accelerating democratic decay and edging toward fascism. Moderated by Professor Cengiz Aktar, the panel featured Professors Mabel Berezin, Steven Friedman, Julie Ingersoll, Richard Falk, and Larry Diamond. Discussions ranged from Christian nationalism and techno-utopianism in the US, to the failures of Western democratic models, to the global hypocrisy of international law. Panelists warned that populism now serves as a vehicle for authoritarian consolidation with worldwide reverberations. They underscored the responsibility of intellectuals to resist euphemism, speak with clarity, and help reimagine democracy in an age of disinformation, mass manipulation, and systemic crisis.

Reported by ECPS Staff

The European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) hosted a panel titled “From Populism to Fascism? Intellectual Responsibilities in Times of Democratic Backsliding.” The session gathered distinguished scholars to examine the accelerating erosion of democracy, the potential transition from populism to fascism, and the moral and intellectual duties of those who continue to defend democratic values in dark times.

Selcuk Gultasli, ECPS Chairperson, opened the session by emphasizing the urgency of the theme. He noted that the panel sought not only to analyze the rise of populism but also to confront how authoritarian tendencies may harden into fascism. ECPS, he explained, is committed to making the discussion widely accessible through a detailed report and online recordings, ensuring that policymakers, academics, and engaged citizens can benefit from the insights shared.

Moderator Professor Cengiz Aktar, adjunct professor of political science at the University of Athens, then set the tone by recalling ECPS’s mission: to document and analyze how populism threatens democracy worldwide. He warned that populist leaders are not isolated figures but draw legitimacy from mass support, which, in Arendtian terms, provides the essential condition for fascist governance. Today’s task, Professor Aktar concluded, is no longer about building democracy but about preventing its collapse.

Professor Mabel Berezin (Distinguished Professor of Arts & Sciences in Sociology and Director of the Institute for European Studies at Cornell University) opened with a comparative analysis of populism in Europe and the United States. She argued that American populism, embodied by Donald Trump, is marked by unpredictability and authoritarian experimentation, untethered from coherent historical anchors. The most dangerous development, she suggested, lies not in street militias but in “social authoritarianism”—elite legal and intellectual projects such as Project 2025 that aim to dismantle democracy from within. The elevation of Charlie Kirk as a martyr, she warned, signals a new form of religious-political mobilization with fascistic overtones.

Professor Steven Friedman (Research Professor in the Faculty of Humanities, University of Johannesburg) challenged the myth of a pristine democratic past. Democracy, he argued, has always been shaped by exclusion, and the Western model itself is failing. By ignoring the dangers of private corporate power and clinging to Eurocentric notions of “consolidation,” democrats have overlooked the deeper roots of disillusionment. For Professor Friedman, the task is to redefine democracy as equal human choice in all decisions that affect people’s lives—a principle that requires confronting both state and private power.

Professor Julie Ingersoll (Professor of Religious Studies and Florida Blue Ethics Fellow at the University of North Florida) provided an ethnographic perspective on Christian nationalism in the United States. She mapped three strands—evangelical dominionism, Catholic integralism, and Pentecostal-charismatic movements—that, despite historical rivalries, now converge in rejecting pluralism and democracy. She also highlighted the convergence of these religious forces with secular techno-utopianism and nihilistic online subcultures. The result, she argued, is a coalition oriented toward collapse and accelerationism, united less by theology than by anti-democratic aspirations.

Professor Richard Falk (Albert G. Milbank Professor of International Law and Practice, Emeritus at Princeton University) situated the discussion in a global frame. He argued that democracy was tarnished long before populism’s rise, corrupted by Cold War secrecy, US hypocrisy in international law, and the exploitative logic of capitalism. Populism, in his view, compounds these crises by waging an “epistemological war” against truth and expertise. Facing climate change, nuclear peril, and extreme poverty, Professor Falk urged intellectuals to embrace utopian thinking and even revolutionary transformation, reorienting governance toward the global public good.

Professor Larry Diamond (Professor of Sociology and of Political Science, Senior Fellow at the Hoover Institution and the Mosbacher Senior Fellow in Global Democracy at the Freeman Spogli Institute for International Studies at Stanford University) concluded with a stark warning about the authoritarian project underway in the United States. Drawing lessons from leaders such as Hungary’s Orbán and Turkey’s Erdoğan, he argued that Trump and his allies are pursuing a systematic strategy of democratic dismantling: media capture, judicial purges, lawfare, and gerrymandering. While fascistic elements are present, Professor Diamond stressed the importance of terminological precision. Resistance, he suggested, requires early mobilization, broad coalitions, and a focus on economic issues that resonate with ordinary voters.

Together, the panelists painted a sobering picture: populism today is no longer merely a style of politics but a vehicle for authoritarian consolidation with global reverberations. From Christian nationalism to techno-utopianism, from corporate power to manipulated legal frameworks, the threats are multifaceted. Yet the panel also underscored a common responsibility—that intellectuals must speak with clarity, resist euphemism, and foster new visions of democracy suited to the crises of our age.

 

Professor Mabel Berezin: “Locating the Fight? Strategic Engagement in the United States and Europe”

People gather at Turning Point USA headquarters in Phoenix, Arizona, on September 13, 2025, for a memorial following the fatal shooting of Charlie Kirk during his speech at Utah Valley University in Orem. Photo: Dreamstime.

In her presentation, Professor Mabel Berezin delivered a sobering analysis of the current trajectory of democracy in the United States and Europe. Speaking from the vantage point of an academic who has long studied populism and fascism, she situated the discussion within a comparative framework, but with particular urgency regarding developments in the United States since the 2024 presidential election.

Berezin opened with a reflection on the language used to describe contemporary democratic crises. The term “democratic backsliding,” she argued, now feels wholly inadequate for the American case. Since Donald Trump’s return to power, the country has been subject to what she described as a “high-speed wrecking ball” against its democratic institutions. While democratic erosion is a global phenomenon, its forms vary across national contexts, depending on political histories and institutional resilience. This, she suggested, underscores the need for context-specific strategies of intellectual and civic engagement.

European Populism and American Exceptionalism

Berezin revisited an argument she first articulated in 2017 in her essay “Trump is Not a European-Style Populist and That is Our Problem.” In that piece, she observed that while European far-right populists—such as Marine Le Pen in France or Giorgia Meloni in Italy—often ground their appeals in nostalgia for a stronger nation-state and postwar social protections, the American populist right is marked by unpredictability. European populists, she argued, want “more state, not less,” and their grievances frequently revolve around immigration and monetary issues within the European Union framework. By contrast, the American case lacks a coherent historical anchor, and Trump’s political appeal did not fit neatly into established narratives.

For Professor Berezin, this unpredictability made Trump particularly dangerous. While European populists often pursue recognizable policy goals rooted in the past, Trump’s movement was untethered, fueled instead by volatile grievances and charismatic mobilization. The absence of clearly defined political expectations in the US created fertile ground for authoritarian experimentation.

The Rise of Social Authoritarianism

Turning to the US after the 2020 and 2024 elections, Professor Berezin noted the growing academic consensus that Trumpism bears fascist characteristics. However, she argued that the most pressing threats to democracy are not necessarily the paramilitary groups that rallied in Charlottesville or stormed the Capitol on January 6, 2021. Instead, the greater danger lies in what she termed “social authoritarianism”—a project spearheaded by intellectual cadres aligned with institutions such as the Heritage Foundation, the Federalist Society, and the architects of “Project 2025.”

These actors, she explained, represent the true intellectual core of the movement. Unlike the visible extremists brandishing weapons, these figures deploy law, language, and bureaucracy as instruments of authoritarian consolidation. By targeting institutions and systematically reshaping the judiciary, they seek to dismantle the so-called “deep state” and restrict fundamental freedoms under the veneer of legality. As Professor Berezin quipped, it is easier to imprison someone who fires an AR-15 than it is to restrain a legal strategist whose weapon is a thesaurus.

The Paramilitary of Jesus

While she downplayed the long-term mobilizing potential of armed militias, Professor Berezin identified a new and alarming development: the posthumous elevation of Charlie Kirk, a conservative media figure assassinated in September 2025. Initially dismissing him as a fringe podcaster, Professor Berezin admitted she was shocked by the scale and spectacle of his memorial service, which she described as a “paramilitary of Jesus with the blessings of the state.” The event drew millions of attendees and viewers, including Trump and much of his cabinet, and revealed a level of organization, youthful enthusiasm, and emotional intensity that Professor Berezin found profoundly unsettling.

What struck her most was the fusion of evangelical symbolism with political mobilization. The service emphasized family, reproduction, and communal solidarity, urging followers to “have more children than you can afford” and to embrace family as one’s central role in society. While the rhetoric appeared religious, Professor Berezin suggested it was in fact a form of secular mobilization—anchored less in theology than in a cultural project of authoritarian belonging.

Kirk’s assassination, she argued, paradoxically strengthened the movement. In death, he was transformed into a martyr, his charisma frozen in time, and his image available for endless appropriation by the MAGA movement. This development, she warned, fills a “missing link” in the analytical framework of American authoritarianism, supplying the movement with an emotionally powerful narrative and a mobilizing force that mainstream democratic actors struggle to match.

Intellectual Responsibilities

The central theme of Professor Berezin’s speech was the intellectual responsibility of scholars in confronting authoritarianism. She acknowledged the limitations of academic writing and debate in the face of mobilized authoritarian forces but insisted that silence or timidity is not an option. Universities, law schools, and other institutions must be willing to say “no” to authoritarian incursions, resisting the erosion of academic freedom and democratic values.

Dialogue, she suggested, remains valuable, but only if understood not as a tool of conversion but as a means of fostering engagement. In her own teaching on fascism and nationalism, Professor Berezin frequently encounters conservative students who seek to talk rather than proselytize. Creating spaces for such conversations, she argued, can generate a deeper understanding of democratic principles across divides.

Yet Professor Berezin also warned against complacency. She noted that the rhetoric of Trump’s movement is saturated with appeals to “freedom,” while democracy itself is rarely mentioned. The gap between these two concepts must be addressed directly. For her, one crucial task is rearticulating what democracy actually means in the public sphere. Many Americans, she lamented, support democracy as an abstract good but lack a concrete understanding of its practices and requirements.

Democracy and Education

Professor Berezin concluded by situating intellectual responsibility within the longer history of democratic education. She invoked John Dewey’s Democracy and Education (1916) and the civic initiatives launched in the United States during the onset of World War II, such as the National Foundation for Education and American Citizenship. These historical precedents, she argued, remind us that democracy must be taught, nurtured, and continuously reinforced through education.

For Professor Berezin, the path forward lies not in rhetorical denunciations of fascism but in cultivating a renewed public understanding of democracy itself. Education, both formal and informal, is the most effective channel for resisting the deeply embedded authoritarian forces now at work. If democracy is to be saved—or at least its decline attenuated—scholars, educators, and intellectuals must reclaim their role in shaping civic culture.

Conclusion

Professor Berezin’s presentation offered a bracing assessment of the state of democracy in America and beyond. By contrasting European and American populisms, highlighting the intellectual underpinnings of authoritarianism, and analyzing the symbolic mobilization of figures like Charlie Kirk, she illuminated the complex and evolving threats facing democratic societies. Her call to intellectual responsibility—grounded in education, engagement, and the defense of democratic institutions—underscored the urgent role of scholars in meeting this historical moment.

 

Professor Steven Friedman: “Democracy for All: Rethinking a Failed Model”

The controversial Israeli separation wall dividing Israel from the West Bank, often referred to as the segregation wall in Palestine. Photo: Giovanni De Caro.

In his presentation, Professor Steven Friedman offered a provocative and deeply critical re-examination of contemporary democratic theory and practice. Speaking as both a South African scholar and a citizen who lived through apartheid and the democratic transition of 1994, Professor Friedman challenged prevailing assumptions about democracy’s origins, legitimacy, and sustainability. His core argument was clear: the crisis facing democracy today is not merely the product of authoritarian incursions or populist disruption but the collapse of a flawed model of democracy that has dominated global thinking for the past three decades.

The Myth of a Pristine Democratic Past

Professor Friedman began by dismantling what he called the “myth of the pristine democratic environment.” Many observers, he argued, continue to think of democracy as a fully functioning, well-ordered system that has been corrupted by external “barbarians.” While acknowledging the existence of authoritarian challengers, Professor Friedman insisted that this framing misdiagnoses the problem. According to him, democracy has not simply been hijacked; rather, the dominant model itself is failing. To understand today’s crisis, we must interrogate the assumptions underpinning this model.

Democracy as a Western Export

The first of these assumptions, Professor Friedman argued, is the idea that democracy is inherently Western. For decades, he noted, democracy outside North America and Western Europe has been judged by the extent to which it resembles an idealized Western model. This attitude, embedded in the “transition to democracy” scholarship of the late twentieth century, created a hierarchy in which Africa, Asia, and Latin America were cast as perpetual apprentices striving to approximate Western democracies.

He pointed to the academic obsession with “democratic consolidation” as an example. Despite the proliferation of literature on the subject, there has never been a coherent definition of what a “consolidated democracy” actually is. In practice, Professor Friedman argued, the concept functioned as a mirror: if a country looked like Western Europe or North America, it was deemed consolidated; if not, it was considered deficient. This was less a political theory, he suggested, than an ethnic bias.

Today, the irony of this model is stark. The very Western democracies once held up as exemplars are themselves eroding fundamental freedoms. Professor Friedman shared a telling personal anecdote. During apartheid, South Africans envied Western societies for their freedoms of speech and assembly. Yet today, he noted, German academics fear losing their jobs for participating in discussions critical of Israel, and Americans risk detention for political speech. The “boot,” he observed, “is now on the other foot.” Modeling democracy on the West, he concluded, is no longer tenable.

Palestine as a Democracy Problem

Professor Friedman underscored this argument with a pressing contemporary example: Palestine. He contended that the suppression of pro-Palestinian expression in Western democracies represents a profound democratic failure. Citizens in the UK and elsewhere have been arrested for holding signs opposing genocide, while in many countries, calls for boycotts—an elementary form of democratic speech—are criminalized.

Equally troubling, Professor Friedman argued, is the gap between public opinion and elite policy. Surveys consistently show overwhelming public support for a just resolution to the conflict, yet Western governments either ignore this consensus or offer token gestures while maintaining policies that sustain the crisis. This disconnect illustrates how democracy, when treated as a Western possession, erodes its own legitimacy. For Professor Friedman, the Palestine issue is not peripheral but central to understanding democracy’s current global malaise.

Ignoring Private Power

The second flawed assumption of the dominant model, Professor Friedman argued, is its fixation on the state as the sole threat to freedom. According to this view, democracy exists primarily to constrain state power and ensure accountability to citizens. While important, this perspective ignores another crucial reality: private power can be equally oppressive when left unregulated.

Professor Friedman reminded his audience that this insight is hardly radical. Theodore Roosevelt, in the early twentieth century, warned that unregulated commercial power could dominate and oppress citizens just as much as the state. For much of the postwar period, Western democracies acknowledged this reality, regulating corporate influence to safeguard public interests. Yet in the past thirty years, this recognition has disappeared from mainstream democratic theory. Private power is rarely mentioned in contemporary scholarship or policy debates, leaving citizens vulnerable to corporate domination.

He illustrated this point with evidence from the 2024 US elections. Democratic candidates who campaigned on regulating corporate price gouging outperformed their peers by 8–10 percentage points, sometimes winning in unexpected constituencies. This, Professor Friedman argued, underscores the centrality of addressing private power to democratic renewal. Citizens disengage not because they are seduced by authoritarianism, but because they see mainstream parties as unwilling or unable to improve their material conditions.

The Real Crisis: Disillusionment, Not Populism

Professor Friedman pushed back against the notion that democracy’s greatest threat lies in the rise of populist strongmen. The problem, he suggested, is not the growth of the authoritarian right but the erosion of faith among non-right constituencies. In the US, for example, Trump did not dramatically expand his base between 2020 and 2024. Instead, 17 million former Democratic voters simply abstained. Disillusionment, not conversion, handed Trump his victory.

This phenomenon is not unique to the US. Across Western Europe, too, the crisis of democracy stems less from the swelling of the right than from the alienation of citizens who feel their votes no longer matter. When private power goes unregulated and living standards stagnate, democratic participation declines. Professor Friedman emphasized that this structural disillusionment is a more urgent challenge than the electoral gains of right-wing populists.

Redefining Democracy

In concluding, Professor Friedman turned to the question of intellectual responsibility. Scholars, he argued, must abandon the failed model of democracy and reimagine its meaning. For him, democracy is not a set of institutions or a Western inheritance but a principle: every adult human being should have an equal say in every decision that affects them.

He acknowledged that no society has ever fully realized this ideal. But, citing South African theorist Richard Turner’s essay “The Necessity of Utopian Thinking,” Professor Friedman insisted that such standards must serve as guiding measures. Without them, democrats risk losing sight of their goals.

Placing equal human choice at the center of democracy, Professor Friedman argued, has two transformative implications. First, it erases the Western bias by recognizing democracy as a universal entitlement, not a Western export. Second, it compels recognition that private power must be regulated just as much as state power to ensure genuine freedom. Free speech, free assembly, and other democratic rights flow from this foundational principle.

Conclusion

Professor Friedman’s presentation was both a diagnosis and a manifesto. He rejected nostalgic narratives of a lost democratic golden age, instead locating today’s crisis in the flaws of a dominant model that has privileged Western forms and ignored private power. By highlighting the Palestine issue, he demonstrated how democratic principles are being eroded in the very societies that claim to embody them. By pointing to corporate power, he revealed the blind spots of a state-centered understanding of democracy.

Ultimately, Professor Friedman’s call was for a radical rethinking of democracy as a universal system of equal human choice. Only by embracing this vision, he argued, can democrats move beyond disillusionment and resist both authoritarianism and apathy. His intervention offered a powerful reminder that democracy’s renewal depends not on replication of Western models but on confronting the structural inequalities—both public and private—that undermine it.


Professor Julie Ingersoll: “That Which Precedes the Fall: ‘Religion’ and ‘Secularism’ in the US”

Donald Trump’s supporters wearing “In God We Trump” shirts at a rally in Bojangles’ Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, on March 2, 2020. Photo: Jeffrey Edwards.

In her presentation, Professor Julie Ingersoll offered a sobering ethnographic analysis of how religious and ostensibly secular movements in the United States have converged into a powerful populist force. Drawing on more than three decades of field-based scholarship on American religion, Professor Ingersoll explained how seemingly disparate strands of Christianity—along with nonreligious ideological currents—have coalesced into a theocratic, anti-democratic vision that underpins the populist movement known as MAGA. Her intervention highlighted the importance of rethinking how scholars conceptualize religion itself, arguing that theological differences often obscure shared cultural and political commitments.

The Ethnographer’s Lens

Professor Ingersoll situated her perspective within her disciplinary background. Unlike scholars who approach populism through theories of democracy or abstract political models, her work is rooted in ethnography and the close study of religious communities over time. Her aim, she explained, is not to prescribe strategies for saving democracy but to document the lived dynamics of religious movements and to clarify what society is up against. This commitment to description and analysis, she argued, is itself a vital intellectual responsibility: to bear witness, to explain, and to equip others with a deeper understanding of the cultural forces reshaping American politics.

Three Streams of Christian Nationalism

Central to Professor Ingersoll’s presentation was her mapping of Christian nationalism into three distinct but increasingly interconnected traditions.

Evangelical Protestant Dominionism: The first stream emerges from white conservative evangelical Protestantism, particularly the Reconstructionist movement of the 1950s. These groups believe the Bible speaks to every area of life and advocate a theocratic social order rooted in pro-slavery Southern Presbyterianism. They view pluralism and social equality as heretical and insist that Christians are commanded to exercise “dominion” over the world, a mandate they trace back to Genesis. This dominionist vision has informed generations of evangelical activism, positioning biblical law as the sole legitimate foundation for governance.

Catholic Integralism: The second stream arises from Catholic integralism, a minority tradition within Catholicism that rejects church-state separation and seeks to organize society according to Catholic teaching. Integralists draw inspiration from the historic doctrine of the divine right of kings and today align themselves with efforts to dismantle the administrative state. Professor Ingersoll pointed to Leonard Leo and the Federalist Society’s transformation of the US Supreme Court as evidence of integralist influence. Their promotion of the “unitary executive” doctrine reflects a broader ambition to consolidate political power in ways that erode checks and balances.

Charismatic and Pentecostal Movements: The third stream comes from charismatic and Pentecostal Christianity, particularly the New Apostolic Reformation (NAR) that arose in the 1990s. Emphasizing prophecy, apostleship, and spiritual warfare, these groups interpret the world as a literal battlefield between divine and demonic forces. Their “Seven Mountains Mandate” envisions Christians seizing control of key spheres of society, from government and business to media and education. Professor Ingersoll warned that this branch of Christian nationalism, with its apocalyptic worldview and demonization of opponents, is especially prone to violence.

While historically divided and even hostile to one another, these three streams have forged common cause within the MAGA movement. Their theological disagreements, Professor Ingersoll argued, often matter less in everyday practice than their shared opposition to pluralism, egalitarianism, and democracy.

Rethinking Religion

A major contribution of Professor Ingersoll’s presentation was her challenge to conventional understandings of religion. Too often, she argued, scholars and observers treat religion as a coherent set of theological beliefs derived from sacred texts. In reality, religious communities function as shifting assemblages of practices, narratives, and cultural markers that organize social life, demarcate insiders and outsiders, and legitimate particular hierarchies.

She illustrated this with a simple example for her students: when people choose a church, they often do so based on social comfort and community ties, not doctrinal precision. Over time, their beliefs shift to align with the group. In this sense, theology frequently follows social belonging rather than the other way around. Recognizing this dynamic, she argued, helps explain how divergent Christian traditions can set aside doctrinal disputes to advance a shared political project.

The Blurring of Religious and Secular

Importantly, Professor Ingersoll emphasized that Christian nationalism does not exist in isolation. It converges with ostensibly secular ideological movements, most notably Silicon Valley techno-utopianism. Tech futurists, accelerationists, and advocates of the “Dark Enlightenment” envision the collapse of democracy and its replacement by corporate-style governance, with CEOs and elite boards as rulers. They promote building digital and physical enclaves—whether in the cloud, on artificial islands, or even on Mars—where hierarchy replaces equality.

Despite their secular self-image, these movements align with Christian nationalism on core commitments: hostility to egalitarianism, skepticism toward democracy, and openness to societal collapse as an opportunity for renewal. Together, they form a strange but potent coalition, bound less by shared theology than by shared anti-democratic aspirations.

Professor Ingersoll also pointed to nihilistic online subcultures that defy the left-right binary, particularly those implicated in the assassination of Charlie Kirk. These groups embrace collapse and seek to accelerate it, even if what follows is “nothingness.” Though ideologically incoherent, they reinforce the broader accelerationist impulse uniting religious and secular anti-democratic forces.

Theocratic Visions and Apocalyptic Anticipations

Across these groups—whether dominionist, integralist, Pentecostal, techno-utopian, or nihilist— Professor Ingersoll identified a common conviction that society is in chaos and decline, and that collapse is either inevitable or desirable. Some even imagine themselves as agents accelerating history toward apocalyptic ends. Though they may diverge sharply on what comes after collapse—the Kingdom of God, a Mars colony, or nihilistic nothingness—they are united in their rejection of democracy and equality in the present.

This convergence, she warned, explains why observers have underestimated their power. Analysts often dismissed each strand as fringe or mutually exclusive, missing the cultural work that bound them together. Only by reframing religion not as fixed belief but as lived practice can we see the coherence of this coalition.

Intellectual Responsibilities

Professor Ingersoll concluded by reflecting on the intellectual responsibilities of scholars in this precarious moment. She admitted that offering prescriptive solutions has never been her strength, nor does she claim to have a plan for saving American democracy. What she can do, she insisted, is “stay in her lane”: documenting, explaining, and bearing witness to the forces reshaping society.

She acknowledged the difficulty of gaining perspective within the United States, where daily life remains unchanged for many even as democratic institutions crumble. Yet she argued that democracy has already collapsed in significant ways, and the upcoming 2026 election may already be compromised beyond repair.

For academics, the challenge is compounded by growing pressures to remain silent. Universities, law firms, media organizations, and even independent institutions have faced campaigns to suppress dissent. Faculty—tenured, untenured, and even retired—have been fired or disciplined for their speech, often on the basis of accusations tied to social media. The silencing of intellectual voices, Professor Ingersoll warned, represents not just an attack on individuals but an erosion of democracy itself.

Conclusion

Professor Julie Ingersoll’s presentation illuminated the deep entanglements of religion, culture, and politics in the rise of American populism. By tracing the convergence of evangelical dominionists, Catholic integralists, Pentecostal charismatics, techno-utopians, and nihilist subcultures, she revealed a coalition united not by theology but by anti-democratic commitments. Her insistence on reframing religion as lived practice rather than doctrinal belief opened new avenues for understanding how these disparate groups reinforce one another.

Ultimately, her message was both analytical and cautionary. The coalition she described thrives on visions of collapse and acceleration, rejecting democracy and equality in favor of theocratic or technocratic alternatives. For scholars, the responsibility is to continue speaking, documenting, and explaining—even in the face of silencing. As Professor Ingersoll made clear, the stakes are nothing less than the future of American democracy.

 

Professor Richard Falk: “Emancipatory Politics in a Dark Time”

UN Security Council meeting on the United Nations Interim Administration Mission in Kosovo, New York, August 25, 2016. Photo: Ognjen Stevanovic.

In his presentation, Professor Richard Falk offered a sobering international perspective on the decline of democracy, the failures of US leadership, and the urgent need to rethink political responsibility in light of global crises. Speaking as a longtime scholar of international law and global order, Professor Falk situated the challenges of populism and authoritarianism within broader structural failures—of US democracy, capitalism, and the international system established after World War II.

The Tarnishing of Democracy

Professor Falk began by challenging the notion that populism alone is the cause of democratic erosion in the US. Democracy, he argued, was already “badly tarnished” long before the rise of Trumpism. For decades, the United States projected itself as the world’s exemplary democracy, yet in practice it offered citizens only a “choiceless democracy.” The two-party system, constrained by Cold War ideologies, provided little space for fundamental debate on the most pressing issues.

Secrecy further hollowed out democratic practice. The CIA and other US agencies subverted democratic movements abroad—staging coups in Iran, Chile, and elsewhere—while concealing these actions from the American public under the guise of national security. By normalizing criminal interventions as necessary for security, Professor Falk argued, the US “permanently corrupted the moral sensibilities of the citizenry.” Democracy was reduced to participation in elections that offered no real alternative, fueling disillusionment among the poor, racial minorities, and other marginalized groups whose grievances were consistently dismissed.

The Global Projection of Hypocrisy

Internationally, the United States squandered the opportunity after World War II to construct a just world order. Instead, it entrenched a system that privileged the victors. The United Nations Security Council institutionalized inequality by exempting the five permanent members from compliance with international law. As Professor Falk emphasized, this design elevated geopolitics over morality and law, undermining the credibility of global governance from the start.

The consequences of this hypocrisy are evident today. In conflicts such as Ukraine and Gaza, international law is selectively invoked: wielded as a weapon against adversaries while ignored when allies commit violations. This double standard, Professor Falk argued, has transformed the US from a supposed champion of the rule of law into “the champion of moral hypocrisy.” The result is widespread alienation across much of the Global South, where US credibility as a promoter of democracy has eroded.

Capitalism, Populism, and the Assault on Truth

A further obstacle to democratic renewal lies in the current stage of global capitalism. Contemporary capitalism, Professor Falk argued, is both exploitative and ecologically destructive. By privileging short-term profits over sustainability, it undermines governments’ ability to act in the public interest. Corporate influence on politics ensures that urgent global challenges—climate change, poverty, and disarmament—are subordinated to private interests.

Within this context, populism becomes not a solution but an amplifier of democratic decay. Trumpism, Professor Falk contended, embodies an “epistemological war against the Enlightenment.” It is hostile to expertise, reason, and evidence, and sanctions those who attempt to tell inconvenient truths. The suppression of international voices speaking out about the humanitarian catastrophe in Gaza, including United Nations officials, is emblematic of this assault on truth. Words such as “genocide” are rendered almost unspeakable, even as atrocities unfold in real time. By eroding the possibility of truth-telling, populist politics undermines responsible citizenship and corrodes the foundations of democratic accountability.

Toward Emancipatory Politics

Against this backdrop, Professor Falk posed the critical question: what does it mean to be a responsible citizen in such dark times? His answer pointed toward the necessity of utopian thinking and, potentially, revolutionary transformation. Incremental reform within existing structures, he argued, is insufficient. The dominant social forces—military-industrial complexes, corporate lobbies, and entrenched elites—must be displaced by actors committed to the global public good.

For Professor Falk, the form of governance is less important than its orientation toward reality. Addressing existential challenges—climate change, nuclear proliferation, mass poverty—requires political systems that privilege truth, sustainability, and the collective interest over short-term expediency. Intriguingly, he noted, some of the most responsible practices in these areas currently come from China, a state that is highly autocratic and, in many respects, anti-democratic. This paradox raises the possibility that the ecological and geopolitical crises of the twenty-first century may demand post-democratic or post-populist forms of governance if humanity is to survive.

Conclusion

Professor Richard Falk’s presentation was a sweeping indictment of both US democracy and the international order it helped create. He argued that the failures of American democracy—its secrecy, its choicelessness, and its moral corruption—have reverberated globally, eroding trust in the very idea of liberal democracy. Coupled with an ecologically destructive capitalism and a populism hostile to truth, these dynamics leave humanity in a perilous position.

Yet Professor Falk’s talk was not only diagnostic but also prescriptive in spirit. He called for a politics of emancipation grounded in truth-telling, utopian imagination, and global solidarity. Whether through democratic renewal or through new, post-democratic arrangements, he urged that political systems must be reoriented toward the survival and flourishing of the human species. In a dark time, emancipation requires both courage and a willingness to envision radical alternatives.

 

Professor Larry Diamond: “Combatting Authoritarian Populism”

Trump supporters marched toward Capitol Hill on January 6, 2021, in Washington, D.C., USA. Photo: Dreamstime / © Bgrocker

In his presentation, Professor Larry Diamond delivered a sweeping and sobering assessment of the threats facing democracy in the United States and around the world. Framing his remarks against a backdrop of rising authoritarian populism, Professor Diamond emphasized that the global tide of illiberalism is far from cresting. Instead, the forces of democratic backsliding—anchored in right-wing populism—are accelerating across multiple continents, diffusing strategies and legitimizing authoritarian models. Against this international canvas, he examined the United States as a critical battleground, where Donald Trump’s return to power has raised the prospect of a systematic dismantling of liberal democracy.

A Global Wave of Authoritarian Populism

Professor Diamond began by situating current US dynamics within a global context. Across Latin America, he observed, populist models inspired by both Donald Trump and El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele are gaining traction. Chile may soon see a populist restoration, Bolivia and Colombia could follow suit, and Ecuador has already taken a hard turn to the right. These trends reflect a wider diffusion effect: just as democratic activists once drew inspiration from leaders such as Mario Soares in Portugal or Vaclav Havel in Czechoslovakia, today’s populist movements model themselves on figures like Viktor Orbán in Hungary and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan in Turkey.

Europe, too, faces serious risks. Marine Le Pen’s National Rally stands poised to take power in France, while Nigel Farage has become a plausible candidate for prime minister in the United Kingdom. Germany, traditionally a bulwark of liberal democracy, now contends with dynamics of polarized pluralism reminiscent of interwar Europe. In Central and Eastern Europe, right-wing parties are resurgent, with Poland’s Law and Justice (PiS) party threatening hard-won democratic restoration. Taken together, Professor Diamond warned, these developments mark an era of “deeply, dangerously fluid” political polarization.

Trumpism and the Project of Authoritarian Entrenchment

Within this global wave, the United States has reemerged as both a model and a cautionary tale. After returning to the presidency, Trump has pursued a far more methodical strategy to consolidate power, guided by the Heritage Foundation’s Project 2025. This playbook, Professor Diamond explained, echoes Orbán’s transformation of Hungary from a liberal democracy to what he termed an “illiberal non-democracy”—a regime that preserves the appearance of competitive elections while hollowing out checks and balances.

Trump’s project, Professor Diamond warned, has advanced along nearly every step of the authoritarian “12-step program” outlined in his earlier book Ill Winds: Saving Democracy from Russian Rage, Chinese Ambition, and American Complacency. These steps include extreme polarization, demonization of the opposition, systematic attacks on the media, politicization of the courts, and the purge of independent institutions. What distinguishes the current moment, he stressed, is that these efforts are no longer impulsive but deliberate, refined over four years of preparation.

The Assault on Media, Courts, and Institutions

Professor Diamond catalogued the multiple fronts of authoritarian encroachment. Independent media face unprecedented threats from concentrated ownership by Trump-aligned billionaires, such as the Ellison family’s acquisitions of TikTok and Paramount (including CBS News). Once pillars of journalistic independence, these outlets risk being transformed into regime mouthpieces. The trend mirrors patterns in Turkey, Venezuela, and Hungary, where businessmen allied with ruling parties purchased media outlets to neutralize dissent.

The judiciary has likewise been targeted. Inspectors general across federal agencies were summarily dismissed at the outset of Trump’s new administration. Judge Advocate Generals in the Army, Navy, and Air Force—key advisors on constitutional limits within the military—were purged, raising concerns about the politicization of the armed forces. This, Professor Diamond noted, is a particularly ominous development: authoritarian leaders often seek to secure military loyalty as a safeguard against democratic resistance.

Universities, NGOs, and philanthropic foundations are also under attack. As in Hungary, where Orbán vilified George Soros, Trump’s allies have begun targeting major civil society organizations such as the Open Society Foundations and the Ford Foundation. Lawfare—weaponizing legal mechanisms to intimidate and suppress—has become a defining strategy, extending even to efforts to prosecute political opponents like former FBI director James Comey.

Gerrymandering, Lawfare, and Electoral Manipulation

At the electoral level, Trump’s allies have embraced grotesque gerrymandering to entrench minority rule. By redrawing districts with ruthless precision, they aim to secure durable Republican control of the House of Representatives, even without majority support. Echoing Orbán’s tactics in Hungary, such manipulation risks creating a façade of competition while structurally foreclosing alternation in power.

The broader strategy, Professor Diamond explained, is not to abolish elections but to subvert them—maintaining a veneer of democratic legitimacy while ensuring outcomes favorable to the regime. This is why vigilance over the 2026 midterms and 2028 presidential elections is crucial. Without robust mobilization and institutional safeguards, the US risks sliding into electoral authoritarianism.

Intellectual Responsibilities: Rigor and Precision

Responding to the session’s theme of intellectual responsibility, Professor Diamond underscored the importance of terminological clarity. While Trumpism has fascistic elements—such as the stigmatization of minorities and the elevation of a charismatic leader—he cautioned against prematurely labeling the United States a fascist regime. Misusing charged terms, he argued, risks polarizing discourse further and alienating potential allies in the defense of democracy. Instead, scholars must distinguish carefully between illiberal democracy, electoral authoritarianism, and full-fledged authoritarianism. Intellectual rigor, he insisted, is itself a form of civic responsibility.

Lessons for Resisting Authoritarianism

Professor Diamond concluded with several lessons drawn from global experiences of democratic backsliding.

Mobilize early and vigorously:  The sooner authoritarian projects are resisted, the greater the chance of success. Once the bureaucracy, judiciary, and security services are stacked with loyalists, reversing course becomes exponentially harder.

Combine institutional and civic strategies: Courts, legislatures, and oversight mechanisms remain critical tools, even if weakened. Judicial rulings can still draw lines, and regaining control of congressional committees would enable investigations into corruption. At the same time, civil society mobilization is indispensable: protests such as “No Kings Day,” which drew millions into the streets, exemplify the power of mass resistance.

Build broad electoral coalitions: Ultimately, authoritarian leaders are most often defeated at the ballot box. Opposition coalitions must transcend class and identity divides, adopting inclusive strategies that resonate beyond traditional partisan bases. Professor Diamond cited Turkey’s municipal elections, in which campaigns of “radical love” forged unlikely alliances, as an instructive model.

Prioritize economic performance: Voters care most about material conditions. Autocrats often mismanage economies due to corruption and cronyism, creating openings for opposition campaigns focused on bread-and-butter issues. As James Carville’s dictum reminds us: “It’s the economy, stupid.” Professor Diamond noted that Trump’s approval ratings are underwater across all policy areas, including crime and immigration, reflecting widespread dissatisfaction with his governance.

Conclusion

Professor Larry Diamond’s presentation painted a stark picture of democracy under siege. Around the world, populist leaders are modeling themselves not on democratic icons but on illiberal strongmen. In the United States, Donald Trump’s methodical pursuit of power threatens to transform the country into an electoral authoritarian regime. From media capture and judicial purges to gerrymandering and lawfare, the signs are clear: America is far along the authoritarian pathway.

Yet Professor Diamond also offered hope rooted in historical lessons. Authoritarian regimes often collapse under the weight of their corruption, economic mismanagement, and overreach. Intellectuals must contribute with rigor and clarity, resisting hyperbolic labels while documenting authoritarian encroachments. Civil society must mobilize boldly, institutions must be defended, and electoral coalitions must be broadened.

The struggle, Professor Diamond concluded, is urgent but not lost. The fate of American democracy—and its global influence—will hinge on the ability of citizens, scholars, and leaders to confront authoritarianism with courage, precision, and unity.

 

Q&A Highlights 

A Trump flag waves at a pier on Coden Beach in Coden, Alabama, on June 9, 2024. The flag bears the slogan, “Jesus is my Savior. Trump is my President.” Photo: Carmen K. Sisson.

The Q&A session following the panel underscored the urgency and complexity of the challenges facing contemporary democracy. Questions probed deeply into the militarization of politics, the durability of authoritarian regimes, and the prospects for democratic renewal. The exchange illuminated both the dangers at hand and the intellectual responsibility of scholars to frame these dangers with clarity.

Militarization of Politics in the US

The first question raised the issue of Donald Trump’s overt and covert attempts to draw the military into American politics. Referencing the July 4th military parade and the deployment of the National Guard in major US cities including Washington, D.C., and Los Angeles, the questioner asked whether such actions risked militarizing US politics or politicizing the armed forces, with potential implications for other struggling democracies.

Professor Larry Diamond responded with grave concern. He described these moves as “serious, intentional, and very dangerous,” with both symbolic and practical consequences. Beyond rallying an exclusionary nationalism, Trump’s efforts have raised fears of outright constitutional violations. Professor Diamond relayed the warning of a senior retired military officer that Trump might attempt to deploy the National Guard in contested districts during the 2026 congressional elections to interfere with ballot access and recounts. Such maneuvers, he stressed, would mark a decisive step toward authoritarianism, as they seek to build a military apparatus personally loyal to Trump and the MAGA movement.

Professor Julie Ingersoll added another dimension, noting the religious undercurrents in Trump’s ties to figures such as Pete Hegseth, whose deep connections to Christian Reconstructionist networks highlight the fusion of military symbolism with theocratic ideologies. This overlap, she argued, further illustrates the blurred boundaries between religion, politics, and authoritarian aspirations in the US.

Can Authoritarian Regimes Be Reversed?

A second question asked whether history offered examples of authoritarian governments being deposed through democratic means, referencing Armitage’s claim that such reversals are rare. Responding, Professor Diamond acknowledged the difficulty but pointed to Poland as a partial example of democratic restoration, albeit one fraught with constitutional landmines left behind by previous authoritarian-minded governments. He predicted that future reversals would similarly confront dilemmas: how to dismantle authoritarian structures without replicating their illiberal methods.

Professor Diamond rejected the notion that authoritarian projects last indefinitely. Their corruption, failures, and reliance on aging leaders such as Erdoğan, he argued, ultimately erode their viability. New democratic moments do emerge, though they face immense challenges. For the US, the fundamental test will come in the 2026 midterm elections, where the integrity of voting and counting remains the essential condition for democracy.

 

Concluding Reflections by Professor Cengiz Aktar

In his closing remarks, moderator Professor Cengiz Aktar reflected on the themes of the discussion with a sobering tone. He observed that the global zeitgeist had shifted dramatically: no longer are scholars debating how to build democracy, but rather how to prevent its collapse. Echoing Richard Falk’s notion of “dark times,” Professor Aktar emphasized that naming the threat accurately—calling fascism by its name—is essential. Euphemisms, he argued, obscure the gravity of the crisis.

Professor Aktar pointed to both danger and paradox. While populist and authoritarian leaders draw significant mass support, their rise reveals the gap between freedom and democracy. He recalled Professor Mabel Berezin’s warning that invocations of “freedom” are often decoupled from democratic commitments, enabling libertarian and extremist actors to weaponize speech through digital platforms. At the same time, freedom of expression is selectively curtailed, as seen in the suppression of voices denouncing atrocities such as the Gaza genocide.

Ultimately, Professor Aktar concluded that the world is entering an especially perilous period marked by democratic erosion, mass manipulation, and authoritarian resilience. In this context, he stressed the vital role of intellectual gatherings like this one, noting that the ECPS will likely need to convene further forums to analyze and resist these trends. His remarks closed the session on a sober but mobilizing note: intellectuals, activists, and citizens alike must remain vigilant and engaged in defense of democracy.

 

Overall Conclusion

The ECPS panel “From Populism to Fascism? Intellectual Responsibilities in Times of Democratic Backsliding” offered a sobering yet clarifying examination of the forces eroding democracy across the globe. What emerged most clearly is that populism today cannot be dismissed as a passing style of politics or a democratic “correction.” Rather, it increasingly serves as a vehicle for authoritarian entrenchment, exploiting institutions, culture, religion, and technology in ways that carry fascistic echoes.

Professor Mabel Berezin’s analysis highlighted the transformation of US populism into what she termed “social authoritarianism”—a strategy less reliant on militias than on legal, cultural, and intellectual frameworks that dismantle democracy from within. Professor Steven Friedman dismantled the illusion of a pristine democratic past, reminding us that Western models themselves are faltering, especially when they ignore the power of corporate interests and the structural exclusions on which they rest. 

Professor Julie Ingersoll exposed the convergence of Christian dominionists, Catholic integralists, Pentecostal-charismatics, and techno-utopians into a shared anti-democratic coalition—an unlikely but potent fusion united by hostility to pluralism and democracy. Professor Richard Falk placed these developments in global perspective, underscoring the hypocrisy of US democracy promotion, the corrosive effects of secrecy and capitalism, and the urgent need for emancipatory politics grounded in truth-telling and ecological survival. Finally, Professor Larry Diamond warned of deliberate authoritarian projects in the United States, modeled on Orbán and Erdoğan, that weaponize law, gerrymandering, media capture, and even the military to consolidate power.

The Q&A deepened these concerns, particularly around the militarization of politics under Trump and the fragility of democratic reversals. The possibility of deploying the National Guard for electoral interference, as Professor Diamond relayed, illustrates how quickly democratic norms can collapse.

Moderator Cengiz Aktar closed with a stark reminder: the global zeitgeist has shifted. We are no longer asking how to build democracy but how to prevent its collapse. The panelists converged on a central responsibility—that intellectuals must resist euphemism, call authoritarianism and fascism by their names, and provide frameworks that clarify rather than obscure. In an era marked by disinformation, selective freedoms, and systemic crisis, clarity itself becomes a democratic act.

The challenge, then, is twofold: to defend democracy where it still exists and to reimagine it in forms capable of confronting the structural inequalities, ecological perils, and authoritarian tactics of our age.

Students and academics join a protest march in Haifa on September 9, 2023, against Israel’s controversial judicial overhaul. Photo: Dreamstime.

Authoritarianism Curbed? Populism, Democracy and War in Israel

Please cite as:
Ben-Porat, Guy & Filc, Dani. (2025). “Authoritarianism Curbed? Populism, Democracy and War in Israel.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). September 24, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000118

 

Abstract

Since January 2023 hundreds of thousand Israelis took to the streets in an unprecedented wave of protests against the governments’ plan to restrict the power of the Supreme Court. The government, a coalition between the Likud’s populist party, the Ultra-Orthodox and the extreme religious-right announced a legislation package threatening Israel’s institutions’ -limited- liberal constitutionalism, opening the possibility of authoritarianism. Right-wing populism, that in its Israeli version combines populist tropes with religion and nationalism, combined with other radical right parties to form a tight and determined coalition set to transform Israel’s political system into what was described by the government’s opposition as an authoritarian (and theocratic) threat. Notwithstanding the governments’ intentions we argue, using the Israeli case study, that the “slide” from right-wing populism to authoritarianism is not inevitable. First, right-wing populism positions itself as anti-liberal rather than anti-democratic. Consequently, second, it has to contend with a potential opposition, a large one undermining its claim to speak “for the people.” And third, when anti-liberal stance relies also on religious discourse, it not only evokes liberal opposition but also divisions among populists regarding religious authority. These three reasons make authoritarianism a possibility but not an obligatory telos.

Keywords: Israel, populism, democracy, religion, authoritarianism

 

By Guy Ben-Porat & Dani Filc

Introduction

In January 2023 hundreds of thousand Israelis took to the streets in an unprecedented wave of demonstrations against the government’s reform plan depicted as a threat to democracy. The government, a coalition between the Likud, Ultra-Orthodox and the extreme religious-right parties, one hitherto excluded from coalitions, introduced a legislation package that would, according to its opponents, undermine Israel’s democratic institutions, in particular the Supreme Court, and open the way for authoritarianism. The protestors, who took to the streets in the name of liberal democracy, compared the developments in Israel to those in Hungary and Poland, argued that the government plan would not only undermine Israel’s [already limited] democracy but also threaten civil rights, freedom and gender equality. Not only the threat of authoritarianism but also the potential transformation into a theocracy evoked the protests. Coalition agreements and proposed laws, advocated by the religious parties, would, once legislated, it was argued, undermine secular, LGBTQ+, and women’s rights. The protest involved not only large-scale demonstrations for months, but also roadblocks, economic boycotts, appeals to international leaders and media, and even declarations of army reservists they would not report to duty if the proposed legislation would be completed as planned. 

Right-wing populism, that in its Israeli version combines populist tropes with religion and nationalism, combined with other radical right parties to form a tight and determined coalition set to transform Israel’s political system into what was described by the government’s opposition as an authoritarian (and theocratic) threat. Notwithstanding the governments’ intentions we argue, using the Israeli case study, that the “slide” from right-wing populism to authoritarianism is not inevitable. First, right-wing populism positions itself as anti-liberal rather than anti-democratic. Consequently, second, it has to contend with a potential opposition, a large one undermining its claim to speak “for the people.” And third, when anti-liberal stance relies also on religious discourse it not only evokes liberal opposition but also divisions among populists regarding religious authority. These three reasons make authoritarianism a possibility but not an obligatory telos.

It is impossible to predict whether authoritarianism was curbed, even more so in light of the war in Gaza after Hamas attack in October 2023. Rather, our purpose is more modest, to highlight the inconsistencies within right-wing populism that enable opposition and potentially prevent authoritarianism based on the experience from Israel. Accordingly, we ask, first, looking beyond instrumental benefits, what explains the formation of a coalition between different expressions of radical right and religious fundamentalism? Second, how the anti-liberal and anti-democratic trends and commitment to religious ideas and identities combine and contrast in the government’s plan? And third, how have the anti-liberal and anti-democratic threat of Israeli right-wing populism enabled the opposition? 

Read Full Article Here

Kenneth Roth is the Charles and Marie Robertson Visiting Professor at the Princeton School for Public and International Affairs. Until August 2022, he served for nearly three decades as the executive director of Human Rights Watch, one of the world’s leading international human rights organizations, which operates in some 100 countries.

Professor Roth: Israel Exploits Antisemitism Allegations to Silence Criticism of Genocide in Gaza

In an exclusive ECPS interview, Professor Kenneth Roth—former Executive Director of Human Rights Watch and now at Princeton—warns that Israel is cynically using charges of antisemitism to shield what he calls genocide and mass atrocities in Gaza. “Netanyahu and his supporters are not defending Jews worldwide,” Professor Roth stresses. “They are sacrificing them—cheapening the very concept of antisemitism just when it is most needed.” Drawing on three decades of human rights leadership, Professor Roth situates Israel’s narrative strategy within a broader authoritarian playbook: populist leaders tilt elections, capture institutions, and scapegoat minorities while silencing dissent. His central warning is stark: criticism of Israel is not antisemitism, and blurring this line endangers both Palestinians and Jews worldwide.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this exclusive ECPS interview, Professor Kenneth Roth—longtime executive director of Human Rights Watch and now Charles and Marie Robertson Visiting Professor at the Princeton School for Public and International Affairs—warns that the Israeli government is cynically using allegations of antisemitism to silence criticism of what he describes as genocide and mass atrocities in Gaza. “Netanyahu and his supporters are not defending Jews worldwide,” Professor Roth stresses. “They are sacrificing them—cheapening the very concept of antisemitism just when it is most needed.” For him, conflating criticism of Israel with antisemitism not only shields state crimes but also undermines real protections against anti-Jewish hatred.

Professor Roth’s reflections build on more than three decades of global human rights advocacy. At Human Rights Watch, which he directed until August 2022, he oversaw the organization’s expansion into one of the world’s leading rights watchdogs, active in about 100 countries. Earlier, he worked as a federal prosecutor in New York and on the Iran-Contra investigation in Washington. From that vantage, he situates Israel’s narrative strategy within a wider pattern of populist-fueled authoritarianism. Today’s autocrats, Professor Roth argues, “still crave elections but tilt the playing field,”systematically undermining courts, capturing media, restricting NGOs, and intimidating universities. Democracy, he insists, cannot be reduced to ballots alone—it requires freedoms of expression, association, and the rule of law, all under attack.

Even amid authoritarian resurgence, Professor Roth emphasizes the power of coalitions of democratic, rights-respecting states. He recalls decisive breakthroughs such as the treaty banning landmines and the Rome Statute establishing the International Criminal Court (ICC)—both achieved despite superpower opposition. More recent successes, from UN oversight of the Saudi-led bombing campaign in Yemen to European-Turkish pressure curbing Russian strikes in Syria, show that principled middle-power alliances still matter. NGOs, too, must remain unwaveringly consistent: “Our work doesn’t distinguish between perceived friend and foe—we apply the same standards to everybody,” Professor Roth explains. That consistency, he argues, sustains credibility and strengthens the politics of shaming.

The interview traverses urgent contemporary debates: Trump’s embrace of authoritarian leaders, his sanctions on the ICC, and his “flood-the-zone” tactic of overwhelming institutions with constant shocks. Professor Roth dissects the dangers of scapegoating minorities, the misuse of Holocaust memory to excuse present atrocities, and the precedent of blurring law enforcement with war in extrajudicial killings. At every step, he insists that human rights must not be selectively applied or subordinated to cynical populist narratives.

Taken together, Professor Roth’s insights offer both a sobering indictment and a pragmatic roadmap: exposing the authoritarian logic that links populism, repression, and impunity, while affirming that principled coalitions and civil society can still defend rights. Above all, his warning is clear: criticism of Israel is not antisemitism—and protecting the integrity of that distinction is essential for Jews worldwide, Palestinians under siege, and the universality of human rights.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Kenneth Roth, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

Autocrats Still Crave Elections but Tilt the Playing Field

Nested dolls depicting world autocrats Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump and Recep Erdogan on the counter of souvenirs in Moscow

Thank you so much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In your recent writings, you stress the fragility of checks against authoritarian drift and note how today’s rulers “raise the cost” for defenders by targeting courts, media, and NGOs. What, in your view, makes this current wave of populist-fueled democratic backsliding distinct from earlier authoritarian surges, particularly in the subtler tactics of regulation, funding, and legal harassment?

Professor Kenneth Roth: I’m not sure it’s completely unique, but clearly autocrats are learning from each other. The current wave is characterized foremost by what you might call electoral authoritarianism. That is, autocratic leaders who still want the legitimacy of an election but use the steps of the autocrat’s handbook to undercut checks and balances on their authority and to tilt the electoral playing field in their favor.

It’s pretty straightforward what they do: they target the various potential checks on their authority—courts, lawyers, journalists, academics, civil society—and use different techniques to undermine their independence. With the media, for example, outlets may be owned by large corporate conglomerates vulnerable to government pressure. We’re seeing that in the United States right now. It could also take the form of regulations that make it harder for civil society to secure funding, particularly from abroad. Sometimes it’s direct attacks, such as withholding funding, which we’re now seeing Trump do with universities.

These are variations on a theme, but the aim is always the same: to stymie and weaken the elements that sustain democracy. Because democracy is not just about elections. It is about the freedoms of expression, association, and assembly, as well as the rule of law that holds leaders accountable to the law and to the rights it embodies. And these autocrats are intent on undercutting those checks. It’s pretty clear.

Coalitions of Democracies Can Overcome Superpower Opposition

You have argued that coalitions of mid-sized states—beyond the West—can sometimes defend human rights more effectively than major powers, urging leverage toward countries like India, Brazil, South Africa, Japan, and even China. Two decades on, do you still see these “plural centers of pressure” as the backbone of rights defense, or has today’s fractured multilateralism, intensified authoritarian entrenchment, and the rise of populist geopolitics blunted that strategy—and what would an updated map of leverage look like?

Professor Kenneth Roth: I wouldn’t say that coalitions are better than the major powers, but that they can serve as substitutes when the major powers stand in opposition. At this stage, when the US government has essentially stopped promoting human rights, I don’t think we should just throw in the cards and give up. There have been many cases in the past where coalitions of governments have compensated for the absence—or even the opposition—of the US government, not to mention the Soviet or Russian government, or the Chinese government. I describe this in my book Riding Wrongs, where repeatedly, coalitions of democratic, rights-respecting governments, when banded together, have had the moral authority to overcome superpower opposition.

That’s what happened with the treaty to ban landmines. All the major powers opposed it, yet a group of about 60 governments—a coalition that Human Rights Watch and our colleagues helped to build—overcame that opposition. We ended up sharing the Nobel Peace Prize for that effort. Something very similar occurred with the creation of the International Criminal Court (ICC). You may recall the Clinton administration was adamantly opposed to a court that could even theoretically prosecute an American. That was not its idea of justice. Yet in the final vote in Rome in 1998, the US lost overwhelmingly—120 to 7—marking a decisive victory for the rule of law.

More recently, as I describe in my book, despite a lack of any assistance, if not outright opposition, from Washington, a group of governments led by the Netherlands secured oversight from the UN Human Rights Council of the Saudi-led coalition’s bombing in Yemen—making a huge difference in terms of saving civilian lives. Another coalition, involving Germany, France, and Turkey, pressured Putin in March 2020 to stop bombing the three million civilians in Idlib province in Syria, the last area at the time held by the armed opposition.

These are just a few among many examples showing how coalitions of governments can effectively defend human rights—not only without Washington, but often despite its opposition.

NGOs Must Be Principled—Apply the Same Standards to All

Since major powers like the US, Russia, and China routinely instrumentalize human rights for geopolitical ends, how should NGOs and the broader rights community rethink their strategy—balancing naming-and-shaming with ally-seeking—while avoiding the slide from principled engagement into complicity in populist or authoritarian projects?

Professor Kenneth Roth: The idea that governments instrumentalize human rights is nothing new. This has always happened. If you just go back historically, there was a tendency during the Cold War to highlight the human rights abuses of one’s opponents and neglect the human rights abuses of one’s allies. So, this has always been a problem. I think the role that NGOs should play is to be principled. That is to say, to ensure that our work doesn’t distinguish between perceived friend and foe, but that we apply the same standards to everybody. That enhances the capacity to shame, because people understand that when human rights groups condemn somebody, when we spotlight a government’s abuse, we’re not pursuing some geopolitical strategy. We are pursuing a universal, principled effort.

Now, shaming is never the only thing that human rights groups do. We also enlist influential allies to try to put diplomatic or economic pressure on a target government, and I describe this in my book. These are important supplements to the process of shaming.

The fact that governments are selective in their defense of human rights does undermine their credibility, but doesn’t preclude our ability to enlist them, because frankly, nobody is consistent. So, we try to enlist allies where we can, push them to be more principled. But we don’t have a rule that you’ve got to be perfect before we enlist you, because then we’d enlist nobody. We’ve got to be a bit more pragmatic than that and try to maximize pressure on a target government from any credible source that we can find.

Trump Isn’t Blurring Lines—He’s Embracing Authoritarianism

This editorial image, captured in Belgrade, Serbia, showcases an array of novelty socks featuring the likenesses of Vladimir Putin, Aleksandr Lukashenko, Viktor Orban, and Donald Trump in Belgrade, Serbia on December 12, 2024. Photo: Jerome Cid.

Trump’s open admiration for autocrats such as Putin, Bolsonaro, Erdogan, and Netanyahu blurs distinctions between democracy and authoritarianism, while also resonating with a global populist style that treats rights as obstacles to “the people’s will.” To what extent has Trump shifted the normative boundaries of US foreign policy on human rights, and what does this mean for the wider contest between populism and rights-based democracy?

Professor Kenneth Roth: First, I would not say that Trump is blurring the distinction between democracy and authoritarianism. He’s simply embracing authoritarianism. I don’t think anybody believes that because Trump embraces Putin, suddenly Putin is a democrat. That’s absurd. Trump, as an aspiring autocrat, admires leaders who have managed to secure autocratic power for themselves. That’s what he does. And we obviously have to push back against that.

This is a bad period for US foreign policy, but it’s not the first time we’ve seen something like this. Think back to the George W. Bush administration, when the so-called global war on terrorism became an excuse not only to support abusive governments but also to engage in severe human rights abuses by the US government itself—systematic torture and the use of Guantanamo for endless detention without trial.

We have seen this flouting, this unwillingness to abide by human rights standards emanating from Washington before. Our job in the human rights movement is to spotlight complicity in human rights violations, or responsibility for them, when the government behaves inconsistently, and to push for it to be even slightly less inconsistent. Fortunately, the American people—and I think this is also true globally—want a more consistent human rights policy.

That’s why spotlighting inconsistency is valuable, because it forces leaders like Trump to pay a political price. When he is seen as aiding and abetting genocide in Gaza, we can already see the effect on US public opinion. People are turning against Israel; they are upset with the unconditional US support for Israel. We’ve seen Trump react to that somewhat already—not sufficiently—but this effort is worthwhile. Ultimately, this is how we can pressure Trump to do the one thing that would end the genocide: suspend or condition massive US arms sales and military aid to Israel until the genocide stops.

Rulings Mean Little Without Government Backing

You’ve argued that “democracy” without rights is easily gamed by “despots masquerading as democrats.” After the ICJ advisory opinion(s) and an emboldened ICC, can international courts still constrain leaders amid intensified lawfare and sanctions against judges/prosecutors? What insulating reforms (treaty, funding, travel protections) matter most?

Professor Kenneth Roth: There’s a lot in that question, so let me try to dissect it a bit. First, when despots masquerade as democrats, it means they still hold periodic elections, but they tilt the playing field so much that the elections become meaningless. This can be a dangerous endeavor. Take Viktor Orban in Hungary or Erdogan in Turkey: they are classic autocrats who still hold competitive elections but with very severe limitations. Orban today faces a serious challenger in Peter Magyar, who is charismatic and has united the opposition. It may not work for him. Erdogan went so far as to lock up his main opponent because, according to the polls, that opponent was going to win. His party had already won the major mayoral elections in Istanbul, Ankara, Izmir, and elsewhere. The more an autocrat moves toward a zombie election—that is, one with zero credibility—the more they lose the very legitimacy they seek. That’s what Daniel Ortega did in Nicaragua, Museveni in Uganda, Putin in Russia, and Lukashenko in Belarus. They hold electoral charades, but no one is fooled, and they simply become dictators.

I don’t view international courts as particularly effective against these kinds of autocratic attacks on democracy. The courts are more useful in addressing mass atrocities. For example, with the International Court of Justice (ICJ) and the International Criminal Court (ICC) entering the fray in Gaza, and with the ICC charging Putin and four generals for Ukraine, these are important efforts. They may someday lead to actual trials in The Hague. Even short of that, they are incredibly stigmatizing. They mean that these leaders cannot travel to the 125 ICC member states without risking arrest.

Of course, an ICJ judgment or an ICC arrest warrant does not self-execute. They don’t automatically constrain leaders because these Hague-based courts don’t have police forces; they depend on governments for enforcement. That’s always a problem. So, we need governments that claim to uphold the rule of law to act consistently with these rulings. Take the ICJ advisory opinion on the illegality of Israel’s endless occupation: governments should now ensure they do nothing to support that occupation. On the ICC, Trump outrageously imposed sanctions on the ICC prosecutor, the two deputies, and six judges. It’s important, particularly for the European Union, to use its so-called blocking statute to neutralize those sanctions so that judges and prosecutors can continue to access their bank funds and operate normally.

I would also encourage the prosecutor to examine whether this constitutes obstruction of justice—a violation of Article 70 of the Rome Statute—which I think it clearly does. One option would be to actually charge Trump for this blatant interference with an independent institution of justice. So, there is plenty that still can be done, but we shouldn’t deceive ourselves into thinking that international courts, simply by issuing rulings, automatically change the world. They need the backing of governments.

Being a Drug Trafficker Doesn’t Make You a Combatant

In critiquing Trump’s extrajudicial killings of Venezuelan traffickers, you warned of the drift from policing to “war” rules in law enforcement. If such precedents take hold—turning metaphorical wars on drugs or terror into literal grounds for lethal force—what global spillovers do you foresee, and what bright-line doctrines should civil society insist on to prevent their entrenchment?

Professor Kenneth Roth: First, let me explain the two sets of rules that govern the use of lethal force. In war, you’re allowed to shoot combatants on the other side, and unless they’re surrendering or injured and thus out of combat, you can shoot to kill. There is no duty to detain them. By contrast, in law enforcement situations, it’s almost the opposite: lethal force can be used only as a last resort to meet an imminent threat of death or serious physical injury. It is an extremely limited use of lethal force; otherwise, the duty is to arrest and prosecute.

Now, Trump has ignored that distinction. He has declared Venezuelan suspected drug traffickers—people we have no real knowledge about—and has, in three separate incidents, blown up boats and killed those on board, simply on the claim that they were traffickers. But being a drug trafficker does not make you a combatant. There is no war, no armed conflict here. If you believe Trump’s account, these people were committing crimes and should have been arrested and prosecuted. The US Coast Guard is fully capable of interdicting these boats, detaining the suspects, bringing them to Miami or elsewhere, and prosecuting them.

Trump is disregarding the strict law enforcement rules on lethal force by declaring this a “war,” and therefore claiming the right to shoot to kill. That is an incredibly dangerous precedent, because he could label anyone a combatant or terrorist—terms he wrongly uses interchangeably. But even terrorists are criminals who must be prosecuted, not summarily executed. We have to be very careful here, because what’s to stop him from declaring a war on civil society or a war on the political opposition and then justifying killings on that basis?

This is a very dangerous precedent. Even though drug traffickers are unpopular, it is essential to start with the principle: even if they are suspected traffickers, they should not simply be blown up. They have the right to be detained, charged, and prosecuted if the administration’s claims are true. That is why it is crucial not to let metaphorical wars on drugs or terrorism be transformed into literal wars that substitute the narrow rules on lethal force in law enforcement with the much more permissive rules governing armed conflict—which this clearly is not.

How Populist Autocrats Weaponize Minorities to Mask Their Failures

Border Patrol agents monitor an anti-ICE protest in downtown Los Angeles, June 8, 2025. Demonstrators rallied against expanded ICE operations and in support of immigrant rights. Photo: Dreamstime.

You’ve tracked how strongman admiration and majoritarian claims corrode protections for minorities and migrants. Has Trump’s second term normalized an executive theory of unfettered discretion that will outlast him in US foreign policy—and how should allies signal costs early to deter that stickiness?

Professor Kenneth Roth: As you’re suggesting in your question, populist autocrats frequently rally support by demonizing some unpopular minority in their country. It could be immigrants, LGBT people, or Muslims—it varies from country to country. It is very important to push back against this. Typically, they resort to such tactics to divert attention from their lack of a political program that could actually address the economic and political needs of their base. Usually, their base is the ethnic majority working class.

When you see leaders demonizing immigrants or LGBT people, you can almost be certain there is no serious program to help the working class. Trump is a perfect example. He loves to demonize immigrants. Then he puts forward a massive economic plan that cuts taxes for his cronies while eliminating healthcare for many who need it. This doesn’t help the working class—it decimates it.

It’s important to expose this sleight of hand—the use of scapegoating unpopular minorities to distract from harmful economic policies. So, what’s the best way to push back? First and foremost, by defending the rights of these minorities. We cannot pretend that an attack on one unpopular group will stop there. In fact, I often view attacks on LGBT people as the canary in the coal mine for broader assaults on civil society. Those almost always follow.

We need to recognize the path populist autocrats are taking and nip it in the bud. We cannot ignore the early stages just because the victims are unpopular. This is a well-trodden path, and it must be stopped at the outset.

Countering Trump’s Flood-the-Zone Strategy

You’ve described Trump’s “flood-the-zone” strategy—overwhelming opponents and institutions with constant shocks—as a hallmark of autocratic playbooks. From the resistance you’ve observed, what lessons proved transferable to other democracies under stress, and which were context-specific wins?

Professor Kenneth Roth: I’m not sure that Trump’s flood-the-zone strategy is typical. It’s pretty unique to Trump. It especially characterized his first few months in this second term, when there was one outrage after another, day after day, and people were so busy responding to yesterday’s crisis that they didn’t know where to start with today’s. Now it has slowed down a bit, but he continues to use the tactic—finding some new provocation every few days to divert attention from what he had already done.

The key for the targets of these efforts is not to let themselves be overwhelmed but to band together and coordinate their defense. We didn’t always see that in the United States. For example, certain universities, like Columbia, cut deals with the Trump administration, while others have since taken a more principled stand and joined forces. Some big law firms also cut deals, while others chose to fight back in court—and are now winning. Trump has also turned his threats toward civil society, but here too, many large progressive private foundations have banded together, issuing a joint statement declaring that they will not be divided and will fight back collectively.

That kind of collective response—the refusal to let Trump pick off opponents one at a time, as he has done with certain media outlets—is essential. When a powerful government can target one victim at a time, the victims usually lose. But when it faces a coordinated defense, the chances of success rise significantly.

When Sovereignty Becomes Impunity

The flag in front of the International Criminal Court in The Hague, Netherlands on March 27, 2016. Photo: Dreamstime.

Trump’s sanctions on the ICC—aimed at blocking investigations of Israel and US officials—highlight how powerful states can obstruct accountability through jurisdictional caveats and intimidation. What does this precedent mean for the enforceability of international criminal law, and what enforcement pathways remain viable to safeguard prosecutorial independence?

Professor Kenneth Roth: When you say jurisdictional caveats, I think what you’re referring to is that the Trump administration, like the US government for much of the last 20-plus years, has objected to the International Criminal Court’s so-called territorial jurisdiction. That is, the court can prosecute anybody who commits a crime on the territory of a member state. Going back to the Clinton administration, the US government hated that because it meant that American military personnel could theoretically be prosecuted if they committed a crime on the territory of a member state. That’s why the US government was so outraged, in the first Trump administration, when the ICC opened an investigation into Afghanistan—because there was fear that Bush-era torturers, many of whose worst crimes were committed there, might be subject to prosecution. Now, that turned out to be more of a theoretical concern, but that’s the territorial jurisdiction the US government has always objected to.

Ironically, when that same territorial jurisdiction was used by the ICC to charge Putin for crimes committed in Ukraine, everything changed. Biden called it justified. Lindsey Graham, the leading Republican senator who had always opposed the ICC, suddenly said, “I’ve changed my mind, we support the ICC now.” He even pushed through a unanimous resolution, and the Senate upheld what the ICC had done. That remained the case until that same territorial jurisdiction was used to charge Netanyahu for crimes committed in Gaza, in Palestine—a member state. Then suddenly it was back to outrage. The US position has been utterly unprincipled. Fortunately, nobody else accepts that. As I mentioned, the US lost its efforts to block territorial jurisdiction in Rome at the outset by a vote of 120 to 7. This is a losing proposition, and the key is for the 125 member states to reaffirm their support for territorial jurisdiction.

Of course, a state should be able to say, in a time of crisis, if our courts are not working—if we can’t prosecute people who commit crimes on our territory ourselves—we should be able to delegate that power to the ICC. That should be an inherent aspect of sovereignty. For the US to say, “Oh, well, because we’re American, we can commit a crime on your territory with impunity”—that’s crazy. If I, as an American citizen, were to go to Brussels and murder somebody, is it an affront to American sovereignty if Belgium prosecutes me? Obviously not. So why would it be an affront to American sovereignty if, under extreme circumstances, Belgium delegates that prosecutorial power to the ICC? This is normal. But the US insists on American exceptionalism when it comes to the rule of law. Nobody buys that, and governments should find ways to push back.

The Vanity Lever: Using Trump’s Ego to Pressure for Human Rights

You’ve suggested Trump’s transactional ego—the “vanity lever”—can sometimes be used to pressure him on rights. How realistic is it to constrain authoritarian choices through vanity appeals, and where should we draw the ethical line between pragmatism and entrenching cynical politics?

Professor Kenneth Roth: What I’ve written about is that if you approach Trump frontally and say, support human rights, he’ll probably look at you and say, what are those? This is not a guy who is going to openly support human rights. But, as I describe in my book, the process of shaming always has to look at the target and figure out what they care about. In Trump’s case, what he cares about is his self-declared reputation as a master negotiator. In his book The Art of the Deal, he defines what he thinks is great about himself.

That gives us some leverage. For one, he wants a Nobel Peace Prize. Fine—you’re not going to get a Nobel Peace Prize by endorsing the mass ethnic cleansing of Palestinians from Gaza. You’ll get the Nobel Peace Prize by actually securing a just peace, including recognition of a Palestinian state. Another effective strategy is to spotlight how Putin in Ukraine and Netanyahu in Gaza are actually bamboozling Trump. They’re manipulating him, they’re playing games with this supposed master negotiator, and Trump looks naive.

He hates that. This is a guy with a fragile ego who doesn’t like criticism. If people are laughing at him, ridicule is horrible when you’re an autocrat. So, I think that provides an opportunity. We’re already seeing some movement by Trump in Ukraine. He has not yet imposed the so-called severe consequences he promised if Putin continues to obstruct ceasefire negotiations, but his rhetoric has become somewhat tougher. In the case of Gaza, we also see Trump distancing himself in certain ways from Netanyahu—for example, rejecting Netanyahu’s false claim that there is no starvation in Gaza, criticizing him for attacking the Hamas negotiators in Qatar, and twice imposing temporary ceasefires.

So, there is some distance there. I think we just need to keep pushing, with the aim of getting Trump to do the right thing for the wrong reasons. I don’t think that’s cynical—it’s simply pragmatic. If that’s what it takes to stop mass atrocities, I’ll do it.

When Ethnic Cleansing Becomes a Defense to Genocide

Destruction in Shejayia, Gaza City, Gaza Strip. Photo: Dreamstime.

You’ve argued that Israel’s actions in Gaza meet the Genocide Convention through killings and life-destroying conditions, even alongside ethnic-cleansing motives. How do you answer critics who say genocidal intent is unproven, and what evidence most strongly supports its inference under current ICJ standards?

Professor Kenneth Roth: If you look at either the extent of the killing or the imposition of conditions of life designed to destroy, in whole or in part, an ethnic or national group, what’s going on in Gaza is clearly genocide. At this point, the clearest example is the imposition of mass starvation, mass deprivation, and the wholesale destruction—today of Gaza City, but overall of all Gaza. The aim, quite clearly, is to make Gaza unlivable so that it becomes “humane” to then force everybody out into Egypt. The ultimate aim here is ethnic cleansing, a supposed solution to the Israeli-Palestinian conflict by getting rid of the Palestinians—first in Gaza, and then later in the occupied West Bank. That’s clearly what’s going on.

The only real challenge here—you mentioned the International Court of Justice standards—is that the court ruled in the Croatia v. Serbia case more than a decade ago that if you are going to infer genocidal intent from conduct, it has to be the only possible inference. I think that’s a wrong standard. They are going to have to re-examine it, because in effect what they have said is that the motive of ethnic cleansing becomes a defense to genocide, which makes no sense. To prove genocidal intent, the standard should be absolute: are you clearly demonstrating genocidal intent? The fact that there may be a mixed motive—that there may be genocide in the service of something else—is often how genocide takes place.

So, I do think the ICJ will have to revisit its standards. It will have an opportunity in the Gambia v. Myanmar case concerning the Rohingya, where something very similar occurred. The Myanmar army killed, say, 10,000 Rohingya in order to force 730,000 to flee into Bangladesh. That was genocide as a means to mass ethnic cleansing. I hope the court uses that case, which will come first, to re-examine its standards, to find that the conduct does permit an inference of genocidal intent. That would then also apply positively to the case of Gaza.

Criticism of Israel Is Not Antisemitism

Election billboard showing Netanyahu shaking hands with Trump, with the slogan “Netanyahu. Another League,” in Jerusalem on September 16, 2019. Photo: Dreamstime.

You’ve warned that equating criticism of Israel with antisemitism both silences accountability and weakens real protections for Jews. What are the dangers of this conflation, and what concrete standards can help distinguish legitimate criticism from antisemitic incitement without suppressing dissent?

Professor Kenneth Roth: That’s an important question. Let me begin by saying that the problem of antisemitism is an acute one today facing Jews around the world, and it has become much more intense since October 7, 2023. So, this is a genuine problem. But what we’ve seen is that Netanyahu, the Israeli government, and some of its supporters are using charges of antisemitism to try to silence criticism of Israel’s genocide and mass atrocities in Gaza.

That’s a very cynical move, because it cheapens a concept that is badly needed. If people come to see claims of antisemitism as just an effort to change the subject and defend Israel’s inexcusable conduct in Gaza, they will become cynical about antisemitism at the very moment we need it to remain a viable concept. In effect, what Netanyahu and his supporters are doing is sacrificing Jews around the world for the benefit of the Israeli government. They’re basically saying: we’re going to throw Jews worldwide under the bus. Who cares if you face antisemitism? Who cares if we’re cheapening the concept? All we care about is defending the Israeli government. That’s a horrible thing to do—but that, in essence, is what the Netanyahu government is doing.

Now, are there standards on antisemitism? Yes. The standard that legitimizes this cynical approach is the International Holocaust Remembrance Alliance (IHRA) working definition of antisemitism. The way it’s been interpreted has lent itself to saying that criticism of Israel, or efforts to demonize Israel, are somehow antisemitic.

There are two far superior definitions of antisemitism: the Jerusalem Declaration and the Nexus Document. The reason they are superior is that they make explicit that mere criticism of Israeli misconduct is not antisemitic. They define antisemitism in positive terms similarly, but they also include negative examples to make clear that antisemitism should never be weaponized to shield Israeli misconduct.

So, if the concern is truly antisemitism, people should adopt the Jerusalem Declaration or the Nexus Document. But if the concern is simply defending Israel while throwing Jews around the world to their fate, then go with the IHRA definition.

“Never Again” Means Never Again for All

You argue that Israel’s invocation of “never again” and its Holocaust halo have been weaponized to justify present atrocities. How has this complicated recognition of genocidal conduct, and how can we honor historical victimhood without letting it serve as a blank check—while restoring legal clarity around proportionality and civilian protection?

Professor Kenneth Roth: As you suggest, the Israeli government, much like the Rwandan government, cites the Holocaust for Jews and the Rwandan genocide to suggest that the current government is somehow above it all. The logic is: how could the victims of genocide, in turn, commit mass atrocities? Obviously, that’s illogical, but they use the argument implicitly to try to defend the indefensible.

For me, “never again” doesn’t mean never again except for Israel, never again except for Rwanda. It means never again for anybody. Part of the advantage the Israeli government has is that when people think about genocide, they tend to focus on the Holocaust or the Rwandan genocide, where the aim, after a certain point, was to kill every Jew or every Tutsi that could be found.

But if you read the Genocide Convention—the treaty that defines genocide and that many governments have ratified—genocide can be aimed at destroying a group in whole, as in the Holocaust or Rwanda, or in part. This is where the Holocaust and Rwandan examples can mislead, because it is also genocide if you target part of a group, either for killing or through conditions of life that bring about their partial destruction. That is what defines Gaza today. The Israeli government is not trying to kill every single Palestinian. But it is trying to kill enough Palestinians and deprive them with enough severity that they are forced to flee into Egypt. Genocide with an intent to destroy a group in part is what’s really going on here. The Holocaust leads us astray because that’s not what it was about. So, we need to read the Genocide Convention as written and recognize that the Holocaust alone does not define genocide. There are other forms—such as the one playing out in Gaza today.

Past Genocides Do Not Justify Present Atrocities

And lastly, you’ve drawn parallels between Kagame’s Rwanda and Netanyahu’s Israel in weaponizing past victimhood to justify present crimes. How can the human rights community dismantle such narratives without denying past genocides, and which accountability tools—aid conditionality, arms suspensions, or regional pressure—have proven most effective against such impunity politics?

Professor Kenneth Roth: As I mentioned, both Netanyahu and Kagame play on past genocide to divert attention from their current mass atrocities—Netanyahu in Gaza, and Kagame through both his repression at home and, most acutely, his invasion of Eastern Democratic Republic of Congo through his own forces as well as the proxy M23 rebel group.

The goal of the human rights community is obviously not to deny the Holocaust or the Rwandan genocide. These are facts, these are horrific episodes in human history. But the point is to say: “Yes, they happened, but they don’t excuse present abuses.” So, we have to carefully document what’s happening in Congo and in Gaza and press for real pressure to stop it.

That pressure can and should include economic measures. Sadly, the European Union—while many of its members are recognizing a Palestinian state—has yet to suspend Israel’s trade benefits, despite vows from Commission President von der Leyen to do so soon. In eastern Congo, back in 2012, a similar Rwandan invasion via the M23 was stopped in its tracks when the US and British governments told Kagame they would cut off aid unless he withdrew. Within days, the M23 crumbled. Today, that isn’t happening. Trump cut a deal allowing Rwanda to stay and exploit the minerals.

So, we need to look at what has worked in the past, namely intense economic pressure. I would like to see the International Criminal Court (ICC)—which has already acted in part in Gaza—do much more and also extend its action to eastern Congo. It has done so in the past, but not with respect to this current invasion. Plenty of steps remain available to help rein in Kagame and Netanyahu and to stop their misuse of past atrocities as an excuse for committing new ones today.

The municipality office in Inaruwa, Sunsari, lies heavily damaged after protesters targeted it during the nationwide demonstrations against corruption and the social media shutdown on September 9, 2025. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula

Professor Paudel: The Youth Uprising in Nepal Is the Result of Long-Brewing Frustrations

In an interview with the ECPS, Professor Dinesh Paudel argues that the September 2025 youth uprising in Nepal was “the result of long-brewing frustrations.” Far from a sudden outburst, he situates the revolt at the intersection of elite failure, geopolitical maneuvering, and structural economic decline. Young Nepalis, caught in what he calls a “triple disjuncture” of mass migration, precarious labor markets, and digital mobilization, transformed simmering anger into protest. Yet Professor Paudel cautions against viewing it as a revolution: “It will not fundamentally alter the political structure that produced these conditions.” Professor Paudel highlights corruption as the “governing logic of elite power” and signals volatile struggles over Nepal’s political and economic future.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The September 2025 uprising in Nepal has been described by analysts as a “Gen Z revolution,” but as Professor Dinesh Paudel emphasizes, “It was already brewing. This kind of uprising and discontent had been in the making for a long time.” In an exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Paudel—Professor in the Department of Sustainable Development at Appalachian State University—offers a critical interpretation of the forces driving this moment of rupture. His central argument is clear: “The youth uprising in Nepal is the result of long-brewing frustrations.”

These frustrations, he explains, stem from a convergence of structural, political, and geopolitical factors. Domestic elites failed to adapt to generational aspirations, leaving young Nepalis alienated from politics and unable to envision themselves in the nation’s future. At the same time, external pressures intensified: “Nepal sits right where these possibilities converge, at the center of the Himalaya and at the heart of what some call a Second Cold War, especially between China and the West.” Such tensions, combined with India’s long-standing dissatisfaction with Nepal’s constitutional framework and a dependent, deindustrialized economy, created the combustible conditions for revolt. Social media then amplified negativity and spread the belief “that nothing works in Nepal and that something else must come—even though that ‘something else’ was never really thought through.

Professor Paudel situates this eruption within what he calls a “triple disjuncture” confronting Nepal’s youth: mass migration, precarious labor markets, and the expansion of the digital public sphere. These forces, layered onto chronic inequality and unemployment, have generated new forms of political subjectivity—angry, aspirational, yet fragile. “I would not call this a youth revolution—it is not,” Professor Paudel cautions. Instead, he views it as part of a recurring cycle in Nepal’s modern history: “Every decade Nepal has seen movements—the democratic movement, the Maoist movement—and young people have always been at the center.

At the same time, Professor Paudel underscores that symbolic battles—such as the viral backlash against “nepo-babies”—have sharpened frustrations against entrenched entitlement. These spectacles, he argues, expose the persistence of a “feudal political structure still dominant in the country.” Yet he warns that generational framings risk obscuring deeper inequalities rooted in class, caste, and land.

Ultimately, Professor Paudel interprets corruption not as an aberration but as the very “governing logic of elite power.” For him, corruption sustains both domestic hierarchies and Nepal’s insertion into a regional and global economic order defined by dependency. Without profound restructuring—particularly rebuilding a national productive base—Professor Paudel doubts the present movement will transform Nepal’s political economy.

And yet, he insists that youth frustration is real and points toward new possibilities. “What they are seeking in the future is post-elite—some kind of egalitarian economic and political system.” Whether such aspirations can overcome entrenched interests and regional constraints remains an open question—but the long-brewing discontent that exploded in September 2025 ensures that Nepal has entered a volatile new era.

Professor Dinesh Paudel is a Professor in the Department of Sustainable Development at Appalachian State University.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Dinesh Paudel, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

Elite Failure, Geopolitics, and Youth Anger Collide

Professor Dinesh Paudel, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Analysts describe the September 2025 uprising as a Gen Z revolution, yet youth mobilization in Nepal has a long genealogy. From your perspective, what specific social, economic, and political configurations enabled this generation to rupture the cycle of elite reproduction where earlier movements failed—and how do corruption, nepotism, and entrenched elite dominance fit into the deeper structural drivers that made such an eruption possible now?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: Thank you for this great question. It’s long overdue. It was already brewing. This kind of uprising and discontent had been in the making for a long time.
But the current conjuncture has multiple factors coming together, leading to this eruption.

One factor is the internal political dynamics within the parties. They were not able to understand the new generation’s aspirations. They also failed to govern in a way that allowed the young generation to see themselves in politics and in the future of the nation. That’s one of the main factors—the internal failure of the party system. The internal conjuncture of power dynamics ruptured.

The second important point is geopolitical tension. It is about how the government was overthrown and how the young population began mobilizing their force. It was carried away by other interests, creating a kind of popular imagination of revolution. But in reality, multiple bigger powers were trying to secure their interests in a country that is geopolitically strategic—physically between China and India, at the center of the Himalaya, and at the heart of what some call a Second Cold War, especially between China and the West. India’s relationship with the West is not in the best shape at the moment. Nepal sits right where these possibilities converge, and many people anticipated this.

The third point concerns India specifically, which was not happy with the government in Nepal. This discontent started with the promulgation of the constitution 10 years ago. India never wanted Nepal to have that constitution, but the issue escalated when the constitution included part of historical Nepal now controlled by India. Including this in the constitution angered India further.

The fourth point is social media, amplified by intellectual and journalistic voices, which propagated negative perceptions of the governing system. They presented things as not working, and this negativity grew steadily. It spread among the general public, particularly through youth on social media, fostering the belief that nothing works in Nepal and that something else must come—even though that “something else” was never really thought through.

Finally, development programs, NGOs, and modern aspirations led the public to believe they deserved development in a new way. But this remains controlled by an extremely dependent economic system. A very few elites—primarily Indian, some Chinese, and others—control it. The Nepali market is essentially the Indian market. The production system is crumbling, and deindustrialization has been ongoing for many years. This has produced a particular corporate culture that dominates politics, media, intellectual life, and more. It is a system that fostered extraordinary dependence, out-migration, exploitation, and inequality, particularly between rural and urban areas. All of that came together in a moment when people just burst into action.

But the impact resulted not only from the protests. Other interests also infiltrated and pushed the movement further. That’s the current situation. Basically, it reflects the failure of the political regime to institutionalize its agenda, but it has also been pushed by geopolitical forces seeking to destabilize Nepal and secure a stronger footing in the country.

Nepal’s Youth Caught in a Triple Disjuncture

Nepal’s youth today confront what might be called a triple disjuncture: mass migration, precarious labor markets, and the expansion of the digital public sphere. How do these dynamics intersect to produce a new political subjectivity that resists both elite capture and authoritarian closure? In particular, how have structural forces such as economic inequality, chronic youth unemployment, and the dependence on migration shaped the political consciousness and mobilizing capacity of Gen Z in Nepal?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: Very good question, and this is exactly that conjuncture of multiple forces you mentioned that resulted in a particular type of economic precarity. Especially young people’s aspiration was to become economically successful, but the opportunities to do so were really decimated. But you cannot just blame the current political structure. You have to go back almost 30 years to understand what produced this. As soon as Nepal entered multi-party democracy in 1990, the government was forced to adopt an open market economy in such a way that the industrial sector basically collapsed in front of Indian and Chinese industrial and corporate power. That led to massive closures of national industries. The frustration from that also fueled the Maoist Revolution, which started in 1996. The Maoist movement, lasting for 10 years, led to massive out-migration from rural areas, while the open market economy that destroyed the national economy pushed people to migrate abroad.

So, Nepal lost two things: national productive capacity—the industrial base—and the labor force. That severely degraded national production. Over the last two and a half decades, this has produced massive unemployment, while national and international forces facilitated a process by which young people migrated to other countries. In effect, they wanted to solve the Maoist problem by exporting young people, so that they would not join the revolution. But then it became systematic: rural populations moved to urban areas, and from urban areas to other countries, primarily Gulf and Middle Eastern states, numbering in the millions.
Nepal thus lost not only industrial capacity—in terms of organizing, owning, and mobilizing capital—but also massive labor power, which created a lack of farming in rural areas. In some places, more than 70% of land is uncultivated, which used to be farmed in the past, because there is no labor.

This kind of economic situation continues to create chronic problems for generating opportunities in the country. All of this has reinforced political patronage and historical feudalistic conditions within the party system. That, in turn, made young people extraordinarily frustrated. They were frustrated by the economic situation, frustrated by dependency, and frustrated because they could not realize their dream of being modern and advanced. At the same time, the political structure adopted a feudalistic culture in which young people could not find their space. All this is leading to deep frustration, and the danger is that it will create further problems, because there are no coherent responses. Sometimes I feel it could evolve into a kind of gang politics. I am worried, even though it has not yet reached that point. But if this kind of mob-based, violent politics continues, there is real danger. Yet it seems inevitable, because the political structure has not been able to manage, understand, and maintain its hegemonic order. In other words, this is a failure of elite hegemony.

Even though the elites created these conditions, they have also been unable to preserve the very hegemonic structure that favors them. As a result, ruptures have emerged. I would not call this a youth revolution—it is not. Rather, it forms part of a longer trajectory of revolutions. Every decade Nepal has seen movements—the democratic movement, the Maoist movement—and young people have always been at the center. But those earlier uprisings were politically led, whereas this one is somewhat different. Still, I would not call it a revolution, because it will not fundamentally alter the political structure that produced these conditions. Sometimes I describe it instead as a kind of development: a double situation in which the political structure generates upheaval, but the outcome also reinforces the same structure. It will not truly transform the system. That leaves youth aspirations blocked from finding another path. Judging from how events have unfolded so far, it will not reach a transformative point.

The Social Media Ban Was a Trigger, Not the Cause

Social Media

The ban on social media is often cited as the immediate spark of revolt—yet should this be understood as a mere tactical blunder by Oli’s government, or rather as symptomatic of a deeper authoritarian reflex embedded within Nepal’s ruling elite?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: The social media ban… you have to look at it from two perspectives. One is the aspiration of young people and how embedded they are in the social media structure. But at the same time, you have to look at it from the perspective of a smaller country. These social media and multinational companies do not want to recognize, for example, Nepali sovereignty. They do not want to register; they do not want to pay taxes. Even social media companies—Twitter, Yik Yak—officially said that Nepal is a corrupt country, so they cannot register or be taxed. That undermines national pride, nationalism, and everything. We need to understand the positionality of a smaller country. So, people think they must register. Why not? If they registered in India, then they should register in Nepal; it’s the same—a similar sovereignty situation. That’s one aspect of it.

But at that moment, the youth protest against corruption and the demand for good governance was already planned, and social media was used to organize those movements. So yes, it fueled the process, but it was not really the cause. The social media ban did not trigger it. Similar bans had happened in the past as well. They banned TikTok, and TikTok came back, registered, and now pays taxes to the country. But these other companies do not want to do that. Still, there is a Nepali psyche and intellectual understanding that Nepal’s sovereign rights must be respected. Young people support that too, actually. But deeply embedded, long-simmering social frustration, lack of employment, lack of good governance, and systematic corruption—it’s not just the political class, they are part of it. It’s the totality of the system that mobilizes all kinds of power nexuses in building corruption. That is what led to this frustration, and that was the culminating point, rather than it really being about authoritarianism tied to the social media ban.

People haven’t really looked at this. They use the word authoritarianism because they want to make a political point, but in fact, Nepal had been trying to get these companies to register for many years, and that process started long ago. Legislation was passed with 100% support in parliament one year ago, and the government called on these companies regularly to respect the law and comply. I don’t think it was an authoritarian attitude that led to the social media ban. Rather, the ban triggered other frustrations—that’s how I would put it.

Nepo-Babies Symbolize a Feudal Political Structure Still Dominant in Nepal

The viral outrage against “nepo-babies” seems to reveal a moral economy of resentment against elite entitlement. To what extent did the digital spectacle of political heirs flaunting luxury lifestyles crystallize diffuse frustrations into a new form of class politics—one mediated by resentment, spectacle, and digital culture, and distinct from the agrarian or proletarian struggles of earlier eras?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: Right. This is a very fundamental part of it. The corrupt kind of system, this nepo-babies idea, is a good instrument to utilize—not only against politicians, but also other kinds of forma and everything. It really helps people understand how the feudal family structure mobilizes the political structure for its benefit. So, it’s real.

But at the same time, it is not really pervasive. Not every politician managed to make their kids that way. And the corruption in Nepal is actually maintained and regulated by a particular type of corporative capitalist—middlemen business structures that mobilize and consolidate power, creating nexuses. These nepo-babies are part of that; they are enrolled into those nexuses and act as mediators in negotiations through karopsana (patronage brokerage / political fixing in Nepalese) and everything.

So, in that sense, it’s a particular agenda in creating a certain kind of populism. “Nepo-babies” is a very easily sellable term. But there is also a reality: it symbolizes that the feudal political structure is still dominant in the country, and that really helps people to grasp it. However, there is a danger in this kind of new generation movement, because it is framed in generational rather than other forms of inequality. Class, gender, caste, and socialist structures are deeply embedded in South Asia and in Nepal. So, this generational framing risks undermining those other dimensions of inequality. That danger is emerging.

There are generational inequalities, yes, but the young generation in Nepal is often better off than the older generation, especially in rural areas. The subsistence farmers live very hard lives and are the ones doing the lowest-level jobs. By contrast, the young generation leading this movement lives better lives than many others. They are urban, educated, and from well-off families. They are not the everyday working people—those are the millions working abroad in the Middle East in factories.

My worry is that the inequality perpetuated in Nepal through pluralistic land structures and a pluralistic political and economic system requires deep class-based analysis, and this generational lens may obscure that. At the same time, there is an oligarchic attitude toward politics: “Okay, this is for me, next is my wife, then that.” This attitude is dominant. It’s not only in Nepal—it’s big in India, Bangladesh, and many other countries. The symptoms were already present in Nepal, too. This revolt has hit hard against that pattern and may disrupt it temporarily. But it will likely reconfigure within the elite structure, and regardless of which elites dominate, the elite-based political structure will continue unless there is massive restructuring of the economic system that maintains this power balance.

Without a national production system and without mobilizing substantial yields toward the national economy, this is not going to change. In Nepali, they call it Bicholia—basically brokers. It is a broker’s-rule political system. These brokers—traders, contractors, suppliers—are the ones who mobilize everything. Unless those structures are directly addressed and transformed, it will be difficult to imagine a different political and economic system emerging in Nepal or the region.

This also requires understanding at the regional level. It is not only Nepal—it is part of an open economic structure. The majority of traders are from India or other countries, with only local agents in Nepal, who manage the political structure from behind the curtain. One therefore needs to understand the local political dynamics and economic structures, but also their relation to regional systems. In that sense, I consider this a necessary, even natural, kind of revolt. But the optimism that it will lead to deeper restructuring of the country is, I think, very minimal.

Corruption in Nepal Is the Governing Logic of Elite Power

The municipality office in Inaruwa, Sunsari, lies heavily damaged after protesters targeted it during the nationwide demonstrations against corruption and the social media shutdown on September 9, 2025. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula

Corruption in Nepal is often framed as administrative weakness, but your work emphasizes its structural role in reproducing elite hegemony. How should we theorize corruption—not as deviation but as a governing logic—in post-monarchical Nepal? Do you see corruption in Nepal primarily as a symptom of weak institutions, or as an intentional system of elite reproduction and authoritarian consolidation?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: This is a great question. Corruption is deeply embedded, and I would say it mobilizes both kinds of structures. It reproduces elite dominance, and it’s one way of maintaining elite hegemony in the political-economic system. But it is also systematically introduced at every level of society and governance in such a way that it became a ladder for making political-economic progress, from the local to the national elites.

To understand corruption, we must also look at the massive development projects implemented over decades. Nepal was one of the priority countries for international—especially Western—actors to carry out such programs, along with international investments through banks, the World Bank, and others. Instead of focusing on national priorities, these actors pursued their petty geopolitical or other interests. They mobilized elites to implement their programs and, at every scale—from small to large—channeled resources so that they would have better access to contractors. They could harvest trees, collect sand, build roads, construct buildings, or procure everyday goods. In return, they would always provide some kind of commission—“okay, you do this, then I’ll offer you this.” These practices, sustained over decades, systematically developed an internal, informal institutional system that entrenched corruption in the country.

There are also checks and balances, of course. The public watched and pushed back—it was always there. But at the same time, even at the small municipal level, people, even minor officers, would not act without taking bribes. Over decades, corruption became normalized, and it took a long time for everyone to grasp the root causes. For me, corruption is a symptom of how the pluralistic political structure maintains itself, but it is also the result of the particular form of economic system introduced over the last 30 years—one that required sustaining political power structures through bribes and political payoffs. This allowed the larger corporate world to control the economic system and labor production, supplying laborers cheaply to other countries while selling whatever they wanted by shutting down Nepal’s national production system. Industries collapsed—they could not compete with others, or they were simply bought out.

So, corruption is not something that any politician can fix in Nepal. It requires a systematic overhaul—a restructuring at every level with the introduction of a national production system. Otherwise, it will remain deeply embedded in how the state functions every day, at every level. At the same time, there is widespread understanding among the public that corruption is a big problem and must be eliminated. Any slogan with an anti-corruption agenda will therefore gain strong political support from the public. But those who bring such agendas are themselves part of the same political structure; they are not separate from the economic and political system. For this reason, I do not see corruption disappearing soon, unless Nepal achieves economic independence and builds a self-reliant economic structure—which has now been overtaken by the corporate world and is no longer under Nepal’s control.

Populist Agendas in Nepal Will Not Dismantle the Elite Structure

In your work on ethnic identity politics, you demonstrate how elites instrumentalize social divisions to consolidate authority. Do you see a similar risk with today’s anti-nepotism and anti-corruption discourses—that they could be co-opted by authoritarian populists who reframe them as projects of “purification,” while ultimately reproducing exclusionary politics and elite dominance?

Professor Dinesh Paudel:  The answer is yes. The danger of populism is that populist agendas have always been propagated to maintain the elite structure. For me, I would consider this almost as a fight between elites. There is no rural poor people’s mobilization, and real thinking toward an egalitarian political structure is not there. So, populism in South Asia—like Hindu nationalism in India, the recent uprising in Bangladesh, similar things in Myanmar, with some exceptions in Sri Lanka, and now in many other places—has taken a very different route. There are some people-centric agendas, but most of the time in the South Asian context, it looks cultural or political, but it ultimately serves elite interests.

In Nepal, too, the populist mobilization around anti-corruption, youth inclusion, and similar issues is important, as in India. But it will not dismantle the elite structure that has dominated for a long period of time. So, my fear is that there was huge damage under this mobilization this time. Nepal lost billions of dollars and many people. It’s a huge damage. But what will it result in? It will not move outside the elitist structure already in place in Nepal.

Nepal Faces More Instability

The unprecedented state violence of September 2025 raises questions about authoritarian consolidation. Should we interpret the crackdown as a desperate last stand of a collapsing elite order, or as evidence of a longer trajectory in which coercion is becoming normalized within Nepal’s democratic institutions?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: I would say it’s a degradation of the elite structure, in one sense, which has created these ruptures—and the ruptures are already there. It’s a continuous process along this path, which is an interesting thing. Politics is propagated under these ruptures. But it will also create space for another similar elite-based structure. That’s my fear, and I already see it happening.

So yes, it is a pillar within the elite structure that was maintained through a particular type of political party system. But these political party systems also became vulnerable to external pressure and influence. They were always managed by external forces.

Truly national interest and genuine national decision-making haven’t happened on either side—the rebuilding side or the elite side. Therefore, once mobilized, the elite structure continues to be reproduced. I do not imagine that the elitist structure will go away—that is not a possibility. But the current conjuncture of political elites, especially an older generation of political leaders, is now losing ground and space quite drastically. The danger, however, is that those spaces will be filled in ways that probably create even more instability in the country.

My sense is that Nepal will go through more political instability, and that will harm the region more broadly. That harm may in fact serve the interests of some geopolitical forces, because if the political structure is unstable, they can more easily insert their interests. That is the fate of smaller countries in the Global South in particular.

Without Economic Reform, Nepal Risks Mass Youth Exodus

A Nepali farmer at work in a rural field during the monsoon season. As the rains arrive, farmers across Nepal become busy in their fields, though most still rely on traditional farming techniques. Photo: Shishir Gautam.

Your ethnographic work on the Maoist revolution highlights how rural communities once generated alternative political imaginaries. To what extent do you see continuities—or disjunctures—between those insurgent subjectivities and the digitally mediated agency of Gen Z?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: That’s a very good one. There are some continuities in the sense that Nepali people have always sought alternative imaginaries, but there is also a complete disjuncture between the current generation and the past. The current generation does not really know the rural dynamics. They do not understand the moral economic system. They have no clue about present politics.

So the ideas of alternative imagination are almost opposite. Rural imaginaries were more sober, rooted in production and autonomy, while today’s are more connected to modern lifestyles and jobs, moving away from the traditional economic system. Both are alternative imaginations, but what they are looking for is different.

If they could find some kind of synergy, it could lead to real change in the country. But that synergy requires political negotiation and organizing—and that is not going to happen. Primarily, rural areas are heavily influenced by the traditional structures of political parties, while the urban youth are deeply alienated from them. So, the negotiation between the two will likely not happen anytime soon.

That unnegotiated gray space is where all kinds of interests will grow—and that is the danger for Nepali youth, their aspirations, and their inspiration. I would not be surprised if, in the next few years, out-migration of young people from the country increases massively. Without correcting the economic structure, there will not be more jobs. There will not be much of anything. Simply changing the government will not do it, because deeper structural changes are required.

But young people now have big hopes, and those hopes may soon turn to frustration. Either they will leave the country, or Nepal will face further instability and imbalance. So, the future scenario for the next few years looks extraordinarily volatile.

From Red Revolution to Red Neoliberalism

Given the Maoists’ descent into corruption and clientelism, can their revolutionary legacy still serve as a democratic resource for the present, or has it become a cautionary tale of how emancipatory struggles are absorbed into elite circulation?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: This is a wonderful question, because the kind of feudalism and elite-controlled politics was propagated by the Maoists themselves. They became the victims of elitism within their own movement. Yes, they challenged the political conjuncture and elitism of that time, but only to reintroduce their own. So, I would not consider that the old Maoists, in the structures they proposed, were ever going to be non-elitist or truly helpful.

The frustration that young people are expressing today also comes directly from the Maoists. When they entered peaceful politics and the new constitution was introduced, the Maoists became the only party in the country that was always in government—sometimes in coalition with one party, sometimes with another—but their performance was the most miserable.

It is very important to note that while the Maoists had an interesting political vision for the country, they had no vision for the economy. They became victims of the open economic structure, which I call red neoliberalism. They adopted neoliberal policies in such a way that they dismantled national production capacity, especially in industry, and alienated young people. They could not really understand this dynamic, became part of it, and therefore contributed directly to the dissatisfaction we see today.

Young people today have learned some lessons from that history, but they see no real connection to the Maoists’ promises, because they view the Maoists themselves as the problem. The Maoists destabilized rural areas, triggered mass out-migration, and destroyed national productive capacity. So, today’s youth frustration is deeply tied to what the Maoists promised versus what they delivered. And what they delivered was further dependency, out-migration, bad governance, and overall decline.

Crude Nationalism Cannot Satisfy Young People’s Aspirations

Thousands joined a joint morning procession organized by the CPN-UML and Nepali Congress district committees in Inaruwa Bazaar on September 19, 2025, to mark Constitution Day. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula.

Finally, do you see in Nepal’s youth movement the embryonic forms of what might be called a post-elitist or post-authoritarian democracy—an order rooted not in patronage or coercion but in new modes of participatory and inclusive politics?

Professor Dinesh Paudel: I do not see that happening right away. But this has raised a lot of questions for the population, the political elites themselves, and others. The country will suffer more through various challenges, but this is the beginning of a different kind of political imagination that is emerging. Probably it will not find success quickly.

This particular episode may do more harm than good. Looking at the last couple of weeks, I can see it in the way they are now appointing ministers, the way they are appointing political elites back into power, and the way they use military force to enforce their agenda—all of which reflect an extraordinarily feudalistic structure in the country.

Given this, the current moment will not do much to change elite hegemony in Nepal. But no matter what happens, young people’s frustration is directed against elitism. What they are seeking in the future is post-elite—some kind of egalitarian economic and political system. That aspiration is a positive sign toward new possibilities. But this episode alone will not do much other than reintroduce the same elitist structure.

Primarily, young people are not questioning the economic structure. They are not really grasping how the dependent economic system in the country continues to produce an elite-controlled political system. This is similar to Bangladesh, where a major revolt not long ago did little to address the country’s economic situation. A similar pattern is emerging in India, too. Youth-led frustration will continue across South Asia—it will not stop in Nepal. I see big brewing parties emerging in India, which is a major hot spot. I am not sure when it will erupt or in what form, but for decades—almost 70, 80, 100 years—the economic feudalistic structure has not been resolved. I see something coming.

Even though India uses neighboring political instability to its advantage, crude nationalism alone will not satisfy the aspirations of young people, especially amid growing economic inequality. Regional change will happen only if something major occurs in other countries, especially in India and beyond. Still, this is a good symptom: unless elites create space for young people—and some form of inclusive system, even if not fully post-elite—these tensions will persist, not only in Nepal but across the region, for decades to come.

The Zhihu logo displayed on a smartphone screen. Photo: Rafael Henrique.

Diversity, Rationality, and the Diffusion of Online Populism: A Study of Chinese Social Media Discussions

Please cite as:

Su, Yu & Li, Tongtong. (2025). “Diversity, Rationality, and the Diffusion of Online Populism: A Study of Chinese Social Media Discussions.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). September 21, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000117

 

Abstract

This study asks whether two core dimensions of deliberative quality—viewpoint diversity and rationality—shape the diffusion of online populism on Zhihu, a major Chinese Q&A platform. Using Transformer-based language models and LLMs to operationalize diversity and rationality across threads on ten salient populist issues, and estimating multilevel negative binomial models, we find: (a) diversity is positively associated with diffusion (comments/likes), and (b) rationality is negatively associated with diffusion; moreover, issue-level random effects are substantial, indicating topic-specific virality. We theorize that rationality may dampen the diffusion, and—based on prior literature—this is plausibly because it reduces emotional arousal, increases cognitive load, interrupts outrage cycles, and weakens bandwagon cues typically rewarded by algorithms and users. Theoretically, the paper bridges deliberative democracy and populism by showing that diversity can be a double-edged amplifier in populist contexts, while rationality functions as a diffusion brake; it also recenters analysis on a non-Western, platform-level setting. Practically, the findings caution against diversity-only interventions, support community and design measures that elevate reason-giving (e.g., sourcing, evidence prompts) while accounting for issue-specific virality when governing online populism in China’s digital public sphere.

Keywords: online populism, deliberation, rationality, diversity, social media

 

By Yu Su & Tongtong Li

Introduction

In the digital public sphere, diversity of viewpoints and rationality of discussion are widely recognized as two core features of public deliberation, serving as important mechanisms for promoting healthy democratic discourse (Dryzek, 2000; Habermas, 1996). Diversity emphasizes the inclusion of different opinions and perspectives in the deliberative process, helping to break information echo chambers and reduce the emergence of extreme positions (Mutz, 2006); rationality advocates for providing reasons, evidence, and logical arguments to support one’s viewpoints, thereby facilitating information sharing and cognitive updating in discussions (Stromer-Galley, 2007).

However, today’s online space has witnessed the rapid rise of populism. In China in particular, although the meritocratic political system has to some extent constrained the emergence of populist politicians and effectively precluded top-down populist mobilization, a form of bottom-up populist expression continues to proliferate on the internet (Ma, 2015). Chinese online populism is characterized by grassroots political narratives, with ordinary netizens leveraging anonymity to launch collective criticism against elite misconduct and perceived threats from “the other” (He et al., 2021; Miao et al., 2020). Here, “the elite” refer to those who ostensibly speak on behalf of the people but fail to genuinely represent their interests, having lost the sense of “paternalistic responsibility” (Miao et al., 2020). “the other” are those perceived as threatening societal or collective interests, such as Western countries or “white left” ideologies (Zhang, 2020; Zhang, 2022), reflecting Chinese netizens’ strong exclusionary attitudes and the defense of mainstream values. Thus, anti-elitism and nationalism together form the fundamental tone of Chinese online populism.

The extremely low threshold for participation on Chinese social media has led to the emergence and fermentation of numerous hotly debated topics that are permeated with the aforementioned populist tendencies. For instance, the “Driving a Mercedes into the Forbidden City”incident triggered intense public anger toward elite privilege and wealth (He et al., 2025b); similarly, discussions surrounding the “996” work schedule are filled with resistance to excessive overtime and calls for the protection of workers’ rights. There is also the case of the public outcry over foreign brands ceasing to use Xinjiang cotton in their products2 (Tao et al., 2025). However, current communication studies on such populist issues mostly focus on the discursive construction and logic of populist discourse within individual topics (He et al., 2025a; He et al., 2025b; Tao et al., 2025; Zhang & Schroeder, 2024), while there remains a lack of attention to how these populist discourses actually diffuse in the online sphere.

Whether diversity and rationality—two essential elements of deliberation—can curb the diffusion of populist discourse is the central question of this study. When diversity is present, the discussion space accommodates heterogeneous voices, thereby depriving populist discourse—which heavily relies on singular positions and adversarial constructions—of fertile ground for spreading (Sunstein, 2001; Cinelli et al., 2021). Likewise, when discussions are grounded in rationality, participants are more likely to engage with issues prudently and are less susceptible to emotional mobilization, thus hindering the proliferation of populist discourse (Rauchfleisch & Kaiser, 2021).

To examine this relationship, this study integrates computational analysis with traditional statistical testing. First, ten highly influential populist topics from Chinese social media were selected, and all related discussion threads from Zhihu—a major Chinese Q&A platform—were systematically collected as the research corpus. Next, a pre-trained large language model was employed to measure the two key predictor variables: diversity and rationality within the discussions. The number of comments and likes received by each thread were used as quantitative indicators of the extent of “diffusion.” Finally, regression analysis was conducted to explore the relationships among diversity, rationality, and the diffusion of populist discussions, thereby addressing the central research question.

This study makes two primary contributions: first, it deepens the understanding of the applicability and limitations of deliberative democratic theory in the context of non-Western digital platforms, expanding the conceptualization of diversity and rationality; second, it provides a theoretical basis for understanding the diffusion mechanisms of online populist discussions and offers insights for platform governance in China.

Read Full Article Here

Dr. André Borges is an Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Brasília.

Dr. Borges: Brazil Is Becoming More Like American Politics, Where Polarization Normalizes Rule-Breaking

Brazil’s democracy faces one of its greatest stress tests with former President Jair Bolsonaro sentenced to 27 years for plotting a coup. In an interview with the ECPS, Dr. André Borges, Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Brasília, warns that Brazil is “becoming more like American politics, where affective polarization drives citizens to see opponents as existential threats.” Such polarization, he argues, risks normalizing democratic rule-breaking. Yet Dr. Borges also highlights Brazil’s resilience, rooted in its “institutional mix that deconcentrates authority”—federalism, separation of powers, fragmented parties, and an autonomous Supreme Court. This paradox defines Brazil today: resilient institutions confronting dangerously eroding democratic norms.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The conviction of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro to 27 years in prison for plotting a coup has plunged Brazil into one of the most turbulent chapters of its democratic history. While Bolsonaro’s allies denounce the ruling as political persecution, and international far-right figures echo claims of “lawfare,” Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (STF) has defended the trial as a necessary step to safeguard democracy.

Against this backdrop, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) spoke with Dr. André Borges, Associate Professor of Political Science at the University of Brasília, whose research focuses on party systems, coalition formation, and right-wing populism. Dr. Borges warns that Brazil is “becoming more like American politics, where affective polarization drives citizens to see opponents as existential threats.” In his view, such dynamics risk normalizing democratic rule-breaking, as voters increasingly rationalize the repression of political adversaries in the name of survival.

At the same time, Dr. Borges stresses that Brazil retains significant institutional defenses against authoritarian capture. “In comparative terms, if I look at other Latin American countries, I would say that Brazilian institutions are, in a sense, more resilient to this kind of attack. The reason for this has to do with several factors, one of which is that Brazil has an institutional mix that deconcentrates authority. It has a federal system, a presidential constitution with separation of powers, and a very fragmented party system. On top of that, there is a relatively autonomous Supreme Court.”

This “institutional mix,” he argues, explains why Bolsonaro could not consolidate authoritarian rule in the style of leaders such as Nayib Bukele in El Salvador or Viktor Orbán in Hungary. Since 1989, no Brazilian president has commanded a legislative majority, forcing presidents—including Bolsonaro—to rely on fragile coalitions with clientelistic parties that are reluctant to rewrite rules that benefit them. “Doing so would simply empower Bolsonaro and his family to the detriment of traditional politicians—and that is not something they would like to see happening,” Dr. Borges notes.

By situating Bolsonaro’s downfall in the tension between institutional resilience and intensifying polarization, Dr. Borges highlights a central paradox: while Brazil’s democracy has thus far resisted authoritarian capture, the country’s deepening affective divides may yet erode the very democratic norms its institutions have preserved.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. André Borges, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

The Supreme Court Stepped In Where Congress Was Lenient

Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (Supremo Tribunal Federal – STF) at night, Brasília, Federal District, Brazil, August 26, 2018. Photo: Diego Grandi.

Professor Borges, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Jair Bolsonaro’s conviction for plotting a military coup marks an unprecedented moment in Brazilian democracy, with the Supreme Court framing his conspiracy as an attempt to “annihilate” the democratic rule of law. How do you see this outcome reshaping the balance of power between elected executives and judicial institutions, and how does it fit within your account of Brazil’s long-run party-system de-institutionalization, where shifting alliances eroded voters’ ability to distinguish governing alternatives and opened space for an authoritarian outsider?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: That’s a great question. In my view, the Bolsonaro administration was unmistakably illiberal. It deliberately sought to weaken checks and balances, empower the military, and expand the role of the armed forces in national politics. This was evident throughout Bolsonaro’s years in power, as his government aimed to restore to the military some of the authority it had previously lost. For example, the military significantly increased its control over national security institutions.

Because of the Bolsonaro administration’s attacks on democracy, the Supreme Court became more activist. I believe its heightened role in recent years is also a consequence of Congress’s leniency toward Bolsonaro’s anti-democratic agenda. This is crucial to note: on several occasions, Supreme Court could have acted to obstruct this illiberal project. For example, during the pandemic, evidence emerged that top government officials were involved in corruption scandals tied to vaccine purchases. Yet, dominated by center-right, right-wing, and far-right parties, Congress largely sided with Bolsonaro—leaving the Supreme Court to step in.

With regard to party institutionalization, Bolsonaro’s rise to power is closely tied to the weakening of mainstream center-right forces, particularly the Brazilian Social Democratic Party (PSDB). Initially a centrist—indeed, at times even center-left—party, the PSDB gradually shifted rightward. Prior to Bolsonaro, it was the principal center-right alternative. Yet over time the PSDB experienced a profound collapse: its electoral base eroded, key leaders departed, and internal fractures deepened. Bolsonaro capitalized on this weakening of the mainstream right.

This is not unique to Brazil. In other countries in the region, such as Chile, we see a similar dynamic: major rival parties like the UDI and National Renovation have lost ground to the far right. More broadly, across Latin America, the mainstream right is losing parts of its conservative electorate. There are many reasons for this, but once conservative sectors no longer feel represented by traditional right-wing parties, it opens opportunities for anti-system, far-right alternatives. This trend is reinforced by a broader climate of distrust in political parties. People feel unrepresented and believe that all parties and politicians are corrupt. That sense of disillusionment creates the conditions in which far-right populist voices can gain ground.

Brazil’s Institutional Mix Makes Democratic Backsliding Harder

In your research on party system erosion and right-wing populism, you highlight the fragility of institutional constraints under populist rule. Does Bolsonaro’s sentencing suggest that Brazil’s institutions have developed greater resilience compared to other cases you have studied, or might this verdict deepen polarization and fuel narratives of political persecution?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: That’s a great question as well. My take on this is the following. In comparative terms, if I look at other Latin American countries, I would say that Brazilian institutions are, in a sense, more resilient to this kind of attack. The reason for this has to do with several factors, one of which is that Brazil has an institutional mix that deconcentrates authority. It has a federal system, a presidential constitution with separation of powers, and a very fragmented party system. On top of that, there is a relatively autonomous Supreme Court.

In this scenario, it is harder for a far-right populist like Bolsonaro to implement a democratic backsliding project. In this respect, Brazil is different from El Salvador. If you look at what is going on there with Nayib Bukele, it is very clear that El Salvador is no longer a functional democracy: checks and balances have been eroded, the Supreme Court was packed with political allies, and the legislature no longer acts as a check on presidential power. But it would be very difficult to reproduce that in Brazil.

One reason is that illiberal backsliding is more likely when executives can rely on supermajorities—when the president’s party holds a very large majority in the legislature. This is very unlikely in Brazil. Since 1989, none of the presidents elected has had a majority; in reality, all have been minority presidents. Bolsonaro, when elected in 2018, had a party with only 10% of the seats. This makes Brazil very different from cases like Hungary, where Fidesz under Viktor Orbán held a supermajority, making it much easier to implement constitutional changes.

In Brazil, a far-right populist who comes into power is forced to forge a coalition with right-wing parties. Many of these parties are essentially office-seeking, clientelistic organizations rather than programmatic ones. It seems to me that the traditional politicians within these parties are not willing to change the rules of the game, for a very simple reason: the rules of the game benefit them. If you look at Brazil’s recent history, the political right has always held a plurality of the vote in legislative elections for the lower chamber. Considering that the right consistently wins, why would they change the rules of the game? It does not make sense. In the end, doing so would simply empower Bolsonaro and his family to the detriment of traditional politicians—and that is not something they would like to see happening in the coming years. So in this sense, yes, Brazilian institutions are probably more resilient compared to other cases.

Portraying Trials as Persecution Is a Familiar Populist Script

Brick Lane, one of the UK’s most famous locations for street art and graffiti, is synonymous with London’s vibrant urban art scene. Photo: Nicoleta Raluca Tudor.

Bolsonaro and his allies have framed the trial as political revenge, echoing claims of ‘lawfare’ often made by populist leaders across Latin America. To what extent does the framing of accountability as persecution resonate with broader patterns you have identified in multiparty presidential systems?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: There is nothing new in this kind of narrative. It has been used by different types of populists from both sides of the ideological spectrum. This is the usual script when they face trial: they portray it as political persecution. In the case of Bolsonaro in Brazil, this framing seems likely to resonate mainly with his hardcore supporters. Depending on how you measure it, the so-called Bolsonaristas—Bolsonaro’s followers—represent between 20–25% of voters. That is significant, but it is not enough to win a presidential election, because in Brazil you have runoff rules, and you can only win with 50% plus one of the valid votes. So that base is insufficient.

If Bolsonaro—or another far-right candidate—plans to take over national government, he will need to build an electoral coalition that goes beyond far-right voters. In this sense, I do not think this narrative will help Bolsonaro much, especially given that rejection of him and his family has grown among the electorate. The latest polls show that about 64% of Brazilian voters would never vote for Bolsonaro. When other names are considered, such as his wife, Michele Bolsonaro, or his son, rejection rates are even higher. This makes me think that this narrative will not be enough to gain support beyond the far-right, more extremist space.

Bolsonaro Reinforced a Preexisting Trend of Militarization in Brazilian Politics

The trial revealed detailed evidence of conspiracy, including potential plans to assassinate political rivals. From your perspective, does this reinforce arguments about the militarization of Brazilian politics—an area you have explored in your work on authoritarian inheritance—or does it reflect a unique rupture under Bolsonaro’s leadership?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: On this question, I must say first that I am not a specialist in military politics, but with that being said, I do think there has been a process of militarization in Brazil, in the sense that civilian control over the military has always been weak. Brazil has not been as successful as other Latin American countries, for instance, in convicting military officers involved in human rights crimes during the dictatorship. In this regard, Brazil differs from Argentina or Uruguay, where there were truth commissions, trials, and many convictions of former officials.

Even before Bolsonaro’s administration, we had already seen an increasing presence of top military officers in civilian posts, especially in the area of public security. This reflects the fact that crime is a major concern among Brazil’s population, as in many other Latin American countries. As a result, there has been a gradual militarization of public security. Brazil’s constitution allows for military intervention in public security under certain circumstances, and one such intervention occurred during the Temer government, which was an interim government just before Bolsonaro, from 2016 to 2018. That intervention took place in Rio de Janeiro, the country’s third-largest state and one with particularly high levels of crime.

It is notable that the general who commanded this intervention, Braga Netto, was later nominated as Bolsonaro’s vice-presidential candidate in the last election. For this reason, I would say that the Bolsonaro government reinforced and accelerated a preexisting trend of greater military involvement in national political affairs. One clear piece of evidence is that no other government since the transition to democracy appointed as many military ministers as Bolsonaro did. He built a cabinet with a very high proportion of military officers—something highly unusual for a consolidated democracy. While this might be politics as usual in a country like Pakistan, it is striking in a country that is classified as a democracy.

There has also been concern about the politicization of the armed forces. This is the main concern, because since the end of the military dictatorship there has been a strong effort by the armed forces toward professionalization, ensuring that the army, navy, and marines would not become involved in politics. That is not the role of the military; they should remain separate from politics. The Bolsonaro government, however, represented a kind of return to the past, as we saw some active generals appointed to political office. This also triggered debate in Congress, because the Brazilian constitution and legislation on military affairs are very clear: if you are part of the military and want to run for political office, or if you wish to be appointed to a ministry or a secretary position at the state level, you must first retire. You cannot serve while remaining active military. Congress even approved a law on this issue to reinforce that rule and prevent such situations.

But yes, the concern is not only the politicization of the armed forces but also the politicization of the police. In Brazil, unlike in many other countries, we have two police branches: the military police, which has a more repressive function, and the civil police, which is responsible for investigating crimes. The military police has close ties to the armed forces, and existing research, as well as events during the Bolsonaro government, show that many police officers are in fact Bolsonaro supporters. Support for Bolsonaro is particularly strong among the lower ranks of the police forces. 

This is troubling, because these officers are ultimately responsible for maintaining law and order during protests—for instance, when far-right supporters take to the streets. We saw what happened in January 2023, when a mob of Bolsonaro supporters invaded Congress and the Supreme Court. It was so easy for them because the police of the Federal District—which, while technically a city, has the status of a state and is home to Brazil’s capital—was responsible for overseeing the demonstration and preventing violence. Yet they were lenient; they essentially allowed the protesters to invade public buildings. As a result, it took considerable time before the situation was brought under control.

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

Bolsonarismo Could Survive Through Party Deals

Given your work on electoral coalitions and incentives in presidential systems, what implications might Bolsonaro’s conviction have for the future strategies of Brazil’s right-wing parties and actors? Could sidelining Bolsonaro encourage institutionalized conservative alternatives, or will his movement continue to dominate the right despite his imprisonment?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: That’s an excellent question, and one I have asked myself in recent years. I don’t think I have a definitive answer. But what I can say is that Bolsonarismo, if we think of it as a far-right movement, is already rooted in society. Bolsonaro was able to mobilize an electoral base comprised of ultra-conservative voters who support him because they share the same agendas and policy preferences he expressed during his campaign. So, in a sense, the connection is not only based on charisma. In political science, we usually distinguish between two types of linkages between voters and leaders, or between voters and parties: charismatic linkages, which rest on exceptional qualities of the leader and emotional attachment, and programmatic linkages. In the case of Bolsonarismo, I think you have both. There is an emotional connection to Bolsonaro, but also a programmatic one.

This makes me think that even if Bolsonaro is imprisoned and forced to step away from national politics—because, if everything goes as planned, he will not be able to run for office again in his lifetime, having been sentenced to 27 years in prison plus another 8 years of ineligibility—Bolsonarismo will endure. Bolsonaro is now 70 years old, which means he would be over 100 before being eligible again. In this sense, other right-wing leaders could inherit his movement, since the electoral constituency of far-right, extremist voters will remain.

I see two possible scenarios. In one, the political right divides: a candidate from Bolsonaro’s family—his son or his wife—runs, while the rest of the right supports another candidate, most likely Tarcísio de Freitas. This would split the right into a Bolsonarista wing led by his family and a non-Bolsonarista wing. In this scenario, it will be harder to consolidate a strong right-wing party.

The reason is that Bolsonaro and his family have never been able to build a party of their own. Bolsonaro is currently in the PL (Liberal Party), which today represents the far right but was previously a typical office-seeking, clientelistic party. Crucially, the PL is not controlled by Bolsonaro, but by traditional mainstream politicians like Valdemar da Costa Neto. That is the core problem: to create a strong Bolsonarista party, you need an organizational structure, and building one takes time and resources. I doubt the Bolsonaro family has either the capacity or the will to do that. They would likely need to take over an existing party, but all the major right-wing parties are controlled by traditional politicians.

The only feasible path would be some kind of agreement between Bolsonaro’s family and the more radical factions of the PL, which is itself divided between legislators loyal to Bolsonaro and more independent figures. Such a power-sharing arrangement could keep Bolsonarismo politically alive. At this moment, though, I don’t see how that would be possible—but perhaps I am wrong.

Affective Polarization in Brazil Risks Eroding Democratic Norms

In your recent work on the illusion of electoral stability, you discuss how party system erosion paved the way for Bolsonaro. Does his conviction close that cycle, or could institutional breakdown re-emerge in new forms?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: It’s hard to know what is going to happen. For now, what I can say is that Brazil today is an increasingly polarized society. Brazilian politics is becoming more like American politics, in the sense that people’s political preferences are starting to interfere with their personal lives. This is very unusual for us Brazilians but has been happening in the United States for a long time. For example, you might see a situation in which someone who is a strong Democrat will not accept that his daughter marries a Republican. This is a clear case in which political preferences affect personal life—things that should normally be separate from politics.

The same pattern is now emerging in Brazil, where there is a lot of hatred and stereotyping on both sides. On one side, you have the petistas, supporters of the Workers’ Party, the largest left-wing party in Brazil, which governs the country today. On the other side, you have the Liberal Party and Bolsonaro supporters. The result is a deep clash between these two groups.

I think this is bad for democracy, because when you have this kind of affective polarization, it often leads to the politicization of democratic rules. This is very dangerous, because people start to calculate what is acceptable or not acceptable in day-to-day politics. When two groups hate each other and you have this us-versus-them logic, it becomes easier for voters to rationalize a situation in which, for instance, a president from my party takes action to repress supporters of the other party. Then I might say, “Well, the people on the other side are dangerous, they represent a threat, so why should we respect their political rights? Maybe it is justifiable to break the rules of democracy, because in the end, the other side is evil, and we should not respect their rights.”

I think we are reaching that point in Brazil, which in my view is dangerous. But as for knowing what will happen in the coming years—I don’t know. It wouldn’t be fair to say that I have the answer. 

Trump Treated Brazil as If It Were an Enemy State, Not an Ally

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

Trump’s use of tariffs and sanctions to pressure Brazil on Bolsonaro’s behalf highlights an unusual case of international populist solidarity. Does this signal a shift in how external pressures operate on Latin American democracies compared to past US interventions?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: My impression is that, yes, this represents a departure from US foreign policy in recent decades. It is very unusual for an American president to try to interfere with judicial decisions in another country. I can’t think of any other recent example of this. So, this is very serious. But surely, it has to do with Donald Trump and the more radical wing of the Republican Party. This is worrying.

If we think about what happened during the 2022 elections, support from the Biden government was very important to ensure that we did not have a coup attempt or some kind of mobilization to discredit electoral results. The Biden administration was very quick in recognizing Lula’s victory. In addition, US military officers made very clear in public statements that the United States would not support any kind of military intervention aimed at overturning electoral results. So, it is obvious that this had an impact, especially because military forces in Brazil and in the United States have been collaborating for several decades.

The fact that we now have an American president who is not committed to democracy and the rule of law in countries that are supposedly allies of the United States is alarming. I used to think that Brazil and the United States were allies, and they had been allies for a long time. But the way Donald Trump has been treating Brazil and its top government officials suggests that Brazil is no longer an ally. It is as if Brazil has become like Iran or another country placed by the United States in the so-called “axis of evil,” to use George Bush’s phrase.

This is very strange. We don’t have an atomic bomb. Brazil does not represent a threat to other countries. We never said that we wanted to drop bombs on Argentina, destroy it, or wipe out its population. Brazil is, in the end, a peaceful country. So everything that is going on is just because of politics—because of this transnational far-right network. Trump is using US foreign policy to help Bolsonaro, to help a political ally, which is obviously absurd. I am no specialist in American constitutional law, but I suspect this alone would be grounds for impeachment. This is very serious. So, yes, I think what is going on is very worrying.

The Far Right Is Now a Transnationally Connected Movement

Finally, considering your comparative research on coalition formation and right-wing populism, how should scholars understand the interplay between domestic party realignments in Brazil and the broader international networks of illiberal leaders, from Trump to Orbán and Erdogan?

Assoc. Prof. André Borges: That’s a good question. I have the impression that these transnational far-right, illiberal networks have been very important in the sense that they provide resources to far-right leaders across different regions of the world. There is a kind of mimicking going on: when Viktor Orbán succeeds in weakening checks and balances in Hungary, this becomes an example for other far-right populists in Latin America, Asia, and beyond. I feel this dynamic contributes to introducing new axes of conflict. In the end, once you recognize that there is a far-right international movement, it becomes clear that this is not a local phenomenon. It is something happening across the world, and these actors are connected.

In the case of Brazil, we know that some of these far-right leaders from abroad are trying to interfere in national affairs. Obviously, this is going to affect political divisions and how party systems organize around conflict. In the end, parties and politicians have to take a position and ask themselves: “What do I think about Trump trying to interfere in national political affairs?” Because ultimately, this is about national sovereignty. The whole idea of nationalism is that we cannot accept this. Such interference can have a very substantial impact, especially within the political right, where parties will have to decide where—and with whom—they stand. This could certainly reshape the party system in Brazil, particularly since opinion polls show that a very broad majority of the population is against Trump’s use of sanctions to meddle in internal political affairs. So this raises a clear question for far-right politicians: maybe they have gone too far.

Demonstration organized by KOD in Kraków, Poland, on January 9, 2016, in defense of free media and democracy against the PiS government. Photo: Krzysztof Nahlik.

Virtual Workshop Series — Session 2: The ‘Nation’ or just an ‘Accidental Society’: Identity, Polarization, Rule of Law and Human Rights in 1989–2025 Poland

On September 18, 2025, ECPS held the second session of the Virtual Workshop Series — “We, the People” and the Future of Democracy. Chaired by Professor Mavis Maclean (Oxford), the panel examined Poland’s democratic trajectory through themes of patriotism, constitutional conflict, human rights, and representation. Highlights included Professor Joanna Kurczewska’s call to recover Solidarity’s inclusive legacy, Dr. Kamil Joński’s analysis of Poland’s constitutional “quagmire,” Professor Małgorzata Fuszara’s exploration of contested women’s and minority rights, and Professor Jacek Kurczewski’s reframing of judicial representation. Discussants added comparative and moral-philosophical perspectives. The session concluded that Poland’s experience reflects global struggles: reclaiming inclusive traditions, defending institutions, and embedding rights remain vital for democratic renewal.

Reported by ECPS Staff

On September 18, 2025, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), in collaboration with Oxford University, convened the second session of its Virtual Workshop Series — ‘We, the People’ and the Future of Democracy: Interdisciplinary Approaches. The session, titled “The ‘Nation’ or just an ‘Accidental Society’: Identity, Polarization, Rule of Law and Human Rights in 1989–2025 Poland,” brought together leading scholars to examine the Polish case as a lens into broader struggles over democracy, representation, and rights. Chaired by Professor Mavis Maclean (University of Oxford), the event highlighted Poland’s experience of post-1989 transformation, the contested legacy of Solidarity, constitutional polarization, and ongoing battles over women’s and minority rights.

Following the introduction of the programme and participants by Reka Koleszar on behalf of ECPS, Prof. Mavis Maclean, CBE (St Hilda’s College, University of Oxford) opened by situating the discussion within a wider European context. Reflecting on Britain’s surge of far-right populism, she posed a dilemma: should mass populist movements be regarded as authentic expressions of civic grievance, or as dangerous forces of hatred and violence? She expressed hope that the Polish experience could illuminate how democracies might redirect discontent toward renewal rather than demagoguery.

The first presentation, delivered by Professor Jacek Kurczewski on behalf of his wife, the absent Professor Joanna Kurczewska (Polish Academy of Sciences), revisited her long-standing work on Polish patriotism. Drawing on the legacy of Solidarity and the role of Father Jerzy Popiełuszko, she argued that inclusive, pluralist patriotism once united workers, intellectuals, and clergy, but that its legacy has since weakened. She warned that today’s exclusionary populism thrives on the failure to sustain that inclusive vision.

Dr. Kamil Jonski  (University of Łódź) then addressed Poland’s constitutional polarization. His paper, “Single Text, Clashing Meanings,” traced how the 1997 Constitution, from its inception, was a battleground of rival axiologies. While liberals view it as a rights-based framework, conservatives interpret it through a lens of sovereignty and morality. The 2015 constitutional crisis, resulting in right-wing packing of the Tribunal, offered opportunity to impose one of those visions, and produced a constitutional quagmire with disagreement not only on values, but also legitimacy of institutions (including top judicial bodies).

Professor Malgorzata Fuszara  (University of Warsaw) explored the contested trajectory of human rights. She distinguished between broad consensus on universal rights after 1989 and the divisive politics of women’s and minority rights. Abortion restrictions, stalled LGBTQ reforms, and uneven protections illustrate enduring resistance. Yet she also highlighted progress, including the redefinition of rape law and gender quotas in parliament, underscoring the unfinished task of fully integrating women’s and minority rights into Poland’s human rights framework.

Finally, Professor Jacek Kurczewski (University of Warsaw) presented his own paper on representation and the rule of law. He challenged populist claims that only elected politicians embody the nation, arguing that judges also represent the nation through law, oath, and culture. Reviving lay participation in justice, he suggested, could counteract populist narratives and strengthen judicial legitimacy.

The discussion was enriched by three international discussants. Dr. Magdalena Solska (University of Fribourg) highlighted the need to revisit the legacy of Solidarity for democratic resilience and probed the paradox of women’s electoral behavior. Professor Barry Sullivan (Loyola University Chicago) compared Poland’s constitutional struggles to US debates, raising questions about the gap between cultural appeals and economic policy. Professor Krzysztof Motyka (Catholic University of Lublin) drew attention to the moral-philosophical dimensions of rights discourse, from Father Popiełuszko’s defense of life to the linguistic shift from civic to human rights.

Together, the session illuminated Poland as a microcosm of global struggles: how inclusive traditions are eroded by polarized politics, how constitutions fracture under competing axiologies, and how rights remain contested terrain.

Professor Mavis Maclean: Populism — Authentic Civic Voice or Dangerous Force of Hatred?

Participants of nationalist and anti-Islamic demonstration organized by far-right organisations use smoke races, hold banners in Warsaw, Poland on April 10, 2016. Photo: Wiola Wiaderek.

Mavis Maclean opened her contribution by emphasizing the significance of the discussion, describing it as both urgent and only just beginning to receive the attention it deserves. Reflecting on a recent conversation with a colleague who asked about the figure of Tommy Robinson, Maclean situated him within a broader European surge of far-right populism rooted in anxieties over immigration. She recalled that even British prime ministers had spoken of the country as becoming an “island of strangers.” For Maclean, this illustrates how immigration has become a focal point for rising populist energies that have caught established institutions unprepared.

She posed a central dilemma: should populist movements be valued as authentic expressions of civic sentiment, or feared as destabilizing forces that can slip into violence and hatred? Drawing contrasts with more hopeful movements in other contexts, Maclean warned that in Britain today the populist surge appears more threatening than transformative. Traditional party structures have weakened, with the Conservatives in decline and figures such as Nigel Farage and the Reform Party gaining visibility on the far right. Maclean expressed hope that the day’s presentations would help identify constructive responses—ways to reinforce the rule of law, rebuild political trust, and channel popular discontent into democratic renewal rather than demagoguery. 

Joanna Kurczewska: “Varieties of Polish Patriotism: Experience of Solidarity 1980–1989 in the Context of History and Anthropology of Ideas”

Solidarity logo on a flag during an anti-government demonstration, June 30, 2011, in Warsaw, Poland. Solidarity, a Polish trade union federation, was founded on August 31, 1980, at the Gdańsk Shipyard under the leadership of Lech Wałęsa. Photo: Tomasz Bidermann.

Because of illness, Professor Joanna Kurczewska (Polish Academy of Sciences) could not attend the panel in person. Her paper was instead delivered by her husband, Professor Jacek Kurczewski (University of Warsaw). His presentation offered a rich reconstruction of Kurczewska’s long-term research on the intellectual and cultural legacies of Polish patriotism, with particular attention to the Solidarity movement (1980–1989).

Kurczewski opened with reflections on the difficulty of translating concepts such as “patriotism” and “nationalism” across linguistic and cultural contexts. In Poland, patriotism carries largely positive connotations, while nationalism is often viewed with suspicion. By contrast, in English-language scholarship “nationalism” is frequently a neutral, technical category. Kurczewska’s analysis insists that these terms cannot be divorced from their cultural histories.

The paper revisited her pioneering study from the 1990s, based on interviews with 53 Polish politicians in the early years of the Third Republic. Surprisingly, many of them—whether from the former Communist Party or from the anti-communist opposition—downplayed Solidarity as a living source of political ideas. While acknowledging its historical importance, they treated it as a closed chapter rather than a repertoire for democratic renewal.

From Solidarity to Liberal Patriotism

Today, in a deeply polarized Poland divided between Law and Justice (PiS) and the Civic Coalition, Kurczewska argues it is essential to recall the pluralism and inclusivity that defined Solidarity’s original ethos. Born from the Interfactory Strike Committee in 1980, Solidarity united workers, engineers, intellectuals, and Catholic clergy under a shared platform, symbolized by the charismatic figure of Lech Wałęsa and the Black Madonna emblem on his lapel.

A key focus of Kurczewska’s analysis is the role of Father Jerzy Popiełuszko, the Catholic priest murdered by communist security services in 1984. Through his “Masses for the Homeland,” Popiełuszko created spaces that were both liturgical and profoundly civic. These gatherings became cultural products of resistance: religious rituals infused with democratic, republican, and Romantic ideals of truth, justice, courage, and solidarity. Importantly, they were inclusive, drawing believers and non-believers alike, and forging bonds between workers and intellectuals. In this, Kurczewska identifies a crucial anthropological dimension of patriotism—as lived practice and social performance, not just political ideology.

Popiełuszko’s sermons, she argues, advanced a form of “liberal patriotism.” Unlike traditional Polish Romantic nationalism, his vision insisted that the national community must guarantee individual autonomy and human rights. This creative redefinition of patriotism during late communism exemplifies how cultural and religious traditions can be reinterpreted to support democratic values.

Enigmatic Representation and Forgotten Legacies

Kurczewski then turned to the transition of the 1990s, when post-communist social democrats successfully reinserted themselves into politics. By appropriating elements of national tradition, they achieved electoral victories, while radical nationalists were marginalized to the political fringe. Yet, as Kurczewska warns, this era of “inclusive politics” has given way to a new fragmentation. Today, figures from the far-right fringe not only gain parliamentary seats but even sit in the European Parliament, bringing anti-Semitic, xenophobic, and anti-European rhetoric into the mainstream.

The conclusion of the paper introduced the notion of “enigmatic representation.” Kurczewska observed that Polish politicians of the 1990s, whether post-communist or from the Solidarity camp, tended to speak in the name of “the nation” or “society” without genuine interest in citizen voices. Society was treated as an object to be mobilized rather than a subject of representation. She suggested that this top-down approach may have sown long-term frustration, paving the way for today’s populist politics, which relies on exclusive language, sharp polarization, and appeals to younger generations through anti-migrant and anti-EU narratives.

The paper ultimately invites us to reconsider Solidarity not as a nostalgic memory, but as a resource for rebuilding democratic culture. Its pluralism, inclusive patriotism, and agonistic rather than antagonistic style of communication offer lessons for today’s Poland, where politics risks sliding into exclusionary populism. Kurczewska’s anthropological lens underscores that patriotism, when rooted in lived practices of solidarity, can remain a democratic force rather than a vehicle of division.

Delivered with warmth and intellectual care by Professor Jacek Kurczewski, the paper stood as both a historical analysis and a contemporary warning: Poland’s democratic future may depend on recovering the forgotten legacies of inclusive patriotism forged in the crucible of Solidarity.

Dr. Kamil Joński: “Single Text, Clashing Meanings: Political Polarization, Constitutional Axiology and the Polish Constitutional Quagmire”

Dr. Kamil Joński’s presentation offered a penetrating exploration of the Polish constitutional crisis, reframing it as not merely a legal or institutional dispute but as a struggle over political meaning, legitimacy, and the cultural axiology of constitutionalism itself. His central thesis was clear: although the 1997 Constitution has become an accepted normative text in Poland, its interpretation has fractured along deep political, cultural, and religious cleavages. This fragmentation has led to what Dr. Joński called a “constitutional quagmire,” in which the same constitutional text sustains radically divergent visions of democracy, the rule of law, and the legitimacy of the judicial bodies to be recognized as a court of law.

Historical Cleavages and the Rise of Polarization

Dr. Joński began by situating the problem historically. The first decade after the fall of communism was dominated by what scholars call the post-communist cleavage: the political opposition between former regime actors and the dissident opposition. Yet this cleavage reached exhaustion by the early 2000s.

By 2001, two new parties emerged from the younger generation of anti-communists: Civic Platform (PO), founded by Donald Tusk, and Law and Justice (PiS), founded by the Kaczyński brothers. Since 2005, Dr. Joński argued, the rivalry between these two parties has organized not only political life but also the constitutional order itself. 

The Fragile Legitimacy of the 1997 Constitution

 

Dr. Joński turned next to the peculiar circumstances of the 1997 Constitution. Although it has endured for nearly three decades, its legitimacy has always been contested. Drafted by a parliament with an artificial post-communist majority—produced by electoral reform rather than a genuine social mandate—it was opposed by the Christian right, which offered an alternative “citizens’ draft” of the constitution. Finally, the constitution was approved in a referendum by the majority of 53.5% of voters on a 43% turnout. According to its critics, this meant less than one-quarter of eligible Poles endorsed the Constitution,  labeling it not only “post-communist” but also “a minority constitution.” Yet, this contested document functioned relatively effectively for nearly 20 years, providing a framework for governance, EU accession, and steady economic development.

The 2015 Break: From Amendment to Interpretation

This balance collapsed in 2015. For the first time since democratization, one party—PiS—secured both a single-party parliamentary majority and the presidency. This unique constellation of power made it possible to embark on what retired Constitutional Tribunal justice Professor M. Wyrzykowski described as a “war against the Constitution.” Crucially, PiS lacked the supermajorities needed for formal constitutional amendment. Instead, it turned to institutional capture of the Constitutional Tribunal as a means of constitutional change through interpretation.

To this end PiS embarked what Dr. Jonski called “purposeful top-down de-legitimization” of the Tribunal. Initially respected across the political spectrum, and even praised for rulings sympathetic to Catholic doctrine in issues like abortion, the Tribunal was rapidly delegitimized through propaganda campaigns. branding it as an enemy of “the people.” Once PiS nominees assumed control over the Tribunal, it became what Professor Wojciech Sadurski has termed a “governmental enabler.” For PiS supporters, the Tribunal was re-legitimized as a defender of “the people” against liberal elites.

The Long Shadow of 1997

One of the most striking elements of Dr. Joński’s presentation was his demonstration of the continuity between the 1997 referendum and contemporary politics. Using electoral and survey data, he showed that nearly 45% of the variance in the 2025 presidential runoff could be explained by voting patterns from the 1997 constitutional referendum. In other words, attitudes toward the Constitution nearly three decades earlier are still visible on the Poland’s political map.

This persistence suggests that disputes about the Constitution are not only institutional but deeply cultural, rooted in long-standing divisions between religiously practicing conservatives and more secular, liberal constituencies.

Survey Evidence: Religion, Memory, and Constitutional Identity

Dr. Joński enriched his argument examining data from the late 1990s through the 2010s, to  trac how different groups answered the questions related to the Constitution. Due to the shifts in Polish political landscape, he grouped respondents according to two criteria: self-identification on the left-right scale and religious service attendance.

In 1997, opposition to the constitution was heavily concentrated among respondents identifying with political right and declaring weekly service attendance. By 2017, very few Poles openly admitted to opposing the Constitution twenty years earlier—evidence that it had been normalized as a “fact of life.” Yet this apparent acceptance concealed ongoing dissatisfaction. Practicing right-wing voters most frequently expressed the strongest desire for constitutional change.

In 1997, opposition was heavily concentrated among practicing Catholics on the right. By 2017, very few Poles openly admitted to opposing the Constitution—evidence that it had been normalized as a “fact of life.” Yet this apparent acceptance concealed ongoing dissatisfaction. Practicing right-wing voters consistently expressed the strongest desire for constitutional change, arguing that the text was ill-suited to Poland’s needs.

When constitutional amendment proved politically unattainable, these constituencies turned to reinterpretation through institutional capture. This strategy was visible in survey responses during the height of the Tribunal crisis: when asked whether they supported the Tribunal or the government, practicing right-wing voters typically sided with the latter, despite the Tribunal’s earlier record of religiously sympathetic rulings on abortion, “blasphemy” and “conscientious objection.

Competing Constitutional Axiologies

The idea of saturating constitutional text with values is offered by legal doctrines favored on the political left (R. Dworkin’s 1996 “moral reading” of constitution) as well as right (A. Vermeule’s 2022 “Common Good Constitutionalism”).

At the heart of Dr. Joński’s analysis is the idea that such process occurred in Poland, and on both sides of axiological conflict. Thus, Poland faces a paradox: the Constitution can be shared as a text, yet it divides substantively as a contested source of meaning. Each camp projects its values onto the same text, producing parallel constitutional orders.

The Dual-Track Constitutional Order

After 2015 constitutional crisis and its implications, the situation is even worse, as both sides disagree not only on axiological meaning of the constitutional provisions, but also on the institutions legitimized to resolve the disputes (the legality of judicial appointment and the very status of the court of law). Today, Poland operates under what Dr. Joński called a dual-track constitutional regime.

Conclusion: A Constitution without Consensus

In closing, Dr. Joński emphasized the paradoxical nature of Polish constitutionalism. The 1997 Constitution, once derided as illegitimate, has become broadly accepted as a normative framework. Yet this acceptance has not produced consensus. Instead, it has given rise to clashing interpretations, each claiming fidelity to the text while advancing divergent value systems, visions of democracy, sovereignty, and rights.

This “single text, clashing meanings” dynamic illustrates the fragility of constitutional democracy in polarized societies. Poland’s experience suggests that legitimacy is not only a matter of formal adoption but of sustained cultural consensus. Absent that, constitutions risk becoming battlegrounds of identity, leaving societies vulnerable to constitutional crises.

Prof. Małgorzata Fuszara: “Protection of Human Rights and Its Implications for Women’s and Minority Rights”

Women’s strike and protest in Warsaw, Poland, against the abortion ban and the legal changes restricting the right to appeal fines or penalties. Photo: Eryk Losik.

Professor Małgorzata Fuszara delivered a nuanced and historically grounded analysis of the trajectory of human rights in Poland, with particular attention to the contested arenas of women’s rights and minority rights. Her paper carefully distinguished between two categories: the general, universal human rights that gained wide acceptance after 1989, and the more divisive domains of gender equality and minority protection, which remain highly politicized.

Human Rights under Authoritarianism and the Democratic Breakthrough

Professor Fuszara began with a reminder of the authoritarian context before 1989. For half a century, fundamental rights such as freedom of speech, freedom of association, the right to demonstrate, and the freedom to travel abroad were absent or severely restricted. Even trivial matters, such as the minutes of academic meetings, required approval by the censor. Public gatherings of more than five people needed official authorization. Passports were withheld and permission was required for every trip abroad.

Such restrictions underscored how authoritarian regimes can comprehensively curtail freedoms. Against this backdrop, the democratic breakthrough of 1989 brought a remarkable consensus: across the political spectrum, there was broad agreement on the need to enshrine fundamental rights. Drafting regulations for assemblies, for instance, was not a divisive issue. The recognition of basic human rights became part of Poland’s democratic DNA, at least at the level of principle.

From Consensus to Contestation

Yet Professor Fuszara emphasized that the consensus around general human rights did not extend to the rights of women and minorities. Here, division emerged immediately after 1989. The most striking example was reproductive rights. Under communism, abortion had been legal since 1956, earlier than in much of Western Europe. Generations of Polish women grew accustomed to reproductive autonomy. Thus, it came as a shock when the very first legislative proposals in the post-1989 parliament sought to introduce a total ban on abortion.

This debate revealed deep internal fractures. Even within Solidarność, the emblem of democratic opposition, the leadership supported abortion restrictions, while the women’s section opposed them. Since then, reproductive rights have remained one of the most divisive issues in Polish politics. Attempts to tighten abortion laws, particularly through Constitutional Tribunal rulings, repeatedly sparked mass mobilizations. The so-called “Black Protests” drew waves of young women—and many men—onto the streets, reshaping electoral patterns. Yet despite these mobilizations, restrictive laws remain in place, making abortion a symbol of both resistance and regression in contemporary Poland.

Minority Rights: Uneven Trajectories

Turning to minority rights, Professor Fuszara offered a differentiated assessment. The situation of ethnic and national minorities is relatively stable and in line with European Union standards. Legal provisions facilitate their parliamentary representation, and although disputes persist over which groups qualify as national minorities, these are largely managed within democratic debate.

In contrast, sexual minorities remain excluded from full equality. Efforts to introduce marriage equality or even civil partnerships have repeatedly failed. Professor Fuszara recalled attempts made over a decade ago, including during her own tenure as government plenipotentiary for equality, which were ultimately defeated. Although new proposals occasionally emerge, expectations remain low, and Poland continues to lag behind Western Europe in this field.

Professor Fuszara also stressed that formal legal guarantees often diverge from political practice. She recalled episodes when women protesting abortion restrictions faced harsh police repression, highlighting how authorities can undermine rights through coercive enforcement. These instances illustrate the fragility of rights protections in polarized contexts: while the principles of human rights may enjoy rhetorical consensus, their application can be obstructed by partisan or authoritarian impulses.

Recent Advances and Sources of Optimism

Despite these challenges, Professor Fuszara pointed to important achievements. Poland has ratified the Istanbul Convention, strengthening protections against gender-based violence. A major legal reform last month redefined rape in line with feminist jurisprudence, foregrounding the perspective of the victim for the first time. This marked an overdue recognition of the principle that women’s rights are human rights.

She also highlighted the adoption of gender quotas in electoral lists in 2011. Poland is, alongside states of the former Yugoslavia, one of the few post-communist countries to institutionalize such measures. As a result, women now hold slightly over 30% of parliamentary seats—a modest but significant improvement compared to the past, and higher than in several neighboring states, such as Hungary, where women constitute just 15% of parliament.

Nevertheless, Professor Fuszara closed with a sober reflection. Under communism, gender equality had been proclaimed as a principle, but often only formally. Post-1989, this principle was never fully reframed within the human rights paradigm. The slogan “women’s rights are human rights,” first articulated globally at the Vienna Conference in 1993 and reaffirmed in Beijing in 1995, still struggles to gain full resonance in Poland. For many politicians, gender equality remains a marginal issue, subordinated to party competition or cultural conservatism.

Conclusion

Professor Fuszara’s presentation revealed a paradox at the heart of Polish democracy. On one hand, there is a strong, cross-party commitment to universal human rights, born of the shared memory of authoritarian restrictions. On the other, women’s rights and minority rights continue to be arenas of deep contestation, exposing the limits of consensus and the persistence of patriarchal and exclusionary norms.

Her reflections traced both regression—visible in abortion restrictions and stalled progress on LGBTQ rights—and genuine advances, such as the redefinition of rape and the implementation of gender quotas. Above all, she insisted that rights cannot be taken for granted. They must be continuously defended, reframed, and expanded. The challenge remains to integrate women’s rights and minority rights fully into the fabric of human rights, so that they are no longer treated as exceptions but as integral to the democratic promise made in 1989.

Professor Jacek Kurczewski: “Who Speaks for Whom: The Issue of Representation in the Struggle for the Rule of Law”

Modern building of the Supreme Court of Poland in Warsaw, photographed on January 7, 2020. Photo: Dreamstime.

In his presentation, Professor Jacek Kurczewski explored the contested notion of representation at the heart of Poland’s ongoing rule-of-law conflict. Framing the problem through both political sociology and constitutional analysis, he examined how populist rhetoric weaponizes the formula “we, the people” against the judiciary, and how judges themselves may legitimately be understood as representatives of the nation.

Populism, “the People,” and Judicial Autonomy

Professor Kurczewski began by situating the debate in the populist appropriation of democracy. Leaders of the ruling Law and Justice party (PiS) claimed to embody the authentic will of the people, portraying judicial independence as an undemocratic obstacle. Judges, they argued, were relics of communist privilege or elitist guardians hostile to popular sovereignty. The rhetoric was often vulgar—accusations ranged from petty theft to corruption—but also grounded in a doctrinal attack: the judiciary was accused of claiming sovereignty for itself, elevating constitutional interpretation above the elected parliament.

This framing, Professor Kurczewski noted, created a false dichotomy: elected representatives as the sole voice of the people versus judges cast as self-appointed elites. The populist narrative ignored the constitutional and cultural grounds by which judges themselves exercise representative authority.

The Judiciary and Competing Logics of Representation

Drawing on Hanna Pitkin’s classic theory of representation—the idea of representing what is not physically present— Professor Kurczewski argued that judges too represent the nation. They do so not through electoral mandate but through their role as guardians of law, which is itself a core element of national culture. The Polish constitution, party manifestos, and civic tradition define the nation as a community of culture, history, and shared values. Law, he emphasized, is inseparable from this community; to apply and protect it is to embody the nation’s identity.

Judicial oaths reinforce this function. Each Polish judge swears to serve the Republic faithfully, uphold the law, and dispense justice impartially and with dignity. In this way, judges symbolically—and practically—act as representatives of the nation’s legal and moral order, even though they are not chosen by direct election.

Professor Kurczewski highlighted that the tension is not between representation and non-representation but between different forms of representation. Parliamentarians, under the free mandate principle inherited from Burkean tradition, represent the nation as a whole rather than their constituencies. Judges, by contrast, represent justice and the legal order. Both are indirect vehicles of sovereignty, as Article 4 of the Polish Constitution affirms that power derives from the nation and is exercised either directly or through representatives. Thus, the confrontation between politicians and judges is not about legitimacy per se, but about clashing logics of legitimacy—electoral versus legal-constitutional.

Professor Kurczewski also lamented the decline of lay judges in Poland since 1989. Once a significant institution allowing citizens to participate directly in adjudication, lay judges were marginalized in the transition era as professional judges sought to elevate the dignity and autonomy of the judiciary. This, he argued, was a missed opportunity. Strengthening lay participation could provide a democratic bridge between the judiciary and society, countering populist claims that judges are isolated elites.

Conclusion

Professor Kurczewski concluded that defending judicial independence cannot rely solely on institutional autonomy. It must also involve rethinking representation in more inclusive ways. Recognizing judges as representatives of the nation—albeit in a distinct mode from elected politicians—undermines populist accusations of illegitimacy. At the same time, reinforcing lay participation in courts could help reconnect the judiciary with society, blunting populist attacks and deepening democratic legitimacy.

Ultimately, the struggle for the rule of law in Poland is not only a battle over institutions but also over meanings of representation itself. Who speaks for the nation—the politicians who claim its voice, or the judges who embody its law? Professor Kurczewski’s intervention suggested that the answer must acknowledge both, while resisting the authoritarian temptation to silence one in the name of the other.

Discussants’ Contributions

Dr. Magdalena Solska (University of Fribourg)

The first discussant, Dr. Magdalena Solska, Assistant Professor at the University of Fribourg, opened the commentary session by reflecting on the richness of the panel and the uniqueness of the Polish case. She approached her role primarily through questions and reflections designed to stimulate further debate.

Turning first to Prof. Joanna Kurczewska’s paper on Polish patriotism and the legacy of Solidarity, Dr. Solska praised the author’s use of the concept of resistance rather than mere opposition. She underlined that in political science, resistance carries a moral and normative dimension highly relevant to understanding the Solidarity movement of the 1980s. Yet she also raised a challenging question: was it perhaps inevitable that the legacy of Solidarity would weaken in the face of the unprecedented pressures of post-communist transformation—social, political, and especially economic? In her view, the turbulence of systemic change may have eroded the sense of national community that Solidarity once embodied. If so, she suggested, today’s polarized context may offer an opportune moment to revisit that legacy and ask how it could contribute to democratic resilience.

On Dr. Kamil Joński’s analysis of constitutional polarization, Dr. Solska praised the presentation as resourceful and empirically rich, especially in its reconstruction of the long and contentious constitution-making process of the 1990s. She welcomed the reminder that Poland’s constitutional reality long preceded its final text, making the process unique compared with other post-communist countries. At the same time, she offered constructive critiques. First, she encouraged Dr. Joński to state his research question more clearly at the outset, as the central argument—explaining the enduring loyalty of PiS’s electorate—only emerged at the end. Second, she questioned his use of “liberal-democratic” versus “religious-traditional” categories, suggesting that the latter can also be democratic and that alternative labels might better capture the cleavage. Finally, she argued that the desire for constitutional change among practicing conservatives should not automatically be viewed as negative, given the ambiguities of the 1997 constitution. She encouraged deeper engagement with the role of political polarization, which in her view desensitizes electorates to rule-bending practices by their preferred parties.

With respect to Professor Małgorzata Fuszara’s presentation on human rights, women, and minorities, Dr. Solska raised a probing question about electoral behavior: why do significant numbers of women in Poland vote for PiS, often in higher proportions than for the liberal Civic Coalition? This paradox, she suggested, requires careful sociological and political analysis.

Finally, commenting on Professor Jacek Kurczewski’s reflections on representation and the rule of law, Dr. Solska asked how, in a context of deep political polarization, the rule of law might realistically be restored or strengthened. Since the rule of law presupposes broad consensus, she expressed skepticism about whether such consensus is achievable in today’s climate and pressed Professor Kurczewski to consider not if but how this renewal might occur.

Her remarks set the tone for an engaged and critical discussion, highlighting conceptual nuances, empirical puzzles, and the pressing challenge of polarization across all contributions.

Professor Barry Sullivan (Loyola University Chicago School of Law)

The second discussant, Professor Barry Sullivan of Loyola University Chicago, opened his remarks by situating the Polish experience within a comparative perspective shaped by his own work on American constitutionalism. Noting that he often asks his students to grapple with the challenges of interpreting and implementing a constitution written more than two centuries ago, he found Dr. Joński’s analysis of Poland’s constitutional trajectory particularly illuminating. He highlighted the striking continuity Dr. Joński traced between the contested adoption of the 1997 Constitution and today’s disputes over its meaning, emphasizing how early legitimacy deficits continue to reverberate decades later.

Drawing from the US context, Professor Sullivan posed a pointed question: to what extent does the Polish case reveal a disconnect between cultural politics and economic interests similar to that visible in the United States? He observed that in contemporary American politics, ruling parties often cultivate loyalty by appealing to socially conservative values—on issues such as abortion, marriage equality, and education—while simultaneously advancing deregulatory or pro-capitalist policies that may not materially benefit the same constituencies. He asked whether a similar disjunction between value-based appeals and economic outcomes can be seen in Poland’s current political landscape.

Turning to Professor Jacek Kurczewski’s reflections on judicial independence and representation, Professor Sullivan drew an instructive comparison with the US Supreme Court. In recent years, he noted, the Court has increasingly aligned itself with the executive branch, issuing consequential rulings at great speed and often without reasoned explanations. This, he stressed, departs from the traditional American ideal of the rule of law, which requires not only judgments but transparent justifications that anchor decisions in legal reasoning rather than political expediency. Professor Sullivan thus invited further discussion of whether Poland’s embattled judiciary faces parallel challenges, and how judges can maintain legitimacy in the face of politicized attacks.

Finally, Professor Sullivan engaged with Professor Fuszara’s presentation on human rights, women, and minority rights, drawing an analogy to the US struggle over civil society and historical memory. He noted that in Poland, as Professor Fuszara described, the media and public institutions became contested arenas after 1989. Today, in the US, similar dynamics are unfolding as political actors attempt to control not only state institutions but also cultural ones once assumed to be apolitical, such as museums, the Smithsonian, or even the National Park Service. He cited recent reports of efforts to purge references to slavery and racial injustice from park materials, framing this as part of a broader strategy to politicize civil society and restrict critical narratives.

In closing, Professor Sullivan praised the panel for offering a rich comparative perspective on constitutionalism, human rights, and political polarization. While acknowledging his questions as those of an outsider, he emphasized how Poland’s experience provides important lessons for scholars and practitioners wrestling with the fragility of the rule of law in democracies old and new.

Professor Krzysztof Motyka (John Paul II Catholic University of Lublin)

The third discussant, Professor Krzysztof Motyka, offered reflections that bridged the three presentations while drawing on historical, theological, and sociological perspectives. He began with a commentary on the legacy of Blessed Father Jerzy Popiełuszko, situating him not only as a figure of anti-communist resistance but also as an early defender of human rights. Professor Motyka underscored that Popiełuszko consistently emphasized the sanctity of life “from conception,” opposing the liberal abortion laws of communist Poland. While not advocating punitive measures, he insisted that the Church’s responsibility lay in both proclaiming the sanctity of life and ensuring social and state support for women in difficult circumstances. Professor Motyka reminded the audience that Popiełuszko remains venerated as a patron of reconciliation and respect for life, symbolized by his inclusion in national commemorations. He also recalled Cardinal Glemp’s 1988 caution that protecting the unborn must not become a tool of political bargaining, highlighting the tension between moral conviction and political instrumentalization.

Turning to Professor Fuszara’s presentation, Professor Motyka focused on the linguistic and conceptual transformation in Poland’s rights discourse. Before 1989, he noted, academic and legal circles predominantly used the language of “civil” or “civic rights,” tied to the framework of citizenship and the state. Only in the late 1980s did the universalist vocabulary of “human rights” gain prominence, a shift that reflected broader philosophical and political change. The adoption of this language after the democratic transition, he argued, signaled a recognition that rights derive from human dignity and nature, not merely from state recognition.

Finally, commenting on Dr. Joński’s analysis of constitutional polarization, Professor Motyka provided a personal reflection. While uncertain of his own vote in the 1997 constitutional referendum, he recalled that many Poles who opposed the text did so less for substantive reasons than for historical or emotional ones. For some, it seemed a bitter irony that a parliament dominated by post-communists was entrusted with drafting and adopting the nation’s new constitution—a task many believed should have belonged to the democratic opposition. For these voters, rejecting the Constitution was less about legal content and more about expressing a sense of historical injustice.

Professor Motyka concluded by thanking the panel, stressing that such interdisciplinary dialogue helps illuminate the deeper moral, cultural, and symbolic dimensions of Poland’s constitutional struggles.

Concluding Assessments by Professor Mavis Maclean

In her closing reflections, Professor Mavis Maclean offered a comparative perspective from the United Kingdom, noting with interest that none of the panelists had raised the issue of money. In the UK, she explained, questions of judicial policy, legal reform, or access to justice are always framed by cost. Having worked as an advisor in the Ministry of Justice, she recalled that every proposal was first judged by whether it offered “value for money”—a narrow and often crude measure for shaping a justice system. By contrast, Australia has adopted a more nuanced framework, discussing reforms in terms of “social return on investment,” yet even there, financial justification dominates policymaking. Maclean observed, with a touch of irony, that Poland must be “so rich” not to worry about such constraints, though she suspected this might not fully be the case.

Turning back to the themes of the seminar, she emphasized how refreshing it was to hear discussions focused on values rather than pounds and pence. In Britain, even debates about immigration, populist protest, and human rights are quickly reduced to questions of affordability—border controls, asylum procedures, or welfare costs. By contrast, today’s conversation had foregrounded principles: rule of law, democracy, patriotism, and social solidarity. She concluded warmly, congratulating the presenters for offering not only answers but also new terms and questions to reflect upon long after the session.

Panelists’ Replies

Professor Małgorzata Fuszara began by addressing the question of why women appeared to support Law and Justice (PiS) more than Civic Coalition (KO). She clarified that this impression is misleading. While PiS did secure more total votes than KO, the gender balance within each electorate shows a different pattern. Among PiS voters, men outnumbered women; conversely, among KO supporters, women outnumbered men. The clearest gender divide emerges at the extremes. In the far-right Confederation electorate, fewer than 30% of voters are women, while over 70% are men. On the left (Lewica), the trend reverses: more than 60% of voters are women. This divide has sharpened since the abortion protests, particularly among younger generations—young women tend to vote for the left, while young men lean to the far right.

Turning to media, Professor Fuszara stressed that control over television, though still significant, is an old debate. The new battlefield lies in social media, which once held the promise of greater freedom of expression but is now vulnerable to manipulation. Disinformation campaigns and far-right influence in digital spaces, she warned, pose a profound threat to democracy.

Dr. Kamil Jonski added a brief but pointed reflection on constitutional politics. He agreed that recognizing the need to amend the Polish Constitution is not problematic in itself. The danger, however, lies in the trajectory: opposition to the Constitution, followed by calls for amendment, then support for court-packing, and finally acceptance of its outcomes. This sequence, he argued, captures the narrative of groups seeking to reshape constitutional law to their advantage.

Replying to Dr. Solska’s question on how to resolve the conflict over the Rule of Law in Poland, Professor Kurczewski said: “I think we need to once again draw on Solidarity’s past experience. As Tadeusz Mazowiecki, Poland’s first non-communist Prime Minister after 1989, said, we need a ‘thick line’ (gruba kreska) to separate the future from the past. A full reset of the machinery of justice and a renewal of the judiciary is the only solution.”

Photo: Dreamstime.

Overall Conclusion

The second session of the ECPS–Oxford University Virtual Workshop Series, “The ‘Nation’ or just an ‘Accidental Society’: Identity, Polarization, Rule of Law and Human Rights in 1989–2025 Poland,” revealed Poland as both a distinctive case and a mirror of global democratic challenges.

Professor Joanna Kurczewska’s paper, presented by Professor Jacek Kurczewski, underscored how Solidarity’s inclusive patriotism—once uniting workers, clergy, and intellectuals—has been eclipsed by exclusionary narratives. Dr. Kamil Joński traced the constitutional quagmire created by divergent axiological readings of the 1997 Constitution, showing how a single text can sustain polarized visions of democracy. Professor Małgorzata Fuszara demonstrated that while consensus formed around universal human rights after 1989, women’s and minority rights remain embattled terrain, marked by regression in reproductive rights but tempered by incremental progress such as gender quotas and reforms to sexual violence law. In his own contribution, Professor Jacek Kurczewski reframed the judiciary as a representative institution of the nation, stressing that defending the rule of law requires broadening the democratic meaning of representation.

The discussants deepened the analysis: Dr. Magdalena Solska highlighted the fragility of Solidarity’s legacy and the paradoxes of electoral behavior; Professor Barry Sullivan drew US–Polish comparisons on constitutionalism and the politicization of civil society; and Professor Krzysztof Motyka reminded participants of the moral-philosophical dimensions of rights discourse, linking contemporary struggles to the witness of Father Jerzy Popiełuszko.

As Chair, Professor Mavis Maclean reminded the audience that while populism may reflect civic grievances, it can also corrode democratic institutions. The Polish experience, she argued, offers lessons for how democracies might transform discontent into renewal rather than demagoguery.

This session thus underscored a central theme of the workshop series: that the future of democracy hinges on reclaiming inclusive traditions, defending contested institutions, and embedding rights in both law and culture.

Dr. Mara Nogueira is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London.

Dr. Nogueira: Brazil Did with Bolsonaro What the US Failed to Do with Trump

In an interview with ECPS, Dr. Mara Nogueira (Birkbeck, University of London) argues that Brazil’s decision to convict Jair Bolsonaro for plotting a coup marks a turning point in democratic accountability. “By convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy,” she says. Rejecting claims of judicial overreach, Dr. Nogueira stresses: “The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role.” She welcomes the unprecedented prosecution of both civil and military senior officers since the 1964–85 dictatorship, while warning that far-right actors are already mobilizing “judicial dictatorship” narratives. For her, the trial sends a crucial signal: “It’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état—and if you do so, you will face charges.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The conviction of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro to 27 years in prison for plotting a coup has generated both domestic turbulence and international controversy. While his lawyers denounce the ruling as politically motivated, and allies abroad echo claims of persecution, Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (STF) has framed the case as a necessary step to defend democracy against authoritarian threats. Against this backdrop, Dr. Mara Nogueira, Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London, reflects on the political and institutional meaning of Bolsonaro’s trial in an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS).

Dr. Nogueira underscores that the trial signals democratic resilience rather than overreach: “By convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy.” She contrasts Brazil’s approach to accountability with the United States, where Trump has avoided similar consequences: “You had the foot soldiers of the Capitol invasion going to jail, while Trump not only remained free but was also allowed to run for president and become president again.”

In her view, the STF has not exceeded its mandate but fulfilled it: “I think the evidence that Bolsonaro and his conspirators attempted a coup d’état is hard to ignore, so when a crime like that is committed, it needs to be punished. The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role.” Importantly, she welcomes the fact that not only Bolsonaro, but also senior officers are facing accountability for the first time since the 1964–85 military dictatorship. “Perhaps Brazil would have had a different history if that had been done sooner,” she notes.

At the same time, Dr. Nogueira remains cautious. She observes that far-right actors are already mobilizing the “judicial dictatorship” narrative: “What they want in this case, however, is impunity. The revenge is already underway, with Congress now voting to expand its protection against legal prosecution.” She also highlights the fragility of Brazilian democracy, pointing to Bolsonaro’s 2018 victory and the January 8, 2023, attack as symptoms of unresolved cleavages. Yet she stresses that the conviction sends a crucial signal: “It does not inoculate against authoritarian relapse, but it does send a message that it’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état, and if you do so, you will face charges.”

For Dr. Nogueira, Bolsonaro’s conviction represents both accountability and warning. Whether it deepens polarization or strengthens democratic institutions will depend on how political actors and society interpret this landmark moment.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. Mara Nogueira, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

Dissent Shows Democracy at Work, Not Dictatorship

Supporters of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro protest Supreme Court actions in his trial on Paulista Avenue, São Paulo, Brazil, August 3, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Dr. Mara Nogueira, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How do you interpret Justice Luiz Fux’s lone vote to absolve Bolsonaro on jurisdictional and evidentiary grounds—arguing lack of proof, improper venue, and unmanageable case files—within Brazil’s broader debates on lawfare? Even as a majority of Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (STF) has now convicted Bolsonaro for leading a “criminal organisation” to plot a coup, could Fux’s reasoning still provide legal ammunition for appeals, annulment claims, or retrial efforts?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: For anyone following the trial closely, Fux’s vote was not a surprise, since he had been signaling this divergence with the reporting judge for a while. That said, his vote was surprising given his prior positions in the trial of the participants in the invasion of Congress on January 8, 2023, and his overall trajectory in the Supreme Court. So, it was unexpected when considered in light of his own trajectory rather than what was anticipated of him in this trial.

I think he attempted to give a technical veneer to an 11-hour vote that was eminently political. His judgment essentially shifted depending on who was being accused. He was clearly speaking to a wider audience rather than to his peers. But I don’t see his lone vote as an issue; on the contrary, in a democracy with functioning institutions, dissent is part of the process.

The fact that Fux was able to voice his dissent, contrary to what the far right argues, shows that there isn’t a dictatorship in Brazil. In a dictatorship, he wouldn’t be allowed to dissent or he would have faced persecution for doing so. Neither of those things happened. Instead, he is facing criticism from part of the public and being celebrated by others, which is not abnormal in any sense.

But I don’t think his vote changes anything. At the end of the day, Bolsonaro and his co-conspirators were convicted, and I believe, rightly so. In a highly politicized trial such as this, of course, Bolsonaro’s supporters will seize on anything to twist the facts and argue for his innocence. They will push as far as they can, but in the current context, I don’t see how this trial could be overturned, even if it went to the plenary.

That said, a future annulment would obviously depend on how the political landscape in Brazil evolves in the coming years, and it’s very hard to predict, in my opinion. The Supreme Court is not isolated from the broader political climate, and changes in its composition under, for instance, a future far-right government could have consequences. We only need to look at the US to see what that might look like. Still, I think that by convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy.

Convicting Bolsonaro and the Military Officers Shows Institutions are at Work

With the STF asserting unprecedented authority—convicting a former president and top generals, placing Bolsonaro under house arrest, and wading into disinformation inquiries—does this expanded role bolster democratic resilience, or risk normalizing states of exception that revanchist actors can exploit as evidence of “judicial dictatorship”?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: As I already mentioned, by looking at the US, you can see the consequences of not prosecuting an attempted coup d’état. The US now has a president with unprecedented authority, backed by a Congress that is essentially on his side, and a very politically aligned Supreme Court. So, you can ask, where are the checks and balances in the US right now? Of course, I’m not an expert in American politics, but the current state of affairs seems to imply that the US president can do as he pleases, including attempts to influence judicial proceedings in a foreign country, as he is trying to do in Brazil.

I think the evidence that Bolsonaro and his conspirators attempted a coup d’état is hard to ignore, so when a crime like that is committed, it needs to be punished. The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role. And I see it positively that not only a former president but also the military are, for the first time in Brazil’s history, being convicted for attempting to abolish the democratic rule of law. Perhaps Brazil would have had a different history if that had been done sooner.

But as I said previously, the far right will attempt to exploit what happened to paint a picture that we live in, as you say, a judicial dictatorship. What they want in this case, however, is impunity. The revenge is already underway, with Congress now voting to expand its protection against legal prosecution, for instance. There is also ongoing discussion about a bill aimed at the participants of January 8. This bill is nicknamed the Amnesty Bill, though it should be called, in my opinion, the Impunity Bill, because what Congress is trying to do is to reinterpret the notion of amnesty to appease a political group and perhaps set, what I believe, would be a very dangerous precedent.

This idea that Fux mentioned in his speech—that the January 8 participants were a disorganized or unruly mob—is preposterous and ignores the broader context in which the invasion of Congress occurred. Yes, they were unable to overthrow the state, thank God, but they failed because the rest of the plot didn’t work out, and their leader, Bolsonaro, knowing the plan had failed, fled to the US.

All that said, I’m not a particularly optimistic person, and I am not a big fan of the kind of worship the Supreme Court judges are receiving these days, but in this instance, I think they are performing their duty, which is to safeguard the democratic rule of law in the country. A dictatorship would imply the suppression of other powers and an authoritarian ruler, and this is not what’s happening in Brazil right now. Only those living in far-right bubbles will interpret the context in that way.

No Crisis Between Government and Military Despite Convictions

Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro during 74th Anniversary of Parachutist Infantry Battalion held at Military Village in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on November 23, 2019. Photo: Celso Pupo

The conviction encompassed senior military officers for the first time since the 1964–85 dictatorship. How does this reshape Brazil’s civil–military relations, especially in a context where the armed forces remain politically salient and segments of society view them as guarantors of order?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: That’s quite an interesting point. Historically, the military has been behind all the successful coups in Brazil, and there have been several. So, as I already mentioned, I see it positively that after so many other instances, the military is finally facing legal consequences for its actions.

I’ve been following the media coverage of the trial very closely, and I don’t think, at least from my perspective, that this has been a major point of discussion. As far as I can tell, there is no crisis at the moment between the government and the military, or between the Supreme Court and the military, and perhaps that has to do with the surprising fact that the military played an important role in preventing this particular coup d’état from succeeding.

Just one of the military commanders, Almir Garnier Santos, who was the commander of the Navy under Bolsonaro, was convicted. Out of the three military commanders, he was the only one who went along with the plan. For many analysts, the coup failed because it didn’t have the support of the Army and Air Force commanders, who refused to join the plot.

Of course, they could have done more than just say no and could have denounced the coup, which would have given even more credibility to the trial. Still, their role in this case was ultimately positive, and that may help explain why the coup didn’t succeed, and also why the military has not been the main focus of media coverage or public discussion.

Brazil’s Democracy Is Fragile—But Functioning

As school curricula, memorials, and policing doctrines institutionalize January 8, 2023, how do these “memory practices” shape collective political identities? Do they inoculate against authoritarian relapse, or entrench binary cleavages that revanchist actors can instrumentalize?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I think it’s still very soon to say how this particular event will be narrated in Brazilian history. That’s yet to be seen. But if you take, for instance, the 1964 military coup, the military, to this day, celebrate the date as the day of the revolution. They call it the revolution rather than the military coup. Bolsonaro himself has praised prominent members of the military dictatorship, such as Carlos Alberto Brilhante Ustra, who was notorious for leading torture and repression during this period.

The dominant view of 1964 today, however, is that it was a coup d’état that installed a violent dictatorship in this country, which ended, in fact, quite recently—1985, as you say. It’s not the only view, but it is the one that students, for instance, will learn about in school.

As I said, democracy in Brazil is still young, and one might say it remains quite fragile. I see Bolsonaro’s victory in 2018, despite his authoritarian rhetoric, as a sign of that fragility. The fact that he and his core conspirators felt emboldened enough to attempt a coup also shows how fragile democracy is. But I don’t see his conviction as a demonstration of this fragility. On the contrary, in this instance, I see it as a sign that democratic institutions are working despite that fragility.

I am, like many other social scientists and observers, concerned with the political cleavages in Brazil, but I don’t think this is unique to Brazil right now. The far right is on the rise globally, and one could ask, for instance, whether January 8 in Brazil would have happened if the Capitol invasion hadn’t occurred in the US, or if the real leaders of the Capitol invasion had been punished. One could also ask what would have happened if Trump had been the US president in 2023.

I think punishment in Brazil’s case does not, as you say, inoculate against authoritarian relapse, but it does send a message that it’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état, and that if you do so, you will face charges. That’s a good message for the country to be showing the world right now.

Tarcísio de Freitas Seeks to Inherit Bolsonaro’s Capital

São Paulo Governor Tarcísio de Freitas attends a pro-amnesty demonstration for former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, on March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo.

Building on your work on “entitled anger,” how is middle-class resentment mobilized around the trial—particularly in claims that the STF has usurped sovereignty and thwarted the popular will?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: My work on revanchist populism and entitled anger is about the rise of far-right populism globally, and particularly in the Global South. Revanchist populism is a term that I coined with my colleague Ryan Centner. And what we are doing with this is describing what we see as a turn in political imaginations towards the retaking of the nation in line with a powerful discourse of “the people” and righteousness. And we see this mapping onto populations who nostalgically sense they have lost what was rightfully, morally theirs, which might be regained by applying an angry sense of entitlement to an alternative and often authoritarian exercise of government.

In this context, the Brazilian middle class has been particularly described as resentful and an important support base for the far right. But I don’t think alone middle-class resentment can explain recent political cleavages in Brazil. Going back to your question more specifically, as I already mentioned, of course, the Supreme Court decision will be mobilized by the far right to fuel particular understandings of the current political situation in Brazil. There is a group of die-hard Bolsonaro supporters that will buy into any narrative that the far-right leaders produce. But I don’t think the future of Brazilian politics depends on this particular group, but more on the voters who are moderate and will swing their vote depending on a broader understanding of the situation.

It’s clear from his more recent speeches that the current São Paulo governor, Tarcísio de Freitas, is trying to position himself as the heir of Bolsonaro’s political capital and the natural candidate of the far right in the next presidential election. Some of Bolsonaro’s electorate will naturally transfer to whoever he decides to support, and that is significant, but not enough to win the next election. We have to remember that Bolsonaro himself lost the last election to Lula—by a small margin, of course—but he still lost. So, what I think is under dispute is the interpretation of current events by this broader population, who are not loyal to either Lula or Bolsonaro.

And it’s interesting that you touch on sovereignty, because it’s a very hot topic in Brazil at the moment—not because of the Supreme Court decision, but because of Trump’s attempt to interfere with the judicial process in Brazil. Lula’s popularity has recently increased slightly because he was gifted this position of defender of Brazil’s sovereignty in response to Eduardo Bolsonaro’s lobbying that led Trump to raise tariffs on Brazilian products to 50%. So, in this context, it’s difficult for the far right to play the sovereignty card while conspiring with Trump to penalize Brazil’s economy.

Urban Poor in Brazil’s Peripheries Hold the Swing Vote

What spatial patterns (capitals vs. peripheries; South/Southeast vs. North/Northeast) do you observe in post-verdict mobilizations, and how do they map onto Brazil’s longer histories of regional inequality and uneven development?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I don’t have the data to comment specifically on the geography of how people are reacting to the trial, but if we look at Bolsonaro’s 2018 election, when he was victorious, we can find some evidence of the geographies of far-right voters and supporters in Brazil. The work of Matthew Richmond and Lisa McKenna, colleagues of mine, examined the geography of the votes in 2018.

The interesting thing here is that, unlike in the US, or in the case of the UK and Brexit, the geography of the vote in Brazil is not the traditional urban versus rural pattern. What their work pointed out is that the votes of the urban poor have been decisive in the last elections in Brazil. In particular, the votes of the urban poor in the peripheries of big cities have been swinging between the left and the right throughout the years. The explanation for this has to do with major changes in Brazilian society—from the growth of evangelical church influence to enduring criminality, which affects the urban poor more prominently, for instance.

In my own work, I have focused on changes in the global labor market and how they also play a role in the new political landscape that breeds the far right. Again, if you think of the case of the US and the UK, you see deindustrialization and the loss of stable jobs alongside austerity and neoliberalism, which have impoverished particular groups. Immigration, in these cases, has then been used as the far-right scapegoat to channel this entitled anger into votes.

In the case of Brazil, we have historically had a very stratified labor market with widespread precarity, and this has also grown as a consequence of neoliberalism and deindustrialization. But the traditional left in Brazil grew out of industrial trade unionism, and now there is this huge population of workers outside formal wage relations who don’t feel represented by these traditional left-wing narratives. So, when you think about geography, these spatial inequalities interact with wider social and economic dynamics, and my point is that if progressive politics doesn’t find ways to speak to this new workforce, far-right narratives offering simple solutions to complex problems can fill this gap.

With Bolsonaro confined to house arrest and restricted from social media, how has the street/platform nexus of contention shifted—especially regarding plazas, evangelical pulpits, WhatsApp/Telegram ecosystems, and diaspora mobilization in the US?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: All the arenas you mentioned have long been part of the political landscape in Brazil, and the far right has been very effective at capitalizing on social media, perhaps because their extreme language and rhetoric are well suited to generating engagement—the very thing that drives these platforms. I don’t see this scenario changing with Bolsonaro’s arrest. The main question at the moment, as I already said, is who will inherit Bolsonaro’s political capital and represent this far-right group in the next election.

The Left Must Speak to Precarious Workers or Risk Losing Them to the Far Right

Brazilia’s Luiz Inácio Lula is seen during the 2022 election campaign in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on October 20, 2022. Photo: Aline Alcantara.

How does the trial intersect with the politics of informal work and the gig economy? Are precarious workers—street vendors, delivery app couriers—recalibrating their partisan attachments in light of the conviction, or holding steady?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: Again, I think it’s very soon to say how particular groups of workers are reacting to the trial. We don’t have the data. But as I already mentioned, this mass of precarious workers that characterizes Brazil’s economy plays a key role in current affairs. Of course, they are more than workers, and they have other affiliations that might also impact their political behavior, but the point that I have been trying to make in my own work is that this group feels underrepresented in political debates.

The left tends to view informality solely as an issue of precarity and exploitation, and its responses to the growing changes in the experience of work have been inadequate. In my research, I focus on street vendors who have been criminalized by local governments and feel attacked by exclusionary policies that constrain their ability to work on the streets and earn a livelihood. The left’s response has been to insist on wage work and development as solutions that will eventually incorporate everyone into the regular labor market, but workers are not necessarily on board with that. People’s desires for autonomy and flexibility are often interpreted negatively, in this context, as signs that these workers have been indoctrinated by neoliberalism.

What we need to understand is that for a huge proportion of people in Brazil, wage work was historically either unattainable or represented a precarious inclusion through low-paying jobs, where people had to endure excessive hours and, more often than not, harassment and humiliation. For many, the far-right promise of disruption feels like a real hope for change. Globally, the far right has succeeded in large part because it taps into real suffering and mobilizes genuine frustration by offering the hope of disruption.

Moreover, in some ways, the left has become a conservative political force, protecting abstract values that do not necessarily resonate with people’s everyday struggles. The new realities of the labor market and of society at large demand bolder thinking and out-of-the-box policies that can address the challenges of people’s lived realities. For instance, Zohran Mamdani’s political platform for the New York City mayoral election is a good representation of what I’m talking about. In Belo Horizonte, Brazil, where I do most of my research, there is a bill up for a vote to implement free bus fare, which is also very interesting. So, there are some promising developments, and there is a progressive way out of this tough political landscape that we are living through.

Brazil’s 2026 Race Has Already Begun

Within Bolsonaro’s coalition, how are key pillars—evangelical leaders, police unions, agribusiness lobbies, military clubs—reframing their narratives after the verdict? What does this suggest about the durability or the recomposition of his revanchist base?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: It’s an interesting question. One day after Bolsonaro’s conviction, the Folha de São Paulo, one of Brazil’s most important newspapers, ran a headline on the twin deficit in Brazil and the dangers of Lula’s third mandate for the economy. What happened, essentially, is that Bolsonaro had become an issue, and his conviction was applauded by the major media because they wanted him out of the presidential race. But the big players you mentioned also don’t want a fourth Lula mandate.

In the lead-up to the 2022 election, there was an attempt by the major media to create the idea of a third way. Some had hoped, for instance, that João Doria, the former governor of São Paulo, or even Luciano Huck, a famous TV presenter in Brazil, would be presidential candidates to represent this third way and overcome Brazil’s polarization. But that didn’t happen, and I do not see it happening in 2026 either.

What I think will happen is a repositioning of political support. Tarcísio de Freitas, the current governor of São Paulo, seems to be the natural choice to replace Bolsonaro as Lula’s main opposition in this polarized economic and political landscape. But he will face a very difficult task in his campaign: essentially paying homage to Bolsonaro and capitalizing on his support, while at the same time trying to present himself as a more moderate and market-friendly politician. It will be a hard act for him to pull off.

How successful he is will also depend on what happens in Brazil between now and the election. There is already a sense that the presidential race has begun, and PT, Lula’s party, is currently treating Tarcísio as the main opposition.

Fux’s Vote Echoed the US Pattern of Punishing Followers but Acquitting Leaders

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

Do you observe unequal “graduations” of culpability—between January 8 “foot soldiers” and political principals—that echo Brazil’s broader selective enforcement of law (e.g., in housing or labor), thereby reinforcing perceptions of institutional bias?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I don’t think so. I keep going back to the US, but I think it’s a useful parallel. That happened in the US: as you say, the foot soldiers of the Capitol invasion went to jail, while Trump not only remained free but was also allowed to run for president and become president again. If there is any echo of that in Brazil, it’s in Fux’s vote. As I said in the beginning, he voted for culpability for the January invaders but acquitted Bolsonaro, so his vote reflects a bit of that. But the Supreme Court decision has been coherent in the sense of condemning both the foot soldiers and what they perceive to be the leaders of this movement.

Lastly, Bolsonaro’s defenses—claims of witch-hunts, persecution, procedural overload—resonate with Trumpist repertoires. Where do Brazilian specificities (evangelical media ecosystems, military memory, police syndicates) create distinct discursive frames?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: In terms of the rhetoric, Bolsonaro’s entire act is very much aligned with Trump’s, so I don’t see much difference there. But of course, the content and the way he speaks to his political base are, as you say, shaped by Brazilian specificities, particularly the conservatism of his supporters. The differences between Brazil and the US have more to do with the essentially different composition of the two societies—social, economic, cultural, and, as we already discussed, geographical—and how Brazil differs from the US.

In terms of discursive frames, however, there is a kind of right-wing rhetoric that is common to different political leaders within this spectrum, modulated to speak to particular groups of supporters shaped by their culture and, in the case of Brazil, by religious positions within society.