US President Donald Trump delivers a speech to voters at an event in Phoenix, Arizona. Photo: Danny Raustadt.

Dr. Benson on Trump’s Assault: To Resist a Coordinated Attack, We Need a Coordinated Defense

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

On the 100th day of Trump’s second term, ECPS sat down with Dr. Robert Benson of the Center for American Progress to dissect the anatomy of democratic backsliding. In this wide-ranging interview, Dr. Benson warns of a “coordinated assault” on American civil society and urges a “coordinated defense” in response. Drawing comparisons with Turkey and Hungary, he highlights the early stages of authoritarian consolidation and calls for a “whole-of-society” mobilization. “We’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever moved in Turkey,” he cautions. From institutional capture to international instability, Dr. Benson’s insights are a timely wake-up call. “Authoritarians have coordinated,” he says—“now it’s time for democrats to do the same.” 

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Marking the 100th day of Donald Trump’s second administration, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) sat down with Dr. Robert Benson, Associate Director for National Security and International Policy at the Center for American Progress (CAP), to discuss one of the most urgent questions of our time: how democracies can defend themselves against coordinated authoritarian assaults. Drawing on comparative insights from Hungary, Turkey, and the United States, Dr. Benson offers a sobering but clarifying analysis of democratic backsliding and populist autocratization.

“This is truly a critical question,” Dr. Benson begins. “We must understand the timeline and scope of democratic backsliding.” While emphasizing the uniqueness of national contexts, he identifies recurring “red flags,” notably the failure of institutions and elites to respond decisively during what he calls the “early window”—the critical phase before authoritarians consolidate power. In the US case, Dr. Benson critiques what he calls a “politics of respectability” within the Democratic Party—an adherence to procedural norms long after the opposing party has abandoned them.

In an increasingly polarized and factionalized America, Dr. Benson warns of the systematic targeting of democratic institutions across civil society. Citing the German term Gleichschaltung—the 1930s strategy of coordinated authoritarian control—he stresses the need for a similarly coordinated democratic defense. “You target them all at once, and they fold,” he says of authoritarian strategy. “So how do we respond effectively? We need to build alliances… Business, universities, media—need to begin communicating with one another.”

Perhaps most striking is Dr. Benson’s comparison between institutional capture in Turkey and current trends in the US, where he argues the pace of democratic erosion is even faster. “We’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever moved in Turkey,” he warns. His call to action is clear: without “whole-of-society” mobilization that extends beyond coastal elites and engages Middle America, resistance risks fragmentation.

Dr. Benson does not limit his concern to domestic threats. He sees Trump’s foreign policy and suspension of military aid to Ukraine as emblematic of a broader unraveling of the post-1945 liberal order. “This is a complete victory for Vladimir Putin,” he states bluntly. From global alliances to civil liberties at home, the consequences are profound.

Yet amid the gravity of his analysis, Dr. Benson also sees opportunity—particularly in building transnational democratic networks. “Authoritarians have done a better job at coordinating,” he admits. “But that can change—if democratic actors start sharing tactics, intelligence, and, most importantly, a common purpose.”

The interview with Dr. Benson is a call to strategic clarity—and a coordinated democratic defense.

Dr. Robert Benson, Associate Director for National Security and International Policy at the Center for American Progress (CAP).

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Robert Benson.

Democracies Don’t Fall All at Once—They Fold, Institution by Institution, Unless We Resist in Time

Dr. Benson, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: To what extent do you see parallels between the initial public hesitation to resist Trump’s authoritarian tendencies in the US and the delayed resistance movements in Hungary, Turkey, and Serbia that you describe? How crucial is the timing of resistance in preventing democratic collapse?

Dr. Robert Benson: This is truly a critical question—understanding the timeline and scope of democratic backsliding. It’s important to acknowledge from the outset that the United States, Turkey, and Hungary are each unique cases. There isn’t a simple one-to-one comparison to be made between these systems, given their distinct political cultures, histories, and institutional frameworks. That said, there are certain common denominators—what I would call red flags—regarding how opposition forces respond during moments of constitutional peril. One recurring pattern is an initial hesitancy among those in positions of authority—within institutions—to take the threat seriously.

Let me begin with an American example. There has long been a belief—though I think that belief is starting to shift—that the Democratic Party, as the party of opposition, must adhere to a politics of respectability. That is, “we are not them,” and therefore we will stick to the rules of the game. This approach involves granting the ruling party the benefit of the doubt, even when it repeatedly disregards constitutional norms and even codified laws. This politics of respectability stems from a fundamental belief among many party members that they are still dealing with the Republican Party of 2012—or perhaps even 1995—not with a party that has been overtaken by a revolutionary political movement intent on dismantling the constitutional order. Because once you acknowledge the latter, your behavior must change. You don’t, for example—as the minority leader in the US Senate recently did—vote in favor of a Republican continuing resolution. In other words, you push back.

So why is it that we haven’t necessarily seen that kind of pushback? It stems from a moment of paralysis that often defines the early stages of democratic backsliding—when holding the governing party accountable can seem almost anti-democratic. There’s a reluctance to challenge those in power, a kind of political honeymoon period. But ironically, it’s during that very window that much of the most serious damage is done.

You emphasize the critical “early window” before authoritarians consolidate power. In the current U.S. context under Trump’s second administration, what institutional moves should civil society and opposition forces prioritize to prevent irreversible democratic backsliding? Based on recent U.S. protests, do you believe America is still within the “window of action”—or has it already started slipping into the harder phase of institutional capture?

Dr. Robert Benson: This is really a foundational question. There has to be an element of coordination when dealing with a coordinated attack on democratic institutions. The Germans have a word from the 1930s—originating from the era of state capture by the NSDAP—Gleichschaltung. It means coordination: getting business interests, civil society, universities to toe the government line and to yield to authority—all at once. You target them simultaneously, and they fold.

Now, I’m not making a direct comparison to the 1930s. I’m invoking the term more for what it offers in terms of definition. What we’re seeing today is a coordinated assault by the administration on all facets of American civil society—our universities, our civil service, the media, business interests—all happening at once. That’s intentional.

So how do we respond effectively? We need to build alliances. These individual, often atomized, components of our civil society—business, universities, media—need to begin communicating with one another. There must be an understanding that we need a broad democratic or republican front against this administration.

That’s why it’s so important, for example, for a university like Harvard, with a robust endowment, to stand firm and not capitulate to the administration’s demands. It creates a permission structure for others—whether in the media or private sector—to follow suit. That brings us to what I think is a fundamental law of democratic backsliding. And this idea isn’t mine—it comes from Tim Snyder, in his Twenty Lessons on Tyranny. His first lesson: Do not obey in advance.

Don’t give them what they want without even a fight. That’s exactly what was happening in the US at the beginning—with law firms like Skadden, for instance, capitulating before even receiving a list of demands. Or Columbia University, where the dominoes were falling quickly. The administration settled cases with ABC after the George Stephanopoulos interview, and there was another with CBS after an interview with Kamala Harris that Trump didn’t like.

But now we’re beginning to see a shift. There’s growing resistance to this impulse to obey in advance—and that is, I think, a reassuring sign.

We Only Have Ourselves: Resistance Must Come from Middle America

You noted the critical importance of institutional pushback. Given that some US institutions themselves — like parts of the judiciary or state legislatures — are increasingly aligned with authoritarian currents, how can civil society realistically force institutional resistance when traditional checks and balances are already compromised?

Dr. Robert Benson: The European Union and the United States are obviously two very different systems with two very different capacities for democratic resilience. The European Union has vastly different tools at its disposal compared to the United States.

Take, for example, Article 7 and the withholding of funds. In the Hungarian case, this has been a potent political cudgel that the EU can use to compel rule-of-law behavior. In the US, by contrast, there is no supranational authority that can hold this administration — or even the American courts — accountable for how they comport themselves. We only really have ourselves.

And by the time we reach the point of institutional capture, a lot of damage has already been done. Trump had four years in which to pack the judiciary. And he did — in a manner very reminiscent of what PiS, the Law and Justice party, did in Poland. And when I say similar, I mean strikingly similar. Withholding Merrick Garland’s nomination for 293 days and then ramming through his own nominee, using every tool at the majority’s disposal to pack not just the Supreme Court but also the lower courts.

As a result, about a third of the American judiciary now consists of Trump appointees. That’s a staggering figure — and, depending on your perspective, one of the great “successes” of his administration.

So, lacking any kind of supranational oversight like the EU, the US is left with its domestic institutions — and the most important ones, like the courts, have already been compromised.

Then you move to the legislature, to Congress. This is where it gets even trickier. The US political system has an internal mechanism that enforces party discipline — the primary system. Republicans are afraid to stand up to MAGAism because they face acute primary challenges from the right.

And here’s the really difficult part about democratic backsliding and autocratization: sometimes, especially in the initial phase, it can be popular. Trump won the popular vote. He won all seven swing states. He has a tight grip on one of our two major political parties. Until that grip is broken — and I mean broken from the bottom up, not by pressure from Washington, D.C., or New York or Los Angeles, but from places like Ohio and Middle America — we’re not going to see Congress behaving differently. Because doing so won’t be in their political interest.

In your analysis of European and Turkish cases, mass mobilization alone was often insufficient without elite defections. In today’s US context, do you see any meaningful elite-level breakaways that could help halt Trump’s authoritarian drift — or is elite resistance still too fragmented? What specific lessons can American opposition leaders learn from these cases to build more effective alliances against creeping authoritarianism?

Dr. Robert Benson: Turkey is a fascinating case — and a complex one. You have the AKP effectively in power for over 20 years, with a steady and systematic capture of institutions. As I mentioned in the op-ed, this culminated in the arrest of the mayor of Istanbul, arguably Erdogan’s most formidable challenger in a potential presidential election. Let’s not forget that Erdogan succeeded in changing the Turkish constitution to further consolidate power, shifting the system toward a fully presidential model.

What’s remarkable — and alarming — is that when comparing the Turkish and American cases directly, we’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever did in Turkey. That’s startling, but it’s true. And if you consider the damage done in Turkey over that timeline and extrapolate the same arc onto the US, factoring in the potential for at least three and a half more years of Trump — and possibly more, if constitutional meddling occurs, which is not unthinkable given the Republican Party’s trajectory — then the damage here could be decisive. Decisive in the sense of being existential for the Republic.

To return more directly to your question: Why is it that some cases of mass mobilization succeed while others don’t? Mass mobilization has to have a clear, unified aim. Take the Slovak case in 2018, following the assassination of a prominent investigative journalist. That led to a whole-of-society mobilization. And I emphasize that term — whole-of-society. That means unity between labor movements, students, public intellectuals, and crucially, ordinary people who may not identify as political at all. Historically, dissent tends to be concentrated in elite or intellectual circles — in Turkey, for instance, in large cities along the Mediterranean coast or like Istanbul or Izmir.

But if resistance remains confined to these enclaves, it remains too narrow to shift national trajectories. You have to expand the aperture. In the US, this means the opposition to Trump cannot be concentrated just on the coasts, nor can it come solely from universities or the educated elite. It has to emerge from Middle America. That’s when real political challenges begin to register.

The Romanian case against attempts to weaken anti-corruption laws is another example. Protests weren’t limited to Bucharest — they were widespread across cities like Timișoara and Cluj. That geographic spread was essential in forcing parliamentary actors to defect, to break with the government’s agenda and block the legislation. That’s the kind of pressure that needs to be replicated in the American case — to force elite-level defections. In this context, defecting means breaking with President Trump and his agenda. 

Cultural and Economic Dislocation Is the Authoritarians’ Playground

Nigel Farage speaking in Dover, Kent, UK, on May 28, 2024, in support of the Reform Party, of which he is President. Photo: Sean Aidan Calderbank.

You describe how conspiracy theories and economic neglect fueled authoritarianism in both the US and Europe. Beyond restoring institutional trust, what societal interventions — if any — do you believe are most critical to reversing the cultural dislocation exploited by the new authoritarians?

Dr. Robert Benson: The question of the genesis of these political movements — how they came to be — is still being debated in the social sciences. This is very much a live debate. By and large, you can summarize the competing perspectives along two poles: culture and economy. I think it’s probably a bit of both.

What do I mean by culture and economy? On the economic side, it’s the classic tale of globalization gone wrong. You have a globalized economy from the late 1990s into the 2000s that resulted in a hollowing out of the middle class across industrial societies — principally in the United States. Think of the American Rust Belt: the industrial heartland losing manufacturing jobs. But also look at Europe. Take the United Kingdom, particularly the North and Northeast.

If you continue to follow the economic thesis, it suggests people experienced a depreciating standard of living. They felt left behind by a political establishment that was inattentive to their concerns — and they began voting for the extremes. Then came the hucksters and charlatans — the Nigel Farages, the Brexiteers, or in the American case, Trump — who said, “I understand your pain. I get it. You’ve been screwed over by a political elite that doesn’t understand how hard it is to get by day to day.”

Then comes the pitch: setting Middle America — or the working-class communities of the Red Wall in the UK — against the elites in London or the elites in Washington and New York. And this is where the cultural element comes in. It’s not only that you’ve been economically neglected and cast aside by this mad embrace of globalization, whatever that means — but on top of that, you’ve been alienated culturally.

There are no cinemas in your town. No one tours there. There are no concerts, no communal activities. No opportunities for you to engage in public debate. You’re isolated. You’re economically disadvantaged. And you don’t share in — not just the national wealth — but the cultural wealth that society produces. And that makes people really mad.

So, it’s the combination of economic and cultural dislocation. The opportunity structures that exist within these two pillars gave us populism as a political phenomenon. But more specifically, authoritarian populism. Because populism on its own isn’t enough. It has to become authoritarian — in the sense that there’s only one solution: our solution. Democracy itself, they argue, has failed us. Therefore, we must look beyond democratic remedies.

The Hegemon Has Withdrawn—Now Comes the Disorder

You argue that Trump’s America First policy has undermined global stability and encouraged aggression. How much damage to the international liberal order is now irreversible, and where should democratic states prioritize defense and rebuilding efforts?

Dr. Robert Benson: If we’re moving from a domestic analysis—looking internally at our societies and what gave rise to authoritarian populism—to the international level, we see that authoritarian populism is highly destructive. It’s destructive because it fundamentally does not believe in cooperation.

The international order that the United States principally helped establish after 1945 was built on cooperation. Some would argue that this order was defined by American hegemony. But that hegemony, for all its flaws, created the conditions for global cooperation.

So, what happens when the hegemon withdraws? That is precisely what’s occurring now. The US is retreating from the international domain. We’re witnessing a descent into multipolarity—and potentially into regional or factional rivalries. This is dangerous for a number of reasons. It introduces a profound element of uncertainty.

In this new world of geopolitical competition, what is to stop an autocrat like Vladimir Putin from not only invading Ukraine but also extending aggression toward the Baltic States? What is to stop Xi Jinping in China from pursuing territorial ambitions in Taiwan?

More to the point—if we consider the realm of political economy—what is to stop nations from retreating entirely into protectionism and national isolationism, shielding their domestic industries to the detriment of their peers and neighbors?

Some might even attempt to annex foreign resources, as we’ve seen hints of US policies toward Ukraine’s critical minerals—or potentially even ambitions involving Canada or Greenland. This marks a retreat from the rules-based international order the US helped to forge after World War II, while simultaneously becoming the principal antagonist to that very order.

How has Donald Trump’s suspension of military aid to Ukraine reshaped not only the war’s dynamics but also the global perception of America’s commitment to democracy and international alliances? Can this policy shift be seen as a strategic victory for authoritarian regimes like Russia’s?

Dr. Robert Benson: Well, we can begin with the latter part of the question. I mean, certainly this is a victory for Russia. It’s a complete victory for Vladimir Putin—he could not have wished for a better outcome. From the beginning, Putin claimed that he didn’t have to win in Ukraine; he just had to wait out the Americans and the West, who he believed would grow tired and fickle in their commitment. And that’s exactly what has happened.

There’s a prevailing attitude among segments of the American public that Ukraine is a boondoggle. Take, for example, the hurricane that hit Asheville, North Carolina, last year and caused extensive damage to an economically deprived region. Trump and his allies on Fox News were able to exploit that moment by drawing a stark comparison: all this money—$60 billion in supplemental aid—is going to Ukraine, while Americans at home receive next to nothing. FEMA famously issued a check for about $750, and the narrative quickly became: $750 for you, even though you lost your home, but $60 billion for Ukraine. Now, that’s a misleading comparison—$750 was just an initial payout—but the narrative stuck. And it was highly effective. This is where Trumpism and MAGAism connect the domestic with the international. But what does this mean for the American-led alliance? At best, it means that alliance is destabilized. At worst, it means it has failed—that it’s over.

The new German Chancellor, Friedrich Merz, on election night, said that Europe has to begin preparing for independence from the United States. He actually said this. The Americans have managed to turn the Germans into the French when it comes to strategic autonomy. That’s truly remarkable. There isn’t a more staunchly Atlanticist political culture than Berlin’s, yet there’s now a growing realization in Europe that the United States cannot be counted on.

Even if the Americans come back in 2028 with a new Democratic president and say, “We’re back,” who’s going to believe them? US politics have become so polarized and unpredictable—veering from one extreme to the other—that even that kind of return won’t restore trust.

Frankly, I’m skeptical that a Democrat will win the White House in 2028. The long-term trends point toward a consolidation of MAGA-style Republicanism. So, what do our European partners do in the meantime? They need to prepare for a post–Pax Americana—a world where the United States is no longer the hegemon, where its network of alliances no longer provides a reliable security guarantee. And they need to do this as quickly as possible.

The Far Right Coordinates Better Than Progressives—But Cracks Are Emerging

Giorgia Meloni, leader of Brothers of Italy, Silvio Berlusconi, leader of Forza Italia and Matteo Salvini, leader of the League, attend a center-right coalition rally in Rome, Italy on March 01, 2018. Photo: Alessia Pierdomenico.

How do you see the growing alliance between the American and European far right — as highlighted at events like CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) — accelerating global disorder? How significant is this transatlantic connection for democratic resilience in both Europe and the United States, and how seriously should mainstream democratic actors take this emerging cross-border coordination? What counterstrategies do you recommend to disrupt this movement before it becomes too entrenched, and is there still a realistic path to reverse its momentum?

Dr. Robert Benson: There’s something ironic—almost bizarre—about the fact that hyper-nationalists and authoritarian nationalists are, in many ways, more effectively internationalizing their political movements than progressives. Intuitively, one would assume that it’s in the DNA of liberal and progressive political parties to coordinate across borders more easily than nationalists, whose worldview is, by definition, insular. But the opposite has happened. The far right—and the authoritarians—have done a much better job at coordinating. This has serious implications. They are learning from one another. There’s a phenomenon called “autocratic learning,” where figures like Viktor Orbán realize that if they replace civil servants with party loyalists, they can more effectively control the machinery of government. Donald Trump observes this, communicates with Fidesz advisors, partners with the Heritage Foundation, and suddenly we see efforts to purge the civil service in Washington, D.C.

This is incredibly concerning—not only are they learning from one another in the abstract, but they are actively communicating, including at venues like CPAC. That said, I would qualify this by noting something interesting is happening. Because nationalists are inherently insular, there is always the risk of rupture in their alliances. And I think we may now be witnessing such a rupture. Look, for example, at how Marine Le Pen has responded to trade war rhetoric—she’s taken a very anti-American, or at least anti-American-administration, stance. AfD leaders like Alice Weidel have openly stated that German national interests are antithetical to those of the United States. So, embedded in these movements is a core belief in national self-interest that makes sustained international coordination inherently fragile. It’s only a matter of time before these tensions come to the fore.

Interestingly, what we’re now seeing—contrary to my earlier expectations—is that Trump may actually be catalyzing division within the European far right. These actors are distancing themselves, saying, “We didn’t sign up for this. We’re not in favor of the trade war. We don’t want to hurt rural workers in France or Germany.” This distancing is notable and worth watching. So, there’s nuance here. While the transatlantic authoritarian alliance is real and dangerous, it may not be as stable or unified as it initially appeared.

You describe the far right’s globalization as a new, coordinated movement. In practical terms, do you see any emerging counter-globalization among pro-democracy forces, or is the liberal democratic camp still acting mostly in isolated national silos?

Dr. Robert Benson: I think this follows nicely from the conversation we were just having. Yes, I do think the far right—and the authoritarian right—has done a better job of coordinating in recent years. There are, as I’ve discussed, vulnerabilities to that coordination.

So how do progressive, pro-democracy forces respond? They respond, first and foremost, by talking to each other. The Democratic Party in the United States has to be in contact not only with the Liberal Party in the United Kingdom and the Social Democrats in Germany—in terms of their common ideological alignment—but, quite frankly, with all parties that believe in the rule of law and democracy.

In particular, I think it would behoove the Americans to start talking to parties that have actually experienced societal democratic backsliding. Talk to the CHP in Turkey. Talk to the Serbian opposition. Talk to Elly Schlein’s PD in Italy, which is contending with Meloni. It’s important that we move beyond viewing the world strictly through the lens of left-to-left or right-to-right dialogues. Instead, we should begin thinking in terms of: who believes in democracy and preserving constitutional order—and who doesn’t? That’s the fundamental question of our time. And then we need to coordinate accordingly with those who share democratic commitments, sharing information, tactics, and messaging on how to effectively push back against incumbent authoritarian threats within our own societies.

Don’t Just Defend Democracy—Explain Why It Matters to Daily Life

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

Drawing from the examples of Turkey and Hungary that you cited, once authoritarian populists consolidate institutions, reversal becomes nearly impossible. What lessons should US opposition parties urgently learn from these cases to avoid repeating the same mistakes?

Dr. Robert Benson: There seems to be an emerging consensus that talking about democracy alone is probably insufficient. A colleague once told me, “I can’t eat the rule of law. It doesn’t put food on my table. It doesn’t pay for my prescription drugs.” And it may potentially ring hollow when a hyper-educated and cultural elite from Washington, D.C., or any of these national capitals, talks about the rule of law—about democracy—as these kind of abstract concepts that you can’t really concretize.

Maybe we have to do the important intellectual work of connecting these concepts—these abstract notions—to real-world things. What I mean by that is: it’s not just that losing the rule of law is dangerous in itself (which it is), but that it creates permission structures for corruption. Your quality of life is materially worse off when you cannot rely on the state to do what it’s supposed to do—and to do so honorably. So talk about that. Talk about how democratic backsliding undermines public healthcare—how it renders it ineffective—or how it takes away from public education, how it creates different strata of access based on who has connections, based on who can pay and who cannot.

Make it very clear that it’s not just a defense of these concepts in themselves that warrants our attention, but how these concepts intersect and feed into our lived experiences as citizens—of a collective, of a community. Because if we can do that—and do it successfully—we bring so many more people into our camp. So it is a challenge for those who believe in the rule of law, who believe in democracy, not simply to stop there, but to take it one extra step—and just tell us why it matters: to my life, and to the life of my children and my family. Because I think that is the only way we create a robust, whole-of-society resistance.

And lastly, Dr. Benson, reflecting on your comparison of today’s political climate with the pre-WWII appeasement of Nazi Germany, what lessons should US and European leaders draw right now to avoid repeating historical failures, especially when facing coordinated disinformation and populist-authoritarian challenges?

Dr. Robert Benson: History doesn’t repeat itself.  I mean, the famous line is that history repeats itself, but actually, it more accurately rhymes. I don’t think we’re living through some kind of redux of the 1930s. Having said that, that doesn’t mean there aren’t lessons we can derive from the breakup of Czechoslovakia. Kaja Kallas-EU High Representative-famously said that this is 1938 and that we need to act accordingly. I’m not so sure it’s 1938—that would imply the response would have to be complete victory over Russia, the seizing of Moscow. I mean, that’s not where we are. Let’s be honest about where we are. We have echoes of the 1930s in our politics. So I think that means we have to take seriously threats both domestically to our democracies, but also to an international order that is under pressure.

The more appropriate comparison in my mind than the 1930s would actually most likely be the pre-World War I period, where you had incredible inequalities within societies and also between states. You had, for the first time, a truly globalized economy that had undergone an economic shock. And then you had the seemingly unstoppable spiral toward catastrophe—towards a global war. I think these dynamics are the ones that most concern me, and these are the dynamics I think were prevalent in the early 20th century, in the lead-up to the First World War. So I’m not so sure about the utility of making the 1930s comparison per se. But I do think, insofar as it serves as a wake-up call, it’s important for us to realize there’s work to be done.

Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa addresses supporters of his ADN party. Photo: Miles Astray.

Dr. Mazzolini: Noboa Turns to Populism Not to Transform Ecuador, But to Survive

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In an interview with ECPS, Dr. Samuele Mazzolini argues that Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa has embraced populism not as a vehicle for transformation, but as a strategy to maintain power amid crisis. Recently re-elected after a snap presidency, Noboa has relied on emergency decrees, militarized crackdowns, and anti-crime rhetoric. “Populism has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image,” Dr. Mazzolini asserts. Despite branding himself as a technocrat, Noboa “lacks a coherent national project” and governs through “sheer improvisation.” Dr. Mazzolini warns that Ecuador is entering a “permanent state of exception,” with rising authoritarian tendencies and no clear roadmap for reform.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a sharply observed conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Samuele Mazzolini—Adjunct Professor of Political Science at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice—offers a sobering analysis of Ecuador’s evolving political landscape under President Daniel Noboa. Recently re-elected in the April 2025 run-off, Noboa secured a full four-year term after what he called a “historic” victory. He originally came to power in November 2023 through a snap election and has since defined his presidency by launching a militarized crackdown on Ecuador’s powerful criminal gangs—an approach that has dominated his public image as the country became the most violent in the region.

Despite his win, Noboa’s left-wing challenger, Luisa González, rejected the result, alleging fraud without providing evidence. Against this backdrop of tension and insecurity, Mazzolini argues that Noboa’s political style is not grounded in reform, but in survival. “In Noboa’s case, [populism] has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image,” he asserts.

Though Noboa projected a moderate and technocratic profile during his initial campaign, his presidency has taken a decisive right-wing populist turn. “He wasn’t the ‘security candidate.’ That was Jan Topić… But the very moment he took office, he took a different turn,” Dr. Mazzolini notes. Noboa’s embrace of penal populism—relying on military force and emergency powers—has so far failed to reduce violence. “Despite tough talk on crime and gangs, the rates haven’t improved,” Dr. Mazzolini observes.

Crucially, Dr. Mazzolini emphasizes the absence of a coherent political vision. “What are his views on industrial relations? Agricultural policy? Same-sex marriage?” he asks. “There are countless areas where he appears to have no defined position.” Unlike Rafael Correa, whose government—though polarizing—pursued a structured national project, Noboa seems adrift, leaning on improvised alliances and securitarian rhetoric.

As Dr. Mazzolini concludes, Noboa’s presidency appears less like a populist transition toward transformation, and more like the entrenchment of a permanent state of exception: “a deliberate effort to take advantage of the situation… because he saw the opportunity was ripe to consolidate his image.”

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini —Adjunct Professor of Political Science at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Samuele Mazzolini.

Securitarian Populism, Not Technocratic Reform

Professor Mazzolini, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How should Daniel Noboa’s recent electoral victory be interpreted within the broader trajectory of populism in Ecuador? Does it signify a new phase in the evolution of populist politics in the country, or a rearticulation of existing populist paradigms under a technocratic-securitarian guise?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: There has certainly been a shift toward a kind of penal populism—one that places heavy emphasis on delivering security, increasing national safety, and attempting to curb the unchecked expansion of criminal gangs in Ecuador. So yes, it is clearly a rearticulation of populism under a securitarian guise. 

However, I wouldn’t say there’s much technocracy at play. If you look at Noboa’s first year and a half in office, it’s been marked by sheer incompetence, indolence, and a general lack of professionalism. There hasn’t been much evidence of technocratic governance—despite the polished image he projects. 

Daniel Noboa is a young figure, fluent in English, US-educated, and he carries himself well. But if you examine his actual decisions and decrees over the past 18 months, they leave a lot to be desired. So, again, I don’t see technocracy; I see a strong security discourse that, in practice, hasn’t delivered. If you look at the numbers, despite tough talk on crime and gangs, the rates haven’t improved. Ecuador remains a very unsafe place, and the population continues to live under the grip of organized crime.

Do you see Noboa’s re-election and hardline tactics as signaling a right-wing variant of the populist-institutional tensions you identified in Rafael Correa’s government?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Certainly. When populist politics is prolonged, it becomes increasingly difficult to construct a stable institutional framework. To put it plainly: unless you succeed in redefining the identity of your adversaries, establishing durable institutions becomes a serious challenge. This requires a transition from a polarizing strategy to one that reintegrates opponents into the emerging order. It’s essential to ensure that the system you build does not unravel or get overturned the moment you leave power.

In that sense, yes, a parallel with Correa can be drawn. Under Correa, there were clear tensions between populist rhetoric and the broader project of institution-building. However, I see two key differences. First, Noboa has been in power for a very short time—just about a year and a half—which is hardly sufficient, even for a populist, to fully articulate a political vision or begin the process of reintegrating adversaries.

Second, and more importantly, Noboa doesn’t appear to have a project for the country. His governance so far seems driven by sheer improvisation. When he was first elected in 2023, I don’t think he expected to win. My impression is that he aimed to perform well to position himself for future elections, but unexpectedly found himself president.

Historically, the Ecuadorian right has lacked a solid, coherent project for the country—aside from capturing the state and bending it to create a more favorable environment for business. In that sense, I doubt he has any clear long-term vision. Let’s see how his plan for a Constituent Assembly develops. He apparently wants to change the current constitutional framework—reversing the progressive constitution drafted under Correa in the early 2000s, which emphasized rights, state planning, and redistribution.

Many fear that his goal is to do away with these provisions and instead draft a new constitution that minimizes rights and reduces the state’s role in planning and redistribution. The intention seems to be to create a more business-friendly climate for both foreign and domestic investors. In short, it looks like a push to take the country back to the neoliberal era.

Noboa’s Populist Signature: Militarization Without Accountability

A soldier peers out from a tank outside a campaign event for Ecuador’s President Daniel Noboa. Photo: Miles Astray.

How does President Noboa’s militarized crackdown on crime reflect elements of penal populism, and in what ways does it diverge from traditional Latin American law-and-order populism?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: A major difference lies in the involvement of the armed forces. If you recall, from the very beginning of his mandate, he declared a state of conflict—he said there was a war going on with criminal gangs—and brought in the armed forces to collaborate with the police in the fight against organized crime. That’s something new. However, it should be noted that the armed forces are not properly trained for patrolling the streets; their training is very different. So I’m not sure how effective they are in that context, and so far, the statistics do not seem to suggest they’ve been particularly useful.

Another major concern is the blatant disregard for human rights and international law. Take, for instance, the case of the four boys from Las Malvinas, a neighborhood in Guayaquil, who were kidnapped, tortured, and brutally killed by the armed forces. And that is just one example—it reflects a broader climate of impunity for the military and police acting under presidential orders. There have been numerous other reports of abuse and extrajudicial disappearances—people who simply vanish—many of whom have no ties to organized crime. A significant number of these victims are Afro-Ecuadorian or individuals with darker skin tones, introducing a deeply troubling racialized dimension to the violence. 

What’s even more alarming and horrifying is the way Noboa’s government has shielded the armed forces and police when such cases have come to light. His handling of the case of the four boys from Las Malvinas reveals a complete disregard for human rights. Now that he has won the election, I believe he will feel even more empowered to continue these measures, while the armed forces are likely to feel increasingly emboldened and protected in carrying out further abuses.

Another example I want to highlight—one that also illustrates how Noboa interprets populism—concerns a serious violation of international law. Take the case of former Vice President Jorge Glas, who had been subjected to lawfare under previous administrations, including the current one. At one point, he was free and sought refuge in the Mexican Embassy in December of last year, after it appeared that Mexican authorities were prepared to grant him asylum. What followed was extraordinary: Ecuadorian police forces stormed the embassy, forcibly removed Glas, and reportedly mistreated embassy personnel. This was a clear and blatant violation of international law. Noboa clearly showed no concern. You might not agree with how the Mexican authorities handled the situation, but there are certain lines that simply should not be crossed. Noboa clearly doesn’t care. By violating international law so blatantly, he presented himself to the public as a leader who doesn’t hesitate to take bold, forceful action. In doing so, he bolstered his image—but in my view, it was a reckless and dangerous step.

Authoritarian Populism Disguised as Emergency Governance

Can Noboa’s extensive use of emergency decrees and military deployments—especially during the election—be seen as a textbook case of authoritarian populism? What democratic vulnerabilities does this strategy expose?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Yes, definitely. We’re witnessing a clear erosion of democratic standards with the emergence of deeply concerning authoritarian tendencies. The continuous state of emergency, the repeated trampling on the rule of law—these are patterns that go beyond Ecuador and are part of a broader trend in Latin American politics. There has always been a tense relationship between populism and the rule of law, that’s for sure. But I think Noboa is taking it a step further.

We’ve seen extensive use of judicial and electoral institutions for his own political ends. As I mentioned earlier, he has guaranteed impunity for the actions of the armed forces and the police. We also saw the strategic use of state-issued vouchers right before the election to secure electoral support—classic clientelist, patronage politics. All of these elements point to a serious erosion of democracy in Ecuador, and it’s something that must be watched very closely.

The only remaining institutional check on Noboa at this point is the National Assembly. He does not have an overwhelming majority there, so he will face resistance in pushing his agenda through formal channels. Still, as we’ve seen many times, there are ways around the Assembly—whether through buying off deputies, forming opportunistic coalitions with new parties, or simply pushing forward presidential decrees.

In short, yes—this is very much a textbook case of authoritarian populism, carried out under the pretext of combating criminal gangs.

Securitizing Crisis to Consolidate Power

Do you interpret Noboa’s invocation of an “internal armed conflict” and the framing of criminal gangs as terrorist threats as part of a broader global trend of securitizing social crises through populist narratives?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Right-wing populism has long prioritized the promise of law and order, placing strong emphasis on crime—whether real or perceived. Often, it is not actual crime statistics but the perception of insecurity, amplified by media narratives, that shapes political responses. In Ecuador’s case, however, the threat is tangible. Crime is a major issue, and the situation has spiraled out of control. The country currently has the highest homicide rate in the region and one of the highest globally. Noboa has taken advantage of this by going a step further—invoking the notion of an “internal armed conflict” and framing criminal gangs as terrorist threats. These groups are indeed violent and organized, but his approach reflects how power is being exercised.

From an analytical standpoint, social crises and security crises are not synonymous, though they often intersect. One may contribute to the other, but the relationship is not automatic. Ecuador has long suffered from poverty and poor economic indicators; these challenges predate the current security crisis. What we are witnessing now is a specific interpretation of how to address security threats—one that cannot be fully explained by social conditions alone. In Ecuador’s case, several additional factors are at play: the partial end of Colombia’s armed conflict, the decision by Mexican cartels to use Ecuadorian gangs as local proxies, and the retrenchment of the state since the Correa era. Following Correa’s departure, state institutions have become less present and less embedded in local territories, creating space for international criminal organizations to establish and consolidate power.

So, as you can see, this is a multifaceted problem that security experts are actively analyzing. Noboa’s brand of right-wing populism has seized upon it to construct a tough-on-crime persona. But, as I’ve already mentioned, the methods he’s employed—particularly the carte blanche given to armed forces and police—don’t appear to have delivered effective results. To address a security crisis meaningfully, you also need to resolve underlying social issues. What’s needed is a far more integrated, comprehensive approach.

Is Noboa’s security offensive more a case of populist responsiveness to widespread public fear, or is it better seen as a calculated strategy for consolidating executive power under the guise of emergency?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: It can be seen both ways. One doesn’t exclude the other. What is striking here is that there seems to be a deliberate effort to take advantage of the situation—a sort of “going populist” because he saw the opportunity was ripe to consolidate his image. When he was a candidate in the previous elections, he came across as a moderate—someone who aimed to rise above the cleavage between Correísmo and anti-Correísmo. He presented himself as a centrist, with even some left-leaning ideas, showing particular concern for the poor.

He wasn’t the “security candidate.” That was Jan Topic—a different figure entirely, who boasted about having worked as a mercenary in various war zones. Of course, everyone talked about crime—it’s been a recurring theme in Ecuadorian electoral campaigns over the last five years—but security didn’t appear to be Noboa’s strongest point, nor the reason people chose him over others.

However, the very moment he took office—and after a fleeting parliamentary collaboration with Correísmo—he took a different turn. He adopted a right-wing populist stance, emphasizing a tough-on-crime approach through extensive deployment of the armed forces, the use of emergency decrees, curfews, and similar measures.

Populism Without a Project Becomes a Tool for Survival

You’ve characterized populism as a “transitional device.” In Noboa’s case, is this transition leading toward a reconfigured institutional logic—or is it entrenching a permanent state of exception?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Yes, I have characterized populism as a “transitional device”—but that’s, of course, when you conceive of populism as a strategy tied to a broader project, a vision for steering society in a particular direction. In that sense, populism serves as a transitional mechanism toward a defined societal transformation. However, not all populists understand or employ populism in that way.

In Noboa’s case, it has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image. So yes, I do think he is entrenching a permanent state of exception. We’ll see what happens next—I’m particularly curious whether he’ll try to normalize his authority through the Constituent Assembly. But as I mentioned earlier, I don’t see him as someone with a coherent vision for the country. What are his views on industrial relations? Agricultural policy? Same-sex marriage? There are countless areas where he appears to have no defined position.

This stands in stark contrast to Correa’s project. Whatever one may think of it, that administration had a plan. Its implementation had flaws, certainly, but at least it pursued a clear direction. Noboa, by contrast, seems adrift—focused only on defending his own wealth and that of his class.

In your work on Podemos and M5S, you stress how populism’s success depends on context. Does Noboa’s popularity, despite rising violence and economic decline, suggest that right-wing populism thrives better under structural crisis than left variants like Correísmo?

Guillermo Lasso, presidential candidate of the CREO-SUMA alliance, speaks at an election rally in Quito, Ecuador, on March 26, 2017. Photo: Pablo Hidalgo.

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini:  It must be noted that right-wing populism benefits from significantly more favorable media coverage. In most cases, powerful interests tend to be far more lenient—and even benevolent—toward right-wing populist actors. The kind of pressure they exert is markedly different from what left-wing variants face. In this sense, right-wing populism is often better equipped to withstand structural crises, constraints, and even blatant shortcomings than its left-wing counterparts.

Additionally, it’s important to consider that Noboa has only been in power for a relatively short time. Many people might think, “He’s only been in office for a year and a half—let’s give him some credit and see how he performs over the next few years.”

Another important point is that, despite Noboa’s poor performance during this period, anti-Correísmo remains a powerful political sentiment. Similar dynamics can be observed in other countries—for instance, strong anti-PT sentiment in Brazil or anti-Kirchnerismo in Argentina. These are not coherent political forces—they’re heterogeneous—but they are united in their strong opposition to former left-wing leaders, for a variety of reasons I won’t delve into here. However, once this broad demographic finds a figure who gains some popularity, they’re often willing to extend that figure a political blank check.

Until Noboa, the right wing in Ecuador was highly fragmented. First, there was Guillermo Lasso, who quickly squandered his initial popularity. In the previous election, multiple right-wing candidates competed for prominence. Now, a single figure has emerged. Interestingly, Noboa has undergone a shift. While he was always opposed to Correísmo, he wasn’t initially a staunch anti-Correísta and didn’t emphasize that stance heavily. Now, however, it has become a central theme of his rhetoric. He polarizes the country by framing the political landscape as a battle between good and evil. As he put it the day after the elections: on one side, the good forces; on the other, the evil ones—into which he groups criminal gangs, Correa, his allies, and his candidate, Luisa González. He draws a clear equivalence between them.

That rhetoric has been strongly supported by the media, which has—without any evidence—suggested that Correísmo is tied to drug trafficking and criminal networks. That’s classic populist rhetoric, and it’s paying off. So yes, I do think that, for the time being, even in the face of structural crises, Noboa can maintain high popularity. But let’s see what happens next.

Populists Govern Through Deals, Not Durable Coalitions

Do Noboa’s coalition maneuvers—including fleeting alliances with Correístas—represent pragmatic populist adaptation, or are they symptomatic of Ecuador’s deep political fragmentation?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Populists need to ensure they can actually govern. Remember the example of Alexis Tsipras in Greece back in 2014. The circumstances forced him to form a parliamentary alliance with a right-wing party. Also, as I mentioned before, the initial period of Noboa’s time in power can’t really be considered fully populist. So I think it’s quite typical for populists—especially those without solid backing in parliament—to seek temporary alliances as a way to navigate governance.

Another, much riskier route is what Correa did back in 2007. He didn’t have a majority in parliament—actually, he had no presence at all, since he didn’t run any parliamentary candidates—yet he won the presidency. What he did was call for the election of a Constituent Assembly, which then overrode the National Assembly. In that way, the National Assembly was bypassed. It was a very risky gamble that could have backfired, but in the end, it worked and paved the way for his political rise. However, that’s not something all populist leaders can easily replicate—especially because organizing elections for a Constituent Assembly means you need to win an overwhelming majority.

Let’s see now what happens in parliament and whether Noboa will consider something similar. If he faces significant problems in the National Assembly, he might want to pursue a strategy like Correa’s. I’m just speculating here—there are no current rumors of that sort—but under Correa, the Constituent Assembly took over standard legislative tasks during its term, so that could well be an option.

And lastly, Professor Mazzolini, corruption scandals like Metástasis and Purga have revealed links between state actors and organized crime. How should we understand this intertwinement through the lens of populist governance and criminal co-governance?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: To be fair, I’m not so sure populism has much to do with this. If you look at the two scandals, the individuals involved included some politicians, but were mostly state officials—particularly within the judiciary and police—who colluded with organized crime. So I’m not convinced populism is central to this dynamic. It seems more closely tied to weak state institutions, which have historically been fragile and vulnerable to collusion with criminal groups.

Now, the situation is even more dire, as these criminal organizations have become significantly more threatening. Imagine a peripheral judge who is being bribed and simultaneously threatened with violence against himself and his family. If the state lacks the strength to provide protection, if it doesn’t offer stable career paths or a strong institutional culture for its officials, it becomes far more susceptible to this kind of corruption and infiltration.

So again, I wouldn’t necessarily bring populism into the picture here. Honestly, I don’t think it plays a significant role.

Protests in Turkey.

The Erdogan Regime and Its Future Amid Mass Protests: Prospects for Change?

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Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s political journey reflects a dramatic transformation—from a reform-minded leader once hailed as a model for Muslim democracies to an autocrat presiding over a deeply polarized and economically fragile Turkey. His consolidation of power, particularly after the 2016 coup attempt, has ushered in a regime marked by institutional erosion, economic mismanagement, and authoritarian repression. Recent mass protests sparked by the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu highlight growing public resistance, yet the broader trajectory remains one of democratic backsliding. Erdogan has found space to entrench his rule in an increasingly multipolar world, with Western pressure diluted by competing geopolitical priorities. The critical question now is whether domestic mobilization can meaningfully challenge this entrenched authoritarianism.

By Ibrahim Ozturk 

Populist rhetoric, which denounces the deficiencies of the established order while claiming to embody the will of “the people,” is inherently problematic. Populist leaders typically emerge from within a system of rules, institutions, values, and routines—even if that system is imperfect. Once in power, they frequently seek to undermine the structures that enabled their ascent, engaging in arbitrary and opportunistic governance. Confronted with the inevitable challenges of effective administration, their policies often fail to fulfill their promises and increasingly veer towards autocracy. 

The central irony of populism lies in its capacity to mobilize marginalized or resentful constituencies by implying that the prosperity and freedom typically associated with rule-based institutional governance can instead be achieved through contingent modes of rule—marked by unpredictability, uncertainty, and the personalized authority of charismatic leadership.

Even more concerning is the global diffusion of these populist ‘illusions.’ They have gained traction not only in advanced, affluent societies such as the United States and across Europe—despite the historical entrenchment of robust welfare state institutions—but also in major developing countries of the Global South, including Brazil, Hungary, India, Russia, and Turkey, where similar narratives have found fertile ground.

In the case of Turkey, Recep Tayyip Erdogan has at times been cited by social scientists as an exemplar of ‘positive’ or ‘progressive’ populism, particularly in light of the early wave of comprehensive reforms undertaken during his initial years in power. However, his governance trajectory over the subsequent decade has increasingly veered toward a regressive and authoritarian model. Notably, following the 2011 general elections—which secured him a third consecutive term—his reliance on contingent and arbitrary modes of decision-making, marked by repetitive ‘trial and error’ and ‘learning by doing’ strategies, contributed to systemic rent-seeking and widespread corruption. These dynamics, in turn, played a significant role in precipitating a deepening economic crisis.

Multiple independent sources suggest that, following the revelation of widespread government corruption during police investigations between December 17 and 25, 2013, the Turkish state apparatus under President Erdogan orchestrated or capitalized on the failed coup attempt of July 15, 2016. In its aftermath, and under the guise of heightened security imperatives, Erdogan moved to dismantle the constitutional system of checks and balances, culminating in the 2018 transition to a de facto one-man rule. Much like the instrumentalization of the Reichstag fire in Weimar Germany, this episode marked a turning point that ushered in a prolonged era of political instability and economic decline.

From Democratic Leadership to Absolute Authoritarianism: The Political Trajectory of Erdogan

Lord Acton famously observed that ‘absolute power corrupts absolutely,’ underscoring the inherent risks of unchecked authority in enabling corruption and authoritarianism. This insight resonates strongly with the trajectory of the Erdogan regime, which, after eroding its electoral viability through manipulative tactics and the strategic distribution of financial incentives disguised as ‘election bonuses,’ has increasingly moved to suppress direct opposition and compromise the integrity of the electoral process—ultimately at the expense of the public.

Beyond the prolonged pretrial detention of civil society figure Osman Kavala, attorney Selcuk Kozagacli, and parliamentarian Serafettin Can Atalay, the Erdogan regime has systematically targeted political adversaries across the ideological spectrum—from left-Kurdish leader Selahattin Demirtas to right-nationalist party leader Professor Umit Ozdag—often in the absence of substantive judicial proceedings. The latest escalation—the pretrial detention of Ekrem Imamoglu, Mayor of Istanbul, one of the world’s largest metropolitan centers—has significantly exceeded the limits of societal tolerance, triggering a sharp upsurge in public outrage. Imamoglu’s arrest on March 19, 2025, has provoked widespread condemnation: citizens have flooded the streets of Turkey’s major cities, university students have launched campus protests, and demands for ‘rights, law, and justice’ resonate across all social media platforms.

Let us begin with a set of critical questions: How did the Justice and Development Party (AKP), after a decade of seemingly successful governance between 2003 and 2013, descend into authoritarianism and preside over profound economic and political deterioration? How can we account for the stark contrast between President Erdogan’s two political trajectories—first, as a leader widely hailed as a model for the Islamic world, steering a ‘Muslim yet secular, democratic, modern, and European-oriented’ nation with a liberalizing market economy; and later, as the chief architect of accelerated Putinization, complete authoritarianism, and systemic economic decline?

More critically, the question now is: Where is Erdogan’s trajectory headed, particularly in light of the legitimacy afforded by the global rise of authoritarian right-wing populism—most notably in the United States and increasingly within the European Union—amid escalating challenges related to security and migration? In this context, Erdogan occupies a strategically pivotal position. What values, normative frameworks, and strategic latitude does the emerging multipolar world order afford him? Is Turkey gradually evolving into a new ‘Iron Curtain’ state within a reconfigured Cold War landscape—defined by transactional, interest-based relations with its traditional US and EU allies? As some have suggested, was the centennial of the Turkish Republic, founded by Ataturk in 1923, merely a symbolic intermission—now giving way to a neo-Sultanist order governed by a singular authority, one unrestrained by modern institutional checks or even the fixed doctrinal constraints of Sharia, thus allowing for unprecedented levels of conditionality, contingency, and arbitrariness?

In a comprehensive analysis I authored for Project Syndicate and Al Jazeera following Erdogan’s third general election victory in 2011, I acknowledged his government’s relative ‘economic miracle’ but concluded with a note of cautious skepticism: ‘The big question is how Erdogan will use this increasing power in the coming period.’ In the years since, Erdogan’s governance has offered considerable clarity regarding his long-term ambitions—developments that can be analytically divided into three distinct subperiods.

Episode One (2003–2013): The More Orthodox, the Greater the Success

The two successive analyses referenced above emphasized that during the AKP’s first decade in power (2003–2013), the implementation of comprehensive reforms aligned with the European Union accession agenda—coupled with the oversight of the IMF and World Bank—catalyzed substantial economic growth, largely driven by a notable rise in productivity for the first time in decades. In addition to favorable global liquidity conditions, Erdogan’s strong electoral legitimacy and effective leadership further reinforced this period of economic and political consolidation.

Despite rapid growth, the surge in productivity and currency appreciation—both closely tied to capital inflows—underpinned Turkey’s macroeconomic transformation. Decades of chronic inflation, which had hovered in triple digits in the early 2000s, declined to single digits by 2005, while income distribution improved markedly. Supported by wide-ranging structural reforms and sustained macroeconomic stability, the European Union officially recognized Turkey as a ‘functioning market economy’ in 2006. During this period, Turkey’s performance outpaced that of many peers in emerging markets. Declining risk premiums and an increasingly favorable investment climate ushered in a wave of foreign capital across nearly all categories—from long-term credit to record foreign direct investment (FDI) levels. This capital surge was driven by privatization initiatives, mergers and acquisitions (M&As), and substantial greenfield investments.

Source: World Bank data set.

However, this growth model soon revealed its structural limitations. Turkey failed to consolidate its early gains due to emerging signs of reform fatigue, policy reversals, and a gradual shift away from the European Union accession framework after 2007. Additionally, the model became increasingly reliant on short-term foreign capital inflows and debt-fueled expansion, while economic growth was driven largely by currency-induced consumption booms and a surge in construction and service sectors—rather than high-value-added manufacturing. This pattern of deindustrialization rendered the economy particularly vulnerable to external shocks, as evidenced during the global financial crises of 2008 and 2009. As a result, Erdogan entered his second term amid growing policy uncertainty and strategic drift.

Episode Two: Experimenting with a Sui Generis Model

During Erdogan’s second term (2013–2018), a series of significant policy shifts deepened his alignment with loyalist business elites, notably through the preferential allocation of state contracts and the consolidation of crony capitalist networks. The corruption investigations of December 17–25, 2013, exposed the extent of this system, triggering an intensification of political crackdowns and a decisive turn toward authoritarianism. Systematic attacks on institutional autonomy—particularly targeting the judiciary and the Central Bank—undermined the rule of law and eroded policy credibility. Economic growth slowed to a range of 3–5%, while political unrest, exemplified by the mass Gezi Park protests and the controversial 2016 coup attempt (widely seen as orchestrated or exploited by Erdogan), exacerbated instability. Market volatility intensified, compounded by rising US interest rates and Erdogan’s growing interference in monetary and fiscal policy, which together eroded investor confidence, prompted capital flight, and accelerated the depreciation of the Turkish lira (₺). Despite ongoing flagship infrastructure projects—such as the Istanbul Airport and Kanal Istanbul—that remained central to Erdogan’s economic narrative, Turkey shifted from a trajectory of reform-led growth to one of deepening economic and institutional uncertainty, primarily driven by the consolidation of authoritarian governance. This pivotal second period was catalyzed by the revelations of the 2013 corruption investigations.

Despite experiencing his first electoral setback on June 7, 2015, President Erdogan not only obstructed the formation of a coalition government but also exploited a climate of fear—amplified by a series of leveraged terrorist attacks—to regain electoral support under the guise of restoring ‘stability,’ ultimately securing victory in the snap elections of November 2015. This trajectory culminated in the aftermath of the controversial coup attempt on July 15, 2016, which Erdogan leveraged to consolidate his authority further. The event served as a pivotal pretext for the contested and coercively implemented regime transformation of 2018, marking the onset of his third term under a newly centralized executive presidential system.

Source: Author’s compilation from national and international datasets.

 

Episode Three (2018–Present): Crossing the Rubicon with Heterodoxy

Following the comprehensive dismantling of institutional checks and balances through the formal institutionalization of the presidential system in 2018, President Erdogan departed from conventional economic orthodoxy in favor of what he termed a “homemade indigenous model with a nationalistic outlook,”—a framework rooted in heterodox and highly politicized economic policies. The most prominent indicators of this period in the economic sphere included the politicized capture of key institutions such as the state statistical agencies and the Central Bank, accompanied by sustained political pressure that severely undermined their autonomy. Economic policymaking became increasingly unmoored from rational, evidence-based frameworks and was instead dictated by short-term political imperatives. From 2021 onward, this phase was marked by aggressive currency manipulation, credit rationing, the provision of subsidies through public banks, and a range of direct and indirect rent-transfer mechanisms benefiting political insiders aligned with the ruling elite.

The consequences were severe: hyperinflation, wage erosion, currency collapse, and escalating economic instability. The Turkish lira lost over 90% of its value between 2018 and March 2025. Inflation, which stood at 20% in 2021, soared to 85% in 2022, moderated to 43.5% in 2024, and remained high at 39.5% by March 2025. While these dynamics disproportionately burdened the poor and middle classes, they enriched Erdogan’s political allies through preferential access to state contracts and financial mechanisms, exacerbating wealth inequality. Despite this deterioration, the economy experienced short-term growth, driven by elevated public spending and an export boost facilitated by a severely devalued currency. This third era represents the most acute economic crisis under Erdogan’s leadership—one largely self-inflicted through policy mismanagement and institutional degradation.

In summary, Erdogan’s political trajectory can be delineated into three distinct phases. During his first era (2003–2013), he emerged as a pro-business reformer who modernized Turkey, attracted substantial foreign investment, and lifted millions out of poverty. The middle period (2013–2018) was marked by mounting political instability, decelerating economic growth, and an increasing consolidation of authoritarian control. The most recent phase (2018–present) has been defined by self-inflicted economic turmoil, characterized by hyperinflation, financial mismanagement, and institutional erosion. Over time, Erdogan has shifted from being hailed as an economic success story to assuming the role of a crisis manager. At the core of this transformation lies his unwavering determination to retain power and reengineer the political regime through an experimental economic and governance ‘model’—one that he neither fully comprehends nor implements coherently, operating instead through a framework of disorder, contingency, and arbitrariness.

Governance Tragedy

Erdogan’s somewhat surprising—yet, in retrospect, foreseeable—abandonment of his previously successful economic and political development model following the 2011 elections precipitated a profound governance crisis. Echoing, in form if not in content, Mao’s Cultural Revolution in China, Erdogan embarked on a series of self-declared, large-scale experiments characterized by opaque logic, undefined mechanisms, and uncertain causal relationships. Adopting a ‘learning by doing’ approach, he entrusted critical policymaking to inexperienced party loyalists and ideologically driven militants. Whereas the initial phase of governance was marked by competent technocrats and the strengthening of institutional capacity, the subsequent phase, particularly after 2018, was defined by institutional degradation, as unqualified yet ambitious individuals assumed control over key state structures. This transformation has far-reaching implications for the stability and functionality of the Turkish state apparatus.

The government’s patronage practices have extended well beyond large corporations aligned with the ruling party, encompassing individuals deemed politically loyal through strategic appointments to secure and well-compensated public sector positions. The transformation in the scale and composition of Turkey’s civil service is well documented. As of 2024, the number of public employees stands at approximately 5.3 million—more than double the 2 million recorded in 2002. Between 2002 and 2024, an estimated 3.3 million individuals were recruited into the civil service. Notably, of the 2 million civil servants employed in 2002, roughly 1 million have since retired, bringing the cumulative number of civil servants hired during the AKP era to approximately 4.3 million. This dramatic expansion reflects a broader trend of public sector growth under Erdogan’s leadership, characterized by the politicization of state institutions and the instrumental use of public employment as a means of consolidating political loyalty.

As of January 1, 2025, the national monthly minimum wage in Turkey has been set at a net TRY 22,104.67, while the base salary for civil servants has reached approximately TRY 43,726—nearly double the minimum wage. This stark disparity underscores the material privileges afforded to public-sector employees, a cohort that has increasingly been leveraged as a tool of political patronage. In contrast, individuals outside the ruling party’s patronage networks face systemic barriers to accessing public employment and are disproportionately relegated to the lower-wage private sector, where monthly earnings generally fall within the same range as the minimum wage and civil service floor (TRY 22,104.67 to TRY 43,726).

The consequences of Turkey’s governance crisis are clearly reflected across all major governance indicators. According to the Worldwide Governance Indicators (WGI) project, which evaluates six key governance dimensions for over 200 economies between 1996 and 2023, Turkey has experienced a marked and persistent decline in performance. Each WGI dimension is measured on a scale ranging from approximately -2.5 (weak governance) to 2.5 (strong governance). Table 3 summarizes Turkey’s scores across selected years, illustrating the country’s overall trajectory of governance erosion. For example, the ‘Control of Corruption’ indicator improved in the early 2000s, rising from -0.45 in 2002 to 0.08 in 2005, reflecting early reform efforts. However, by 2023, this score had deteriorated to -0.50, signaling a reversal of progress and deepening institutional fragility. Similar negative trends are observable across the other five dimensions, underscoring the systemic nature of Turkey’s governance decline.

This sustained decline in governance indicators reflects a broader erosion of Turkey’s rule of law and civil liberties. The Rule of Law Index, published by the World Justice Project, assesses countries based on factors such as constraints on government power, absence of corruption, and protection of fundamental rights. In 2024, Turkey ranked 117th out of 142 countries, significantly deviating from rule-of-law standards. Similarly, the Freedom in the World Index by Freedom House—which evaluates political rights and civil liberties globally—assigned Turkey a score of 33 out of 100, classifying it as ‘Not Free.’ Further underscoring this deterioration, Transparency International’s Corruption Perceptions Index (CPI), which ranks countries on a scale from 0 (highly corrupt) to 100 (very clean), shows Turkey’s score declining from 50 in 2013 to 34 in 2024. This sharp drop reflects a growing perception of entrenched public sector corruption and declining institutional integrity.

While definitive assessments are best left to subject-matter experts, President Erdogan’s underlying motives for Turkey’s authoritarian turn can be broadly summarized as follows:

📌 The 2008 Constitutional Court case that sought to dissolve the Justice and Development Party (AKP)—posing a direct threat to Erdogan’s political survival—catalyzed a sustained effort to assert control over the judiciary.
📌 Perceptions of European Union double standards, particularly regarding issues such as the Cyprus dispute, the stalled modernization of the EU–Turkey Customs Union, and persistent delays in the EU accession process, contributed to Turkey’s gradual disengagement from reform commitments. The government also strategically instrumentalized these grievances to avoid implementing critical reforms tied to transparency, inclusivity, and fair competition in public procurement, especially in infrastructure investment tenders.
📌 The collapse of the Kurdish peace initiative resulted in a resurgence of violence, further destabilizing domestic politics and hardening Erdogan’s security-focused posture.
📌 The fallout with the Gulen movement, once a close ally of the regime, culminated in a sweeping purge of state institutions following the 2016 coup attempt, consolidating Erdogan’s unchecked authority.
📌 Facing a shortage of qualified technocrats, Erdogan increasingly staffed key institutions with ideologically driven loyalists, while shifting economic focus toward sectors amenable to centralized control—such as construction, tourism, and rent-seeking industries.
📌 Ideologically influenced by the National View (Milli Görüş) movement, Erdogan has pursued the replacement of Turkey’s Kemalist-secular state tradition with a sui generis, neo-Ottoman model of governance marked by centralized power, religious symbolism, and historical revisionism.
 

Conclusion

Turkey’s recent development trajectory reveals a recurring pattern: periods of economic and political advancement have tended to coincide with phases of openness and integration with the West, while inward-looking, ‘local and national’ strategies have frequently corresponded with stagnation or regression. Given its geostrategic location, Turkey’s engagement with Western institutions and normative frameworks has not been merely opportunistic, but structurally imperative for sustaining reform and modernization. However, shifting global power dynamics have expanded Turkey’s strategic autonomy, simultaneously weakening the external normative pressures that once served as a moderating force on its domestic governance and policy orientation.

Available evidence strongly suggests that President Erdogan has decisively abandoned democratic norms, transparent governance, and the rule of law. The current international environment—marked by growing multipolarity, the global resurgence of populist movements such as Trumpism, and Europe’s acute focus on security and migration—has provided Erdogan with the strategic latitude to expand executive authority with minimal external resistance. Although recent episodes of public dissent may pose temporary tactical constraints, they are unlikely to alter the broader trajectory of authoritarian consolidation that appears poised to define Turkey’s political future.

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

Dr. Boucher: Trump Is Not the Cause, but a Symptom

by EconomicsEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In this incisive ECPS interview, Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher, Associate Professor at the University of Calgary, explores how populism is reshaping US foreign policy—from tariffs as symbolic resistance to institutional erosion under Trump 2.0. Arguing that “Trump is not the cause but a symptom,” Dr. Boucher warns that even without Trump, populist forces will endure, backed by media ecosystems, think tanks, and loyalist networks. He emphasizes that “this is not really an economic argument. It’s a political and populist argument,” driving a shift from multilateralism to nationalist retrenchment. A must-read for anyone interested in the ideological drivers behind today’s turbulent geopolitics.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this timely and penetrating interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher—Associate Professor at the University of Calgary’s School of Public Policy and Department of Political Science—offers a comprehensive assessment of how populist ideology is transforming American foreign policy, institutional norms, and multilateral engagement. Central to Dr. Boucher’s argument is a provocative but sobering claim: “Trump is not the cause but a symptom.” Even if Donald Trump were no longer on the political stage, Dr. Boucher insists, “this movement would remain part of the political conversation,” underscoring the durability and depth of populist forces within American society and institutions.

Dr. Boucher advances the ideational approach to populism, which links belief systems to behavioral patterns. Rather than viewing populist discourse as purely performative or strategic, he argues that “these people really believe in these values and these hierarchies of beliefs, and they’ll start to act upon it.” This perspective, he contends, helps explain the internal coherence of Trump’s policies across domains, including trade, immigration, and foreign relations.

One of the interview’s central themes is the symbolic repurposing of trade tools like tariffs. For Trump and his supporters, tariffs are no longer just economic instruments; they are reimagined as expressions of national sovereignty and resistance against a “globalist elite.” As Dr. Boucher puts it, “this is not really an economic argument. It’s a political and populist argument.” This reframing speaks to broader populist tendencies that elevate identity, emotion, and anti-elite resentment over technocratic expertise and institutional procedure.

Throughout the conversation, Dr. Boucher traces how institutional degradation—accelerated under what he calls “Trump 2.0”—is being enabled by a growing ecosystem of populist actors, from think tanks like those behind Project 2025 to social media influencers and tech elites. He warns that foreign policy institutions like the State Department and Department of Defense are being hollowed out, potentially making way for a more centralized, nativist, and unilateralist foreign policy doctrine.

Ultimately, Dr. Boucher’s analysis is a call to recognize the structural, not merely electoral, nature of the populist threat. “There’s significant support for it,” he reminds us. Understanding this dynamic is essential for those hoping to defend democratic institutions and multilateralism in an era of resurgent populism.

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher—Associate Professor at the University of Calgary’s School of Public Policy and Department of Political Science.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher.

They Don’t Just Talk Like Populists—They Behave Like Populists

Professor Boucher, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question. How does the ideational approach to populism help us understand the continuity between Trump’s first and second administrations in shaping foreign policy through anti-elitist and pro-people rhetoric?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: That’s a great question, as it delves into a central debate in populism studies: the distinction between the discursive and ideational approaches. What I appreciate about the ideational approach is its emphasis on the connection between beliefs, values, and behaviors. This perspective posits that populist leaders and their supporters don’t merely articulate anti-elitist and pro-people sentiments—they genuinely hold these beliefs and act accordingly. Thus, when viewed through the ideational lens, populism is seen not just as rhetoric but as a guiding ideology that influences actions across various domains. This framework helps explain the consistency in populist behavior, as individuals internalize these values and implement them in practice.​

And this is why I really like the ideational approach to foreign policy—because the argument is that Trump not only holds a thin-centered populist ideology, but also implemented policies aimed at realizing these ideas, targeting elites and advancing pro-people narratives. This approach influenced not only domestic politics but extended into foreign policy as well. When using a discursive approach, it’s harder to explain why a populist would shift across different policy sectors. But if they have an ideology, the assumption is that this belief system extends across various domains—economics, immigration, and, in this case, foreign policy. So, I really believe the ideational approach helps us better understand the consistency in the Trump Administration’s policies.

In foreign policy, for example, the first Trump administration made several decisions closely tied to populist views. There was a strong emphasis on tariffs, as well as on immigration—remember the travel ban and the push for anti-Muslim policies. These moves clearly reflected a blend of populism and ethnonationalism at the core of the administration’s agenda. And we’re seeing similar patterns emerging again in Trump 2.0. I think that’s important to understand.

You’ve written about populism’s impact on foreign policy coherence. In the current environment, can foreign policy institutions remain resilient under populist leadership, or do they inevitably erode?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: When you sent me that question, I really thought about it, and I’m still kind of debating it in my head. I think there’s a lot of interesting research about  populism on how populist leaders go after institutions and try to change or disaggregate them so that a lot of the power centers shift back toward the populist leaders and away from these institutions. In foreign policy, we’re seeing the same thing, especially in Trump 2.0.

In the first Trump administration, foreign policy institutions—the State Department, the Department of Defense, even the Department of Homeland Security—were more or less able to maintain their integrity. A lot of the so-called “adults in the room” at the time came from the national security and foreign policy environment.

But when we look at Project 2025, a lot of the post-Trump reflections suggest that one of the administration’s misgivings about the first term was that these institutions resisted Trump’s agenda. In Trump 2.0, a major focus is on restructuring these institutions—the State Department, the Department of Defense, Homeland Security, even the NSA. There’s a strong push against the elites and a shift toward loyalists.

At the international level, Trump is doing the same thing: pulling the US out of the WHO, expressing skepticism about the G20 and G7, and generally trying to undermine international institutions that might constrain his foreign policy decisions.

What I find interesting is that Trump uses the same kind of discourse to justify what he’s doing domestically and internationally. He talks about elites controlling institutions, about those institutions not representing the will of the people, and about the need to undo them so that the people’s voice is heard. And you see the same thing at the international level, where he argues that globalists and internationalists are controlling those institutions. That’s why, he claims, the United States has to put Americans—the American people—first and, in doing so, take back control from those institutions that influence foreign policy.

Extending the Manichean Divide: From Domestic Elites to Global Conspiracies

How has the Trump administration weaponized populist narratives that portray global trade regimes as elite conspiracies to justify protectionism?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: This is a question I’m asking myself all the time. I think it really— from an ideational perspective—it’s not just about weaponization. My question always, in my head, is whether populists really believe what they say, or is it just kind of a way to frame their issues? And if you take an ideational approach, you’ll say these populists actually believe that that’s true.

Trump has been very consistent across his career in thinking that tariffs are a good way and a good policy, and much of the argument was that outside actors and the elites were essentially taking over American policies and abusing the American people unfairly. It’s about transposing this kind of anti-elite argument from the domestic environment onto the international level, and saying: “All of these countries in the world and all of these globalists are creating this network that’s abusive to the United States,” and that somehow they have removed the capacity of Americans to make their own policies and decide for themselves—that the American people have lost agency.

Trump really used this kind of language to articulate a protectionist policy that frames outside actors as abusive and corrupt institutions, countries, and people—and that he, as the populist leader, is fighting back and reclaiming these powers for the American people.

So the way I see it, you essentially extend the Manichean view of populism to the international level, where “the people” becomes the American people and “the elites” are reimagined as foreign actors or global institutions seen as corrupt and exploitative. It’s the same framework of a divided world: the corrupt versus the pure people, who are portrayed as disenfranchised and disempowered by those elites.

Your chapter in a recently published book highlights the role of nativist securitization in justifying the travel ban. In today’s context, how might similar nativist framing be deployed in foreign policy debates such as immigration from conflict zones or relations with ‘globalist’ institutions?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: The paper was written a long time ago, and it’s ironic that it took so long to get published—only for the same kinds of nativist and anti-immigration policies to reemerge. It’s depressing to realize that, in a grim way, we were right. The argument in that paper was that, on immigration issues, ethno-nationalism and populism were structured similarly, creating a framework of outside and inside actors—an idea central to ethno-nationalist thinking.

I thought at the time that it was an interesting way to frame those issues in the populist context. Others have worked extensively on populism, far-right populism, and ethno-nationalism. In this context, what we saw was that Trump’s framing of immigration issues was really centered around the narrative of elites versus the people—with “the people” portrayed as a kind of ethno-nationalist, pure group—and this created an outside/inside actor dynamic. That framing was central to the policy and shaped much of how these issues were understood. That’s how we approached the argument.

Trump Is the Symptom of a Deeper Foreign Policy Shift

A Trump supporter holds up a “Make America Great Again” sign at presidential candidate Donald Trump’s rally in the convention center in Sioux City, Iowa, on November 6, 2016. Photo: Mark Reinstein.

In the light of the increasing overlap between populism and foreign policy, do you foresee a lasting structural transformation of US foreign policy priorities—away from multilateralism and toward identity-driven narratives of national sovereignty and civilizational conflict?

Jean-Christophe Boucher:  I do. I think so. I’m a Canadian, and of course, we’re very close to the Americans. We’ve been witnessing a lot of what’s happening—and as you know, we’re bearing the brunt of much of the United States’ abuse at this time: being called the 51st state and facing challenges to our sovereignty.

What we see from our perspective—and I think this applies to the populist perspective as well—is twofold. On the one hand, we sometimes mistake the leader for the movement. We tend to think that Trump, the populist leader, is the architect of everything. That’s a mistake. What we’re seeing among the American people right now is a real appetite for populist discourse at the grassroots level—at the demand level—and Trump is merely an embodiment of that pressure. Many individuals within American institutions and among the elite also hold populist ideas. Even if Trump were to disappear from the scene, the movement would remain part of the political conversation, and I don’t think it would fundamentally change what’s happening in the US. Trump is not the cause but a symptom. There’s a broader movement that supports the way he behaves, which helps explain why the pushback against his undermining of institutions hasn’t been as strong as one might expect—because there’s significant support for it.

The second part is that systematically, the Trump administration is going after the foreign policy establishments and institutions in the US—State Department, DoD, DHS. At all levels, there’s been a deep dive into these institutions and an uprooting of many programs and checks and balances that had been in place. It’s not just USAID. If you look at what the Department of Defense is doing on DEI and other issues, there’s a deep restructuring underway. So even if Trump moves away in 2028, those institutions will look very different from when he came in. It will take time to rebuild them—if that even happens.

Not only is there an appetite for what Trump represents, but the institutions that once safeguarded against that appetite may no longer exist. We’ll be left with institutions that make it easier for a populist leader to pursue a foreign policy that is more self-centered, more nativist, and more protectionist. And I think that’s the future we’re likely to see in the coming years.

Social Media Lets Populist Leaders Sidestep Institutions and Speak Unfiltered

Given your findings on the use of social media to propagate populist foreign policy, how do you assess the evolution of this communication strategy in Trump’s second term, especially with shifting media platforms and increasing polarization?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: I think it’s part of the argument. There’s a lot of good research on why populist leaders prefer social media or alternative media as a way to communicate with the people. There are a lot of arguments. One is that mainstream media are portrayed as those of the elites, and somehow populist leaders have a deep-seated obsession about that. But social media also allows the populist leader to have a direct connection with the people and talk to them specifically.

If you look at what the Trump administration is doing, there’s a lot of that. In Trump 1.0, there were all these attacks on mainstream media, on fake news, and all of those were constant. We see it in our data on tariffs, but even on nativism—a lot of the anti-elite discourse coming directly from Trump and from the people is directed against those media institutions that seem to represent the elites.

What I find interesting right now in Trump 2.0 is that Trump is actually going after those institutions directly. You’ve seen, for example, how they’re suing CBS and other institutions, cutting ties with NPR, and really going after a lot of the power centers of mainstream media.

You also see how he’s allowing a lot of alternative media to attend press conferences, giving those outlets a larger impact.

Finally, we see that the Trump administration—like Trump 1.0—really communicates many of its ideas and arguments on social media. On tariffs, for example, policy officials actually learn about new directions in tariff policy through Trump’s posts on Truth Social or X. Social media becomes a really strong way for him to do this.

It also allows the populist leader to sidestep all the checks and balances of institutions—but also internally—where what he can say and how he addresses himself is unrestrained by those actors. And that really makes it an important part of that conversation.

Trump Is No Longer Alone—Populism Now Operates as an Institutionalized Ecosystem

Photo: Dreamstime.

You demonstrate that populist narratives were reinforced by networks of actors beyond political elites, including media and think tanks. How do you see these networks evolving under renewed populist leadership, and what new actors have emerged in this space since 2017?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: This is one of the things we wanted to highlight. The more I reflect on how we wrote about those issues at the time, the more I realize that our central argument was this: much of the literature focuses on populist leaders but overlooks the broader network that supports them. In fact, if you’re trying to understand a populist movement, you have to consider all the actors who enable and sustain the leader. It’s very difficult for a populist leader to operate in isolation—there’s always a constellation of other actors involved.

When we looked at social media networks and influencers, we found that while the populist leader was the most influential figure, there were many other groups—advocacy groups, think tanks—that supported the environment around him.

Today, you see exactly the same thing. Some of those actors are now part of the Trump administration. For example, Project 2025, which was at the center of a think-tank effort to produce populist ideas on transforming government in a potential Trump 2.0 administration, is now embedded in the administration. Figures like Elon Musk and the tech bros, who pushed populist ideas on social media, were essential to Trump’s reelection and are now part of the governing sphere, helping implement the president’s agenda.

People like Jack Posobiec and other far-right network figures who were once just part of the ecosystem around Trump and the MAGA movement are now in or close to government. So, when we think about the Trump administration, we should stop thinking of Trump as the sole actor—there’s an entire ecosystem that was nascent in Trump 1.0 but is now fully institutionalized in Trump 2.0.

What I saw in 2016–17 was a loose, informal network. Over the last four years, that network has crystallized into a proper movement—with influencers, money, institutions, and architecture that now serve as the base of the MAGA movement. It’s a lot more formalized.

That’s why the Trump administration is now able to move faster on its agenda and more effectively push its populist ideas into the system—because of the support from all these actors. He wouldn’t be able to do what he’s doing without Elon Musk and others backing him. He wouldn’t be able to move without Mike Johnson controlling Congress. Many of those actors who were loosely connected in 2016–2020 are now firmly part of his circle, accelerating and deepening the reach of his agenda into institutions.

How have Trump’s populist politics redefined the symbolic value of tariffs—not merely as economic tools, but as performative instruments of sovereignty and resistance against the ‘globalist elite’?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: This is where the populist argument comes in—where you mix the economics of it with the politics and belief system behind it. In the US right now, in the conversation around tariffs, there are really two conversations happening at the same time. You have the economic conversation, where a lot of economists are trying to explain why tariffs are a good thing for the US and trying to justify them. I’m less interested in that, because it seems like all the data goes against that argument. The idea that tariffs are economically beneficial is a marginal one.

What I find more interesting and more conducive to explaining what’s happening is this belief system. Trump genuinely believes that tariffs will undo the power of the elites and recreate a structure of economics that refocuses on the good of the American people. And somehow, that’s how it should be. The interesting part is, you can hear it when he talks—he recognizes that this will have deep economic impacts. He says, “This will be difficult. This will produce pain. But this is a good thing for the American people.” We’re going to bring back real jobs for real Americans—for workers—and that matters more.

Despite the economic pain, this is not really an economic argument. It’s a political and populist argument that explains why he supports tariffs. And when you listen to his political rationale, it makes a lot more sense than if you approach it purely from an economic perspective. I also think that’s why trying to argue with the Trump movement on economic terms doesn’t work—because in their view, it’s not an economic argument at all. It’s a political belief system they’re trying to put in place. They really don’t care if some economic pain is produced in that process. What they’re seeking is to re-center economic power around the American people, and not around what they see as the elites and people in the cities who benefit from a global international system.

Tariffs Are Populist Symbols of Sovereignty and Struggle

3D illustration: Lightspring.

You argue that foreign policy is increasingly shaped by emotional and identity-based appeals. To what extent do you see populist trade wars as cultural projects, not just economic or strategic ones? Are we now seeing what you anticipated: the normalization of tariffs as political theatre, rather than as policy tools grounded in economic rationale?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: Remember that we wrote this paper in 2017–2018—it was a long time ago. What really concerns me is that I was hoping we would be wrong, or that it would turn out to be just a passing moment. But today, it’s becoming more and more about exactly that—and it’s not just within the Trump administration. We’re seeing increasing arguments that trade and protectionism are being framed as formal expressions of the will of the people. I think that’s the important part.

One of the arguments we see in the populist movement is that global trade networks really removed the center of power from the people to these elites—the bankers, the traders—who were able to control global markets, while the people were left behind. And, of course, they characterize these people—these Davos and World Economic Forum elites—as corrupt actors controlling the international economic system.

What I find interesting—and this is why I think it’s an ideology more than just a discourse—is that most populist leaders, from the left and the right, have the same rhetoric. From Marine Le Pen in France to Nigel Farage in the UK to Orban in Hungary, you’re seeing the same kind of argument: that we have to take power away from the globalists, create protectionist policies to protect the people, and disengage from these global economic networks.

I believe that right now we are in that phase. We’re seeing a retrenchment from global politics and a refocusing on national manufacturing and supply-side arguments. Trade will become more sticky, and there will be more friction in international trade than we were used to.

What I find interesting—last point—is that even without Trump, when we listen to the Biden administration, there’s a lot of talk about supply chain management, supply chain security, and bringing back manufacturing jobs and national economic capacities. So even without Trump, you still have this kind of retrenchment from loose international trade and a renewed focus on domestic politics and domestic economics.

Tariffs Aren’t Just Economic Tools—They’re Instruments to Recenter Power on ‘the People

Drawing on your “I, Tariff Man” analysis, how has Trump’s second term intensified the personalization and performative use of trade policy? In what ways does this reflect broader populist tendencies that reject institutional expertise and multilateralism while mobilizing domestic political support?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: From an ideational perspective, populism—and its Manichean view of the world—shapes how people think and behave. In the trade environment, we see this clearly: tariffs become a tool for constructing a populist framework. Through tariffs, institutions built to manage global trade are effectively weakened or disassembled. Power is taken away from the elites who control international networks and redirected toward “the people,” refocusing economic forces inward.

In the populist literature, there’s always this argument—whether populism is a disease of democratic systems or a correction to a lack of representation in an economic system. And I really think the way a lot of populists think about tariffs reflects the latter. It’s seen as a corrective to brittle trade negotiations that took economic power away from the people and handed it to elites—people in cities, in the service industry, who were able to live well while workers became less powerful. So, retaking that power becomes the goal.

I don’t think it’s just performative. I think they genuinely believe this will recenter power on the people and help recreate a manufacturing base. When you listen to how some economists frame it, they suggest it will make life harder for service industries in cities, reduce their economic influence, and shift that power toward manufacturing and “Middle America,” where more of the population resides. Personally, I don’t think it will work that way—automation and other structural factors have played a major role in the erosion of US manufacturing—but from their perspective, the argument is clear: jobs were exported, elites benefited, and the people suffered. Tariffs are intended to sever those global networks and refocus the economy internally.

It might result in a less productive America. It might hollow out the cities and the service economy. But for populists, that’s probably the point—and they’re okay with that.

We’re Heading Toward a Smaller, Less Open World

With Trump’s renewed disengagement from WTO norms, do you see this as a terminal moment for the postwar liberal trade order, or is there still a path to restoration? What lessons can be drawn from the Trump era about the vulnerability of international economic governance to populist subversion, and what reforms are needed to future-proof institutions like the WTO from nationalist retrenchment?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: As a Canadian, I think about this all the time—and to be honest, there’s a lot to consider.My first assumption is that the Trump administration is just a symptom. So you’re still going to see a broader retrenchment from free trade, and even if, say, in 2028, a new president were elected, I don’t think this kind of protectionism would simply go away. A lot of international institutions will have a hard time surviving in that kind of system.

What I’m seeing, at least from Canada’s perspective, is that maybe some countries will keep these institutions alive and reduce the dominance of large multinational corporations. My sense is that the future lies in minilateralism—where like-minded countries who still see value in trade will maintain these institutions, but more for their own benefit than for the global system.

At the EU level, I think we’ll see more internal consolidation of trade and governance policies—unless, of course, a far-right government comes to power in a major state like France, which could unravel key aspects of the EU. Countries like Canada still want more trade and strong relationships with institutions like the WTO, but I believe the global trade environment will be significantly smaller than it once was.

Governments like ours can’t replace the United States in terms of global leadership—our prime minister recently said “if the Americans won’t lead, Canada will,” but let’s be honest: no one can replace the US in terms of resources and influence. What we might see is more involvement from China, Russia, and Iran in shaping these institutions—but their vision for the international system is quite different from that of the US and its allies.

So, my assumption is that we’re entering a deeply transformative period. The world will become smaller, more fragmented into blocs of countries defending their own values and interests—and far less open at the international level.

In the end, I think the countries that will suffer most are those in Africa, Latin America, and other regions of the Global South, because they benefited significantly from openness and multilateral institutions. Wealthier nations can still provide many of the services and information gathering that multilateral institutions once offered, but smaller states can’t. If you were a small country in Africa, those institutions were a lifeline.

I guess I’m a pessimist here, but I do believe we’re heading toward a smaller, less open world.

Multilateralism Is No Longer a Principle—It’s a Strategy

And lastly, Professor Boucher, how should policymakers in Canada respond to the dual threat of economic harm and normative erosion posed by populist-driven trade wars? What counter-narratives can be mobilized to restore public trust in multilateralism?

Dr. Jean-Christophe Boucher: Even in Canada, I’d say that—let’s put it this way—there was a movement not that long ago, when I was doing my PhD, that argued multilateralism was more of a practice than a belief. The idea was that what was good was not multilateralism as an end in itself, but as a means—a mode of engagement. The work in practice theory and international relations emphasized that what mattered was the activity of multilateralism, rather than its outcomes.

I don’t think that holds anymore, even in Canada. I think Canadians are now less and less devoted to multilateralism as a principle, and more interested in promoting their own views and strategic interests. What we see here is a sense that the world is retrenching, becoming smaller, and that we need to refocus our attention more narrowly.

The rise of China and Russia has shown how difficult it is for multilateral institutions to adapt. Now that the United States has also joined this retrenchment, I think it signals that those institutions won’t survive in their present form. As a result, a lot of Canada’s foreign policy is moving away from traditional multilateralism and toward more bilateral or minilateral relationships.

For example, if you look at what Canada is doing: we’re deepening ties with key European partners—not just through Brussels, but also through Paris, London, and Berlin. There’s been increasing talk about Canada joining the European Union, and frankly, if there were a referendum today, it might actually pass. Many Canadians feel that makes sense strategically.

Recently, we also published a document formalizing our Indo-Pacific strategy. If you look at where Canada is focusing its efforts, it’s clearly on strengthening relationships with partners in the Pacific—Japan, Taiwan, South Korea, Australia. There’s a renewed emphasis on ASEAN as well.

So we’re moving away from the big, universalist international institutions and focusing more on regional, minilateral partnerships. It’s just easier. The commitment to shared values is clearer, and the conversations are more straightforward than what we often encounter at the global level.

Dr. Spyros Sofos—Assistant Professor in Global Humanities at Simon Fraser University in Canada.

Dr. Sofos: The More Rigid the Erdogan Regime Becomes, the Easier It May Break

by AuthoritarianismEditor’s ChoiceExtremism & RadicalisationHomeInterviews

“The more rigid the regime becomes, the more easily it may break,” warns Dr. Spyros Sofos in an illuminating interview with ECPS. Tracing the Erdogan regime’s shift from reformist Islamism to a personalized authoritarianism, Dr. Sofos highlights how the dismantling of institutional checks and grassroots engagement has deepened Turkey’s democratic crisis. He sharply critiques the EU and US for enabling this drift, arguing that their silence—rooted in strategic pragmatism over refugee control and regional stability—amounts to tacit complicity. As Erdogan’s rule grows more centralized and brittle, Dr. Sofos suggests its very inflexibility could be its undoing. Amid repression and international complacency, he insists, spaces for resistance persist—and the next rupture may come from within the regime itself.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a timely and far-reaching interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Spyros Sofos—Assistant Professor in Global Humanities at Simon Fraser University—offers a deeply informed and critical analysis of the Erdogan regime’s evolution into an increasingly rigid and personalized form of authoritarian populism. “The more rigid the regime becomes,” Dr. Sofos warns, “the more easily it may break.” Far from being a sign of consolidated power, he argues, the regime’s escalation of repression—most recently with the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu—betrays deep insecurity and structural fragility within a system that has steadily dismantled institutional checks and blurred distinctions between state, party, and judiciary.

Dr. Sofos traces how the AKP’s early reformist stance, driven in part by strategic engagement with European institutions, gave way to a calculated centralization of power following institutional resistance from the military and judiciary. He explores the AKP’s ideological recalibration—through religious nationalism, neo-Ottoman nostalgia, and pan-Turkic outreach—as a tactical means to expand and solidify its coalition amid economic turmoil and intra-Islamist fragmentation.

Yet just as trenchant is his critique of the European Union and the broader West, whose response to Turkey’s democratic backsliding has been marked by passivity and strategic self-interest. “Effectively, what the EU and the US have been doing is wanting Turkey to ensure that the masses of displaced people within its territory would not move towards the West,” he states bluntly. In prioritizing border control, security cooperation, and transactional diplomacy over democratic principles, Western powers have turned a blind eye to the regime’s authoritarian escalation—signaling tacit approval through their silence. Dr. Sofos calls out this hypocrisy, echoing Imamoglu’s own condemnation of European leaders for abandoning not just him personally, but the very idea of democracy in Turkey.

He also warns that the West’s failure to push back meaningfully against Erdogan’s authoritarian turn—driven by domestic electoral concerns and geopolitical calculus—risks normalizing the erosion of democracy, both in Turkey and beyond. With comparative insights from Hungary, India, and Israel, Dr. Sofos situates the Turkish case within a wider global trend of populist-authoritarian drift, but insists that this is not a one-way trajectory. The regime’s internal contradictions, coupled with mounting grassroots resistance and international hypocrisy fatigue, may yet create opportunities for democratic renewal.

This interview is not only a sobering account of democratic decline in Turkey, but also a compelling indictment of Western complacency in the face of it.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Spyros Sofos.

Ottoman Nostalgia as a Tool of Populist Reinvention

Supporters await the arrival of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan at a referendum rally in Istanbul on April 8, 2017. Photo: Thomas Koch.

Professor Sofos, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How do you interpret the Erdoğan regime’s mobilization of Ottoman nostalgia in both domestic and international contexts as part of a broader populist-authoritarian narrative?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: Thank you for having me. That’s a very interesting question, as there has been considerable discussion about neo-Ottomanism and the broader concept of Ottoman nostalgia. I believe the Erdogan regime needed a narrative that could effectively counter the one developed by the Kemalist regime over the past century. This new narrative serves several purposes.

The first is linked to the regime’s reinterpretation of history—particularly evident in debates around the reconversion of Hagia Sophia and other Christian monuments. Erdogan’s government has framed the Justice and Development Party (AKP) constituency as victims whose sovereignty was denied under the Republic for 100 years. In that context, a return to Ottoman nostalgia becomes a way of reclaiming a past where, ostensibly, there was more sovereignty and the people were heard. This re-imagined past helps construct an alternative vision of popular sovereignty, centered around the AKP’s base—and, I would argue, much of the nationalist constituency as well.

The second reason relates more to the interests the current leadership perceives as central to Turkey’s role both domestically and internationally, as well as to the political elite’s own strategic goals. For example, we see Ottoman nostalgia being used in foreign policy to justify, or at least lend legitimacy to, expanded relationships with countries that Turkey sees as pivotal—not only in its immediate region but also across Africa.

A striking example is Turkey’s presence in the Sahel and West Africa. The invocation of Ottoman-era connections is used to frame Turkey’s involvement in countries like Somalia—not only in humanitarian terms but as part of a broader strategic interest, grounded in a historical narrative of Ottoman reach. This is, of course, a very flexible interpretation of history, but one that the regime has used effectively.

This pattern also applies to Turkey’s outreach in the Balkans—something that began under Turgut Ozal. In countries like Bosnia, North Macedonia, and Albania, there’s a strong emphasis on rekindling historical and cultural kinship, often under the umbrella of shared Ottoman heritage.

Interestingly, the outreach to Central Asia—while unrelated to the Ottoman Empire—is also wrapped into this broader narrative. This connection seems driven either by economic interests or by a pan-Turkic nationalism that predates the AKP. So while neo-Ottomanism features prominently in both domestic and foreign policy, the regime also draws on other strands of historical memory to shape its identity and strategy.

From Reform to Repression: The Strategic Evolution of Political Islam under the AKP

How has political Islamism under the AKP evolved from a reformist or counter-hegemonic force into an ideological tool for authoritarian consolidation and state-led populism?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: I think that’s an important question. Political Islam—broadly speaking—had long been under threat from Turkey’s military, judiciary, and bureaucratic institutions before the AKP’s first electoral victory. In those earlier years, Islamist politicians were cautious in how they criticized the state and its institutions.

In the first five or so years of the AKP government, we saw what some scholars have called a “politics of patience”—a cautious, incremental approach to reform. There were several reasons for this. First, the AKP sought to emphasize its commitment to European institutions and to the broader European integration project. As such, it had to present itself as a genuinely reformist party.

While it may sound a bit cynical to frame it this way, this positioning made it much harder for the military and judiciary to halt the AKP’s political momentum. After all, the AKP was arguably the most pro-European and pro-reform force in Turkish politics at the time. Any attempt to stop it would likely have triggered significant Western backlash, possibly even sanctions. With hindsight, I now see this as a carefully calculated strategy. At the time, I was quite hopeful—thinking that this opening could bridge the divide between the “old regime” and the emerging Islamic-oriented political elite. But in retrospect, it seems it was more about ensuring the survival and viability of Erdogan’s political project.

The so-called “e-coup” during the 2007 presidential election, when Abdullah Gul’s candidacy was being obstructed by military and judicial actors, marked a turning point. This intervention allowed Erdogan and his allies to pivot from their cautious stance to a more confrontational and assertive posture.

So, while the AKP initially positioned itself as reformist out of necessity, the institutional resistance it faced—particularly from the army and judiciary—created an opening for it to strike back sooner than it might have otherwise. And unfortunately, this shift happened at a time when civil society lacked the strength to act as an effective check on power.

Islamist Nationalism Rebranded: Survival Politics in Erdogan’s Turkey

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan watching the August 30 Victory Day Parade in Ankara, Turkey on August 30, 2014. Photo by Mustafa Kirazli.

Do the regime’s increasingly religious-nationalist narratives reflect a deeper radicalization or strategic recalibration—and to what extent do these still resonate with the AKP’s traditional base amid economic hardship and intra-Islamist fragmentation?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: That’s one of the most interesting and challenging questions I’ve had to think about over the past couple of years. I believe we need to complicate the idea of the AKP as simply an “Islamist” party, full stop. It’s something more complex—and its ideology has evolved, largely in response to shifting constituencies that it needs to mobilize for political survival.

Over the years, we’ve seen alliances like the one with the Nationalist Movement Party (MHP) and Devlet Bahceli, which introduced a significant nationalist component into the AKP’s political orbit. Most recently, in the 2023 presidential elections, we witnessed a major push to win over nationalist voters. While Islam isn’t necessarily incompatible with nationalist currents in Turkey, this required the AKP to recalibrate its discourse in a way that differed substantially from its earlier messaging.

The party continues to promote a form of nationalism infused with Islamic elements, but it’s no longer offering the same vision as in the early 2000s. It’s certainly not a reincarnation of Alparslan Turkes-style nationalism either—but it has shown a willingness to experiment with different formulations of Turkish nationalism in order to appeal to broader political forces and secure electoral dominance.

This ideological flexibility is significant. Some of the intellectual figures in the AKP’s broader sphere of influence now engage with strands of nationalist thought that were previously absent from Islamist political discourse in Turkey.

At the same time, I don’t believe Islam has been displaced from the core of the AKP’s identity. But it has never been the only element. From the beginning, the party positioned itself as a voice for the downtrodden—regardless of their level of religiosity or piety. It’s always sought to build a broader coalition, and I think that remains true today.

In your work on the Gezi Protests, you emphasized the significance of bottom-up resistance. How do the dynamics of current mass protests compare to the 2013 Gezi movement in terms of ideological coherence, regime response, and potential for catalyzing long-term democratic transformation?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: That’s also the million-dollar question. So let me just try to unpack a few things about Gezi. I think Gezi was unique in the sense that it was not a movement that wanted to change a government. It was not aspiring to play a political role in the way, for example, that political parties would. And I think that was the secret behind its success and its failure at the same time. So it was a movement about bringing some sort of freedom into what Habermas would have called the life-world.

It was a movement that was against the policing of everyday life, people’s bodies, people’s relationship with nature, and so on. And of course, it had a political emphasis, which is the element of continuity. So it was a different movement, but there was also an emphasis on change—not necessarily governmental change—that I can see today in the mobilizations that have been taking place, especially after the arrest of Imamoglu recently.

What has changed, I think, and what is quite interesting to bear in mind, is that the mobilizations of today, at least in my reading, have not been as unplanned as the mobilizations of Gezi. You know, most people—I interviewed people—said, “I went there because I felt something was happening, and I needed to be part of it.” Today, many people may be thinking that something is happening and they need to be part of it—but I think Imamoglu himself, who is a very astute politician, had been preparing for this moment, and therefore he had ensured that there would be some sort of planning for what happens after his arrest or incapacitation.

We see that also in the fact that he’s been able to communicate out of jail fairly easily, that he managed to publish in international media quite articulate articles that could not have been scribbled at the last minute. And also, we have a change within the CHP that has allowed the party to be more able to mobilize people in support of democratic change.

I’m not trying to say that there is something sinister about this. I’m trying to say that there is a spirit of Gezi in the air—I can see that—but there is also more of a relationship between the current mobilizations and the political parties of the opposition that want to see democratic change.

Imamoglu’s Arrest Signals the Cracking Façade of Competitive Authoritarianism

To what extent does the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu mark a definitive rupture in Turkey’s evolution from competitive authoritarianism toward full-fledged autocracy—and does it reflect a broader erosion of political pluralism?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: I was always cautious about Imamoglu, because I really consider him a very astute politician—a politician who is not authoritarian per se, but who has realized that a kind of populism—which I find, I’m always suspicious of populism—was the means of defeating Erdogan. And I was always arguing that Imamoglu may be one of the best hopes of defeating Erdogan, but not populism. But that’s a fine detail we can talk about later.

So, I think that definitely the arrest of Imamoglu, his lawyers, and a lot of his collaborators is an important damage inflicted on the prospects of a more pluralistic political scene in Turkey.

Imamoglu, during his time as Istanbul mayor, has really tried to engage with the grassroots in ways that no other politician has ever done. So I think arresting him is also a kind of condemnation of his political project—of talking with grassroots, of trying to empower and mobilize communities in ways different from the AKP’s.

Therefore, I do believe that it is also an attempt not only at his person, but at the model of politics that could emerge out of a possible victory by Imamoglu. Now we’re seeing a more naked, fully fledged authoritarian move in Turkish politics.

I’ve heard all these discussions about who will succeed Erdogan, and sometimes family appears to be first in these discussions. It indicates that even the fig leaf of competitive authoritarianism is dropping at the moment. But it’s a very fluid situation. The intentions of Erdogan and his advisers may not lead to the results that they want to achieve. I think the regime is the more rigid it is, the more easily it breaks in some ways. 

In your view, how has the personalization of power under Erdogan blurred institutional distinctions between the state, the ruling party, and the judiciary? Is the judiciary now operating more as an instrument of regime survival than of rule-of-law governance?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: Let me start from the judiciary, but I will go to the personalization in a minute. We’ve seen that the judiciary was the target of reforms and the target of a lot of meddling. Effectively, what was being planned was to render it less independent. We had all these kinds of promotions of different judges, the retirements of other judges, and so on. There have been pressures from time to time on the judiciary, so definitely the judiciary is no longer a means of checks and balances in the political system.

And this is the problem generally with the hyper-presidential system that Erdogan introduced. In some ways, there is no institution that has the gravitas and authority that the institution of the presidency has. Therefore, it’s not only the judiciary—even the Parliament, in many ways, although there are ways in which it can throw a spanner in the works, as we say—even the Parliament cannot really challenge the presidential dominance in the political system.

Now, if you add the personal charisma and its cultivation by Erdogan, the situation becomes even clearer. It’s not only an institution, but it’s also a president who in the past has spoken out against the courts. When the courts decided against him, he talked about the milletin iradesi—the national will—as superior to the courts’ legal rationale and thinking.

So we can see here that the personalization and the charisma that has been brought into politics is significant, even without the presidential system. But of course, now it is also institutionalized.

A final thought: I had written, when I was writing about Ataturk, that Ataturk had established a two-tier political system, in some ways. I’m simplifying now. One was, of course, the institutions of the Republic—the National Assembly and the party—and then two aborted experiments with the Liberal Party, and so on. And then there was another element—that was his person: the state as a person, and it was the person of Ataturk.

What I meant by this is that whereas the citizen in the villages of the Republic, would be harassed by the jandarma, would be suppressed in a variety of ways, then you would see Ataturk touring the countryside or the cities of the country and being the object or subject of adoration. He would hug kids, and he would talk to people in a charming way. I think Erdogan has done something very similar, and the personalistic element is crucial in that.

So there is a state that is really vicious—it can take passports away, put people into jail—and then you have Erdogan, who cannot do it as well as I think Ataturk did, but on the other hand, he is another facet of the state, unmediated. He talks to people, and he derives authority from this—not from his institutional position only.

Regime Insecurity and Western Complicity Feed Erdogan’s Authoritarian Drift

President of Turkey Recep Tayyip Erdogan arrives at the European Council building in Brussels, Belgium, on May 25, 2017. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.

Would you frame the current authoritarian escalation as a sign of regime insecurity ahead of critical elections, or as part of a calculated strategy to secure post-electoral permanence through managed democracy and repression?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: I would not distinguish these two because they can work together. So what I would say is that we had seen a calculated attempt already in the autumn,
when Bahceli talked about PKK leader Abdullah Ocalan visiting the National Assembly, and he said that he treated him as an interlocutor. At the time, I was arguing—and I had written an article that, however, was published very recently—I was trying to say that this was a sign for me that Erdogan and others were feeling insecurity, as they had seen that the Kurdish movement had supported the opposition tacitly in most elections in the past. Therefore, they needed to ensure that this would not continue—that the Kurdish parties, the Kurdish organizations, the PKK would not continue supporting the opposition—and thus they attempted this Kurdish opening, this attempt to bring Kurdish politicians to the table, while keeping Selahattin Demirtas, who would be a charismatic figure that could challenge this possibility, in jail.

So, I think already at the time we could see that regime insecurity was at the center of the thinking of the current political elite. It’s not only Erdogan, it’s all these people who have made fortunes under Erdogan, and they want to maintain impunity and those fortunes. Therefore, they are also insecure, and they have the ear of people close to Erdogan, maybe Erdogan himself. So that’s the first thing.

The second thing is that this also prompts the political leadership at the moment to think that in order to counter this regime insecurity, a system that would limit the possibility of a challenge—political, electoral challenge—to the current incumbents would need to be in place. And therefore we have this leap from regime insecurity to a more authoritarian system that would allow the durability of the current regime in one way or another, and the impunity of those who have managed to benefit from it.

So both.

Do you interpret the EU’s and US’s muted response to Imamoglu’s arrest as tacit legitimation, strategic pragmatism, or democratic fatigue? To what extent does Western inaction enable further authoritarian entrenchment?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: The West, especially the European Union, has a lot to do with the current situation. Already, in the first decade of the century, they were getting cold feet about engaging with Turkey regarding membership or some sort of closer union with the EU. Now, they are much more cynical. They have been treating Turkey—and Turkey has been treating them—in a transactional way.

Effectively, what the EU and the US have been doing is wanting Turkey to ensure that the masses of displaced people within its territory would not move towards the West. In view of the war in Ukraine and the broader threats coming from Russia, they also want Turkey to be a cornerstone of some evolving security policy. I find it difficult to see how this will happen, but that seems to be the logic within Western political circles.

In this sense, now that Turkey has become strategically important for various aspects of Western European security, there seems to be a willingness to turn a blind eye to what is happening domestically in the country. Imamoglu himself said this very clearly, castigating European leaders for doing nothing—not just for failing to support him personally, but for abandoning the broader hope of democracy in Turkey.

I believe there is a general democratic fatigue in the West, especially as many Western governments are dealing with their own populist challenges. In addition, they are wary of creating a rift with Erdogan. There are several reasons for this, including domestic electoral considerations—such as the influence of Turkish communities in countries like Germany, the Netherlands, and Belgium.

Erdogan has also been actively engaging in the Balkans, including meddling in Bosnian affairs. Western leaders want to mute this influence. At the same time, they want Turkey to feel that it can benefit from supporting the security architecture of the EU and NATO, and to distance itself from closer ties with Russia. As a result, they are largely disinterested in democratic resistance inside Turkey.

Erdogan Leverages East-West Tensions to Shield His Regime from Accountability

Russian President Vladimir Putin and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan made the opening of the Natural Gas Pipeline (Turkstream) in Istanbul, Turkey on November 19, 2018.

How does Erdogan’s external positioning—on migration with the EU, and regional geopolitics vis-à-vis Iran and Russia—insulate the regime from meaningful international pressure despite ongoing democratic erosion?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: Well, it relates to your previous question, but thank you for this, because it allows me to elaborate a bit more. I think that the positioning of Ankara toward Russia, Iran, and even Syria is quite significant, as it clearly reflects a strategy of leveraging different relationships to insulate the regime—from criticism and possibly even from sanctions. I’m not necessarily talking about economic sanctions.

Erdogan—specifically Erdogan, not necessarily Turkey—has been very skillful in cultivating relationships with both the Iranian leadership, including Khamenei and various conservative politicians, and with Putin. He has also played an active role in the Astana process dealing with the future of Syria, in which Iran and Russia have been central players.

So we can observe a two-pronged strategy here. First, Erdogan ensures that every time Turkey feels under pressure from the West, it can leverage one of these alternative relationships. Second, Turkey is simultaneously helping to develop and participate in institutions that undermine Western international influence.

For example, instead of engaging with the Geneva process on Syria, Turkey remains committed to the Astana process—a trilateral format involving three illiberal regimes deciding Syria’s future. More broadly, we now frequently see Turkey participating in efforts to build an alternative international institutional architecture—one that weakens those institutions capable of holding it accountable.

And lastly, Professor Sofos, how does Turkey’s trajectory under Erdogan challenge or confirm existing theoretical models of populist-authoritarian governance? Are we witnessing a uniquely Turkish path or a globally resonant pattern of democratic decay in hybrid regimes?

Dr. Spyros Sofos: Actually, I’m writing a book at the moment on this, and I am trying to argue that we can see similarities in the cases of Modi in India, Orban in Hungary—to some extent, although Hungary is not an emerging power like Turkey—and even in Israel, where very similar developments are taking place. The judicial reform attempt by Netanyahu could have been written by Erdogan, in many ways.

So what I’m trying to say is that, yes, there is definitely a uniquely Turkish way of building populism. I have struggled in the past to find ways in which the Turkish case can be meaningful for understanding populism, particularly authoritarian populism, more broadly. But leaving aside the particularly Turkish elements—like the century-long divide between those who benefited from the Kemalist reforms and those who were left behind—there is a kind of playbook that we can see being repeated or developed simultaneously in other parts of the world.

Turkey is one of the initiators of a number of political developments that are now being copied by other illiberal actors. But I also see a broader attempt to develop scripts of sliding toward illiberalism—what I would describe as an authoritarian version of populism. I should say, I consider populism—regardless of whether it is left or right—authoritarian in character. So I sometimes find it difficult to use the terms authoritarianism and populism together.

But yes, we can see this happening elsewhere, and therefore we are in for a rough ride. It’s not just one individual country that is affected. I think it’s about the way we are now thinking 

Donald J. Trump, the 47th President of the United States, at his inauguration celebration in Washington, D.C., on January 20, 2025. Photo: Muhammad Abdullah.

Professor Jones: Trump’s ‘Tariff Dictatorship’ Is Undermining the Global Trade Order

by EconomicsEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In an in-depth interview with ECPS, Professor Kent Jones warns that Donald Trump’s second-term trade strategy amounts to a “tariff dictatorship,” dismantling WTO norms and centralizing unprecedented power. “Trade has become a populist weapon,” says Professor Jones, “used to stoke anger and identify scapegoats rather than manage the economy.” He explains how Trump’s emotionally charged, anti-globalist rhetoric recasts trade deficits as existential threats while ignoring economic realities. Yet Professor Jones remains cautiously hopeful: “Globalization has faced downturns before. The human impulse to exchange and specialize endures.” As America retreats, he argues, others may step up. “If the US won’t lead, new trade alliances will form. But unpredictability is a burden—not a strength.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this timely and wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Prof. Kent Jones—Professor Emeritus of International Economics at Babson College and author of Populism and Trade: The Challenge to the Global Trading System—offers a sobering yet analytically rich critique of the Trump administration’s second-term trade strategy. Drawing on decades of experience and deep institutional knowledge, Professor Jones warns that the United States is no longer the steward of the postwar liberal trade order, but rather its chief saboteur. He argues that President Donald Trump’s erratic and hyper-personalized approach to trade—what he calls a “tariff dictatorship”—has effectively dismantled key pillars of the World Trade Organization (WTO), including most-favored-nation treatment and tariff binding, while concentrating unprecedented power in the hands of one individual.

Professor Jones emphasizes that trade policy, under Trump, has ceased to function as a tool of economic management and has instead become a populist weapon—repurposed to rally a nationalist, anti-elite political base through emotionally charged narratives about foreign threats and national decline. Trade deficits are recast as existential challenges, tariffs are imposed arbitrarily, and America’s longstanding commitments to multilateralism are eroded in favor of bilateral, loyalty-based deals that reflect Trump’s personal brand of grievance politics.

Yet amid this bleak portrait of institutional decay and populist distortion, Professor Jones also leaves room for cautious optimism. He underscores that globalization has weathered cyclical downturns before and that the human impulse to exchange, specialize, and cooperate across borders remains strong. While the US has stepped back, other actors—including the European Union, Canada, and emerging regional blocs—may step forward to rebuild a rules-based trade system, albeit imperfectly and without American leadership. Furthermore, Professor Jones suggests that the very unpredictability and economic pain caused by Trump’s tariffs may provoke renewed public scrutiny, mobilizing calls for Congress to reclaim its constitutional role in trade policymaking.

Ultimately, Professor Jones invites us to consider not only what has been lost, but what might still be recovered—provided that political institutions, civil society, and international alliances respond with resolve. As the world faces growing economic fragmentation, his insights provide a vital lens for understanding what’s at stake and how democratic societies might chart a path forward.

Dr. Kent Jones, Professor Emeritus of International Economics at Babson College and author of Populism and Trade: The Challenge to the Global Trading System.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Professor Kent Jones.

Trade as a Psychological Tool in Trump’s Populist Arsenal

Professor Jones, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How has trade policy been strategically deployed by Donald Trump as a tool of electoral mobilization? To what extent has the administration’s populist trade rhetoric succeeded in forging a durable political coalition that bridges economic grievances and cultural identity politics?

Professor Kent Jones: As I try to communicate in my book, Trump undoubtedly used trade as a strategic element of his electoral platform. However, it must be understood within the broader context of other grievances he exploited—particularly in the most recent election in November—many of which could be described as cultural. Immigration, for instance, was a major concern for many Americans. Inflation was also a key issue, even though it wasn’t as severe as Trump portrayed it; nonetheless, he promised to bring prices down. These issues were part of a larger constellation of concerns, including cultural ones—such as transgender politics—which, in my view, received disproportionate attention.

What Trump effectively managed to do was to construct a political package in which trade plays a central role in identifying a scapegoat—namely, the globalist elite—whom he claims is responsible for many of the country’s problems. To the extent that he succeeded in doing so, he was able to extend his appeal beyond his base of highly enthusiastic and passionate supporters to include individuals concerned with broader issues—such as border security. At the same time, he found it politically expedient to block Congressional efforts to address immigration, ensuring that the issue would remain salient within his campaign platform.

My focus on trade has always been that it’s part of a larger—perhaps psychological—set of issues that allows a candidate like Trump to say: “Look at immigration and what a problem it is. Well, trade is a very similar thing. Globalists have destroyed American manufacturing, just as immigrants have come in and polluted our population with foreign, unfamiliar, non-American elements.” These themes converge. Trade, as it turns out, is a very important part of Trump’s populist agenda. I don’t see this as a general populist tendency. Most of the other countries I studied in my book had governments led by populists, but many of them were small, open economies that did not have the capacity to use trade as a weapon in their populist platforms. For example, Israel, which currently has a populist government, is a small, open economy that remains broadly committed to free trade. You’re not going to see the same railing against the WTO and related institutions from countries like that as you did from Trump.

Now, regarding whether this is a viable coalition—I think that remains to be seen, because Trump has not kept his promises on bringing inflation down. The immigration problem has somewhat subsided, but he now appears to be focusing as much on that issue as on tariffs. For example, deporting Venezuelans to El Salvador—something that is constitutionally very questionable, and probably illegal. The Trump administration is now trying to position itself as being independent of rulings by courts, including even the Supreme Court, in pursuing its policies. There’s a multi-pronged effort by Trump to gain and concentrate more and more power, and trade is playing a role in that. I think this also reveals some weaknesses in his use of trade, because while people may be upset about jobs being sent abroad, they are equally upset about being charged significantly more—for automobiles, clothing, steel, and aluminum—as a result of his tariff plan. So, I see this as a Trump attempt to use trade politically, but not yet a successful one in cementing a durable populist coalition.

Anger as the Engine in Populist Playbook

Have we now entered the phase you previously anticipated, in which economic expertise in trade policy is increasingly eclipsed by emotionally charged populist narratives? Under Trump’s renewed administration, what specific events or discursive strategies are being used to reignite trade as an emotional flashpoint?

Professor Kent Jones: Yes, of course. In the study of populism, the issue of affect is important. If you can make people very angry, you’re more likely to be successful as a populist—and I think Trump has done that to a certain extent. I’m not sure whether this coalition—going back to your previous question—is very stable, but when it comes to trade, this is something that, as an economist, I’ve always lamented: the idea that a trade balance or imbalance is a valid justification for tariffs.

Trump has attempted to weaponize trade by claiming that foreign countries have, as he puts it, “cheated” and “ripped off” Americans over the past decades by causing the US to run a trade deficit. If you take a close look at his tariff formula, economists have thoroughly ridiculed it. It’s essentially a trade balance-based formula that imposes tariffs according to the size of a country’s trade surplus with the United States—purportedly to justify his so-called “reciprocal tariffs.”

But these tariffs aren’t actually reciprocal, because they don’t target foreign tariffs levied against US imports. Instead, they create a system in which Trump can identify grievances—some trade-related, some not—and then use them to pressure countries into negotiating access to the US market. In this way, he is attempting to weaponize trade by consolidating sole decision-making power over market access. I call it a “tariff dictatorship,” and this authority has, in many ways, been enabled by Congress. It is now backed by a Republican majority that refuses to challenge him effectively.

This is the context in which trade is being used as an emotional issue. For example, many people were bewildered when he claimed, “Canadians have been ripping us off for years.” Most people don’t have that view of Canada. It seems like a friendly country, and yet Trump portrays it as a dark force damaging the American economy.

So yes, I agree that the typical populist playbook relies heavily on affect—on stirring voters’ emotions, particularly anger. The angrier people are, the more likely they are to follow you. When I was conducting research for my book, I found that anger motivates voters more than anything else—even more than fear. If you can make them angry, you can get them to the polls. An angry voter tends to be a more reliable populist voter. Maintaining that level of anger is, therefore, key to Trump’s political strategy and success.

But the Achilles’ heel for any populist, in my view, is basic economic performance. Once a populist is in control of the government, he can no longer present himself as the anti-elitist, because he becomes responsible for policy outcomes. I think the danger Trump faces now with his tariff policy is that he’s making a lot of people nervous—and even angry—because their retirement accounts are being eroded, the bond market is collapsing, the dollar is weakening, and interest rates are likely to rise.

He’s tried to point back to Biden as the cause of these problems, but it’s increasingly difficult to do that when you, as a populist, actually control the White House and both houses of Congress.

At Its Core, This Is About Power—Not Policy

Would you argue that the appeal of ‘economic nationalism’ has now overtaken economic rationale as the dominant force shaping US trade policy?

Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly under Trump it has. The focal point of my book was the impact of all this on institutions. We’ve had tariffs before, and there are actually many Democrats who favor tariffs and may have been more reluctant to criticize Trump in principle for using them.

My argument—ever since these new tariffs began—is that regardless of whether you support tariffs, it is deeply problematic to vest all tariff authority in a single individual who can change them at will, for whatever reason he chooses, under the justification of an emergency economic powers act. Many now argue that this justification is not even legal, because its premise—that there’s a national emergency requiring tariffs as a solution—is questionable.

Just this morning, there was news of a new group of businesses suing the Trump administration over its use of tariffs, claiming it contradicts the very law invoked to support them. What we’re witnessing is the erosion of institutional checks and balances, with trade policy effectively centralized in one person.

There’s also a psychological factor to consider. When you have an individual with a narcissistic personality like Trump, who is used to getting his way, the accumulation of power becomes an end in itself. It enables him to exact revenge on perceived enemies, compel others to seek his favor, or pressure countries into buying more American goods or signing bilateral deals skewed in America’s favor.

So, at its core, this is about power. Trump has managed to concentrate it, and many voices are now calling on Congress to step up and reclaim the authority the Constitution grants it. According to Article I, Section 8, Congress—not the president—has the power to regulate commerce and trade. This is where the institutional battle lies, and it’s where the future of trade governance will likely be contested.

US Trade Has Become a One-Man Operation

Photo: Shutterstock AI.

Are we now witnessing the culmination of what you’ve described as the ‘de–legitimization of trade institutions’ in US politics? If so, what are the broader implications of continued US disengagement from multilateral trade frameworks for global economic stability and governance?

Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly—as long as Trump is President—we’re not going to see much engagement with the WTO in US trade policy. As I’ve documented in my book, and more recently in my commentaries on his tariff policy, Trump has already done away with key institutional principles of the WTO.

For example, he’s discarded the most-favored nation rule, which is foundational to the WTO framework. He’s also rejected tariff binding, the commitment that countries won’t arbitrarily raise their tariffs. These principles stand in the way of Trump’s pursuit of unilateral power. Once those constraints are removed, he can assign different tariffs to different countries’ products—entirely contrary to the GATT/WTO system—and negotiate individual agreements that maximize his own leverage.

Trump claims there are now 75 countries wanting trade deals with him, meaning he can sit down with each one individually, judge the outcome on his own terms, and adjust tariffs at will. There’s no need for congressional input or legislative approval—just Trump’s personal satisfaction. That effectively turns US trade policy into a one-man operation.

This is the antithesis of what the GATT and WTO systems were designed to prevent. Back in 1947, when the GATT was founded, the memory of the Great Depression and the tariff wars of the 1930s—especially the Smoot-Hawley Tariff Act in the US—was still fresh. The global economic community had learned that trade wars were harmful, and for 70 to 80 years, that lesson held.

Now, Trump has effectively resurrected the notion that “trade wars are good and easy to win.” He justifies this by pointing to America’s trade deficit, claiming that other countries will bear the cost. But in practice, the 145% tariffs on Chinese goods, for instance, are paid by American consumers. People are starting to realize this—whether it’s an iPhone that might jump from $1,000 to $2,000 or $3,000, a house built with increasingly expensive Canadian lumber, or an automobile that now costs $10,000 to $15,000 more due to a 25% tariff.

These developments are creating a growing crisis for Trump. That’s likely why he’s started pausing tariffs and promising “great deals,” and recently announced some product-specific exemptions—such as with Chinese imports and possibly with automobiles. He knows that if Americans can’t afford their cars, it’ll hit both foreign and domestic models hard, and even drive up the cost of used cars—something already affected by COVID-era supply shocks.

All of this contributes to an unpredictable trade environment, largely because Trump has assumed complete control over tariff policy. At this point, no one else is making trade decisions—just Donald Trump.

Tariffs Have Become Symbols, Not Solutions

3D illustration: Lightspring.

In Trump’s second term, how have tariffs been repurposed more as political symbols than as instruments of economic policy? How is the administration using revived trade rhetoric to frame persistent trade deficits as existential threats, and how is it justifying these measures politically despite their mixed economic outcomes?

Professor Kent Jones: Yes, this really gets to the core of the economic critique of Donald Trump’s trade policy. When you use a trade deficit as a justification for imposing tariffs, there is no theoretical basis for that in economics. Economists understand trade deficits as a macroeconomic phenomenon resulting from the imbalance between savings and investment in a country.

In the United States, the persistent trade deficit reflects higher levels of consumption relative to production, and lower savings relative to investment. When consumption exceeds production, the difference naturally comes from imports.

Trump tried to use this logic in his first term to justify a trade war with China, and now he has extended that rationale globally. But this effort was not successful. The tariffs did not significantly reduce the US trade deficit—not even with China. And as long as the structural imbalance between savings and investment persists, the trade deficit will remain.

Moreover, any reduction in imports from China led to trade diversion. Chinese firms simply rerouted production through third countries like Vietnam, Cambodia, the Philippines—even Mexico. For instance, Vietnam’s trade surplus with the US grew substantially. Trump is now using that as justification for imposing global tariffs rather than China-specific ones.

So trade deficits are being repurposed symbolically. Whenever Trump can point to a trade surplus from another country, he frames it as a hostile act against the United States. Many Americans, including politicians in Washington, still believe that having a trade deficit means the US is “losing.”

As I often point out in my classes, the US is not a company with a balance sheet—it’s 300 million individuals making consumption decisions. A trade deficit is like an individual going to the grocery store and spending money. That doesn’t mean the store is cheating you. Likewise, if Americans choose to buy Korean cars or Vietnamese clothing, that doesn’t reflect economic weakness or foreign deception. In fact, it’s often a sign of economic strength—of choice, affordability, and productivity.

Nonetheless, Trump has succeeded in convincing many people otherwise. But eventually, the economic consequences catch up. Americans are now seeing the costs in the form of higher prices—for phones, homes, cars, and everyday goods. The stock market and bond market, both globally integrated, are reacting negatively, and that’s something even Trump cannot control.

He’s trying to de-globalize domestic production, but reshoring takes time. Manufacturing shoes, nails, clothing—these can’t be brought back overnight. He says it’ll take six months or two years, but that’s highly unrealistic.

So people are starting to ask: when does the promised pay-off arrive? When will we see the benefits that justify the current pain—higher prices, falling stock values, a weakening dollar, and a diminished global economic reputation?

This is likely why Trump is starting to pause certain tariff measures and promise relief. The symbolic transformation of tariffs into a nationalist cause has been attempted—but economic realities are hard to avoid, especially when you’re the one in charge and can no longer blame your predecessor.

Uncertainty Is the New Normal for Global Trade and the Vulnerable Pay the Price

What socio-economic burdens are likely to be borne by ordinary citizens—both in the US and globally—as a consequence of the Trump administration’s erratic and politically charged trade and tariff wars? How do these unpredictable policy shifts impact everyday economic security, particularly for vulnerable populations?

Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly in the United States, one of the most significant developments in trade policy analysis has been the emergence of what we now call “uncertainty analysis.” In fact, indexes of trade policy uncertainty have become an increasingly prominent tool for tracking how markets react to Trump’s trade policies.

The original idea behind the WTO was to create stability. Everyone followed the same rules, and everyone benefitted from that predictability. These rules included non-discrimination and tariff binding—principles that gave businesses the confidence to invest in trade-related activities. If you were exporting to a foreign market, you could count on that market upholding WTO rules. If you were an importer in the US, you could similarly rely on your own government to follow those rules and not change tariffs arbitrarily.

There were, of course, accepted exceptions in the WTO framework—such as anti-dumping measures—but these were limited and rule-bound. That embedded liberalism allowed trade to flourish within a relatively stable system.

What we’re now seeing, however, is the erosion of that system. The socioeconomic consequences will come first through higher consumer prices. We’re already seeing that. Then, likely, through higher interest rates as global confidence in the US economy diminishes. And higher interest rates increase the likelihood of a recession, with all the accompanying hardships—job losses, reduced investment, and economic insecurity for average Americans.

Globally, the situation is equally troubling. We’re seeing punitive tariffs applied even to poor countries like Bangladesh, Vietnam, and Cambodia. In some cases—like Madagascar, which exports vanilla to the US—American trade officials are complaining that these countries don’t import US automobiles, using that as justification for tariffs. The logic is absurd and completely contrary to the idea of comparative advantage. Expecting a country like Madagascar to buy American cars in exchange for sending vanilla exemplifies the irrationality of these policies.

This kind of policy undermines the efficiency and fairness of the global trading system and inflicts economic pain on both developing nations and their trading partners. The decline in global trade efficiency will affect the most vulnerable—both at home and abroad.

As a result, other countries are beginning to rethink their trade strategies. We’re already seeing Canada and the EU discussing deeper trade ties with each other. And there’s emerging talk of building new multilateral frameworks that exclude the United States.

Of course, a global trading system without US leadership won’t be as effective. The US was, for decades, the anchor of global economic order after World War II. But with Trump’s retreat from multilateralism, we’re now seeing a broader pattern—one that also extends to military alliances. NATO, for instance, has been encouraged to think more about European-based defense. The war in Ukraine adds another dimension to this shifting landscape.

Altogether, this reflects a larger withdrawal of the US from global engagement. And that retreat has consequences. American stability and leadership added enormous value to global affairs. Take that away, and others will suffer—but it may also spur efforts to reconstruct international cooperation through alternative means.

Trump’s History Lessons Are More Political Theater Than Economic Strategy

How is trade policy being used in Trump’s second term to reinforce nationalist and anti-elite populist messaging, and what role do ‘chrono-political’ narratives—drawing on selective historical memory and future promises—play in sustaining public support for renewed protectionism?

Professor Kent Jones: We have a president who likes to use history for his own purposes. The more immediate history, of course, is that all of America’s current problems—including those Trump himself has created—are, according to him, really the fault of President Joe Biden. That’s one way he uses history: to convince people that during his first term, everything was a “golden age,” and then when Biden came along, everything fell apart. So, if there are problems now, don’t blame Trump—blame Biden.

Another interesting use of history—particularly for Americans who know their history—is Trump’s fascination with President William McKinley. Actually, not just President McKinley, but also Senator McKinley, a Republican from the 1890s who sponsored a major tariff bill. At that time, tariffs made up about half of US government revenue, since there was little in the way of income tax. Trump has used this historical reference to argue that we could eliminate income taxes altogether and rely on tariff revenue instead.

You may have seen news about Trump wanting to rename the tallest mountain in Alaska—Denali—back to Mount McKinley, because of this admiration. But historically, the McKinley Tariff was highly unpopular. After it passed, the Republicans lost many congressional seats in the next election because the public faced higher prices and increased industrial concentration. Trump doesn’t seem to think this historical lesson applies to him, but it’s already proving to be a similar liability.

So, we see a selective and manipulated use of history. The narrative is: “Look how great America was in the 1890s—look how we were growing, how proud people were to be Americans.” But in reality, that era had deep problems—racism, immigration tensions, and inequality—that tariffs didn’t solve. In fact, the introduction of a broader income tax in 1913 allowed the US to move toward a more liberal and successful trading regime. American economic growth since then has been strong—so why go back?

Trump continues to insist that tariffs are paid by foreigners, not Americans. He argues that this makes tariffs an ideal way to fund the US government—as if foreign countries are footing the bill. His advisors know this isn’t true, but you won’t hear them say so publicly.

In short, Trump is using history in a way that serves his populist message, but not very effectively. If he were a better student of history, he might find stronger justifications for his policies. As it stands, invoking the McKinley era and blaming “woke Democrats” for current issues doesn’t offer a coherent economic argument—especially when you consider that the US economy under Obama and Biden has actually performed quite well.

Trump’s China Policy Turns Trade into a Populist Proxy for National Decline

Photo: Shutterstock.

How does the Trump administration’s hardline stance toward China reflect a broader populist narrative of foreign threats and national decline? In the context of ongoing de–coupling efforts from China, how is this policy being used to mobilize anti-globalization sentiment and reinforce the administration’s appeal to its populist base?

Professor Kent Jones: It’s very interesting the way Trump seems to view China. On the one hand, he appears to admire President Xi as a strong, tough leader—something Trump seems to find admirable. At the same time, he insists that China has been “ripping us off” through its trade practices, largely because of the large volume of imports the US receives from China.

I think Trump has been surprised—and perhaps disappointed—by how assertive Xi has been in responding to US tariffs. Xi has made it clear he won’t back down. Trump would like to portray Xi as someone he can deal with—someone who respects him and will sit down to work out a deal. But if we look back at Trump’s first administration, we see how that played out.

The trade war Trump initiated in 2018, with escalating tariffs against China, did not, in fact, reduce the US trade deficit. By January 2020, Trump declared victory and announced a “Phase One” trade deal with China. This was essentially a countertrade agreement—China would commit to importing a specific value of US goods, and in return, the US would reduce tariffs. The goal was to balance bilateral trade flows.

But such a deal was never feasible. It would require a Soviet-style, government-managed trade system, completely incompatible with a market-based global trading regime. It violated WTO principles such as non-discrimination and the prohibition of quantitative restrictions. And ultimately, it didn’t work—COVID-19 disrupted global trade, and China didn’t meet its import commitments. Trump’s administration could blame COVID, but the agreement itself was flawed from the start.

Now, Trump claims that 75 countries are lining up to negotiate similar deals, and that he’ll finalize them within 90 days. Anyone with experience in trade negotiations knows that’s unrealistic. Bilateral trade deals are complex and time-consuming. My prediction is that we’ll see vague, formulaic agreements—pieces of paper promising balanced trade flows without any serious enforcement or economic logic behind them.

Trump may even try a version of this again with China. But the structural issues remain: we live in a world of complex technological interdependence, and the US cannot simply de-couple from China. Instead of trade wars, what we need is a return to multilateral cooperation. If the US worked with Europe, Canada, and other OECD countries, it could form a united front to pressure China into complying more fully with WTO rules.

China’s state-led economic model makes it difficult to enforce existing trade norms, but a coordinated multilateral effort could make progress. Unfortunately, the US—once the architect and guarantor of the global trading order—is now undermining it. That leadership vacuum is at the heart of the problem.

So to return to your original question: Trump’s framing of China as a threat fits squarely within his broader populist narrative of national decline and foreign exploitation. But his policies haven’t solved the trade imbalance—and now he’s trying to apply the same flawed logic to the entire world. He wants to control all trade through bilateral, Trump-approved formulas for balance, which are economically irrational and unworkable.

In the end, like many populist strategies, these deals may sound good in the abstract but will likely prove disappointing once implemented. The rhetoric may mobilize his base, but the economic outcomes could be far less favorable.

Globalization Is on Ice—But Far From Over

A metaphorical image depicting the US-China trade war, economic tensions and tariff disputes on imports and exports. Photo: Shutterstock.

And lastly, Professor Jones, in light of ongoing debates and speculation about the potential collapse or end of globalization, how do you assess the current trajectory of global economic integration, and what indicators do you consider most critical in evaluating whether globalization is truly in decline?

Professor Kent Jones: Well, certainly globalization is being damaged by President Trump’s policies—there’s no doubt about that. He’s taking the largest economy in the world, the original architect of the WTO and the postwar trade order, and essentially reversing its role. The WTO is now portrayed as the enemy by Trump and his followers.

So yes, globalization has clearly suffered. However, one thing I’ve learned as an economist—particularly from my early training in Geneva—is the value of taking a long historical view of trade. Trade has always gone through waves. Periods of free trade have often been followed by periods of protectionism, and vice versa.

Take Britain’s repeal of the Corn Laws in the 19th century, which ushered in an era of freer trade and economic expansion built around the British Empire. The US came on board later. Then came the Great Depression, which triggered a new wave of protectionism. The post-WWII creation of the WTO system marked another liberalizing wave. Now, with the resurgence of economic nationalism and protectionism, we appear to be in another downward swing.

That said, globalization has always required flexibility. The decline of some industries must be managed so others can emerge. In the 1800s, this adjustment was relatively smooth. But the entry of China into the global economy in the 2000s created a massive shock—its capacity to produce across a wide range of sectors was something even the US struggled to adapt to quickly.

We also cannot ignore the role of technology. Are we really going to return to an economy of cobblers and factory floor workers in an age of robotics, AI, and complex supply chains? It seems unlikely. I think it all circles back to what Adam Smith said about the innate human tendency to “truck and barter.” Even before language, early humans were trading. We’ve always valued specialization and exchange—and I believe that instinct endures.

Suppressing globalization won’t eliminate that fundamental impulse. If the US abandons its leadership role, others will step in. We may see regional trade agreements emerge as partial substitutes for global ones. It’s not a perfect replacement, but it’s better than nothing.

Technological progress is also linked to globalization. If you halt global exchange, you risk slowing innovation. Still, I believe there’s opportunity. Many countries that once focused heavily on trade with the US will begin looking elsewhere. China may try to lead, but many are skeptical of that. Perhaps another leadership structure will emerge—or perhaps we simply wait until 2028, when some hope the US will again elect a president who values multilateralism and stable partnerships.

What Trump doesn’t seem to understand is that unpredictability, which he views as a strength, is actually an economic burden. It erodes trust and undermines investment. The global economy thrives on rules and stability—not arbitrary decisions.

So, to return to your question: Yes, globalization has been put on ice for now. But I don’t think it’s over. There’s still a strong drive—among individuals, firms, and governments—to rebuild trade networks. Even if US leadership is absent, globalization will find ways to adapt and re-emerge.

Protest in Istanbul

Dr. Tas: Coercion Has Become the Erdogan Regime’s Default Tool of Governance

by AuthoritarianismEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In this compelling interview with ECPS, Dr. Hakki Tas argues that repression—not legitimacy—has become the Erdogan regime’s default mode of rule. Highlighting the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, Dr. Taş contends that Turkey is moving further from competitive authoritarianism toward full authoritarian consolidation. As electoral legitimacy weakens, coercion fills the void, revealing a regime reliant on fear, control, and chrono-political narratives to survive. “Remaining in power,” Dr. Tas says, “is the only survival strategy.” This conversation explores the strategic logic behind repression, the shrinking political arena, and the uncertain future of ailing Turkish democracy.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Hakki Tas, Research Fellow at the German Institute for Global and Area Studies, offers a sobering assessment of Turkey’s democratic trajectory under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Dr. Tas argues that “coercion has become the Erdogan regime’s default tool of governance,” signaling a shift in strategy where repression, rather than consensus or legitimacy, undergirds the government’s hold on power. This growing reliance on coercive mechanisms reflects not only the regime’s authoritarian drift but also its deepening vulnerability in the face of economic instability and eroding public support.

In Dr. Tas’s view, the political elite in Turkey face a stark reality: “remaining in power is the only survival strategy.” With dwindling economic resources, declining electoral popularity, and limited institutional buffers, Erdogan and his allies find themselves increasingly dependent on repressive tactics to maintain control. The arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, widely seen as the most viable opposition figure, exemplifies this logic. For Dr. Tad, such moves do more than target individuals; they erode fundamental democratic principles by narrowing the space for political competition and undermining voter choice.

Indeed, Dr. Tas highlights the regime’s systematic efforts to degrade electoral competitiveness. While Turkey has retained the formal trappings of multiparty elections, the conditions required for genuine democratic choice—such as “electoral vulnerability,” “electoral availability,” and “decidability”—have been steadily dismantled. The elimination of high-profile opposition figures like Imamoglu not only tilts the playing field but also challenges the very notion of Turkey as a competitive authoritarian regime. As Dr. Tas succinctly puts it, “calling Turkey’s regime ‘competitive’ is increasingly difficult to justify.”

Beyond specific political maneuvers, Dr. Tas situates these developments within a broader authoritarian logic—one that employs what he calls a “chrono-political strategy” to frame every election as an existential battle for the nation’s soul. Through an intricate weaving of past grievances, present insecurities, and imagined futures, Erdogan casts challenges to his rule as threats to the entire Turkish polity. This blend of populist narrative-building, strategic repression, and institutional erosion has enabled the regime to survive despite mounting internal and external pressures.

This interview explores the implications of Imamoglu’s arrest, the fragility of Erdogan’s political toolkit, and the possible futures of ailing Turkish democracy. At stake is not only the fate of one politician or election, but the broader question of whether Turkey can still lay claim to competitive politics—or whether it has entered a new phase of authoritarian consolidation.

Dr. Hakki Tas, Research Fellow at the German Institute for Global and Area Studies.

Here is the transcription of the interview with Dr. Hakki Tas with some edits.

Calling Turkey’s Regime ‘Competitive’ Is Increasingly Difficult to Justify

How does the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu fit within the broader trajectory of democratic backsliding in Turkey, and does it signify a critical turning point toward full authoritarian consolidation, or does it remain within the bounds of competitive authoritarianism?

The competitiveness of the regime in Turkey has been in question not only today but throughout the last decade as well. While Turkish elections have long been marked by significant contentiousness, this indeed does not necessarily translate into genuine political competition. True competitiveness requires conditions such as electoral vulnerability (where incumbents can realistically be unseated), electoral availability (where voters are open to changing party preferences), and decidability (where parties offer distinct and clearly communicated platforms). 

Nevertheless, by potentially eliminating the most prominent challenger from the electoral arena, the jailing of Imamoglu further undercuts each of these core democratic prerequisites. While Turkey has not yet crossed into fully authoritarian rule, actions like arresting leading opposition figures push the system closer to outright authoritarian consolidation, and the adjective “competitive” to describe the current regime becomes increasingly tenuous.

For Turkey’s Ruling Elite, Staying in Power Is the Only Survival Strategy

To what extent can Imamoglu’s arrest be interpreted as a reflection of Erdogan’s growing political insecurity in anticipation of the 2028 elections, rather than an expression of consolidated authoritarian control?

These two dimensions—growing political insecurity and authoritarian tendencies—often intersect, since remaining in power is the only survival strategy for the current political elite. The insecurity itself is clear: with economic resources depleted, Erdogan can no longer dispense patronage to his base as effectively, nor can he weave compelling narratives that resonate with voters and align with his domestic or foreign policy choices. Consequently, if he cannot win the minds and hearts of the masses, coercion becomes his default instrument. Of course, such reliance on repression highlights the fragility of the regime. Repression may not be the most effective tactic, but it probably is the only remaining path to maintain power.

In the light of Erdogan’s declining popularity and the ongoing economic crisis, to what degree can the regime continue to depend on electoral legitimacy, or is it likely to increasingly abandon the electoral route in favor of more authoritarian mechanisms?

Erdogan faces a fundamental conundrum when it comes to sustaining electoral legitimacy amidst dwindling popularity and deepening economic woes. Unlike many of his autocratic counterparts, he cannot rely on a rentier economy to placate key constituencies, nor can he fully count on a steadfast, loyal military to neutralize dissent. In this context, elections—no matter how constrained—have long served as a principal source of legitimacy. The semblance of competitiveness has permitted Erdogan to maintain at least a façade of democratic governance, preserving his rule without incurring the immediate costs of blatant authoritarianism.

Yet this tactic cuts both ways. Without holding elections, Erdogan risks forfeiting any claim to popular legitimacy, leaving him reliant on repressive mechanisms that are by no means guaranteed to remain loyal. At the same time, the very act of putting his government to an electoral test brings the danger that genuine opposition could mobilize sufficiently to threaten his grip on power.

When Parties Fail, the Streets Speak

Protests in Turkey.
Thousands gathered in Istanbul on March 23, 2025, to protest the arrest of Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu. Photo: Sedat Gulec.

How might a potential state-led intervention in the CHP—modeled after kayyum-style trusteeship—reshape the Turkish party system and transform the landscape of opposition politics?

This would only underscore the fact that the traditional institutional mechanisms of political mediation have long been obsolete in Turkey and could further legitimize street-level mobilization. Dismantling the CHP’s autonomy would not only deepen the regime’s authoritarian tilt but also galvanize citizens to challenge the government outside the confines of a party framework, amplifying the prominence of direct action in shaping Turkey’s political future.

Given Imamoglu’s capacity to mobilize broad, cross-ideological support, what are the strategic implications of his removal for the Turkish opposition’s ability to mount a viable electoral challenge?

Imamoglu is one of the Turkish opposition’s most versatile and unifying figures, whose cross-ideological appeal had begun to transcend traditional fault lines; however, this broad support did not necessarily constitute a robust coalition committed to full democracy. Moreover, the regime has strategically sought to keep the political and ideological fissures among the opposition intact—most notably by attempting to reconcile with Kurdish political actors. Nonetheless, Imamoglu’s ability to attract diverse groups demonstrated a tangible path toward a more inclusive opposition discourse, one that could, at least temporarily, bridge political cleavages around a common goal. The opposition leaders have performed well so far.

From Twin Enemies to Universal Threats

How does the post-2016 securitization of political opposition compare to earlier state narratives targeting the Gulen movement, and in what ways is this logic now being extended to opposition figures such as Imamoglu?

The post-coup securitization narrative has intensified and broadened the regime’s ability to label virtually any dissent as a threat to national security, building on earlier campaigns against the Gulen movement and Kurdish groups. Historically, it was relatively straightforward to demonize these constituencies by invoking entrenched suspicions of political Islam and Kurdish nationalism—“twin enemies” in the public imagination. 

Compared to its anti-Gulen campaign, the government has deployed similar tactics—such as dehumanizing language, terrorism accusations, and show trials—; extending such rhetoric to figures like Imamoglu, however, proves more challenging, given his secular and broadly appealing profile. The scope of securitization continues to expand, as seen in the Gezi trials, and likely will intensify further, reinforcing polarization, when the support of the majority is not viable.

In what ways is the Erdogan regime deploying chrono-political narratives—fusing past, present, and future—to legitimize authoritarian measures against the opposition in the lead-up to the 2028 elections?

Currently, Erdogan lacks a popular grand narrative to frame recent developments. Instead, he taps into center-right and conservative sentiments with rhetoric about “street terrorism.” Meanwhile, pro-government media and figures recirculate default anti-Kemalist tropes, constantly reminding the AKP base of the 1997 “postmodern coup” and emphasizing the AKP’s role as the champion of an “Anatolian Revolution” against the vestiges of “Old Turkey” represented by the CHP. By melding past grievances with current insecurities, this chrono-political framing casts state crackdowns as the preservation of a people’s revolution rather than an assault on democratic norms, thereby embedding present events in a broader narrative of conflict between a secular Kemalist elite and Muslim Anatolian people.

In a Post-Truth Arena, Victimhood Becomes the Most Potent Political Weapon

What does the political discourse surrounding Imamoglu’s arrest reveal about Turkey’s ongoing shift toward post-truth politics, in which narrative construction increasingly overrides evidence-based governance?

The discourse surrounding Imamoglu’s arrest illustrates Turkey’s deepening post-truth environment, in which the regime’s narratives often eclipse factual evidence through a deluge of fake news, half-truths, and conspiracy theories. Despite its formidable control over media outlets and intensified censorship of opposition voices, the government’s ability to craft a cohesive, persuasive message appears weaker compared to earlier high-stakes moments like the 2013 Gezi Protests or the aftermath of the 2016 coup attempt. This relative disarray in the official narrative highlights the regime’s further reliance on post-truth tactics to obfuscate the truth.

How does Erdogan’s portrayal of Imamoglu align with populist strategies that frame challengers as enemies of “the people,” and how does this dynamic intersect with Imamoglu’s own populist appeal?

Erdogan’s populist messaging has long relied on a Manichean division that pits “the people” against an allegedly subversive elite. Initially aimed at the Kemalist establishment during the 2000s, this rhetoric evolved to target foreign “dark forces” and domestic opponents, situating any threat to the AKP’s dominance within a grand narrative of external conspiracies seeking to weaken Turkey. In presenting Imamoglu as insolent and dismissive of the popularly elected government, Erdogan reinforces this populist framework, albeit in a manner that appears increasingly strained. The irony lies in removing a democratically elected mayor through what many view as politically motivated charges while simultaneously accusing him of undermining democracy—a strategy meant to maintain Erdogan’s self-image as the authentic representative of the public’s will.

Imamoglu, however, employs a form of counter-populism by depicting Erdogan’s regime as the entrenched new establishment and urging disparate groups marginalized under the AKP’s rule to unite. In this sense, he challenges Erdogan on his own turf, effectively turning the populist dichotomy back against the incumbent. Moreover, the very act of arresting Imamoglu grants him the victimhood status that has historically served Erdogan well, endowing Imamoglu with the same potent political currency of victimhood and moral high ground.

How Erdogan Weaponizes Crisis to Sustain Power

Turkey’s President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Photo: Shutterstock.

To what extent is anti-Western rhetoric being utilized to domestically legitimize the arrest of Imamoglu, and how does this tactic align with the AKP’s broader strategy of politicizing foreign policy?

Despite the AKP’s reliance on anti-Western rhetoric to legitimize controversial domestic and foreign policy moves throughout the 2010s, Erdogan has been more circumspect in explicitly invoking such themes to rationalize Imamoglu’s arrest. Some pro-government outlets have circulated conspiracy theories linking Imamoglu to foreign plots; however, Erdogan currently appears to prioritize pragmatic relations with both the European Union and the United States. This shift partly stems from renewed Western interest in Turkey’s security partnership against Russia, as well as the transactional dynamic that characterized Erdogan’s rapport with US President Donald Trump. In other words, while anti-Western discourse remains a familiar tool in the regime’s arsenal, Erdogan has downplayed it in favor of current diplomatic gains and economic considerations.

Nevertheless, the broader AKP strategy of politicizing foreign policy remains evident in the potential use of external conflicts as a diversionary tactic. Historically, Erdogan has displayed a capacity to refocus domestic anxieties onto external threats, thereby consolidating his base. If Imamoglu’s arrest triggers wider unrest, the regime may revert to stoking regional tensions and rally the public under a unifying, antagonistic narrative. Given the volatile regional landscape—replete with ongoing conflicts—there is ample opportunity to leverage foreign policy crises to overshadow or justify heavy-handed measures at home.

Does Imamoglu’s arrest represent a calculated moment within Erdogan’s chrono-political strategy to frame the 2028 election as an existential national struggle, and how does this timing contribute to the construction of a long-term authoritarian myth?

Erdogan’s repeated depiction of every electoral contest—with remarkable examples such as the December 2015 general elections and the 2017 constitutional referendum—as an existential choice for the nation epitomizes a populist politics of time. In this framework, the present becomes a decisive juncture between a promised utopia of national triumph and an apocalyptic scenario of total annihilation, all hinging on the leader’s continued rule. Imamoglu’s arrest, then, can be seen as another attempt to situate the 2028 election within this broader chrono-political strategy. Erdogan is undoubtedly a master of chrono-populism, a skill that has helped him become one of the longest-serving populist leaders in world history.

However, sustaining perpetual vigilance among the public is costly. If Erdogan cannot deliver tangible rewards beyond the mere avoidance of catastrophe, voter fatigue over these endless existential crises may erode the very support he seeks to reinforce. The timing of Imamoglu’s arrest, therefore, not only reflects a calculated bid to sustain a grand authoritarian myth but also risks overextending the populist device of crisis mobilization—leaving the regime vulnerable to disillusionment from an electorate that grows weary of ever-present emergency narratives.

Ekrem Imamoglu, Kemal Kilicdaroglu, Recep Tayyip Erdogan

Prof. White: Erdogan’s Arrest of Istanbul Mayor a Sign of Insecurity—And That Makes It More Dangerous

by AuthoritarianismEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In a comprehensive interview with ECPS, Professor Jenny White calls the arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu “absolutely… a sign of insecurity”—not strength. Professor White warns that this preemptive strike ahead of the 2028 elections reflects “regime fragility,” not confidence, adding: “If this stands… voting ceases to have any real meaning.” Drawing on her concept of “spindle autocracy,” she explains how personal loyalty has overtaken institutional merit, creating a brittle, fear-driven system. With Erdogan’s popularity fading and international pressure weakened, Professor White argues, “This is a line that has now been crossed”—one with dangerous consequences for Turkey’s democratic future.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a wide-ranging and incisive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Jenny White—renowned anthropologist and scholar of Turkish politics at Stockholm University—explores the deeper implications of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu’s arrest and what it reveals about the current phase of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s authoritarianism. “Oh, absolutely—it’s a sign of insecurity,” Professor White declares. “And that makes it all the more dangerous, because this is a line that has now been crossed.”

This stark assessment lies at the heart of Professor White’s reflections on how Erdogan has evolved from a populist reformer to an embattled strongman. The arrest of Imamoglu—widely seen as the opposition’s most viable presidential contender in 2028—is not an act of confidence, but of regime fragility. “If this stands… and especially if the party itself is taken over, then voting ceases to have any real meaning,” she warns.

Professor White locates this shift within a broader trajectory of democratic erosion in Turkey. Drawing from her concept of spindle autocracy, she describes a system where loyalty to the leader has eclipsed merit and institutional integrity. “You cannot disagree. If you disagree, you are a traitor,” she says, noting that once individuals fall out of favor, they are discarded—spun out like raw wool from a political spindle.

Far from being the first rupture, Imamoglu’s arrest is a culmination of earlier moves: the post-Gezi crackdown, the co-optation of the judiciary, and the mass purges following the 2016 coup attempt. “At this point, there are really no institutions left around Erdogan that have competence, aside from loyalty to him,” Professor White states.

The sense of insecurity extends beyond domestic calculations. Professor White suggests that global shifts, including the return of Donald Trump, have reinforced Erdogan’s sense of impunity. “Erdogan has nothing to fear from US censure… I’m quite sure Trump would support that kind of move,” she notes. The European Union, too, finds itself in a bind—caught between supporting human rights and preserving strategic ties with Turkey.

Despite Erdogan’s waning popularity, the fear of retaliation—and the AKP’s entrenchment in every layer of society—limits open dissent. As Professor White concludes, “You can’t forget that Erdogan still has a lot of people willing to vote for him—not necessarily because they’re passionately in love with him, but because they’re afraid of what happens if he’s gone.”

This interview sheds urgent light on the authoritarian logic of fear—and what happens when that fear governs.

Professor Jenny White, renowned anthropologist and scholar of Turkish politics at Stockholm University.

Here is the transcription of the interview with Professor Jenny White with some edits.

Turkey Is a Roller Coaster—Who’s on Top and Who’s Not Constantly Shifts

Professor White, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In your articles, you describe Turkish political life as a “horizontal topography of action” rather than a vertical model of oppression and resistance. How does this framework help us better understand Erdogan’s consolidation of power post-2016 coup attempt?

Professor Jenny White: Well, I think of politics both in micro terms and over the long term. So, if you think of politics as just what’s happening now, you can try to clarify who’s on top and who’s on the bottom. But if you look at it even in just a slightly longer time frame, you see that the constituents of “Up” and the constituents of “Down” don’t stay the same. They, especially in a place like Turkey, are almost like a roller coaster. For a long time in the 20th century, the secular Kemalists were on top, and they were able to, or they tried to, determine how the rest of the population should live according to their standards. A lot of people went along with that because they also agreed with it. Those who didn’t were, you know, the religious, the peasants, the ones who lived in Turkey and tried to do well for themselves but often found that being religious or from the countryside was a drawback when it came to moving ahead. At some point, I think it was in the 1960s, you weren’t allowed to wear a headscarf in a civil service job or even to visit someone in a state hospital. Eventually, you weren’t allowed to wear a headscarf to go to university.

For many people who had been left out of the nation’s vision of progress, that was the ultimate insult. Not only were they kept down because they were peasants or migrants to the city, but they were also not allowed to practice their religion if they wanted to participate in modern society. There was this profound sense of being disenfranchised, being oppressed by the elites who, at the time, were trying to raise everyone up. So, depending on where you’re looking from, it’s determined by the observer. What’s the position of the observer in making the determination of who is oppressed or who is the oppressor? Then, of course, in the 1980s, the Islamist party started winning local elections and then national elections, representing these disenfranchised people. They came to power, and now we have the AKP. The AKP, in turn, decided to impose on the population their view of how one should live. It’s a different part of the population now.

Again, depending on who the observer is, you could either feel oppressed or say that those are the oppressors. It’s a roller coaster, with who’s on top and who’s not. Then, if you take it down another level, you look at people who are otherwise the same, like the followers of Fethullah Gulen and the members of the AKP. Before that, the Refah Party (RP) consisted of lower-middle-class merchants—not really merchants, but more like business people—and later on, they became wealthy. These were the people who had managed to step up in the new 1980s economy. They felt empowered, believing they were now on top. The Fethullah Gulen followers were heavily involved in all of this. They worked together with the government, had their own version of what they were doing, but in many ways, culturally and religiously, in terms of piety, they were indistinguishable from the AKP followers. So, you would think they wouldn’t be differentiated, but they fell afoul of the AKP, became the “bottom,” were hounded out of existence, and declared terrorists.

The scary thing for a lot of people was that you couldn’t actually know who was in and who was out, who was up and who was down. Your neighbor wore a headscarf, and you wore a headscarf. You were culturally identical and had known each other for years. How do you know who is on the up and who is on the down? There was also a culture of snitching. If you didn’t like your mother-in-law, you could snitch and claim she was a Gulenist, and then watch her fall. This is not the usual up-and-down scenario, which stems from a liberal leftist view that the world is divided into people who are oppressed—the poor, the minorities—and then the oppressors. In reality, the oppressed themselves can oppress others. It’s much more complicated than that. 

There Are No Institutions Left—Only Loyalty

In your analysis of “spindle autocracy,” you argue that personal loyalty to a leader has replaced institutional merit. How has this dynamic reshaped Turkey’s political institutions and public trust in them since the executive presidency was introduced?​

Professor Jenny White: Thank you. That’s a good question. But all I can think of right now is the US. This is so applicable. You can see the spindle forming, and just the idea of spindle autocracy, or spindle politics, as I ended up calling it, is that you move from being a country where people look at the politicians, and they may like or dislike the politician, but they look at the policies. “I like the policies of this politician, too. I like this politician.” To “I love this politician because this is an incredible outpouring of emotion, a passionate emotion that’s much more than simply liking your politician.” And I don’t really care what his policies are. I go with them because they are things that he wants us to do.

That’s an enormous difference, and the implications of that are also enormous. Because if you have a political leader who is a spindle autocrat, surrounding himself with people who are loyal as the first criterion, whether or not they are competent shouldn’t be beside the point, but often is. In the Kemalist era, there has always been a kind of big-man authoritarianism in Turkey, starting with Ataturk—the love of the leader. Atatürk is the beloved leader throughout, but whenever individuals like Menderes, Demirel, and Ozal, for example, came along, there was this attachment to particular leaders, including leftist leaders who are now icons.

So, I’m not saying this is something new with the AKP. These are old habits of power, big-man autocracy, and authoritarianism. All of this is wrapped up in a kind of patriarchy: “the devlet baba,” the state as your father, which is now personalized as Erdogan, your father figure. Intolerance of difference—people don’t like things that are different, or people who are different—has always been present in Turkey. But what is different now is the character of this central leader, right?

The styling. Another thing that’s been around for a long time is the styling, where the leader presents himself as both a hero and a victim—the heroic victim who is there to take care of you like a father. Erdogan embodies all of this, as did the leaders before him. But the difference now is that he has sort of forgotten the part where he takes care of the family. It’s almost as if remaining the leader has become a purpose in itself. All the pomp and circumstance surrounding the presidency now just feed resources and attention to the central figure. There are really no institutions left around Erdogan that have competence, aside from loyalty to him.

Obviously, not everyone is incompetent, but Erdogan has removed anyone he deemed disloyal. This started happening in the late 2000s. At one point, the Gulen movement, which had significant influence within the police, went after some of Erdogan’s family members for corruption and they wanted to arrest the government’s emissary who was traveling to Europe to negotiate a peace deal with the PKK. Erdogan didn’t like that, which caused a clash within the government.These individuals were part of government institutions, and the Gulen movement was singled out. Erdogan’s government then targeted the Gulen movement, leading to what became almost a feud—back and forth—culminating in the 2016 failed coup attempt. These were the people who had surrounded Erdogan at the beginning, and they moved down on the roller coaster, while the people who moved in were not necessarily known for their competence.

 One of the major consequences of a system like this is that nobody can disagree with the leader. In a normal political situation, even in an authoritarian context, you have advisors, right? They can discuss things with you and disagree. But in this case, because the relationships are all personal—based on loyalty and passionate devotion to the leader—you cannot disagree. If you disagree, you are a traitor. “Hain,” or traitor, is a term often thrown around in Turkey, and even though it’s used frequently, it’s always taken very seriously. If you are labeled a traitor in the newspapers, you could be arrested. It’s not something said lightly, but traitors emerge every minute, because people will disagree with what the leader is doing, and then they go down on the roller coaster.

So, it’s a very unstable system, even though it looks like it should be stable because of the strongman structure. But if you look closer at the micro level, there are always people moving in and out. If you think of the spindle, for those who don’t know, a spindle is a stick on a string that twirls, and you take raw wool and spin it until it turns into yarn that you can use to knit a sweater. Think of the raw wool coming from the sheep as the recruits who get involved around the leader, and as they do, they network and become obedient. They get “cooked in,” and then, as inevitable breakups happen, they split off. Even though it looks stable—with this leader who is always there—and if you look back in time, you’ll see many spindles, names of leaders, but you don’t see what was happening around the spindle, the people moving in and out.

Today It’s Gulenists, Tomorrow Someone Else

On 20 July 2016, Turkey’s Islamist-populist President Recep Tayyip Erdogan declared a state of emergency, enabling him and the AKP cabinet to bypass parliament and rule by decree. The crackdown on possible coup plotters has since been turned into an all-out witch-hunt not only against alleged Gulen sympathizers but also leftists, Kurds and anyone critical of the government.

You note that Erdogan’s regime revived the “threat paradigm” once used by Kemalists, but with updated targets like the Gulen movement. How do these manufactured inside/outside enemies influence popular support and the regime’s legitimacy?

Professor Jenny White: I think it’s something that is deeply embedded in the Turkish educational system. Children learn from a very early age that there are enemies. In the Kemalist days, that was quite overwhelming, and the enemies—there’s a whole list of them—were foreigners, the inside enemies. These were the non-Muslim minorities who, because they’re not Muslim, can’t possibly be loyal to the Turkish state and are probably working together with non-Muslim or Christian outsiders to undermine Turkey, as they had done in World War I. Some people call it the Sèvres syndrome.

So this is a serious issue that has affected the population, partly through the educational system but also through the media. It’s always present—it’s in everything, you know, even the soap operas. Even the Ottoman-era soap operas contain this underlying distrust of non-Muslim foreigners, especially Christians.

But again, on a micro level, it takes different forms, right? I’m just thinking of an example. One of the biggest threats to Turkish national unity in the 1980s and early 1990s, according to the Turkish military, was missionaries—Christian missionaries. There were almost no missionaries in Turkey. Why would this even be a thing, let alone one of the biggest threats to national unity?

It’s because it’s not really about the missionaries per se, even though some of them were actually killed or attacked by people. They were a symbol of a Christian West that is believed to be out to destroy Turkey. That’s what people believe. And you could be Jewish, you could be gay, you could be any one of the many categories of “other”—and still be lumped in. Or Armenian, right? So those are all kinds of insults when used in this way—as someone who is out to get Turkey. And they’re interchangeable.

So it’s not the particular people or the particular category that’s a threat. It’s the fact that there is this threat—it’s existential—and the category that belongs to the threat is constantly fungible. So you don’t ever hear about missionaries anymore. It’s as if that never happened, even though it was a serious thing for many years.

Now you hear about Syrians or the Gulenists—another new threat category. They’re considered an even greater threat because they are the enemy within: they are also Muslim and look just like you. So it’s a way to polarize the population. And in polarizing the population and the other political parties—because everyone feels like they have to take a stand on these issues—for many years, the CHP, the main opposition party, was in step with everyone else in demonizing both the external and internal enemies.

Well, they’ve moved away from that. Okay. But they still were—then they got on the bandwagon that everyone else was on, saying negative things about the Syrian refugees or the Kurds. Now there’s an attempt by the AKP to reach out to the Kurds in a way that I’m not sure is believable, because nothing has been given to the Kurds in return for Ocalan’s speech—or request—that the PKK lay down its arms.

But what this does is split the CHP. It also splits the Kurdish party, the DEM Party. It’s like—are they going to support the CHP candidate for president, or are they going to sit it out and see whether they can get anything in return from the AKP for what Ocalan said? 

So it’s not really a matter of fearing; it’s a matter of using fear to create division. And division is always useful in politics.

It’s Competitive—Unless There’s No More Competition

How would you characterize the current political regime in Turkey following the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu? Has the country now fully crossed the threshold into competitive authoritarianism—or something more consolidated?

Professor Jenny White: I think Turkey has been in a state of competitive authoritarianism for a long time now. Competitive authoritarianism means you have elections that are contested—parties like the CHP compete, other parties compete—but it’s not a level playing field.

Ninety percent of the media in Turkey is owned by pro-government businesses. So, if there’s an election, the CHP might—if they’re lucky—get a couple of minutes on TV, whereas the rest is all AKP, all the time. They’re not even allowed to put up posters. So, while technically competitive, the system is heavily skewed.

But it’s still “competitive” in the sense that you could, against all odds—very long odds—still win, as Imamoglu did. And then, of course, we know—was it in 2018? I’m bad with dates—but in the local election Imamoglu won, Erdoğan didn’t like the result, so he had it rerun. And then Imamoglu won again, with an even greater number of votes.

So, it is possible. But if you now arrest Imamoglu—and there’s been talk of appointing a kayyum, or the government effectively taking over the CHP, replacing its leadership with government-appointed trustees—then there’s no more competition.

Right? That’s it. It’s a competitive authoritarian regime—unless there’s no more competition.

Erdogan Will Do Whatever It Takes to Stay in Power

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan has transitioned from being a model of democratic political Islam to an Islamist populist autocrat. Photo: Mustafa Kirazli.

Erdogan’s authoritarian turn has evolved in phases over the past two decades. What would you say distinguishes this current phase from earlier moments of democratic erosion, such as post-Gezi or post-2016?

Professor Jenny White: You know, I was doing research in Turkey at the time the AKP was elected, and I had already done a lot of work with the previous parties. But when the AKP first came to power, it was a completely different scenario.

There was a lot of talk about what kind of Islam they represented. It was framed as a personalized Islam—practical and pragmatic. The message was: we’re pious Muslims at home, but we make decisions in office based on practical concerns, not Islamic ethics. They emphasized that while their personal ethics might inform their conduct, policy decisions would not be based on religious doctrine.

That was the beginning. And Erdogan also reached out to non-Muslim minorities. There was a sense of progression, a feeling that genuinely heartened people—that finally, we had something different, a new way of doing politics.

It felt like, maybe for once, whoever was at the top wouldn’t force everyone to conform to their lifestyle or their values. That perhaps, finally, there could be some kind of pluralism.

But it didn’t last very long. The first major turning point came with the attempt by the police to arrest people in Erdogan’s close circle on corruption charges. That was a crucial moment—because his response was to essentially co-opt the judicial system. He transferred judges to remote parts of the country where they would be unable to act effectively. He fired prosecutors and lawyers, and replaced them—if I remember correctly, around 5,000 new lawyers were brought in. These were individuals who were, in a sense, in his pocket—closely aligned with him, loyal to the system he was building. They were, as it were, attached to the spindle—being drawn in and reshaped to fit a new judicial order.

So now, you don’t really have a free judicial system, as we see time and again. The same pattern occurred with people accused of being part of “FETO,” the Gulen movement. Once the movement was designated a terrorist organization, many individuals—some with no real connection to Gulen—were swept up in the crackdown.

They went through the process regardless, often without due process. Their passports were confiscated; they became social pariahs. People didn’t want to associate with them—even their own families distanced themselves out of fear of being implicated.

Many lost their businesses, which were taken over by the state. They lost access to social security. They became, in effect, non-people—despite the absence of any fair or reliable judicial process to prove wrongdoing.

Right? So then it just continued down that path. And I think the shift was driven largely by a reaction—a fear on Erdogan’s part that he was going to be overthrown.

If you remember, there was also Tahrir Square and other uprisings happening across the region. So when Gezi Protests happened, he interpreted it as part of the same wave of dissent. And then, of course, in 2016, there was an actual coup attempt.

I think all of this stems from a deep fear of falling—from a fear of being deposed. And so, he’s been willing to do whatever it takes to maintain power. As long as he could keep getting elected—which he did, because he remained quite popular—it wasn’t really a problem.

But now, he’s not so popular—largely because the economy has been in terrible shape for many years, due in part to his own brand of voodoo economics. Of course, some people have become very wealthy under this system, but the majority of Turks—regardless of background—are now at the bottom of the roller coaster.

Even if they haven’t been arrested, many are just barely managing to get by. Right? So I think his popularity has declined to such an extent that he knows if he were to go up against a candidate like Imamoglu, he would lose.

Voting Ceases to Have Any Real Meaning

Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu at the Gazi Race award ceremony at Veliefendi Racecourse in Istanbul, Turkey, on June 30, 2024. Photo: Evren Kalinbacak.

Many observers see the arrest of Imamoglu as a ‘preemptive strike’ against opposition in the lead-up to the 2028 elections. Do you see this as a sign of regime insecurity or confidence?

Professor Jenny White: Oh, absolutely—it’s a sign of insecurity. And that makes it all the more dangerous, because this is a line that has now been crossed. If this stands—if Imamoglu, who is the CHP’s candidate (and clearly targeted for that reason), and who would have won or likely will win an election—is arrested and removed from politics, and especially if the party itself is taken over, then voting ceases to have any real meaning.

From the beginning, Erdogan has taken great pride in being the voice of the people. “I am the voice of the people.” He’s long been proud of his popular support—“People love me.”

And again, thinking of the US as a parallel, the size of the crowds matters. The optics of mass support matter. So the fact that he can no longer rely on that is telling. Most importantly, it shows that he knows he can no longer rely on that. There’s no bringing the people back unless something dramatic happens—like an economic miracle.

So the other option is simply not to hold an election. If you can’t win it, don’t have one. But that would be a monumental step for Turkey. It might not seem so dramatic in countries without a strong tradition of democratic elections, but Turkey is different. For years, I’ve observed how proud Turks are of their elections—of having the ability to elect or remove their leaders. It means a great deal to them. It’s not something they could easily give up, and I think that pride is being reflected in the streets right now.

That said, it’s mostly young people who are out there—many others are not. And that’s because young people have nothing to lose. They truly have nothing. They see no future for themselves under this government, under a regime where, unless you know someone in the ruling party, it’s nearly impossible to secure a decent job—even with a good education.

Surveys show that around 50% of young Turks want to leave the country. This was from a couple of years ago, and I remember one survey that even looked at party affiliation—it turned out that many of those young people were AKP-affiliated. So even AKP youth want to leave, because the prospects are so bleak. Put simply: they have nothing to lose.

Their parents, on the other hand, have a lot to lose. Over the past 20 years, the AKP has embedded itself so deeply into the Turkish economy and society that many people’s livelihoods now depend on being affiliated with or supportive of the party.

Whether you’re working as a civil servant or one of the women hired to rake grass—as part of a charity-style initiative distributed by the municipality to earn a bit of money—the AKP is present at every level of interaction between the state and the citizen.

They have also co-opted much of civil society. So the fear people feel is quite realistic—if the AKP falls, if Erdogan loses the election and the CHP comes to power, what will happen to me? Will I still have a job? Will they do what everyone else has done—replace the old people with their own?

For many—especially the poor, who are just barely getting by—it’s an enormous risk. Right? So I think you can’t forget that Erdogan still has a lot of people following him or people willing to vote for him, but not necessarily because they’re passionately in love with him.

The Sense of Impunity Has Emboldened Authoritarians

And lastly, Professor White, how might the return of Donald Trump to the US presidency influence Erdogan’s authoritarian behavior? Would it embolden similar tactics and reduce external democratic pressure on Turkey?

Professor Jenny White: I think it already has. Apparently—though it wasn’t officially confirmed—Erdogan and Trump had a phone call just a few days before the arrest of Imamoglu. I’m almost certain Trump said something like, “Oh yeah, go ahead”—no problem. Why would he object?

This sense of impunity has emboldened authoritarians around the world. Erdogan has nothing to fear from US censure—no expectation that Washington will hold him accountable for his human rights record or for arresting political opponents. In fact, I’m quite sure Trump would support that kind of move.

The European Union is in a different situation. But it’s also connected to Trump—because now that he’s pulling back from the US’s commitments to European defense and traditional economic relations, Europe has to reassess its strategic alliances. It doesn’t have to, but I think it would be smart for Europe to recognize how important Turkey is—not only for European defense and NATO, but perhaps in other ways as well.

If the US is no longer a reliable partner, Europe needs to look elsewhere and build its own strong networks. And Turkey will always be a key player in any such network.

So Europe finds itself in a difficult position. Even though it genuinely cares about human rights, and about Imamoglu—who, for many, represents a liberal democratic future—they’re not in a position to speak out forcefully, because they need Turkey.

And Turkey also holds a very strong position in Syria right now. So, if Erdogan is going to take this kind of action, this is a strategic moment to do it.

Le Pen & Bardella

Professor Marlière: The Far Right Has No Free Pass to Establish a Dictatorship in France

by Editor’s ChoiceExtremism & RadicalisationHomeInterviews

In this timely and incisive interview, Professor Philippe Marlière (UCL) discusses Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the limits of far-right populism, and the resilience of democratic institutions in France. While Le Pen’s narrative frames her disqualification as a “denial of democracy,” Professor Marlière warns against buying into this rhetoric. “Politicians are not above the law,” he asserts, adding, “The far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” A must-read on the legal, political, and symbolic stakes of France’s 2027 presidential race.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Philippe Marlière of University College London offers a trenchant analysis of Marine Le Pen’s conviction, the broader rise of the far right in France and Europe, and the fragile boundaries between democratic politics and authoritarian temptation. Known for his work on French and European politics, Professor Marlière opens the conversation by sharply distinguishing between fascism and the far-right populism embodied by Le Pen’s Rassemblement National (RN). “I would describe Marine Le Pen’s National Rally as a far-right party,” he says, stressing that although it is “reactionary” and “nativist,” it is “not fascist” in the classical sense, since it operates within existing democratic institutions.

The interview takes on greater urgency in the wake of Le Pen’s conviction on corruption charges and her disqualification from running in the 2027 presidential election. According to Professor Marlière, the ruling represents a “major blow” not only to Le Pen personally—who was widely seen as a leading contender—but to the party’s claim of moral superiority over the political establishment. “The conviction is so clear-cut,” he notes, “and her defense so weak,” that overturning the verdict on appeal seems unlikely.

At the heart of the conversation is the far right’s delicate balancing act between anti-establishment rhetoric and the imperative to appear legitimate within democratic norms. Marlière cautions that while Le Pen and her allies may frame the ruling as “a denial of democracy,” they have not dared to attack the judiciary wholesale, because “if she does, she risks being seen as undermining French justice and being pushed back to the political fringe.”

This fragility, he argues, reveals the limits of populist authoritarianism in France. “In a democracy, when you are a politician, you must respect the decisions of the judiciary,” he insists, citing Montesquieu’s separation of powers. And that is why, he concludes, “the far right has no free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.” Voters may be willing to punish the mainstream, but they are not prepared to dismantle liberal democratic institutions in the process.

Dr. Philippe Marlière, Professor of French and European Politics at University College London.

Here is the transcription of the interview with Professor Philippe Marlière with some edits.

RN Is Nativist, Reactionary, Far-Right—But Not Fascist

Professor Marliere, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: You’ve distinguished between authoritarianism and fascism in recent analyses. Given Le Pen’s ideological evolution and her party’s increasing parliamentary power, where would you situate her movement today?

Professor Philippe Marlière: Well, I would describe Marine Le Pen’s National Rally (RN) as a far-right party. If you want to place it on the left-right axis, as political scientists typically do, it clearly falls on the far-right. That’s also how many people in France perceive it today. Le Pen herself resists the “far-right” label, as it implies being on the fringe or extreme end of the political spectrum. However, that is how pollsters and the media commonly categorize the party. So yes, it is far-right.

It’s not fascist. I don’t think the National Rally can be described as a fascist party. Fascism is something quite specific. You can find fascism today in some countries and in some parties, but I don’t think the National Rally is fascist. I would call it nativist. The main concern of the National Rally is the support, through policies, of the indigenous population—the French—as they describe it, as opposed to non-French people or migrants. So: nativist.

Probably reactionary. Much of the National Rally’s policy and ideology seems aimed at returning to a past—often an idealized or even mythical version of the past—that France, in reality, never fully experienced. A past, of course, with fewer migrants and fewer foreigners. In that sense, it is reactionary.

The party used to advocate policies that were decidedly illiberal. For a long time, it supported the death penalty, opposed abortion, and stood against LGBTQ rights. It has evolved on these issues, and that’s likely something we’ll discuss further. In sum: reactionary, nativist, far-right—that’s how I would describe it.

Fascism, as I’ve said, is different. It involves the attempt to establish a totalitarian regime. It can promote racial politics and undermine or directly challenge the rule of law. I don’t believe the National Rally is currently inclined to do that—although, of course, once in power, they might attempt to.

That said, within the current political context, the National Rally appears to be a party that, if elected, would operate within the main institutions of France and Europe. It would likely cooperate with European partners within the European Union. For all these reasons, it is a far-right party, but not a fascist one.

A Major Blow to the RN’s Anti-Establishment Credibility

How do you assess the political implications of Marine Le Pen’s conviction and subsequent disqualification from running for office in 2027? Given the National Rally’s efforts to portray itself as a respectable, anti-corruption alternative to the political establishment, to what extent does this judicial outcome represent a decisive rupture in the party’s quest for power—and could it destabilize its electoral momentum ahead of a crucial presidential race?

Professor Philippe Marlière: Le Pen’s conviction—alongside that of up to 20 party members, mostly elected representatives in the European Parliament—is undoubtedly a major blow. It’s especially significant for Le Pen herself. She might not be able to run in 2027. As far as I’m concerned, I don’t think the decision will be overturned on appeal. She likely won’t be a candidate, so someone else will have to step in.

For now, she’s fighting to clear her name, but the conviction is so clear-cut, the corruption charges so substantial, and both her defense and the party’s defense so weak, in my view, that overturning the verdict will be extremely difficult.

This is a serious setback for Le Pen, particularly because she was seen as having a strong chance of winning the 2027 presidential election. It now seems increasingly unlikely that she will be able to run.

But more broadly, it’s also a significant blow for the party. As you mentioned, it has increasingly been seen as a normalized political force—no longer on the extreme fringe, but rather as a party whose ideas, members, and officials have gradually gained a degree of legitimacy. I wouldn’t go so far as to say it fully belongs to the political mainstream—not yet, not entirely—but to some extent, it is certainly no longer the early National Front of Jean-Marie Le Pen, the party that once frightened a large portion of the public.

So it’s a major blow for the party because part of its appeal lay in being increasingly perceived as no longer extreme by a majority of voters—or at least by a solid base of 37 to 40% of the electorate—while simultaneously remaining highly critical of the system; that is, the other mainstream parties, which it portrayed as corrupt and part of a de facto coalition responsible for poor governance in France and for the French people.

So, of course, being convicted and found guilty of corruption is a major blow, especially since much of Le Pen’s rhetoric has focused on attacking other parties—branding them as corrupt, accusing them of collusion, and portraying them as operating within a deeply flawed system. Now, that very charge is being applied to her.

There is evidence, and according to the first opinion polls, many people now view the National Rally as a corrupt party—or at least believe that the initial conviction handed down by the judges last week was justified.

Politicians Are Not Above the Law

Marine Le Pen and Jordan Bardella are seen at the end of a polical meeting in Marseille for Rassemblement National party on March 3, 2024. Photo: Obatala-photography.

In a democracy, how should we balance judicial independence with the political fallout when a leading presidential contender like Marine Le Pen is barred from running due to financial crimes? Do you see this ruling as reinforcing or undermining public trust in French institutions? Moreover, is there a risk that—even if legally justified—it will fuel far-right conspiratorial narratives about ‘elites’ silencing dissent? How should mainstream parties navigate this moment without inadvertently legitimizing those populist frames?

Professor Philippe Marlière: As you would expect, Le Pen’s defense—and the party’s defense—was to claim that this is a denial of democracy, that the conviction was politically motivated, that the judges are politicized, and that the goal is to bar her from running because she would likely win. That’s what she said at a large rally last Sunday at Place Vauban in Paris. She made these claims, and throughout the week, Le Pen and her supporters have continued to repeat them. Of course, that is their narrative. But that doesn’t mean the narrative is true. In my view, it should be taken with a large pinch of salt and critically examined.

Let’s start with the heart of the matter. What is that? It’s the conviction of Le Pen and her supporters. She is guilty—guilty of a serious act of corruption. Several million euros of public funds were diverted to fake jobs. So we begin with that fact: she is guilty.

However, I believe that, with the support of some media outlets in France—not all, but some—the discussion has shifted away from Le Pen’s conviction and guilt toward a debate about politicized judges and an alleged denial of democracy. I remain very skeptical, if not outright critical, of Le Pen’s narrative, because it seems to me that the judges simply did their job: they applied the law.

By the way, who passed the law—the one that led to Le Pen’s conviction and its immediate effect? It was the lawmakers themselves. A bill was passed in Parliament in 2016. So it was people like Le Pen who voted for that law. They wanted to be extremely harsh on individuals convicted of acts of corruption.

That’s why I think it would be useful to bring the debate back to the heart of the matter: Le Pen’s conviction. She was found guilty of a serious act of corruption. And secondly, the judges simply did their job. To claim that they politicized the process is incorrect—they applied the law.

This also demonstrates something important: politicians are not above the law. They are treated like ordinary citizens—and rightly so. Why should a politician—even someone intending to run for the presidency, with a real chance of winning—be exempt from the law if condemned by French justice?

That’s the real issue. That’s what we should all be reflecting on, instead of defaulting to claims like “the judges are politicized,” and so on. In my view, that is the real question.

Undermining Justice Would Push Le Pen Back to the Political Fringe

Marine Le Pen has characterized her conviction and political ban as a ‘denial of democracy,’ echoing a broader far-right populist tactic of depicting institutions as tools of political repression. In the light of your critique of ‘political nudges’ like the ‘Islamo-gauchisme’ narrative, do you see a danger that the far right will now instrumentalize this legal verdict to delegitimize the French judiciary and fuel deeper mistrust in liberal democratic institutions?

Professor Philippe Marlière: I think it will be difficult to do that. They have probably already tried—particularly Le Pen. If you heard her speak last Sunday in Paris, when she addressed a rally of supporters, she was, of course, very harsh in her response to the judgment. She said, “Of course I’m innocent, this is a denial of democracy,” and so on. She also claimed that the judges who made the decision were politicized.

But she didn’t, so to speak, issue a broader criticism of the French judiciary. She didn’t say, for example, that the entire justice system is corrupt. She avoided that, because doing so would amount to directly challenging the French judicial system as a whole—and that would be quite serious.

It would indeed be highly problematic for a leading contender for the highest office in French politics to undermine the judiciary through such criticism. In a democracy, when you are a politician, you must respect the decisions of the judiciary. Failing to do so means interfering with justice—and that is a very serious matter.

The French political philosopher Montesquieu, in the 18th century, wrote about the separation of powers—executive, legislative, and judiciary—and he said that no power, executive or legislative, should be in a position to interfere with or encroach upon the power of the judiciary. If you do that, it’s no longer a democracy; it’s a tyranny. So justice must remain independent.

That’s why Le Pen will be very careful before launching a broader attack on the justice system. So far, she hasn’t done that. Some of her supporters have likely been less cautious, but she herself has been careful not to place blame on the judiciary as a whole. Instead, she has focused on specific individuals—the judges who issued the ruling—claiming, for instance, that the presiding judge was a leftist.

But this is a difficult line for Le Pen to walk. She cannot push too far in that direction. If she does, she risks being seen as undermining French justice and, as a consequence, being pushed back to the political fringe. Her opponents will say, “Look, you’re clearly not part of the mainstream. If you were ever elected, you would interfere with the justice system.” And that, of course, would be very serious.

Le Pen Must Defend Herself Without Undermining the Rule of Law

Given your work on the ‘dé–diabolisation’ or “de–demonization” of the Rassemblement National and the normalization of the far right in France, do you think Marine Le Pen’s conviction and political ban will disrupt this process—or could it paradoxically bolster her image as a political martyr and reinforce the RN’s anti-establishment appeal? Does this verdict pose a serious challenge to the RN’s attempt to position itself as a credible party of governance, or might it instead deepen its populist narrative of being targeted by a hostile elite?

Professor Philippe Marlière: Again, this is a difficult situation for Le Pen to handle, because she will, of course, try to defend herself. She has already filed an appeal, and I believe it will proceed very quickly—much faster than it would for ordinary citizens. Normally, an appeal takes two to three years, but in this case, it is scheduled for next year, which is unusually swift.

Why next year? Because it allows time for a decision to be made before the presidential election. This gives Le Pen one last chance to run—if she is cleared on appeal. In that sense, it also serves as further evidence that the judges, or the French justice system more broadly, are not conspiring against her. On the contrary, the legal process is offering her another opportunity to stand as a candidate.

So it’s a very difficult situation, because they have to be extremely moderate in their criticism of the justice system; otherwise, they risk being seen as a party that challenges the rule of law and the independence of the judiciary. They simply can’t afford to do that. Someone like Donald Trump may be doing so in the US and getting away with it for now—but in France, where Trump is, by the way, quite unpopular, that approach would not be well received.

So the room for maneuver for Le Pen and her party is quite limited. She can say, “I’m innocent, I’m going to appeal, the judges who made the decision were unfair,” but they cannot go much further than that. They cannot openly criticize the judicial system as a whole.

That’s why I think, in terms of image—since that’s your question—if we look at the initial opinion polls, of course, these will need to be confirmed over time. But according to the polls, people don’t seem to have changed their minds. The party remains quite high in the rankings, and Jordan Bardella appears to have, roughly speaking, the same level of support as Le Pen.

There are two distinct points here. First, it’s clear that the National Rally is currently the leading party in French politics. That was evident in the last two elections—the 2024 European election and the general election—where the party came out ahead of all others.

That’s one thing. The other is the judicial decision. And I think, overall, the opinion polls show that the French public believes the decision was fair. That’s why Le Pen can’t make too much noise about it. It’s seen as a fair judgment. French voters appear to believe that no one should be above the law—including national politicians. If they’ve done something wrong, they should be punished like anyone else would be in similar circumstances.

A Far-Right International Is Emerging—But It Won’t Help Le Pen

In the light of the vocal support Marine Le Pen has received from international right-wing figures like Donald Trump and Elon Musk, to what extent does this signal the emergence of a transnational populist narrative centered on judicial persecution or ‘lawfare’? Are we witnessing a growing global solidarity among populist leaders who frame legal accountability as political victimization by elite institutions and the consolidation of a transnational illiberal alliance?

Professor Philippe Marlière: Well, very likely. The initial signs suggest that there is a kind of de facto reactionary or far-right international that has rallied in support of Le Pen. I think all the major figures—key leaders of that movement in Europe—came out: Orbán in Hungary, Salvini in Italy, Trump, J.D. Vance, Bolsonaro. Many of them made public statements. Even Trump tweeted.

He probably doesn’t know Le Pen very well—perhaps not at all—but someone likely mentioned the case to him, so he tweeted in her support. Of course, he did so because these kinds of far-right leaders seek to undermine the rule of law in liberal democracies. They challenge judicial decisions whenever those decisions go against them, and that’s precisely what Trump has been doing in the US. So, this was more of an opportunity for them to do just that, rather than a genuine expression of support for Le Pen herself.

But yes, there is a de facto far-right international. And every time a decision appears to deprive far-right politicians of power—or simply goes against them—they tend to rally in support of that politician, as they did in this case.

What does that mean, concretely? I think this kind of reaction doesn’t clearly indicate what the future holds, one way or another. It remains very uncertain. When I refer to a far-right international, it shouldn’t be compared to something like the Socialist International, where organized parties met regularly and committed to shared policies. It’s not that structured. It’s more at the level of national leaders or heads of state issuing statements, especially via social media.

So yes, she received that support. But what does it mean for Le Pen in France? I don’t think it means much. As I mentioned, Trump is deeply unpopular in France—on both the left and the right. Almost no one likes him. So I don’t believe receiving support from those far-right figures will benefit Le Pen. I think she has to be very careful. Le Pen wants to be seen as more mainstream, so if she appears to be in cahoots with, or too close to, highly controversial politicians abroad, I don’t think it will help her.

Far Right Is Rising—But Too Divided to Replace Le Pen Easily

Le Pen & Bardella
Leaflets featuring candidates for the 2024 legislative elections in Versailles, France, on June 28, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.

From the French perspective, does Le Pen’s downfall create space for a new figure on the European far-right, or is her symbolic centrality too embedded in the populist narrative across Europe to be easily replaced?

Professor Philippe Marlière: This highlights the central challenge facing the far-right in Europe. The far-right has been steadily growing—making electoral gains, winning elections, and even holding power in several countries. To start with Europe: they were in power in Poland; they remain in power in Hungary and Italy—a major EU country—and Le Pen and her party are performing very well in France. The AfD in Germany has also been doing well. So there is a clear, steady rise of the far-right, marked by significant gains in the most recent European elections.

That’s one of the reasons why the far-right is no longer seriously considering leaving the EU if it were to come into power. They’ve realized they can fight from within and attempt to redirect the EU’s political course.

So that’s good news for the far-right. However, does this translate into greater coordination or cohesion among far-right parties and governments in Europe? Not necessarily. For example, there are at least two parliamentary groups in the EU that include far-right parties. They were unable to form a single group, which, of course, weakens their influence because their efforts are divided across multiple blocs.

It’s also well known that far-right leaders do not necessarily get along well; they do not necessarily work together. For instance, Marine Le Pen is close to Salvini and La Lega but doesn’t get along well with the Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni—which is strange, because Giorgia Meloni has a legacy that is more similar to Le Pen’s. They both come from far-right parties initially. Of course, they’ve evolved somewhat and are now a little bit different. But whereas La Lega initially wasn’t a far-right party when it was created in the 1990s, it became a far-right party. So it’s very strange, and I can’t necessarily explain the logic of these de facto alliances between far-right leaders and parties.

I think it often comes down to their positions on policy, but it’s also about whether the leaders get along personally. I believe it’s more the latter. And that, in itself, is telling. Political scientists often say that the left has trouble uniting—and if you look at the French left right now, that’s clearly the case. They can’t come together.

But it seems the far right also struggles to unite, for similar reasons: ideological differences and personal rivalries. So this is where things stand at the moment. The far right has become more successful recently, but it remains divided. It is not a unified movement. Instead, it’s a collection of far-right parties spread across various parliamentary groups in the European Parliament—groups that don’t necessarily cooperate well or work together effectively.

Bardella Isn’t a Le Pen—But He May Be Even More Radical

Jordan Bardella, Le Pen’s protégé, is poised to become her replacement. Based on your analysis of generational shifts within the European far right, do you see Bardella as a mere avatar of Le Penism by remaining dependent on the Le Pen name, or does he represent a potentially more radical or technocratic trajectory?

Professor Philippe Marlière: There are differences between Le Pen and Bardella. First of all, he’s not a Le Pen. If Bardella runs in 2027, it will be the first time since Jean-Marie Le Pen launched the National Front in 1972 that no Le Pen is running for the FN/RN party. That’s the first difference.

There’s also a generational difference. Le Pen is 56, and Bardella’s youth could be appealing—particularly to younger voters—by presenting a new, youthful face of leadership. But of course, there’s a downside: he is politically untested and very inexperienced. He’s not known as a strong debater or a skilled orator. Reaching that level in politics takes time—it requires years of experience. Le Pen has improved over the years, and with Bardella, it would be a very different proposition.

There are also political differences. I think Le Pen has been—and still appears to be—more supportive of the de-demonization strategy. Unlike her father, she hasn’t attempted to shift the party to the center—the National Rally remains firmly on the far right—but she has worked to make some of its flagship policies on immigration, Islam, and the interpretation of French laïcité more acceptable to a broader segment of voters.

To make them more acceptable to other parties as well, because de-demonization works both ways. It involves you, as a far-right party, refraining from using aggressive rhetoric or making racist statements—things that generally do not resonate well with the electorate. But it also involves your opponents shifting to the right and adopting some of your policies, particularly on issues like immigration.

So there are differences, as Bardella appears to be somewhat more radical on those issues. His economic policies also differ; he’s more like Jean-Marie Le Pen of the 1980s and 1990s—more neoliberal, more supportive of laissez-faire economics than Marine Le Pen. So, you might think these are merely cosmetic differences.

And who knows what will happen if we assume that Le Pen won’t run? Bardella seems to be in a good position—he holds a strong position as the party leader. But who knows? Something might change. Other candidates might try to enter the race, and there could even be a primary election within the party.

Think, for instance, of Marion Maréchal, the niece of Marine Le Pen. She left the party a few years ago to join Éric Zemmour, but now she seems to have taken a step back from him as well. She attended the rally on Sunday in Paris in support of Le Pen. Who knows? She’s very popular among party voters. She’s a Le Pen, even though she no longer uses the name—she’s Marion Maréchal-Le Pen—and for that reason, her presence could be significant. She’s also a better orator than Bardella.

So, who knows what might happen? Bardella appears to be the front-runner to replace Le Pen, but we might be in for a surprise.

Marion Maréchal and Éric Zemmour
Portrait of French politician Éric Zemmour with Marion Maréchal (formerly Le Pen), leader of the Reconquête party, seen in Toulon during a protest against the arrival of the migrant rescue ship Ocean Viking. Photo: Laurent Coust.

Le Pen’s Legal Struggles Will Have a Limited Impact on Europe’s Far-Right Strategy

And lastly, Professor Marlière, what ripple effects might Le Pen’s conviction and framing as a martyr have on sister far-right movements in Europe, especially in states like Italy, Hungary, and Germany? Could it embolden them or shift their strategies? Do you think this case and its framing could be used by other European populists to delegitimize legal institutions, especially in countries where the rule of law is already under strain?

Professor Philippe Marlière: I might be a little optimistic on this, but I don’t think it will have a significant impact on the political situations in other countries. Of course, some will use Le Pen’s case to talk about so-called politicized judges, to claim a denial of democracy, to argue that the “true patriots”—as they describe themselves—are being sanctioned by their opponents, that they can’t speak the truth to the people, that they are restricted and constrained. You know, all the usual arguments.

I think they might refer to the Le Pen case in national debates to make those points. But I’m optimistic in the sense that each national context is different. And besides, the pace of politics today is very fast. In a few months, who will still be talking about Le Pen’s conviction?

There will be the appeal, so in a year or so, it may come back onto the agenda. But if the appeal is upheld, I think people will move on—there will be a replacement, another candidate, probably Bardella—and Le Pen will be quickly forgotten.

That’s one thing. The other reason I’m optimistic is that, as I said earlier, Le Pen has to be very careful about criticizing the judges and the justice system—not to be seen as undermining the rule of law—because that would be an extreme move. It would place her in a very radical position, one that most of the electorate, particularly conservative voters who are not far-right, would likely reject.

These are the voters who, in the second round of a presidential election, might be tempted to vote for Le Pen or someone from the National Rally against, for instance, a left-wing candidate—if one were to make it to the runoff. This electorate is conservative, right-wing, but not far-right. The National Rally needs to keep them on board and continue appealing to them. If they can’t—if they lose that electorate—they will never get elected. That’s why they have to be extremely cautious. And I think the situation is the same across most European countries—Italy, probably—with one exception: Hungary.

Hungary has been governed by Orbán for a long time, and many people say that while elections still take place, they are not very fair. It’s a highly authoritarian regime—illiberal. So, probably with the exception of Hungary, where the opposition is now quite weak due to all the laws passed by Orbán’s government, I think in other countries there are still counterpowers—opposition parties, trade unions, the media, and most importantly, the public—the electorate.

It’s not because the electorate is putting the National Rally ahead in France that they want an authoritarian regime. It’s a very complex reality to grasp. I think supporting the far right in France today means, above all, rejecting the other parties—both left and right. People believe those parties were once in power and failed. They tried Macron, and they believe he failed too. So it’s more about the idea: let’s try the only party that has never governed—the National Rally.

But that doesn’t mean voters want an authoritarian regime, or a government that will curb public freedoms or take extreme measures. That’s why Le Pen can’t see herself as the new Trump. I don’t think being a Trump figure would go down well in France. Then again, you might say, in the US, who could have predicted what happened there?

You see, that’s why I’m optimistic. But of course, things can sometimes go wrong very quickly. Still, that’s my view. I think that for Le Pen and the party to be successful and ultimately win an election, they will have to stick to their strategy of de-demonization—which means no longer being seen as an extreme or threatening party—so that enough people will be willing to vote for them.

Of course, they will maintain their policies—against immigration, against Islam, and against a number of other things—but they do so because they believe there is probably a majority of people who could support those positions. Just enough. That’s their strategy. It doesn’t mean they have a free pass to establish a dictatorship in France.

Protests in Turkey.

Dr. Cevik: Turkey Has Crossed the Critical Threshold from Competitive to Full Authoritarianism

by AuthoritarianismEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In a compelling interview with ECPS, Dr. Salim Cevik argues that Turkey has “crossed the biggest threshold from competitive authoritarianism to full authoritarianism.” Highlighting the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu, Dr. Cevik sees it as a targeted move to eliminate democratic competition: “He is being arrested because he could potentially defeat Erdogan.” Populism, once central to Erdogan’s rule, is giving way to raw coercion: “Force is the fundamental strategy of Erdogan.” Dr. Cevik also condemns Western silence, especially from Europe and the US, warning that their inaction amounts to complicity. “Erdogan feels very strong… because he has international backing.” Drawing a parallel with past mistakes on Putin, he cautions: “You can’t really trust a personal autocracy for strategic partnership.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a wide-ranging and sobering interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Salim Cevik—Political Scientist and Researcher at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs—offers a critical diagnosis of Turkey’s deepening authoritarian turn under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. Framing the recent arrest of Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu as a pivotal moment in Turkey’s political trajectory, Dr. Cevik asserts that “we’ve crossed the biggest threshold from competitive authoritarianism to full authoritarianism.” While acknowledging that political repression is not new in Turkey, he emphasizes that this particular case marks a critical rupture because it directly targets “the most potent rival of Erdogan” and aims to eliminate any realistic possibility for the opposition to win an election.

Dr. Cevik situates this development within Erdogan’s long-standing strategy of personalizing power and dismantling institutional checks and balances. Over the course of two decades, Erdogan has “sidelined all important political figures,” absorbed the party into his persona, and gradually brought the judiciary, media, business sector, and civil society under his direct control. This personalization of rule has been “formalized” through the switch to a presidential system, which Dr. Cevik sees as a culmination of earlier informal power consolidations.

While Erdogan’s rule was long bolstered by a populist strategy that fused economic provision with religious-nationalist rhetoric, Dr. Cevik argues that this strategy is faltering. Erdogan is now “no longer the popular figure” he once was, as economic decline has eroded his legitimacy among even his core supporters. This, Dr. Cevik suggests, is what pushes the regime to rely increasingly on coercion rather than consent: “Populist mobilization is no longer the key term to understand Turkish authoritarianism… Force is the fundamental strategy of Erdogan.”

Of particular concern is the muted response from Western powers, which Dr. Cevik interprets as tacit approval. He criticizes both the United States and the European Union for enabling Erdogan’s autocratization, noting that “Erdogan feels both very weak because he’s losing popular legitimacy, but he’s also feeling very strong… because he has international backing.” In Europe, especially, strategic interests tied to Turkey’s military capacity and geopolitical location have led to a dangerous silence. “Europe made the same mistake with Putin,” Dr. Cevik warns. “I see no reason why Erdogan should be trusted more than Putin… It’s not only normatively and morally wrong—it’s also strategically blind thinking.”

In this critical conversation, Dr. Cevik calls attention not only to Turkey’s alarming democratic backsliding but also to the global implications of Western complacency in the face of authoritarian consolidation.

Dr. Salim Cevik
Dr. Salim Cevik—Political Scientist and Researcher at the German Institute for International and Security Affairs.

Here is the transcription of the interview with Dr. Salim Cevik with some edits.

Erdogan Regime Is No Longer Competitive—It’s Full Authoritarianism

Dr. Cevik, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: To what extent does the arrest of Ekrem Imamoglu represent a definitive rupture in Turkey’s transition from competitive authoritarianism to full-fledged autocracy?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Thank you for inviting me, and for the question. I think this marks a major threshold. But to be honest, he is not the first politician to be arrested in Turkey. The country has been on an authoritarian trajectory for more than a decade, which has involved the imprisonment of many politicians—particularly members of the Kurdish political movement, who have been arrested en masse. Some are still behind bars, the most prominent among them being Selahattin Demirtas, who has been in prison for more than eight years. So, in that sense, Imamoglu’s arrest is nothing new in Turkey—but it is new in the sense that it aims to destroy the competitive element of the political regime.

When we talk about competitive authoritarianism, it is an authoritarian system, anyway—but what distinguishes it from full authoritarian regimes is that, in competitive authoritarianism, there is a realistic possibility that the opposition can win an election. Now, why is Imamoglu being arrested and not someone else? I think there is a clear answer to that: he is the most potent rival of Erdogan. He is being arrested because he could potentially defeat Erdogan in the next elections. If you put people who could win elections behind bars, that, by definition, undermines the competitive dimension of competitive authoritarianism. Because if you arrest whoever is going to win, then it’s no longer competitive—it becomes a fully authoritarian system. So, in that sense, I think we’ve crossed the biggest threshold from competitive authoritarianism to full authoritarianism.

Force Is Now Erdogan’s Strategy

Turkey, Protest
University students stage a protest at Beşiktaş Square in Istanbul, declaring a boycott in response to the arrest of Mayor Ekrem İmamoğlu — Istanbul, Turkey, March 24, 2025. Photo: Sedat Gulec.

How has Erdogan’s brand of populism evolved into an instrument of authoritarian consolidation, and how central is the creation of internal “enemies” to this strategy?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Populism and the creation of internal enemies have been central to Erdogan’s authoritarianism. That has been the case over the years—even when he was not yet a fully autocratic leader and when Turkey’s democracy was functioning relatively well. Erdogan has consistently employed a populist strategy for political mobilization, and he has now been in power for more than two decades. The first decade was relatively—or at least acceptably—democratic, and initially even pro-democratic. However, starting with his second term, during his second decade in power, he began to grow increasingly authoritarian.

Over these more than 20 years, he has always created internal enemies, and those enemies have actually changed over time. They have included Kemalists, Gulenists, Kurds, and Turkish nationalists—at different stages of his political career, he has targeted different groups. He managed to establish a minimum winning coalition to defeat each internal enemy. That’s his political style and strategy. In that sense, populism has been integral to the establishment of authoritarianism in Turkey. 

However, when we talk about this recent event—this arrest—and Turkey crossing a threshold from competitive to full authoritarianism, I don’t think populism is the right term here. Populism, by definition, is about being popular. Populist autocrats usually mobilize the majority around themselves, and they create internal enemies in order to build this minimum winning coalition—at least to configure a majority. That tactic—creating internal enemies—has been Erdogan’s strategy for more than 20 years.

But as I said in the previous question, we are now crossing a threshold from competitive to full authoritarianism. Erdogan has been a popular politician—he has always been a very popular politician. He consistently managed to create a winning majority, a coalition of a minimum winning majority. He is now crossing that threshold because he believes, and sees, that he can no longer do that. He is no longer the popular figure. He no longer has 51 percent behind him, and that’s why he is crossing this threshold. So, I think populist mobilization is no longer the key term to understand Turkish authoritarianism.

Of course, the process I’m talking about has just started, and we don’t know where it will lead. But if everything goes according to Erdogan’s expectations—and if Turkey becomes a full authoritarian regime rather than a competitive one—then he no longer needs to be popular. It will not be a majority authoritarian regime; it will be an authoritarian regime ruled by a minority. And that means he will be ruling by force, rather than by creating the consent of the majority through populist means. But, this is just the beginning of the process. Where we are heading is that populism is no longer Erdogan’s fundamental strategy. Now on, force is the fundamental strategy of Erdogan.

Populism Dismantled the Rule of Law—Now Erdogan Rules Alone

Would you characterize the current crisis as the culmination of a long-standing populist logic that inherently undermines liberal democratic norms?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Yes. This populist strategy that Erdogan has pursued so far has enabled him to reach this point. It has allowed him to dismantle the rule of law and undermine political liberties. It has enabled him to inflict suffering on individuals and groups he has designated as internal enemies. But, as I mentioned in the previous question, those internal enemies are no longer the minority. Now, he is creating an internal enemy that will likely, by the end of this process, be the majority—making it a forceful authoritarianism. Ultimately, it was populism—and the systematic dismantling of the rule of law and the liberal protections that accompany it—that brought us to this point and enabled Erdogan to cross the threshold we are now discussing.

In what ways has the personalization of power under Erdoğan blurred institutional lines between the state, party, and judiciary?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Well, in very fundamental ways. I mean, when Erdogan came to power, the AKP was a ‘cadre’ movement. It had a number two—Abdullah Gul—a number three, Bulent Arinc. Some would even call Abdullatif Sener number four, and the list would go on. We had a powerful cabinet with very prominent politicians, etc. So, it was a genuine cadre movement. Now, there is no number two within the AKP—let alone a number three or a cadre—and the ministers no longer carry any real weight. Even in this current crisis, we see that Erdogan is, in a way, defending himself. He no longer has credible political allies to speak on his behalf. So, everything is now personalized in Turkey.

But it has first started with the personalization of power within the party. Erdogan initially hijacked the party. It had been a party of prominent figures—a cadre movement with a political ideology, or at least a claim to conservative democracy. But step by step, he personalized power within the party. He sidelined all the important political figures and stripped the party of its political substance. When we talk about the party’s ideology or political beliefs today, there’s really nothing left—because over the past 20 years, Erdogan has continuously shifted his coalitions, leaving no consistent ideological foundation. So, the party became Erdogan.

After that, he personalized other centers of power. He brought the judiciary under his control. He turned the party’s control over the state into personal control—and since the party is Erdogan, this meant bringing the judiciary, the media, the business community, and civil society under his direct influence. So, at the end of the day—with the switch to the presidential system, which in many ways formalized these already existing informal power configurations—the regime became fully personalized. That transformation, already largely complete by 2013–14, was cemented through institutional change. Now, we are talking about a single individual ruling not only over the executive, but also the judiciary, the parliament, civil society, and all segments of power.

Strong Enough to Suppress, Too Weak to Compete

Ekrem Imamoglu
Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu addresses supporters during a protest under the banner “The Nation Stands by Their Will” outside the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality on December 15, 2022. Photo: Tolga Ildun

Is the recent political crackdown a sign of regime insecurity ahead of elections, or a calculated strategy to establish post-electoral authoritarian permanence?

Dr. Salim Cevik: I think it’s both a symptom of weakness and of strength at the same time. It’s a symptom of weakness because Erdogan is increasingly lacking popular support.

What made him so indispensable to his allies for so long was his ability to bring the majority of the public with him. He kept winning elections—or, to put it another way, we can certainly criticize the tactics he used to maintain his popularity—but ultimately, he succeeded in staying popular.

That’s no longer the case. In recent years, those who don’t want to see him as president now form a larger coalition than those who do. This was already true in the previous election two years ago, but he managed to survive using various tactics: he divided the opposition, ensured they backed a candidate who couldn’t unify them, and relied on judicial tools—there was already a court case against Imamoglu at the time. He used other instruments too. The key was preventing the opposition from uniting behind a single figure.

But that’s no longer working. The local elections showed that the CHP is now the central actor in the opposition and capable of building a majority larger than Erdogan’s. So in that sense, he’s very weak in terms of popular legitimacy—and that’s what’s pushing him to take these extraordinary measures.

At the same time, he remains very powerful. He controls the state apparatus, the judiciary, the media, and the security forces. And the international context—perhaps you’ll ask about this later, but I’ll mention it briefly—has emboldened him even further. He knows the US is on his side, and he knows that, for a variety of reasons, Europe will stay silent. In that sense, he’s very powerful.

So it’s a paradox: he’s powerful because he can take these steps, but weak because he has to. He can’t afford to leave the competitive authoritarian game as it is and risk an election—even a highly unfair one—that he might lose. So, he takes measures to avoid that risk. In short, he’s strong in terms of state control, but weak in terms of popular legitimacy—and that combination is exactly what’s driving these moves.

Erdogan Exploits Islam as Rhetoric, Not as Rule

Has political Islamism in Turkey under the AKP shifted from a reformist ethos to a mechanism of ideological legitimation for autocracy? Do you see the regime’s increasing reliance on religious-nationalist rhetoric as signaling a radicalization, or merely instrumental populist recalibration?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Well, as I mentioned in the previous question, political Islam in the early 2000s had adopted a reformist character. At the time, they denied being Islamists. The famous claim was that they had “changed shirts,” and instead labeled themselves as Conservative Democrats. But that was merely a rebranding—because in order to navigate Turkey’s stringent secularist laws, it was not possible to openly identify as a Muslim democratic party. Unlike in Europe, in Turkey you have to use the label “conservative,” even though the public understands that “conservative” essentially refers to Islam and religion.

So, as a Conservative Democratic party, the AKP was indeed a reformist movement in its early years. I have to say that during that period, religious discourse in society also became more pluralistic and democratic—this was part of the cultural conflict in Turkey between authoritarian secularists and the conservative majority. To defeat—or rather, to undermine—the authoritarian secularist powers, who were a minority, Islamist actors adopted the language of democratization and pushed for reform within the system.

But around 2010 to 2012–13—it’s hard to pinpoint an exact moment—once it became clear that Erdogan was no longer under threat, he no longer needed the reformist agenda. At that point, the logic shifted entirely, and Islam became an instrument of authoritarianism, used to justify his populist, majoritarian, and increasingly autocratic actions.

As for the second half of your question, I don’t believe we are witnessing a radicalization. Radicalization would imply a structural transformation of the regime toward a more overtly religious order. If I understand the question correctly, I don’t see that happening—nor has it happened over the past decade. Erdogan has consolidated power, but he has never actually used that power to turn the system into a more theocratic one—he hasn’t changed the legal framework or granted religion greater authority in the functioning of the state.

The only time he explicitly referenced the Quran in policy terms was when he lowered interest rates—an idea that was ill-advised not just from an economic standpoint, but also because it lacked a sound religious basis. Religion prohibits interest altogether—it doesn’t differentiate between high or low rates.

If he had said, “I want to remove interest entirely from Turkey’s financial system because religion requires it,” then we could talk about a genuine turn toward religious rule—where religious texts begin to dictate policy. That would have been a clear move away from secular governance. But instead, he said something else—and I find this very telling. He said, “I’m lowering the interest rates because Islam doesn’t like interest.”

In that moment, it was clear: religion was being instrumentalized to justify a pre-existing policy agenda. He didn’t abolish interest; he didn’t change the institutional rules. He used religion as a rhetorical tool. Religion, in this case, was merely a pawn. And I see no indication that this dynamic will change anytime soon.

Religious Rhetoric Remains, But the Provider Role Is Crumbling

Turkish Islamist President Recep Tayyip Erdogan speaks in Van province of Turkey as holding a holy Quran on April 14, 2015.

To what degree does the AKP’s Islamic narrative still resonate with its core electorate, particularly in light of economic hardship and rising dissent?

Dr. Salim Cevik: It’s difficult to answer this as a simple yes or no. On the one hand, he clearly still commands a degree of popularity. As I mentioned, he has lost the majority and will probably never recover it, but he continues to enjoy the support of—perhaps—30, 40, or even 45 percent of the electorate. I can’t cite precise numbers, but some of that support undoubtedly stems from religious sentiment. Certain segments of society view him as a devout figure. More importantly, they harbor such deep resentment toward secularists that they rally around Erdogan, whom they see as a protective barrier between themselves and the secular elite. So, part of his enduring popularity is still grounded in religion.

On the other hand, that popularity is clearly in decline, and the driving factor is economic hardship. The economy alone may not be sufficient to build a majority coalition, but it is powerful enough to dismantle one. Or let me put it this way: up to now, Erdogan has played a dual role—both as an economic provider and a religious protector. He positioned himself as the guardian of religious values while delivering material prosperity. That balance was key to sustaining his electoral majority. But if he falters on either front, that majority begins to unravel. He continues to lean on the religious narrative, but he’s steadily losing the economic argument—the “provider” role.

So, yes, his base is eroding. But as I said, it’s a gray area. Religion remains a powerful political tool for him. Yet in times of economic hardship, it alone won’t be enough.

Unlike Gezi, This Time the Protest Began with Repression, Not Resistance

How do the current mass protests compare to the 2013 Gezi Park movement in terms of mobilization dynamics, ideological coherence, and regime response? Could the protests catalyze a broader democratic awakening, or will they be contained through increased repression and securitization?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Let me start with the second half of your question. If the mobilization continues and manages to force Erdogan to back down, it could mark the beginning of a new era of democratization in Turkey. That’s possible, but unlikely. The more probable scenario is that Erdogan will suppress the current mobilization and push the system toward an even more authoritarian model. Still, it’s a process in motion—we simply can’t know for sure yet.

Now, if we compare this to the Gezi Park protests, one major difference stands out. As we discussed in the previous question regarding the economy—when the Gezi protests erupted, they were largely a middle-class reaction. People were frustrated with Erdogan’s growing personalization of power—his attitude of “I am the ruler of this country, and I don’t care what you think; everything goes the way I say.” It was a kind of delegative democracy, as political scientists would call it. “I was elected, therefore I have all the power, and I don’t need to answer to anyone.”

That attitude contributed to the uprisings. And if those protests hadn’t been met with such severe repression, I don’t think they would’ve escalated the way they did. Gezi began as a peaceful demonstration—completely legitimate—and Erdogan could have simply let it happen. Had he done so, we might not have seen the full-scale protests or the resulting political crisis.

I don’t know whether he planned it all from the start, but at some point, Erdogan seemed to decide that Gezi wasn’t a threat but rather an opportunity—a way to boost his popularity. He could frame the protesters as urban, middle-class, secular elites. And that’s classic populist strategy: pitting “the elite” against “the people.” He painted Gezi protesters as privileged, urbanites who were safe and comfortable, yet complaining about trivial matters. That framing resonated with his base.

This current wave of protests, however, is different because it started with repression. It didn’t begin as a small demonstration that spiraled into something larger due to state violence—it began with the arrest of Imamoglu. It was repression from the outset. It was an intentional move to dismantle the competitive element of the regime. So, whereas during Gezi Erdogan’s stance was “I was elected and therefore I rule,” now it’s, “You once elected me, and I’ll make sure you never get the chance to unelect me.” That’s the key difference.

This time, it wasn’t police brutality that brought people to the streets. Rather, people were already in the streets, and Erdogan is trying to stop them with police brutality. It’s a different dynamic.

Also, I don’t think this protest is being led by the middle class. It’s being led by urban youth who feel economically crushed, who don’t see a future for themselves, and who are desperate. That’s why they’re protesting. In that sense, this moment feels more radical than Gezi. Back then, protesters were largely middle-class—they had something to lose. They wanted a more responsive government, but they weren’t acting out of despair.

Today’s youth have little or nothing to lose. That’s why even harsh state repression hasn’t stopped them—at least not yet. I was a young academic during Gezi—I was a university assistant, and by Turkish standards, I had a pretty good life. I honestly don’t think even full professors today enjoy the lifestyle I had back then. The economic decline has been dramatic. And I don’t think today’s university assistants, graduate students, or undergrads see much hope in their futures. That, too, fuels their willingness to take to the streets.

So yes, in that sense, there are some fundamental differences between then and now.

Ballots Aren’t Enough—The Opposition Must Mobilize the Streets

Turkey, Protest
University students protest at Beşiktaş Square in Istanbul on March 24, 2025, declaring a boycott in response to the arrest of Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu. Photo: Sedat Gulec

What does the sidelining of Imamoglu suggest about the regime’s tolerance for political pluralism within the current constitutional framework? What risks do opposition parties face in navigating between electoral participation and resistance within an increasingly autocratic system?

Dr. Salim Cevik: Well, the opposition parties are now in a dilemma. I’ve been talking about how the competitive element is disappearing. It’s becoming a fully authoritarian regime, and I’m sure that at some point people will begin to ask: “Is this just theater? Why are we playing our roles in this performative act that only serves to legitimize Erdoğan’s authoritarianism? Why are we even competing in the elections?” I think that would be a trap—the same trap the Venezuelan opposition fell into at one point.

Whatever happens, there will be pressure on the opposition to boycott the elections or withdraw—but I think that would be the wrong path. No matter what, the opposition must go to the ballot box, participate in the elections, and make it clear to the public that they won. I’m not saying the regime can necessarily be unseated through elections—I think we are passing that threshold. I use “passing” intentionally—I’m not saying we’ve already crossed it. It’s a process. But even if we eventually do pass that threshold, and it becomes impossible to remove the regime through elections alone, the opposition must still participate and demonstrate that they hold the popular majority.

At the same time, they have to acknowledge that it probably won’t be enough. You can no longer unseat Erdogan simply through words or ballots. You need to mobilize the streets—through demonstrations and by raising a broad popular demand for change. The opposition must combine both strategies: win at the ballot box and sustain mobilization on the streets.

Europe Made the Same Mistake with Putin—Why Trust Erdogan?

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Ankara, Turkey on August 30, 2014. Photo: Mustafa Kirazlı.

And lastly, Dr. Cevik, how do you interpret the EU’s and US’s muted response to Imamoglu’s arrest? Can this be read as a form of tacit legitimation or geopolitical pragmatism? To what extent does Western inaction amount to a “green light” for Erdogan’s continued autocratization?

Dr. Salim Cevik: I think this is a very important question, and thank you for asking this. And, as I said in one of the previous questions, Erdogan feels both very weak because he’s losing popular legitimacy, but he’s also feeling very strong because he has control of the coercive apparatus of the state, and he also has international backing. And when we say international backing, he has the backing of both Americans and Europeans.

We have to talk about this very briefly, so let me say a few words about both. I mean, if Trump talks with Erdogan, he would probably ask for advice on how to repeat what Erdogan is doing in Turkey in the United States. So obviously there would be no backlash coming from the American side, and all democracy movements in the world have to adapt to the fact that America is no longer ruled by a democrat. I mean, America’s own record for supporting democracies has always been a critical one. It has sold out democrats when it suited its strategic interests—that’s for sure. But it has now come to a point where America is ruled by a president who actually admires autocrats more than democrats. So we’ve left that era behind.

And for the Europeans, I think it’s clear—they will criticize it, and they do criticize it with weak words and sentences, expressions of concern. But nothing will come out of it, and everybody knows that they don’t mean it, because they actually feel that they need Turkey more than ever. Once Trump made it clear that American security guarantees are no longer reliable, Europe began discussing creating its own strategic autonomy, its own defense capabilities—and Turkey emerged as a very crucial actor here, with its strong military, large population, and growing defense industry, as well as its strategic location. So Turkey is a very important partner, potentially, for European security. And Erdogan knows this and hopes that Europe will ignore his authoritarian moves because they need him—and so far, he has been proven right.

But let me finish by saying that it is not only a normative mistake for Europe to allow Erdogan to make this move—hoping that Turkey is strategically important—but it’s also strategically blind thinking. Because once Erdogan removes all the thresholds between himself and full authoritarianism—once Turkey becomes a Putin-like regime—the question for Europeans should be: can a regime like that be trusted for security cooperation? Can it really be a security partner?

Turkish–European relations have been transactional for the last decade, and an authoritarian figure like Erdogan was quite fine for that. Transactionalism allowed for bargaining, and you could prefer to deal with a single individual rather than a state—and that was fine. But once you move beyond that—if you want to create a strategic partnership between Europe and Turkey, if Turkey is to become an important part of European security—then you can’t really trust a personal autocracy.

Europe made the same mistake with Putin. They hoped that by creating economic interdependencies, Russia would never be a threat to European security—and they were proven wrong. I see no reason why Erdogan should be trusted more than Putin in that sense, and why European security should be entrusted to a political system that is ruled by the whims of a single individual.

As I said, it’s not only normatively and morally wrong—it’s also strategically blind thinking on Europe’s part.