Indonesia is witnessing its largest wave of protests since Reformasi, sparked by the death of Affan Kurniawan during Jakarta’s labor demonstrations. Demands range from fair wages and job security to dismantling elite privileges and revising the controversial Omnibus Law. Drawing on Ernesto Laclau’s theory of populist reason, the article analyzes how heterogeneous grievances converged into a collective identity of “the people” against “the elites,” fueled by widening inequality, institutional distrust, and elite arrogance. It further examines government securitization, social media narratives, and intra-elite rivalries, situating the unrest within Indonesia’s democratic backsliding. Hasnan Bachtiar argues this moment marks a potential turning point — either toward renewed progressive populism or deeper authoritarian entrenchment.
Affan Kurniawan (21) was still wearing the green jacket from his app-based food-delivery job as he stepped out to earn a living. The family’s breadwinner, he was expected to bring home a small bag of rice for everyone to share when he returned from work. But in the middle of a labor protest in Jakarta, he was struck and crushed by a nearly five-ton police armored vehicle.
On the night of August 28, 2025, he died. But his death unleashed a larger, unstoppable wave of populist anger, like a boil about to burst. The protests that day were not limited to Jakarta, they also broke out in cities such as Surabaya, Bandung, Semarang, Yogyakarta, Medan, Banda Aceh, Batam, Palembang, Lampung, Banjarmasin, Pontianak, Samarinda, Makassar, Gorontalo, Ambon, Ternate, and Jayapura, among others, spreading across all 38 provinces of Indonesia.
The protests demanded an end to outsourcing and poverty wages, a halt to layoffs, a higher minimum wage, a higher non-taxable income threshold, the removal of taxes on holiday bonuses and severance pay, limits on contract employment and on foreign labor, and the repeal of the Omnibus Law in favor of a new labor code.
It turned out this wave of protests was the twelfth in a series, preceded by eleven demonstrations throughout 2025, including one organized under the hashtag #IndonesiaGelap. The following day, and continuing to the present, the protests have carried on with even more serious demands. For the record, several others died after Affan, they are Septinus Sesa (West Papua), Iko Juliant Junior (Semarang), Andika Luthfi Falah (Jakarta), Syaiful Akbar (Makassar), Muhammad Akbar Basri (Makassar), Sarinawati (Makassar), Rusmadiansyah (Makassar), and Reza Sendy Pratama (Yogyakarta).
Populis Logics
What is happening appears to align with Ernesto Laclau’s thinking in his work On Populist Reason (2005). He sees populism as a political logic that constructs a collective identity of “the people” in antagonism to the elite by using broad, flexible, and recognizable symbols and discourses to unite disparate demands.
Initially, a scatter of heterogeneous demands kept surfacing. Because the authorities failed to respond adequately, people came to feel they shared a common enemy. They then experienced a shared fate and burden as “marginalized subjects.” This spread, solidifying public sentiment and spurring the formation of “equivalential chains.” They arrived at a collective claim that “the people demand justice,” to be pursued through a movement of resistance as a hegemonic articulation. From a more ontological perspective of “the people,” as suggested by Yilmaz et al. (2025), if the elite prove incapable of governing the country, they should be replaced or even dismantled.
On the surface, it began with reports circulating about pay and benefit increases for officials, especially members of parliament. This came at a time when the public was facing severe economic hardship. On one side, the executive branch was rolling out “efficiency” measures that led to layoffs, service cuts, and heavier tax burdens. On the other, the elite were enjoying higher salaries and perks, access to lucrative projects, and economic rents. For comparison, while officials were set to receive 100 million rupiah (USD 6,092) per month, about 3 million rupiah (USD 184) a day, 68 percent of the population was getting by on less than 50,000 rupiah (USD 3). With incomes roughly sixty times higher than most people’s, this was seen as elite indifference toward the public and the imposition of a harsh double standard.
Moreover, some of those officials even danced in the parliament building when they heard about the pay raise. Others, like Uya Kuya (National Mandate Party/PAN), said that three million a day was a small amount compared to his salary. When the public flooded social media with criticism, lawmaker Eko Patrio (PAN) put out a DJ parody, blasting loud music, dancing, then covering his ears with headphones. This came across not only as a sign that they did not care about the criticism, but as an insult. They were dancing on the public’s suffering. When people grew furious and called for parliament (the DPR) to be dissolved, Ahmad Sahroni (National Democratic Party/NasDem) responded by calling them “the dumbest people in the world.”
The combination of economic hardship (crisis), a deficit of trust in the government, and widespread psychological pressure, especially a collective sense of humiliation, led the public to feel a shared grievance and to move together against a common enemy, the corrupt elite. All of this then manifested in collective protest movements filled with popular anger and even accompanied by violence that seemed inevitable.
Hijacking the Reformasi
Rather than engaging with the substance of public anger, the government responded with a hardline narrative with unproven claims of foreign infiltration. This seemed to be the point when the distance between the state and its citizens felt widest. The public demanded accountability, the state answered by criminalizing dissent. These dueling narratives hardened for a basic reason, that the people no longer believed that their representatives, whether in the executive or the legislature, would take their side, while the state treated criticism as a danger to be crushed. To confront the protesters, the government deployed not only the police but also military troops.
The public’s collective anger is clearly directed at the ruling regime. People see signs of recentralization as a replay of what happened for more than three decades under the military general Suharto. There is now symbolic militarization, increasingly entrenched political coalitions, and the concentration of state assets within a narrow circle, especially among those close to President Prabowo. All of this is viewed as the culmination of the post-1998 Reformasi trajectory. Reformasi, which was expected to open civic space, now seems instead to be in the process of being brutally dismantled.
More ironically, the rhetoric of fiscal efficiency is being wielded downward, squarely at ordinary people. Budgets for the regions have been cut, and the social safety net has shrunk, while luxury perks for parliament (the DPR) and defense spending have ballooned. For the record, the national defense budget rose from 139.27 trillion rupiah in 2024 to 247.5 trillion rupiah. At the start of 2025, the value-added tax (PPN) was raised to 12%, which many fears will significantly weaken purchasing power. Other issues seen as worsening the public’s socio-economic situation include the circulation of adulterated “premium” fuel, shortages of LPG canisters on the market, the nickel case in Raja Ampat, the transfer of four islands from Aceh to North Sumatra, the freezing of 120 million bank accounts by Indonesia’s Financial Transaction Reports and Analysis Center (PPATK), and a rule under which idle land and houses would be seized by the state, among others.
So, for the public, “efficiency” has become a pretext for tightening their own belts, not for reining in elite appetites. Because budget “efficiency” is centralized, local governments that would normally receive transfers from the center have been left scrambling, with little choice but to raise local revenues. On August 13, 2025, residents protested in the city of Pati, Central Java, after the Pati regent, Sudewo (from Gerindra Party), raised the Land and Building Tax (PBB, essentially the property tax) by 250%. Other local governments that faced public backlash included Jombang (a 1,202% tax hike), Cirebon (1,000%), Semarang (441%), Bone (300%), and Lhokseumawe (248%).
In this context, the reform agenda appears to have been hijacked. An alliance of politicians, bureaucrats, and big business interests has deepened the private accumulation of public resources through seemingly democratic institutions. Meanwhile, political parties show almost no real ideological differentiation, they appear to speak with one voice in service of an oligarchic logic. At the same time, freedom of speech exists, and social media teems with criticism, but the distribution of economic and political power remains skewed. When the public pressed its case during the #IndonesiaGelap protests on February 17-20, 2025, the Chair of the National Economic Council and Special Presidential Advisor for Investment, Luhut Binsar Pandjaitan, replied: “Darkness lies in you, not Indonesia.”
The People’s Articulation
President-elect Prabowo Subianto with the 7th President of Indonesia, Joko Widodo, at the 79th Indonesian National Armed Forces Anniversary in Jakarta, Indonesia, on October 5, 2024. Photo: Donny Hery.
It cannot be doubted that the spread of protests was the result of many triggers converging at once. Tension in the streets created space for a populist mood to take hold, reinforced by narratives circulating on social media, kitchen-table anxieties, and political symbols that ignited collective emotion. The picture was further muddied by orchestrated messaging from anonymous “buzzers” (paid online amplifiers), making it hard for the public to see who was really behind the unrest.
On the ground, the crowd was heterogeneous (workers, students, online ride-hailing driver communities (ojek), and civil society organizations) pursuing overlapping aims that were not always identical, which often slowed coordination. Under that pressure, crowd psychology amplified emotions. Each new casualty triggered broader solidarity while also opening space for infiltration and provocation. At the same time, intra-elite conflicts (especially Prabowo-military vis-à-visJokowi-police) fueled the escalation. Factions within the ruling bloc competed, some ratcheted up tensions, while others capitalized on the moment for political gain.
The crowd’s anger in these protests was aimed at four main targets they saw as sources of injustice. First, the DPR (parliament) was perceived as a symbol of privilege and a legislature that often produces policies that betray the popular will. Then, the security forces (the police) because repeated violence and impunity have eroded the public’s sense of safety. Political parties were viewed as lacking real ideological differences and serving mainly to reinforce an oligarchic logic. The ruling faction (Prabowo) was criticized for pushing recentralization and was feared to be further narrowing the civic space that should belong to citizens.
From the streets, two tiers of demands rang out loud and clear. First came the urgent demands to be met by September 5, 2025, an independent investigation into cases of police violence against protest victims, an end to the involvement of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) in civilian affairs, the release of all detained protesters, accountability for security forces, a moratorium on increases to benefits for DPR members (parliament), full budget transparency, ethics sanctions for officials who displayed arrogance, an open public dialogue with the DPR, and comprehensive protections for workers.
Second, there were structural demands to clean up the parliament (DPR) of corruptions, to reform political parties and the system of executive oversight, to build a fairer tax system, to strengthen the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) through an asset-forfeiture law, to make the police professional, to ensure the military returns to the barracks without exception, to bolster the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) and other independent bodies, and to review economic and labor policies so they favor the public.
The demonstrations are not just seasonal “riots.” They are a serious sign that the state’s legitimacy is eroding. Indonesia learned in 1998 that when an economic crisis collides with a political crisis and injustice, the result is a multidimensional crisis. Those symptoms are back now, only with a new face, the public is more informed, more digitally connected, and more willing to test the state’s narrative against everyday experience.
Democracy rarely collapses overnight. It usually erodes slowly under the pretext of maintaining order. That is why this moment can be understood as an inflection point, will Indonesia slip back into a new form of authoritarianism hiding behind procedural democracy, or use it as a chance to repair a fractured social contract?
This is where progressive populism becomes relevant. The popular movement, now articulated through anger and concrete demands, opens the door to building a new political bloc committed to economic and social justice, transparency, and accountability. Rather than merely mobilizing emotion, progressive populism can serve as a platform to knit scattered demands into a coherent, measurable collective agenda.
Affan’s death has come to symbolize how a single life from the poor can speak louder than a thousand official speeches. If the establishment chooses to turn a deaf ear, whatever legitimacy remains will only grow more fragile. But if it dares to listen and channel the people’s energy toward a fairer transformation, this tragedy could mark the beginning of renewal.
Greece has become a critical gateway for asylum-seekers, yet increasingly restrictive migration policies, harsh detention conditions, and reduced aid leave refugees in precarious circumstances. Amid systemic exclusion, NGOs like REFUGYM, Sama Community Center, and El-Sistema Greece foster hope, dignity, and belonging through education, sports, arts, and grassroots initiatives. Drawing on interviews with NGO leaders, refugees, and first-hand field observations, this article highlights both the barriers asylum-seekers face and the community-led solutions redefining resilience. In a climate of tightening borders and rising polarization, refugee-led spaces remain vital for empowerment, solidarity, and imagining more inclusive futures.
By Layla Hajj*
On July 9th, 2025, Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis announced that Greece will stop the processing of asylum applications arriving from North Africa for three months, claiming that those who enter the country illegally will be “arrested and detained.” Despite the Greek Council for Refugees demanding that there be no suspension of asylum under the premise that it is “illegal,” a violation of international law, and a demonstration of Greece’s failure to guarantee basic fundamental rights, Greece has justified their migration restrictions with the influx of migrants arriving via the Mediterranean route. The government defends that they must halt all illegal migration to increase their country’s security and ensure that they have the adequate resources to distribute to their own citizens, who are currently facing issues such as widespread unemployment.
Those who make it to Greece live in detention centers, formally called refugee camps. Despite government officials denying all accusations, Cyprus and Greece have been repeatedly accused of human rights violations and push backs against migrants by the European Court of Human Rights and other councils.
While camps have always been isolated, cast away in remote mountains outside of the line of sight of most Greek citizens, they have become increasingly restricted in recent years. In 2020, the Greek government built 10 foot concrete retainer walls around a camp referred to as Malakasa 1, which was already surrounded by barbed wire. Within these towering walls, the government has limited the entrepreneurship of refugees, including shutting down most, if not all, of the small businesses running in the camps.
The government has even limited assistance for basic survival necessities. In 2021, between the months of October and December, the state stripped asylum seekers of cash card assistance, a provision that impacted many thousands of asylum-seekers (Refugees International). In 2024, cash assistance was not paid out to migrants for the months of May, June, July, and August. Recently in March of 2025, the government reduced the eligibility period for Refugee Cash Assistance (RCA) and Refugee Medical Assistance (RMA) from 12 months to 4 months. The government has not provided a specific reason for the halting of said assistance.
In an interview with Britty Grace, founder of the NGO REFUGYM and a former service worker in Malakasa 1, she shared some insights into the realities of life inside the camps. “People refer to the camps as prisons” she revealed. People are often uninformed of their rights, detained in the camps for weeks on end for paperwork processing, which inhibits their ability to get a job and provide for their families, and are stripped of housing opportunities overnight. And when asked if the conditions inside of camps have improved over the years, she responded with a direct “No. Things have gotten worse. And when you think things can’t get any worse, they do.”
Britty Grace started working in camps in 2016. Two years later, she started REFUGYM, an NGO that provides community-led-sports programming and language lessons to asylum-seekers. While there are many NGOs like Grace’s dedicated to servicing individuals living in refugee camps, the Greek government has placed several restrictions on their entry. According to Grace, the process of registration with a camp is “very expensive, bureaucratic, and difficult. Even after registration, it ultimately comes down to the discretion of the camp manager. Oftentimes, they don’t provide a reason for kicking us out. And I guess they don’t have to – they’re in charge.”
Grace was kicked out of the camp 5 times over the course of 6 years for trying to implement REFUGYM. “When I started it (REFUGYM), I had always created it to be a community led gym in the eventuality I would be kicked out. That way, it wasn’t completely dependent on me. So when I was forced to leave, REFUGYM was still able to continue for 6 years being led by the community.” However, her continued removal from the camps made management of her organization incredibly difficult, forcing Grace to eventually move her services to an external location.
A colleague of Grace’s, Katerina Tsikalaki, who now collaborates with Grace at her new location, shares similar experiences from working within the camps. As the co-founder of the NGO Science United, she is dedicated to providing science education to displaced youth in Greece. A valuable aspect of her services is providing children with the opportunity to go on field trips to observe the subjects they are learning about.
Tsikalaki shared a vivid memory of a setback she faced while implementing her travel programming: “A few years ago, I spent time planning a science field trip for the kids so that they could visit the Athens Science Festival. It was a much needed opportunity for them to get out of the camp and learn. However, on the planned day of the excursion, the minister abruptly decided to lock down the camp for what he described as procedures. Instead of a fun science excursion, the kids were stuck in the camps all day, watching their parents run through another round of security checks.”
“This was not an isolated event,” Tsikalaki continued. “While residents are allowed out of the camp, they must show identification. And if something goes wrong, they must remain in the camp until further notice. The children, and even adults, absolutely do not have the same rights as Greek residents outside of the camps. But it’s not surprising. We now have a very far-right minister of migration and asylum, Thanos Plevris.”
In the face of strict policy, refugees, with the support of NGOs, still manage to create their own spaces for belonging and success. Since relocating REFUGYM to the Sama community center, positioned right outside Malakasa 1 and 2, Britty Grace has been able to do so much more with her organization. A big part of REFUGYM’s programming has always been the escapism element that it presents participants – before from the typical day in the camps and since relocating, from the camps altogether.
“People come to hang out at Sama when we’re not there. It’s a safe space – a home,” Grace reflects.
Jumping in to support Grace’s comment, a refugee attending a Sama event revealed that “Sama makes life in the camps bearable. Sama gives me a purpose. When I leave to go back to camp, I am more joyful and hopeful.”
Sama is both a place of comfort and excitement. REFUGYM’s sports programming includes climbing trips, hiking, watersports, boxing, yoga and more. The center also hosts women’s weekly only days, cultivating a space in which women feel empowered and secure by offering activities like self-defense and meditation. On top of programming, Sama offers medical services and asylum support every week with the help of doctors and social workers from other NGOS.
A 16 year old frequenter of Sama serves as a prime example of the impact of the centers’ multifaceted program opportunities. He came to Sama illiterate and with a very bad eye condition. However, Britty Grace was able to connect him with an ophthalmologist and get him strong prescription glasses. From that point forward, his confidence increased exponentially. He became literate and learned English within months. Now, he helps translate the English classes for his less-fluent peers. This boy is one of many dedicated participants at the Sama community center. “People often attend 3 or 4 language classes. They are thirsty and keen for knowledge!” Grace exclaimed.
“Over the years a lot of people have asked me to write reference letters for them from when they were a leader in our program, and then that helped them to obtain a job,” Grace revealed. Their dedication inside Sama presents far-reaching opportunities.
Sama community center has also manifested into a space for cultural exchanges. Oftentimes, a Greek native named Maria, who helps teach the Greek lessons, plays music for the migrants on weekends. In return, migrants teach songs to their peers in their native language. “It is a super lovely reciprocal exchange of music. This is such an amazing, organic element that we should encourage,” Grace reflects. “Music is so universal and is an incredible way to promote mutual understanding and connection.”
El-Sistema Greece, a partner organization of REFUGYM, utilizes music as its key tool to promote unity. The organization is a Greek-led NGO that teaches music to both displaced youth and Greek locals, cultivating a space that promotes understanding and cohesion. The team is adamant that they remain a completely Greek team in order to foster a tight-knit community that promotes Greek inclusion, and makes the clear statement that Greece is an inviting country.
In an interview with Anis Barnat, co-founder of the NGO, he explained that: “What we developed is not so much music lessons, it’s nice but it’s not the purpose of what we’re doing. The social element is the most important one and the values that we’re giving to the kids, like learning how to understand differences and how to understand that barriers are most of the time very psychological so you have to overcome that. We try to give our kids as much control over the lesson plan as possible, and encourage them to work together in order to devise a plan. This is the thing that is lacking, I think, in the world in general. Fear and polarization are overtaking our world – and we seek to combat that division through El-Sistema. I love the arts, but we are creating good people, good leaders, and good citizens.”
“It’s essential to start community led projects so that they can be sustainable,” adds Grace. “In such programs. community members feel like it’s their space, so they contribute to it. It’s not just something that they passively show up to. They contribute to it, they help with upkeep, cleaning, and teaching. It’s a collective space as opposed to a hierarchical one.”
We will only see more people displaced from their home countries with the rise of climate change, poverty, and global conflict. In such a time, it is critical to lean on communities and cultivate spaces for inclusion. In the words of Britty Grace, “we must break down barriers in order to foster belonging.”
Layla Hajj is a rising senior at the National Cathedral School in Washington, D.C., and the founder of Refugee Youth Support, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit providing tutoring, mentorship, and school-prep programs for refugee children in the DC area. Over the past three summers, she has interned with the Blossom Hill Foundation, supporting educational initiatives for displaced youth worldwide. She has also traveled to Jordan and Greece to teach English to refugee children, conduct interviews with migration experts and asylum-seekers, and document grassroots efforts to build inclusive communities.
As a youth writer and advocate, Layla works to empower migrant youth and address systemic barriers facing displaced communities. For this article, she draws on interviews with NGO leaders and refugees, as well as her first-hand experiences working near refugee camps, aiming to amplify and contextualize the voices of migrants themselves.
GreeceRefugee.info. (n.d.). “Information and services about rights and procedures for refugees in Greece.” https://greece.refugee.info/en-us (accessed on September 1, 2025).
Donald Trump once portrayed himself as the guardian of Western Civilization. Yet his second administration has aggressively undermined the very unity it claimed to defend. The recent US-EU trade deal—imposing steep tariffs on European exports while demanding vast investments in American industries—signals a shift from partnership to dominance. This economic blow coincides with a deeper ideological rupture: Trump no longer sees Europe, especially the EU, as a cultural ally but as a bureaucratic adversary. Aligning instead with nationalist and religiously conservative leaders, Trump’s vision of the West excludes liberal, secular Europe in favor of sovereigntist regimes. Civilizational language remains—but it now serves to justify a reordered West where power, not pluralism, defines belonging.
The Trump administration’s recent trade deal is the culmination of its economic confrontation with the European Union (EU). However EU leaders choose to frame it, the agreement is hardly a positive development for Europe. It imposes a 15% tariff on most EU exports to the US, while granting zero tariffs on a range of US goods, including aircraft parts, chemicals, and generic drugs. In return, the EU committed to invest approximately $600 billion in the US, along with $750 billion in purchases of American energy products over a three-year period—a concession best described as economic capitulation.
Trump’s aggressive deal-making, which appears deliberately designed to undermine Europe’s industrial base, and his administration’s strong criticisms of the lack of political freedom in several European nations, especially Germany, sit uneasily alongside his earlier rhetoric on defending Western Civilization. For example, in his 2017 speech in Warsaw, Trump surprised many commentators by casting himself not as a narrow “America First” populist-nationalist, but as a defender of the West. Speaking in lofty tones, he warned his Polish audience that Western Civilization was in grave danger, facing threats both within and beyond its borders: “Our own fight for the West does not begin on the battlefield,” he declared. “It begins with our minds, our wills, and our souls.”
Drawing on Poland’s resistance to Nazism and Communism, Trump framed the US and Poland as cultural allies within a civilizational mission. To preserve that mission, he argued, both nations must keep alive the “bonds of history, culture, and memory.”
“Just as Poland could not be broken,” he said, “I declare today for the world to hear that the West will never, ever be broken. Our values will prevail. Our people will thrive. And our civilization will triumph.”
Among the enemies of the West identified by Trump were “radical Islamic” actors and, more vaguely, immigrants “who reject our values and who use hatred to justify violence against the innocent.” Yet he insisted these forces would fail—because of the West’s unity, strength, and cultural brilliance:
“We write symphonies. We pursue innovation. We celebrate our ancient heroes, embrace our timeless traditions… We cherish inspiring works of art that honor God. We treasure the rule of law and protect the right to free speech… We debate everything. We challenge everything. We seek to know everything so that we can better know ourselves.”
This was civilizational language in a distilled form, and which exalted a shared Western historical mission, moral legacy, and cultural inheritance. In using this language, Trump positioned himself as the defender of a great civilization under siege, one that would endure if it remained unified, and perhaps with Trump himself at its leader.
This was not the only civilizational note struck, so to speak, by the Trump administration. As Jeffrey Haynes noted, the administration explicitly elevated “Judeo-Christian values” in foreign policy, replacing the “more flexible Christocentric approach” of previous US governments. This shift was expressed in the promotion of religious freedom for Christians, the withdrawal of funding from abortion-linked aid programs, and consistent alignment with conservative religious causes internationally. Israel, in this framing, was incorporated into the West not through geography, but because it was understood as an outpost of Judeo-Christian civilization in the Middle East.
However, the second Trump Administration has hardly made civilizational unity with Europe a priority. It has, in fact, adopted an almost implacably anti-European tone. Gone is the soaring rhetoric praising European culture—replaced by direct critique. In Trump’s view, the Europeans do not spend enough on defense, choose not to protect themselves from Russian aggression, and instead free-ride on American military and economic might. Vice President J.D. Vance has been especially critical of Europe, arguing that the region is increasingly undemocratic, and singling out Germany for its attempts to ban the right-wing populist Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party. Since returning to power, Trump has disparaged NATO, launched economic attacks on the European Union, and pursued trade policies that harm core European industries. He sought rapprochement with Vladimir Putin, dismaying US allies, although these efforts were not reciprocated, forcing him to backtrack and grudgingly sponsor Ukraine’s self-defense.
Under the second Trump Administration, then, Europe—especially the EU—is seen not as a partner, but rather as an ideological and economic adversary. This may be surprising, given Trump’s earlier stated enthusiasm for civilizational unity. Yet signs of this antagonism were already present in the Warsaw speech, where Trump identified not just radical Islam but also the “steady creep of government bureaucracy” as a threat to the West. This was unmistakably code for Brussels and the wider liberal technocratic architecture of the EU. In Trump’s conception, the authentic West is not embodied by the EU or the secular, liberal nations of Western Europe, but by Hungary and Poland: nations that defend sovereignty, tradition, and Christian identity.
This helps explain Trump’s selective alliances.
Although Trump spoke of Western unity in Warsaw, his closest allies while in office have not been Europe’s liberal democracies, but rather a cohort of populist and nationalist leaders who share his disdain for globalism, technocracy, and liberal norms. In Europe, this included Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz party in Hungary and the Law and Justice (PiS) government in Poland, who both claimed to be defending Christian civilization against Muslim migrants and Brussels bureaucrats. But the pattern extended globally. Trump cultivated ties with Narendra Modi, whose Hindu nationalist project reimagines Indian identity in explicitly civilizational terms. He praised Jair Bolsonaro, who framed himself as a religious crusader against globalism and cultural Marxism. He supported Benjamin Netanyahu’s vision of Israel as a Jewish ethnostate and a bulwark protecting Western Civilization from radical Islam. What unites these figures is not cultural proximity or geopolitical strategy, but a shared political discourse that is nationalist, anti-liberal, often religiously framed, and contemptuous of international institutions.
Trump’s vision for international politics might be predicated on the protection of Western civilization, but in practice it constructs a loose front of ideologically aligned regimes that reject liberal universalism and prioritize ethnic or religious identity, sovereignty, and security. Viewed in this light, the Warsaw speech takes on a different meaning. Its invocation of “our civilization” may have sounded like a call to Western unity, but in hindsight it was a call to reorder that unity to displace Brussels with Budapest, liberalism with traditional values, and multilateralism with national sovereignty.
But not all of this is purely tactical. A clearer ideological logic emerges from the growing influence of post-liberal thinkers within the administration.
Around Trump, a group of advisers and public intellectuals, including Patrick Deneen, Rod Dreher (who now lives in Hungary), Adrian Vermeule, and most importantly Vice President Vance, possess a coherent civilizational vision of ‘the West.’ Their argument is not that Western civilization should be abandoned, but rather rescued from liberalism, which they see as having hollowed out Christianity, dismantled moral authority, and opened the gates to unchecked migration, especially from Muslim-majority countries. For these post-liberals, Europe’s embrace of secularism, technocracy, and progressive norms represents a betrayal of the West’s true civilizational inheritance. As a result, they do not see Western Europe and the EU as authentically ‘Western,’ but rather agree with Viktor Orban, who once told an American audience that “the Democratic Party and President Obama were ‘globalists’” who oppose Christian values, and who along with “Brussels” represent the enemies of Western civilization.
This vision marks a decisive break from the postwar consensus that linked Western civilization with liberal democracy, secularism, pluralism, and transatlantic solidarity. Trump’s EU trade deal, with its punitive tariffs and lopsided concessions, demonstrates the depth of this rupture. It is less an economic agreement than a demonstration of American power and signals that Washington now sees Brussels as an economic and ideological rival, not a member of the same civilization.
For Europeans, the implications are stark. Trump’s idea of “the West” is very different to the EU leaders’ idea of the West. Furthermore, Trump’s Warsaw rhetoric of Western unity is now largely absent, replaced with a transactional, often hostile, posture toward the EU and its liberal-democratic and technocratic core values.
Europeans, Aris Roussinos has observed, now face an unavoidable choice between embracing a specific set of ‘European’ values, and attempting to unify as a cultural and economic bloc in order to protect themselves from American power, or resign themselves to a subordinate role in a West utterly dominated by the United States. Emmanuel Macron has given this dilemma explicit political form, calling for Europe to become a civilizational power in its own right. Whether Europe can realize this ambition remains uncertain. But the trade deal imposed by Trump leaves little doubt: whatever the language of Warsaw once promised, there will be no simple civilizational unity between Europe and the United States.
The rise of populism has exposed the fragility of representative democracy, particularly in an era of rapid technological change. The digital age has blurred the lines between the personal and the political, as social media platforms empower populist leaders to claim direct representation of the people. As the public’s trust in institutionalized forms of democracy wanes, this has led to a recalibration of what representation should entail. Beyond mere vote casting, representation is increasingly about ensuring a broader, more inclusive range of voices within political discourse. However, as Peter Mair (2013) and others have noted, this expansion often leads to fragmentation rather than cohesion, making the task of political representation more complex and urgently in need of reinvention in the face of emerging global challenges.
Social media have become the contemporary embodiment of democracy’s broader promise: not only that every citizen holds one vote, but that each voice carries equal value. When this illusion of equal voice meets the populist perfume of a leader who claims to be “the voice of the people,” representative democracy—an invention of over two centuries ago—starts to feel stale.
James Madison, one of the Founding Fathers of the United States, argued that the public voice, articulated by representatives, would more likely align with the public good than if expressed directly by the people themselves (Madison, 1788). This idea, by its very nature, raises questions about one of liberal democracy’s foundational pillars: representation.
Since the rise of representative institutions—cortes, parliaments, and a wide array of mediating bodies—citizens have accepted that, in a complex and plural world, they cannot participate directly in the life of the polis. Hence, professional associations, unions, and political representatives have become the legitimate “voice” of the people. This pathway led to the modern construct of representative democracy.
However, representative democracy has long struggled between two competing approaches: authorization and accountability. As Hannah Pitkin (1967) noted in her seminal work The Concept of Representation, authorization theories ignore the substantive content of representation—who represents, what is represented, and how—while accountability models focus narrowly on control mechanisms, disregarding substantive political action.
With the end of the Cold War and the global expansion of liberal democracy, representation transcended both the consent implicit in the social contract and mere accountability. It evolved into a dynamic social process, marked by innovations such as participatory budgets, grassroots movements, and NGOs (Fung, 2006).
Demands for representation acquired a new momentum under the concept of representativeness. It no longer suffices that votes reflect diverse political tendencies; politics must now mirror the broader social spectrum. This raises the fundamental question of whether representation should be merely “acting on behalf of” or rather “acting as if one were” the represented.
Consequently, representative democracy is no longer the simple translation of votes into preselected politicians. It increasingly encompasses the demand for pluralism that reflects society’s diversity, with growing calls from various sectors for a seat at the table. In this sense, democracy has become more vibrant—thanks in large part to social activism.
Yet while historically marginalized social groups have gained ground and accelerated social integration after decades (and centuries) of exclusion, the so-called “silent majority” awoke in resentment, particularly after the 2008 crisis cast millions into uncertainty, reviving the category of the “have-nots.”
Alienated and angry, many fell prey to populist and demagogic narratives that promised to give them voice amidst a complex world of interdependent economies, international institutions like the IMF and the European Central Bank, distant political elites, and feelings of abandonment in peripheral regions (Mounk, 2018; Crouch, 2004).
Representative democracy—where people vote every four years for MPs they rarely see—started to seem like the enemy. Into this void entered radical right populism, promising direct democracy, dismantling liberal institutional checks and balances, and restoring order by targeting elites, immigrants, minorities, and the progressive media (Müller, 2016).
At the same time, young people are increasingly disenchanted and radicalized. Some polls show a growing preference for authoritarian or even military solutions among younger generations (Norris & Inglehart, 2019). The intergenerational gap in political expectations is widening, driven by feelings of economic stagnation, climate anxiety, and a perception that conventional politics lacks urgency and authenticity.
A crucial dimension of this crisis is the perceived irrelevance of political parties. Once central instruments of representation and social integration, parties are now often seen as closed ecosystems, dominated by professional politicians disconnected from everyday life. As Peter Mair (2013) argued in Ruling the Void, parties have increasingly withdrawn from civil society, becoming instruments of state management rather than democratic mediation. This erosion of intermediary structures has left citizens politically orphaned—searching for identity and belonging outside traditional institutions.
Compounding this, political elites frequently reproduce themselves through dynastic networks and clientelistic logic, further alienating citizens from the institutions that claim to represent them. Bernard Manin (1997) described the shift from party democracy to audience democracy, where visibility, media skills, and personal charisma often trump ideological coherence or programmatic depth.
Another factor intensifying the strain on representative democracy is the digital environment. While social media platforms initially promised to democratize public discourse, they have in fact created fragmented and polarized spheres of communication (Sunstein, 2017). Algorithms amplify outrage, misinformation spreads faster than correction, and filter bubbles isolate users from dissenting views. Zeynep Tufekci (2017) rightly warns that networked protest, though powerful in mobilization, often lacks the institutional leverage to produce durable change.
In this ecosystem, affect often supersedes argument. Political discourse is increasingly shaped by emotional resonance rather than factual coherence. Trust in institutions collapses, not merely because of poor performance, but due to a structural shift in how authority is perceived and contested.
Thus, representative democracy now finds itself under pressure from both sides: historically marginalized groups demanding a more inclusive society, and alienated majorities demanding a return to simplicity, order, and identity. In this dual crisis, democracy is pulled between the imperatives of inclusion and the backlash of exclusion.
Still, the core question remains: does representative democracy still make sense?
Paradoxically, the answer may be yes. But only if it undergoes deep reform. It must break with dynastic politics and party machinery, and become a truer mirror of society’s pluralism. It needs to reconnect with its purpose—not as a relic of Enlightenment rationalism, but as a living framework to mediate conflict, ensure fairness, and guarantee freedom (Rosanvallon, 2008; Mouffe, 2005).
Renewal must also involve institutional innovation. Mechanisms such as deliberative assemblies, civic juries, and participatory budgeting are no longer utopian experiments but necessary adaptations to rebuild trust. Likewise, the integration of minority voices and the opening of spaces for youth political engagement must become structural priorities, not merely rhetorical gestures.
Representative democracy should not be discarded as a decaying ruin, but renewed as an indispensable horizon—a system capable of withstanding both the tyranny of elites and the tyranny of the crowd.
References
Crouch, C. (2004). Post-Democracy. Cambridge: Polity Press.
Fung, A. (2006). “Varieties of participation in complex governance.” Public Administration Review, 66(s1), 66–75. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1540-6210.2006.00667.x
Madison, J. (1788). The Federalist No. 10. In: A. Hamilton, J. Madison, & J. Jay, The Federalist Papers. New York: Independent Journal.
Mair, P. (2013). Ruling the Void: The Hollowing of Western Democracy. London: Verso.
Manin, B. (1997). The Principles of Representative Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Mouffe, C. (2005). On the Political. London: Routledge.
Mounk, Y. (2018). The People vs. Democracy: Why Our Freedom Is in Danger and How to Save It. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press.
Müller, J.-W. (2016). What Is Populism? Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press.
Norris, P., & Inglehart, R. (2019). Cultural Backlash: Trump, Brexit, and Authoritarian Populism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
Pitkin, H. F. (1967). The Concept of Representation. Berkeley: University of California Press.
Rosanvallon, P. (2008). La légitimité démocratique: Impartialité, réflexivité, proximité. Paris: Seuil.
Sunstein, C. R. (2017). #Republic: Divided Democracy in the Age of Social Media. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press.
Tufekci, Z. (2017). Twitter and Tear Gas: The Power and Fragility of Networked Protest. New Haven: Yale University Press.
Can we truly choose not to feel inferior? In this thought-provoking commentary, Syed Yousha Haider critically examines Eleanor Roosevelt’s famous quote, “No one can make you feel inferior without your consent.” Blending insights from psychology, neuroscience, philosophy, and social theory, Haider explores the limits of agency in the face of trauma, social conditioning, and structural inequality. While celebrating resilience and self-determination, he also challenges oversimplified notions of empowerment. This essay invites readers to reflect on the complex dynamics of self-worth, consent, and resistance in a world where internal struggles are often shaped by forces far beyond the individual.
By Syed Yousha Haider*
Eleanor Roosevelt’s much-quoted maxim—”No one can make you feel inferior without your consent”—has traveled a long way from its origins as a personal empowerment mantra. The quote says that individual choice is more important than what other people think, based on ideas about agency, dignity, and self-concept. But beneath its catchy simplicity lies a philosophical paradox: is it ever in our choice to refuse consent to feelings of inferiority? Are these kinds of feelings, at least in part, caused by social, psychological, and even neurobiological processes that we can’t control? This essay argues that Roosevelt’s maxim, as inspiring as it is, is only partially true. Individual agency is essential to self-perception, but the action of structural forces, psychological conditioning, and automatic cognitive processes complicate the idea that one can simply choose not to feel inferior.
The Appeal of Personal Agency
People still use Roosevelt’s quote because it fits with the liberal humanist idea of the self-governing person. For example, Stoic philosophy heard Epictetus say, “It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.” It seems like there is strength inside despite what is going on outside. Cognitive-behavioral therapy (CBT) is probably the most scientifically-based type of psychotherapy. It also believes that how we feel is based on how we think about things, not the events themselves. This view says that changing the way you talk to yourself can help you get over feelings of inferiority and move on.
Also, there are literally countless examples from history of people who have overcome feelings of inferiority even though the system tried to make them feel less important. Viktor E. Frankl, a survivor of the Holocaust, famously said in his book Man’s Search for Meaning that the last of the human freedoms is “to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances.” Many people point to Frankl’s ability to survive extreme dehumanization as proof that accepting one’s inferiority is a choice..
After serving 27 years in prison for refusing to change his beliefs to suit apartheid’s demands, Nelson Mandela came out of prison with his dignity unharmed and guided South Africa through a peaceful transition. The strength of agency against humiliation is demonstrated by the fact that he was able to maintain his dignity despite institutional racism. After surviving a Taliban assassination attempt, Malala Yousafzai transformed personal hardship into a global movement for girls’ education. Her refusal to submit in the face of patriarchal violence is a brilliant illustration of how victims can become empowered..
The idea that people are powerless in the face of hardship is refuted by the resilience philosophy. The study of learned optimism by Dr. Martin Seligman emphasizes how our mental habits can influence how we react to criticism and failure. People can develop what Seligman refers to as “psychological immunity”—a defense against internalized inferiority—by confronting negative internal monologues and redefining failures as temporary and external. Roosevelt’s ideal can then be seen as psychologically realized through the development of optimism and internal locus of control.
Limits of Consent: Neuropsychological Constraints
However, this utopian vision is obscured by current psychological and neuroscientific research. Cognitive processes related to self-worth are not always under conscious control. The Default Mode Network (DMN) is primarily outside of conscious awareness and is active during self-referential cognition and daydreaming. In order to construct a cohesive sense of self, it is known to combine memories, emotions, and imagined situations, maintaining negative self-beliefs without conscious consent.
Furthermore, unconscious bias affects how we view ourselves from an early age. Implicit Association Tests demonstrate how years of exposure to social stereotypes can cause people to internalize group stereotype attitudes toward members of their own group, such as women being biased against women in positions of power. These are kept in the brain areas responsible for moral and emotional judgments, the prefrontal cortex and the amygdala, demonstrating the neurobiological basis of negative self-perceptions.
Though unconscious, the trauma survivors feel ashamed and inferior. It has been observed that distorted self-perceptions, such as guilt and worthlessness, are more potent than logical thought in people with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). These are neurophysiologic reactions rather than choices, and correcting them usually requires a lengthy therapeutic intervention. In these situations, inferiority is more neurologically motivated than widely accepted.
Additionally, early attachment orientations are crucial in determining self-esteem and vulnerability to feelings of inadequacy, according to affective neuroscience research. A child who experiences emotional abuse or neglect may grow up with a persistent internal schema of worthlessness. The internalized, which was solidified during brain-sensitive developmental stages, restricts the person’s capacity to “withdraw consent” from inferiority complexes as an adult.
Second, feelings of inferiority might have adaptive roots, according to evolutionary psychology. Humans were made to live in small communities where access to resources and partners depended heavily on status and belonging. One adaptation that might have developed in order to survive is hypersensitivity to social rejection. However, this evolutionary baggage now shows up as irrational and habitual feelings of inferiority, especially in hierarchical environments like online forums, workplaces, and schools.
Social and Structural Determinants of Inferiority
In addition to the psychology of the individual, social structures also produce and enforce inferiority. Language, the media, and institutions are all infused with heteronormativity, which tends to dictate who is capable, desirable, or deserving. Symbolic violence, as defined by Pierre Bourdieu, describes how dominant social groups impose meanings that are internalized as acceptable. For example, colonial education systems used to portray colonized people as intellectually inferior; this claim is still present in the disparities in academic accreditation around the world.
Erving Goffman studied how stigma, or the discrediting of people for supposedly deviating from the norm, contributes to feelings of shame and undesirableness. According to his theory, the stigmatized individual absorbs society’s scrutiny and agrees to being inferior out of social pressure rather than choice. This consent is not voluntary; it is coerced.
According to the “stereotype threat,” as defined by social psychologist Claude Steele, people perform less well when they are concerned about reinforcing unfavorable stereotypes about their identity category. For instance, when race is emphasized on tests, African American students do worse—not because they think they are less capable, but rather because the cultural script instills fear, which impairs performance. Such scripts can effectively short-circuit the will by altering behavior and thought.
Another sociocultural phenomenon is groupthink. People will repress contradictory self-concepts in order to preserve group harmony, embracing the flawed consensus. Conventional instances, like discouraging women’s aspirations for education or politics, demonstrate how social norms can force internalization of inferiority.
Furthermore, social media has given rise to new channels for the propagation of inferiority. Social media platforms like Instagram and TikTok propagate idealized beauty standards and manufactured lives, creating a culture of comparison that undermines self-worth. Younger generations, particularly teenage girls, are disproportionately targeted by algorithmic promotion of idealized imagery, which contributes to the rise in anxiety and depression. Here, inferiority is fostered by repeated exposure to distorted norms rather than being elected outright.
Such effects are amplified by intersectionality. The accumulation of marginalization experiences is demonstrated by Kimberlé Crenshaw’s intersectional matrix of oppressive systems, which includes racism, sexism, and classism. Black women who are economically marginalized may encounter overlapping social messages that portray them as inferior in multiple ways. These messages, which are delivered through cultural imagery and institutional norms, carry a cumulative psychological burden that is difficult to deny.
Resisting Inferiority: Possibility and Limits
Resistance is evident in opposition to these limits. The recovery of the imposed identity of inferiority has already been demanded by feminist and postcolonial theorists. “Caring for myself is not self-indulgence, it is self-preservation,” as Audre Lorde insists, is a rejection of internalizing the condemnation of the world. Black Pride and LGBTQ+ affirmations are just two examples of grassroots movements that have successfully challenged hegemonic discourses and empowered people to reject internalized oppression.
The solution to this difficulty lies in education. According to Paulo Freire’s Pedagogy of the Oppressed, the oppressed must be able to recognize internalized inferiority brought on by systemic injustice and recover their dignity via critical thinking, or conscientization. Only with time, resources, and support groups—things that not everyone has access to—can it be accomplished.
The ability to challenge hegemonic narratives and reinterpret value on their own terms has been made possible by cyberspace. Default inferiority narratives are countered by discourses like #BlackGirlMagic and #DisabledAndProud. In addition to being empowering in and of themselves, these claims also have a cumulative effect by changing the broader cultural environment.
However, not all attempts at resistance are successful. The enduring resilience of systemic powers is demonstrated by the continued existence of racial profiling, wage inequality, and underrepresentation in leadership positions. One’s identity is typically determined by societal approval, even if you fight valiantly against subordinating ideologies. The internal conflict gets harder to sustain when one lacks acceptance and a sense of belonging.
However, resilience-building programs enable psychological resistance. Education and mental health programs that promote self-advocacy, growth mindsets, and trauma-informed care are essential. Instead of opposing systemic forces, these empower individuals to challenge internalized narratives. Roosevelt’s assertion is interpreted by adults as an invitation to build internal strength in tandem with structural change, rather than as a rejection of putting up with oppression.
The Philosophical Implications of Consent
Roosevelt only used the word “consent” to refer to a deliberate action. However, in ethics and the law, consent must be given voluntarily and free from coercion. Consent to be in a subordinate position cannot be based on psychological conditioning, neurobiology, or societal power dynamics that reduce one’s agency and awareness.
Here, it’s important to distinguish between “responsibility” and “causality.” One can be held accountable for facing their own shortcomings over time, even if they were never the direct cause of them. This nuanced stance maintains the moral requirement of agency while rejecting the all-powerful forces that exist within our inner selves.
The “dialogical self” theory of philosopher Charles Taylor makes consent more difficult to understand. According to Taylor, identity is socially constructed through interactions with other people rather than something that is determined for oneself. Feelings of inferiority could be exogenously programmed rather than endogenously generated if selfhood is relational. Roosevelt’s statement may therefore be exaggerated in light of the extent to which an individual can create their own sense of self-worth.
Jean-Paul Sartre and other existentialist philosophers support radical freedom and self-creation. His theory that “existence precedes essence” holds that people must create their identities consciously since they are not born with predetermined natures. According to this viewpoint, willpower alone is sufficient to overcome inferiority complexes. But Sartre also introduced the idea of “bad faith,” which acknowledges the limitations of volition and refers to people lying to themselves in order to escape the responsibility that comes with freedom. In The Ethics of Belief, philosopher William Clifford makes the case that it is immoral to hold beliefs in the absence of adequate evidence. When used in this context, inferiority complexes that are based on erroneous social or psychological assumptions are illogical and ought to be disregarded. However, Thomas Nagel argues that human subjectivity cannot be avoided; irrational feelings, such as inferiority, are.
Conclusion
A powerful affirmation of human dignity and inner strength is the Eleanor Roosevelt maxim. However, it would be oversimplifying the combined influence of psychological, biological, and social factors on self-perception to claim that no one can ever make us feel inferior if we do not consent. Although agency still functions, it must be understood in the context of limitations. Since Roosevelt’s assertion that reassertion of value is as much a matter of will as it is of struggle against forces of inheritance, the reality is not so much a question of its complete cancellation or confirmation. Therefore, empowerment is more about knowing on what terms to give consent than it is about refusing it.
(*) Syed Yousha Haider is a student with a growing interest in understanding the human mind and behavior. In his own words, he has always been curious about what drives people to think, feel, and act the way they do. This curiosity, combined with his desire to understand himself and others better, naturally led him to explore the field of psychology. While he is still learning, he finds joy in asking questions, noticing patterns in emotions, and reflecting on the deeper reasons behind everyday choices. For him, psychology is more than a subject—it is a way to connect with people, understand their stories, and perhaps even help make sense of his own.
The surprising midterm victories of Benigno Aquino IV and Kiko Pangilinan—both underdog candidates backed by the progressive Pink Movement—signal a potential turning point in Philippine politics. Despite polling poorly before the vote, both secured top spots in the Senate race, fueled largely by a mobilized youth electorate and disillusionment with traditional power blocs. The resurgence of the Pink Movement, rooted in civic resistance during the Duterte era, now finds new momentum amid internal fractures in the Marcos-Duterte alliance. While questions remain about the opposition’s long-term cohesion and whether these gains reflect lasting ideological shifts, the current momentum and demographic advantage suggest the Pink Movement—and the youth—could play a decisive role in shaping the 2028 national elections.
By Bernard Allan V. Garcia*
The most recent midterm elections in the Philippines came as a surprise to many. Benigno Aquino IV and Kiko Pangilinan—both seasoned politicians yet widely considered underdogs—secured spots in the Magic 12. Weeks and months before the elections, major polling firms in the Philippines had not projected them to make the cut. Pulse Asia’s final pre-election survey placed Aquino in the 11th–18th range and Pangilinan slightly behind in the 13th–20th range, both outside the winning circle (Pulse Asia Research, 2025). Similarly, the SWS Survey predicted that neither would secure a seat (Cupin, 2025). However, unofficial results revealed a dramatic shift: Aquino placed second and Pangilinan fifth. This unexpected outcome has since sparked widespread discussion on what led to such a turn of events.
The Pink Movement
The ‘Pink Movement’ is not an overnight project established by the opposition; it is a product of years of suppression and human rights abuse. To understand the movement, one must walk down memory lane and go back to 2016 when Rodrigo Roa Duterte was elected to power. Many controversial policies were made, including the infamous Oplan: Tokhang, a systematic government crackdown on illegal drugs that resulted in numerous extrajudicial killings. Most of the victims of this government policy are from the vulnerable sectors of the population, including low to lower-middle-income communities. The administration also made multiple attempts to silence media companies, activists, and educational institutions, while introducing a new systemic plague in the form of propaganda groups that distort truth and facts. In one notable instance, the government targeted activist organizations, and the practice of red-tagging has become a recurring theme in Philippine politics, radio broadcasts, and late-night press conferences.
The Duterte administration also saw a highly controversial shift in foreign policy—from a traditionally American-leaning stance to a China-oriented approach, all under the banner of an “independent foreign policy.” During this uneasy transition, the Philippines found itself in a precarious position: efforts to assert its claims in the West Philippine Sea were frequently met with Chinese aggression, yet the government consistently downplayed the tensions, portraying the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) as a good friend of the Philippines.
However, the worst is yet to come, as the Philippines suffered great losses during the COVID-19 pandemic. At some points during the pandemic and global shutdown, the Philippines had multiple surges of new cases. The evident lack of preparations manifested in sub-standard medical facilities, a lack of manpower, insufficient medical responses, and episodes of late-night press conferences. On top of all these difficulties, the Duterte-backed Congress also revoked the franchise of the local media giant, ABS-CBN Corporation, further dismantling information dissemination in the country. Needless to say, Filipinos had a rough six-year journey, and the power struggles of the vulnerable population were pretty evident. Along the lines of problems and incompetence, the Philippines had a glimpse of a silver lining.
In 2022, the Pink Movement took fruition, from small numbers of young volunteers to having sectoral branches in almost every local government unit, the movement became a force. Leni Robredo, the then-incumbent vice president, became the face of the Pink Movement. Her presidential candidacy was backed by the youth, advocacy groups, multiple political parties, independents, and many academic institutions. Political rallies related to her campaign were attended by millions of people from different sectoral communities of the Philippines. Celebrities and public figures also shared their support for her candidacy. Despite having the elections during the pandemic, people showed up in support of good governance and to put an end to the return of the Marcoses to power.
Despite gallant efforts, the Pink Movement did not succeed. Robredo lost the presidential seat against Marcos, and Sara Duterte won the vice presidency against Kiko Pangilinan. However, the 2022 loss of the Pink Movement not only planted seeds for the next election but also established a huge demographic advantage – the youth vote.
Youth Vote and Demographic Advantage
The foundation of Robredo’s 2022 Pink Movement is young. Most of the members of this movement are students, young entrepreneurs, and youth activists. Given that the demographic is young and the most recent 2025 midterm elections were just three years apart from the 2022 national elections, the solid foundation remained strong. Young individuals who were not able to vote in 2022 are now more than eligible to vote. The bulk of the Pink Movement’s foundation was carried over to the next election.
It is also interesting that the Pink Movement, with its hope for a more inclusive society, is backed by academics and student organizations. In several polling surveys conducted in universities, candidates affiliated with the Pink Movement top the surveys. Other left-leaning candidates, who are not necessarily affiliated with the Pink Movement, also top the surveys.
Political Climate and Political Ambivalence
The Pink Movement also benefited from the current political climate of the Philippines. The once uniteam partnership of President Marcos and Vice President Duterte dwindled, and the feud became pretty evident, resulting in a divide in the Congress and Senate. The two camps also introduced their senatorial lineups, both having an incomplete lineup of 12 candidates. It left an open opportunity for Filipinos to choose a better-suited candidate to complete the Magic 12.
It is also important to note that Aquino, in his interviews before the elections, took an ambivalent position on many social issues concerning the political climate of the country. In one instance, when asked regarding his position on Vice President Sara Duterte’s impeachment, he clarified that Filipinos are more interested in more important discussions, such as food, education, and basic services, than the political feud between the two political families (News5Everywhere, 2025). This ambivalent position, which is clearly the opposite of his character from the 2022 elections, is a personal choice. The recognition of the window of opportunity demands a safe and secure way to the goal of getting elected.
The Challenge of Sustaining the Momentum
Aquino and Pangilinan’s entry in the Magic 12 of the 20th Congress is a celebratory milestone for Filipino voters, more so for the left-leaning political parties in the Philippines. Other than Aquino and Pangilinan, the left also won other seats, including three seats for the Akbayan Party (social democratic party) and one seat for the Mamamayang Liberal (liberal). Despite this win and a demographic dividend on their side, it is still a question whether the left has enough gas to turn the tide in the next national elections set to happen in 2028. It remains a challenge to unite a fragmented opposition, each with a distinct left ideology. A prime example of this is the never-ending debate between the national democratic organisations and the social democratic organisations.
It is also difficult to say that the opposition has enough gas to succeed in the 2028 national elections because it could be that the win this year is due to the window of opportunity posed by the current political climate and not entirely due to a change in political ideals for many Filipinos. Also, there is not enough evidence on how many of the youth voted for the Pink Movement. Nevertheless, the win today is a statement that the left is gaining momentum, just not clear if it would be enough to push boundaries in 2028.
(*) Bernard Allan V. Garciahas a Master degree in Population Studies at University of the Philippines, Diliman and Early Career Researcher at Scalabrini Migration Center. Email: bvgarcia2@up.edu.ph
News5Everywhere (Director). (2025, February 11). “Bam Aquino sa VP Sara Duterte impeachment: Hindi siya isyu nung mga kababayan natin.” [Video recording]. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AZRuFIP5pG4
Pulse Asia Research. (2025). “April 2025 Nationwide Survey on the May 2025 Elections.”
Marine Le Pen’s conviction for embezzling EU funds might have marked a legal defeat—but politically, it became a narrative victory. In her commentary, Julie Van Elslander explores how France’s far-right leader transformed her trial into a populist spectacle of persecution, mobilizing public anger and institutional distrust. By reframing judicial accountability as elite conspiracy, Le Pen advanced a post-truth strategy that defied factual condemnation and resonated deeply with disillusioned voters. This timely analysis illuminates the broader phenomenon of populist resilience in the face of scandal, showing how legal consequences can be strategically repurposed as political capital by populist actors within Europe’s increasingly contested democratic landscape.
By Julie Van Elslander*
Introduction
On March 31, 2025, Marine Le Pen, long-time leader of France’s far-right National Rally, was convicted by the criminal court of Paris for the misappropriation of an estimated €4.6 million in European Parliament funds (Ledroit, 2025). Sentenced to a heavy condemnation, Marine Le Pen suffered a significant legal and political blow. Yet, instead of weakening her influence or undermining her party’s credibility, the trial became a platform for Le Pen to reaffirm her political narrative. Despite legal conviction and moral discredit, the National Rally maintained political relevance by reframing the sentence as an element of political persecution – raising a question: How does a legal defeat become a populist narrative victory?
At the core, this narrative dynamic is emblematic of what scholars qualify of post-truth populism: The transformation of political culture by the devaluation of factual correctness over emotional appeal (Conrad & Hálfdanarson, 2023). In a context where public discourse is increasingly shaped by the logic of “alternative facts” – a concept introduced by Trump’s counselor in 2017 (Gajanan, 2017) – Le Pen’s trial is another example of the way post-truth populists challenge liberal democracies.
Rather than interrogating the legal dimensions of guilt or innocence, this analysis focuses on the populist discursive strategies through which Marine Le Pen’s trial was reframed in the public sphere, and how those shaped citizens’ political thinking (Aslanidis, 2016). The trial serves not simply as a juridical event, but also as a communicative site where competing narratives about power, legitimacy and truth are constructed.
The Case of Le Pen’s Trial – Facts and Only Facts
Among twenty-four others, nine ex-MEPs and twelve parliamentary assistants from the National Rally were trialed for “embezzlement of public funds” and “complicity in the embezzlement of public funds” from 2004 to 2016 (Maad, 2025). In this case, the court recognized that the European Parliament’s public funds were misappropriated in order to remunerate employees working for the party management under fictitious contracts, rather than related to the European parliamentary activity – as it is normally required for those collaborators (ibid.).
Marine Le Pen was sentenced to a €100.000 fine, two years under house arrest while wearing an electronic ankle bracelet, additional two-year suspended sentence, and five years’ ineligibility for public office with immediate effect. Le Pen’s heavy condemnation was due to what the court’s president as qualified as her “central role” in this case: “at the heart of this system since 2009, Marine Le Pen has signed up with authority and determination in the operation established by her father, in which was participating since 2004” (Dao, 2025).
Le Pen will appeal the verdict, but she will remain ineligible and could be ruled out of the 2027 presidential elections. She won’t serve the house arrest until every appeal is exhausted but the ban on running for office will be implemented immediately despite her legal challenge.
The irony of the case is striking: Marine Le Pen, who used to call for life ineligibility for elected officials convicted of embezzlement or corruption (Brault, 2025), now contests the legitimacy of her own sentence – but how does such a reversal become not a source of discredit, but a tool for reaffirming political legitimacy?
Not Guilty, Just Targeted? Le Pen’s Populist Response to Conviction
Despite her conviction, Marine Le Pen managed to maintain her political standing by discursively reframing the charges into a populist narrative of persecution and resistance. Ever since the trial’s deliberation, Le Pen has not stopped claiming her innocence, repeatedly insisting the judges were “mistaken” and reducing the issue to a simple “administrative disagreement with the European Parliament” that involved “no personal enrichment” (Marchal, 2025). Yet, the tribunal clearly stated that although the actions did not generate direct personal enrichment, they constituted serious breach of integrity and democratic principles, involving deception of both the European Parliament and voters (Sicard, 2025). By providing financial benefits to the National Rally, the stolen funds allowed it to maintain political influence and electoral advantages for over a decade (ibid.).
The judges justified the use of the ineligibility sentence and its exécution provisoire (which allows the sentence to be enforced even before an appeal), emphasizing that the defendants had expressed no recognition of their violation of the law, and the court had a duty to ensure that “elected officials, like any other subject, do not benefit from a preferential regime incompatible with the trust sought by citizens in political life” (France info, 2025). In 2023 alone, around 16.000 ineligibility sentences were issued in France, 639 of which included the exécution provisoire (France info, 2025a). While such measure is applied selectively – and in about 4% of the cases – it is far from exceptional (ibid.). Indeed, several other high-profile political figures in France, such as Nicolas Sarkozy or François Fillon, have been sentenced to ineligibility in recent years (Louis, 2025).
However, in the populist narrative, these precedents are rarely acknowledged. By using terms such as a “tyranny of the judges” (Cossard, 2025), the National Rally reinforced the idea that Le Pen is being unfairly targeted. The rhetoric implies an extraordinary sanction used to silence political opposition: the trial isn’t presented as a neutral legal process, but as the proof of a biased system – with Le Pen denouncing a “political decision,” a practice “we believed to be reserved for authoritarian regimes” (Vignal, 2025). The judiciary becomes just another part of the “elite” that is supposedly trying to stop her from acceding to the Elysée: “the system has released the nuclear bomb. If it uses such a powerful weapon against us, it is obviously because we are about to win the elections” (A.B., 2025). Here, Le Pen’s reframing does not deny the factual events themselves; rather, she strategically reinterprets them because openly acknowledging illegality could undermine her political legitimacy and moral authority.
This discursive approach fits neatly into what researchers call post-truth populism: The idea isn’t just to reject facts but to question who gets to decide what’s true in the first place(Ylä-Anttila, 2018). Populist leaders like Le Pen challenge the credibility and intentions of traditional fact-producers – such as judges, journalists or experts – to position themselves as more trustworthy (Mahmutović & Lovec, 2024). By stating that their version of facts are biased, corrupt or politically motivated, populist leaders construct alternative narratives, in which facts are selectively reinterpreted in ways that support their political agenda. The aim is not necessarily to prove their narrative is objectively true, but rather to undermine opposing ones as suspicious and irrelevant.
This type of rhetoric fits within a common populist logic, where courts and other oversight bodies are seen as tools of an unaccountable elite trying to undermine the will of the “real people” – a homogeneous group not defined by citizenship, but by symbolic alignment with the populist cause (Arato, 2017). By framing her conviction as political persecution, Le Pen not only shields herself from public blame, but also primes her supporters to view the case as of a “stolen election”.
Why Marine Le Pen Wasn’t ‘Cancelled’: Political Loyalty in a ‘Stolen’ Election
Marine Le Pen may have been convicted in court, but in the arena of public opinion, she proved to be remarkably cancel-proof. This resilience is rooted in the post-truth populist strategy that places narrative above norms, and emotional appeal above factual truth. It particularly stemmed among her supporters, for whom the verdict was seen as a symbol of political persecution, and an attempt to steal the 2027 election – a narrative that quickly found concrete expression in public reactions. On March 31, 2025, a few hours after Le Pen’s conviction, a French national news broadcast captured street interviews where multiple citizens reacted with shock and outrage, describing the verdict as “personal” and a way to “take her out” of the presidential race (TF1info, 2025).
An online petition launched by National Rally, titled “Save democracy, save Marine” (Rassemblement National, 2025) rapidly gathered thousands of signatures and rallied support over social media, but its message was not just about supporting Le Pen – it was about defending her voters’ rights. In an open letter promoting the petition, Jordan Bardella, the young president of the National Rally, described the conviction as an attack against voters: “They are trying to prevent a candidacy supported by millions of French people, which is well ahead in all the polls. They deprive millions of voters of their choice and therefore their freedom” (Krupa, 2025). This sense of disenfranchisement was further amplified at a public rally held a week later, during which Bardella addressed the crowd and further defended Le Pen as a candidate of the people, framing her conviction as an attempt to prevent the National Rally from acceding to power (ibid.). The conviction, as he claimed, was not just about her but about the right of French voters to choose their leader. The rally became a platform where Le Pen was portrayed not only as a victim but as a representative of silenced voters.
This narrative fits the typical populist discourse, which emerges from a perceived failure of representation (Rosanvallon, 2020) and frames political reality as a fundamental conflict between a corrupted elite and the common people, “whose mobilization is presented as the only solution” (Aslanidis, 2016) to regain sovereignty. Here, the mobilization efforts are largely symbolic: Neither a petition nor public rally could change the judicial outcome, as courts are not influenced by popularity. However, their aim is to reinforce the idea that the verdict is unjust, judicial independence compromised and that the electors are the true victims of this case. Those efforts function as political and social tools – not legal ones – allowing Le Pen’s supporters to transform outrage into collective action, and to signal strength and solidarity.
This is a key aspect of post-truth populism: The National Rally’s version of events is framed as more authentic because it taps into a deeper, widespread sense of institutional distrust (Harsin, 2024). When ordinary citizens feel that traditional institutions no longer represent them fairly, populist leaders like Le Pen often claim to embody the will of the people directly, calling for diverse forms of direct democracy (ibid.). Within this logic, portraying Le Pen’s sentence as exceptional and biased doesn’t require evidence – it simply needs to fit the broader story that her supporters believe: That she, like them, is being unfairly treated by a system that no longer serves them.
Yet, while this narrative mobilized Le Pen’s supporters within France, the impact of her conviction also reverberated beyond national borders, sparking polarized reactions at the European level.
A European Issue with Global Repercussions
With the National Rally’s discourse focusing on national stakes, the European legal affair was reframed as a national political issue. That is, in part, due to the nature of the European Union’s legal proceedings. Even though the European Parliament’s public funds are distributed through the institutions, MEPs are elected nationally and therefore reside within national jurisdiction. The investigation was first opened by the OLAF – the European Anti-Fraud Office, an independent entity – in 2014 (Bouquet, 2025), but criminal prosecution and sentencing remained the responsibility of national courts. Although the matter originated at the European level, with the European Parliament lifting Le Pen’s immunity following a referral to French authorities, the fact that the trial was handled nationally contributed to the widespread perception that it was a purely domestic affair. This procedural pathway ultimately placed the case within a broader discursive shift, reframing the trial as a French political controversy – judges, media and legal discourse – all nationally situated.
Moreover, the French discourse largely undermined the collective European harm caused by the embezzlement. While the European Parliament – the civil plaintiff in the case – announced it “took note” of the decision and declined to comment further, Le Pen’s conviction quickly gathered support among fellow populist leaders, particularly from far-right figure such as Viktor Orbán, Matteo Salvini, and Donald Trump. Orbán expressed direct solidarity by stating “Je suis Marine!” – a phrase typically used to express support and mourning for victims – while Salvini denounced the verdict as a “declaration of war by Brussels” (Les Echos, 2025). Trump compared Le Pen’s legal troubles to his own, labeling it a “witch hunt” and accusing European elites of using the judiciary to silence political opposition (Le Monde, 2025).
These international endorsements were not merely supportive gesture; they became central elements of the populist narrative surrounding Le Pen’s case. While the trial was framed in France as a part of a broader struggle between national sovereignty and a hostile elite, this international support further cast her as a symbol of resistance against a corrupt system – reinforcing the idea of a national and European political conspiracy targeting her.
The same divisive framing extended into the European Parliament itself. During the plenary session held shortly after the verdict, several Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) from the Patriots for Europe group – Le Pen’s European political family – expressed their support for Le Pen, condemning the conviction as undemocratic and broadly questioning the state of the rule of law in Europe. Hungarian MEP András László notably accused the “Brussels elite” of trying to “legally sabotage a far-right politician” because of her patriotism and opposition to a “globalist elite” (European Parliament, 2025) – aligning with the narrative of persecution. In contrast, MEPs from other political groups welcomed the conviction as a critical step in combating corruption within the institution. German MEP Daniel Freund notably qualified the Le Pen’s actions as “the biggest fraud case in the history of the European Parliament” (ibid.).
This polarized reaction within the European Parliament highlighted the trial’s dual nature: Legally, it was a case of embezzlement involving European funds, but politically, it became a battleground over competing narratives. For Le Pen’s allies, it symbolized a struggle against an oppressive European elite; for her critics, it was a long-overdue act of accountability.
Indeed, Le Pen’s case comes within the broader context of corruption scandals that have been shaking the European Parliament itself. The Qatargate scandal in 2022, involving allegations of bribes paid by Qatar to influence European lawmakers, and the Huawei case in 2023, where Chinese lobbying was accused of seeking favorable policies through financial incentives, exposed the vulnerability of European institutions to corruption. These scandals not only undermined the Parliament’s authority as a democratic institution of EU decision-making but also deepened the citizens’ distrust in EU governance – a distrust that populists are quick to weaponize.
Conclusion
The Le Pen case is more than a legal scandal – it is a test of the resilience of European institutions against populist narratives that thrive on distrust. It is not merely about one politician reframing her conviction as persecution; it is a case study in how a legal process can be transformed into a battleground of competing truths. At its core, this case reveals a deeper conflict between factual accountability and symbolic politics.
Ultimately, the stakes go beyond Le Pen herself. The crisis of trust she has exploited is part of a broader European problem. As Qatargate and the Huawei scandal have shown, European institutions are not immune to corruption, and this vulnerability has fueled perceptions of institutional hypocrisy. It is this perceived hypocrisy that populist leaders weaponize, transforming legitimate accountability efforts into narratives of persecution. Ultimately, the Le Pen case is a message of political legitimacy: In an era of post-truth populism, the verdict in court may matter less than the verdict in public opinion.
(*) Julie Van Elslander is a double master’s student in European Governance (Sciences Po Grenoble) and Politics and Public Administration (Universität Konstanz), with a strong interest in how democracies respond to challenges like populism, post-truth politics, and institutional distrust. She has contributed to European-level research projects on political communication, corruption, and democratic accountability, and currently works as a research intern at the Center of International Relations (University of Ljubljana).
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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.
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.
In his compelling analysis, Professor Ibrahim Ozturk explores how “Trumpism 2.0” and a multipolar world order are challenging the foundations of German and Japanese capitalism. As the US shifts toward protectionism, economic nationalism, and corporate oligarchy, both countries—once revitalized by American support after WWII—must now reassess their strategic and economic futures. Ozturk examines how trade wars, supply chain disruptions, and declining US cooperation threaten their export-driven models. From demographic decline to digital transformation, Germany and Japan face urgent structural reforms. This timely commentary not only maps the common and unique risks confronting these two economic giants but also outlines actionable strategies to maintain resilience in a fragmented world.
I argued in my commentary that “Trumpism 2.0” marks a fundamental shift in global capitalism, blending nationalist protectionism, corporate oligarchy, and digital feudalism. The United States (U.S.) is transitioning from ‘neutral’ state capitalism to a model where government policies explicitly serve dominant private entities, eroding economic democracy and consolidating monopolistic power. This transformation deepens domestic inequality while driving international economic fragmentation, trade wars, and strategic decoupling. Meanwhile, the Global South is asserting greater autonomy, challenging Western dominance, and reshaping economic alliances. If these trends persist, escalating geopolitical tensions, supply chain disruptions, and financial instability may define the coming decades. Yet, this period of turbulence—reminiscent of the 1930s—also presents an opportunity for systemic change, though it raises the risk of large-scale global conflict.
This process will also challenge German and Japanese capitalism, distinct derivatives of America’s preferences after World War II and shaped by the demands and constraints of the Cold War context and the mentalities and cultural dynamics of German and Japanese societies.
Considering new challenges, this commentary reveals a potential roadmap for German and Japanese capitalism. First, the article compares the characteristics of American and Japanese capitalism. Next, it examines the role of the US in revitalizing the struggling German and Japanese economies. The third section addresses the common and unique issues these countries face, along with the effects of the Trump Administration and a US-less world. The fourth section summarizes the possible responses from Germany and Japan.
Three Models of Capitalism under Flux
To compare Japanese, German, and American capitalism, one must examine their economic structures, government-business relations, corporate governance, labor markets, and cultural influences. As Robert Gilpin puts it, American, German, and Japanese capitalism embody distinct models shaped by historical, cultural, and institutional contexts. American capitalism, a Liberal Market Economy (LME), is highly market-driven and individualistic, characterized by minimal government intervention, shareholder-focused businesses, a flexible labor market, and a strong entrepreneurial culture, fostering innovation and financial dominance but also leading to corporate volatility, weaker social safety nets, and economic instability.
On the other hand, German capitalism, a Coordinated Market Economy (CME), follows a stakeholder-oriented model with strong labor unions, long-term investment strategies, and an export-driven manufacturing sector, ensuring stability, high-quality production, and social welfare, though facing challenges in labor market rigidity, trade dependency, and adapting to disruptive technologies.
Similarly, Japanese capitalism, a form of Developmental State Capitalism, is rooted in state-business coordination, the keiretsu corporate system, lifetime employment traditions, and a focus on incremental innovation, enabling industrial stability and technological leadership but struggling with an aging population, stagnant wages, and slow digital transformation.
Each capitalist model has distinct strengths and weaknesses: US capitalism is highly dynamic, fostering innovation and financial dominance but prone to volatility and inequality; German capitalism offers stability and social equity but lacks flexibility; and Japanese capitalism prioritizes long-term stability and industrial coordination but adapts slowly to change. While each system has trade-offs, nations often adjust their models over time. On the other hand, in the modern era, American influence played a significant role in shaping the German and Japanese models, and it is exerting pressure for change in another direction now.
America’s Revival of Japan and Germany
Germany’s assertive expansionism in Europe and Japan’s in Asia, driven by an obsession with becoming a leading global powerhouse during the first half of the 20th century, led both countries into the catastrophe of World War II. However, despite having inflicted severe defeats on them and initially signing humiliating surrender agreements that deeply restricted their rights to self-governance, independence, and sovereignty, the US, which emerged as the new hegemonic power—replacing Britain—did not choose to “punish” these nations after the war, due to the new global power contestations. Throughout the Cold War, the US considered the spread of communism the greatest threat to its hegemony and democracy, capitalism, and the free market economy. In response, it took steps to rebuild Europe, particularly Germany, and in Asia, Japan. By doing so, the US provided both nations a lifeline after the most devastating destruction in their histories, fundamentally changing their fate in favor of democracy and economic development.
Both countries were rebuilt through American economic aid, market access, and security guarantees, which allowed them to focus on economic growth rather than military spending. In terms of Japan, the US contributed to its economic development and industrialization via its post-war economic reconstruction through Marshall Aids, the war boom that came with the Korean War, and access to the US market with a Most Favored Nation status (MFN).
Starting with Japan, firstunderUS occupation, led by General Douglas MacArthur’s SCAP (Supreme Commander for the Allied Powers), Japan’seconomic reconstruction period (1945–1952) involved
Structural reforms like the demilitarization and restructuring of its economy.
Land reforms that redistributed land from landlords to tenant farmers improved agricultural productivity.
The dissolution of Zaibatsu, large conglomerates that supported Japanese atrocities in Asia, aimed to dismantle industrial monopolies; however, later, keiretsu networks emerged, but this time, contributed to the development of a civilian and trade-oriented economy through the formerly well-established discipline and perseverance.
Labor reforms promoted unionization and strengthened worker rights. However, that measure was reversed after Japan’s alliance with the US against the expansion of communism in Asia.
Implementing the Dodge Plan 1949 aimed at fiscal austerity to manage inflation and stabilize Japan’s currency. As a result, the plan established a fixed exchange rate (1 USD = 360 yen), making Japanese exports competitive.
Second, the measures’ first significant and advantageous outcome emerged duringthe Korean War Boom (1950–1953), when the US war effort in Korea turned Japan into a vital supply base, leading to rapid industrial growth. In this context,heavy industries (steel, machinery, textiles) thrived as Japan became a supplier of military goods. Moreover, US military protection under the US-Japan Security Treaty (1951) freed Japan from defense spending, allowing it to focus entirely on economic growth.
Third,the expansion of the Japanese production economy, characterized by a strong export focus, extended beyond the market established by the Allied forces in Korea. Notably, the MFN status allowed Japan access to the US market and supported its economic integration from the 1950s to the 1970s. In addition to full access to American markets, which enabled companies like Toyota, Sony, and Honda to grow globally, technology transfers and guidance from US firms helped Japan modernize its industries. Substantial US investment in Japanese sectors facilitated technological upgrades, and by the 1980s, Japan had become the world’s second-largest economy, challenging even the US in some areas. With government-industry coordination (MITI—Ministry of International Trade and Industry), Japan’s Economic Miracle (1955–1980s), focused on export-led growth and high-quality manufacturing, emerged prominently.
In the case of Germany,first,American support for the war-thorned German economy included the Marshall Plan(1948–1952), which envisaged the disbursement of $1.4 billion (part of Europe’s $13 billion US aid package). The fund helped rebuild factories, roads, and energy infrastructure destroyed during the war. Like Japan,currency reform (1948) helped introduce the Deutsche Mark, replacing the unstable Reichsmark and stabilizing inflation.
Second,West Germany’s membership in NATO (1955) allowed a US military presence and security umbrella, which meant Germany could spend less on defense and more on industry. The Cold War made West Germany a key US ally, ensuring sustained economic and military aid.
The third significant contribution stemmed fromGermany’s access to the U.S. market.The US encouraged trade with Europe (EEC in 1957, which later became the EU), integrating West Germany into global markets.Moreover,US investments in the German industry strengthened the growth of advanced manufacturing (e.g., Siemens, Volkswagen, BASF).
Consequently,technological advancements and innovations enabled Germany to become an export powerhouse in manufacturing. They fueled GDP growth at 8–10% annually during the 1950s, culminating in the so-called West German Economic Miracle(Wirtschaftswunder, 1950s–1970s).This era, alongwithLudwig Erhard’s free-market policies and US support, led to rising wages and improved living standards. By the 1970s, Germany had emerged as the world’s third-largest economy, boasting robust automobile, machinery, and chemical sectors.
The US Impact on specific industries in Japan and Germany
Automobile industry:After World War II, the US played a crucial role in rebuilding and shaping the economies of Japan and West Germany, particularly in industries like automobiles, technology, and finance. This support was driven by Cold War strategy—strengthening allies against communism—and economic pragmatism, ensuring both nations became stable markets and production hubs.
Technology transfers, quality management, and access to the U.S. market were the three most critical contributions to the automotive industry.Among other factors, introducing modern management and production techniques, such as W. Edwards Deming’s quality control principles, formed the backbone of the Japanese Total Quality Management (TQM) revolution, which enabled Japanese automakers to dominate the global market. Additionally, the US opened its market to Japanese cars, allowing brands like Toyota and Honda to thrive with fuel-efficient, high-quality vehicles, particularly after the 1973 Oil Crisis when American consumers looked for alternatives to fuel-hungry domestic cars. However, Japan’s MFN status almost culminated with the Plaza Accord (1985), when the US pressured Japan to revalue the Yen, making exports more expensive and prompting Japan to establish factories in the US, which led to direct investment and job creation.
Like Japan, the precise contribution of the US to the automobile industry in Germany originated from the partnership between Daimler-Benz and Ford. Also, American capital and expertise played a pivotal role in revitalizing companies such as Volkswagen, which had fallen into disrepair after WWII. Through transatlantic trade and global expansion, the US emerged as a crucial export destination, allowing German luxury brands like BMW and Mercedes to dominate the premium segment.
Technology and Electronics: Japan’s electronics giants, such as Sony, Panasonic, and Toshiba, benefited from US military R&D spillovers and Cold War-era procurement. However, the US-Japan trade war in the 1980s later limited their dominance in the semiconductor market. Meanwhile, Germany’s industrial powerhouses, including Siemens and Bosch, regained global market access through US investment, with NATO and defense contracts fueling demand for their precision engineering.
Financial and Banking Sectors: The US tolerated Japan’s keiretsu system, where conglomerates like Mitsubishi and Sumitomo were linked to banks, enabling rapid industrialization. However, in the 1980s, it encouraged Japan to deregulate its banking sector, contributing to the asset bubble that burst in the 1990s. Similarly, the U.S. supported Germany’s financial reintegration by promoting Deutsche Bank’s global expansion and stabilizing the Deutsche Mark through the Bretton Woods system, aiding Germany’s integration into the international economy.
In conclusion, US economic support was crucial in transforming Japan and Germany into global industrial powerhouses, with Japan benefiting from technology transfers and market access. At the same time, Germany rebuilt its engineering and manufacturing sectors through US aid. Without US assistance, market access, and security guarantees, neither nation could have industrialized as rapidly post-WWII, highlighting a US-driven framework that still influences their economies today.
However, to understand how Trump and the emerging multipolar world—discussed in the next section—might shape the future of German and Japanese capitalism, it is crucial to recognize that the US approach to these economies reflects both global dynamics and America’s domestic interests. Since the 1980s, especially after the collapse of communism, the US has influenced the economic trajectory of these nations, which it began to see as “systemic rivals,” through trade disputes, financial pressures, and currency interventions. In the evolving, leaderless global order—often referred to as the “New Cold War Era”—changes in US strategy seem inevitable, bringing significant consequences for both Germany and Japan.
Germany and Japan under the Trump Administration and US-less World
Some of the problems and challenges facing the German and Japanese economies will be structural, some conjunctural, and some, it seems, will be Trump-related. Thus, the German and Japanese economies face a mix of common and unique challenges. Both countries struggle with similar demographic issues, such as aging populations and declining birth rates, leading to labor shortages, pressure on social welfare systems, and increasing healthcare costs, all of which impede long-term economic growth. Additionally, both nations face obstacles in modernizing their economies through digital innovation, with Germany contending with outdated infrastructure and excessive bureaucracy. At the same time, Japan wrestles with traditional work cultures and the slow adoption of AI and digital technologies. Furthermore, both economies heavily depend on exports, making them vulnerable to global slowdowns and geopolitical risks—Germany’s reliance on China and Japan’s exposure to US-China tensions exacerbate these vulnerabilities.
However, each country faces its distinct challenges. Germany’s energy crisis—from the shift away from Russian energy and delays in renewable infrastructure—has increased costs, impacting its industrial competitiveness. The transition to electric vehicles (EVs) and high manufacturing expenses have weakened Germany’s position amid fierce competition from China and the US. Meanwhile, bureaucracy hampers innovation, particularly in the public sector and among SMEs. In contrast, Japan is dealing with stagnant wages and deflation, which restrict consumer spending and hinder economic growth. The country also faces high debt levels, with government debt exceeding 250% of GDP, raising concerns about long-term fiscal sustainability. Additionally, Japan’s dependence on energy imports and raw materials and supply chain vulnerabilities, especially semiconductor disruptions, put its key industries at risk.
With Trump ascending to the presidency for a second time, Germany and Japan are confronted with significant economic and strategic challenges. Their concerns about the Trump administration stem from worries regarding the effects of his protectionist trade policies, geopolitical unpredictability, economic nationalism, and the sidelining of the rule of law in favor of contingency management. Additionally, there is a tendency to exert power and force while ignoring international norms and values.
Trade wars and tariffs caused key economic fears for Germany and Japan. To remind you, Trump previously imposed 25% tariffs on European and Japanese steel and aluminum under national security grounds (Section 232). He has also threatened new tariffs on European and Japanese cars, which could severely hurt Germany’s auto industry (VW, BMW, Mercedes) and Japan’s car exports (Toyota, Honda, Nissan). He has also criticized US trade deficits with both countries, which could lead to harsher trade barriers.
The second fear concerns the disruption of global supply chains. Trump’s “America First” policy prioritizes reshoring manufacturing to the US, which could pressure Japanese and German companies to shift production away from their home countries. If Trump weakens or removes from the World Trade Organization (WTO), global trade could become more chaotic and unpredictable.
Security concerns are the most common fear in Japan and Germany. Trump has threatened to withdraw the US from NATO, forcing Germany to increase military spending significantly. If US security guarantees weaken, Germany may have to allocate more funds for defense rather than industrial investment. Russia could exploit this security gap, leading to economic instability in Europe. Similarly, Trump has repeatedly criticized Japan for not paying enough for US military protection. If the US reduces its military presence, Japan may have to massively boost defense spending, affecting government budgets and economic growth.
Germany and Japan’s Possible Responses
The problems of German and Japanese capitalism go beyond Trump’s negative impact and the rise of the new Cold War era under multipolarity. Germany faces significant structural challenges, including energy dependence, industrial competitiveness, demographic decline, bureaucratic inefficiencies, and gaps in digitalization. Addressing these issues requires comprehensive reforms, strategic investments, and policy changesto enhance long-term economic resilience and competitiveness.
The expansion of renewable energy should be accelerated while diversifying LNG and nuclear sources, and industries should support green hydrogen to strengthen energy security and industrial competitiveness.
Strengthening manufacturing demands increased R&D in AI and semiconductors, support for SMEs and startups, and investment in EV and battery production.
Addressing labor shortages necessitates streamlined immigration policies, expanded childcare and reskilling programs, and greater adoption of automation.
Reducing bureaucracy through digital public services, tax reforms, and faster permit approvals will improve business efficiency.
Finally, accelerating digital transformation with nationwide 5G, AI-driven innovation, and enhanced tech education will elevate Germany’s competitiveness in the global economy.
On the other hand, Japan also faces deep-rooted economic challenges, including an aging population, stagnant wages, deflation, high public debt, slow digital transformation, and supply chain vulnerabilities. Addressing these issues requires structural reforms, policy shifts, and innovation-driven strategies to ensure long-term economic resilience.
Japan must implement bold reforms to address its structural challenges and ensure long-term economic resilience.
To combat labor shortages and demographic decline, it should expand childcare support, streamline immigration policies, and invest in automation and AI.
Breaking stagnant wages and deflation requires tax incentives for wage growth, stimulating domestic consumption, and maintaining moderate inflation.
Reducing public debt calls for gradual fiscal consolidation, efficient public spending, and pension reforms.
Accelerating digital transformation through 5G expansion, AI adoption, and corporate modernization will enhance productivity and innovation.
Lastly, strengthening supply chains by diversifying energy sources, investing in domestic semiconductor production, and securing trade partnerships will improve economic stability. By tackling these issues, Japan can sustain its global competitiveness and long-term growth.
More recently, Trump has introduced new dimensions to these challenges in both countries. His return has resulted in increased tariffs, trade barriers, and geopolitical instability, putting pressure on the export-driven economies of Germany and Japan. Both nations must diversify trade, invest in strategic industries, and strengthen their regional alliances to reduce economic risks. The following measures and policy recommendations are plausible and foreseeable solutionsregarding conjunctural progress under the Trump administration and multipolarity.
Strengthen Trade Ties with Other Regions.
Germany could deepen EU-China trade or increase ties with India and ASEAN.
Japan could increase trade with Southeast Asia, Australia, and the EU.
Accelerate Industrial and Technological Independence
Reduce reliance on US markets by boosting domestic demand and innovation.
Invest in digital industries, AI, and green tech to diversify economies.
Strategic Military and Security Adjustments
Germany may increase defense budgets and push for greater EU military cooperation.
Japan may develop stronger regional security partnerships (e.g., with Australia, India, and South Korea).
Conclusion
The resurgence of “Trumpism 2.0” and the evolving multipolar world are reshaping global capitalism, posing significant challenges for German and Japanese economic models. Historically shaped by American influence, both nations now face increasing pressure from protectionist policies, geopolitical uncertainty, and domestic structural issues. While Germany grapples with energy dependence, digital transformation, and industrial competitiveness, Japan contends with demographic decline, deflation, and technological adaptation.
To navigate these shifts, both countries must pursue strategic diversification to navigate these shifts—strengthening trade alliances beyond the US, investing in innovation and industrial resilience, and adapting security strategies to new geopolitical realities.
The coming years will test their ability to maintain economic stability and global influence amid rising fragmentation. However, this era of disruption also presents opportunities for transformation, pushing Germany and Japan toward greater economic autonomy and leadership in a rapidly changing world.
Trumpism 2.0 marks a fundamental shift in global capitalism, blending nationalist protectionism, corporate oligarchy, and digital feudalism. The US is transitioning from ‘neutral’ state capitalism to a model where government policies explicitly serve dominant private entities, eroding economic democracy and consolidating monopolistic power. This transformation deepens domestic inequality while driving international economic fragmentation, trade wars, and strategic decoupling. Meanwhile, the Global South is asserting greater autonomy, challenging Western dominance, and reshaping economic alliances. If these trends persist, escalating geopolitical tensions, supply chain disruptions, and financial instability may define the coming decades. Yet, this period of turbulence—reminiscent of the 1930s—also presents an opportunity for systemic change, though it raises the risk of large-scale global conflict.
Despite its apparent economic, political, and social challenges, the US remains a global powerhouse that can profoundly impact the world with even the slightest changes, whether progressive or regressive. Therefore, it is essential to understand and analyze the unpredictability and uncertainties upcoming with Trump’s (dis)order.
To grasp what Trump is trying to achieve, one should step back and take a bird’s-eye view to avoid the chaos and noise generated by him and his team. What do the iconic skyscrapers of Manhattan, such as the Empire State Building and the Chrysler Building, towering above the clouds, tell us?
When one listens to the sounds beneath the clouds, the shining progress emanating from Silicon Valley in northern California—the focal point of American entrepreneurship—whispers of groundbreaking discoveries and a bright future for the US and humanity in general. In Schumpeterian terminology, America’s “creative destruction” is ongoing. The share of the US GDP has reached 27% of global GDP. Although this is just below the 30% recorded in 2000, it is significant compared to the 23% in 2023, marking the United States’ rebound from its trough, driven by the forces of creative destruction. This pace of change in the structure of the US economy also transforms the financial architecture of the powerhouses on Wall Street, including the New York Stock Exchange.
However, the ongoing global competition indicates that this alone is not enough for America to maintain its competitiveness and status as a global empire. China’s rapid advancements in strategic high-tech industries—such as artificial intelligence (AI), quantum computing, semiconductors, 5G, and renewable energy technologies—along with heavy investments in R&D and talent acquisition to close the gap with the US, have reached a critical stage with far-reaching implications.
Moreover, the competition extends beyond the US and China, as Europe, Japan, and South Korea also play vital roles in niche technologies such as EV batteries, advanced robotics, and biotech. The outcome of this race will shape global supply chains, security policies, and economic leadership, ultimately defining the nature of the ongoing global power transition in the coming decades.
Trump Is Emulating Xi Jinping
Photo: Shutterstock.
As Graham Allison has analyzed in historical cases, the key concern now is how the US will respond to this precarious situation. Signals from Trump’s first term and early indications from his newly started second term suggest that the US political economy may be shifting toward a model resembling China under Xi Jinping. In other words, despite its significant economic superiority, America appears to be emulating its rival to defend its interests and contain China’s rise.
This shift toward unilateralism disregards international norms and values, undermines the post-World War II order it once championed, and abandons the institutions and stakeholders that upheld this system. As a result, the US is embarking on a perilous path that extends far beyond China. Increasingly, it is drifting away from the principles of law, rules, and values, instead embracing arbitrariness and raw power—posing a global threat that contradicts its raison d’être.
Meanwhile, the Statue of Liberty, a powerful symbol of American ideals such as freedom, democracy, and opportunity, is slowly disappearing beneath the clouds. As it fades into the distance, so does the American Dream—the long-standing promise of opportunity, prosperity, and success—becoming an increasingly unattainable illusion.These symbols, once synonymous with American greatness, now represent the triumphs of a bygone era.
Accordingly, the country’s status as a world leader in finance, technology, and industry is being redefined, and the old certainties are giving way to a new, uncertain reality.
Having sought to maintain its position by rejecting its past hegemonic sacrifices or leadership and putting a unilateral emphasis on the rhetoric of “America First,” “Making America Great Again” (MAGA) to protect its “greatness” will also reshape the nature of capitalism and globalization. Several questions need to be addressed and examined in this context. This commentary focuses on the new capitalism the United States has adopted to respond to ongoing global power pressures, changing competitive conditions, and potential consequences.
Three Models of Capitalism
Economic systems (such as capitalism, socialism, and mixed economies) are compared based on several key pillars. These include the right for ownership, the role of government, central planning vs competition, the workings of prices and the production mechanism, income distribution, equity, efficiency, and productivity, economic stability and growth, innovation and entrepreneurship, social welfare and public goods, flexibility and adaptability, approach to free trade vs. protectionism or autarky. There are also various hybrid models combining different system elements at different doses. Each economic system has strengths and weaknesses, depending on societal goals such as growth, equity, efficiency, and stability.
In addition to these differences between economic systems, as J. H. Dunning, D. Rodrik, and J. E. Stiglitz published terrific works on, the world economy has also been characterized by different stages of globalization or deglobalization. These range from mercantilism, a potent form of protectionism, to the extreme form of neoliberal globalization, which went beyond control with severe negative repercussions, and now to new protectionism and civilizational nationalism, along with rising multipolarity and power shift.
Several questions need to be addressed and examined in this context. This commentary focuses on the “new capitalism” that the United States appears to have adopted to respond to ongoing global power shifts, changing competitive conditions, and potential consequences. Whatever form capitalism takes, the debate will always revolve around the market economy, capitalists, big corporations, property rights, and how the state controls and regulates all of this.
Two eminent thinkers, economic historian Fernand Braudel, who focused on long-term structures, and Karl Polanyi, a political economist, who analyzed economic transformations, and anthropologist, provided fundamental critiques of capitalism concerning the state, power, and institutions. Braudel and Polanyi view capitalism as an evolving historical system rather than a static or natural economic order. Through his longue durée approach, Braudel analyzes how capitalism has developed over centuries within specific historical contexts, while Polanyi’s “Great Transformation” illustrates the shift from embedded economies to market-driven societies.
Both scholars differentiate between market economies based on local trade and reciprocity and capitalism, which operates on a larger scale and inherently tends toward monopolization. Braudel views capitalism as an upper layer of economic activity that never functions under pure free-market conditions, exploiting markets rather than being synonymous with them. Capitalism always seeks privileged access to resources, political power, and monopolies. Thus, Braudel and Polanyi converge in their critiques, exposing capitalism’s reliance on state power and monopolistic control and its disruptive effects on society. Braudel emphasizes capitalism’s exploitative nature, whereas Polanyi underscores the commodification of key economic factors, particularly labor.
In short, both view capitalism as a threat to market economies and open societies when left unchecked. Capitalism often operates at the expense of broader societal well-being, benefiting elites while fostering instability and social resistance. Most notably, when the economy becomes “dis-embedded” from society and socially disruptive, the adverse effects of non-market processes, such as externalities and monopolization, become apparent. These circumstances call for state intervention to sustain markets.
However, these two scholars not only explored the state’s crucial role in developing and shaping markets, as D. North demonstrated as an instituted process, but they also showed how state intervention is a double-edged sword and a hazardous process. Given the different allocations of power dynamics, the state’s role cannot be taken for granted.
As shown historically by M. Olson, in the context of development theory by Theda Skocpol, and more recently by C. Jonson during Japan’s rapid post-war development, effective state intervention depends on several restrictive conditions, such as state autonomy and capacity, free from the influence of interest-seeking coalitions. Most notably, Olson explores how special interest groups and coalitions gradually capture state power, leading to economic stagnation. This is also relevant in relatively stable societies, where entrenched interest groups gain influence, creating rigidities that slow economic growth and hinder necessary reforms.
To explore these developments further, I will delineate three evolving variants of capitalism based on ownership structures and governance mechanisms.
👉🏿 The private sector’s independence diminishes as the government integrates strategic industries into political control.
👉🏿 State-backed business elites thrive through public contracts, incentives, and preferential credit.
👉🏿 Bureaucrats and politicians hold executive roles in private firms, aligning private enterprise with state agendas.
👉🏿 This model merges authoritarian populism with capitalist oligarchy.
State Capitalism with Strategic Planning (China – Xi Model)
👉🏿 State ownership dominates, yet specific industries operate with market-driven efficiency.
👉🏿 Despite their semi-independent façade, companies like Huawei and Alibaba align with national economic strategies.
👉🏿 The government employs market forces for efficiency while maintaining overarching economic control.
👉🏿 This hybrid model blends centralized planning with capitalist dynamics.
Techno-Feudal and Oligopolistic Capitalism (US–Trump Model)
👉🏿 Traditional neoliberalism is evolving into a state-elite partnership.
👉🏿 Billionaire elites increasingly influence governance, making the state an agent of corporate interests.
Caricature: Shutterstock.
Tech giants like Tesla, SpaceX, Facebook-Meta, and major media conglomerates serve as political tools for mass influence. For instance, in a clear transactional or win-win approach, President Trump appointed Elon Musk to lead the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE). However, the court blocked his attempt to intervene in the US Treasury and access private data, a case that fueled Trump’s anti-law aggression. Stephen Schwarzman, the chairman and CEO of Blackstone, Ana Botín, the executive chair of Banco Santander, Patrick Pouyanné, chairman and CEO of Total Energies, and Brian Moynihan, chair of the board and CEO of Bank of America, participated in a public dialogue with President Trump at the World Economic Forum‘s 2025 Annual Meeting, indicating a collaborative relationship. Additionally, US business leaders have significantly increased their financial support for President Trump’s second inaugural fund, with contributions expected to surpass previous records. Major corporations such as BP, Chevron, Shell, Google, Microsoft, and Apple have adopted the term “Gulf of America” in their communications following President Trump’s executive order renaming the Gulf of Mexico. This move signifies corporate alignment with the administration’s directives.
Whatever hybrid forms of capitalist models evolve, they underline the rise of Strategic Capitalism, diminishing market competition, increasing state-business convergence, and greater government control over economic participants. In other words, “state capture by entrenched interest-seeking coalitions” is becoming increasingly widespread and pervasive. Most notably, when capital infiltrates the state—through so-called “legitimate lobbying,” as seen in the US—and effectively merges with the government, a fundamental question arises: On whose behalf does the state intervene in the market? How can the criterion of rationality be upheld?
Besides such domestic political-economy implications of the evolving forms of capitalism, their various configurations are also catalysts for conflict when they attempt to externalize emerging problems and challenges. The main dimensions of problem externalization might take several forms:
Globalization’s Externalities and National-Level Risks: While globalization promotes economic interdependence, it has also resulted in significant negative externalities, such as income inequality, industrial decline, job displacement, and financial volatility. Traditional economic governance models suggest addressing these risks at the national level through various mechanisms:
👉🏿 Wealth redistribution via progressive taxation (such as wealth taxes) to fund social welfare and infrastructure.
👉🏿 Regulatory adjustments through stronger labor protections, improved financial oversight, and enhanced corporate accountability mechanisms.
👉🏿 Fair wage policies to ensure that productivity gains translate into equitable income distribution for the working class.
However, instead of internalizing these costs within their economies, some nations are now externalizing them—shifting economic grievances onto foreign entities, often framed within a civilizational nationalist discourse. This trend has been particularly evident under the Trump administration.
The Shift from National Economic Regulation to External Blame: Historically, economic nationalism has been used as a policy tool to protect domestic industries. However, the new wave of civilizational nationalism reframes economic struggles as existential conflicts between distinct cultural or civilizational blocs. This shift is evident in several key areas:
👉🏿 Trade protectionism and economic sanctions through tariffs and trade restrictions on perceived economic competitors (e.g., the U.S.-China trade war).
👉🏿 Industrial policy disguised as strategic autonomy, supporting vital domestic industries for national security purposes (e.g., the EU’s strategic autonomy, the U.S. CHIPS Act).
👉🏿 Resource and financial weaponization, using energy supplies, commodities, or economic systems as geopolitical leverage (e.g., U.S. dollar-based sanctions, Russia’s energy policy).
👉🏿 Anti-globalization narratives rooted in identity politics, portraying globalization as an elite conspiracy that threatens national sovereignty, thus justifying exclusionary economic policies.
The motivation behind these strategies is to “externalize” the burden of globalization’s side effects—shifting responsibility away from corporations and national policymakers onto foreign nations or civilizational “rivals”—ultimately deepening global fragmentation.
Civilizational Nationalism Increases the Likelihood of Conflict: Economic nationalism has historically led to trade wars and economic decoupling. However, civilizational nationalism extends beyond economics, intertwining identity, culture, and geopolitics into economic policy, making conflicts more intense and less negotiable.
In this context:
👉🏿 The West perceives China as both an economic competitor and a cultural and ideological challenger.
👉🏿 Russia is pivoting away from global capitalism, crafting its own “civilizational” economic model centered on Eurasianism.
👉🏿 The European Union, recognizing the limitations of globalization, is adopting industrial policies emphasizing strategic autonomy.
👉🏿 South Asia and the Middle East are developing distinct regional capitalist models.
👉🏿 Meanwhile, the US, under Trumpism, appears to oppose the “rest” of the world.
In conclusion, by replacing domestic policy reform agendas, such as corporate taxation and labor protections, with blame-driven economic nationalism, governments avoid addressing the root causes of economic discontent and fuel long-term geopolitical instability. If this ongoing trend persists, the world may experience an era of intensified trade wars, economic decoupling, and heightened geopolitical tensions, reminiscent of the 1930s, increasing the risk of large-scale conflicts.
Trump’s Presidency and the Shift Toward Authoritarian Capitalism
Obviously, Trump’s populist authoritarian and pragmatist rhetoric lacks a coherent theoretical foundation. It can be seen as a contradictory fusion of economic nationalism, protectionism, and populism, driven more by emotional appeal than analytical rigor. Unlike traditional neoliberalism, which has grown in the US and promotes minimal state intervention, Trump’s era witnessed the convergence of state power with elite economic interests. As Antara Haltar observes, Trump’s policies – tariffs, tax cuts, de/regulation, and re/industrialization- to “Make America Great” again (MAGAnomics) reject core tenets of neoclassical economics, notably free trade, and efficiency. As M. Mazzucatoputs it, this aligns with techno-feudalism, in which large technology firms exert immense economic and social control.
What is idiosyncratic and hypocritical is that Trump rose to power by appealing to those experiencing poverty, feeling left behind, and abandoned. However, he has ultimately shaped his policies to further enrich giant capital owners. He not only serves the interests of capital but has gone a step further by directly placing capitalists in key government positions. Even though his protectionist trade wars were framed to protect American jobs and boost employment and income, there is broad consensus among economists that these policies may primarily benefit select corporations at the expense of consumers and citizens. As J. Stiglitz correctly noted, there is already a high degree of market concentration in the US.
While it remains unclear how he will deliver on his political promises amid the growing challenges of techno-feudalism, these features suggest that Trump’s evolving capitalism, which carries significant global implications, will emerge as a hybrid model combining the following aspects.
👉🏿 Nationalist Protectionism: A more aggressive form of protectionism where the government prioritizes domestic industries and restricts foreign competition. For instance, Trump’s decision to block the acquisition of United States Steel by the Japanese company Nippon Steel created tensions with Japan. Prime Minister Ishiba responded by saying that “the president blocking a takeover is a significant ‘political interference’ and difficult to understand.” This could lead to a more insular, self-sufficient economy, with tariffs and trade barriers becoming more prevalent.
👉🏿 State capitalism: A blend of state control and private enterprise, where the government is more active in guiding the economy. This could involve increased government ownership of key industries like energy, finance, or infrastructure.
👉🏿 Authoritarian Capitalism: A system where the government exercises significant control over the economy, often through a combination of state-owned enterprises, regulations, and repression of dissent. This could lead to a more rigid, hierarchical economy with limited opportunities for entrepreneurship and innovation.
👉🏿 Neoliberalism 2.0: A revised version of the neoliberal ideology that dominated the 1980s and 1990s. This could involve a renewed emphasis on deregulation, privatization, and free trade but with a more aggressive approach to suppressing labor unions and social welfare programs.
👉🏿 Corporate-Friendly Populism: A system where the government prioritizes the interests of large corporations and wealthy elites while using populist rhetoric to appeal to working-class voters. This could lead to a more unequal economy, with greater concentrations of wealth and power.
👉🏿 Hybrid Capitalism: A system that combines elements of different economic models, such as state-led development, private enterprise, and social welfare programs. This could involve a more nuanced approach to monetary policy, focusing on balancing competing interests and promoting sustainable growth.
The actual outcome would depend on a complex interplay of factors, including policy decisions, economic conditions, and societal responses. The impact-response paradigm will also reflect the nature of (i) the state-corporate symbiosis, inwhich even if Trump does not formally integrate capitalist figures like Elon Musk or Mark Zuckerberg into the government, he might pursue policies favoring elite interests, such as corporate tax cuts. (ii) Media and technology manipulation. Trump weaponizes social media platforms like Twitter (now X) while simultaneously attacking tech giants that challenge his influence. (iii) Regulatory favoritism. Despite public criticism of Silicon Valley, Trump’s administration provided regulatory and tax advantages to major corporations. (iv) Preferential treatment for loyal capitalists. Trump’s government allocated state contracts, tax breaks, and industry protections to politically aligned business figures.
To the extent that corporate feudalism is costly to the economy and society’s well-being, the US will likely turn to asymmetric power, military force, and destructive nationalist and civilizational rhetoric to balance, conceal, legitimize, and make it acceptable to the public.
Strategic Implications of Trumpism Globally
As Nancy Quian emphasizes, while initially seen as just a “trade war” with China, it quickly became clear that Trump’s ambitions were far more extensive. He started imposing tariffs on Mexico, Canada, and the EU, which were promptly met with retaliatory actions. Although it’s still uncertain whether Trump’s actions will dissuade his “strategic competitors,” they have already raised alarm among many European nations—long-standing strategic allies of the US since World War II and throughout the Cold War—along with NATO members and most OECD countries.
Had he pursued his policies under the banner of democracy, human rights, the rule of law, multiparty free elections, separation of powers, checks and balances, and transparent governance, most of the OECD nations—controlling nearly 50% of the global GDP—might have been more open to closer cooperation with the US. However, Trump’s broad and aggressive stance and his confrontational rhetoric extending beyond trade wars are likely to leave the US deprived mainly of the allies it seeks.
One reason for this maximalist stance may be Trump’s realization that gaining an economic advantage over China solely through trade wars is impossible. As a result, he has sought to incorporate military, political, technological, and other strategic means to secure a stronger position for the US. However, in doing so, he may have overestimated America’s strength—much like an empire already losing its hegemonic power. Instead of consolidating US influence, this overreach could accelerate America’s decline on the global stage.
Additionally, should global resistance and retaliatory measures against Trump’s America gain momentum, two key consequences could emerge? First, competitors like China may grow even more potent. Trump’s disregard for international norms and values, his habit of barking orders at partners, and his use of political pressure like a small-town thug could alienate his allies and drive them closer to rising powers like China. Second, increasing costs for US consumers and damage to America’s strategic interests could weaken domestic support for Trump, potentially leading to a loss of the congressional majority in the 2026 midterm elections.
Conclusion
In our age of multipolarity, global capitalism is no longer a cohesive system under US hegemony. There are now competing forms of capitalism with different norms and values. There are three notable issues to underline here in terms of understanding the nature of rising capitalism under Trump 2.0.
First,despite its contradictions, Trumpism exposes fundamental flaws in post-WWII economic orthodoxy—particularly its failures to address inequality, identity, and the unintended consequences of globalization. Therefore, the strength of Trump’s approach lies in its emotional resonance with voters who feel marginalized by globalization. Trumpism thrives not on traditional economic logic but on perceptions of cultural and economic displacement.
Second, the fact that politicians come to power using right-wing populist rhetoric and then cede substantial control to capital rather than monitoring, directing, and engaging it in government for the benefit of the people underscores the volatile, elusive, and inherently dangerous nature of populist discourse. Trump’s apparent shift toward oligarchic capitalism (techno-feudalism) through his explicit favoritism toward specific billionaires signals a transition from “neutral” state capitalism to a system where the government actively serves dominant private entities. This shift undermines market competition, reduces economic democracy, and fosters monopolistic tendencies.
Third, rather than adhering to the principle of reforming the existing US system and global multilateral organizations, as Yuen Yuen Ang argues, Trump intends to export or externalize significant problems of the US economy, such as the ever-rising income inequality, chronic and systemic corruption caused by the rise of robber barons, and financial risks, to the “rest” of the world via “beggar thy neighbor policies.”
In this emerging conflict, the digital economy, technology wars, and financial sanctions have become key instruments. However, under Trump’s approach, the current global fragmentation and the new Cold War environment have evolved beyond a simple polarization between the West and the China-Russia axis. The struggle is no longer just between the center (West) and the periphery (Global South) but also within the Global South and the West.
That fragmentation might also lead to: (i) The breakdown of global supply chains asthe West tries to reduce its dependence on China, shifting toward a “friendshoring” trade model.As a reaction, expanding BRICS nations are advancing de-dollarization and constructing alternatives to the Western financial system. (ii) A possible economic bloc formation against Western dominance reminiscent of the 1930s increases the risk of economic stagnation and geopolitical conflict. The US and the EU are implementing “Green Protectionism” via carbon tariffs. If these trends persist, the global economy may enter an era of trade wars, financial decoupling, and economic fragmentation.
Finally, economists must grapple with the systemic issues that enabled its rise rather than dismissing it as an aberration. Until mainstream economics confronts these shortcomings, the populist movement it fuels is unlikely to fade.
Structural reforms like the demilitarization and restructuring of its economy.
