Digital Propaganda.

The Nine Ps of Digital Populism as a Chameleonic Political Marketing Strategy

In this commentary, Dr. Ana Filipa Joaquim develops a political-marketing framework for understanding the adaptive power of digital populism. Drawing on her book “The Age of Digital Populism,” she argues that populism’s “chameleonic” character lies in its ability to alter themes, leadership images, and audience appeals while preserving a recognizable antagonism between “the people” and their opponents. At the center of the analysis is a nine-P model—People, Polarization, Propaganda, Personification, Performance, Propagation, Precision, Permanence, and Participation—which connects symbolic positioning with the circulation and reproduction of political narratives. The framework highlights how adaptability, repetition, audience segmentation, leadership, and participation interact across digital environments, while distinguishing communicative visibility from persuasion, electoral success, and governing competence.

The book A Era do Populismo Digital: Como a Desinformação e a Propaganda Estão a Transformar a Política [The Age of Digital Populism: How Disinformation and Propaganda Are Transforming Politics] is currently available only in Portuguese and has not yet been published in an English-language edition.

By Ana Filipa Joaquim

Introduction

The conceptual diversity of populism research raises a question about how a politically recognizable phenomenon accommodates different ideological commitments and communicative environments. Drawing on The Age of Digital Populism – How Disinformation and Propaganda Are Transforming Politics, this article examines populism through an interdisciplinary political marketing perspective. Its argument is that populism’s chameleonic capacity allows themes, leadership images and audience appeals to change while sustaining a recognizable antagonistic relationship between the people and their opponents. 

The nine Ps model identifies the interconnected practices through which this adaptability becomes strategically meaningful: People, Polarization, Propaganda, Personification, Performance, Propagation, Precision, Permanence and Participation. The framework connects symbolic positioning with the circulation and reproduction of political narratives. It offers an interpretative contribution, with European illustrations, while distinguishing communicative visibility from persuasion, electoral success and governing competence.

Conceptual Disagreement and An Interdisciplinary Perspective

Populism occupies a central place in political debate without having acquired a single, universally accepted academic definition. Its frequent use as a term of political criticism compounds the problem: a label employed to discredit opponents can become detached from analytical criteria. In A era do populismo digital, this conceptual difficulty provides the starting point for examining the connections between political meaning, strategic communication and mobilization (Joaquim, 2026: 23–27).

The disagreement concerns the analytical status of populism as well as its defining features. Mudde and Rovira Kaltwasser (2017) conceptualize it as a thin-centered ideology organized around a moral opposition between the people and the elite. Laclau (2007) approaches it through the discursive construction of a collective political subject and the articulation of demands. Moffitt (2016) foregrounds political style, embodiment and performance. Weyland’s (2017) political-strategic approach emphasizes personalistic leadership and its relationship with followers. These perspectives locate populism in different, sometimes competing, dimensions of political life.

Conceptual plurality does not mean that scholarship has failed to identify meaningful patterns. It indicates that ideological content, discourse, leadership and mediated performance cannot simply be treated as interchangeable objects. The question is how to examine their relationships without assuming that one perspective exhausts the phenomenon. Sorensen’s (2021) integration of ideology, performance and mediation supports the relevance of this broader communicative enquiry.

An exclusively classificatory debate can therefore be complemented by a question about strategic practice: how are social grievances translated into recognizable political offers, directed towards particular audiences and sustained through repeated interaction? Moving beyond a narrowly disciplinary reading of populism makes political marketing useful here. This broadens political analysis through attention to audience relationships, symbolic value and communication. It does not require abandoning ideological differences or treating citizens as equivalent to commercial consumers.

There is also an established basis for this connection. Winder and Tenscher (2012) examine populism as a political marketing technique concerned with communicative relationships, organization and mobilization. Lees-Marshment (2011) situates political marketing within strategic engagement with public expectations. The present argument draws these concerns together through the nine Ps model developed in Joaquim (2026). Conceptual disagreement alone does not establish that populism is marketing; the analytical justification lies in the strategic construction, differentiation and circulation of its political offer.

Chameleonic Adaptability as a Strategic Resource

Sign of the right-wing conservative political party Chega, led by André Ventura, in Faro, Portugal, March 16, 2023. Photo: Dreamstime.

The book explicitly identifies populism’s chameleonic nature as a source of political strength (Joaquim, 2026: 55). The metaphor describes adaptation with continuity. Populist actors can change the themes they priorities, the identities they invoke and the opponents they designate while retaining an antagonistic account of legitimate representation. Its flexibility concerns how the political division is expressed and made relevant within particular circumstances.

This interpretation is compatible with the thin-centered ideological approach. A limited ideological core can attach itself to different political projects, helping explain why populism is not confined to a single ideological family (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017). It is also consistent with the book’s distinction between cultural, socioeconomic and anti-establishment configurations. These overlap in practice, allowing identity, material insecurity and institutional distrust to be combined in different proportions (Joaquim, 2026: 67–77).

The European illustrations clarify this flexibility without establishing a uniform strategy. The book discusses national identity in France’s Rassemblement National, or National Rally, and the combination of anti-corruption, cultural and socioeconomic appeals in Portugal’s Chega. The themes differ in emphasis, but both can be organized through a morally charged distinction between a deserving community and those represented as responsible for its predicament (Joaquim, 2026: 76–77, 111–113). These examples illustrate how national specificity shapes political communication.

From a marketing perspective, this adaptability involves the construction of perceived relevance. A political offer acquires value when it gives recognizable expression to grievances, offers belonging and identifies an apparently intelligible response. Positioning distinguishes that offer from established alternatives, while leadership and recurring symbols help maintain recognition. Changing an emphasis from insecurity to corruption need not dissolve the broader narrative if both are presented as consequences of an unresponsive or illegitimate establishment.

Adaptability does not imply the absence of ideology or unlimited freedom to change. As the book stresses, emotion reconfigures the experience of ideology rather than simply replacing it (Joaquim, 2026: 31–36). Historical conditions, institutional arrangements and existing political commitments shape the available appeals. The marketing perspective explains how these materials are organized in relationships with audiences; it cannot, by itself, explain every source of political dissatisfaction.

Chameleonic strength thus rests on a tension between variation and recognizability. Messages must respond to changing concerns while preserving enough continuity to sustain identification. The nine Ps make this relationship analytically accessible by connecting the definition of a political community with the practices through which its narrative is embodied, distributed and repeatedly renewed.

The Nine Ps as an Integrated Marketing Strategy

The model comprises People, Polarization, Propaganda, Personification, Performance, Propagation, Precision, Permanence and Participation. Developed in Chapter 15 of the book, these dimensions constitute an interpretative framework rather than a linear campaign sequence (Joaquim, 2026: 129–150). Their relevance derives from their interdependence. The preceding discussion of political marketing supplies the connection to segmentation, positioning, branding and the construction of symbolic value (Joaquim, 2026: 105–114). The nine Ps reorganize these concerns around the distinctive communicative practices of digital populism.

People identifies the collective subject in whose name the political project speaks. This is a discursively constructed community, endowed with moral legitimacy and boundaries of belonging. Its strategic importance lies in offering citizens a position within the narrative: their experiences become evidence of what has happened to the community. The political offer consequently combines proposed action with recognition. As different grievances gain prominence, the representation of the people can adjust without abandoning the claim to speak for a legitimate collective subject (Joaquim, 2026: 130–132).

Polarization gives that community an antagonistic relationship with its opponents. Differences become moralized, allowing political choices to be experienced as affirmations of identity. Within the model, this concerns a communicative practice of constructing conflict, not an independently measured level of polarization across society. Its strategic function is to distinguish the political offer through an intelligible attribution of responsibility. The relevant analytical question is how disagreement is transformed into a distinction between legitimate representatives and actors presented as undeserving of recognition (Joaquim, 2026: 132–134).

Propaganda organizes the problems through which antagonism acquires urgency. Selection, emphasis and dramatization can turn complex circumstances into emotionally charged interpretations. Entman’s (1993) account of framing clarifies the importance of defining problems and attributing responsibility. The book treats corruption, insecurity and immigration as recurrent themes through which this process operates. Propaganda may involve real grievances interpreted selectively; fabrication is not a necessary condition. Its place within the model is to connect attention with a politically consequential understanding of what is wrong and who should answer for it (Joaquim, 2026: 134–135).

André Ventura of the Chega party speaking during the plenary session of the Portuguese Parliament debating the government’s motion of confidence, March 11, 2025.

Personification concentrates the political offer in a recognizable leader. Image, biography and public conduct become resources through which a complex organization acquires an accessible identity. The book discusses André Ventura’s centrality to Chega as an illustration. The leader can provide continuity across changing themes because audiences recognize the person through whom the project is represented. Yet this concentration also creates dependency: damage to individual credibility can destabilize the wider narrative. Personification therefore combines an opportunity for identification with organizational vulnerability (Joaquim, 2026: 136–138).

Performance concerns how the narrative is enacted through gesture, tone, confrontation and staged proximity. Moffitt’s (2016) analysis of political style helps explain why the form of a political intervention matters to its reception. Informality or an emotionally intense appearance may support a perception of authenticity, even when carefully constructed. In this model, performance means communicative enactment, distinct from electoral results or governing effectiveness. Personification identifies the figure who embodies the offer; performance concerns the experience through which audiences encounter that figure and attach meaning to the message (Joaquim, 2026: 138–140).

Propagation concerns the circulation of messages across platforms, social networks and mediated encounters. Supporters, journalists and other intermediaries can extend the visibility of material beyond its original audience. Sharing also allows messages to be reinterpreted, so strategic circulation is not reducible to organizational control. The book relates propagation to the interaction between emotional engagement and platform visibility, while recognizing the role of informal networks. The dimension identifies how a political offer acquires communicative reach. That reach remains distinct from persuasion or evidence of electoral support (Joaquim, 2026: 140–142).

Precision describes the adjustment of content, tone and framing to particular audiences through segmentation and data use. This provides a direct connection between chameleonic adaptability and marketing practice: different concerns can be addressed through differentiated appeals within a recognizable narrative. Precision concerns the intended fit between a message and an audience; it does not certify targeting accuracy or imply that every campaign has equivalent technical capabilities. Its democratic significance lies partly in visibility, since citizens may encounter different political promises without being able to scrutinize the complete range of appeals (Joaquim, 2026: 142–144).

Permanence refers to sustained narrative presence through repeated themes, symbols and interpretations. The repetition need not be literal. Wording and format may change while preserving a familiar account of political responsibility. Research on illusory truth demonstrates that repetition can influence perceived truthfulness (Fazio et al., 2015), although this does not establish the effects of any particular campaign. Permanence gives the model a temporal dimension: recurring interpretations can become the frame through which subsequent events are understood. Its effectiveness remains conditional, since repetition can also generate saturation and fatigue (Joaquim, 2026: 144–146, 186).

Participation incorporates audiences into the reproduction of political meaning. Reactions, comments, shares and user-generated content can express belonging, extend circulation and supply visible signals of approval. It overlaps with propagation but identifies a distinct relationship: citizens contribute to the visibility and perceived legitimacy of the narrative. Their activity can also provide feedback that informs subsequent communication. Participation may broaden access to political expression while reinforcing homogeneous communities. Interaction counts therefore cannot be treated as measures of informed deliberation or representative public endorsement (Joaquim, 2026: 146–148).

Adaptation and Reinforcement Across the Nine Ps

The model’s interpretative value lies in the relationships among its dimensions. The construction of the people supplies a political identity, and polarization establishes the conflict within which that identity acquires significance. Propaganda selects problems that connect the conflict with recognizable experiences. Personification and performance give the offer an identifiable presence, while precision and propagation concern its adjustment and circulation. Permanence sustains recognition over time, and participation supplies further opportunities for amplification and renewal.

The connection between precision and permanence is particularly important to the chameleonic argument. Differentiated messages need not repeat identical language to sustain the same interpretation of political life. Appeals organized around corruption, economic insecurity or cultural threat can reproduce a common distinction between the community and those held responsible for its difficulties. Adaptation concerns the immediate appeal; continuity can reside in the underlying attribution of legitimacy and blame (Joaquim, 2026: 76–77, 142–146).

Participation helps connect this variation with visible social validation. When supporters share or reinterpret messages, they contribute to their persistence and can make them appear socially endorsed. Further interaction may then encourage additional circulation. This relationship explains why analyzing a single post, leader or engagement total captures only part of the communicative process. The framework directs attention to recurring connections among meaning, audience activity and visibility (Joaquim, 2026: 121–127, 146–148).

Such integration does not require a centrally controlled apparatus. Political organizations make strategic choices, but users and intermediaries can reproduce or modify messages autonomously. The book’s account of decentralized circulation prevents the marketing interpretation from becoming a claim that every manifestation results from deliberate planning. Strategy operates within an environment that political actors can influence without fully controlling.

Disinformation and the Limits of Communicative Success

Illustration: Shutterstock / Skorzewiak.

Disinformation can reinforce several dimensions of this strategy, connecting distorted claims with established grievances, recognizable leaders and repeated circulation. It is therefore examined across the relationships among the Ps. The distinction between deliberate deception and unintentional error remains necessary (Wardle & Derakhshan, 2017). Neither emotional intensity nor the use of marketing techniques is sufficient to classify a message as disinformation. Propaganda, deception and strategic distribution have related but analytically distinguishable functions (Joaquim, 2026: 95–118).

The explanatory limits are equally important. The framework synthesizes the book’s conceptual argument and illustrative European discussions; it does not present a new dataset or a comparative test of the nine dimensions. The available material does not establish the independent contribution of each P to persuasion or electoral outcomes. The analysis concerns strategic organization and plausible relationships among practices, with attention to their contextual conditions.

The book also identifies vulnerabilities associated with communicative success. Leadership dependence can turn personal credibility into organizational fragility; repetition can produce exhaustion; simplified promises can become difficult to sustain when confronted with governing responsibilities (Joaquim, 2026: 185–187). Chameleonic adaptability does not remove these tensions. A capacity to revise a message cannot be assumed to supply the institutional competence required to address the problem it describes.

Democratic assessment consequently extends beyond whether a strategy attracts attention. It concerns whose grievances acquire recognition, whose membership is denied, how differentiated appeals can be scrutinized and whether visible participation supports informed judgement. The book’s discussion of media literacy, platform transparency and political accountability addresses these connected concerns (Joaquim, 2026: 201–207). The analytical task is to understand how communication organizes influence while retaining criteria for evaluating its consequences.

Conclusion

The absence of a single academic conceptualization of populism creates a case for analytical dialogue across disciplines. Its chameleonic capacity makes political marketing particularly useful for examining how varied political contents are organized into recognizable offers of belonging and representation. The nine Ps specify the practices through which this organization acquires communicative form. Their contribution lies in connecting adaptation with continuity, and strategic intention with audience participation. Approached in this way, digital populism can be analyzed as a marketing strategy whose strength depends on sustaining identification across changing circumstances, while its effects remain contingent and its democratic consequences require scrutiny.


 

References

Entman, R. M. (1993). “Framing: Toward clarification of a fractured paradigm.” Journal of Communication, 43(4), 51–58. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1460-2466.1993.tb01304.x

Fazio, L. K.; Brashier, N. M.; Payne, B. K. & Marsh, E. J. (2015). “Knowledge does not protect against illusory truth.” Journal of Experimental Psychology: General, 144(5), 993–1002. https://doi.org/10.1037/xge0000098

Joaquim, A. F. (2026). A era do populismo digital: Como a desinformação e a propaganda estão a transformar a política[The age of digital populism: How disinformation and propaganda are transforming politics]. Editora d’Ideias.

Laclau, E. (2007). On populist reason. Verso.

Lees-Marshment, J. (2011). The political marketing game. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230299511

Moffitt, B. (2016). The global rise of populism: Performance, political style, and representation. Stanford University Press. https://www.sup.org/books/title?id=25175

Mudde, C., & Rovira Kaltwasser, C. (2017). Populism: A very short introduction. Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/actrade/9780190234874.001.0001

Sorensen, L. (2021). Populist communication: Ideology, performance, mediation. Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-3-030-65756-7

Wardle, C. & Derakhshan, H. (2017). Information disorder: Toward an interdisciplinary framework for research and policy making (DGI(2017)09). Council of Europe. https://rm.coe.int/information-disorder/168076277c

Weyland, K. (2017). “Populism: A political-strategic approach.” In: C. Rovira Kaltwasser, P. Taggart, P. Ochoa Espejo, & P. Ostiguy (Eds.), The Oxford handbook of populism (pp. 48–72). Oxford University Press. https://doi.org/10.1093/oxfordhb/9780198803560.013.2

Winder, G. & Tenscher, J. (2012). “Populism as political marketing technique.” In: J. Lees-Marshment (Ed.), Routledge handbook of political marketing (pp. 230–242). Routledge. https://doi.org/10.4324/9780203349908-28

Colorful LGBTQ+ rainbow stairs in Cihangir, Istanbul.

From ‘My Family Is Safe’ to Gendered Authoritarianism: Redrawing the Boundaries of Belonging in Turkey

In this commentary, Dr. Hafza Girdap examines Turkey’s intensifying anti-gender politics through the interconnected concepts of gendered populism, gendered authoritarianism, and differentiated citizenship. Using the September 2026 “My Family Is Safe” crackdown as a focal point, she argues that family, morality, sexuality, childhood, and national belonging are increasingly mobilized to distinguish ‘legitimate citizens’ from threatening “Others.” Central to her framework is the proposition that “gendered populism” constructs and mobilizes the boundaries of legitimate belonging; “gendered authoritarianism” institutionalizes and enforces those boundaries; and the “established citizen” embodies the normative subject whom these processes simultaneously produce and claim to protect. The article situates contemporary anti-LGBTQ+ repression within a longer transformation of citizenship, political homophobia, and family-centered authoritarian governance in Turkey.

By Hafza Girdap

In September 2026, Turkish authorities launched a nationwide crackdown under the strikingly familial title “My Family Is Safe” (Ailem Güvende). According to the Turkish Minister of Justice, investigations encompassed 162 individuals, nine associations, and 13 businesses across 15 provinces. Police raids, arrests, searches, seizures, and restrictions on websites and social media accounts disproportionately affected LGBTQ+ organizations, activists, journalists, and spaces associated with queer communities. The authorities have framed the crackdowns through allegations including obscenity, prostitution, exposure of children to inappropriate content, and questionable financial relationships, while presenting the broader campaign as part of the state’s protection of children, families, and social order.

The prosecution of journalist Tuğba Tekerek makes the expanding boundaries particularly visible of this campaign. Tekerek was detained in connection with an article she had written two years ago for Kaos GL magazine/website about LGBTQ+ experiences surrounding elections in Georgia; she was subsequently arrested pending trial on suspicion of obscenity. The significance of these developments therefore extends beyond the immediate policing of sexuality. They raise a larger sociological question about how family, morality, gender, sexuality, childhood, and national belonging become politically interconnected categories through which ‘legitimate’ and ‘illegitimate’ subjects are distinguished (Girdap, 2026).

It is important to note that the current campaign is not an isolated episode but a particularly visible manifestation of a longer transformation in the gendered politics of citizenship in Turkey. Well before the current anti-LGBTQ+ crackdown, women’s rights had increasingly been reframed through a family-centered policy discourse in which women were positioned predominantly through motherhood and wifehood; feminist organizations and LGBTQ+ identities were simultaneously subjected to delegitimizing discourses (Sarac et al, 2023). Following the failed coup attempt of July 2016, these processes intensified as women’s organizations were closed, women associated with political opposition were subjected to gender-specific forms of punishment, and women’s identities and familial relationships themselves became sites through which political repression could operate. Post-coup migration similarly demonstrates that state-led and state-sanctioned gendered violence increasingly targeted not only women but also people positioned outside dominant understandings of national belonging on the basis of gender and sexual identity, ethnicity, religion, and political affiliation.

The campaign surrounding the Istanbul Convention provides an especially important bridge between these earlier developments and the present moment. As I have previously argued, contemporary right-wing populism frequently makes gender and sexuality central to the production of political antagonism: the heteronormative family is elevated as the normative model of social organization, while reproductive rights, LGBTQ+ identities, and gender ideology are constructed as challenges to it. In Turkey, the government’s renaming of the Ministry of Women and Family as the Ministry of Family and Social Policy symbolically relocated women within the family, while political discourse increasingly presented motherhood, children, religion, and the traditional family as markers of legitimate gendered belonging. The subsequent representation of the Istanbul Convention as a threat to the family demonstrates how gender discourse can participate in constructing an antagonistic ‘Other’ while simultaneously legitimizing the consolidation of political authority.

I conceptualize this process as gendered populism operating through gendered authoritarianism (Girdap, 2026). Gender here is not merely another policy domain upon which authoritarian politics happens to act. Rather, it becomes one of the mechanisms through which political membership itself is imagined and regulated. Populist distinctions between the ‘legitimate people’ and ‘threatening Others’ acquire gendered, sexualized, familial, religious, and moral content. Authoritarian power can subsequently translate those distinctions into institutional practices through law, policing, prosecution, censorship, restrictions on civil society, and regulation of public visibility. The family consequently functions not simply as a private institution or conservative value but as a political technology of boundary-making: protecting the family simultaneously requires defining which families, gender performances, sexualities, bodies, relationships, and forms of public participation are recognizable as legitimate.

Drawing on the conception of gendered citizenship, Turkish citizenship has historically been organized through hegemonic masculinities and heteronormative requirements of belonging, while nationalism, militarism, religion, ethnicity, and gender intersect in producing differentiated access to social and political membership (Unlu, 2023). Turkishness, thus, is not merely a formal legal identity but an institutionalized regime of belonging in which gendered, racialized, ethnic, and religious hierarchies regulate who can inhabit the national subject without having their belonging questioned. This distinction between formal citizenship and substantive belonging is particularly important: minority women and LGBTQ+ individuals may be citizens in law while remaining positioned outside a narrower heteronormative conception of the socially legitimate Turkish citizen (Girdap, 2026).

I therefore employ the concept of the established citizen to capture this relationship between formal membership and normative belonging. The established citizen is not simply the person who possesses Turkish citizenship. Rather, it is the subject whose gender, sexuality, familial position, religion, ethnicity, political comportment, and relationship to dominant national narratives most readily conform to the historically shifting expectations of legitimate Turkishness. Importantly, this ideal is neither historically fixed nor produced exclusively by contemporary political Islam. Competing hegemonic masculinities, including modernist-secularist, Islamist, ultranationalist, and other political formations, have differed in their prescriptions while repeatedly making women’s bodies, appearance, sexuality, reproduction, and public participation sites upon which competing projects of nationhood are enacted (Özbay & Soybakis, 2020). Gendered authoritarianismtherefore does not invent gendered citizenship; it intensifies, reorganizes, and politically mobilizes its already existing boundaries.

Seen through this framework, the September 2026 crackdown poses a question considerably larger than whether the Turkish state is becoming more hostile toward LGBTQ+ people. It asks who can inhabit citizenship without having to continually establish their legitimacy. When family, morality, childhood, sexuality, national values, foreign influence, and public order converge within the same political vocabulary, the boundary between protecting an institution and policing a population becomes analytically crucial.

The current moment can therefore be read as an intensified stage in a longer process through which gendered populismidentifies the normative people, gendered authoritarianism disciplines those positioned beyond its boundaries, and the established citizen ideal supplies the gendered and moral architecture of belonging. Hence, rather than treating today’s crackdown as the beginning of a new politics, I ask what its vocabulary of family, morality, danger, and protection reveals about the gendered architecture of citizenship that made this politics possible in the first place.

Homophobic Populism, Populist Homophobia, and Anti-Gender Politics

Political homophobia is not merely hostility toward LGBTQ+ identities; it can function as a technology of political boundary-making through which the ‘legitimate people,’ the ‘threatening Other,’ and the moral boundaries of national belonging are constructed (Unal, 2024). Drawing on the concept of ontological security, Unal (2024) examines people’s need for a relatively stable sense of self, identity, continuity, and social world. Populist crisis discourse can generate ontological insecurity by presenting family, nation, morality, and culture as endangered. From the perspective developed here, this insight adds another dimension to the established citizen: the established citizen is not only the citizen who conforms to normative expectations but can also be constructed as the citizen who must be protected.

The contemporary mobilization against LGBTQ+ rights should be understood not as an isolated national political development but as part of a broader transnational anti-gender movement whose organizational strategies and discursive repertoires have developed through earlier anti-abortion campaigns (Kahlina et al., 2025; Ojeda et al., 2024). In this transformation, political struggles previously organized around opposition to abortion have increasingly expanded toward opposition to transgender rights, LGBTQ+ visibility, feminism, and what activists and political actors describe as gender ideology. Since the 2010s, populist leaders in diverse political contexts have adopted increasingly aggressive anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-feminist positions, often using gender and sexuality as politically mobilizing issues. While these strategies frequently seek alliances with conservative religious constituencies, their appeal is not limited to religious voters; anti-gender politics can also mobilize secular constituencies through broader narratives concerning family, children, morality, social stability, and national values (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022).

Homophobic populism, the strategic adoption of homo- and transphobic positions by populist political actors seeking electoral and political advantages, can create what amounts to a marriage of convenience among anti-pluralist populists, socially conservative secular actors, and conservative religious groups (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Populist politicians may promise socially conservative gender and sexuality policies in exchange for electoral support and, importantly, the political acquiescence of religious authorities toward other illiberal or anti-pluralist practices. Homophobic populism therefore operates simultaneously as an electoral strategy and a co-optation strategy. Gender and sexuality become useful not only for attracting socially conservative constituencies but also for constructing alliances that can facilitate broader challenges to political pluralism and democratic constraints.

A related but analytically distinct phenomenon is populist homophobia. Whereas homophobic populism describes political actors’ strategic deployment of homo- and transphobia, populist homophobia refers more specifically to the discursive mechanism through which anti-LGBTQ+ politics is translated into populist language (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Its central rhetorical mechanism is harm or victim inversion: groups that have historically experienced marginalization are reconstructed as powerful actors allegedly threatening the majority (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). LGBTQ+ communities consequently cease to appear as minorities seeking equal rights and instead become represented as an intrusive or privileged elite whose demands are portrayed as radical, foreign, coercive, or dangerous to children, families, religion, and society.

This inversion is particularly important because it enables anti-gender politics to be articulated through the language of protection rather than exclusion. Opposition to LGBTQ+ rights can be presented not explicitly as hostility toward sexual and gender minorities but as the defense of apparently universal public goods: children, families, parental autonomy, religious freedom, morality, social stability, or even sustainable development. Within this discursive structure, the political subject is reorganized through a binary opposition: “ordinary people / families / children” versus “gender ideology / LGBTQ+ activists / foreign influence / threatening elites.”

Gender and sexuality thus become central terrains upon which the populist distinction between ‘a legitimate people’ and ‘an illegitimate Other’ is constructed. Unal (2024) similarly identifies the distinction between the ‘morally superior us’and the ‘morally corrupt them’ as central to populist constructions of ‘the people.’ ‘The Other’ is not merely different but is represented as threatening the homogeneous nation. Once positioned outside ‘the good people,’ such groups may become targets of stigmatization through discourse, policy, and legislation.

This framework also explains why cultural panic is politically consequential beyond LGBTQ+ rights themselves (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). By representing gender and sexuality as existential threats to families and children, political actors can encourage voters to prioritize cultural and moral conflicts over material questions such as economic redistribution (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Anti-gender mobilization can therefore facilitate a broader political realignment in which disputes concerning sexuality become vehicles for constructing political identities, consolidating coalitions, and legitimizing anti-pluralist politics. The restriction of LGBTQ+ rights is consequently not necessarily the endpoint of homophobic populism; rather, attacks on gender and sexuality may function as an entry point through which broader restrictions on pluralism become politically acceptable.

These distinctions provide an important theoretical foundation for the gendered populism argument in this article that captures a broader process in which gender, sexuality, reproduction, and family are not peripheral themes within populist politics but constitutive mechanisms for defining ‘the people.’ The imagined legitimate citizen is produced relationally against subjects represented as violating normative gender, sexual, reproductive, familial, or moral expectations. Anti-gender discourse therefore does more than identify political enemies: it establishes normative boundaries around belonging.

Unal (2024) identifies three modalities through which political homophobia operated during Turkey’s 2023 election campaign: culturalist and nativist othering at the intersection of Islam and anti-genderism; the vilification of political opponents as “inner enemies”; and movement toward the legal and institutional incorporation of political homophobia. These modalities are particularly significant for understanding how anti-gender discourse can move from rhetorical boundary-making toward institutionalized forms of exclusion.

When this discursive politics becomes embedded in institutions, it intersects with what I conceptualize as gendered authoritarianism. The distinction is analytically important: gendered populism constructs and mobilizes the boundary; gendered authoritarianism institutionalizes and enforces it. The former identifies who supposedly threatens the family, children, morality, nation, or “the people”; the latter can translate those representations into law, policing, prosecution, censorship, surveillance, restrictions on organizations, and other mechanisms of state power. The relationship can therefore be conceptualized as:

If populist anti-gender politics establishes the heteronormative family as a symbolic representation of the legitimate social order, conformity to particular gendered and sexual norms can become intertwined with the conditions of legitimate national membership. Family is therefore not simply something the state claims to protect; it becomes a political template through which ‘the legitimate citizen’ is imagined.

Unal’s (2024) concept of the crisisification of policymaking further helps explain how this boundary-making can become institutionalized. Crisisification describes the transformation of policymaking around a continuing sense of urgency, exceptionality, and insecurity, through which crisis becomes normalized rather than treated as an exceptional condition. Within the framework proposed here, this process provides an important link between gendered populism and gendered authoritarianism: once gender and sexuality are constructed as existential threats to family, morality, and nation, extraordinary forms of state intervention can increasingly be presented as necessary acts of protection.

This framework allows the analysis of Turkey to move from contemporary anti-LGBTQ+ mobilization toward the deeper historical question at the center of this article: How have gender, sexuality, family, religion, ethnicity, and political loyalty historically structured the boundaries between the established citizen and those whose belonging remains conditional, contested, or punishable?

The political function of anti-gender populism is therefore not exhausted by the production of an LGBTQ+ ‘Other.’Through that ‘Other,’ the normative citizen is simultaneously produced. Political homophobia tells us not only who does not belong but also who the state imagines as properly belonging.


 

References

Corrales, Javier and Jacob Kiryk. (2022.) “Homophobic Populism.” In: Oxford Research Encyclopedia. https://doi.org/10.1093/acrefore/9780190228637.013.2080

Girdap, H. (2026). “Gendered authoritarianism, social death, and state violence in post-2016 Türkiye.” Journal for Humanitarian Conflict Resolution, 1(1).

Girdap, H. (2026). “Contextual racialisation of women in Turkey: Their response through embodied identification.” In: Shilan Fuad Hussain (Ed.), Women, power, and gender in the Middle East. Routledge.

Kahlina, K.; Ristivojevic, D. & Rudgren, H. (2025). “Transnational politics of anti-gender mobilizations.” Redescriptions: Political Thought, Conceptual History and Feminist Theory, 28(1).

Ojeda, T.; Holzberg, B. & Holvikivi, A. (2024). “A transnational feminist approach to anti-gender politics.” In: A. Holvikivi, B. Holzberg, & T. Ojeda (Eds.), Transnational anti-gender politics: Feminist solidarity in times of global attacks (pp. 1–32). Palgrave Macmillan.

Özbay, C. & Soybakis, O. (2020). “Political masculinities: Gender, power, and change in Turkey.” Social Politics: International Studies in Gender, State & Society, 27(1), 27–50.

Sarac, B. N.; Girdap, H. & Hiemstra, N. (2023). “Gendered state violence and post-coup migration out of Turkey.” Women’s Studies International Forum, 99, 102796.

 Unlu, B. (2023). “The Turkishness contract and the formation of Turkishness.” In: F. M. Gocek & A. Alemdaroglu (Eds.), Kurds in Dark Times. Syracuse University Press.

The parliament (Riksdag) building in Stockholm.

The Pendulum Swings Back: Why the Sweden Democrats Lost Ground in Sweden’s 2026 Election

In this commentary, Associate Professor Anders Hellström examines why the Sweden Democrats emerged as one of the main losers of Sweden’s 2026 election after years of sustained growth and political influence. He identifies three factors: SD’s transformation from an anti-establishment challenger into part of the political establishment; growing resistance to increasingly restrictive immigration policies; and a mismatch between SD’s signature issues and voters’ wider priorities, particularly healthcare, education, and the economy. Assoc. Prof. Hellström also places the election within a broader debate about populism as democratic protest and the narrative foundations of representative politics. He argues that SD has successfully shaped dominant stories about integration, immigration, and Swedish identity, but that the 2026 result may indicate an opening for alternative political narratives as “the pendulum has swung back.”

By Anders Hellström*

When populists become the establishment, voters may seek new ways to protest the elite, as Sweden’s recent election suggests. The pendulum has swung back. This article outlines three reasons why the Sweden Democrats (SD) suffered electoral setbacks. It concludes by arguing that research needs to acknowledge the storytelling dimension of representative politics to open up space for progressive stories to be told in the future. What will be the dominant narrative in the years to come? But first, let us return to the election itself.

On 13 September, Sweden held local, regional, and national elections. At the national level, Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson’s Tidö coalition faced an opposition led by the Social Democrats (S). The election resulted in a narrow victory for the center-left bloc. Among the opposition parties, the Social Democrats won 28.3% of the vote, followed by the Left Party (V) (8.4%), the Center Party (C) (7.0%), and the Green Party (MP) (6.1%) (see Table 1).

Three of the four Tidö coalition parties increased their vote share. The Moderate Party (M) rose to 19.9%, remaining the second-largest party, while the Christian Democrats (KD) and Liberals (L) increased to 6.2% and 5.2%, respectively. The main loser was the Sweden Democrats, whose support fell from 20.5% to 17.5% (see Table 1).

After all votes were counted, S leader Magdalena Andersson’s bloc secured 176 seats to the Tidö coalition’s 173. Over the past four years, the SD-backed government has tightened immigration policy, promoted repatriation, made temporary residence permits the norm, and introduced tougher criminal penalties. The Social Democrats did not consistently oppose these measures and have themselves embraced a more restrictive approach to immigration. Yet, despite this broad political consensus, the opposition won.

Why is it that the Sweden Democrats (SD) emerged as one of the election’s losers? I outline below three possible explanations.

1. From anti-establishment challenger to part of the establishment. After decades of rapid growth, often doubling its vote share from one election to the next, the Sweden Democrats’ momentum slowed in 2022 and turned into decline in 2026.

Initially, in the beginning of its parliamentary journey, the party was often portrayed as a devil in disguise of sorts, who concealed an extremely shady past under a fancy costume. Meanwhile, its elected representatives were sometimes ridiculed as political clowns (Hellström & Nilsson, 2010). They faced immense criticism in mainstream media and from the other mainstream political parties. Both the Moderates under Fredrik Reinfeldt and the Social Democrats under Mona Sahlin united in a show of repugnance against the Sweden Democrats, denying them any political influence and refusing to cooperate with them.

But times change.

As the Sweden Democrats have entered the political mainstream, they have sought to portray themselves as a responsible governing partner. Meanwhile, mainstream parties have moved closer to SD on immigration. M leader Ulf Kristersson has endorsed SD leader Jimmie Åkesson’s concerns about immigration, integration, and crime (Kristersson, 2026), while the Social Democrats also support lower immigration and stricter integration measures (Social Democratic Party, 2025).

As a result, political positions widely regarded as extreme a decade ago have become mainstream today. And when the extreme has become mainstream, young radicals are looking for even more extreme alternatives, as SD has become too moderate according to them.

2. Sweden’s immigration policy, which the SD actively promotes, has become too restrictive. Many voters, both natives and immigrants, now see Sweden’s immigration policy as too restrictive. When well-integrated immigrants face deportation, barriers to family reunification, uncalled-for surveillance of well-behaved immigrant voters, or demanding income requirements (ridiculously high), these policies may generate protest rather than public support. Can these protests be framed in populist terms? For some scholars, the answer is affirmative. In this regard, populism can be understood as a form of democratic protest (Abbott, 2007) rather than merely an anti-democratic force. To shed light on this issue, it helps to revisit Margaret Canovan.

Canovan (1999) identifies two faces of democratic politics: redemption and pragmatism. Democracy, understood as an ideal, embodies a redemptive vision through which citizens can collectively pursue and realize “the good society.” The pragmatic face, by contrast, is concerned with maintaining institutions capable of managing conflict and disagreement peacefully, without allowing political competition to become destructive. In its institutional form, this pragmatic dimension is reflected in arrangements such as free and fair elections, a multiparty system, and the rule of law. Representative politics, however, extends beyond politics-as-usual by also emphasizing redemptive impulses. In this reading, voters who feel that political developments have gone too far reject established politics (pragmatism) and instead support an alternative vision (redemption). Populism is not synonymous with the far right. It can also be understood as a democratic protest against a political system that, in the eyes of its critics, has become overly technocratic.

3. Sweden Democrats’ profile issues were not at the top of the political agenda. There was a clear mismatch between the Sweden Democrats’ priorities and those of the average voter. More broadly, no single issue dominated the election campaign. While some voters focused on climate change, others were concerned about their finances, healthcare, or education. Although society remained polarized, the SD’s agenda did not fully align with voters’ main concerns.

Some voters were protesting against climate change, while others were concerned about their personal finances or health. Even in a polarized political environment, it is fair to say that there was no perfect match between what average voters considered the most important issues and the priorities of the Sweden Democrats. According to the Swedish Television exit poll (SVT Nyheter, 2026), the three most important issues for voters in the 2026 election were healthcare, education, and the Swedish economy (ibid.). According to the same 2026 VALU exit poll, Sweden Democrats’ voters were primarily motivated by concerns about law and order, immigration, and integration (ibid.).

The Sweden Democrats have successfully built a consensus around their narrative of where Sweden is heading and what Swedish national identity is. This lies behind their policies and political rhetoric, at least up to now. I will end this article with two examples of when their narrative has established a consensus and achieved hegemony.

First, consider the failure of integration mantra. While many agree that integration has failed, few agree on what integration actually means. The SD offers a simple explanation: excessive immigration has weakened social cohesion and caused fragmentation. Yet this narrative is often one-sided. Immigrants now constitute more than one-fifth of Sweden’s population, and many have integrated successfully into Swedish society. But as long as the dominant (and only) narrative is that integration has failed, the SD stands to benefit.

A second example is the oft-repeated claim that Sweden must never return to 2015. Yet 2015 created opportunities for both regressive forces and progressive mobilization (Bevelander & Hellström, 2019). While many municipalities worried that immigration was stretching their capacity to the limit, civil society organizations, churches, and private citizens mobilized to help refugees by providing housing, language cafés, and other forms of support. These examples are seldom heard now.

Living with diversity in everyday life gives rise to social tensions in the population and between groups. Sweden has now elected a new parliament. Let us see what the new government will look like. Members of the Tidö government have packed their bags. Which narratives will the new government base its law proposals on? What will be the dominant story? Populism invites us to acknowledge the storytelling dimension of representative politics. It invites us, as researchers of populism, to expand beyond politics as usual. Since the pendulum has swung back, there is reason to hope that the story, Swedish case, will have a happy continuation.


(*) Anders Hellström is Associate Professor in Political Science. He is a senior lecturer in IMER at the Department of Global Political Studies and is connected to the Migration Research Institute MIM at Malmö University. He has published widely in the areas of populism, nationalism, the far right, racism, discourse theory, and the politics of migration and identity. He has published widely in academic journals, such as Government and Opposition, Journal of International Migration and Integration, and Ethnicities. His most recent article is “You Are Not a Racist, Right?”: Racism as a Political Activity, which examines the intersection between discourse and ideology in contemporary struggles over the meaning of racism.


 

References

Abbott, P. (2007). ‘“Bryan, Bryan, Bryan, Bryan”: Democratic Theory, Populism, and Philip Roth’s ‘American Trilogy’.” Canadian Review of American Studies, vol. 37, no. 3: 431–452.

Canovan, M. (1999). Trust the People! Populism and the Two Faces of Democracy. Political Studies, 47(1), 2-16. 

Hellström, A. and Nilsson, T. (2010). “‘We Are the Good Guys’: Ideological Positioning of the Nationalist Party Sverigedemokraterna in Contemporary Swedish Politics’.” Ethnicities, 10(1), pp. 55-76.

Kristersson, U. (2026). Statement by Prime Minister Ulf Kristersson. Stockholm: Government Offices of Sweden.https://www.government.se/ (accessed: 15 September 2026).

Mudde, Cas. (2019). The Far Right Today. 

Social Democratic Party. (2025). Social Democrats Adopt New Program with Adjusted Immigration Policy. Available at: Sweden Herald. (accessed: 15 September 2026).

SVT Nyheter. (2026). Väljarnas viktigaste frågor. Publicerad 13 september 2026, uppdaterad 14 september 2026. Available at: https://www.svt.se/nyheter/valjarnas-viktigaste-fragor  (accessed: 15 September 2026)

Underground platinum and palladium mining operations and machinery in Johannesburg.

Green Colonialism or Green Sovereignty? Africa’s Critical Minerals and the Politics of the Energy Transition

Africa’s centrality to the global energy transition rests increasingly on its vast reserves of critical minerals, yet mineral abundance alone does not guarantee developmental sovereignty. Dr. Oludele Mayowa Solaja’s commentary argues that the key challenge is whether African states remain low-value extractive peripheries or convert geological advantage into industrial capacity, technological learning, regional value chains, ecological accountability, and democratic bargaining power. It develops the concept of transition sovereignty to capture the ability of resource-rich societies to shape extraction, processing, governance, knowledge, finance, and value distribution on their own terms. Rather than rejecting foreign investment, the article calls for strategic interdependence, stronger regionalism, and accountable institutions capable of ensuring that decarbonization produces not only cleaner technologies, but also more equitable and developmentally transformative outcomes for African societies.

By Dr. Oludele Mayowa Solaja

The global energy transition is frequently framed as a clean break from the extractive political economy of fossil fuels. But decarbonization technologies such as digital infrastructure, electricity grids, electric vehicles, batteries, and wind turbines rely on another extractive frontier—critical minerals. Strategic materials such as lithium, cobalt, copper, manganese, graphite, and rare earth elements are emerging as essential materials for a low-carbon economy. In Africa, this transition is dominated, yet its importance is underutilized: the continent provides substantial amounts of minerals needed by clean-technology industries. Still, it receives only a small share of the value (IEA, 2025). The big question is not whether Africa will provide the green transition, but what it will look like and whether African societies have the political, industrial, and technological capacity to define its terms.

This is different from green colonialism and what this commentary calls transition sovereignty. Green colonialism is not just the extraction of African minerals by foreign companies. It describes a larger political-economic trend that is creating a material geography of global decarbonization where the rents of processing, technological control, knowledge, finance, and supply chains lie disproportionately elsewhere, particularly in Africa. The language of the commodity shifts, from oil to coal, lithium to cobalt and copper—but so does the underlying asymmetry. The threat is not the exclusion of Africa from the green transition. It is that Africa will be represented on conditions that mirror its historical role as a low-value exporter of ecological wealth.

A new yardstick exists for measuring Africa’s involvement: transition sovereignty. It means the ability of resource-rich societies to decide on the extraction, processing, governance and distribution of transition minerals, as well as to develop their own and regional skills and expertise in industry, technology, knowledge, financing and ecological regulation. It’s less restrictive than state ownership and less strict than local content rules. A country has transition sovereignty if mineral wealth increases its bargaining power, builds productive capacity, benefits society, safeguards ecological and community interests, and lets African actors shape the organization of global green value chains. The issue is not only who owns the mine, but who decides and has the power to make the decisions and technologies that start underground and end up at the surface of the decarbonization technologies.

Beyond Resource Control: Building Productive and Technological Capacity

But Africa is starting to challenge the conditions of the transition. The African Union’s Green Minerals Strategy focuses on value addition at source, regional industrialization, climate resilience, and integrated value chains, rather than relying on raw mineral exports (African Union, 2025). National export controls also indicate a clear direction of travel. Since 2023, Africa has implemented at least 14 measures to limit the export of raw or semi-processed minerals, and in February 2026, Zimbabwe banned the export of all raw minerals and lithium concentrates to encourage in-country beneficiation and accountability (Africa Centre for Strategic Studies, 2026; Reuters, 2026a). Such measures cannot be idealized as definitions of sovereignty. They are better understood as efforts to renegotiate where value exits African economies.

Zimbabwe provides a revealing illustration of both the possibilities and limits of resource sovereignty. The action was directly tied to in-country value addition, accountability and beneficiation (Reuters, 2026a) in its February 2026 suspension of exports of raw minerals and lithium concentrates. This policy reflects a well-known model in which upstream mining companies in Africa export concentrates, and downstream processing and value-added manufacturing occur elsewhere. But restricting exports is just the first step. An export ban can generate ‘protected extraction without transformative industrialization’ without reliable electricity, transport, finance, processing technologies, skilled labor, industrial demand and credible institutions. The real question is: Does export restraint build productive capabilities, or does it merely shift rents at the mine gate?

Thus, the Zimbabwean example illustrates an overarching lesson in the theory of transition sovereignty: control of the commodity is not enough if it is not matched by control over the capabilities attached to it. Industrialization does not need to be confined within the national boundaries. It needs to develop, process, create, capitalize, and integrate mineral production resources into local economies. The IEA sees Africa’s opportunity in spreading the transition’s economic value across the global value chain, because its economic value is distributed unevenly along the chain (IEA, 2025). In this sense, sovereignty is not realized by stopping the extraction; it is realized by transforming a geological advantage into a sustainable productive capacity.

Knowledge Sovereignty and the Regionalization of Green Value Chains

Another aspect of the issue is related to knowledge sovereignty, as demonstrated in the Democratic Republic of Congo (DRC). In September 2026, the Congolese government stepped up its efforts to centralize geological information by creating a national geological databank, along with new aerial surveys and digital mapping. The goal is to strengthen state control, reduce the information imbalance, and boost the state’s negotiating leverage in mining deals (Reuters, 2026b). This is important because mineral sovereignty is also epistemic (knowledge-based). Information on the location, quality, access, and strategic value of deposits shapes investment, licensing, negotiation, and long-term planning. Formal ownership of mineral deposits can coexist with informational dependency, as long as geological intelligence, technical standards, and data infrastructures are externally dominated.

The DRC case also reminds us to see transition sovereignty beyond the state. If enhancing the bargaining power of government is to produce “public value,” “transparency” in contracts, “environmental accountability,” and “meaningful benefits” to “communities” and “workers,” then sovereignty is becoming “developmental.” It’s not just a matter of African States regaining control from foreign companies. It is the extent to which mineral control is institutionalized in institutions capable of making mineral governance socially accountable. Otherwise, the language of sovereignty can be used to justify a transfer of control from an outside entity to domestic elites, without changing who gets the benefits and who bears the costs.

The DRC-Zambia battery and electric-vehicle project provides a better regional prospect. Instead of treating copper and cobalt as a commodity that must leave the region before higher-value use can begin, the two nations have worked to develop a cross-border value-chain model that includes mineral processing, battery production, and industrial capabilities. The UN Economic Commission for Africa and other regional institutions have technically supported the activity. In 2025, measures were taken to strengthen engagement by firms, financial institutions, and other actors in the battery and electric-vehicle value chain. This is not limited to battery production. It shows how mineral-rich countries can be viewed as hubs of regional industrial coordination, not just sources of raw materials being bid for by foreign extractors.

Regionalism matters because many constraints to African benefaction are too great for individual states to overcome alone. Processing plants need stable energy, transport tie-ups, technical expertise, markets, capital, and volume. A regional strategy can then transform uncoordinated mineral resources into coordinated industrial systems. The Southern African Development Community (SADC) initiative on environmentally and socially responsible energy-transition mineral value chains also aims to keep mineral wealth within the region and encourage livelihoods and industrialization in several southern African nations (UNECA, 2026). This requires a multi-level understanding of transition sovereignty at the national, regional, and continental levels.

Strategic Interdependence: Partnerships on Whose Terms?

But the new mineral race reveals a more profound paradox. African minerals are now being talked about in terms of partnership, supply-chain security and strategic cooperation with powers, many of them global, who seek them out. The US, EU and China have legitimate reasons to acquire access to critical minerals. For instance, in September 2026, the US government announced its support for developing critical mineral processing in Kenya, including the proposed development of the Mrima Hill resource, while stressing the importance of local processing and value-added production (Reuters, 2026c). These partnerships could be real opportunities. Diversifying external partners is not sovereignty. African countries may expand the number of buyers of their products but not substantially alter the nature of their political economy if they switch from one big buyer to a few smaller ones and they still export their low-value resources.

That is why the question “with whom?” has to be asked alongside a deeper question: “with whom for?” or “with whom on whose terms?” Colonial elements in external capital, technology, and markets are not the same. The developmental consequences relate to bargaining power, institutional design, ownership structures, local linkages, environmental protection, and rent distribution. Hence, the target should not be autarky or opposition to foreign investment. Strategic interdependence means the ability to involve global partners without giving up control over the developmental paths of mineral societies.

From Mineral Abundance to Developmental Sovereignty

The politics of critical minerals also reveal the boundaries of a technologically driven view of decarbonization. A battery can have a range of emissions during its use, whereas its material components can include land dispossession, unsafe mining practices, water stress, labor exploitation, or ecological degradation. Thus, the environmental legality of green technologies cannot be judged solely by their carbon performance. This transition is likely to result in a “cleaner” global economy, but at the cost of African communities in the mining sector. The political feasibility of green development lies in jointly considering the costs of extraction and the benefits of decarbonization.

This will expand to include community and labor. Foreign ownership does not inevitably mean environmental damage, and state ownership does not necessarily mean that it is socially just. The key is whether the rights of people living and working around the mineral frontiers are meaningful and include access to information, voice, and benefits of extraction. Artisanal and small-scale miners are important in this context. Formalization cannot be used to criminalize informal miners; it should provide avenues to formalize their lives, safety, skills, and value addition. Otherwise, the switch could perpetuate the traditional scenario where people near the source of value bear the risk of extraction, while value is generated further up the chain.

The strategic question for Africa is then no longer whether to accept or reject the green transition, but rather how to do so. It’s a choice between engaging in it as an extractive periphery and as an industrial, technological, and political actor. The latter requires reliable and affordable energy, transport infrastructure, mineral-processing capacity, regional markets, skills, research and development, transparent contracts, accountable institutions, and effective protections for communities and workers. It also demands that governments differentiate between resource nationalism and transformation. National control may be a tool for development, but it is not development.

Decarbonization on Africa’s Terms

The green colonialism and transition sovereignty binary should thus be viewed as a spectrum of political-economic options. An African country can boost state bargaining power without excluding communities from the benefits; it can boost local processing but remain highly technology-dependent; or it can attract several foreign investors but keep exporting the bulk of the value contribution of its minerals. On the other hand, through mineral policy, a country can pursue regional industrialization, develop its own capacities and skills, improve ecological governance, and increase democratic involvement. The shift is therefore not necessarily green, just, sovereign, or developmental. Its character is being politically constructed.

This is therefore a both-and situation for the developing critical-mineral economy. Africa’s strategic position, which it could use to renegotiate its role in global geopolitics, will not create sovereignty if it is merely geologically abundant. The important question is whether mineral extraction becomes a basis for industrial potential, technological learning, fiscal independence, ecological responsibility, and democratic negotiating strength. The question is no longer just whether the world can decarbonize, but how. It’s about who has the power to decide, who receives the value created along the chain, who pays the environmental and social costs, and who controls the material foundations of decarbonization.

If Africa is the source of the mines, then others are the source of the manufacture, and the color of colonialism can vary without its political economy changing. The energy transition may be more than just a change in energy systems if Africa’s mineral wealth is translated into regional industrial capability, technological capability, ecological responsibility, and democratic bargaining power. It may be a chance to reimagine Africa’s economics in the international arena. This is the true measure of transition sovereignty—whether Africa provides the green transition or whether Africa can help regulate the transition.


 

References

Africa Center for Strategic Studies. (2026). Reciprocal and resilient mineral supply chains: Lessons from the Nacala Corridor. https://africacenter.org/spotlight/mineral-supply-chains-nacala-corridor/

African Union. (2025). Africa’s Green Minerals Strategy (AGMS). African Union Commission.https://au.int/sites/default/files/documents/44539-doc-AGMS_Final_doc.pdf

International Energy Agency. (2025). Stepping up the value chain in Africa. IEA, Paris.https://www.iea.org/reports/stepping-up-the-value-chain-in-africa

Reuters. (2026a, February 25). “Zimbabwe bans exports of all raw minerals and lithium concentrates, cites malpractices.” https://www.reuters.com/world/africa/zimbabwe-bans-exports-all-raw-minerals-lithium-concentrates-2026-02-25/

Reuters. (2026b, September 8). “Congo extends state control over mining with bid to lock down geological data.” https://www.reuters.com/world/africa/congo-extends-state-control-over-mining-with-bid-lock-down-geological-data-2026-09-08/

Reuters. (2026c, September 9). “US says it will help develop Kenya’s critical minerals processing.” https://www.reuters.com/world/africa/us-says-it-will-help-develop-kenyas-critical-minerals-processing-2026-09-09/

United Nations Economic Commission for Africa. (2024, April 15). “Zambia and DRC to implement an innovative transboundary battery and electric vehicle Special Economic Zone.” https://www.uneca.org/stories/zambia-and-drc-to-implement-an-innovative-transboundary-battery-and-electric-vehicle-special

United Nations Economic Commission for Africa. (2025, September 11). “ECA capacitates micro, small and medium enterprises in DRC and Zambia to tap battery and electric vehicle value chain opportunities.” https://www.uneca.org/stories/eca-capacitates-micro-small-and-medium-enterprises-in-drc-and-zambia-to-tap-battery-and

United Nations Economic Commission for Africa. (2026, June 2). “SADC launches landmark initiative to build sustainable energy transition mineral value chains.” https://www.uneca.org/stories/sadc-launches-landmark-initiative-to-build-sustainable-energy-transition-mineral-value

Tourists in Havana.

From Mobility Inequality to Populist Grievance: Passport Privilege, Travel Influencers, and the Politics of the Digital Tourist Gaze

In this commentary, author Zeynep Temel examines how passport hierarchies and unequal mobility shape not only who can travel, but also who gains the authority to represent the world through digital tourism. Drawing on research on visa regimes, mobility infrastructure, the tourist gaze, and platform-mediated representation, she argues that passport privilege can become representational privilege. Travel influencers do not simply document destinations; they participate in constructing their meanings for global audiences. Yet access to this representational power is structured by nationality, class, wealth, and mobility rights. Temel further shows how such inequalities can feed broader grievances around globalization, exclusion, sovereignty, and dignity, creating discursive conditions in which populist narratives may resonate without claiming that mobility inequality itself directly causes populism.

By Zeynep Temel*

A striking map of the world has circulated repeatedly on social media. Produced by Sightsmap from geotagged photographs uploaded to Google’s former Panoramio service, it visualizes photographic activity as points of light. Europe glows. North America is heavily illuminated. Other parts of the world appear far more sparsely represented. In the ranking associated with the map, New York, Rome, and Barcelona occupied the first three positions among the world’s most photographed cities (Marcus, 2014; Swanson, 2015).

Author-generated visualization inspired by the historical geography represented in Sightsmap. Sightsmap combined crowdsourced digital traces, principally geotagged photographic metadata from Google’s former Panoramio service, with other sources to estimate the popularity of places of tourist interest. The visualization should be understood as an illustrative reconstruction of the unequal geography of visibility represented by this historical digital ecosystem, rather than as a reproduction of the original Sightsmap or a comprehensive measure of global photographic activity (Tammet et al., 2013).

The map is not a contemporary measure of Instagram or TikTok activity. Panoramio itself was discontinued, and the visualization reflects a particular platform, user population, and period of digital photography. It should therefore not be mistaken for a neutral map of where photographs are taken today. Yet this limitation arguably makes the image more interesting rather than less. As an early visualization of digital tourism, Sightsmap raises a question that has become considerably more important in the age of travel influencers: who gets to see the world; and, consequently, who gets to construct its image for everyone else?

Contemporary travel content often makes international mobility appear almost frictionless. Creators move from Bangkok to Paris, spend a weekend in Istanbul, “discover” villages in the Caucasus, or work remotely from Bali. Borders are rarely protagonists in these narratives. Travel appears primarily as a function of curiosity, money, and individual choice. But a British, German, or Japanese travel creator and an Afghan, Pakistani, Nigerian, or Syrian creator do not encounter the same world of borders. They may look at the same map, but the map does not offer them the same possibilities.

This matters beyond tourism. If travel influencers increasingly participate in constructing how destinations are imagined by audiences who may never visit them, unequal access to international mobility also produces unequal opportunities to participate in the production of the global tourist imaginary. Passport privilege can, in other words, become representational privilege.

The Unequal Geography of Global Mobility

The passport is one of the most consequential yet normalized mechanisms through which states distribute international mobility. Research on visa regimes shows that globalization has not produced a uniformly borderless world. Instead, borders have become more permeable for particular populations. Czaika, de Haas, and Villares-Varela (2018) demonstrate the persistent differentiation built into international visa regimes, while Mau and colleagues (2015) describe the resulting hierarchy as a “global mobility divide.”

For holders of powerful passports, this divide can remain almost invisible. International travel may require little advance planning beyond purchasing transportation and accommodation. For others, the same journey can involve consular appointments, proof of employment and income, bank statements, travel insurance, accommodation reservations, substantial fees, and uncertainty over whether permission will ultimately be granted. 

The costs of this system are themselves unequally distributed. Recchi, Deutschmann, and Gabrielli (2020) show that visa costs impose disproportionate burdens on travelers from poorer countries. Neumayer (2006) similarly demonstrates how visa restrictions allow states to regulate access to foreign spaces selectively rather than simply opening or closing borders to everyone equally.

Spijkerboer’s (2018) concept of a global “mobility infrastructure” is particularly useful here. International movement depends upon a network of laws, airports, consulates, transportation systems, technologies, financial resources, and administrative categories. This infrastructure enables some people to move quickly and predictably while making movement considerably more difficult for others.

A powerful passport therefore represents more than convenience. It is a form of mobility capital. And in the age of social media, mobility capital can become cultural capital.

Who Constructs the Tourist Gaze?

Urry’s (1990) classic concept of the “tourist gaze” challenged the idea that tourists simply encounter destinations as they are. What travelers consider beautiful, authentic, exotic, romantic, or worth photographing is shaped by representations they have encountered before travelling. The Sightsmap visualization offers an unusually literal illustration of this process. It does not simply tell us where tourists went; it records where a particular population of digitally connected travelers chose to photograph and geotag their surroundings. Research using geolocated tourism data has since demonstrated both the usefulness and the limitations of such digital traces: different platforms capture different tourist practices and populations, meaning that no single dataset can straightforwardly represent tourism itself (Salas-Olmedo et al., 2018).

Social media has nevertheless dramatically accelerated the circulation of the tourist gaze. Before visiting Cappadocia, travelers encounter thousands of images of hot-air balloons at sunrise. Bali appears through temples, beaches, rice terraces, and infinity pools. Paris is repeatedly condensed into a recognizable repertoire of balconies, cafés, streets, and monuments. Travelers subsequently reproduce many of those images themselves.

Instagram therefore does not simply document tourism. Research suggests that it participates in the co-creation of destination image: tourists, residents, tourism organizations, and influencers continuously produce and reproduce visual understandings of places (Iglesias-Sánchez et al., 2020). Influencers occupy an especially interesting position within this process. Their authority depends partly on the appearance of personal experience. Unlike conventional tourism advertising, influencer content often presents itself as an individual encounter with a destination: this is what I saw; this is what I discovered; this is what you should experience.

Yet these narratives necessarily involve selection. Landscapes are chosen, neighborhoods included or excluded, encounters edited, and experiences organized into coherent stories. Research examining influencer representations of destinations such as Iran demonstrates how social-media creators can reshape destination images by foregrounding particular dimensions of everyday life, hospitality, culture, and perceived authenticity. (Saeidi Motahar et al., 2021)

A constructivist perspective makes the significance of this process clearer. Destinations do not possess internationally shared meanings independently of representation. Their identities as “dangerous,” “romantic,” “authentic,” “undiscovered,” or “adventurous” are socially produced and stabilized through repeated narratives and images. Travel influencers increasingly participate in this meaning-making. The important question, then, is not simply what they show. It is who gets to travel enough to become an authoritative narrator of the world in the first place.

When Passport Privilege Becomes Representational Privilege

The connection does not require an assumption that Instagram or TikTok deliberately privileges particular nationalities. The mechanism is more mundane. Consider the conditions necessary to build a career around international travel. A creator able to enter dozens of countries without obtaining visas in advance can respond quickly to cheap flights, tourism-board invitations, brand collaborations, and emerging destinations. Travel can be frequent and spontaneous. Content can consequently be produced at the regular pace demanded by platform economies.

A creator requiring visas for many of those destinations faces a different production environment. Trips may need to be planned months ahead. Applications cost money. Passports may remain at consulates during processing. Bookings can be required before a visa decision is known. An application may simply be rejected. Mobility advantage can therefore become a content-production advantage.

Successful content generates followers and commercial opportunities; those opportunities finance further travel; further travel produces additional content. Passport privilege does not determine who succeeds as an influencer, and creators from the Global South are neither absent nor passive within digital tourism. Wealth, class, language, domestic mobility, and platform access further complicate any simple North–South division.

But nationality still structures the administrative conditions under which cross-border content can be produced. This is also why Said’s (1978) much older question of representational authority remains relevant. Orientalism was concerned not merely with whether Western descriptions of other societies were accurate, but with the unequal power to classify, describe, and produce knowledge about them. 

Digital tourism is obviously not equivalent to nineteenth-century Orientalism, and every outsider representation of another society should not be interpreted as domination. Yet the underlying questions remain surprisingly contemporary: Who moves? Who observes? Who narrates? And who appears primarily inside somebody else’s narrative?

From Unequal Mobility to Political Grievance

The political significance of this inequality lies partly in its visibility. Social media places radically different experiences of globalization on the same screen. One person documents spontaneous weekend trips across borders; another spends months assembling documents for permission to visit a single country. Research on passport discrimination suggests that mobility restrictions can be experienced not merely as administrative inconvenience but through questions of dignity, recognition, and unequal treatment. (Yasin et al., 2024)

It would be too strong to argue that these experiences produce populism. Visa rejection does not turn someone into a populist, and travel influencers do not cause nationalist politics. The relationship is more indirect. Populist narratives frequently acquire force by translating complicated structural inequalities into morally intelligible conflicts: ordinary people against privileged elites, the nation against external institutions, or those who are excluded against those perceived to benefit from globalization.

Mobility inequality provides unusually tangible material for such grievances because it exposes one of globalization’s central contradictions. The contemporary international order celebrates openness, connectivity, and circulation while continuing to distribute the practical freedom to move largely according to nationality.

Digital platforms make this contradiction particularly visible. Research on social-media populism has shown how online communication can transform perceived exclusion, foreign influence, and national grievance into politically resonant narratives (Ragragio, 2022). Mobility inequality can enter the same discursive environment, particularly where unequal treatment becomes interpreted through wider debates over Western privilege, sovereignty, globalization, or national dignity. Travel influencers do not create this inequality. They can, however, inadvertently become some of its most visible symbols.

The Politics Behind the Picture

This brings us back to the illuminated Sightsmap. Its brightest areas should not be read simply as a hierarchy of beautiful or interesting places. Nor can they straightforwardly be interpreted as a map of passport privilege: population, tourism infrastructure, platform adoption, wealth, connectivity, and the particular demographics of Panoramio users all shaped what became visible. But that is precisely the point. Maps of digital visibility are produced by social conditions. They do not simply mirror the world.

The same is true of contemporary travel influencing. Calls for greater diversity among travel creators are worthwhile, but representation cannot be separated from the conditions under which representation is produced. If some creators face substantially greater obstacles simply to reach destinations, the imbalance cannot be solved entirely through more inclusive influencer campaigns or changes in platform policy.

Part of the inequality exists before anyone opens Instagram. It exists in visa regimes, consular practices, passport hierarchies, income inequalities, transportation networks, and the broader infrastructure governing international movement.

A constructivist reading of travel influencing brings these elements together. Influencers do not merely reflect an already existing tourist world. Through repeated images, narratives, classifications, and recommendations, they participate in constructing that world; helping determine which destinations become desirable, which places appear dangerous or welcoming, and what counts as an “authentic” experience. But the opportunity to participate in this construction is itself structured by unequal mobility.

The digital tourist gaze therefore tells us something larger about globalization. The freedom to see the world and the power to represent it are not entirely separate privileges. Those who can cross borders most easily are particularly well positioned to narrate what lies on the other side. The question raised by that old map of illuminated photographs is therefore still worth asking: when the world becomes an image, who gets to take the picture?


 

(*) Zeynep Temel is a PhD candidate in International Political Economy at Marmara University, Istanbul, and is currently based in Shanghai conducting research for her doctoral dissertation. Her research interests span inequality, platform capitalism, popular culture, and gender, with a regional focus on East Asia. She works on how economic and political structures shape everyday practices, identities, and moral expectations, particularly through attention, consumption, and labor under contemporary capitalism.


 

References

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Iglesias-Sánchez, P. P.; Correia, M. B.; Jambrino-Maldonado, C. & de las Heras-Pedrosa, C. (2020). “Instagram as a co-creation space for tourist destination image-building: Algarve and Costa del Sol case studies.” Sustainability, 12(7), 2793. https://doi.org/10.3390/su12072793

Marcus, L. (2014, November 24). “The most photographed places in Europe.” Condé Nast Traveler.

Mau, S.; Gülzau, F.; Laube, L. & Zaun, N. (2015). “The global mobility divide: How visa policies have evolved over time.” Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 41(8), 1192–1213. https://doi.org/10.1080/1369183X.2015.1005007

Neumayer, E. (2006). “Unequal access to foreign spaces: How states use visa restrictions to regulate mobility in a globalized world.” Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers, 31(1), 72–84. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1475-5661.2006.00194.x

Ragragio, J. L. D. (2022). “Facebook populism: Mediatized narratives of exclusionary nationalism in the Philippines.” Asian Journal of Communication, 32. https://doi.org/10.1080/01292986.2021.1993943

Recchi, E.; Deutschmann, E. & Gabrielli, L. (2020). “Assessing visa costs on a global scale.” SSRN Electronic Journal. https://doi.org/10.2139/SSRN.3630141

Saeidi Motahar, P.; Tavakoli, R. & Mura, P. (2021). “Social media influencers’ visual framing of Iran on YouTube.” Tourism Recreation Research. https://doi.org/10.1080/02508281.2021.2014252

Said, E. W. (1978). Orientalism. Pantheon Books.

Salas-Olmedo, M. H.; García-Palomares, J. C. & Gutiérrez, J. (2018). “Tourists’ digital footprint in cities: Comparing big data sources.” Tourism Management, 66, 13–25.

Spijkerboer, T. (2018). “The global mobility infrastructure: Reconceptualising the externalisation of migration control.” European Journal of Migration and Law, 20(4), 452–469. https://doi.org/10.1163/15718166-12340038

Swanson, A. (2015, August 26). “The world’s most photographed places.” The Washington Post. https://www.washingtonpost.com/news/wonk/wp/2015/08/26/the-worlds-most-photographed-places/

Tammet, T.; Luberg, A. & Järv, P. (2013). “Sightsmap: Crowd-sourced popularity of the world places.” In: Information and Communication Technologies in Tourism 2013 (pp. 314–325). Springer.

Urry, J. (1990). The tourist gaze: Leisure and travel in contemporary societies. Sage.

Yasin, R.; Ali, Ayesha; Namoco, Sarah. (2024). “Passport discrimination from the lens of critical phenomenological perspective.” International Journal of Sociology and Social Policy. https://doi.org/10.1108/IJSSP-04-2024-0169

A man counts money.

Stealing from the Future: Erdogan’s Medium-Term Program and Economic Populism for Electoral Survival

Professor Ibrahim Ozturk argues that Turkey’s 2027–2029 Medium-Term Program is less a credible development strategy than a politically sequenced exercise in economic populism. While promising lower inflation, faster growth, and technological upgrading, the program simultaneously expands current transfers, procurement, interest payments, and fiscal deficits while squeezing productive capital expenditure. Professor Ozturk contends that this structure reproduces a familiar electoral cycle: benefits are front-loaded, while the costs are deferred through inflation, taxation, debt, currency depreciation, and declining real wages. He further warns that Turkey is shifting from a developmental state toward a transfer state in which politically protected rents crowd out productivity-enhancing investment. The ultimate cost, he argues, is not merely fiscal instability but the erosion of Turkey’s long-term productive capacity and competitive advantage.

By Ibrahim Ozturk

Economic Populism: A Brief Conceptual Background

The classical paradigm of macroeconomic populism, articulated by Rüdiger Dornbusch and Sebastian Edwards in The Macroeconomics of Populism in Latin America, describes a self-defeating political-economic cycle in which governments prioritize short-term growth and redistribution while discounting inflation, fiscal sustainability, productive capacity, and external constraints. These programs generally emerge in societies marked by deep socioeconomic inequality, declining trust in established institutions, and accumulated demands for redistribution. Governments respond by combining expansionary fiscal policies, rapid credit growth, substantial nominal wage increases, administered prices, subsidies, and attempts to suppress exchange-rate volatility. During the initial phase, the resulting demand shock can generate a temporary boom: capacity utilization rises, employment expands, real wages may initially improve, and politically visible consumption increases.

The apparent success of this first phase reinforces the government’s claim that conventional fiscal and monetary constraints can safely be disregarded. Yet the expansion does not necessarily increase productive capacity. When aggregate demand exceeds domestic supply, production bottlenecks intensify, imports rise, foreign-exchange requirements increase, and inflationary pressures accumulate. Attempts to suppress inflation through price controls, subsidized credit, fiscal transfers, or an overvalued exchange rate merely postpone—and often magnify—the eventual adjustment.

As foreign-exchange reserves decline and fiscal and external imbalances become increasingly difficult to finance, inflation accelerates, confidence deteriorates, capital moves abroad or into foreign currency, and the domestic currency depreciates. The government is ultimately forced to adopt stabilization measures involving tighter credit, higher interest rates, fiscal retrenchment, tax increases, and real-wage compression. The central paradox identified by Dornbusch and Edwards is therefore distributive: the social groups whom populist policies initially promise to protect frequently bear the heaviest burden of the subsequent crisis and adjustment.

A second strand of the literature explains why such policies remain politically attractive despite their recurrent economic costs. Acemoglu, Egorov, and Sonin argue that politicians may strategically adopt radical or economically costly positions to signal that they are not controlled by established elites. This signaling mechanism can make policy extremism electorally advantageous even when its longer-term economic consequences are damaging.

Dani Rodrik, in turn, emphasizes that globalization, technological disruption, regional inequalities, and distributional shocks generate genuine grievances that populist actors can mobilize. Populism therefore cannot be understood solely as manipulation from above. It also draws strength from real failures of representation, social protection, and economic inclusion. Once political leaders weaken institutional constraints and subordinate economic policy to electoral survival, however, legitimate grievances can become a mechanism for sustaining increasingly discretionary and unsustainable policies.

The conceptual distinction is crucial. Redistribution is not inherently populist, nor is every expansionary fiscal policy economically irresponsible. Redistribution becomes part of populist macroeconomic management when politically visible benefits are concentrated before an electoral deadline, their financing is concealed or deferred, productive and institutional constraints are disregarded, and the eventual adjustment is transferred to society through inflation, taxation, currency depreciation, public debt, unemployment, and declining real wages.

From the Classical Populist Cycle to Turkey’s Growth-Inflation Trap

Turkey’s recent experience does not reproduce every element of the classical Latin American model mechanically. It nevertheless displays several of its central political-economic mechanisms: the subordination of monetary policy to political objectives, credit-led demand expansion, the erosion of central bank credibility, extensive reliance on administrative interventions, the depletion of foreign-exchange buffers, and the postponement of adjustment until after politically critical moments.

Figure 1 places Turkey’s real GDP growth and officially reported year-end consumer-price inflation side by side. Between 2018 and 2025, inflation rose dramatically without a corresponding durable acceleration in real economic growth. The exceptional growth recorded in 2021 largely reflected the post-pandemic recovery, strong credit expansion via artificially subsidized negative real interest rates, and favorable base effects; it should not be interpreted as evidence that higher inflation generated structurally stronger growth.

2018–2025 growth figures of Turkish economy.
Note: 2018–2025 growth figures are annual changes in real GDP, and inflation figures are December year-on-year CPI rates. For 2026, the figure uses Q2 year-on-year GDP growth and June year-on-year CPI inflation. The correlation is descriptive and does not imply causality. Source: Author’s compilation based on TurkStat and CBRT data.

The simple contemporaneous correlation between the two variables is positive but only moderate—approximately 0.44—and does not establish causality. More importantly, the temporal pattern reveals a widening divergence between nominal instability and real economic performance. Inflation exceeded 64 percent in 2022 and 2023, while real GDP growth remained close to 5 percent. As officially reported inflation subsequently declined, growth also weakened, reaching 2.3 percent year on year in the second quarter of 2026.

The central issue is therefore not whether inflation and growth occasionally move in the same direction, but whether inflationary expansion produces sustainable improvements in productivity, investment quality, technological capacity, employment, and household welfare. Turkey’s experience provides little evidence that it does. An inflationary growth strategy can temporarily support consumption, construction, government-directed investment, and politically connected sectors without generating comparable improvements in total factor productivity or long-term supply capacity. Measured GDP growth may consequently coexist with deteriorating income distribution, declining purchasing power, inefficient capital allocation, and eroding institutional credibility.

Turkey’s 2027–2029 Medium-Term Program (MTP) should be read through this conceptual and empirical lens. Although presented as a medium-term framework, its macroeconomic targets, expenditure composition, revenue assumptions, and sequencing of policy measures reveal a considerably shorter political horizon. The central question is whether the program constitutes a credible transition towards price stability, productive investment, institutional normalization, and distributive justice—or another attempt to defer structural adjustment while protecting Erdogan’s immediate political survival.

The Three Tests of an Economic Program

Every serious economic program must answer three elementary questions. First, how will the economy produce more and better goods and services? Second, how will scarce capital, labor, public revenue and foreign exchange be allocated to their most productive uses? Third, how will the resulting national income be distributed across households, firms, regions and generations? Growth, allocation and distribution are not separate chapters. They are a single system.

Analytical Frame: What the MTP Must Demonstrate

 

Judged by this triad, the MTP fails at a deeper level than forecast inconsistency. It subordinates production to demand management, efficiency to politically protected transfers, and distributional justice to a sequence in which organized beneficiaries receive secure returns while the wider public absorbs inflation, taxation and deteriorating public services.

A Program Without an Institutional Kitchen

The MTP reads less like the output of an autonomous professional planning process than a document assembled backward from a political requirement. The targets appear first; the behavioral mechanisms, policy instruments, implementation responsibilities, risk scenarios and trade-offs needed to make them mutually consistent are either missing or underdeveloped. This is what a program produced under political pressure looks like: arithmetic without architecture.

That weakness is inseparable from institutional history. The State Planning Organization (SPO), which accumulated specialized staff, sectoral memory and a culture of medium-term coordination, was abolished as a distinct organization in 2011 and transferred into the Ministry of Development. In 2018, the Presidency reorganized planning and budgeting functions under the Strategy and Budget Presidency. Formal responsibilities remained, but the center of gravity shifted from relatively autonomous technocratic coordination to a vertically controlled executive structure. The 2018 Presidential Decree establishing the Strategy and Budget Presidency documents these institutional changes. The analytical conclusion follows from the MTP itself: when autonomy, professional challenge, and collective deliberation are weakened, implausible assumptions are less likely to be questioned before publication. The issue is not the personal competence of every civil servant involved. It is the institutional environment in which competence can no longer constrain politics. Merit, teamwork and professional dissent cannot correct a program when the desired electoral conclusion is fixed in advance.

A Medium-term Program with a Short-term Political Horizon

The MTP projects faster growth, lower inflation, falling unemployment, a smaller current-account deficit and—after a temporary 2027 deterioration—a lower budget deficit. None of these outcomes is impossible in isolation. Their simultaneous delivery, however, requires a major productivity shock, stronger expectations, sustained capital inflows and unusually high policy credibility. The MTP states the destination more clearly than the transmission mechanism.

The Fiscal Fingerprint of an Early Election

The program’s political character is clearest in the 2027 budget. Expenditure rises faster than revenue; the budget deficit increases by almost 47 percent; and the already modest primary surplus is nearly halved. The MTP therefore does not begin its disinflation story with fiscal restraint. It begins with fiscal expansion.

The deficit-to-GDP ratio rises from 3.1 percent in 2026 to 3.5 percent in 2027, while the primary surplus almost disappears. In other words, the fiscal stance loosens just as the MTP claims inflation expectations will be decisively anchored.

Against the MTP’s roughly 25 percent 2027 deflator, current transfers rise by about 16 percent in real terms and purchases of goods and services by roughly 15.5 percent, while capital spending falls by about 17 percent in real terms. The contradiction is not rhetorical; it is embedded in the allocation. The MTP’s narrative promises technological upgrading; its budget finances current transfers, procurement and interest.

The 2023 Cycle Is Being Reconstructed

Turkey’s 2023 election cycle combined subsidized credit, public wage and pension increases, retirement arrangements, tax restructuring, energy support and extensive foreign-exchange and credit interventions. After the election came sharp depreciation, higher indirect taxes, tighter monetary policy and declining real purchasing power. The sequencing mattered: the benefit was immediate and politically visible; the correction was delayed and socially dispersed.

The MTP’s 2027–2029 path risks reconstructing the same political technology. The 2027 expansion supplies the distributive moment; the lower deficits and inflation promised for 2028–2029 imply the later correction. This is the classic time structure described by the economic-populism literature.

Distribution: Poverty Is Not a Footnote

The MTP discusses per-capita income and social policy, but aggregate averages conceal the depth of the subsistence crisis. Labor union TURK-IS calculated the August 2026 monthly food-only hunger threshold for a four-person household at TRY 37,388 and the broader poverty threshold at TRY 121,786; the estimated living cost of a single employee was TRY 48,305. These benchmarks show how far ordinary labor income has fallen behind the cost of basic reproduction.

The comparison permits a forceful but precise conclusion: the average household income of the poorest 40 percent is below the TURK-IS hunger threshold, while the average income of the bottom 80 percent is below its poverty threshold. This does not mean every household in those quintiles falls below the relevant line; the figures are quintile averages, and the TURK-IS thresholds refer to a four-person household. (See TURK-IS, August 2026 Hunger and Poverty Threshold. TUIK’s official relative-poverty rate—13.0 percent in 2025—uses an equivalized median-income methodology and therefore answers a different question. The two measures should not be conflated).

The methodological caution does not weaken the substantive conclusion. When the minimum wage is below a food-only threshold for a representative family, and the broader basic-needs budget is multiples of ordinary earnings, distributional stress is systemic. The MTP’s reliance on indirect taxation, inflationary erosion, and delayed adjustment means that lower- and middle-income households finance a disproportionate share of the program.

Economic populism does not correct this injustice. It temporarily compensates selected groups, then recreates poverty through inflation, currency depreciation, taxation, and compressed real wages. It distributes relief politically and distributes the bill socially.

Tax More, Privatize More, Borrow More

The revenue side does not solve the contradiction; it exposes it. In 2027, tax revenue is programmed to grow by 36.5 percent, faster than nominal GDP growth of about 30.3 percent. Tax revenue rises from 17.1 to 17.9 percent of GDP, while the total tax burden, including social-security contributions, moves from 24.3 percent in 2026 to 24.8 percent in 2027 and 25.1 percent by 2029. The MTP therefore couples visible expenditure with a rising social tax burden.

Privatization revenue jumps by roughly 70 percent in 2027, yet the MTP does not identify the assets, valuation logic or economic rationale behind that acceleration. Even if fully realized, the proceeds would finance less than 5 percent of the projected budget deficit. This is not a structural revenue strategy; it is a temporary financing device. Tax more, sell more and borrow more—then channel the proceeds into current expenditure, interest and guaranteed returns.

From a Developmental State to a Transfer State: Interest as Upward Redistribution

The MTP projects approximately TRY 13.9 trillion in cumulative interest payments during 2027–2029, against only about TRY 7.1 trillion in capital expenditure. In 2027 alone, interest is 2.15 times capital spending and close to 20 percent of tax revenue. At TRY 3.98 trillion, interest expenditure even exceeds the projected TRY 3.87 trillion budget deficit.

Interest is not merely a technical cost of debt. Under these conditions, it becomes a distributional mechanism: broad-based taxation and inflation-generated fiscal revenue are transformed into secured financial returns. Resources that could support education, research, technological upgrading, industrial capability and social resilience are transferred to holders of public debt.

Guaranteed Rent Capitalism

A second transfer channel lies outside the interest line: public–private partnership guarantees. For 2026, approximately TRY 136.1 billion was discussed for rent and service payments to 18 city hospitals, while about TRY 101.3 billion was allocated for bridge, motorway and tunnel guarantees. Together, these visible channels approach TRY 237.5 billion. Parliamentary budget proceedings on city hospitals and reporting on transport guarantees illustrate how these obligations are dispersed across rents, availability payments, services, traffic or revenue guarantees and exchange-rate adjustments. The problem is not the Public–Private Partnership (PPP) instrument in principle. It is the allocation of demand and currency risk to the state, the protection of corporate revenue over long horizons, and the limited transparency of effective returns and renegotiation terms. Profit is privatized while risk is socialized.

The MTP repeatedly invokes artificial intelligence, semiconductors, digitalization, green transformation and high-value-added exports. Yet its budget composition crowds out the very capital formation needed to make those ambitions credible. The state’s function shifts: its developmental and social capacities weaken, while its tax-collecting, interest-paying and guarantee-providing roles expand.

This changes incentives throughout the economy. Firms gain more by securing public contracts, guarantees and regulatory privilege than by building capabilities, raising productivity or competing internationally. Connections and rents displace innovation and competitive advantage.

Production: Growth Without Upgrading

The MTP treats a rising GDP growth path as evidence of development. But growth generated by public consumption, protected construction, credit expansion and imported inputs is not equivalent to a durable increase in productive capacity. The relevant question is not only how fast output grows, but what is produced, with which technology, at what import content, and with what learning effect.

The OECD Economic Survey of Türkiye 2025 concludes that future convergence must increasingly come from productivity because the demographic dividend is fading and investment is already high. Yet productivity has slowed, investment has flowed disproportionately into lower-productivity areas such as housing, and intellectual-property investment has been roughly half the European share. High-technology exports have remained around 3.5 percent of manufactured exports, far below comparable upper-middle-income economies.

This is precisely why the MTP’s expenditure composition is so damaging. A country that needs skills, research, digital diffusion and export sophistication cannot treat capital spending as the residual item after interest, transfers and procurement. The program may raise measured demand in 2027 while lowering the economy’s ability to generate non-inflationary supply thereafter.

Allocation: The Destruction of Efficiency

Resource allocation is the bridge between today’s spending and tomorrow’s productive frontier. An efficient system directs finance, land, public procurement, skills and foreign exchange toward firms and sectors capable of learning, innovating and competing. A rent-based system directs them toward political access, guarantees, sheltered markets and balance-sheet protection.

The MTP deepens the second pattern. Interest payments reward the holders of financial claims; public–private partnership guarantees protect selected corporate cash flows; current transfers and procurement grow rapidly; and capital expenditure is squeezed in real terms. The result is not merely waste in a static accounting sense. It is dynamic misallocation: productive firms face high financing costs and uncertainty while politically connected activities enjoy protected returns.

The OECD’s assessment reinforces this diagnosis: productivity is impaired by skill mismatch, barriers to business dynamism, state intervention and weak competition in network sectors. It estimates that pro-competition reforms in infrastructure-dependent sectors could materially raise firm-level productivity (See the OECD’s competitiveness and innovation chapter.) The deepest cost is not this year’s deficit. It is the competitive capability that Turkey fails to build.

Economic Populism as a Strategy of Regime Reproduction

The political logic extends beyond ordinary electoral opportunism. Erdogan needs a renewed coalition, a favorable parliamentary balance and a constitutional or electoral route to reproduce the regime. Article 116 of the Constitution provides that if parliament renews elections during the president’s second term, the incumbent may stand once more. This provision does not prove a 2027 election, but it makes the concentration of fiscal expansion in 2027 politically significant. See the official English text of the Constitution of the Republic of Turkey. The MTP’s timing fits a strategy in which benefits are immediate and attributable, while costs are postponed, fragmented, and depoliticized.

Gambling with Turkey’s Future

The central problem is not that Turkey lacks resources. The program simultaneously damages all three foundations of the economy. It produces growth without sufficient productive upgrading; it allocates capital away from its highest social return; and it distributes income and adjustment costs in favor of organized financial and politically protected interests.

The immediate casualty is distributive justice. The medium-term casualty is fiscal and macroeconomic sustainability. The longest-lasting casualty, however, is competitive advantage. Inflation can eventually be reduced, and a budget can eventually be tightened. Capabilities not built, skilled people lost, firms excluded from finance, technologies not absorbed and export markets surrendered are far harder to recover.

In that sense, the MTP is less a medium-term development program than an intertemporal political bargain drafted inside a weakened institutional order. The Erdogan regime borrows from Turkey’s future to purchase support in its present. It sacrifices not only fairness in distribution, but efficiency in resource allocation and sustainability in production. The recovery can be staged; the underlying model cannot be sustained. The election comes in 2027. The taxes, inflation, debt and lost development arrive in 2028.

AfD posters.

How to Explain the AfD’s Victory in Eastern Germany

Dr. João Ferreira Dias argues that the AfD’s strength in Eastern Germany cannot be explained by poverty alone. Instead, its rise reflects the interaction of nativist attitudes, political alienation, territorial decline, demographic shrinkage, and the enduring memory of post-reunification disruption. The AfD’s political success lies in converting disparate grievances—over immigration, economic insecurity, public services, identity, and distant decision-making—into a unified anti-elite narrative. Dr. Dias stresses that the Brandmauer may remain necessary as an institutional safeguard, but it is insufficient as a political strategy. A durable democratic response, he argues, must address material insecurity, regional neglect, state capacity, immigration, and recognition while offering citizens a credible sense of belonging and a recognizable future.

By João Ferreira Dias

Some election results change governments. Others force a country to reconsider the story it tells about itself. The Alternative für Deutschland (AfD)’s victory in Saxony-Anhalt belongs to the second category. When a radical-right party comes close to winning half the electorate in a German state, it is no longer enough to speak of a “protest vote.” The question becomes a different one: how did the AfD manage, in parts of Eastern Germany, to become a socially rooted and electorally dominant political force?

The easy answer would be poverty. It is also, to a large extent, the wrong answer. The available research shows that attitudes towards immigration, national identity and political elites explain support for the AfD far better than individual economic deprivation does (Hansen & Olsen, 2024; Kailitz & Rippl, 2026; Schröder et al., 2026). But this does not mean that economics, place and abandonment are irrelevant. It points instead to something more interesting: what matters is less absolute poverty than the experience of loss — or what might be called the “fear of falling”: the loss of status, population, opportunity, recognition and control over the future. Such experiences can produce political alienation. It is the AfD, however, that supplies the nativist and anti-establishment language capable of giving that alienation meaning.

To understand this mechanism, we need to begin before the AfD itself. After 1990, Eastern Germany underwent an economic and social transformation of extraordinary intensity. Reunification was unquestionably an act of political liberation, but it also meant the disappearance of companies, careers, professional hierarchies and institutions that had structured the daily lives of millions of people. Steffen Mau describes this process in terms of status demotion, the transfer of elites, demographic transformation and the loss of biographical security (Mau, 2019). It was not simply that some people lost their jobs. For many, an entire social world suddenly lost its value.

When Economic Loss Becomes Political Memory

There is now evidence that these experiences left lasting political consequences. Kellermann (2024), studying workers affected by the privatizations carried out by the Treuhandanstalt, found lower levels of trust and greater detachment from institutions and established parties decades later. This does not mean that the Treuhand “caused” the AfD. It means that an economic experience can become a political memory when the loss is attributed to decisions made by distant institutions. There is a difference between thinking, “my job disappeared,” and thinking “they decided that the world I belonged to no longer had value.

That experience also acquired a concrete geography. Since reunification, Saxony-Anhalt has lost roughly a quarter of its population. Depopulation on this scale does not simply mean fewer inhabitants. It means young people leaving, schools with fewer pupils, shops closing, services becoming harder to sustain and communities growing progressively older. Höhne, Kölzer and Träger (2025), analyzing more than 1,400 municipalities in Eastern Germany, found a robust relationship between long-term population decline and support for the AfD. The most important finding, however, is that the same pattern does not appear with equal strength in support for the Bündnis Sahra Wagenknecht. Territorial decline, then, does not determine political choice; it creates conditions that a party may or may not be able to mobilize.

It is in this sense that Andrés Rodríguez-Pose (2018) speaks of “the revenge of the places that don’t matter.” The problem is not simply that such places are poor. It is the feeling of living in a territory from which the future has withdrawn. A region may be materially far richer than it was thirty years ago and, at the same time, feel that it has lost relevance. Universities expand elsewhere. The most prestigious jobs appear somewhere else. Young people leave. Decision-makers live far away. The country can prosper in aggregate while particular communities see, above all, what is disappearing. Inequality then ceases to exist only between individuals; it begins to exist between places.

From Collective Disadvantage to Populist Mobilization

This is where the economic explanation meets the cultural one. Recent research is quite clear on two points that have to be held together. First, nativist, anti-immigration and anti-elite attitudes are genuine political drivers of the AfD vote; they should not be reduced to some form of economic false consciousness (Hansen & Olsen, 2024; Schröder et al., 2026). Second, political alienation and feelings of collective disadvantage are particularly strong in the East and help explain why such attitudes find more fertile ground there (Kailitz & Rippl, 2026; Pickel & Pickel, 2026). Kailitz and Rippl put it especially well: the seeds are not necessarily different; the soil is more fertile.

This is how the false choice between “economics” and “culture” can be resolved. A closed factory does not automatically produce xenophobia. A distant hospital does not produce nationalism. But accumulated experiences of loss, distance and inadequate recognition can nourish the sense that institutions no longer represent “people like us.” At that point, a populist narrative becomes more plausible: there is a forgotten people, and there are elites who govern for others. That is precisely the narrative the AfD learned to build.

The party founded in 2013 did not begin with the ideological configuration we know today. It emerged above all from the euro crisis, with a Eurosceptic, conservative and economically liberal profile. Between 2015 and 2017, however, immigration, refugees, Islam and national identity shifted the party’s center of gravity, bringing it closer to what Cas Mudde defines as the populist radical right: a combination of nativism, authoritarianism and populism (Arzheimer & Berning, 2019; Mudde, 2007). The euro crisis created the organization; the refugee crisis turned it into a mass political force.

Since then, the AfD has shown an extraordinary capacity to adapt. Hansen and Olsen (2024) describe it as a populist issue entrepreneur: a party able to retain ownership of the issues on which it already enjoys an advantage — above all immigration — while continually absorbing new conflicts. The euro, refugees, the pandemic, climate, energy, gender, Ukraine and the politics of memory are very different issues. The AfD manages to present them as manifestations of the same problem. That is its central political talent.

The Brandmauer Paradox and the AfD’s Anti-Elite Narrative

A railway station that closes is a transport problem. A factory that shuts down belongs to economics. Immigration is migration policy. The war in Ukraine is foreign policy. Gender belongs to the culture wars. The AfD turns all of them into a single story: the elites in Berlin and Brussels have stopped governing in the name of ordinary people. The issues change. The culprit remains the same.

Immigration occupies a central place in this narrative because it functions both as a real political issue and as a symbolic condensation of several anxieties. It can be connected to security, housing, schools, the welfare state, Islam, borders and identity. In a territory that has already experienced profound transformations decided in distant centers of power, it can also be presented as yet another change carried out “without us.” The interpretation does not need to be empirically accurate in order to be politically effective. Populism often succeeds not because it explains each problem better, but because it connects different problems within a single moral explanation.

This is also why it is no longer sufficient to speak simply of a “protest vote.” Mudde (2019) draws attention to the contemporary normalization of the radical right: ideas that once existed on the political margins gradually enter everyday politics. The Eastern German case adds a troubling generational dimension. Heinze and Scheuer (2026) find among young AfD voters not merely volatility or rebellion, but relatively stable partisan identification, closely associated with nativism. These young people did not experience the GDR, the Treuhand or reunification. Historical experience is no longer only biographical memory. It has become, at least in part, a political inheritance.

This is where the dilemma of the Brandmauer emerges: the firewall through which Germany’s mainstream parties refuse to govern with the AfD. There are powerful democratic reasons for maintaining it. Winning elections does not give any party the right to weaken fundamental rights, pluralism, or institutional independence. But an obvious political problem arises when the excluded force comes close to winning half the vote: the more all the other parties have to cooperate in order to keep it out of power, the easier it becomes for the AfD to say that “they are all the same” and that it alone represents a genuine alternative.

Why the Brandmauer Is Necessary but Not Enough

Yascha Mounk (2018) helps illuminate the paradox: populism seeks to present the liberal institutions that constrain majority power as obstacles to democracy itself. The Brandmauer (firewall) may therefore be necessary as an institutional defense and insufficient as a political strategy. It answers the question, “how do we stop the AfD from governing?” It does not answer the prior question: “why do so many people want it to govern?”

Understanding the answer to that second question does not mean excusing it. Anne Applebaum (2020) reminds us that the contemporary illiberal threat rarely begins with the immediate destruction of democracy. It can advance through the gradual occupation of institutions, administrative changes, appointments, education, culture and the media. In Saxony-Anhalt, a move by the AfD from opposition into government would give it access to precisely these areas. Sociologically explaining an electorate does not require us to minimize the consequences of the programme it chooses.

But historical memory is not enough either. Tony Judt (2010) reminded us that post-war European democracies did not survive because of constitutions alone. They built welfare states, public services, security and the expectation that the future could be better. A democratic order becomes fragile when it can tell its citizens only two things: “adapt to change” and “do not vote for them.” The first offers no security. The second offers no project.

Perhaps this is, in the end, the best way to understand the result in Saxony-Anhalt. The AfD did not win simply because a population became poorer, or because nearly half the electorate suddenly became radicalized. It won because it managed to transform experiences of territorial decline, downward mobility and inadequate recognition into a political narrative combining nativism, anti-establishment alienation and the promise of national restoration.

It did not merely say: “you lost.” It said: “you lost because they chose others over you.” It is this move — from loss to resentment, from resentment to identity, and from identity to the ballot box — that helps explain its strength.

And that is also why the democratic response will have to be more demanding than copying the AfD, increasing fiscal transfers or reinforcing the firewall. It will have to combine credible control of immigration, state capacity, services and opportunity in peripheral regions, recognition of Eastern Germany’s distinctive historical experience, and an idea of national belonging strong enough to create community without having to turn minorities into enemies.

Because citizens do not abandon a political order only when they become poor. They can also drift away from it when they cease to believe that it contains a recognizable future for people like them, and for places like the ones in which they live.


 

References

Applebaum, A. (2020). Twilight of democracy: The seductive lure of authoritarianism. Doubleday.

Arzheimer, K., & Berning, C. C. (2019). How the Alternative for Germany (AfD) and their voters veered to the radical right, 2013–2017. Electoral Studies, 60, 102040.

Hansen, M. A., & Olsen, J. (2024). The Alternative for Germany (AfD) as populist issue entrepreneur. German Politics, 33(4), 643–667.

Heinze, A.-S., & Scheuer, T. (2026). Growing up far right? Youth support for the AfD in Eastern Germany. German Politics, 35(3), 485–515.

Höhne, B., Kölzer, J., & Träger, H. (2025). Geography of shrinkage: Local population decline and electoral support for the anti-establishment parties AfD and BSW in East German state elections. German Politics, 34(3), 449–477.

Judt, T. (2010). Ill fares the land. Penguin Press.

Kailitz, S., & Rippl, S. (2026). Same seeds, more fertile ground: Sources of AfD dominance in Eastern Germany. German Politics, 35(3), 437–462.

Kellermann, K. L. (2024). Trust we lost: The impact of the Treuhand experience on political alienation in East Germany. Journal of Comparative Economics, 52(1), 54–75.

Mau, S. (2019). Lütten Klein: Leben in der ostdeutschen Transformationsgesellschaft. Suhrkamp.

Mounk, Y. (2018). The people vs. democracy. Harvard University Press.

Mudde, C. (2007). Populist radical right parties in Europe. Cambridge University Press.

Mudde, C. (2019). The far right today. Polity.

Pickel, G., & Pickel, S. (2026). The election of the AfD and the collective identity of East Germans. German Politics, 35(3), 412–436.

Rodríguez-Pose, A. (2018). The revenge of the places that don’t matter. Cambridge Journal of Regions, Economy and Society, 11(1), 189–209.

Schröder, M., Rehm, M., & Röcke, A. (2026). Supporters of Germany’s far-right AfD party are concerned about immigration rather than feeling deprived. PLOS ONE, 21(7), e0350403.

Photo: Dreamstime.

From Mass Parties to Digital Bubbles: How Young Europeans Encounter Politics

In this commentary, Filippo Palmieri examines how digital platforms are reshaping the political socialization of young Europeans. As mass parties decline, politics is increasingly encountered through personalized feeds, influencers, recommendation systems, and fragmented online publics. Palmieri argues that this transformation does not make populism inevitable, but it creates an environment in which populist appeals to immediacy, personalization, and distrust of intermediaries can travel more easily. Drawing on the concepts of “mass individualism” and “bubble democracy,” the commentary explores how digital participation can broaden political engagement while weakening durable forms of representation and accountability. The central democratic challenge, Palmieri suggests, lies in the growing gap between political expression, collective organization, and meaningful representation.

By Filippo Palmieri*

A political message on TikTok rarely arrives alone. It appears between a song, a comic sketch and a creator’s account of an ordinary day. On Instagram, a carousel explaining an election may be followed by an advertisement or a friend’s holiday photograph. For many young Europeans, this is no longer a secondary route into politics. It is where politics is first encountered.

The European Parliament’s Youth Survey 2024 gives a measure of the change. Among Europeans aged 16 to 30, 42 percent name social media as a main source of information on political and social issues. Television follows at 39 per cent (European Parliament, 2025). These figures do not prove that young people have lost interest in public affairs. They tell us something more precise: a generation is forming its political habits inside spaces built around personal profiles, recommendation systems and an endless competition for attention.

The consequences reach beyond communication. Politics learned through a feed has a different pace, different intermediaries and a different sense of proximity. This helps explain why populist language often moves easily across digital platforms. It does not mean that social media manufacture populists. The relationship is less direct, and more interesting, than that.

What the Party Used to Provide

The decline of mass parties is often measured through membership figures or electoral volatility. Those indicators matter, but they capture only part of what has disappeared. A party once offered a place where separate experiences could be translated into common claims. It trained activists, selected leaders and connected local disputes to an interpretation of society. The process was slow. It was also unequal: hierarchies were rigid, internal dissent could be suppressed, and many citizens remained outside the organizations that claimed to represent them. Yet the intermediary was visible. It had offices, rules, officials and a name.

Mauro Calise describes the new configuration as “mass individualism.” The collective actor once organized by party machines has broken into a multitude of connected individuals (Calise, 2025). The phrase is deliberately paradoxical. Users act through personal accounts, but they do so before mass audiences. They can speak and mobilize at a scale that would once have required an organization, while the content reaching each of them is increasingly personalized.

This distinction matters most for those who did not acquire political habits before the digital turn. A twenty-year-old may discover a housing protest through a short video, learn its vocabulary from a creator, share it with friends and join a demonstration organized in a group chat. Information, expression and participation take place on the same device, sometimes within a few hours. As Ohme and his colleagues observe, digital environments have brought exposure to news and political action unusually close together (Ohme et al., 2022).

That can produce real participation. Climate strikes, campaigns against gender violence and mobilizations over university costs have travelled through networks that traditional parties struggled to reach. But the same mobilization may dissolve when attention moves to another issue. A hashtag can assemble a public without building an organization able to negotiate, decide or remain accountable after the peak of visibility has passed.

There is no single European “digital generation” either. A study covering nine countries found marked class differences among young people’s conventional, community-based and online participation (Grasso & Giugni, 2022). Education, resources and political confidence still shape whose voice becomes public. Cheap access to a platform does not make political influence equally available.

Disintermediation Without the Disappearance of Intermediaries

Social media are regularly described as instruments of disintermediation. The term suggests that parties, journalists and associations have been removed from the relationship between citizens and power. Only half of that story is true. Older gatekeepers have weakened; mediation itself has not vanished. It has changed hands.

TikTok’s recommendation system decides which political clip travels beyond its original audience. Instagram gives visual advantage to claims that can be compressed into a reel or a sequence of cards. Influencers translate public controversies into the language of personal experience, while visible counts of likes and shares make some positions appear socially dominant before a user has examined them. None of these mechanisms is politically neutral, even though none resembles a party headquarters or a newspaper editorial meeting.

Damiano Palano’s notion of “bubble democracy” offers a useful description of the result. Palano argues that the public associated with earlier forms of representative democracy is fragmenting into multiple, partly self-referential audiences (Palano, 2019). A bubble is not a sealed room. Users still meet disagreement, and content moves unpredictably between networks. The deeper change concerns the distribution of attention. A controversy that feels unavoidable on one feed may be almost absent from another. Citizens do not simply reach different conclusions; they may begin from different political events.

This is why the familiar image of the echo chamber is insufficient. The problem is not only that people prefer information consistent with their beliefs. Platform publics are temporary and uneven. They gather around an election, a scandal or a war, then rearrange themselves. Public opinion begins to resemble the intermittent convergence of several streams rather than a single national conversation.

Representative politics has always involved distance. Nadia Urbinati argues that representation does not require citizens and representatives to become identical. It depends on a continuing relationship in which decisions can be judged, contested and revised (Urbinati, 2010). Social media create the impression that this distance has closed. A leader speaks from a phone, replies to followers and comments on events before the evening news. The tone is intimate. Power may remain highly concentrated.

Why Populist Narratives Travel Well

Populism fits this environment because it turns representation into a promise of direct presence. A leader speaks as the authentic voice of “the people”; whoever stands between the two can be presented as an obstacle. Parties distort. Experts complicate. Journalists hide. Procedures delay. These accusations long predate TikTok and Instagram, but platforms allow them to be repeated daily, adapted to audience reactions and attached to an individual face.

Personalization is part of the advantage. A recognizable leader circulates more easily than an organization with competing factions and a detailed programme. Speed matters too. Every event can be framed as an urgent test of whether institutions are listening. Conflict completes the pattern: the distinction between an authentic community and those allegedly frustrating its will is well suited to systems that reward reaction.

Still, there is no universal digital law favoring populists. Davidson and Enos examined more than 400 European parties between 2010 and 2020. Populist parties received more engagement than their competitors on Facebook, but the same advantage did not appear consistently on Twitter. It also varied between countries and was concentrated especially among right-wing populists (Davidson & Enos, 2025). Platform architecture matters. So do political culture, party strategy and national context.

Research from the Netherlands adds another complication. People with populist attitudes were more likely to react to political content, yet their use of social media did not consistently trap them in a populist electoral funnel (Jeroense et al., 2022). A feed is not a machine with a predetermined political output. It changes the incentives under which politics is communicated: some claims become easier to circulate, some actors become more visible, and directness acquires a persuasive value of its own.

For young citizens, this is also a question of familiarity. If politics is first experienced through personal profiles and short cycles of attention, the leader’s direct appeal may not look like a rebellion against ordinary democratic practice. It may look like ordinary democratic practice. Bargaining, party organization and institutional compromise then appear distant and evasive, even though they remain necessary whenever a demand must be converted into a collective decision.

A Different Experience of Democracy

It would be misleading to tell this story as a fall from a democratic golden age. Mass parties often demanded obedience and filtered out inconvenient voices. Digital media have allowed experiences once ignored by established organizations to enter public debate. They have made rapid mobilization across cities and borders possible. Young Europeans have used them to force climate change, racial justice, gender equality and economic insecurity onto political agendas.

What has become fragile is the link between expression and representation. A post shared hundreds of thousands of times shows intensity, not necessarily durability or representativeness. A creator can become an influential political interpreter without accepting the obligations normally attached to political leadership. A digital campaign may be remarkably effective at naming a problem and much less able to determine who can legitimately negotiate in its name.

Young Europeans have not abandoned politics. They are learning it in a public sphere whose boundaries move from one issue to the next and whose most powerful intermediaries seldom present themselves as political institutions. This does not make populism inevitable. It makes the populist promise of immediacy easier to recognize and the suspicion of mediation easier to understand.

The relevant question, then, is not whether young people are democratic enough. It is what democracy comes to mean when it is first encountered as a stream of personalized messages rather than as membership in a collective organization. The passage from mass parties to digital bubbles is therefore more than a shift in political communication. It is a change in the everyday experience through which representative politics becomes intelligible.


 

(*) Filippo Palmieri holds a master’s degree in International and Diplomatic Sciences, specializing in Politics and International Security, from the University of Bologna. His research focuses on democratic theory, populism, political representation, the transformation of political parties and the effects of digital communication on contemporary democracy. His master’s thesis examined the changing analytical value of the concept of populism in twenty-first-century democracies. He has presented research on democracy, populism and illiberalism at academic events hosted by the Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, the Italian Political Science Association and Venice International University. Email: filippo.palmieri3@studio.unibo.it


 

References

Calise, M. (2025). Opinione pubblica e individualismo di massa. Il Mulino, 74(4). https://doi.org/10.1402/118619

Davidson, T. R. & Enos, J. (2025). “Engaging populism? The popularity of European populist political parties on Facebook and Twitter, 2010–2020.” Political Communication, 42(1), 171–199. https://doi.org/10.1080/10584609.2024.2369118

European Parliament. (2025). Youth survey 2024. Eurobarometer. https://europa.eu/eurobarometer/surveys/detail/3392

Grasso, M. & Giugni, M. (2022). “Intra-generational inequalities in young people’s political participation in Europe: The impact of social class on youth political engagement.” Politics, 42(1), 13–38. https://doi.org/10.1177/02633957211031742

Jeroense, T.; Luimers, J.; Jacobs, K. & Spierings, N. (2022). “Political social media use and its linkage to populist and postmaterialist attitudes and vote intention in the Netherlands.” European Political Science, 21(2), 193–215. https://doi.org/10.1057/s41304-020-00306-6

Ohme, J.; Andersen, K.; Albæk, E. & de Vreese, C. H. (2022). “Anything goes? Youth, news, and democratic engagement in the roaring 2020s.” The International Journal of Press/Politics, 27(3), 557–568. https://doi.org/10.1177/19401612221093008

Palano, D. (2019). La democrazia alla fine del “pubblico”: Sfiducia, frammentazione, polarizzazione: verso una “bubble democracy”? Governare la paura, 35–92.

Urbinati, N. (2010). La democrazia non ha un altrove. Il Mulino, 59(2), 225–241. https://doi.org/10.1402/31572

NayibBukele

The Bukele Model: Populist Power, Judicial Erosion, and Authoritarian Consolidation in El Salvador

In this commentary, Dr. Lilliam Arrieta examines how Nayib Bukele’s rise in El Salvador illustrates the speed with which elected populist leadership can evolve into authoritarian consolidation. Focusing on the erosion of judicial independence, she traces how the removal of Supreme Court justices, forced judicial retirements, and the weakening of constitutional safeguards have concentrated power in the executive. Dr. Arrieta situates these developments within a broader Latin American pattern in which populist leaders undermine courts, militarize public security, and weaken checks and balances in the name of popular sovereignty and order. While Bukele’s security policies have attracted “international admiration,” the article highlights their deeper institutional costs for fundamental rights, judicial protection, democratic accountability, and the long-term resilience of constitutional democracy.

By Lilliam Arrieta*

El Salvador is a clear example of how quickly and extensively populist rulers can consolidate power and move towards authoritarianism once democratically elected. In the last two decades, across Latin America, several populist presidents gained office through elections but rapidly took steps to undermine democracy, such as Hugo Chávez in Venezuela, Daniel Ortega in Nicaragua, or Evo Morales in Bolivia. These types of leaders often present themselves as messianic figures—outsiders and saviors—claiming to be the only solution to the problems created by traditional political actors: corruption, nepotism, insecurity, inflation, to name a few, and often the more pressing issues for a concrete population. Aside from being or claiming to be outsiders, a second common trait that these strong individual politicians share is their communication skills. They do not merely communicate with the public; they claim to speak for the people, asserting that they embody the largely forgotten majorities themselves (Temelkuran, 2019). Finally, a third distinctive trait is the disregard for traditional checks and balances, especially for judicial review of the Executive’s policies.

El Salvador’s president, Nayib Bukele embodies these three elements. One of the most pressing examples is the quick measures taken after winning the majority of seats in congress during the 2021 elections. Having obtained a large majority of congressional seats (Martinez, 2021), Bukele’s party quickly enacted laws that undermined democracy and dismissed all opposition as his party claimed to do so in the name of “the people.” During the inaugural session of that legislature, Nueva Ideas (New Ideas) party members voted to remove five justices of the Supreme Court without due process of law or any attempt to conduct a proper impeachment procedure (Arauz, 2021). This unconstitutional removal gave Bukele control over the three branches of government. In the following 2024 congressional elections, after having passed legislation to reduce congressional seats from 84 to 60, the ruling party won 57 of them, consolidating total control over the three branches of Government. 

This quick overview of the Salvadoran experience shows that Bukele seems to have followed the same patterns as other Latin American populist leaders. Experiences from Bolivia, Nicaragua, and Venezuela had already demonstrated that, to consolidate and maintain power, populist leaders seek control over two main institutions. In no particular order, first, controlling the Armed Forces—and the Police—allows presidents to suppress dissent and instill fear among the population (Bernal, 2021; Infodefensa, 2021; EFE, 2021). Second, reducing the autonomy of the Judiciary.

Authoritarian leaders often seek to dominate the courts, especially the Supreme Court, to bypass legal constraints on their power (Foa, 2021). Checks and balances are considered obstacles, making the dismantling of judicial independence a priority; for example, Hugo Chávez in Venezuela in 2008, Daniel Ortega in Nicaragua in 2010, and Evo Morales in Bolivia in 2017 were able to extend their time in office beyond the constitutional limit thanks to Supreme Court rulings (Sala de lo Constitucional del Tribunal Supremo de Justicia, 2008; Sala de lo Constitucional, sentencia No.06 Corte Suprema de Justicia, Managua, 2010; Sala Plena del Tribunal Constitucional Plurinacional de Bolivia, 2017). However, before obtaining control of the judiciary, authoritarian populists often target this branch and accuse it of corruption or ineptitude to prevent unelected public officers from obstructing the Executive’s policies.

The undermining of judicial independence in El Salvador occurred especially through two actions taken as soon as the president gained congressional majority. First, on May 1 of 2021, Nuevas Ideas’ representatives voted to remove five Supreme Court justices without due process of law (Arauz, 2021). Their terms were not set to expire until 2027, but they were arbitrarily removed because of a few previous rulings that were averse to some presidential measures (DW, 2020). It was a power-grab move that violated the Constitution and existing legislation. The ruling party justified it by claiming to have acted on the people’s behalf and accordingly to their will. That same day, congress appointed five new justices whose rulings have since consistently favored the President (BBC, 2021). One of those rulings was the landmark decision that removed a corner stone of Salvadoran constitutional democracy which for more than 35 years prevented presidents from seeking reelection creating a way for Bukele to seek his second term. 

Second, early retirement and transfers of career judges. On August 3, 2021, Congress passed a law forcing over 150 judges into early retirement, violating article 182 of the Salvadoran Constitution, which grants the Supreme Court the exclusive authority to appoint and discipline members of the Judiciary. Following this legislation, the Supreme Court appointed a group of new judges (Cornejo, 2021), many of whom have already reversed rulings against political opponents of the President. A few independent judges that were not removed through the early retirement act resigned due to pressures or were transferred to less influential positions (Oliva, 2022; Calderón, 2021). 

An assessment by the Latinobarómetro Corporation in 2021 noted that “Bukele has shown that democracy exists only as long as it serves his needs. When it fails to do so, he imposes his will by force. El Salvador is on the verge of becoming a populist autocracy, with significant public support, reminiscent of the early days of Hugo Chávez” (Latinobarómetro Corporation, 2021). The resulting control over the three branches of government has not only undermined democracy or judicial independence in an abstract or institutional manner, but it has also affected citizens’ rights in very concrete ways, as shown by the overwhelming number of people detained under the state of exception, some for over three years, without having had their day in court.

Almost 100,000 people have been detained in El Salvador during a four-year long state of exception, but practically no one has been sentenced, and according to human rights organizations, many of these arrests can be considered arbitrary detentions under international standards (WOLA, 2024). The Constitutional Chamber has failed to rule on over 3,000 habeas corpus petitions it has received since the declaration of the state of exception in March 2022 (El Salvador.com, 2024), effectively neglecting the one judicial protection citizens have against arbitrary detentions in El Salvador (DPLF, 2024). 

In May 2025, two prominent lawyers, Ruth López and Enrique Anaya Barraza,—widely recognized for their outspoken criticism of government corruption, human rights violations, and systemic abuses—were detained on charges of embezzlement and money laundering. These charges appear to have been used as a means of silencing dissent and creating a climate of intimidation among other critics and independent voices. The lack of judicial independence has had a profoundly adverse impact on their situation (EDH, 2025). Bail was denied, and both lawyers were remanded in custody pending trial. Their legal representatives have reported serious obstacles to maintaining regular and confidential communication with them. At present, no effective judicial review exists to challenge these apparently politically motivated arrests, as no judge has thus far been willing to issue rulings contrary to what are widely understood to be measures directed by the President or the Executive Branch.

Many countries today appear eager to replicate President Nayib Bukele’s approach to reducing crime and violence, often citing El Salvador’s dramatic decline in homicide rates as evidence of the effectiveness of his policies. What is less frequently acknowledged, however, is the institutional and normative cost underlying these outcomes: the dismantling of checks and balances, the erosion of judicial independence, the weakening of safeguards against human rights violations, and the expansion of a heavily militarized security apparatus. The risks of these developments have been repeatedly illustrated in recent Latin American history.

Importantly, such concentrations of authoritarian power and sustained violations of fundamental rights cannot occur without the curtailment of judicial autonomy, as independent courts constitute a central mechanism for constraining executive authority and enforcing constitutional limits. At the same time, the broader societal significance of judicial independence often remains difficult to communicate to the public, owing to a range of historical, institutional, and sociopolitical factors that lie beyond the scope of this commentary but help explain the relative ease with which judicial erosion can proceed.

These are not abstract concerns; they are lived realities in El Salvador. While the model may appear effective in the short term, its long-term implications for freedom, independent justice, and democratic governance are profound and reverting its impact may take a long time and more than one generation


 

(*) Dr. Lilliam Arrieta is a Salvadoran lawyer and law professor who has dedicated most of her professional career to teaching and researching topics related to the rule of law and, most recently, gender studies. Dr. Arrieta holds a PhD in Law.


 

References

Agencia EFE. (2021). “Miles de salvadoreños marchan contra Bukele cuando se acerca a su medio mandato.” EFE.10.18.2021. https://www.efe.com/efe/america/sociedad/miles-de-salvadorenos-marchan- contra-bukele-cuando-se-acerca-a-su-medio-mandato/20000013-4654153

Arauz, S. y otros (2021). “Bukele usa a la nueva Asamblea para tomar control de la Sala de lo Constitucional y la Fiscalía.” El Faro, 05.02.2021. https://elfaro.net/es/202105/el_salvador/25451/Bukele-usa-a-la-nueva-Asamblea-para-tomar-control-de-la-Sala-de-lo-Constitucional-y-la-Fiscal%C3%ADa.htm

BBC (2021). “El Salvador: la nueva Asamblea Legislativa, afín a Bukele, destituye a los jueces del Constitucional y al fiscal general.” 05.02.2021. https://www.bbc.com/mundo/noticias-america-latina-56953799

Bernal, D. y otros (2021) “El Ejército, el que más crece en presupuesto.” La Prensa Gráfica. 10.02.2021, https://www.laprensagrafica.com/elsalvador/El-Ejercito-el-que-mas-crece-en-presupuesto-20211001-0109.html

Calderón, B. (2021). “Juez Juan Antonio Durán denuncia acoso de la Policía afuera de su casa: ‘Y dice que no es dictadura. No nos detendrán’.” LPG. 19.09.2021. https://www.laprensagrafica.com/elsalvador/Juez-Juan-Antonio-Duran-denuncia-acoso-de-la-Policia-afuera-de-su-casa-Y-dice-que-no-es-dictadura.-No-nos-detendran-20210919-0061.html

Cornejo, I. (2021). “Magistrados sustitutos revierten arresto domiciliar para Ernesto Muyshondt.” El Mundo. 10.02.2021. https://diario.elmundo.sv/magistrados-sustitutos-revierten-arresto-domiciliar-para-ernesto-muyshondt/

DPLF. (2024). “Desprotección judicial: la respuesta de la Sala de lo Constitucional durante el régimen de excepción en El Salvador.” June 2024. https://back.dplf.org/es/resources/desproteccion-judicial-la-respuesta-de-la-sala-de-lo-constitucional-durante-el-regimen-d-1?_gl=1*d714ok*_ga*MjkzNTkyOTIyLjE3MzQxMTAyODQ.*_ga_5EQV0E6PSH*MTc0MzA5NDM1Ny41LjEuMTc0MzA5NDM5Ni4wLjAuMA

DW. (2020). “Supremo salvadoreño anula decreto de Bukele que rige cuarentena por COVID-19.” 09/06/2020. https://www.dw.com/es/supremo-salvadore%C3%B1o-anula-decreto-de-bukele-que-rige-cuarentena-por-covid-19/a-53739072

EDH. (2025). “Alargan detención de abogados Ruth López y Enrique Anaya.” El Diario de Hoy. 12.12.2025. https://www.eldiariodehoy.com/opinion/alargan-detencion-de-abogados-ruth-lopez-y-enrique-anaya/51961/2025/

El Salvador.com. (2024). “MOVIR y Tutela Legal piden a Corte Suprema agilizar respuestas de habeas corpus.” 13.08.2024. https://www.elsalvador.com/noticias/nacional/regimen-de-excepcion-tutela-legal-movir-piden-respuestas-corte/1161744/2024/

Foa, R. “Why Strongmen Win in Weak States.” Journal of Democracy. Vol. 32, no. 1, Jan. 2021, pp. 52-65. https://www.journalofdemocracy.org/articles/why-strongmen-win-in-weak-states/

Latinobarómetro Corporation, Informe 2021: Adiós a Macondo, Santiago, Chile, October 2021, p. 23 (Bukele ha demostrado que la democracia llega hasta donde le funciona para lo que él necesita. Y cuándo esta no hace lo que el necesita, se impone por la fuerza. El Salvador es un candidato serio a transformarse en una autocracia populista, con altos niveles de apoyo del pueblo. Algo parecido a las características iniciales de Hugo Chávez), at https://www.latinobarometro.org/lat.jsp

Martinez, L. (2021). ”¿Quiénes son los diputados de la nueva Asamblea Legislativa de El Salvador?” El Salvador.com, 05.05.2021, at https://www.elsalvador.com/noticias/nacional/asamblea-legislativa/834750/2021/

Oliva, X. (2022). “Denuncian hostigamiento e intimidación contra juez que llevó caso de masacre de El Mozote.” GatoEncerrado. 18.04.2022. https://gatoencerrado.news/2022/04/18/denuncian-hostigamiento-e-intimidacion-contra-juez-que-llevo- caso-de-masacre-de-el-mozote/

Redacción de Infodefensa. “El Salvador duplicará sus efectivos militares de 20.000 a 40.000 en cinco años.” 07.05.2021. https://www.infodefensa.com/texto-diario/mostrar/3110862/salvador-duplicara-efectivos-militares-20000-40000-cinco-anos

Temelkuran, E. (2019). Como perder un país, Anagrama, Barcelona, capítulo 2: Trastoca la lógica y atenta contra el lenguaje, pp. 52.

Sala de lo Constitucional del Tribunal Supremo de Justicia de la República Bolivariana de Venezuela, December 11, 2008, reference 08-1610.  https://supremainjusticia.org/test/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/N%C2%B0-20-TSJ-aval%C3%B3-%E2%80%9Csegundo%E2%80%9D-referendo-sobre-la-reelecci%C3%B3n-indefinida-de-Ch%C3%A1vez.pdf

Sala de lo Constitucional, sentencia No.06 Corte Suprema de Justicia, Managua, 09.30.2010. https://www.poderjudicial.gob.ni/pjupload/rp/pdf/Sentencia_N%C3%BAmero_6_30_Sep_2010_Reelecci %C3%B3n.pdf

Sala Plena del Tribunal Constitucional Plurinacional de Bolivia, SENTENCIA CONSTITUCIONAL PLURINACIONAL 0084/2017, Sucre, 28 de noviembre de 2017, at https://edwinfigueroag.files.wordpress.com/2017/12/sentencia-0084-2017-tcp-bolivia-reeleccion-evo- morales.pdf

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Ceuta, the Spanish city in North Africa.

Ceuta Could Be the Last Frontier of the Liberal-Multicultural Age

In this commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias examines the migration crisis in Ceuta as a “total crisis” encompassing humanitarian obligations, political legitimacy, social cohesion, and the future of Europe’s liberal-multicultural order. Rejecting both an expansive humanitarianism that neglects the pressures experienced by receiving communities and far-right narratives that reduce migrants to a homogeneous civilizational threat, Dr. Dias argues for an approach combining compassion with effective migration governance. Drawing on research into migration, local exposure, and multicultural citizenship, he contends that diversity requires a shared civic framework grounded in democratic law, equality, rights, and obligations. For Dr. Dias, Europe’s challenge is therefore not to choose between humanitarian protection and border control, but to reconcile protection, effective borders, integration, and social stability if liberal multiculturalism is to remain politically sustainable.

By João Ferreira Dias

The situation in Ceuta is what I would call a “total crisis”: social, political, and humanitarian at the same time. Looking at it in those terms is an attempt to escape the constraints of affective polarization (Iyengar et al., 2019), which increasingly turns political analysis into a moral exercise in deciding who deserves our sympathy.

Two dominant perspectives usually emerge in European debates on migration. One emphasizes humanitarian duties and often expands them into an almost unlimited moral obligation to receive those who reach European borders. The other responds through cultural anxiety, demographic fear and, at its extreme, the rhetoric of a “Great Replacement.” Both perspectives capture something real. Neither sees the whole picture.

Europe has unquestionable obligations towards refugees and asylum seekers. The right to seek asylum and the principle of non-refoulement are central elements of the international and European legal order. A liberal Europe cannot abandon those principles simply because applying them has become politically difficult. But neither international law nor European law establishes an unlimited right for every migrant to enter and remain permanently in Europe. 

That distinction matters. States have duties towards those entitled to international protection. But governments also have duties towards the societies they govern. Migration policy cannot ignore reception capacity, housing, public services, integration, security and social stability. Humanitarianism does not operate outside politics. This is where part of the progressive discourse on migration becomes problematic. Its moral vocabulary is universal, while the social consequences of migration are unevenly distributed.

It is relatively easy to demand empathy from the inhabitants of border communities when one does not share their streets, their schools, their public services or their fears. The paradox is striking: those who correctly demand empathy towards migrants sometimes display surprisingly little empathy towards the communities expected to absorb the immediate consequences of large migratory movements.

Ceuta makes that contradiction difficult to ignore. Research also suggests that local exposure matters. Sudden demographic change can generate stronger opposition to immigration when it becomes politically salient (Hopkins, 2010). Hangartner et al. (2019), studying Greek islands exposed to the refugee crisis, found that direct exposure to large refugee arrivals produced more restrictive attitudes towards refugees, immigrants and Muslim minorities. 

This does not mean that every fear expressed by local populations is justified. But it means that fear cannot simply be dismissed as ignorance or xenophobia. For the inhabitants of Ceuta, migration is not an abstract seminar on cosmopolitan ethics. It is the sudden presence of thousands of people in a geographically confined territory. It means pressure on public spaces and services, deteriorating sanitary conditions, disruption of everyday life and, inevitably, perceptions of insecurity. Some of those perceptions may be exaggerated. Others may not. But democratic politics cannot simply tell citizens that their fears are morally illegitimate.

At the same time, the opposite camp commits an equally serious mistake. Migrants are not a homogeneous civilizational bloc. Among those arriving in Europe are women escaping oppressive social environments, political dissidents, religious minorities, educated young people looking for opportunities, families seeking security and people whose values may be substantially closer to European liberalism than those of the societies they have left behind. Reducing all migrants to a demographic or cultural threat is therefore both empirically crude and morally indefensible. The crisis has two human faces: those who arrive and those who receive them. Any serious migration policy must be capable of seeing both.

Ceuta also reveals a deeper European problem: the crisis of what might be called liberal multiculturalism. The central intuition of liberal multiculturalism was both powerful and legitimate: people should not be required to erase their cultural, religious or linguistic identity in order to become equal citizens. Kymlicka’s defense of multicultural citizenship remains one of the strongest formulations of this position. But there is a difference between accepting diversity and assuming that social cohesion emerges automatically from it. It does not. A society cannot indefinitely become a patchwork of parallel cultural, ethnic and religious communities without also developing institutions capable of producing a common civic ground. 

This does not mean assimilation. It means integration. Language matters. Constitutional principles matter. Equality between men and women matters. Religious freedom matters, including the freedom to abandon religion. Acceptance of democratic law matters. A shared understanding that citizenship involves both rights and obligations matters. European states themselves have increasingly recognized this. The gradual retreat from some versions of multiculturalism and the rise of civic integration policies documented by Joppke (2004, 2007) reflect precisely this concern.

Multiculturalism without integration creates islands. Diversity without a shared civic framework can produce coexistence without community. This is why migration control should not be understood as the opposite of liberal multiculturalism. It may actually be one of its conditions of survival. 

Europe needs effective borders precisely because migration will continue. It needs credible asylum procedures because humanitarian protection remains part of the European liberal order. It must distinguish between those who have legitimate claims to international protection and those who do not. It must be capable of receiving and integrating those who are entitled to remain. And it must also be capable of repatriating, humanely and legally, those who have no right to stay. Otherwise, the distinction between legal and illegal migration becomes politically meaningless. 

The way Spain responds to Ceuta therefore matters beyond Ceuta. If European governments are unable simultaneously to protect refugees, control borders, manage migration and sustain social integration, voters will increasingly conclude that the entire liberal-multicultural model has failed. That conclusion would have profound political consequences. A Europe that abandons humanitarian protection abandons part of its liberal identity. But a Europe that loses control over migration, fails to integrate newcomers and refuses to acknowledge the fears of receiving communities may eventually create the political conditions for the rejection of liberalism itself. 

The real choice is therefore not between compassion and control. Europe needs both. Without compassion, it ceases to be liberal. Without control and integration, it may cease to be politically capable of remaining liberal.


 

References

Hangartner, D.; Dinas, E.; Marbach, M.; Matakos, K. & Xefteris, D. (2019). “Does exposure to the refugee crisis make natives more hostile?” American Political Science Review, 113(2), 442–455.

Hopkins, D. J. (2010). “Politicized places: Explaining where and when immigrants provoke local opposition.” American Political Science Review, 104(1), 40–60.

Iyengar, S.; Lelkes, Y.; Levendusky, M.; Malhotra, N. & Westwood, S. J. (2019). “The origins and consequences of affective polarization in the United States.” Annual Review of Political Science, 22, 129–146.

Joppke, C. (2004). “The retreat of multiculturalism in the liberal state: Theory and policy.” The British Journal of Sociology, 55(2), 237–257.

Kymlicka, W. (1995). Multicultural citizenship: A liberal theory of minority rights. Oxford University Press.