Professor Lucio Rennó.

Prof. Rennó: Brazil Faces Unusual Democratic Backsliding Through Legislative Authoritarianism

As Brazil approaches its October 25 presidential runoff, Professor Lucio Rennó of the University of Brasília warns of an unusual trajectory of democratic backsliding driven primarily by Congress rather than the presidency. In this ECPS interview, Professor Rennó examines the institutionalization of Bolsonarismo, the consolidation of political polarization, and the persistence of authoritarian enclaves inherited from military rule. Drawing parallels with what scholars call legislative authoritarianism, he cautions that congressional power-grabbing could weaken the Supreme Court and institutions of horizontal accountability. As Professor Rennó observes, “We can identify elements of that same logic in Brazil.” Yet he also emphasizes democratic resilience, highlighting the role of civil society, judicial institutions, and political opposition in resisting institutional erosion and preserving constitutional democracy. 

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As Brazil approaches the decisive October 25 presidential runoff, the country’s political trajectory raises questions extending far beyond the contest between President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro. In the October 4 first round, Flávio Bolsonaro secured 47.03 percent of the vote against Lula’s 45.16 percent, while the broader Bolsonarist camp strengthened its congressional presence. ForProfessor Lucio Rennó, Professor at the Political Science Institute of the University of Brasília, these developments illuminate not only the institutionalization of Bolsonarismo but also an unusual transformation in the mechanisms of Brazilian democratic backsliding.

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Rennó, whose research examines populism, authoritarian attitudes, electoral realignment, and democratic resilience, argues that Brazil is witnessing a distinctive concentration of political power. Unlike conventional patterns of democratic erosion, where executives progressively dismantle constitutional constraints, the Brazilian process is increasingly driven by the legislature. As he observes, “What we’re witnessing in Brazil today is a rather unusual process of democratic backsliding, in which power-grabbing and the centralization of power are occurring primarily within Congress rather than the executive branch.”

Drawing on The Crisis of Democracy in Brazil, co-authored with Leonardo Avritzer, Professor Rennó situates this development within the country’s enduring institutional vulnerabilities, particularly the “authoritarian enclaves” inherited from military rule. He identifies a Congress dominated by a pragmatic, clientelistic coalition with conservative policy orientations as a potential vehicle for weakening constitutional checks. Comparing this trajectory with developments in Peru, where scholars have identified legislative authoritarianism, Professor Rennó warns: “We can identify elements of that same logic in Brazil.”

The implications extend directly to judicial independence and horizontal accountability. Professor Rennó anticipates congressional efforts to restrict the Supreme Court’s authority and potentially weaken institutions such as the Public Prosecutor’s Office, the Federal Police, and the Tribunal de Contas. Under a Flávio Bolsonaro presidency, he cautions, executive-legislative alignment could accelerate these developments, weakening oversight institutions “primarily to the benefit of Congress rather than the presidency.”

Yet Professor Rennó’s analysis also emphasizes the resilience of Brazilian democracy. He underscores the constitutional role of the Supreme Court, the mobilizing capacity of civil society, and the potential resistance of the Workers’ Party and congressional opposition.

Ultimately, the interview situates these institutional struggles within a broader political realignment: the consolidation of Bolsonarismo and Petismo as competing national identities. As Professor Rennó explains, Brazil is witnessing “the construction of political identities that transcend politics and increasingly affect our daily lives.” The October runoff therefore represents not merely a presidential contest but a critical moment in the continuing struggle over institutional power, democratic accountability, and Brazil’s political future.

Here is our interview with Professor Lucio Rennó, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Bolsonarismo’s Strength Now Extends Beyond Jair Bolsonaro Himself

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

Professor Rennó, welcome, and thank you for joining us. Flávio Bolsonaro finished ahead of Lula with 47 percent, and the broader Bolsonarist camp also advanced in Congress in the October 4 elections. Does this result confirm your earlier argument that Bolsonarismo has become a durable political alignment rather than a phenomenon dependent on Jair Bolsonaro personally?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Yes, this election is a very important historical event in the sense that it consolidates Bolsonarismo’s strength beyond Jair Bolsonaro himself. What we have been witnessing in Brazil since 2022 is the institutionalization of Bolsonarismo. What was basically a charismatic, leadership-driven alignment with Bolsonaro, based on policy positions on certain issues, has become institutionalized within the framework of a political party, Brazil’s Liberal Party (PL).

The party performed very well in the 2024 municipal elections and has since nationalized the narrative of Bolsonarismo, consolidated it across different regions of the country, and established an organizational structure for the movement that was absent during Bolsonaro’s term in office following his victory in the 2018 elections.

He actually remained without a party until almost the end of his mandate, joining the PL only when he was preparing to run in 2022. Since then, what we have witnessed is this interesting process of an individual leadership becoming institutionalized within the framework of a political party, giving its political agenda much greater reach and scope.

Flávio Bolsonaro and the Continuity of the Bolsonarist Coalition

You have described Bolsonarismo as a multidimensional ideological alignment combining cultural conservatism, punitive politics, economic liberalism, and anti-PT sentiment. Does Flávio Bolsonaro’s performance suggest that this coalition has now survived a successful leadership succession?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Yes, I would say that Flávio Bolsonaro now demonstrates that the movement itself and its multidimensional agenda resonate strongly with significant portions of the Brazilian electorate. Bolsonarismo would not be what it is if it did not reflect the mass attitudes, grievances, and cleavages that characterize Brazilian society today.

A significant portion of the electorate embraces this set of policy positions, if not yet concrete policy proposals, in line with what you have highlighted in your question. These positions are becoming, as I have said, part of the PL’s political platform. So, these issues are at the heart of Bolsonarismo’s continuity beyond Jair Bolsonaro.

Now, obviously, we have to wait for the results of the second round of the election, which is coming up in about 10 days, to see, first, whether Flávio will succeed in winning the election and, if he does, what that would mean for Jair Bolsonaro himself, who will probably be freed and pardoned following his conviction for participation in a coup d’état in Brazil. We also need to understand what Jair Bolsonaro’s return to the Brazilian political scene would mean for Flávio Bolsonaro’s government.

That remains a mystery. We still need to determine whether we are actually witnessing Bolsonarismo beyond Jair Bolsonaro or, potentially, the return of Jair Bolsonaro to the center of Brazil’s political agenda and the far right.

From Charismatic Leadership to Institutionalized Ideological Alignment

Flávio Bolsonaro.
Senator Flávio Bolsonaro during a pro-amnesty demonstration in support of former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo | Dreamstime.

Your research identified a “Bolsonaro effect,” whereby voters did not merely select a candidate matching their prior beliefs but moved ideologically toward Bolsonaro during the campaign. Are we seeing a similar process around Flávio Bolsonaro, or is he mainly inheriting an already consolidated ideological constituency?

Professor Lucio Rennó: That ideological shift was largely the result of Jair Bolsonaro’s leadership. What we’re seeing now is the consolidation of this movement around these policy issues, as well as the affective elements of politics that initially helped construct a significant social movement around Bolsonaro, or even a political and electoral alignment centered on him.

This alignment is now evolving into a more consolidated and institutionalized set of policy proposals that, given the results of the legislative elections and the configuration of Congress over the next four years, are very likely to bring significant policy changes in Brazil, as well as changes to institutional design, particularly regarding the Supreme Court.

So, what we’re witnessing is a significant process of consolidation and institutionalization, whereby what initially resembled a social movement or a political alignment built around a charismatic leader is becoming more deeply ingrained in the country’s political framework, strengthening the presidential far right.

Bolsonarismo Is Becoming Hegemonic on the Right

Does the first-round result represent the normalization of the Brazilian far right, in the sense that Bolsonarismo is no longer an insurgent challenge to the party system but one of its principal organizing poles?

Professor Lucio Rennó: I agree with that. Bolsonarismo is becoming hegemonic on the right. Just as the PT, the Workers’ Party, is hegemonic on the left in Brazil, the PL and Bolsonarismo are moving toward a similarly hegemonic position on the right. Since 2018, we haven’t seen any possibility of a resurgence of the moderate right in Brazil.

So, basically, there’s no third way in the country beyond Petismo and Bolsonarismo, beyond the PT and the PL. This election demonstrates that very clearly, as the results were dominated by strong polarization between Bolsonarismo and Petismo. All the other candidates who attempted to enter this space, especially on the right, failed, receiving very little support at the ballot box. So, the votes are concentrated in Bolsonarismo. This represents a hegemonic shift on the right through the consolidation and institutionalization of partizan Bolsonarismo.

The Supreme Court Was the Big Loser in This Electoral Process

Your work argues that Bolsonarismo combines issue-based conservatism with anti-democratic attitudes. How should we interpret the fact that this political identity remains electorally powerful after Jair Bolsonaro’s conviction and the January 8 crisis?

Professor Lucio Rennó: What we have seen among Bolsonarista supporters is essentially a denial of Bolsonaro’s guilt. We have conducted research using surveys and public opinion polls that clearly show that core Bolsonaristas reject the idea that Bolsonaro is guilty. Instead, they see him as a victim of a witch hunt. The narrative that Bolsonaro is being persecuted, or that the system, whatever that means, is unjustly trying to damage his image, has become widely accepted among his core supporters. He has therefore remained politically significant because his followers have embraced the narrative that he is a victim of persecution for confronting the system.

Consequently, the Supreme Court became Bolsonaro’s principal enemy. After Bolsonaro won the presidency in 2018 and took office in 2019, he shifted his focus. This is important for understanding the construction of the populist narrative around Bolsonaro, particularly the “us against them” idea that drives populist rhetoric. The Supreme Court became the enemy.

What this election demonstrated, especially in the legislative arena and particularly in the Senate, is that Bolsonarismo defeated the Supreme Court electorally. Oddly enough, the Supreme Court was the big loser in this electoral process in Brazil. The Senate elections were framed around the narrative that the Supreme Court was corrupt and had unjustly tried to impute guilt to Bolsonaro, who, according to this narrative, was innocent of all accusations. This narrative prevailed among Bolsonaristas and prevented any alternative leadership from emerging.

It is particularly interesting to see how Bolsonarismo was able to consolidate around Flávio Bolsonaro rather than an alternative leader, such as the governor of São Paulo, Tarcísio de Freitas. There was competition over who would become the next Bolsonarista leader, and it is remarkable that Flávio Bolsonaro prevailed despite the support Tarcísio received from Brazil’s financial sector and the major businesses and conglomerates of São Paulo. Flávio was ultimately successful because the Bolsonaro name remains so powerful in Brazilian politics today.

So, I would say that the election also confirmed the electoral strength of the Bolsonarista narrative. By positioning the Supreme Court as an enemy, this narrative significantly facilitated the electoral victories of several Senate candidates, including Michelle Bolsonaro, Jair Bolsonaro’s wife, who was elected senator for Brazil’s Federal District.

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

Brazil Is Divided Along Demographic, Socioeconomic, and Geographical Lines

Lulism remains strongest among lower-income voters, social-policy beneficiaries, Catholics, women, and the Northeast, while Bolsonarism performs strongly among evangelicals, wealthier voters, and parts of the South and Southeast. Is the runoff becoming a contest between two increasingly consolidated social blocs rather than merely two candidates?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Yes, I agree. There is an increasing perception that ideological and policy positions, as well as affective and emotional attachments to Bolsonarismo on the one hand and Petismo on the other, are now dividing the nation along social lines.

What we have today is a country divided along demographic, socioeconomic, and geographical lines. If we look at religion, the data have shown that it is a very important factor behind Bolsonarismo, both directly and indirectly. Evangelicals are more likely to vote for and support Bolsonaro. Religion also plays an indirect role in shaping social attitudes that align with Bolsonaro’s positions, particularly on gender politics and LGBTQI+ issues. There is considerable convergence between religious views and these policy positions among Bolsonaro supporters.

We also see divisions along socioeconomic and demographic lines: wealthier white men are more likely to support Bolsonaro and Bolsonarismo than Black Brazilians and poorer citizens, who are less likely to support the movement.

When we examine the geographical distribution of these populations, the northeastern region of Brazil is much more strongly associated with Lula and the Workers’ Party, while the South and Center-West are much more closely aligned with Bolsonarismo.

So, we see a country divided not only territorially but also along social lines. This adds another layer to the consolidation of Bolsonarismo, rooted in belonging to different social groups.

Brazil Is Now Facing a Highly Conservative Congress

Your research on the Bolsonaro voter found that cultural backlash, law-and-order preferences, economic liberalism, and rejection of redistributive policies all mattered alongside anti-PT sentiment. Which of these dimensions now appears most important to Flávio Bolsonaro’s coalition?

Professor Lucio Rennó: When we look at the convergence between presidential and congressional elections, as well as the population’s issue-based or cognitive alignment with Bolsonarismo, particularly regarding political and policy positions, it becomes clear that we are now facing a highly conservative Congress.

When we examine Bolsonarismo, or the Bolsonaro coalition, if we can call it that, a significant component is ideologically oriented and strongly embraces this policy platform, which we should understand in a broad sense. It is not always defined in terms of specific policy proposals. In some cases, it is, but in others, it reflects a more general political orientation.

What we see ahead is a very conservative Congress, particularly on public security issues. Penal punitivism is going to be at the top of Congress’s agenda during its next mandate because of the conservative turn we have witnessed in the legislative elections, even more so if Flávio Bolsonaro is elected president.

We should therefore expect significant changes in this area, along with the resurgence of anti-democratic beliefs and attitudes concerning the pardoning of Jair Bolsonaro for the crimes of which he was convicted, as well as the pardoning of those who participated in the invasion of the buildings at Three Powers Square in Brasília on January 8.

There will also be a significant attempt to weaken the Supreme Court institutionally, which would affect the balance of powers in Brazil and, consequently, the very essence of horizontal accountability and democracy.

With the support of Congress, these different dimensions of Bolsonarismo are now much more likely to translate into concrete policies and institutional changes than they were during Jair Bolsonaro’s term in office.

Penal Punitivism and the Politics of Public Security

Crime and insecurity have been central to this election, and Flávio Bolsonaro has emphasized punitive policies. Does the continued salience of law-and-order politics show that punitive conservatism remains one of Bolsonarismo’s most durable ideological foundations?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Absolutely. I completely agree with that. This is one of the key issues in this election. While the rejection of the Supreme Court was very important in the legislative elections, public security issues and how to address them remain central to the Bolsonarista agenda. I would also add a certain disappointment with the performance of the economy as another important issue, but we can discuss that later.

Let’s focus on the issue of penal punitivism that you mentioned. Flávio Bolsonaro’s campaign narrative and rhetoric have emphasized a very harsh approach to crime, presenting increased punishment as a solution to criminality in Brazil. As we say in Brazil, “a good criminal is a dead criminal.” This is a claim with which a significant portion of the population agrees, and it is central to Flávio Bolsonaro’s position on public security policy.

It’s a very violent position, centered on combating crime and imposing harsh punishment on criminals, with very little discussion about how to address the financing of crime or human rights. These issues have become much more closely associated with the Workers’ Party’s position, or Lula da Silva’s position, on crime. But for most of the population, penal punitivist rhetoric is much more enticing and resonates more closely with their daily lives than the alternative. That’s why Flávio Bolsonaro has centered so much of his campaign narrative on this particular issue.

The Brazilian Population Is No Longer Satisfied with Its Living Condition

Photo: Shutterstock.

By contrast, Lula has again mobilized around Bolsa Família, income protection, and social inclusion. Does the runoff therefore revive the older cleavage between Lulist redistribution and Bolsonarist individual responsibility, or has that divide been overtaken by cultural polarization?

Professor Lucio Rennó: No, Lula da Silva’s initial approach, the way he organized his government, and the outcomes he sought to achieve were closely linked to improving the material conditions of the Brazilian population. He campaigned vigorously in the 2022 elections, criticizing Bolsonaro for his anti-democratic positions and his conduct during the pandemic, but also promising economic improvement. This remained an important issue in this year’s election.

The PT invested heavily in reducing inflation, increasing employment, and raising incomes, but perhaps without paying sufficient attention to other aspects of the Brazilian economy, particularly the profound levels of debt that significant portions of the population face today. This ultimately contributed to a sense of economic dissatisfaction in this year’s election.

I don’t think the Brazilian population is satisfied with its living conditions anymore, which is why this has been such a difficult election for the incumbent. Living conditions have deteriorated in Brazil over the past 10–15 years, and the overall public mood is very negative. That is always difficult for an incumbent to address.

Although the Workers’ Party and Lula’s government attempted to improve economic conditions and, consequently, the population’s living standards, the situation he inherited was so difficult that recovery has been challenging. Economic growth has not been particularly strong. Inflation is under control, unemployment is low, and incomes have increased, but not as much as the population needed. As a result, purchasing power remains a problem for Brazilians.

The general perception is that Lula has not delivered on his promise to improve material conditions, particularly for Brazil’s poorer population. This dissatisfaction and frustration with living conditions and the overall state of the economy have also worked against Lula.

So, the combination of the penal punitivist narrative and the government’s relatively weak economic performance also favored Flávio Bolsonaro in the election. The PT is now attempting several last-minute policy changes to see whether it can reverse some of these significant problems, including the high levels of household debt in Brazil.

The Resilience of Bolsa Família Under a Bolsonaro Government

Your work on Bolsa Família stresses the resilience of social policy even across changes of government. If Flávio Bolsonaro wins, how much institutional room would he actually have to retrench Brazil’s welfare architecture, given bureaucratic capacity, policy feedback, and electoral dependence on social benefits?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Jair Bolsonaro attempted to rebrand the Bolsa Família program during his last year in government. Bolsonarismo has always maintained an ambivalent position toward conditional cash transfer programs. Its supporters criticized these programs in the past, and once in power, they shifted their focus toward finding exit doors from the program rather than expanding coverage and increasing benefits. They also reduced some of the conditionalities.

We should expect the program to continue under a Flávio Bolsonaro government. Previous attempts to change it significantly failed, partly because rebranding Bolsa Família did not produce substantial electoral returns. However, they will certainly try to re-establish the narrative that the government should seek exit doors from Bolsa Família. This approach would likely return under a new Bolsonaro administration led by Flávio.

So, we should expect changes to Bolsa Família, but not its termination or complete disruption. The program clearly continues to provide significant resources to families who would otherwise lack access to this money. It therefore remains a very important source of support for a substantial portion of the Brazilian population.

The political risk of substantially changing Bolsa Família is very high for anyone attempting to reform the program. It should therefore be maintained. It is difficult to say whether they will try to change its name again and claim credit for it, but we should not expect the program to be terminated altogether.

Democratic Backsliding and Legislative Authoritarianism

Brazilian National Congress at sunset. Brasília, Federal District, Brazil, August 26, 2018. Photo: Diego Grandi / Dreamstime.

In The Crisis of Democracy in Brazil, you and Leonardo Avritzer argue that Bolsonaro activated pre-existing institutional vulnerabilities rather than creating them from scratch. Does Flávio Bolsonaro’s rise suggest that those vulnerabilities remain politically exploitable despite the democratic resistance of 2022–23?

Professor Lucio Rennó: The structural components of the Brazilian political system that led us to a significant crisis of democracy, culminating in the January 8 attacks, are still present. Our institutional framework still contains significant elements inherited from the previous military dictatorship. In the book, we refer to these as authoritarian enclaves: institutional features embedded in the Constitution and in the functioning of executive-legislative and civil-military relations. These remain sources of conflict within the country and represent unresolved dilemmas that we have yet to overcome.

There have been attempts at institutional change to address some of these enclaves, but I don’t think they are helping to strengthen democracy. In fact, they may be counterproductive. What we’re witnessing in Brazil today is a rather unusual process of democratic backsliding, in which power-grabbing and the centralization of power are occurring primarily within Congress rather than the executive branch. This differs from the traditional pattern of democratic backsliding, characterized by the concentration of power in the executive branch and the weakening of checks on executive authority, something we’re seeing elsewhere in the world.

In Brazil, however, we are witnessing the centralization of power within Congress, which is controlled by a highly pragmatic, clientelistic coalition with strong inclinations toward a conservative policy agenda. This represents a different process, although it has parallels with what has happened in Peru, for instance, where some analysts have described the phenomenon as legislative authoritarianism. We can identify elements of that same logic in Brazil.

The military situation also remains unresolved. Military prerogatives persist regarding benefits, salaries, and influence over defense policy, as well as the possibility of military intervention to address civilian problems through the so-called Garantia da Lei e da Ordem (Guarantee of Law and Order, GLO) mechanism, which is embedded in the Brazilian Constitution.

Several of the issues we identify in the book therefore remain unresolved and constitutionally embedded. What may happen in the future is a further strengthening of this process of power-grabbing by Congress and the highly clientelistic, pragmatic, conservative coalition that controls it.

So, if Lula wins the second round of the election, he will face considerable difficulties governing the country, both because of the existing balance of power between the executive and legislative branches and because of the very conservative composition of Congress following the 2026 election.

Congressional Power and the Future of the Supreme Court

You also argue that Brazil’s judiciary became both a source of political conflict and a crucial defender of democracy. If a new Bolsonaro presidency again confronts the Supreme Court, could Brazil enter a renewed cycle of populist conflict between electoral authorization and constitutional restraint?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Yes, this is at the top of Brazil’s reform agenda today, particularly with the new Congress coming into power. Regardless of whether Flávio Bolsonaro or Lula wins, I believe Congress itself will push a strong agenda to reform the Supreme Court, alter the monocratic powers of its justices, and establish greater limitations on what the Court can decide. This is a clear consequence of the results of the Senate and Chamber of Deputies elections in Brazil.

Even if Lula remains in power, Congress will pursue this agenda because it has become so empowered over the past 10 years that it is now the key lawmaking actor in Brazil. I expect some resistance from the Supreme Court and, if Lula holds the presidency, from the executive branch as well. However, if Flávio Bolsonaro wins, this agenda will receive full presidential support.

What we could potentially see under a Flávio Bolsonaro presidency is an alignment between Congress and the executive branch aimed at further weakening the judiciary and institutions of horizontal accountability in Brazil, such as the Public Prosecutor’s Office, the Federal Police, and the Tribunal de Contas, which is responsible for overseeing public accounts. We would therefore be looking at a situation in which these institutions of horizontal accountability are weakened primarily to the benefit of Congress rather than the presidency.

The Supreme Court Became the Primary Target for Retaliation

Flávio Bolsonaro has pledged amnesty for his father and for participants in the January 8 attacks. Should this be read mainly as family loyalty, as movement maintenance, or as a broader populist attempt to redefine accountability as political persecution?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Yes, it has a deeper meaning, as you have suggested. The Bolsonarista narrative all along has been that Jair Bolsonaro has been treated unfairly because of his defiance of the establishment. The Supreme Court, as a representative of this establishment, became Bolsonaro’s and Bolsonarismo’s principal foe, their most important enemy, and the primary target for retaliation.

That is what we should expect. If Flávio wins, we will see Jair Bolsonaro pardoned. Even if Flávio does not win, there is a significant chance that Congress will approve amnesty for Bolsonaro and all those who attacked democratic institutions during the January 8 events.

So, we should expect considerable tension between Congress and the Supreme Court. Depending on who wins the presidency, these attacks against the Supreme Court could receive strong presidential support. If Flávio wins, Jair Bolsonaro will certainly be free by January 2. The same applies to his brother, Eduardo Bolsonaro, who has also recently been convicted of crimes and would likewise be pardoned. We will therefore see clear attempts to challenge legal decisions made under the democratic order. That, in itself, represents an attack on Brazil’s democratic order.

Brazilian Democracy Has Demonstrated Its Resilience

Protesters protest for the freedom of Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on Avenida Paulista in São Paulo, Brazil on April 7, 2019. Photo: Cris Faga.

Donald Trump’s second presidency has involved renewed efforts to expand executive authority, reshape federal agencies, challenge institutional constraints, and pursue political adversaries. If Flávio Bolsonaro wins, is the relevant Brazilian risk imitation of Trump’s second-term strategy—or would Brazil’s stronger congressional and judicial constraints produce a fundamentally different trajectory?

Professor Lucio Rennó: Up until now, Brazilian democracy has demonstrated its resilience. Lula’s victory was important in this regard, as was the organization of the opposition to Jair Bolsonaro. Civil society has also played an important role, while the Supreme Court has been particularly significant in safeguarding basic constitutional rights and the rule of law in the country.

A return of Bolsonarismo to the presidency, in an environment where Congress is highly favorable to the movement, would pose a serious threat of substantial institutional change. As I mentioned earlier, this could involve weakening oversight institutions and the judiciary, which remain among the last forms of institutional resistance to democratic retrenchment in Brazil.

However, we should not underestimate the role of the opposition in Congress, led by the Workers’ Party as the hegemonic force on the left. We have already begun to see a reaction to Flávio Bolsonaro from the opposition. This past weekend, substantial popular movements and demonstrations in support of Lula and against Bolsonaro took place in the streets of almost all Brazil’s major cities.

The left has also begun to restructure and reorient itself to confront the rise of the extreme right, reflected in the electoral victories of the PL and Bolsonarismo. We should therefore expect resistance from the opposition, just as we witnessed in the period leading up to the 2022 election. The role of the opposition and the left proved fundamental to Jair Bolsonaro’s first defeat.

The election is still open in Brazil. We need to examine the latest polls coming out today and tomorrow to assess whether Lula still has a chance of winning the second round. Regardless of the outcome, the opposition, particularly the left and the Workers’ Party, is already beginning to organize itself as a force of resilience and resistance to shifts in the policy and institutional agenda in Congress.

We should therefore expect a significant struggle within Congress, with the opposition seeking to delay or obstruct decisions that advance this more conservative agenda. Nor should we underestimate the Workers’ Party’s ability to mobilize civil society to remain vigilant and critical of these changes. We have seen this in the past, and we should expect it again if Flávio wins the upcoming second round.

Even leaving the presidential outcome aside, we should expect the congressional minority, composed largely of the Workers’ Party, to demonstrate considerable resilience in resisting institutional and policy changes.

Brazil’s Emerging Two-Bloc Political System

And finally, Professor Rennó, looking toward October 25, is the deeper significance of this runoff simply whether Lula or Flávio Bolsonaro wins—or whether Brazil is consolidating a new party system structured around two durable political identities, Lulism and Bolsonarismo, each offering a competing conception of “the people,” the state, and democracy itself?

Professor Lucio Rennó: These elections are historic in the sense that they consolidate two national political alternatives, leaving very little room for a third way to emerge in presidential elections. We have to bear in mind that Brazil is a multiparty system, with a significant number of effective parties in the Chamber of Deputies and the Senate, giving it a distinct political dynamic compared with, for instance, the United States. In part, Congress is so powerful in Brazil precisely because of our multiparty structure and the way our party system is organized.

What this election demonstrates, and what the 2024 municipal elections had already begun to reveal, is the nationalization of political polarization in Brazil. This polarization has become dominant in the current election, particularly with the growth of the PL, but also with the significant results achieved by the Workers’ Party, especially in the Chamber of Deputies. The party increased its representation in the Chamber and further consolidated its position as the most important political force on the left.

So, this election is symbolic for Brazil because it demonstrates how the country has become polarized between two political forces representing distinct ideological and policy positions. These forces are also dividing the country along emerging political identities that did not previously exist in this form.

This is particularly important because we are now witnessing the construction of political identities that transcend politics and increasingly affect our daily lives. We see something similar in the United States, where Democrats and Republicans often do not mingle socially. We are beginning to see the same phenomenon in Brazil, and these divisions are becoming even stronger in the current election. 

Professor Adolph Reed Jr.

Prof. Reed: The Structural Contradictions That Gave Rise to Trumpism Remain Unresolved

As the United States approaches the 2026 midterm elections, Professor Adolph Reed Jr. offers a critical political-economic interpretation of Trumpism, arguing that the structural contradictions underlying authoritarian nationalism remain fundamentally unresolved. In this wide-ranging interview with the ECPS, Professor Reed examines the tensions between capitalist accumulation and democratic legitimacy, challenges race-reductionist explanations of inequality, and critiques neoliberalism’s displacement of class-based politics. Warning that “the threat of another version of Trumpism will continue to be there,” he emphasizes the limitations of electoral mobilization without durable working-class organization. Drawing on his experience with the Bernie Sanders campaigns, Professor Reed advocates rebuilding solidaristic, universalist politics capable of confronting both economic inequality and authoritarianism through sustained political organization and democratic-socialist transformation.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As the United States approaches the November 3, 2026, midterm elections, fundamental questions persist about the political-economic foundations of Trumpism, the durability of authoritarian nationalism, and the declining capacity of the American left to articulate a transformative alternative. In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Adolph Reed Jr., Professor Emeritus of Political Science at the University of Pennsylvania and Distinguished Visiting Professor of Politics at Mount Holyoke College, offers a historically grounded critique of Trumpism, neoliberalism, racial politics, and the erosion of working-class political organization.

One of the most distinctive voices in American political thought, Professor Reed challenges interpretations that privilege political personalities, demographic identities, or ideological labels over the structural contradictions of capitalist democracy. Rather than becoming preoccupied with whether Trumpism should be classified as populism or fascism, he emphasizes its political consequences and underlying material conditions. “Trumpism is clearly a form of authoritarianism,” he argues, while observing that it remains loosely aligned with authoritarian tendencies emerging across Europe and Latin America.

Crucially, Professor Reed cautions against assuming that Trump’s departure would eliminate the political forces associated with his presidency. “The structural contradictions aren’t going anywhere,” he insists, identifying the increasingly fraught relationship between capitalist accumulation and political legitimation as a defining tension within neoliberal democracies. Unless these contradictions are addressed through an alternative political vision capable of providing security and well-being, Professor Reed warns, “the threat of another version of Trumpism will continue to be there.”

The interview also explores Professor Reed’s longstanding critique of race-reductionist explanations of political behavior and inequality. Questioning the treatment of racial categories as coherent political constituencies, he argues that contemporary social science has been “more or less willfully making class and political economy disappear from our understanding of American politics.” His historically specific approach to racism and white supremacy challenges explanations that detach racial ideologies from material interests, institutional structures, and political mobilization.

Turning to democratic socialism, Professor Reed reflects on his involvement in both Bernie Sanders presidential campaigns and the organizational limitations that constrained their transformative potential. “You can’t elect your way to social transformation, at least not without an organizational base,” he observes. Despite these setbacks, he identifies growing skepticism toward capitalism among working people as evidence of changing political possibilities.

Ultimately, Professor Reed argues that confronting authoritarianism and neoliberalism requires sustained organizing beyond electoral cycles. His central message emphasizes the patient reconstruction of working-class solidarity, institutional capacity, and universalist politics. As he concludes, “You’ve got to be able to focus both on what needs to be done to stop the bleeding right now, to keep things from getting worse, and on where we’re trying to go in the long run.”

Here is our interview with Professor Adolph Reed, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Trumpism Is Clearly a Form of Authoritarianism

National Guard troops on standby during a downtown Los Angeles demonstration against expanded ICE operations and in support of immigrant rights in Los Angeles, US on June 8, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Reed, welcome, and thank you for joining us. Let me begin with how we should conceptualize Trumpism itself. You have recently referred explicitly to the rise of “Trumpist fascism” and elsewhere described Trumpism as the “point of the lance” of a broader fascist international. At the same time, much of the political science literature analyzes Trump through the language of populism, authoritarian populism, or the populist radical right. So, what is obscured when Trumpism is understood primarily as populism rather than as fascism? And what political-economic criteria, in your view, should distinguish fascism from right-wing populism in the contemporary United States?

Professor Adolph Reed: That’s an important question because a lot of ink has been spilled over a debate that, often enough or all too often, shifts the lens away from examining the pragmatic or practical political impacts of the shift and toward a taxonomic exercise, which is academics really like to do. From that perspective, I won’t quibble about whether Trump should most properly or most effectively be understood as a fascist, because that automatically opens up a second-order argument about how we delineate the most important features of fascism.

I would say two things. One is that Trumpism is clearly a form of authoritarianism, politically. While it’s not necessarily directly coordinated, it seems to be more or less loosely aligned with other variants and expressions of authoritarianism that have been rising across the world, not just in Europe, where it’s most conspicuous, but also now in Latin America.

I am concerned about what feels to me like a promiscuous usage of populism, and this is another problem that American social scientists often have. Going back to the 2016 presidential campaign, there was a tendency in public intellectual life, and all too frequently in political science, to define populism in such a way that it would capture any political tendency that’s either somewhat to the right of the conservative coalition or somewhat to the left of the center-left coalition. I found that quite unhelpful and ideological.

Trump’s political persona and performance, as well as the performance of his minions, show characteristics or behaviors that make us think of fascism or other authoritarian movements, past or present. But I’m not really hung up on taxonomizing Trumpism. I’m more concerned with trying to make sense of it within the context of contemporary politics and the dangers it poses to us.

So, it feels a little bit like you may have asked me what time it is, and I gave you a disquisition on how to make a watch. I apologize if that’s true. My son says one of our problems, his and mine, is that we tend to speak in paragraphs.

Trumpism Beyond Trump: Structural Contradictions and Capitalist Interests

Trumpism is frequently interpreted as a highly personalized movement built around Donald Trump’s charisma, grievances, and domination of the Republican Party. Your analysis, however, places much greater emphasis on the destruction of working-class political capacity, neoliberal hegemony, and the absence of an effective anti-capitalist left. How important is Trump himself to explaining Trumpism? If Trump disappeared from American politics tomorrow, how much of the political formation identified with his name would actually disappear with him?

Professor Adolph Reed: That’s a very good question because Trump aspires to be a caudillo, or a dictator, in his fantasy life. Unfortunately, for Trump, the distinction between fantasy life and reality is always blurred. So, I don’t know. Partly because Trump insists on surrounding himself with incompetent sycophants, I don’t think the movement, Trumpism, has institutional constituents so much as a gaggle of free-rider billionaires and hustlers who share with him a mean-spirited take on the world in general, along with no shortage of avarice and a propensity for corruption.

But I don’t know whether Trumpism per se could survive his demise as a movement. That may be wishful thinking, too. But it is also the case that those forces are still going to be out there. To the extent that they have grounded material interests, those interests aren’t going away. Alliances could potentially develop from the affiliations that have come together under the banner of Trumpism, and they could reorganize.

It’s certainly the case that the structural contradictions aren’t going anywhere, especially the increasingly fraught tension between the imperatives of accumulation and political legitimation, principally in neoliberal democracies.

We’re also seeing more and more signs that we’ve come to a point at which the Democratic Party is, by default, more generally favored by large capital and governing elites. I have some friends, like Sam Gindin in Canada, who’ve been stressing this point all along. The Democrats provide a certain stability and seem to be better able, at least on the surface, to navigate the tension between the accumulation and legitimation imperatives than Republicans are, although they aren’t particularly successful either. That, as I’ve argued, is one of the factors that led to the rise of Trumpism in the first place.

So, in a nutshell, I would say that the structural contradictions that have given space for the rise of authoritarian nationalist, fascist, and populist tendencies around the world remain unresolved. Until those are actually addressed, there will continue to be enough dissatisfaction, desperation, and a sense of undesirable or frightening uncertainty among the general population that, unless there’s some political voice offering a different view of the world and a different strategy for realizing security and well-being, the threat of another version of Trumpism will continue to be there.

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

Economic Insecurity and Status Insecurity Are Not Really Separable

After the 2024 election, you rejected the widespread claim that Trump had assembled a genuinely “new coalition,” arguing that pollsters and political strategists reify demographic categories into supposedly coherent constituencies. How should we therefore interpret shifts toward Trump among segments of Black, Latino, immigrant, or working-class voters? Do these shifts reveal an ideological realignment, or do they demonstrate the limitations of treating race, ethnicity, gender, and education as ready-made political blocs?

Professor Adolph Reed: That’s a very important question, and some of your readers might consider my response completely off the wall. But I’ve argued that those blocs of voters, defined by the pollsters’ ways of aggregating data, are themselves basically artificial. Black male voters under 40… What sort of category is that? What does that tell us about any set of individuals and what motivates them? Or Hispanic voters, even Hispanic Catholic voters… I think those categories are too idealized and unwieldy to be really useful to us and are more attuned to producing outcomes than to measuring them. That is to say, these formulations of pre-given voting blocs reflect as much an effort to bring those blocs together as meaningful political categories as an effort to help us predict outcomes. They encourage people to understand themselves and their concerns within the taxonomy of those big blocks and act accordingly.

I think that’s the first problem. Over the last 10 or 15 years, I’ve become increasingly impressed by how actively the social sciences, or the various disciplines within them, have been more or less willfully making class and political economy disappear from our understanding of American politics, even making the idea of a working class disappear. I don’t count economics and psychology in this.

One way to punctuate that last point is to note that, for the two or three decades after World War II in the US, my discipline, political science, along with sociology and, to a lesser extent, perhaps anthropology, hinged largely on the invention of a middle class as a baseline category in American politics. The middle class is a notion that defies scientific specificity. It’s all over the place. It’s a category that now has to do with attitudes and social position, but almost never with one’s place in political economy.

That said, going back to the 2024 election, there seemed to be some loss of support among what are categorized as Black or Hispanic constituencies, with some movement from the Democrats to the Republicans. Especially among Black voters, the move toward Trump has always been overstated. What the same pollsters are telling us now is that Black and Hispanic voters who had flirted with Trump seem to have become disaffected with him.

This may seem too tendentious, but I think one of the most meaningful features of this horse-race, post-game handicapping that dominates political interpretation in American life, both in the media and in the academy, is that, consciously or not, it’s more about producing outcomes and constituencies that fit into the abstract categories we’ve made up for them than about understanding what people are actually concerned about.

One other point on this: a former colleague of mine, who’s a very smart, insightful, and talented scholar, contended quite militantly after the 2016 election that the bulk of Trump voters were motivated not by economic insecurity but by status insecurity. I thought about that for a minute and wondered: What part of the solar system do you have to live on not to notice that those two aren’t really separable?

That just suggests to me, as a critical intellectual historian and a student of the history of ideologies, that there’s some ideology at work in that argument. Again, I feel like I’ve gone all around Robin Hood’s barn, as my grandmother would say. I’m sorry if it’s not directly responsive enough.

White Supremacy, Racism, and Historical Explanation

Jake Angeli or QAnon Shaman was among those who participated in the riots initiated by former US President Donald Trump at the Capitol, Washington D.C. on January 6, 2021. Photo: Johnny Silvercloud

One of your most persistent criticisms of contemporary political analysis is that concepts such as “white supremacy” and “racism” are often treated as autonomous causal forces rather than historically specific ideologies embedded in concrete social relations. In your 2020 discussion of socialism and race, you criticized explanations of Trump’s appeal that presume an enduring racial motivation among white workers without sufficient historical or causal specification. How, then, should scholars determine when white supremacy is genuinely explanatory rather than simply descriptive?

Professor Adolph Reed: That’s also a very good question. I don’t think I have methodological advice to offer. But a big step forward would be to pose the question you’ve raised at every step along the way, at every compass point, and to interrogate the notion of an abstraction. First, what does one mean when one says white supremacy? Or, for that matter, what does one mean when one says racism?

I’m a pretty historicist scholar, and I’m always conscious that the same phrase can mean radically different things in concrete terms at different historical moments and in different historical contexts. One facet of a perverse strain in liberal intellectual discourse over the last 20 or 25 years, which I feel is an American export product in the same way that Air Jordans are, but with the heft of foundation money behind it, is the premise that such abstractions as white supremacy or racism, and one could even say sexism, are primordial and, as some sociobiologists would argue, even hardwired or in some ways fashioned on the Pleistocene plains, or whatever.

It seems to me that if we refrain from constructing accounts of the past and its relation to the present that conform to what the sociologist Loïc Wacquant described as the logic of the trial, it might help us jettison an approach to explanation driven by an ideological or moral imperative to demonstrate the existence of racism, whatever we mean by it. Instead, we could start from historical specificity, first trying to root these expressions in their own contexts, to see what they’re responding to and who’s trying to mobilize these ideologies.

The sociologist Rogers Brubaker, whose work is really very important, has made the point that race, ethnicity, and nationality are all basically different labels for the same phenomenon. But he also notes that we all have multiple ethnic or ethnic-like identities that we experience and carry around all the time. They tend to rise to the conscious mind, or come to the foreground, or retreat into the background in response to cultural and contextual stimuli.

For instance, if my postal worker was raised Catholic and I was raised Catholic, then we’re Catholics with each other. Or if someone has family in Cuba and I have family in Cuba, then we’re Cubans together. What’s especially powerful is his argument that ethnic identities, or a particular ethnic identity, are likely to come to the foreground when mobilized by political entrepreneurs who want to pursue agendas that require the support of a population substantially larger than the number of people who would benefit concretely from the realization of those agendas.

If we think about the fantasized notion of ethnic war, to which people revert to provide evidence for the claim that there are ancient, primordial hatreds, that’s a very good illustration of this. So-called ethnic wars are almost invariably prompted by the actions of self-interested elites. The Lebanese Civil War is a classic case of this. You attack another group, which then retaliates by attacking members of your group. You can then put yourself in the position of telling your group that we, the militia, the ethnically or religiously defined militia, are your only hope for salvation. It’s almost like a mafia extortion racket.

So, I’ll draw a line under this by returning to the presumption that there are these primordial identities. To take another illustration, say I have a Polish grandparent, and you have a Polish grandparent, and we’re somehow capable of sensing that we share a Polishness. That kind of thinking, like Afro-pessimism and stories of tragic, primordial, intractable ethnic hatreds, is basically the quintessence of what racism is.

I’d be happy to be a foot soldier in a campaign to eliminate, or at least counter, that form of thinking, which is best done by trying to organize around a different conception of what shared interests are.

Race Is One Species Within a Broader Genus of Ideologies of Ascriptive Hierarchy

You have argued that Marxism’s crucial contribution to understanding race is “demystification”: treating race not as an eternal social substance but as a historically specific ideology that develops within particular relations of production and power. How does this perspective change the way we should understand racial politics under Trump, especially when explicitly racialized rhetoric, immigration politics, and unequal outcomes plainly remain politically consequential?

Professor Adolph Reed: I’ll tell you one thing: during both of Trump’s presidencies, I’ve said to friends that I’ve occasionally wondered what it would have been like to live through the last decades of the 19th century in the American South, not necessarily to have been alive then, but at least to have watched how the wounded Southern planter-merchant capitalist class, weakened by the capital-P Populist insurgency from below in the early 1890s, regrouped, self-consciously constructed a white supremacist ideology, imposed it institutionally through the deployment of as much violence, fraud, and intimidation as necessary, and established it as the hegemonic ideology.

Because it’s clear that while committed white supremacists in the Jim Crow-era South were certainly committed to racial hierarchy and the establishment of a racist regime, and I would never challenge the sincerity of that commitment, white supremacy was simultaneously a discourse of mobilization. It helped divide the potential electorate and the forces that had been arrayed against that dominant class, while deploying scapegoating in much the same way that the Trumpists do now.

Both things are true. The commitment to a white supremacist ideology was genuine, but it was simultaneously a technique for imposing a dominant order that was skewed toward representing only the interests of the upper class. Both things happen in all these movements.

I’m trying to finish a document now, and I may discuss this in the piece you mentioned. What is most helpful is to see race as a subset of, and I’m often inclined toward the evolutionary metaphor here, a species within a genus of discourses and ideologies of ascriptive hierarchy. That is, taxonomies of hierarchy based on what sets of people, who are themselves partly constructed through the discourse, are by nature rather than what they do.

There have been kazillions of these. Christians versus Muslims, for instance, and we could go on with a whole bunch of them. I’ve always found the eugenics era intellectually interesting because the power of this genus of ideologies was so great, for a variety of reasons during that period, that it became basically disconnected even from phenotype. So, you could see the character of constructed ascriptive hierarchy operating a little more clearly.

If you look at race that way, it becomes a little easier to see the historical function of different expressions of this ideological genus over time, rather than focusing on just one species.

Most People Cannot Imagine a Genuinely Egalitarian Society

In your formulation, contemporary anti-racism can function as “a neoliberal alternative to a left” when politics becomes centered on proportional representation within existing hierarchies rather than transforming the structures that generate inequality. How would you apply that critique today, when corporations, universities, liberal institutions, and political parties have simultaneously embraced some forms of diversity politics while economic inequality has remained deeply entrenched? Where is the boundary between necessary opposition to racism and what you regard as race-reductionist politics?

Professor Adolph Reed: That’s the $64 question. There’s a lot of undoing that needs to be done, unfortunately. There’s a much more complex account to be given of the disappearance of a left grounded in a political-economic understanding of inequality. But we all know it’s happened. It’s happened even within social democratic parties in Europe, where those traditions have always been stronger than their counterparts in the US.

There was a brief period when I was fairly close to Die Linke through a North American left dialogue, and it was possible to see, even then, a tendency within that movement toward a division between what could be summarized as a class-based left and an identity-based left.

Frankly, the victory of what we understand as neoliberalism helped establish the hegemony of a notion of actionable inequality that comes down to disparities or disparate outcomes, and the dynamics and practices that produce those outcomes among ascriptively defined groups. This is essentially about their ability to participate in, or take advantage of, equal opportunity under capitalism.

We’ve now reached a point where capitalist class rule is so dominant that it’s not even possible for most people to imagine a genuinely egalitarian way of organizing society that’s actually different from what currently exists. I don’t know why I’m trying to be quiet about this, but that’s what I think the ultimate problem is.

But if you’ll pardon the plug, an online academic journal I’m associated with, nonsite.org, is publishing a three-part symposium called Capitalism 1996 to 2026. The first installment came out just this past week, and I strongly encourage all your readers and listeners to take a look at it. There are four really strong articles.

There Is No Such Thing as Black Wealth and White Wealth

A Trump supporter engages in conversation with a pedestrian at Columbus Circle on October 17, 2020, in New York City. Photo: Ron Adar.

Your work with Merlin Chowkwanyun criticizes a discourse of racial disparity that carefully documents unequal outcomes but can leave their causal mechanisms underspecified. In the current political environment, how should researchers analyze racial disparities in wealth, health, policing, education, or incarceration without either minimizing racism or converting statistical disparities themselves into proof of a singular racial cause?

Professor Adolph Reed: The first step is always to interrogate whether what seems like a racial disparity is, in fact, a racial disparity. Because it could simply be a statistical artifact that conceals other dynamics producing the apparent unequal outcome, which don’t necessarily have anything to do with race.

In the COVID case, for instance, what initially appeared to be massive racial differences in both incidence and morbidity became much more clearly attributable to environmental factors as time went on and more data came in. These included the jobs people have, where they live, the transportation they depend on, and underlying tendencies or morbidity factors. These factors may be racial to the extent that a history of inequality positions some groups as structurally, on average, more vulnerable than others.

But part of our argument was to question what we gain, even in areas like health and criminal justice, including police killings, by defining these outcomes as definitively caused by racial disparity. The typical approach begins by identifying evidence of racial disparity, which often requires goosing the data, as it were, or inflecting its interpretation toward race as an abstraction. This also functions to justify the abstract claim that racism is a political force that needs to be dealt with. But there’s no causal mechanism there. That’s part of the problem.

I also find the emergence of the racial wealth gap as another significant part of this discourse especially fascinating. First of all, roughly 70 to 75 percent of so-called white wealth is controlled by the richest 10 percent of white people. Between 70 and 75 percent of so-called Black or Hispanic wealth is also controlled by the richest 10 percent of Black and Hispanic people. So, what does racial wealth mean in this context?

I’ve said in talks and even in my classes that we’re ideologically predisposed to believe, at least in the United States, that all Black people think with one brain and share every aspiration, and therefore what’s good for any one Black person is ipso facto good for all Black people, for one tortured reason or another.

So, I suggest stepping outside that predisposition. Let’s assume a white female nurse loses her job, has no independent source of funds, and is on the verge of being evicted from her apartment. Where is the pot of white wealth she gets to go to? Where is the teacup, presumably, from which she can get her rent money? When you think of it that way, the idea of racial wealth seems all the more preposterous. So, I’d say there is no such thing as Black wealth, white wealth, or any other group wealth. To that extent, there can’t be a racial wealth gap.

My good friend and colleague Walter Benn Michaels and I started saying, even before we knew each other and quite independently of each other, that when you hear the word race, you should think unicorn, because race is as real as unicorns are. Just as you can taxonomize races, you can taxonomize unicorns in any way you want because you’re not really constrained by having to approximate the empirical reality of the unicorn. Race is the same way. Let’s get that mixed-up stuff straight.

Universalism, Anti-Discrimination, and Working-Class Solidarity

Your work repeatedly returns to the possibility of solidaristic, universalist politics organized around shared material interests. Critics of this approach often argue that universal programs can reproduce racial inequalities unless they are explicitly designed around historically specific forms of disadvantage. How would you answer that objection? What would a genuinely multiracial democratic-socialist universalism look like institutionally rather than rhetorically?

Professor Adolph Reed: It seems to me, frankly, that this argument is a red herring. It’s simply a matter of committing to conscious and active anti-discrimination within the framework of universalist politics. The presumption of essential solidarity is what provides the basis for challenging prejudice, which is, after all, an attitude, as well as discriminatory practices. So, I think it’s a non-issue. It’s a smokescreen, much like the idea that there are people out there called class-first Marxists or whatever.

No Social Transformation Without an Organizational Base

Democratic Senator Bernie Sanders speaks at Presidential Rally at Springs Preserve Ampitheater evening before Nevada Caucus, Las Vegas, NV on February 21, 2020. Photo: Joseph Sohm.

The Sanders campaigns appeared, briefly, to revive mass interest in democratic socialism and decommodified public goods such as universal healthcare and free higher education. Yet the organizational breakthrough many supporters anticipated did not follow. Was Sanders primarily evidence that a latent constituency for social democracy exists in the United States, or did the movement around him reveal how weak the organizational infrastructure necessary for democratic socialism has become?

Professor Adolph Reed: I think both things are true. In the spirit of full disclosure, I worked on both Sanders campaigns. Also, much of the Sanders program actually came straight from the Labor Party in the US, founded in 1996, in which I was also deeply involved.

Very few people believed that Sanders actually had a chance to win either nomination, though some of us thought that if he could somehow win the nomination, he would have a better chance of winning the presidency than Hillary Clinton did. We’ll never know. But many of us also thought it was really just as well that he didn’t win the presidency, because you can’t elect your way to social transformation, at least not without an organizational base.

What we thought the campaigns could do, both times, was publicly dramatize the problem of intensifying inequality and insecurity in the US, show that it was possible to imagine confronting those problems, and stimulate institutionally grounded organizing that could generate another political formation capable of pushing the struggle forward. But I was disappointed. 

During the first campaign, seven unions formed a Labor for Bernie group, and they acted in solidarity and coherently throughout the campaign. Interestingly, most of those unions had also been part of the Labor Party 20 years earlier. But for various reasons, some of which had to do with the debasement of American politics already underway, we came out of the 2016 presidential election and went straight into state elections, which were crucial to the unions’ concerns. So, the momentum generated through Bernie’s first campaign dissipated into politics as usual among the left trade unions. That’s one sense in which I say both of the possibilities you mentioned were correct.

Something similar happened the second time. We were a little closer to gaining traction after 2020. Then COVID hit, and the country immediately went into lockdown. I’d been working in South Carolina with my colleagues, trying to build on a grassroots base in support of single-payer healthcare, Medicare for All, on which we’d made a lot of headway during the campaign, notwithstanding the fact that Sanders was badly beaten in the primary. COVID tended to undercut those efforts.

But I’ll say this: I work with the Debs-Jones-Douglass Institute, a nonprofit we created with the Labor Party to undertake worker education, political education, cultural activities, and research on behalf of working-class politics. We’ve been doing this since the early 1990s, and the materials we produced in the 1990s, just a few years after the end of the Cold War, had to tiptoe around even using the word capitalism or being at all critical of it.

That environment has changed radically. I even had to apologize to my undergraduate students for a course I’m teaching this semester because it didn’t assume they were as attuned to criticisms of capitalism as they actually were. The majority of the students in this class are just second-year college students, albeit precocious ones.

One of the quips in the labor movement is that often the best organizer you have is the boss. That’s the case here. Thirty more years of going down the neoliberal road, especially since 2008, have made working people in general more skeptical and more open to critiques that begin by explaining how capitalism works and how those processes are connected to their insecurity.

We Must Stop the Bleeding Now Without Losing Sight of Our Long-Term Goals

And finally, Professor Reed, you have argued that there is “no effective substitute for an anti-capitalist left” and that confronting the far right requires the patient construction of a real working-class constituency rather than episodic mobilization around elections. Whatever happens on November 3, what should democratic socialists, trade unionists, and the broader left actually do the morning after the midterms? What would count, over the next five or ten years, as evidence that an organized political force capable of contesting both neoliberalism and the far right is genuinely being built?

Professor Adolph Reed: I have a pat answer to that: the same thing they did the morning before the election. Let me offer an illustration. During the 2020 campaign, the Sanders campaign sent me on a labor tour of South Carolina. South Carolina is probably the most reactionary state in America, though that changes from day to day, and perhaps often has the lowest trade union density in the entire country.

One of my stops was at a steelworkers’ union hall in Georgetown, South Carolina, on the coast. Among those in attendance were a couple of white rank-and-file members who had come to the hall on either a Saturday or Sunday morning. One of them was a younger guy, maybe 40 at most. He volunteered that he liked the Sanders economic program but couldn’t understand why the Democrats kept getting bogged down in what he called moral issues.

We had a little back-and-forth about what he meant, and it turned out he was referring to same-sex marriage and abortion. I was there as a supplicant, so I wasn’t going to be combative with him in any way. I tried a number of soft-pedaling approaches, like live and let live, or whatever, but nothing worked.

Finally, I asked, what’s more important to you? Having a good, secure job, good wages, benefits, access to desirable housing, adequate healthcare, the ability to provide your kids with a good education, and the opportunity to go back to school if you want? Or ensuring that no two people of the same sex can ever marry and that no woman can ever end an unwanted pregnancy? No, that didn’t convert him, but I didn’t expect it to, because I was just some fast-talking clown from Philadelphia. But it stopped him in his tracks for a few seconds.

I couldn’t help thinking: What if I were his brother-in-law, his kids’ soccer coach, his neighbor, or a co-worker on his shift, someone who had some standing in his eyes and could have this conversation with him repeatedly over time?

No, I don’t think the ideal outcome would necessarily be for him to become a militant advocate of reproductive rights. But at least over time, and on the basis of solidarity, he could come to accept that other people have different ways of seeing these issues, even though they’re committed to the same fundamental program of transforming society in the interests of working people. That’s where real tolerance of difference could come from.

You only get that through building a solidaristic movement over time. We haven’t had anything like that in the US, at least during my adult life. In fact, for most of my adult life, we haven’t even had the benefit of direct connections to people who knew it was possible to have a world like that and who had fought for that solidarity, both inside and outside the trade unions, in the period before World War II.

I may be old-fashioned, but I just don’t see any other way to do it. There’s no other way to get there. Now, that’s not to say that you shouldn’t pay attention to elections at all. I vote in every election.

There’s a phrase the Maoists used to use a long time ago: walking on two legs. You’ve got to be able to focus both on what needs to be done to stop the bleeding right now, to keep things from getting worse, and on where we’re trying to go in the long run. That’s my argument for everybody.

MEP Hanna Gedin.

MEP Gedin: The EU Is Losing Its Voice When It Comes to Upholding International Law

MEP Hanna Gedin argues that the EU’s credibility as a defender of democracy, human rights, and international law is being weakened by political double standards and the growing normalization of radical-right ideas. In this ECPS interview, she warns that “the EU is losing its voice when it comes to upholding international law” and points to inconsistencies in migration policy and relations with Israel and Turkey. Gedin also urges the European left not to adapt to the far right, but to build its own agenda around inequality, housing, energy, and the cost of living. “You need to have your own agenda,” she says, and to “make life a good life without adapting to the far right and their narrative.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Hanna Gedin, Member of the European Parliament for Sweden’s Vänsterpartiet (Left Party, V) and Vice-Chair of The Left Group, reflects on Sweden’s post-election political deadlock, the normalization of radical-right ideas in European policymaking, the erosion of international law, and the strategic dilemmas facing the democratic left. Gedin, who works on the internal market, industry, energy, women’s rights, and gender equality, situates these questions within a broader critique of inequality, restrictive migration policy, and the weakening of Europe’s normative credibility. 

The interview begins with the struggle to translate Sweden’s new parliamentary majority into a viable center-left government. Gedin rejects the idea that Vänsterpartiet should once again support a government from outside, insisting that “if our votes are needed, if our mandates are needed, of course we should be in the government.” She argues that the Center Party (C) “needs to choose,” because “there is no middle way.” At the same time, she acknowledges the deep economic divide between the two parties but maintains that cooperation remains possible on issues ranging from feminism and climate to international law and support for communities outside major cities.

A central theme of Gedin’s remarks is the extent to which the radical right has reshaped mainstream political agendas. She argues that Swedish parties have been “adapting and moving closer to the Sweden Democrats,” while politics has increasingly shifted away from “bread and butter” concerns toward culture-war issues. For Gedin, the answer is not imitation but political differentiation: “For the left, it’s really important not to adapt.” Instead, she insists, “You need to have your own agenda,” centered on the cost of living, inequality, housing, and material security.

This concern extends to migration policy at both Swedish and European levels. Gedin describes a “shift and an adaptation to the radical right” in EU migration politics and recalls far right and right-wing MEPs cheering “Send them back, send them back” during a vote on return hubs. Yet she also points to Sweden’s debate over teenage deportations as evidence that public attitudes can shift when abstract migration categories acquire “names and faces.”   

The interview’s sharpest normative critique concerns international law. Gedin argues that “the EU is losing its voice when it comes to upholding international law” and warns of “a complete erosion of international law” driven by double standards. She contrasts the EU’s firm response to Russia’s war against Ukraine with what she sees as a much weaker approach toward Israel, arguing that such inconsistency undermines European credibility globally.    

Ultimately, Gedin presents a distinctly materialist response to the rise of the far right. She argues that the left must make politics concrete: reduce inequality, address rents and energy costs, tax the very rich, and “make life a good life without adapting to the far right and their narrative.”

MEP Hanna Gedin. Photo: Umit Vurel.

Here is our interview with MEP Hanna Gedin, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

The Center Party Needs to Choose

Ms. Gedin, welcome. Let me begin with the tension between Vänsterpartiet (Left Party) and the Center Party and the prospects for forming a new red-green government. Sweden’s 2026 election produced a parliamentary majority for S, V, C, and MP, but that majority has so far proved difficult to turn into a government. Vänsterpartiet (V) insists that it must be part of the next government, while the Center Party (C) still refuses to accept V in government. Magdalena Andersson has now received a second opportunity to form an administration, and the four parties have at least begun talking together. Where, concretely, do you see a way out of this deadlock?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I’m not stressed or concerned because we have had this situation before, during the 2018 election, and it took a couple of months before we had a government. My party’s position is quite normal. If they want our votes, if they want our support for the government, of course we should, like every other party, be in the government. That’s a very normal position.

The Center Party has not really done its homework because they have said absolutely no to the Sweden Democrats, while at the same time they say absolutely no to us, and then there is no majority. So, they need to choose. There is no possibility in the middle, as they seem to think.

They have also been very clear and vocal in saying that Magdalena Andersson is their prime minister candidate, just as we have been. Then they need to show that and to choose. There is no middle way, and in the end, we will see this government forming.

V Wants a Stable Center-Left Government

The Center Party says it can support Magdalena Andersson as prime minister but draws a red line against Vänsterpartiet entering government. Why should the Left accept supporting a government from outside after an election in which its votes are indispensable to the new majority? And is there any compromise—cabinet participation, a formal cooperation agreement, budget influence—that V could realistically accept?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I’m not part of the negotiating team; I must start by saying that. But our demand is clear. We have been clear for many years now: if our votes are needed, if our mandates (seats) are needed, of course we should be in the government. We can’t support the government from the outside.

We have seen what that did before, in the 2018 election, when we were supposed to support the government from the outside. It became a very weak government. They did not have a majority for their budgets, and in the end, when they proposed a marketisation of the rent system in Sweden, we actually had to vote the government down. We don’t want that situation. We want a stable center-left government. This is our position.

The Ideological Divide Between V and C

Behind the dispute over cabinet seats lies a much deeper ideological conflict. The Center Party remains economically liberal, while Vänsterpartiet wants stronger welfare provision, greater redistribution, public investment, and tighter constraints on market power. If a red-green government is eventually formed, which of these substantive economic disagreements could become more difficult than the present argument over who gets to sit in government?

MEP Hanna Gedin: It is true that the Center Party and the Left Party have quite opposite economic politics. I would even say that the Center Party is quite extreme when it comes to economic politics. However, I have understood for several years now that they might be needed in the government, and we might sometimes have to undertake some very hard negotiations and find some kind of solution on these issues.

We do believe it’s possible, and we also think that we have a lot of issues that unite us—for example, when it comes to support for communities outside the big cities, feminism, international law, and climate. So, we do think that there are a lot of issues that we have in common.

The SD Is Now Seen as an Establishment Party

Sweden Democrats’ Square Meeting in Umeå. Jimmie Åkesson speaks to the people on the city square where opposition left-wingers have formed a chain and protest in Umeå, Sweden on August 14, 2018. Photo: Shutterstock.

Vänsterpartiet entered the election promising to help remove a government whose policies were heavily dependent on the Sweden Democrats. If the parties that won the parliamentary majority cannot agree on a government, is there a danger that the post-election dispute itself strengthens SD’s argument that the established parties are incapable of governing—and gives the radical right another opening?

MEP Hanna Gedin: What we saw in the Swedish election was that the Sweden Democrats, for the first time since they entered the National Assembly, actually decreased. They had quite a bad election, and this is, in a way, due to the fact that they are now seen as an establishment party. Even though they have not been part of the Tidö government, they have been the biggest party supporting this government.

When it comes to economic issues, they have shown that they are a right-wing party. They support the economic politics of the right-wing parties. So, I don’t think they have a case for saying that they are anything other than an established party nowadays.

I also think that the election results, where our party, the Swedish Left Party, had a very good election and where we can see that the left side actually got stronger, show that people want something else than the politics we have seen from the Tidö government. And I do think that we will be able to form a government.

Mainstream Parties Moving Toward the Sweden Democrats

You argued earlier that the Sweden Democrats, even without formally entering government, exercised enormous influence over migration, crime, and ethnicity, and that ideas once considered politically unthinkable had moved into government policy. After four years of Tidö government, how deeply has SD changed the political center of gravity in Sweden? Is the larger story now less about SD itself than about mainstream parties adopting parts of its agenda?

MEP Hanna Gedin: We have seen in Sweden a lot of parties adapting and moving closer to the Sweden Democrats, and that is something we see in many countries. It’s extremely dangerous. It’s dangerous when politics focuses on things that are not bread and butter. It’s not about the cost of living or what people really feel in everyday life, but about culture-war issues, and what that has done to society in Sweden is very dangerous.

During the Tidö government, the government put forward, and we adopted, snitch laws, so you should snitch on your neighbors or coworkers if they come from a different country. This is quite extreme. We have seen it even when it comes to criminal issues and so on—this kind of obsession that if you are from another country, you should go away, you should go out of Sweden. It’s also linked to the notion of criminality being colored, in a way. It has been quite an extreme development in Sweden.

What the election showed is that people do not want this kind of policy. During the election campaign, we talked about bread and butter. We talked about people’s cost of living. We talked about the skyrocketing rise in rent, for example. We did canvass. We knocked on almost half a million doors, and when we met people, they were not talking about snitch laws or the need to be tougher on criminals. They were talking about things that affected them in their ordinary lives.

A lot of people also said that. I met a woman who said, “You know, I have stomachache. They don’t want me here. They want to throw me out. What this government has done to me and my neighbors is horrible, and I can’t vote for them. I will vote for you.”

So, in a way, it has affected us. But I do think that what we have seen during these four years—this obsession with people of a different color of skin, or criminals, and so on—is not what people want. I really feel a bit like it’s easier to breathe now. It’s like opening a window, and I think a lot of people in Sweden agree with me.

And I think that’s also very important: the first thing these four parties did, even before forming a government, was to stop the deportation of young people that was planned under the Tidö government. We stopped it.

How the Left Should Confront the Far Right

You have described the far right as particularly effective at finding scapegoats, offering simple answers to complex problems, and forcing its issues to the center of public debate. Across Europe, far-right, radical-right, and populist radical-right parties are increasingly shaping policy even where they are not governing. Why has the democratic left struggled to set the agenda with the same effectiveness—and what has it failed to understand about voters attracted to these parties?

MEP Hanna Gedin: In politics, it’s easier to make people vote for something they are afraid of than for something they hope for. If we have been living for several years with this repressive politics and the right-wing agenda, people also forget what solidarity is and what equality is, and you need to be reminded of it sometimes.

But for the left, it’s really important not to adapt, not to only talk about the Sweden Democrats or the right, the extremist parties, and not to adapt to them. What the Social Democrats did in Sweden, mainly during the election campaign—talking about the Sweden Democrats—did not work. You need to have your own agenda, and you need to put forward reforms about the cost of living, for example. That was what we did, and we were rewarded by the election results in Sweden.

Gender, Migration, and the Far Right

Celebrating Sweden’s National Day in Norrköping, Sweden, on June 6, 2014. Immigrants and native Swedes participate together in National Day celebrations. Sweden’s National Day is an official public holiday. Photo: Dreamstime.

The far right increasingly presents itself not only as anti-immigration but as the defender of a particular European cultural order, often combining nationalism with opposition to abortion rights, LGBTQ rights, and gender equality. As an MEP working on women’s rights and gender equality, do you see these struggles as separate policy battles, or as parts of a broader political project to redefine who belongs and whose rights are considered legitimate?

MEP Hanna Gedin: We see these attacks every day in the European Parliament, and you can see them in a lot of countries as well. The struggles are connected, and you can’t just take one struggle; you need to see the fight as a common fight.

In this Parliament, we see attacks from the right-wing parties on trans people and on migrants, for example. We don’t yet see the same number of attacks on abortion rights, but I’m sure it will come if they are successful.

Stopping Teenage Deportations Is a Very Important Step

You recently raised the issue of what you called Sweden’s “teenage deportations”—young people who have grown up in Sweden but face removal when they turn 18. Sweden has moved toward some of Europe’s most restrictive migration policies. If a new Social Democratic-led government takes office, what specific changes would V demand on asylum, deportation, and family reunification, and which policies introduced during the Tidö period should be reversed first?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I’m not a parliamentarian in Sweden, I work mainly with EU policies. But I think it’s very interesting that, in 2015, something changed in Sweden. It was when there was a big migration to Sweden, and we started having these repressive laws.

During the last government, the Tidö government, something changed last year when we first had a mayor in the city of Jokkmokk (a small municipality and town in Norrbotten County, northern Sweden, in Swedish Lapland / S.G.) saying, “I don’t want you to deport my people living in my city,” and a lot of mayors started saying the same: “We don’t accept this kind of very repressive policy.”

Then we had the teenage deportations. As you said, we saw many deportations of teenagers who spoke perfectly good Swedish, who had grown up in Sweden, and who were deported from their families. And the debate started shifting. Instead of saying, “Yes, people should go out, we should send them out, we should have more oppressive laws,” people were saying, “These are my neighbors, these are my coworkers, these are my friends.” They had names and faces, and the debate changed and shifted.

The first thing the four parties—the Swedish Left Party, the Centre Party, the Social Democrats, and the Green Party in Sweden—have been doing, even though we have not yet formed the government, is to stop these deportations. I think this is a very important step.

EU Migration Policy and the Radical Right

EU Commission.
Berlaymont Building, headquarters of the European Commission, Brussels, Belgium. Constructed between 1963 and 1969, the building has become the iconic symbol of the European Commission, the executive branch of the European Union. Photo: Wiktor Wojtas / Dreamstime.

At EU level, the Migration and Asylum Pact entered into application in June, while the new Return Regulation creates faster return procedures and opens the possibility of “return hubs” outside the Union. Governments are now discussing even tougher measures. Are we witnessing the normalization at EU level of ideas that only a few years ago were associated primarily with the radical right? And where should the legal and moral limits of European migration policy be drawn?

MEP Hanna Gedin: Yes, we are witnessing a shift and an adaptation to the radical right when it comes to migration, even at the EU level. I was present in the chamber when the return hubs were voted on, and what happened was that the radical right stood up and cheered together with the right-wing parties when they voted this through. They cheered and screamed, “Send them back, send them back.” This would not have been possible a couple of years ago.

This is a situation that we’re actually seeing, and that is why it’s quite hopeful to see what happened in Sweden and how the debate shifted with the teenagers who were deported. I do hope that we will see the same shift in Europe as well.

I also think you need to see the positive things happening in Europe when it comes to the Swedish election, but also the election in Berlin, where you had a very big left-wing party; the election in Copenhagen, a city close to where I live, where the biggest party was the Left Party; and Mamdani in New York. You do have these positive things happening as well.

You have also criticized the prolonged border controls between Sweden and Denmark and warned about allegations of racial profiling. Governments increasingly justify exceptional border measures through migration, crime, or national-security arguments. At what point does a supposedly temporary security measure become a permanent restriction on free movement and equal treatment within the EU?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I live in Malmö, a city close to Denmark. I take the train between Denmark and Sweden almost every week, and there is still this border control that was put in place in 2015. I would say that this is a permanent restriction. It is not allowed according to EU law, and it still goes on and on and on. So, yes, this is a permanent restriction, and that should not be allowed.

The EU Should Show Some Backbone

The EU has traditionally presented itself internationally as a normative power built around democracy, the rule of law, and human rights. Yet critics increasingly point to restrictive migration policies, cooperation with authoritarian governments to stop migration, and inconsistency in the application of international law. Is the EU losing credibility as a normative role model—and how much of that erosion reflects the growing influence of the populist and radical right on mainstream European policy?

MEP Hanna Gedin: Absolutely, the EU is losing its voice when it comes to upholding international law. It’s very important to see that there have always been double standards, in a way, when it comes to the EU, because a lot of countries are still colonial powers.

But now, when you can see the very correct way of handling Russia’s war of aggression in Ukraine—adopting sanction packages and being tough on Russia—that is good. Why do we see this double standard when it comes to Israel? I’m absolutely sure that people see this all around the world, and countries not being part of the EU are then saying, “If the EU does this, why should we adhere to international law?”

We see a complete erosion of international law now, and with the sanctions from the US against the International Criminal Court (ICC), I think the EU should immediately activate the Blocking Statute, show some backbone, and not be as cowardly as we have seen.

One Must Be Critical Toward NATO While Not Being Naive

NATO
NATO headquarters and monument in Brussels, Belgium, the political and administrative center of the North Atlantic Alliance. Photo: Dreamstime.

On Ukraine, you have been unequivocal that Russia’s invasion must be resisted, that Ukraine deserves continued support, and that Europe should stop financing Russia through energy purchases. At the same time, Vänsterpartiet historically opposed Swedish NATO membership. How does the European left build a security policy that is credible against Russian aggression without accepting an open-ended militarization of Europe or abandoning its traditional critique of NATO?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I think one must be able to be critical toward NATO while, at the same time, not being naive. Of course, we live in a very dangerous world, and we need cooperation between countries when it comes to defending ourselves.

My party is not against the augmentation that we have seen in Sweden when it comes to military spending. This should not be taken from schools or hospitals and so on, but we want to impose a wealth tax instead. We also want cooperation between countries, the Nordic countries, and parts of the EU.

I don’t think it’s a smart way to militarize the EU as a side project to NATO and then increase military spending there as well. So, one must be able not to be naive while still being able to criticize the notion of building defense on nuclear bombs and so on. You must be able to do both.

Gaza, Israel, and International Law

You have been one of the European Parliament’s most outspoken critics of Israel’s conduct in Gaza and have called for suspension of the EU–Israel trade relationship, sanctions, and support for international accountability. You and Jonas Sjöstedt were also denied entry by Israel in August. What did that episode tell you about Europe’s leverage over Israel—and why, in your view, has the EU struggled to translate its language of international law into a common policy toward Gaza and the West Bank?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I think that the Swedish government and the EU have been too weak when it comes to Israel. As I said earlier, you need to uphold international law wherever you see crimes against humanity, whether it comes to what happens in Ukraine or what happens in Gaza.

What we see in Gaza is actually a genocide, and you can’t just wait for the ICC or the International Court of Justice (ICJ) to say, “This is a genocide.” You have a responsibility, as countries and as politicians, to prevent genocide, and this has not been done at the EU level.

I find it quite appalling that the EU keeps trading with Israel as if nothing has happened and that there are no consequences when you breach international law. Benjamin Netanyahu has an arrest warrant against him. This should, of course, be reflected in EU relations toward Israel.

Economic Cooperation with Turkey Makes the EU Quite Weak on Human Rights

Women and LGBTQ+ activists in İzmir, Turkey, rally for the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, highlighting femicide and the withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention. Photo: Idil Toffolo.

Your parliamentary work has also addressed repression in Iran, women and girls under Taliban rule in Afghanistan, and the imprisonment of journalists and opposition figures in Turkey. How can the EU demand democratic standards from Iran, Afghanistan, or Turkey while avoiding accusations of selectivity when its economic, migration, or security interests lead it to cooperate with governments accused of serious rights violations?

MEP Hanna Gedin: This is also a problem with double standards. The EU’s economic cooperation with Turkey when it comes to migration, of course, makes the EU quite weak in also pushing for the upholding of human rights in Turkey. So, this is a problem with EU politics that you can see toward many countries—being hijacked when it comes to how to handle these countries.

Focusing on the Cost of Living Is the Only Way

You have repeatedly argued that Europe’s market-liberal framework restricts the public investment needed for the green transition, while rising rents, electricity prices, and living costs have intensified inequality. Radical-right parties have often converted economic insecurity into cultural and anti-migrant grievances. Does the left have to win the material argument—on housing, wages, energy, and welfare—before it can successfully challenge the far right’s politics of identity and resentment?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I think this is the only way, and we saw it in the Swedish election as well. My party, the Swedish Left Party, focused mainly on the cost of living, on issues related to bread and butter, and that is what made us the party that gained the most. That was the biggest success for us. We see it when it comes to EU policies as well. This right-wing environment that we’re living in at the EU level and in many countries, which focuses on cultural issues, makes people poor. You need to be able to focus on the cost of living instead.

In Sweden, during these last years, we have seen an explosion of inequality. We have 46 people in Sweden who own as much as eight million Swedish people, and we have 700,000 poor people in Sweden. The number of poor people has doubled in just a couple of years. This is the reality people are living in, and, of course, for the left, it is about focusing on those real issues—on how to make life nice and good and possible to live, and on reducing inequalities.

Rebuilding a Credible European Left

Finally, the European left faces a strategic dilemma. It wants to confront the radical right without simply reproducing its polarizing style, while also distinguishing itself from centrist parties associated with austerity, market liberalism, and restrictive migration policies. What would a credible European left project look like today—one capable of rebuilding working-class support, defending migrants and minorities, advancing gender equality and climate justice, and at the same time persuading voters who have drifted toward populist and radical-right parties that democratic politics can still materially improve their lives?

MEP Hanna Gedin: I think you need to be very concrete about what you want to change in society. When we talk about taxing the very rich, we get a very good response. For example, we see rising inequalities everywhere, and we need to focus on reducing those inequalities by also focusing on the cost of living, on what people pay in rent, on rising electricity bills, and on the fact that a lot of people are struggling to pay for their food. So, you need to be able to make life a good life without adapting to the far right and their narrative.

MEP Brando Benifei.

MEP Benifei: An Alliance of Interests Between the Extreme Right and Techno-Oligarchs Threatens Our Democracies

MEP Brando Benifei warns that Europe’s struggle for technological sovereignty is inseparable from the defense of democracy. In this ECPS interview, he argues that the EU must strengthen its technological capacity while preserving its regulatory autonomy against external pressure and concentrated corporate power. Benifei stresses that “regulations are decided in Europe, by Europeans, for Europeans” and warns that the extreme right has moved closer to “techno-oligarchs,” forging “a form of alliance and mutual support.” He describes this convergence as “an alliance of interests that is threatening our democracies.” Beyond regulation, Benifei calls for “a democratic reaction” and a “new social contract” capable of making European societies “more equal and freer.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In an era in which technological power, geopolitical rivalry, and democratic vulnerability are increasingly intertwined, the European Union faces a double challenge: strengthening its strategic autonomy while defending the institutional and normative foundations of liberal democracy. Few policy areas illustrate this convergence more clearly than artificial intelligence, digital regulation, platform governance, and transatlantic relations. In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), MEP Brando Benifei, Chair of the European Parliament’s Delegation for Relations with the United States and a central parliamentary figure in the development of the EU Artificial Intelligence Act, reflects on Europe’s technological dependencies, regulatory sovereignty, Big Tech power, disinformation, and the growing political relationship between digital oligarchies and the popuplist radical right.    

At the center of Benifei’s analysis is the argument that Europe’s struggle for sovereignty cannot be reduced to economic competitiveness or technological capacity alone. It also concerns who has the power to establish the rules governing digital societies. He insists that Europe must develop its own technological capabilities while preserving its regulatory autonomy, arguing that “regulations are decided in Europe, by Europeans, for Europeans” and describing this principle as “an absolute red line.” At the same time, he warns that Europe cannot remain merely a regulatory power without developing the technological infrastructure necessary to sustain that role. As he puts it, the EU “can’t remain a regulatory reference if it doesn’t also develop the technological power that is needed today.”    

The interview becomes particularly significant when Benifei turns to the political consequences of concentrated technological power. He argues that the rise of the extreme right is increasingly connected to powerful actors within the technology sector. “The extreme right has been getting closer and closer to these techno-oligarchs,” he says, adding that they have “forged a form of alliance and mutual support.” For Benifei, this convergence now constitutes “an alliance of interests that is threatening our democracies.”    

His response is not limited to regulation. Benifei calls for what he describes as “a democratic reaction” and “the proposal of a new social contract” capable of making societies “more equal and freer.” In his account, inequality and declining freedoms can provide “fertile ground” for an alliance between the extreme right and techno-oligarchs and for what he characterizes as a “hateful and democracy-demolishing approach.”

Against this backdrop, the conversation explores the broader implications of AI governance, algorithmic amplification, digital enforcement, disinformation, transatlantic pressure, and European sovereignty. Benifei’s remarks ultimately frame the contemporary digital struggle not merely as a debate over innovation or regulation, but as a deeper contest over democratic authority, economic power, and the institutional capacity of Europe to determine its own political and technological future.

MEP Brando Benifei is the Chair of the European Parliament’s Delegation for Relations with the United States and a central parliamentary figure in the development of the EU Artificial Intelligence Act. Photo: Umit Vurel.

Here is our interview with MEP Brando Benifei, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Europe Needs to Have a More United Voice

Brando Benifei, welcome! As Chair of the European Parliament’s Delegation for Relations with the United States, you have repeatedly defended a strong transatlantic relationship, while also arguing that Europe must become more capable of defending its own interests. Following renewed US pressure on trade, technology, defense, and digital regulation, has the transatlantic relationship entered a fundamentally more transactional phase? And what would a genuinely more sovereign—but still cooperative—European approach to the United States looks like?

MEP Brando Benifei: I think it’s important to consider that the relationship between the European Union and the United States is based on strong economic integration that has been developing over decades, but also on security, cultural exchange, and social interconnections. In fact, the economic interchange is the biggest between two areas of the world. The EU and the US have not only trade, but also a direct economic presence of EU companies in the US and US companies in the EU. That goes beyond any other similar comparison we could make between the EU and other parts of the world, or the US and other parts of the world, even compared with neighboring South America.

So, this transatlantic relationship is rooted in values and history, but also in economic interests at the moment. We always need to consider that when we look at what has been happening in these last months, where objectively the European Union has been pushed by the US administration to accept certain conditions, for example on trade, based on pressure and on profiting from the fact that the EU is not very united.

The truth is that the European Union is made up of countries that have been divided on issues such as different economic interests. So, the US was able to profit from these divisions to actually push for a relatively punitive regime for trade, which, in the end, was stabilized and ameliorated. It’s not, in the end, what was initially foreseen by President Trump, and it’s something that is viable today, but it’s the result of these pressures. We have also seen pressures regarding environmental legislation and digital legislation.

My point is very clear: we need this relationship. It’s very important that we work in the transatlantic context for various reasons. I tried to mention a few, but we need to demand respect. We need to have a more united voice. The United States doesn’t speak with the voices of its various individual states; it speaks with the federal voice of the United States, the federal administration. The EU should find its own voice, which today is not there.

This is crucial to having a healthier transatlantic relationship, based on respect and equal footing, which today is being put under pressure and called into question by the attitude of President Trump toward the Europeans.

The So-Called Kill Switch Has Already Been Pressed

You have argued that US restrictions on advanced AI chips amount to a direct challenge to Europe’s economic resilience and technological sovereignty, and that dependence on semiconductors, cloud infrastructure, computing power, and critical raw materials can become geopolitical leverage. Does Europe now need to treat AI infrastructure in much the same way it treats energy or defense—as a strategic capability that cannot safely remain overwhelmingly dependent on external powers?

MEP Brando Benifei: It’s crucial that we build more sovereignty on these topics because we have already seen that the so-called kill switch has already been pressed. In fact, the US has restricted the use of advanced models for cybersecurity objectives to the European Union from one day to another, and this was a clear challenge to our sovereignty and our capabilities because we were depending on systems that revealed themselves to be in the hands of another political actor that could really stop us from using them at any moment.

So, today technological sovereignty is one of the crucial points in how we can build a more autonomous EU, which can guarantee the future of its citizens in terms of security and economic prosperity. But this also means using resources today to develop this capability, which means deciding to devote some expenditure to it.

That’s why I support the idea of having a common plan of investment like the one we had after Covid. That’s also the idea in the Draghi report that has not been picked up by the member states, but that’s a very big mistake because we need that leverage today to invest in accelerating innovation for sovereignty and to guarantee that the EU has its own alternatives.

This doesn’t mean we need autarky or protectionism. It means we need the European Union to always be able to have alternatives when it becomes unviable to continue with the existing technological solutions.

Photo: Bustiuc Dumitru / Dreamstime.

Europe Can’t Remain a Regulatory Reference Without Technological Power

In your 2026 report on AI and EU trade, you argue that Europe must combine competitiveness, openness, and strategic autonomy rather than relying on regulation alone. Yet the EU still trails the United States and China in computing capacity, investment, cloud infrastructure, and AI scale. Can Europe realistically remain a global regulatory power if it does not also become a substantially stronger technological and industrial power?

MEP Brando Benifei: My opinion is that it can’t. It can’t remain a regulatory reference if it doesn’t also develop the technological power that is needed today, and this is a crucial point on which a lot of our efforts should be concentrated. In fact, the European Commission has taken some steps with the proposal of a digital sovereignty package, which was something that we could not imagine before. It’s the result of a new situation, and this package addresses important issues like semiconductors, cloud infrastructure, and open-source models. So, it goes deep into our present dependencies and tries to build an alternative.

But to pursue this agenda, we need political resolve. We need the willingness to actually go down a road that will create some tension with the US, with China, and with other powers. We need to know that. We need to be ready to sustain that through dialogue, obviously keeping a door open for discussion with all our counterparts, but having a clear objective of creating more European autonomy and sovereignty.

This is something that our citizens also want. If you look at the polling and surveys, our citizens are saying, “We want a more sovereign Europe. We do not want to depend on foreign technology.” It’s important that our governments listen to our citizens, who are saying this very clearly.

Regulatory Sovereignty as a Red Line

You have criticized US tariff pressure as potentially targeting not only European economic interests but also the regulatory and social model itself. Where should the EU draw the line between legitimate transatlantic negotiation and external pressure to dilute European rules on digital markets, food safety, environmental protection, data, or fundamental rights? Can regulatory sovereignty become one of the defining fault lines in future EU-US relations?

MEP Brando Benifei: Maintaining the principle that regulations are decided in Europe, by Europeans, for Europeans is an absolute red line. We cannot negotiate on legislation that is based on democratic processes. This is something that the US must understand, and I have to say that they have understood it at this moment. They knew that this attempt—to actually convince us to change legislation based only on their pressure—would be difficult for them.

We need to look realistically at the content of these pressures because, in some cases, they reflect existing dynamics in the European political scenario. I give you an example: the pressures to change some of the EU’s environmental legislation were, in fact, already sustained by legitimate political decisions inside the EU by political actors. So, this is a topic where we have seen some things changing in a way that the US liked, but it was, in fact, based on a political positioning inside the EU that was not related to US pressure.

On other topics, like digital legislation, however, there are clearly greater differences between what the US is asking of the EU and what the EU is ready to do based on its regulatory autonomy. This must be understood, this must be accepted, and we need to keep this as a clear red line because we cannot negotiate on our regulatory autonomy.

The Brussels Effect, at Least at the Company Level, Is Already Happening

European Parliament offices and European flags in Brussels, Belgium on July 20, 2020. Photo: Lena Wurm.

You were one of the central parliamentary architects of the AI Act, and you continue to argue that Europe should promote a human-centric, risk-based model internationally. After several years of implementation debates, do you still believe that the so-called “Brussels effect” can shape global AI governance, or are divergent US, Chinese, and other models making regulatory convergence increasingly unrealistic?

MEP Brando Benifei: Clearly, regulatory divergence is an obstacle to this kind of convergence through the so-called Brussels effect. But let’s look at the data. We have researchers from important European foundations who have conducted scientifically sound surveys with American companies, showing that the AI Act has been taken as a reference point for voluntary compliance schemes, including by companies operating only inside the US.

So, the Brussels effect, at least at the company level, is already happening. That’s one of the dimensions of the Brussels effect, because it’s not only governments taking the same stances, but also companies voluntarily adopting ways of acting that reflect legislation that is not present in their internal jurisdiction but is, in fact, taken from the EU.

The decision could be linked to various reasons: operating in a global market or wanting to have easy-to-apply schemes that can be replicated globally. In fact, this is happening with US companies developing and deploying AI. The data are clear, and this shows that our approach has not been very bureaucratic or extremely complex, but rather quite company friendly.

I want to underline that a significant role for self-assessment has been built into the regulatory framework of the AI Act. Companies are entrusted with responsibility, but they are not asked to undergo a lot of third-party assessments, which is instead the case for other product-safety legislation, because we wanted to maintain some flexibility in this AI legislation, considering the quickly changing technological scenario.

So, I see some Brussels effect happening. Obviously, we are also looking more specifically—this is a slower process—at the adoption of similar legislation in other parts of the world. This is also happening. There are many parts of the world that, in recent months, have adopted legislation on AI content transparency, copyright protection, and countering AI abuse for mass surveillance that has been taken quite directly from the EU AI Act.

The AI Act and European Competitiveness

You have warned against presenting deregulation as the principal route to European competitiveness, arguing instead for investment, industrial policy, stronger European AI institutions, and better support for start-ups and Small and Medium-sized Enterprises (SMEs). How do you respond to the growing political argument that the AI Act and other digital regulations have become a competitive burden that Europe can no longer afford?

MEP Brando Benifei: In my opinion, we should listen to those who develop AI in Europe, because otherwise we are talking in a very abstract way. Those who develop AI in Europe tell us what their problems are and why they are not growing enough. One issue is access to capital, so we need an integrated capital market where more risk capital is flowing. They also face a lack of access to computational infrastructure. We are dealing with that through AI factories and AI gigafactories, but we need to accelerate.

They also say they have an issue with regulatory complexity, but this relates mainly to data legislation—the use of data—which is not linked to the AI Act. In general, they recognize that the AI Act protects them from abuses by bigger companies, often non-European ones, that do not want to share information and want to avoid transparency.

In fact, the AI Act is generally supported by those companies. When they look at the regulatory burden, they are more concerned about the overall amount of legislation, and more specifically about data, where they want further reform. This is what we are also working on at the EU level at the moment: simplifying data legislation.

They also want clearer, more harmonized enforcement. The problem today with the EU is very fragmented enforcement, where we still have rules that are too dependent on national implementation. This is something that I see as one of the crucial priorities.

And I don’t understand how we can sustain the argument that the problem would be the AI Act, considering that the AI Act applies to all companies that operate in Europe and sell products in Europe. This means that it is overwhelmingly more applicable to non-European companies, which make up the majority of those operating in the EU today on AI matters.

Open-Source AI and Digital Sovereignty

Image: Wrightstudio / Dreamstime.

You have described open-source AI as a “structural response” to the concentration of compute, cloud, and data in a handful of firms. Could open-source AI become a genuine pillar of European digital sovereignty, or is Europe still too dependent on non-European hardware, cloud providers, foundation models, and capital for open-source ecosystems alone to materially change the balance of power?

MEP Brando Benifei: We are still too dependent on these closed systems, and in fact, we need to build a better balance with open-source and open-weights models. This is something that is now a focus, and the EU’s open-source strategy will also deal with that. We are working on this, starting from the European Commission’s sovereignty package, and the EU is now concentrating more on it.

We are building some alternatives. We are working on this in terms of adoption, but also in terms of development in Europe, and that’s a way we need to pursue to rebalance the situation.

This is also something where we need to build more consciousness, more awareness, and more training on how to deal with this among our operators, our public administrations, and our entrepreneurs, because this is a way to rebalance power and to avoid the concentration of resources and power that we see today. That is an objective risk in how our AI is being developed today.

The Rules Need to Be Applied More Forcefully

Your interventions repeatedly emphasize that rules in the digital sphere will exist one way or another—the question is whether they are created democratically or effectively dictated by large technology companies. Have major digital platforms and monopolistic Big Tech actors acquired a form of quasi-constitutional power over speech, information visibility, political mobilization, and even democratic participation? If so, is existing EU law sufficient to constrain this concentration of private power?

MEP Brando Benifei: Many of the laws of the European Union are already capable of constraining this, but they need to be applied more forcefully. The point is the political will to apply the rules in a way that is not constrained by other political considerations, such as avoiding retaliation or political problems.

This means that we need more independence in how the rules are applied, and this is something we are discussing in the European Parliament. There is a discussion about building a digital enforcement agency that could bring more independent enforcement of the rules and depoliticize their application.

Today, this means overcoming the restraint on applying the rules in the right way and in the strong way needed to actually pursue this objective: having the rules really applied, not only conceived abstractly, but applied by democratic powers, and not decided among themselves by the strongest private actors, mostly non-European.

We Should Tackle Both Disinformation and the Algorithmic Structure

In discussing the European Democracy Shield, you argued that “democracy does not fall in one day” but can be dismantled “one post at a time,” and you stressed that the problem is not only foreign interference but also the platform business model itself, in which algorithms reward anger and polarization. Should Europe therefore stop treating disinformation primarily as a problem of false content and focus more directly on the underlying algorithmic architecture that systematically amplifies polarizing material?

MEP Brando Benifei: I think we should look at both sides because disinformation content can be extremely harmful even if we do not have addictive-design algorithms. So, we need to look at the content, but also, obviously, at the risks of the addictive construction of algorithms, which is being targeted by new legislation: the Kids Act for minors, but also the Digital Fairness Act for adults at large.

The way we are leading on this is extremely important, and this is something where we need this new legislation to be in place and integrated with the existing norms that focus more on disinformation content rather than on the algorithmic structure. The algorithmic structure also needs to be tackled with clear action, like these new proposals that are on the table. 

One of them is already there, the Kids Act. The Digital Fairness Act, which is getting through very soon, will deal with these issues and should be an important piece in completing our digital regulation architecture.

Democratic Reaction Needed Against the Alliance Between the Extreme Right and Techno-Oligarchs

Anti-Trump protesters.
Anti-Trump protesters gather across from Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue during the annual Labor Day Parade in Midtown Manhattan, New York City, on September 6, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

You have explicitly warned that platform ownership and algorithmic amplification can assist far-right actors, citing Elon Musk’s intervention in German politics as an example. To what extent is the contemporary rise of the populist and radical right inseparable from the transformation of the digital information environment? Are we looking at a political phenomenon that traditional party competition alone can no longer adequately explain?

MEP Brando Benifei: There is clearly a link to these phenomena because we see that the extreme right has been getting closer and closer to these techno-oligarchs, and they have forged a form of alliance and mutual support. This is where we are standing now: an alliance of interests that is threatening our democracies.

I think it’s important that we react not only with rules, obviously, and with actions to tackle the most pernicious practices, but also with a democratic reaction, with the proposal of a new social contract where we are able to allow our societies to become more equal and freer. Because this is the context—with more unequal societies and less free societies—in which we see the nurturing of this hateful and democracy-demolishing approach that has become the fertile ground for this alliance between the extreme right and techno-oligarchs.

AI Companies Don’t Want to Be Regulated

And lastly, Mr. Benifei, populist radical right and far-right parties increasingly frame EU digital regulation, anti-disinformation measures, judicial independence, minority protections, and constraints on majoritarian power as forms of censorship or technocratic control. Is the central struggle now becoming one over the very meaning of democracy—between a liberal-constitutional conception based on rights and institutional restraints and a more plebiscitary or majoritarian conception of popular sovereignty?

MEP Brando Benifei: I find it honestly ridiculous, and I have said it many times, with a frank attitude toward my American interlocutors, that we hear from certain institutions or think tanks, especially American ones, that we are censoring and that there is no freedom of expression in Europe, while we have seen censorship happening very explicitly in the US. At the same time, we haven’t seen any of these kinds of actions and attacks from the US toward countries where there is no freedom of expression, there are no elections, there are limitations on anything that can be said, and you can end up in jail for real.

This has been a clear contradiction in the approach from the US, which makes it clear that, in this very extreme representation of the issue, there is instead a specific economic interest—a specific interest coming from companies that just don’t want to be regulated.

We need to take the discussion about freedom of expression seriously and avoid rules that also create, involuntarily, forms of censorship that are not needed. I take that very seriously. But the way this topic has been framed by American interlocutors, especially by the Trump administration has not been credible, and I’ve been very clear with them that they need to make a better case for us to be convinced of the benefit.

Professor Natália Sátyro.

Prof. Sátyro: Bolsonarismo Has Already Become Bigger Than Bolsonaro Himself

In an interview with ECPS, Professor Natália Sátyro argues that Brazil’s 2026 presidential election reflects a conflict extending far beyond the Lula–Flávio Bolsonaro runoff. At its center is a Bolsonarismo that, she says, “has already become bigger than Bolsonaro himself”—a durable movement combining neoconservative cultural politics, neoliberalism, anti-system mobilization, and competing notions of who deserves state protection. Professor Sátyro examines how family, religion, gender, race, class, and welfare policy have become intertwined in this struggle, contrasting Bolsonarismo’s “familialism by default” with a more state-centered social-protection model. Ultimately, she sees Brazil confronting two competing projects: “one very conservative and neoliberal, and the other more progressive and focused on social justice,” with profound implications for democracy, citizenship, and social rights.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Brazil’s 2026 presidential election has become more than a contest between President Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro. It has developed into a struggle over competing conceptions of democracy, citizenship, social protection, family, gender relations, and the role of the state. The first round placed Flávio Bolsonaro at 47 percent and Lula at 45.1 percent, sending the election to an October 25 runoff. Against this backdrop, Professor Natália Sátyro, Professor of Political Science in the Department of Political Science at the Federal University of Minas Gerais (UFMG), brings to the debate a distinctive perspective grounded in her scholarship on family policy, social protection, institutional change, state capacity, gender, and minority access to welfare.

At the center of Professor Sátyro’s analysis is the argument captured in the headline of this interview: “Bolsonarismo has already become bigger than Bolsonaro himself.” In her view, Bolsonarismo has developed into “a strong movement with neoconservative characteristics” and “a powerful neoliberal appeal,” combining anti-PT and anti-system politics with a differentiated conception of state protection for those considered deserving and undeserving. She argues that its electoral advance has come not only at the expense of the left but also of Brazil’s traditional mainstream right, making Bolsonarismo, in her words, “certainly here to stay.”    

The durability of Bolsonarismo, Professor Sátyro suggests, cannot be understood solely through electoral competition. It is embedded in a broader cultural and institutional project in which the family occupies a central place. She describes an “explicit defense of a traditional patriarchal type of family” and emphasizes the political importance of evangelical networks in mobilizing support around family, gender, sexuality, education, and moral order. For Professor Sátyro, the cleavage is therefore not simply between cultural conservatism and redistribution. “What is at stake today,” she argues, “is democracy versus something non-democratic

Her analysis also brings welfare-state politics into this broader conflict. Professor Sátyro characterizes the Bolsonaro project as one of “familialism by default,” in which “the family and the market should be the pillars of social protection in Brazil.” This model, she argues, reinforces gendered caregiving roles and deepens class inequalities because affluent families can purchase care in the market while poorer families depend more heavily on extended family and community networks.   

Ultimately, Professor Sátyro sees Brazil as confronting two competing political projects: “one very conservative and neoliberal, and the other more progressive and focused on social justice.” The runoff, therefore, is not merely about presidential succession. It raises a larger question about what kind of citizenship, welfare regime, social order, and democratic state Brazil will seek to consolidate in the years ahead.

Here is our interview with Professor Natália Sátyro, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Bolsonarismo Is Certainly Here to Stay

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

Professor Sátyro, welcome, and thank you for joining us. Let me begin with Bolsonarism itself: Flávio Bolsonaro finished the first round ahead of Lula, while Bolsonarist candidates also performed strongly in congressional and gubernatorial contests. Does this suggest that Bolsonarism has become an institutionalized political identity capable of surviving Jair Bolsonaro’s personal leadership?

Professor Natália Sátyro: First of all, it’s important to emphasize that I’m not an expert on elections or political behavior, but I have no doubt that Bolsonarismo has already become bigger than Bolsonaro himself. It’s a strong movement with neoconservative characteristics and certainly a powerful neoliberal appeal. But, as I did show in the book, it embraces two conceptions of the state: one for those deemed deserving and another for those deemed undeserving. Essentially, however, it is an anti-PT—the Workers’ Party—and anti-system movement with strong popular appeal.

In the absence of a satisfactory response from the left over these 20 years, this far-right movement has defeated both the left and the mainstream right at the same time. Traditional and mainstream right-wing parties have shrunk, apparently irreversibly. In this election, even the Centrão, what we call the “Big Center” or broad bloc, which consists of transactional parties has lost ground. So, it’s a massive win for the far right.

We therefore need to understand this powerful movement in our society better and not think that it is unique to the Brazilian political arena at this moment. However, in Brazil, Bolsonarismo is certainly here to stay. It is strongly inspired by fascism. It is no coincidence that its first proposed move is to co-opt the judiciary.

I read recently that what is happening in Brazil and around the world is a far-right cultural revolution. The huge change that we need to study better—that description fits what we are seeing. Each country is identifying its enemies and determining its own setbacks.

There Is an Explicit Defense of a Traditional Patriarchal Type of Family

Your work shows how strongly family policy reflects the ideological project of the government in power. Does the Lula–Flávio Bolsonaro runoff represent two fundamentally different conceptions of the family and its relationship to the state?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Yes, absolutely. There is an explicit defense of a traditional patriarchal type of family, with no room for the diversity of family arrangements that is already part of our society. Bolsonaro has massive support from the Evangelical Church, and there is no doubt that this is one source of his power and broader reach. It is one of the mechanisms used for electoral mobilization.

Yet, this entire defense is deeply contradictory in itself because Bolsonaro, the father, has been married three times, and Flávio Bolsonaro’s running mate—the future vice president—has been accused of raping a five-year-old child. So, we are talking about a hypocritical defense. The fact remains, however, that any non-traditional family arrangement will, at the very least, receive less attention from public policy.

In Brazil today, 52% of households are headed by women. This is equivalent to 41 million female-headed families in a population of 214 million. As I showed in the book, during Bolsonaro’s time in office, all concepts of family other than the traditional one were removed from official documents, as were any references to gender issues. In other words, despite the actual composition of our families, the type of arrangement being defended is already a minority one.

What Is at Stake Today Is Democracy Versus Something Non-Democratic

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

You describe the Bolsonaro period as a “neoconservative turn” that elevated the traditional family and gender roles. Is this family-centered cultural politics still one of Bolsonarism’s strongest mechanisms of electoral mobilization in 2026?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Yes, that is the point I tried to make before, because this family-centered cultural politics is very closely linked with the Evangelical Church project. I have no doubt that they are very strongly territorialized in Brazil and that, for sure, this is one of the mechanisms for electoral mobilization. Not only in 2026; since 2018, this has already been mapped in the literature.

Can the second round be understood as a contest between Bolsonarism’s culturally conservative politics of identity and moral order, and Lulism’s emphasis on redistribution and social protection? To what extent is this divide still structured by class, and how far is it now mediated by religion and family values?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Analytically, that is what is happening, but it is more than that, because it is not limited to conservatism versus redistribution. What is at stake today is democracy versus something non-democratic. When Lula won in 2022, his coalition included former rivals from the far right that existed before Bolsonaro and what united that entire spectrum was a commitment to the rule of law.

The election was characterized by a contest between those who defend democracy and democratic institutions and those who openly spoke against the democratic regime, defending military dictatorship, torture, and a coup. That is the scenario once again. Flávio Bolsonaro performed well electorally without talking about his political project itself. Yet there are slogans directed against the Supreme Federal Court and the Federal Constitution of 1988.

That said, I will return to the core of your questions. Yes, there is a cultural war centered on the family and moral issues. The candidate for governor of Espírito Santo, one state in the Southeast, who is expected to win in the runoff now, was the politician who intervened to prevent an abortion for an 11-year-old girl who had been raped and was pregnant.

Amid all this, there is also the interesting ability of Brazilians to make jokes in difficult situations. There is now an online wave of gays and trans people saying that if Bolsonaro wins, they will expose heterosexuals who are not real ones. In some cases, they are already doing so. These are examples of the cultural and moral war that we are living now. Of course, I have just taken two instances, but it is spread across the digital and virtual debate today. It’s not only in the literature, but we can see it even in the cooperative media.

The Entire LGBTQI+ Community Is at Risk

Your research emphasizes that Brazilian governments differ not simply in how much they support families, but in what kind of family they recognize. How politically consequential is this distinction for women, single-parent families, LGBTQ+ citizens, and other non-traditional family arrangements?

Professor Natália Sátyro: As I said, if what we are discussing is democracy rather than competing government programs or projects, we can imagine the imminent risk—in other words, a civilizational setback. In a conservative society, the entire LGBTQI+ community is at risk. The study that I have recently shows how transphobic our society is. 

Your recent research finds that transphobia can operate through street-level discretion in social assistance, restricting transgender citizens’ access to rights. How vulnerable are minority protections when political polarization legitimizes competing moral definitions of deservingness and citizenship?

Professor Natália Sátyro: As I said, if what we are discussing is democracy rather than competing government programs, you can imagine the imminent risk—in other words, a civilizational setback. In a conservative society, the entire LGBTQI+ community is at risk. The study in question shows how transphobic our society actually is, while other studies show that it is conservative, racist, hostile to poor people, and now fascist as well. This is cultural. The far right has found fertile ground and, in addition, is better than the left at using social media.

To answer your question directly, I would consider two dimensions. In terms of public policy, the answer is straightforward. I have no doubt that policies for this population have been dismantled and, for the most part, terminated. He has already promised to privatize everything possible and make the deepest cuts he can. So, it’s a very clear project.

But Bolsonaro and Bolsonarism are violent. They want to eliminate the enemy almost literally. That is why I call it fascism, despite the conceptual imprecision. The level of insecurity experienced by minority groups is therefore very high.

In 1968, one of the harshest years of Brazil’s military dictatorship, when Institutional Act Number Five was promulgated, constitutional rights and habeas corpus were suspended. A remark by Vice President Pedro Aleixo became well known. He was the only one who voted against this act, and his words are still quoted today in Brazil. Referring to the act, he said, “The problem with a law like this is not you”—he was addressing the president at the time—“nor those who govern the country. The problem is the policeman on the street corner.”

Thus, a government like the one Flávio Bolsonaro would lead, modeled on his father’s, would authorize everyday violence against these people. I have no doubt that this would be a civilizational setback, together with no protection for them from the government or from the rule of law.

Brazilian Society Has Always Been Conservative

Supporters of Flávio Bolsonaro gather.
Supporters of Flávio Bolsonaro gather on Avenida Paulista in São Paulo for an Independence Day rally under the slogan “Brazil Will Win.” Photo: Dreamstime.

The Bolsonaro governments promoted a heteronormative, patriarchal conception of family while seeking to roll back rights associated with sexual and gender minorities. To what extent has this become a durable component of Brazilian right-wing populism rather than merely a Bolsonaro-era policy agenda?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Studies from the 1990s show that Brazilian society has always been conservative. Other studies from the 2000s showed that even poor people were conservative, which is one reason Lula took so long to win the presidency. Unfortunately, I do not think this will end easily. To respond directly to your question, these people used to be ashamed, and they are still ashamed. Recent polls refer to a shy vote: voters who do not discuss or talk about their choice but vote for Flávio Bolsonaro.

Brazilian society is deeply marked by slavery, and its traces remain. White people struggle to acknowledge improvements in the well-being of poor people. Recent opinion polls from Quaest, conducted less than a month ago, show that the middle class feels it has not gained much under Lula’s government, although it has not lost either, but they resent improvements experienced by the poor classes. So, it’s a kind of class conflict as well.

The difference between now and 38 years ago is that half of the population now knows its rights, and our minorities have learned during these 38 years because last week the Constitution marked 38 years of our democracy. This part of the population now knows about their citizenship. They know that they are citizens. I can’t say that, at the end of the 80s and the beginning of the 90s, it was so clear what citizenship was for most people.

The other side, however, wants to return to a time that was even close to slavery. I am saying that because elected senators are already saying they will abolish labor laws, that working 16 hours a day is acceptable, and that workers can negotiate such working conditions directly with their employers. This is also a culture war.

It’s a change, but it is also undoubtedly a class and racial conflict. For example, the Northeast votes overwhelmingly for Lula; the white South of the country votes for Flávio Bolsonaro. People in South Brazil see themselves as white and do not see Northeast Brazilians as white, and they see them as undeserving people.

Lula, the Left, and Mobilizing Younger Voters

Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva walks among supporters on Augusta Street at São Paulo on the eve of the brazillian election on October 1, 2022. Photo: Yuri Murakami.

Conversely, the PT governments expanded social participation, women’s rights, racial-equality agendas, and policies directed toward vulnerable groups. Can Lula still mobilize these constituencies as effectively when his present coalition is broader and more politically constrained?

Professor Natália Sátyro: We will find out in two weeks whether he can mobilize enough people to turn the result around. There is no doubt that he mobilized these groups effectively, but the left in general has difficulty communicating with young people specifically. My generation failed to teach them that democracy and social rights can never be taken for granted.

A generation that grew up with universal public health care does not understand what a world without it would be. Research shows that young people are dissatisfied with the well-being produced by redistributive policies. They want more. They want the world of influencers from TikTok—a world of wealth that does not reflect the reality of Brazil.

In addition, the left has not yet gone digital, including in its campaign, as the right and far right have. The Brazilian left uses social media poorly and has not yet understood the power of the virtual world, at least so far, either to mobilize or to understand its impact on people.

The fact is that the PT, the Workers’ Party, has grown old just as Lula has. However, Lula made a very smart move on the eve of the election. He did not attend the debate on the country’s largest television network. It’s a very traditional one. Instead, he gave an interview to a podcast that is more right-wing than left; it’s not a left-wing channel, and it reaches young people outside this left bubble. In his closing remarks, he challenged young people, saying that if they think all politicians are corrupt, they should enter politics and do their part.

I don’t know whether this was the reason, but since Monday, social media has been flooded with messages about how to increase online engagement, and students and young people are taking to the streets across Brazil. There is a different mobilization underway. We will see whether it persuades some part of the 33 million people who do not vote, many of whom are young. The source is Jairo Nicolau, a political scientist who studied this. Nicolau said that most of the people who do not vote are young.

Lula remains particularly strong among poorer voters and beneficiaries of social programs. Does this indicate the continuing resilience of Lulism as a class-based social-protection coalition, or has redistribution become increasingly filtered through cultural and religious identities?

Professor Natália Sátyro: It’s a class-based social protection. Actually, this new religious identity has certainly changed the cultural and political scene in Brazil. It means that changes in culture and in the way, people see public policy are very important explanatory factors.

Evangelicals, Family, and the Seven Mountains

Brazil’s electoral divide also has a strong religious dimension, with Bolsonarism particularly strong among evangelicals and Lula stronger among Catholics. How has the politics of family transformed religious belonging into a broader political cleavage over gender, sexuality, education, and social order?

Professor Natália Sátyro: I am not sure if I can answer that question. It is very sociological for a political scientist. But studies show that evangelicals in Brazil have had a project of political power since at least the year 2000. It seeks to occupy the seven mountains: family, religion, education, politics, media, arts and entertainment, and business. So, your question makes perfect sense. The family is central to this project and is an institution to be preserved. This means that any arrangement that departs from these values is seen as a threat to this project, and every threat must be eliminated. This is the point that I was trying to make before with the LGBTQIA+ and other communities. I think it is on the same page here.

Your work distinguishes “familialism by default” from “supported familialism.” Where would you place the competing social-policy projects represented by the Lula and Bolsonaro camps along this continuum, and what do their differences reveal about the role assigned to the state, the family, and gender relations in Brazil’s welfare regime?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Bolsonaro would be strongly on the side of familialism by default, not the supported one, because of conservatism and the whole project of the Evangelical Church: women as caregivers and men as providers. Therefore, the advances made in recent years will certainly be lost. For example, since 2023, we have had a national care policy. But there will be no retrenchment; there will be termination of this policy, which is so central to social protection. So, it has a very low probability of surviving.

The emphasis among evangelicals and in what is called the far-right project is that the family and the market should be the pillars of social protection in Brazil. However, this brings with it a class divide. Rich people turn to the market, either by hiring a poor woman as a maid—usually a Black one—to care for those who need care, or by using services from the market, such as daycare centers and nursing homes. The poor, meanwhile, have to rely on extended family and community networks.

Public services will become increasingly precarious, and healthcare will be privatized under Bolsonaro. I have no doubt about that.

The Setback Is Therefore Already Looming

Flávio Bolsonaro.
Senator Flávio Bolsonaro during a pro-amnesty demonstration in support of former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo | Dreamstime.

Your work on Brazilian social assistance stresses the importance of state capacity and federal coordination. How much would either candidate actually be able to redirect social and family policy given Brazil’s federal structure, congressional constraints, and uneven municipal capacities?

Professor Natália Sátyro: To answer these questions, we need to understand the elections in the first place. The far right has a majority in both houses. To give you an idea, in the Chamber of Deputies alone, the Bolsonaro party, the PL, will now hold 121 seats, representing 24 percent of the total. It’s only this party, and then, together with the others on the far right, they would be able to form a qualified majority relatively easily, which would even allow them to make constitutional amendments. The setback is therefore already looming. But a Lula victory would at least act as a brake because he could work with the judiciary to constrain congressional action. This is one point.

Regarding the policies that are the focus of your questions, it is important to remember how the Brazilian Federation is structured. Federative entities are politically autonomous, so municipalities can independently determine a policy if they want to and have the capacity to do so. The literature shows that they usually cannot. It distinguishes policymaking from policy decision-making because of the level of policy capacity of the municipalities. In other words, most municipalities depend on funding from the federal government.

However, the cited study found that during the presidency of Bolsonaro, the father, municipalities kept social assistance services operating even without federal funding because they are politically autonomous. Thus, to consider what the elected candidate may do, it’s important to consider both the composition of this new Congress and the autonomy of the municipalities and states.

I have no doubt about family policy. I already said that they will terminate it. If we think about conditional cash transfers, they will be different from services. Public services directed to families will survive only if municipalities put in their own financial resources, their own budget.

Thirty-Three Million People Did Not Go to the Polls

Looking toward the second round, which social cleavage deserves the closest attention: class, religion, race, gender, region, or attitudes toward the family—and how do these cleavages intersect rather than operate independently?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Thirty-three million people did not go to the polls, even though voting is compulsory in Brazil. Lula’s campaign is focusing, as I told you, strongly on young people and older adults, since they were the groups with the highest abstention rates. First, people over 70 are no longer required to vote.

I read research from yesterday saying that a huge number of women, poor women, are no longer required to vote and did not go to the polls, but they will certainly be affected by cuts, given that Bolsonaro has said he will change Social Security. So, one of the points is that Lula is trying to reach this part of the population. This would mean not adjusting—these cuts that I told you about mean not adjusting pensions and making it harder to enter the system.

There is also a strong campaign targeting women, who make up the majority of the electorate. The increase in Bolsa Família benefits is due to begin on October 19, before the runoff. The suspension of online betting, which was permitted by Bolsonaro and has now been suspended by Lula by decree, was also a measure aimed at this audience, that is, women.

Bolsonaro, meanwhile, is already speaking as if he had won and has been addressing the market, while emphasizing how he will cut the budget. So, for Lula, his aim is young people, women, and the elderly in the population because of the abstention.

Finally, Professor Sátyro, beyond the question of who wins the runoff, does the first-round result suggest that Brazil is consolidating two competing models of citizenship—one centered on social inclusion and state-backed protection, and another combining conservative family values, market-oriented responsibility, and populist cultural mobilization?

Professor Natália Sátyro: Yes, I have no doubt. I think my previous answers have already addressed that. We are really at a moment when we will choose between these two projects for Brazil. Today, we are a divided society between these two: one very conservative and neoliberal, and the other more progressive and focused on social justice. We will see in two weeks which one of them will win.

Professor Daniel Schlozman.

Prof. Schlozman: American Voters Are Tired of Trumpism

In this ECPS interview, Professor Daniel Schlozman examines the 2026 US midterms through the deeper crisis of American party organization. While arguing that “voters are tired of Trumpism,” he cautions that Democratic gains may reflect electoral fatigue rather than durable realignment. The interview traces Trumpism’s roots in long-standing currents on the American right, the centrality of immigration, the accommodation between populism and concentrated wealth, and structural vulnerabilities in the constitutional order. On the Democratic side, Professor Schlozman stresses class dealignment, weakened institutional loyalties, and the limits of policy “deliverism.” His central lesson is organizational: political loyalties are built through lived collective experience, and durable democratic politics ultimately requires renewed institutions, participation, and deep party organization.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As the United States approaches the November 3, 2026 midterm elections, the political landscape is marked by an unusual convergence of electoral fatigue, institutional strain, partisan asymmetry, and organizational weakness. In this wide-ranging ECPS interview, Professor Daniel Schlozman, Joseph and Bertha Bernstein Professor in the Department of Political Science at Johns Hopkins University, situates the midterms within a much longer transformation of the American party system. His central diagnosis is strikingly concise: “Voters are tired of Trumpism.” Yet Professor Schlozman is careful to distinguish electoral fatigue from a deeper realignment. Even if Democrats perform strongly, he argues, such gains may reflect “much more a reaction against an incumbent who’s been around for a long time than the stirring of Democratic forces” capable of generating a durable alternative.    

That distinction frames the interview’s broader inquiry into Trumpism, MAGA, and the condition of American democracy. Professor Schlozman emphasizes continuity as much as rupture: Trump, he argues, emerged from “long-standing currents on the American right,” even as anti-immigration became perhaps the most consequential innovation in the contemporary Republican coalition. At the same time, the Republican Party’s transformation cannot be understood solely through ideology. Trumpism combines leader-centered populism, anti-immigration politics, cultural resentment, and alliances with concentrated economic power. As Professor Schlozman puts it, the contemporary tech elite has “basically made its peace with Trumpism,” creating a political configuration in which populist attacks on cultural elites can coexist with plutocratic power.

The interview then turns to the institutional foundations of democratic resilience. Professor Schlozman argues that the vulnerabilities exposed by Trumpism are not wholly new: “the Madisonian system … was always vulnerable.” The Supreme Court, presidential power, the pardon authority, Senate malapportionment, and the difficulty of constitutional amendment all reveal structural weaknesses that make a simple return to the pre-Trump status quo inadequate. For Professor Schlozman, the deeper problem is not merely constitutional design but the erosion of political organizations capable of translating interests into durable loyalties.   

This is especially visible on the Democratic side. Working-class voters, he observes, are no longer being politically formed “in the union hall and the clubhouse”; increasingly, “they’re getting educated on TikTok.” His critique of Biden-era “deliverism” follows directly from this diagnosis: material benefits alone cannot generate political attachment when parties lack institutions embedded in voters’ everyday lives. “Political loyalties,” Professor Schlozman insists, “are made through the experiences of voters’ actual lives and the ways they see themselves in political collectivities.”   

Across the discussion—from the DNC and party gatekeeping to democratic socialism, Zohran Mamdani, unions, civic associations, and digital political life—Professor Schlozman returns repeatedly to the same institutional imperative. Elections can be won through money, advertising, and mobilization, but durable politics requires something deeper. As he puts it, “If you want a politics that’s more durable than that, you go back to institutions and institution building.” The interview ultimately asks whether American democracy can rebuild those forms of organization before electoral competition becomes ever more personalized, fragmented, and detached from durable collective life.

Here is our interview with Professor Daniel Schlozman, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

These Midterms Are Not the Most Important Elections of Our Lifetime

US elections.
Early voting sign directing voters to an in-person polling location in Wood-Ridge, New Jersey, USA, May 26, 2026. Photo: Erin Alexis Randolph / Dreamstime.

Professor Schlozman, welcome! Let me begin with the broader stakes of the November 3 midterms. You and Sam Rosenfeld describe contemporary American parties as “hollow,” but argue that this hollowness manifests asymmetrically—as Democratic organizational weakness on one side and Republican extremism on the other. With the House narrowly divided and the Senate also highly competitive, should we understand the 2026 midterms primarily as an ordinary contest over congressional control, or as a test of whether elections can still provide an effective institutional constraint on an increasingly personalized presidency?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: Midterm elections in the United States tend to have this phenomenon called midterm loss, where the president’s party loses seats. In particular, this happens in the so-called “six-year itch,” after a president has been in power for six years. Donald Trump has been president for six years and has now dominated national politics for a decade. That’s what we’re seeing.

Trump is unpopular. He is basically not unpopular for the reasons that political scientists worry about his democratic erosion. He’s unpopular because the cost of goods and services is high, because he’s launched this war in Iran that nobody likes, and because his old tricks don’t seem to be working anymore. Voters are tired of Trumpism.

If Democrats do well, which it seems like they will—almost certainly recapture the House and probably take the Senate, or more likely than not take the Senate—the right way to describe the polls is that this is much more a reaction against an incumbent who’s been around for a long time than the stirring of Democratic forces that opponents of Trumpism as a phenomenon might hope for.

There are two other things to say. First, these midterms are not the most important elections of our lifetime. That was 2016. That was the arrival of Trump and the demonstration that this right populism had enough purchase to make it again, and then in 2024.

Yes, it means that Trump, who doesn’t have much of a legislative agenda to start with, will have even fewer options in his last two years. Yes, if a justice on the Supreme Court retires, Democrats have some leverage. But there’s only so much that we can say about the midterms.

The other is, not unrelatedly, that midterm elections tend not to be predictive of what happens in two years, and there are plenty of examples of parties that have really good midterms and then go on not to win the presidency two years later.

Neither Rubio nor Vance Has Trump’s Personal Appeal

MAGA has evolved from an insurgent faction into the Republican Party’s dominant organizing force, while Trump remains central to candidate selection and mobilization. How should we distinguish Trumpism as personalist leadership from MAGA as an institutionalized movement—and which elements are most likely to outlive Trump?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: It’s a hard one to answer because this is of the “predict the future” variety. What Trump has offered is personalist leadership that is very much about the flash and sizzle of him. But he says, “I am MAGA,” so it’s unclear whether what survives is MAGA or not.

Without going too deep into that, I’d say Trump has emerged from long-standing currents on the American right. Sam and I are very much in the continuity, not change, school of “Did everything change with Donald Trump?” No. The mobilization of resentment and the rather tactical deployment of issues are long-standing concerns.

The biggest single change that Trumpism offers is around immigration. Race is not as much a departure as some people like to imagine, and the anti-immigrant policies that Trump has adopted have now become de rigueur on the Republican side. The other is that Republicans’ commitment to fiscal rectitude was always in the breach. There are these big tax cuts—Reagan in 1981, Bush in 2001, etc.—but the claims of straightforward macroeconomic management are, with Trump, of a different order, and that is likely to continue.

The ways that comparativists will see Trumpism as resembling the very thin, leader-led populism around the world will also continue. We don’t know who the next Trump is. Marco Rubio is a much more traditional Republican who has successfully changed his stripes. J.D. Vance is much more focused on taking some of the currents of the grassroots right and moving with them. Neither of them has Trump’s personal appeal.

Trump Has Not Just Pushed Against Norms

Donald Trump delivers a victory speech after his big win in the Nevada caucus at Treasure Island Hotel & Casino, flanked by his sons Eric (right) and Donald Jr. (left) in Las Vegas, NV. Photo: Joe Sohm.

Populism claims to restore sovereignty to “the people,” yet it often collides with institutions designed to constrain power. At what point does populist majoritarianism become democratic erosion, and how should we understand the tension between electoral authorization and constitutional restraint in the Trump era?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: I was telling my students this week that if you ever have a question where they say, “On the one hand, on the other,” don’t just say one—say both, and then you’ll look very sophisticated. So, I’m going to be very sophisticated and say both.

In 2017, Trump arrives, shatters all sorts of norms, and the reaction of a lot of good, right-thinking liberals is to see this as an absolute, unmitigated disaster. A decade on, we are less in that. The two books by Levitsky and Ziblatt epitomize this. The first is very much that democracy is about norms, and the second is that maybe American democracy—and the institutions that we’ve got and the Constitution that we’ve inherited from the 18th century—aren’t all that to start with.

I am not the precise line-drawer of exactly where normal, ordinary politics descends. However, it’s very clear that, in all sorts of ways, Trump has not just pushed against norms but violated very basic pieces of what democracy is all about: going after his opponents and doing all of what he’s trying to do on voting rights. These are very fundamental violations of the core of democracy—and January 6th, above all, is a very fundamental violation. Calling that just populist majoritarianism is treating things lightly.

I think the response from the opponents of Trumpism is then to think in much bigger terms about remaking the American constitutional system, which is all to the good. There is a little bit of a “Well, we want our executive power too,” but the limits of left populism have meant that this is not as large a strand in American thinking about how to respond to the populist right as you’ll see in Europe.

US Can’t Just Return to a Status Quo That Wasn’t Working

You argue that today’s democratic dangers reflect both right-wing radicalization and structural weaknesses in the American constitutional order. Does Trumpism mainly expose pathologies already embedded in the Madisonian system, or has it fundamentally transformed how those institutions operate?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: I’m going to play both again. Actually, it’s probably that the Madisonian system—and this is all of the many veto points in the United States—was always vulnerable, and it’s always been vulnerable for a bunch of reasons, all of them going on their own timetables. The Supreme Court has life tenure and nine justices, now consistently following the partisanship of the president who appointed them. Republicans have a supermajority. Republican justices have taken their pre-Trump ideology, and even if they’ve gone against Trump when he’s done some of his most egregious stuff, or lawyered it poorly, the power of the Court, the power of the presidency, the presidential pardon power, and the Senate with its maldistribution of states—this is the most maldistributed legislative body in the world—all of these are long-standing problems with the American constitutional system that are newly salient.

And, to my answer to the last question, they are all problems that make it harder and harder to say, “We just need to return to a status quo that wasn’t working.” If you basically believe that presidential power is good for the system and Trump’s just done it poorly, that’s also an argument that doesn’t really wash at this point. Saying that we will give the loaded gun of the American presidency in the hope that virtue and norms restrain it is pretty weak sauce.

Now, the American Constitution is also the hardest to amend in the world, and so it’s very easy for me to say that this is a system with lots of problems, and it’s very difficult to figure out how to get from here to there.

Wanting a Secure Border Is Very Different from Roving Interior Enforcement

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

Why has anti-immigration become such an effective vehicle for right-wing populism? Does its potency derive primarily from material concerns, ethnonational identity, institutional distrust, or its role in defining “the people” against outsiders?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: You ask an excellent question to which I, as a scholar of party politics who reads the literature on immigration, want to get a good handle on, and I’m not going to try to BS my way through an answer by saying, on the one hand, and then repeating your question as an answer.

On the one hand, we see from all of the data—both from reading the papers that you and I read and from looking at the election returns—that immigration is the issue that motivates so many voters, some but not all of whom are erstwhile center-left voters, to support right populism. On the other hand, when we say immigration, what exactly is inside that black box, and why is it that voters are so worried about immigration in places where they don’t see many immigrants?

We do know that contact theory works, and if you get to know immigrants—they could be your co-workers and your friends—you become less anti-immigrant. But why is it that immigration has this magical power? Some people say it’s just immigration because it’s the issue that voters say is top of mind and comes to the top of our regression coefficients. That is both important and somewhat question-begging in exactly the way you were asking.

This is me not being a real immigration person—it’s important to know, but it doesn’t really tell me everything that I want to understand about what is, across the rich democracies, the issue. Donald Trump has been an anti-immigrant figure—I could use some not-nice words than that—for a long time. He intuited, in ways that nobody else did in 2015, just how potent this issue was. Then he’s ridden that, and many of his most effective political aides, Stephen Miller, have done that.

Now, there are limits to that. Americans are not crazy about—they want a secure border, but the interior enforcement, going after people on the streets, picking them off, that we saw in Minneapolis over the winter, is not something that most Americans are really signed up for. It is one of the places where the nuances of public opinion do matter: having ICE, as Immigration and Customs Enforcement, which has interior enforcement, as a roving paramilitary unit taking people off the streets is a very different matter from voters wanting a secure border. So, I’m not sure that’s a great answer, but that’s what I know.

The Tech Elite Has Basically Made Its Peace with Trumpism

MAGA attacks “globalists” and cultural elites while coexisting with concentrated private wealth and donor power. How should we understand the relationship between populism and plutocracy? Can anti-elite politics flourish while economic inequality remains intact—or deepens?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: One of the important ways that Trump One is different from Trump Two is that, while Trump has been in office for basically separate reasons, economic inequality is a half-century-long story, but the tech elite’s wealth has absolutely ballooned. With the rise, first, of social media and then of AI, we now have a very elite stratum that has basically made its peace with Trumpism.

Now, an important part of that is the old-fashioned labor rebellion. Silicon Valley workers tried in the 2010s to unionize. They are worried about their own working conditions, they’re worried about the products that their companies are making, they’re worried about racism and sexism, and they see their employers implicated in that. Employers responded, as employers have responded ever since the Industrial Revolution, by joining forces of the right that they would otherwise find unsavory.

That is more or less how—someone like Elon Musk has got his own trajectory back to South Africa—but that’s more or less how a Mark Zuckerberg figure goes from being anti-Trump to being at the Trump inauguration and at the state dinner with Xi Jinping.

American parties—there are two of them—are big-tent parties, and so forces that, in a proportional representation system, would be in maybe uneasy alliance in a parliamentary majority in government are instead inside the same political coalition. There are all sorts of contradictions. Trumpism’s got all of these contradictions.

But two things are worth saying. The first is that there has been—and this is an important point in what Sam and I are writing—no cordon sanitaire in US politics in the way that many European parties have tried, sometimes succeeded and sometimes not, and sometimes it dissolves and sometimes not, to keep out parties on the extreme right. So, the pro-business right is in alliance with the most revanchist elements of MAGAism. Is that stable? No. But can it last for a pretty long time? Yes.

The other thing to say is that, with the rise of the tech right, the traditional US Chamber of Commerce pro-business right—and this is one of the salient parts of what’s happened with Trumpism—is at a pretty weak ebb. Instead, there are these very personal relationships, sort of neo-patrimonial relationships, between the most important figures in tech and someone like Trump, who is both going to his rallies and denouncing elites, by which he means cultural elites more than economic elites.

Jensen Huang of Nvidia is calling Trump, and they’re all buddy-buddy on the telephone. That’s the way that plutocracy and populism are working out in today’s GOP.

Working-Class Voters Are Getting Educated on TikTok, not in the Union Hall

A smartphone displaying the TikTok logo is seen in front of the flag of China. US President Donald Trump banned Chinese apps citing national security concerns. Photo: Dreamstime.

Your analysis of 2024 highlights continuing class dealignment, with Democrats gaining among affluent, educated voters and Republicans among lower-income, less-educated constituencies. Is this mainly ideological realignment, or the consequence of weakened unions, local parties, and other institutions that once translated material interests into partisan loyalty?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: This isn’t quite a both; it’s more that one explains the other. In a time of thicker institutional loyalties, those institutions shaped what voters knew and how they saw the world. Without those institutions, working-class voters are not getting politically formed and educated in the union hall and the clubhouse; they’re getting educated on TikTok, and that is very bad for a center-left that looks out of touch.

What’s notable about Democrats is that they see long-term class dealignment as a problem, but they don’t really think about it in institutional terms; they think about it just in policy terms. It’s: if we build some battery factories, then people will see that there are battery factories, and they will vote for Democrats because Democrats are the party that builds battery factories. It turns out not to work very well, and it shouldn’t be a surprise that it doesn’t. But that’s the puzzle: that they thought it would in the first place.

Democrats Tried to Solve Class Dealignment Through Means Incapable of Doing So

In The Policy Bet, you argue that Biden-era “deliverism” could not reverse working-class defection. Is the deeper lesson that material gains do not generate political loyalty unless organizations connect policy benefits to collective identity and durable political attachment?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: Yes, that’s—you got it! Political loyalties are made through the experiences of voters’ actual lives and the ways they see themselves in political collectivities. Democrats, in a deinstitutionalized age, forgot that lesson and, in a sense, went big in ways that were unhelpful to them and that were, in turn, reflective of the often NGO-linked, funder-linked forces that were influential in the party in the first place. They look at 2016, they see the problem of class dealignment, they want to solve that problem, and they attempt to solve it through means that are more or less incapable of doing so.

Give Voters Political Connections Where They Are

You argue that Democrats need to become an “actual political party again.” What would rebuilding a mass party look like in 2026, and can unions, churches, immigrant associations, neighborhood groups, and local parties still anchor politics in an era of nationalized media and digital campaigning?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: This is the hard question, which is: “Schlozman, Rosenfeld, we love everything you say about the past, but we live in the present, and all those books you read about the past can’t help us now.” That is the charge against us, and point taken.

What I tend to say is, first, let’s see what we can do, and let’s see how we can move forward and try to think institutionally. The second is: what are your alternatives? It seems like the policy bet isn’t working. You run ads, and they can be pretty effective in their way, but voters forget them very quickly. The alternatives to institution building seem to be deeply flawed themselves.

The other piece is thinking about how forms of connection work, because they simply won’t be like those of the past. Someone I know in Democratic politics was saying that all these young people spend all their time on Twitch streams. I’ll sound like a middle-aged fogy and say I’m not really sure what that is, but they’re playing video games, talking to people, making friends, and receiving political content through the friends they’re making on their Twitch streams.

Whether or not that actually works, the idea is to figure out how to give voters political connections where they are and to take what is already present in their friendships and loyalties and develop it politically. That’s the right way of thinking about this. What we are offering from the past is a way to think institutionally about political loyalties, rather than a claim that the exact forms they take will be the ones we once saw, because that would just be an exercise in nostalgia, and I see the limits of that.

The DNC Is Salvageable

The Democratic Party’s donkey, a widely recognized symbol of the party despite not being its official logo. Photo: Dreamstime.

In The DNC Against Itself, you describe Democrats as rich in organizations but poor in organization. Has the rise of a para-party infrastructure hollowed out the DNC beyond repair, or could it still become a genuine coordinating institution?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: I want to say that the Democratic National Committee—and I wrote this long essay for The New Yorker, which was trying to understand the often baroque, insular politics of the National Committee—has, ever since 2016, been shorthand for the Democratic Party infrastructure, which is unhelpful. So, I was writing about the DNC itself.

I think getting a stronger DNC will require a Democratic president who makes it a priority and has a DNC chair who will knock heads and tell the state parties—the institutions in each of the 50 states that, because they control the ballot lines in those states, have a certain amount of formal power—to knock it off. If you want to build a strong party organization, you can’t just do it like we’ve been doing, and their interest in maintaining their prerogatives over things like fiddling around with the primary calendar for when the primaries are held in each state, just like convention delegates—enough with this. We are going to get serious.

That can be done. It would require a president who actually cares about these things to do it. That’s worth doing. But one of the tragedies of the DNC—and I tried to get this across in the piece—is that it has possibilities to be the nerve center for real organizing, but only if there are some drastic changes.

There are larger questions about what formal parties can do, and a lot of those are going to be answered at the state and local level. There’s also a very specific question about the Democratic National Committee. Even granting all of the structural challenges facing party organization, the DNC is both the worst example of—and it’s not the only time that, as they say in methods class, you learn things by looking at the extreme case—but because it’s the extreme case, it is salvageable in ways that are much less structural than a lot of the challenges for parties that we’re talking about.

Trump Emerges from Very Deep Currents on the Grassroots Right

Has the post-1968 shift toward candidate-centered primaries weakened parties’ ability to protect themselves—and democracy—from factional or anti-system candidates? Do American parties need more legitimate forms of internal gatekeeping?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: The answer is yes. In fact, I was just reviewing this week a book by Raymond La Raja and Zachary Albert. La Raja has long been a fellow party scholar in the tradition of his late teacher, Nelson Polsby at Berkeley, arguing that reform has destroyed American parties’ ability to set their own destiny.

A lot of the specifics that they advocate—empowering the national convention, having some kind of system of peer review again, having leading party officials vet candidates before they can appear on primary ballots, giving more money to the national committees, both the DNC and RNC, and then to the party congressional committees so they can throw it around rather than giving it direct handles—I’m in favor of all of these.

But the point where Schlozman and Rosenfeld—“Schlozenfeld,” as we like to call ourselves—differ from the political scientists who are beating that drum most loudly is that we are concerned about parties’ legitimacy, about parties’ ability to make the claim that parties matter, about parties’ standing in voters’ eyes, and about the stuff we were just talking about: parties’ lived presence in people’s everyday lives. That means that simply giving parties more formal power and more money is unlikely to solve the deeper legitimacy problems.

Now, the question of Trumpism and the Republican nomination is that, on the one hand, you can argue—and people like Raymond have—that Trump won in 2016 because of the post-reform nomination process: a different party, with a stronger ability to gatekeep, would have stopped Trump because party elites didn’t really like him. There’s a proximate question, which is that there was nobody left standing whom they really liked better, because they all loathed Ted Cruz, but leave that aside.

The deeper point is that Trump emerges from very deep currents on the grassroots right, and it is the rising of those currents, rather than simply the mechanical ability to stop that, that is how you get Trump. So, I would take issue with the larger implication that it is the post-reform nomination process that gives us Donald Trump.

The Key Phrase for Democratic Socialism Is ‘Not Yet’

Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez.
Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez at the “Bernie Is Back” political rally in Queensbridge Park, Queens, New York, on October 19, 2019. Photo: Aleksandr Dyskin / Dreamstime.

Democratic socialism increasingly shapes Democratic primaries and policy debate, but it has not captured the party as MAGA captured the GOP. Is this because it lacks comparable institutional depth, because Democrats are structurally more pluralistic, or because the American left has not yet built durable organizations capable of converting movements into governing power?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: I think the key phrase there—and you could probably apply it to all three of the clauses you gave me—is “not yet.” Democratic socialism is on the rise. It is on the rise in ways that allow us to tell a story that starts with the Occupy protests of 2011, runs through the Bernie Sanders campaigns, and then sees Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez elected to Congress.

Democratic Socialists are clearly capable of winning elections in very Democratic places. In 2025, Zohran Mamdani gets elected mayor of New York City. What they have not shown is the ability to win in deeply contested territories, and especially to win elections that more moderate candidates cannot. So, that’s how you have this inter-party battle.

The important election this year, for these purposes, is in Michigan, where Abdul El-Sayed, who is not a member of DSA and is not really a Democratic socialist, but is clearly a figure of the left—much more than anyone else who is running for Senate. If he wins, especially if he wins by a margin that looks pretty healthy rather than just being dragged across the finish line in a white Democratic year, that’s a sign of vitality for his movement. If not, then not.

All of the above is true. The Democratic Socialists of America are funny because it’s an organization that, on the one hand, looms very large in public consciousness and, on the other hand, has a little more than 100,000 members, which is a flyspeck. So, no, the organizational depth, to use your phrase, is really not there.

There’s a broader progressive tendency. That progressive tendency is on the rise, and the Democratic moderates have not been—and without going too deep into punditry when you want political science—particularly effective over the last generation in figuring out what they want the party to look like and bringing all their forces together.

There’s a lot of moderate money around, but it’s not particularly well connected to people. The money—a lot of it finance- and tech-related—is concentrated where the finance and tech money lives, in New York and California, not in places like the swing districts where it matters.

So, the Democratic Socialists and the left have been a lot more effective in trying to have a vision and articulate where it goes than the party center, the still-reigning center. One of the stories about the rise of the left is also that centrists still seem to be able to win elections in swing districts better, but they have not had the vision that their leftist counterparts have had.

DSA Is a Very Not-Hollow Party

MAGA defines “the people” largely through national, cultural, and immigration boundaries, while democratic-socialist populism pits workers and ordinary citizens against concentrated economic power. Does the US party system increasingly feature two competing constructions of “the people,” or is that comparison misleading because MAGA has captured a major party while the left remains an insurgent current within a broader coalition?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: That question is rolling together two things. The first is notions of “the people,” and the second is the different levels of movement capture in the Republican and Democratic parties. There are notions of “the people” in center-left politics, too. Barack Obama’s got an understanding of what “the people” is; it’s just not a people-against-the-interests, classic populist piece.

The ways Trumpism uses “the people,” in that classic exclusionary nationalist way that the populism literature describes, are probably more helpful for understanding where he’s coming from than the ways the left uses “the people.” The Chantal Mouffe left-populism peak has come and gone. If I read the DSA theorists, they are less enamored of that framing. You don’t really see AOC talking about “the people” in that way.

Yes, there is a hard-edged us-versus-them-ness in where the left edge of the Democratic Party is going, but I don’t think the comparative populism literature is the key to unlocking what is rooted in—DSA is a very not-hollow party. This is actual volunteers who have very deep connections, going door-to-door. That’s what elected Mamdani, along with a broader sense of system discontent. But it’s not quite left populism in that 2010 sense, and I don’t know quite what it is. Some of the instincts of a comparativist to look and say, “That’s it,” aren’t quite there.

Democrats Have to Figure Out How to Be Connected with the Civil Society

If anti-Trump constitutionalism is insufficient and progressive policy cannot substitute for organization, what would a durable Democratic alternative require? Can the party defend liberal-democratic institutions, rebuild working-class ties, accommodate ideological heterodoxy, and harness democratic-socialist energy without fragmenting?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: Damn, I hope so! You very carefully read everything I’ve written and identified all the things I’d like to have happen, and I hope this works. What I’d say is that big-tent parties with a sense of themselves are not parties with a litmus test where everybody agrees about everything. That’s unrealistic in the American electoral system in a pluralistic country.

They are parties that have some sense of where they want to go. Historically, the Republicans—Sam and I are writing about this—during the party’s founding generation from 1854 to 1877, the party that wins the Civil War, frees the Union, and brings equality into the Constitution, epitomize this. Various members of that party will want to go faster or slower, but they have a deep common—a deep common direction is not a great metaphor. They have a strong sense of their North Star, the place they want to go, and exactly how fast they want to do it. They are connected with the institutions of civil society.

That is what Democrats have to figure out how to do. Yes, there will be a fractious primary in 2028. That’s fine. The candidate who emerges—and on some level, what you’re asking is both an institutional question about how to organize a party, but it’s also, in a very proximate sense, not a question for political scientists like me to say, “Can they do it?” but a question for political leaders to figure out: do they understand that that’s the challenge, and how do they do it?

Successful presidential nominees—Trump is an exception. Trump is this kind of figure who disrupts the existing qualities of his party to a very great degree. But under ordinary circumstances, not Trumpian circumstances, successful presidential nominees are ones who don’t appear purely factional, don’t take one item from your list and say, “We’re doing only that.” They take a little from column A, a little from column B, some of this, some of that, and then orient toward the future rather than the issues that have internally divided their party for the last while.

So, there’s some heterodoxy, to use the term of the hour from my friend Adam Jellison, some sense of where democratic socialism is coming from, and some sense of institution building. The reason that Jon Ossoff of Georgia is getting such a moment right now is that he does have, intuitively, a sense of what that challenge is. That’s what makes him, to Democrats, an appealing prospect: that we can have someone who’s trying to do lots of the different things we want our party to do.

But, having said, “Oh, there’s a person,” this is not a great man story. This is, ultimately, a question of how political leadership is translated into institutional capacity, and that’s a much bigger story that I think will lead to your next question.

Winning an Election Is Not Enough

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

What do cases such as the Nevada Democratic–Culinary Workers alliance, Ben Wikler’s organizing in Wisconsin, and Zohran Mamdani’s campaign suggest about resisting democratic backsliding? Is democracy defended most effectively when constitutional commitments are embedded in organizations that produce participation, solidarity, and political efficacy?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: I certainly think so. This is an institutionalist story that Sam and I are trying to tell: you can win elections, and a lot of money is spent to win elections through advertising that voters remember very quickly, remember for a very short period, that affects their vote choice, and then they move on. But if you want to take your victory and make something of it, that requires deep institution building.

It was interesting for me that Hyperpolitics—Anton Jäger is to my left—has some sense of looking at the 2010s and seeing the failures. It’s pretty easy these days to organize a protest. You organize on social media, you get the word out on social media—it’s not really organizing. You go off, you’re in the streets, and then, poof, everything vanishes.

If you want a politics that’s more durable than that, you go back to institutions and institution building. How do you do that? It tends to be some version, without trying to romanticize the old ways of doing this, of people talking to people they know, and talking to people they know, with institutional fora in which they do that and with actual investment in the capacity for them to do it. But you also do it in ways that give people some ownership of their own work.

The incentives are not just to have a good time and talk to your neighbors, but often some of the—and this is where the hotel workers in Nevada, at the casinos, in the Culinary, come in—are incentives about better pay, better working conditions, a better life, and not just the mythic view, some of which can seem a little seamy and materialistic, of what a better life looks like.

So, how does that all work in the 21st century? Is it possible? That’s the drumbeat of what you’re asking. I wish I had better answers, but I don’t see any alternative to trying.

The Republican Party Trumpified, but Our Uncertain Journey Continues

Finally, Professor Schlozman, looking beyond November 3, what would you consider the deeper significance of the 2026 midterms for the evolution of the American party system? Are we moving toward a durable asymmetry in which the Republican Party becomes an increasingly cohesive, leader-centered populist formation while Democrats remain a fragmented coalition of institutional liberals, moderates, progressives, and democratic socialists? Or could electoral pressure itself force both parties into a new phase of organizational reconstruction—and with it a redefinition of who represents “the people” in American democracy?

Professor Daniel Schlozman: To start where we began, it’s unclear what role these midterms will play, and that will become clear only later on. Is this a midterm election that ultimately sets up durable Democratic majorities that will do big things? One of the things political historians know that the victories of Democrats in the great civil rights legislation of 1960, the 1964 Civil Rights Act, the 1965 Voting Rights Act, and Medicare in 1965 are all rooted in the now totally forgotten 1958 midterm elections, when Democrats made huge gains across the North and West in long-traditionally Republican territory. Those are the key voters who, half a dozen years later, made all this liberal legislation possible.

So, if Democrats do really well, and then it’s in exactly these seats that a Democratic majority into the 2030s matters, then yes, we will do that. There’s another chance that it’s not really a way for Democrats, that our 50-50 politics endures, and then the 2026 midterms will be as forgotten as lots of others. They’ll matter only insofar as the precise balance of Senate seats then sets things up later on.

That’s a point about the midterms in particular. To answer the more general question about what is going on with American parties, asymmetry has been a word for a couple of decades now. Paul Pierson and Jacob Hacker started off by noting the ways that, in the 2000s, rational-choice assumptions of symmetry were wrong, and Republicans seemed to be moving faster away from the median voter. Matt Grossmann and David Hopkins said that Democrats were about groups and Republicans about ideology in the early 2010s, a formulation that I think works better for Democrats and their fractious qualities. Donald Trump may be many things, but he is not an ideologue.

But the feeling—and it informs everything that Sam and I are doing—is that, looking at Democrats and Republicans separately and at the ways that hollowness manifested itself, these parties are very different, even as they compete with one another and even as their 50-50 competition seems to be going on longer than anybody would have expected when this pattern began pre-Trump. No party has actually won the durable majorities that, for most of American history, were pretty typical. This pattern of absolute knife-edge control, seesawing back and forth all the time, is very atypical.

So, these are very different parties. Will that pattern continue? I don’t know. But it is still the case that, to Europeans, Democrats are a pretty—every party’s different—but these are recognizable species. Yes, it’s a much broader tent than anything you’re going to see in a PR system, but all of its individual components seem roughly familiar, even if Europeans look at Americans and are still shocked by the bigness of anything, including the bigness of the tent of our parties.

But Republicans are not. This is something different. It’s in the amalgam of extreme right and mainstream right, in the anti-democratic tendencies, and where that goes, I don’t think we know. But Democrats and the Democratic intellectual classes are thinking more seriously about constitutional reconstruction, about the ways that we might rethink the system more generally, than they were a decade ago. What that means in a constitution that’s hard to amend is unclear.

But we are not in the same Democratic Party that we were in 2017, just as the Republican Party Trumpified, and who knows what that will mean with a political figure who does not have the juice of Donald Trump. But our uncertain journey continues. 

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović.

Dr. Hasanović: Ethnically Defined Power Sharing in Bosnia Is the Algorithm That Continually Reproduces the Crisis

In this ECPS interview, Dr. Jasmin Hasanović analyzes Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections through the lens of inter-, intra-, and cross-ethnic populism. He argues that the post-Dayton order continues to structure political competition around ethnically segmented constituencies, allowing parties to present themselves not merely as representatives but as protectors of threatened communities. This dynamic, he contends, helps explain why political change often fails to produce systemic transformation: institutional safeguards become “political currency,” while blockades and recurring crises reproduce the same underlying logic. As Dr. Hasanović puts it, “the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis” is ethnically defined power sharing. The interview also explores the limits of civic alternatives, the weakness of cross-ethnic mobilization, and the prospects for a credible democratic left.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections combined an important procedural innovation with striking political continuity. Biometric voter identification strengthened the integrity of the electoral process, yet turnout fell to around 42 percent, while the country’s major ethnonational parties remained dominant within their respective constituencies. SNSD consolidated its position in Republika Srpska, SDA retained substantial strength among Bosniak voters despite Bakir Izetbegović’s defeat in the presidency contest, and HDZ BiH secured the Croat seat in the state presidency. These outcomes provide the immediate backdrop to our conversation with Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, Assistant Professor of Political Science at the University of Sarajevo, about populism, ethnopolitics, democratic representation, and the structural legacies of the Dayton order. 

At the center of Dr. Hasanović’s analysis is the argument that Bosnia’s political crises cannot be understood simply as the product of particular leaders or parties. Rather, they are embedded in a system in which ethnicity has become “a central organizing principle, not only in politics, but also in public and social life.” Electoral competition, he argues, operates largely through ethnically segmented party systems, while the populist construction of “the people” takes place between, within, and across ethnic communities. The October 4 elections, in his view, therefore illustrate “a continued dominance of inter-ethnic politics,” even as significant intra-ethnic competition persists, and cross-ethnic alternatives remain comparatively weak. 

The interview’s central argument is captured most sharply in Dr. Hasanović’s assessment of the Dayton system itself. The power-sharing architecture, he argues, has tied access to power to ethnic representation in ways that make it politically rewarding for leaders to present themselves as “protectors, not only representatives, of their communities.” Institutional safeguards can consequently become “political currency,” while blockades and crises are repeatedly reproduced. As he puts it, replacing a governing party or overcoming a single institutional blockade does not alter “the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis.” That algorithm, he concludes, “is ethnically defined power sharing.” 

This structural perspective also helps explain why political change so often fails to become systemic change. In Republika Srpska, opposition to SNSD may challenge corruption or personalized rule without challenging the underlying ethnonational framework. Among Bosniaks, party pluralism can itself be portrayed as weakness when Serb and Croat political blocs appear more consolidated. And even when citizens share grievances over corruption, unemployment, inequality, public services, or institutional failure, Dr. Hasanović warns that “having the same problems does not produce a shared political identity.” 

The interview therefore moves beyond the question of who won or lost on October 4. It asks whether Bosnia can generate a political subjectivity capable of transcending ethnic exclusivity—and whether democratic, socioeconomic, and civic demands can eventually reshape a system whose institutional logic continues to reproduce the very divisions it was designed to manage.

Here is our interview with Dr. Jasmin Hasanović, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Inter-Ethnic Politics Still Dominates

Bosnia elections.
A voter casts a ballot against the backdrop of the flag of Bosnia and Herzegovina. Photo: Oleg Kachura / Dreamstime.

Professor Hasanović, welcome! Your recent article distinguishes between inter-ethnic, intra-ethnic, and cross-ethnic forms of populism. If we treat the October 4 elections as an empirical test of that framework, which of these dynamics appears to have been strengthened most clearly by the election results? Or does the election demonstrate that all three operate simultaneously, with different political consequences across Bosnia and Herzegovina?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: First of all, let me try to clarify what I understand by populism, because I think that would be the most important point at the beginning. I also want to distinguish populism from something that may appear as opposition politics within an ethnic community. That doesn’t have to be populist at all.

My understanding of populism, which is also described in the paper that you mentioned, is very much Laclauian. I see populism not as a kind of thin ideology or something like that, but as a political logic through which different unmet demands are brought together to construct a collective political subject, “the people.” And those demands establish a dividing line between “us” and “them.” So, the political identity of “us” is then constructed in relation to “them,” whether a ruling elite, another ethnic community and its political elites, or the institutional order itself.

Why I see this framework as important for understanding and explaining populism in Bosnia and Herzegovina is that, after the Dayton Peace Agreement was signed, Bosnia and Herzegovina has operated under a power-sharing system designed to ensure the political representation of the three dominant ethnic groups: the Bosniaks, the Croats, and the Serbs. They are defined as constituent peoples of the country. But the politicization of ethnicity very soon extended beyond the political aim of representation. It made ethnicity a central organizing principle, not only in politics, but also in public and social life.

This has two important consequences for Bosnia and Herzegovina. On the one side, we see that electoral competition takes place within ethnically segmented party subsystems, so voters are not formally required to vote along ethnic lines. However, the institutional arrangements, territorial divisions, and party mobilization, which we saw very clearly in those elections, strongly reinforce that pattern.

Secondly, given this ethnically structured political order, the populist construction of political subjectivity can take place in relation to ethnic communities. It cannot construct a political identity without referring to ethnic communities. So, depending on how it relates to ethnic communities, it can relate either between them, within them, or across them. That is why I made this distinction between inter-ethnic, intra-ethnic, and cross-ethnic populism, rather than relying on a simple, linear division between horizontal and vertical forms of populism.

Now, going back to your question and referring to the recent elections, I wouldn’t see the elections as an empirical test. Rather, I would see them as an illustration of how this framework works and interacts. What those elections demonstrated was, as you already mentioned, a continued dominance of inter-ethnic politics. So, the dominant parties remain the ethnonationalist parties, which mobilize around competing political claims and visions over the country. And every political party claims to represent and protect the demands of its respective community.

However, if we take a closer look, we will see that there is still significant competition, of course asymmetrical, within the ethnic groups and within the ethnic electoral arenas. For instance, we see the tension surrounding the dominant Bosniak political party, SDA, the Party of Democratic Action. As you mentioned, there is this tension between its relative electoral performance, which, of course, dominated in the elections within the areas of the country where Bosniaks are the dominant ethnic group, and, on the other side, the fact that its leader was defeated for the presidency.

What we also saw was the emergence of a stronger opposition within the Croat camp than there used to be before. What I want to say here is that ethnic homogenization was driven not only by opposition to other ethnic groups, but also by competition within them, as rival parties try to establish themselves as more credible defenders of the ethnic groups than the dominant ethnic political parties.

On the other side, cross-ethnic demands are still present, but they have not developed into a comparably strong electoral project, partially because electoral competition remains concentrated largely within monoethnic party subsystems, which makes it quite difficult for shared grievances to be connected across ethnic boundaries.

Dodik’s Influence Extends Beyond Office

Perhaps the most striking result came from Republika Srpska: Milorad Dodik was not himself on the ballot, yet SNSD retained its dominance, Željka Cvijanović won the Serb seat in the state presidency, and the party remained overwhelmingly powerful at entity level. Does this suggest that Dodik’s populism has become institutionalized beyond his personal leadership, or is this better understood through your category of inter-ethnic populism, in which voters are ultimately choosing their national “side” rather than an individual leader?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: It doesn’t mean that he was not an active part of the campaign. He remained the central political figure of SNSD during the campaign. He was present on billboards and at party rallies, so he was not missing from the public sphere. And not to forget that he also visited Moscow, where he met Vladimir Putin only days before the elections, together with the then Prime Minister of Republika Srpska, Savo Minić, who is now elected as the president of the entity. Vladimir Putin explicitly expressed support for the governing SNSD-led coalition.

When we see the results, it is obvious that Dodik’s political influence extends beyond holding an elected office. But what we also see is that SNSD probably could not reproduce the same dominance without him. He was not running, but he was still a dominant political figure. It is definitely the case that Dodik will remain and have influence behind the scenes in the political life of Bosnia and Herzegovina. His political party and all the ideology behind it, which he dominantly shapes, will remain central to government formation in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

This also shows the inefficiency of the Troika coalition in suspending Dodik and Dodik’s politics. I mean, he’s not running for office, but still, his presence is dominant, as we can see. Most Bosniak voters saw this as evidence that the Troika didn’t succeed in efficiently eliminating Dodik’s political rhetoric, which is threatening to the country. But also, Dodik’s victory was a slap in the face of the European Union and the internationals in this election.

Also, I don’t want to forget SNSD’s organization and patronage networks, because they allow Dodik’s leadership to operate through other candidates and through the established institutions of Republika Srpska. On the other side, his inter-ethnic populism reinforces that power by equating support for the party with support for Republika Srpska and the Serb people in the country.

Replacing Dodik Would Not Transform the Framework

Milorad Dodik.
Milorad Dodik greets supporters in Pale, Bosnia and Herzegovina, following a meeting and referendum on Republika Srpska’s National Day, September 25, 2016. Photo: Vladimir Stanisic / Dreamstime.

Your concept of intra-ethnic populism is especially useful because it distinguishes opposition to an entrenched ethnonational elite from opposition to ethnonationalism itself. In Republika Srpska, opposition actors may challenge SNSD over corruption, patronage, or personalized power while remaining committed to Serb autonomy and national interests. Does the October 4 result reinforce your argument that intra-ethnic competition can pluralize an ethnic political arena without necessarily weakening the underlying ethnonational conception of “the people”?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, here the distinction is between challenging the ruling elite of one ethnic community, on the one side, and challenging the ethnic principle of political representation, on the other. As we saw, and as you mentioned, opposition actors can mobilize around corruption, injustice, and personalized power, as was the case with Dodik’s opposition or the opposition to HDZ, although we also didn’t have Dragan Čović running for the presidency. But they do so without constructing, to go back to the case of Republika Srpska, a political people beyond Republika Srpska and Serb national interests.

That might open space for accountability, but it doesn’t produce different politics. The politics remains basically the same. This is most visible within the opposition in Republika Srpska. All the actors of the opposition in Republika Srpska share the same idea of what Republika Srpska is and should be. They share the same idea that Republika Srpska needs to remain a part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, even with stronger autonomy, and everything is understood as the main Serb national interest.

Every time Dodik defined Republika Srpska as being under threat, opposition parties aligned with Milorad Dodik. We saw that in practice. The recent reactions of prominent opposition leaders in Republika Srpska, mourning and paying tribute after the death of Ratko Mladić, who was a convicted war criminal and died while serving a life sentence, convicted of genocide and crimes against humanity, illustrate that ethnonationalist and revisionist positions remain, unfortunately, deeply embedded in Serb politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina. This extends beyond SNSD as a political party or Milorad Dodik as a leader.

So, replacing Dodik or SNSD at this point would not by itself transform the political framework within which both sides compete. The democratic potential of intra-ethnic competition depends on whether the demands for justice can become substantive commitments to creating a new political subjectivity, rather than simply claiming that another leadership will defend the same national project better than the previous one.

Because if you have a competition between the original and the fake copy, of course, you will always go for the original. So, I would explain that as one of the reasons why Milorad Dodik and SNSD still maintain a dominant position.

SDA Shapes Bosniak Political Identity

The Bosniak result presents an intriguing variation: SDA performed strongly at the party level, yet Bakir Izetbegović lost the presidency contest to Denis Bećirović. How would you interpret this apparent separation between party strength and leadership preference? Could it represent precisely the kind of intra-ethnic differentiation you describe—where voters challenge who legitimately represents the community without necessarily abandoning the ethnically structured political field itself?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, that’s something I already mentioned when I started answering your first question. What I would also like to point out here is that the relative success of SDA should be distinguished from an absolute expansion of its electorate. If we look at the preliminary results, we see that SDA mobilized and retained its voters more efficiently than its other competitors. Of course, we need to wait until all the results are finalized. But I see neither that SDA gained more votes nor that SDA lost some votes. I see that SDA is very stubborn in general and that it succeeded in mobilizing its strong voting base.

But I have to be very clear here regarding Izetbegović, because Izetbegović’s candidacy was a political risk for SDA from the very beginning. There were earlier signs of dissatisfaction with his leadership, so SDA was not really sure whether Izetbegović should be the candidate or not. There were also speculations about some other possible candidates before he was officially nominated to run for the presidency. It gave me the impression that SDA was not sure whether he was a good option or whether he would be a political risk for them, while, on the other side, also showing some inner weakness in lacking an adequate candidate to run for the presidency.

So, Izetbegović’s defeat, despite SDA’s strong performance, shows that support for the party goes beyond loyalty to its current leader. Where SDA gains its political power is rather symbolic. It comes from, of course, reliance on religion, the wartime legacy, and the symbolic authority of Bakir’s father, Alija Izetbegović, who was the founder of SDA and the first president of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

SDA has connected these sources of legitimacy with the claim that excluding SDA from power means excluding Bosniaks from political representation. This brings different demands together around the idea that SDA is not only the authentic political voice of Bosniaks, but also a defining force in shaping and safeguarding Bosniak national identity as a political nation.

Its ability to maintain a stable core of voters, despite a lot of splinter parties that have formed over the last 10 years, suggests that this identification that SDA is pushing forward remains very powerful in the relationship between SDA and the construction of Bosniaks as a political identity. What we also saw is that a lot of former leading figures who left SDA, after leaving SDA and trying other political organizations or forming their own political parties, failed to maintain comparable influence outside SDA.

Referring to Bećirović, unlike Izetbegović, who was the candidate of SDA in both election cycles, Bećirović was gaining broad coalition support in both cycles. Yet what we saw is that his lead over Izetbegović has now narrowed. He had more than 100,000 votes more than Izetbegović in 2022, and now the difference is only around 20,000 in the preliminary results of 2026. So, I believe that his earlier victory mobilized votes against Izetbegović rather than for himself.

This year, however, Semir Efendić, the president of the Party for Bosnia and Herzegovina, complicated this dilemma between Izetbegović and Bećirović and offered an alternative outside that binary.

So, the point is that voters may distinguish between the party and its leadership but still choose within an ethnically structured political field. Maybe that was not part of the question, but it’s also interesting that, although the presidency members are elected from one of the constituent peoples, they only have to present those constituent peoples in the presidency, not to represent them. However, their campaigns took place within a predominantly monoethnic political arena, so the candidates largely addressed only monoethnic electorates and the interests of the group they want to present and represent.

Collective Representation Is Not Automatically Populist

Among Croats, HDZ BiH again demonstrated its capacity to present itself as the principal guardian of collective representation, with Darijana Filipović winning the Croat presidency seat. How does the longstanding discourse of “legitimate representation” fit into your distinction between ethnonationalism and populism? At what point does a constitutional claim about group representation become a populist claim that one party uniquely embodies the authentic will of the Croat people?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: The demand for collective representation is not automatically populist. But it can become populist when the demand for legitimate representation connects different demands, from electoral reform to autonomy, under a common narrative of collective ethnic vulnerability. It can also become populist when it politically constructs the Croat people as a political subject whose rights and interests are under threat. This is the logic through which HDZ has largely shaped the discourse and agenda of Croat politics in Bosnia and Herzegovina.

The dispute over representation, together with the asymmetrical federal system in Bosnia and Herzegovina, which generated unmet political demands among Croats, helped HDZ consolidate its dominance within the Croat political arena. We also had, during the last 10 years or even more, very weak parts of the Croat opposition to HDZ. But that opposition also adopted the same narrative, challenging HDZ’s leadership while still sharing the central demands from which HDZ gains political relevance.

The victory of Darijana Filipović now gave HDZ something that it was lacking after previous elections: representation inside the presidency. Her victory also institutionally aligned HDZ’s political influence in the country, giving power to HDZ across all levels of the political system.

What may arise as a question right now is whether HDZ’s presence in the presidency can make it harder to sustain the claim that Croats are being excluded by Bosniaks outvoting their candidates, potentially exposing how the representation issue has also served HDZ in consolidating the party’s power. Filipović announced during the election campaign a plan to open an office in Mostar, the office of the Croat member of the presidency in Mostar, something similar to what Milorad Dodik also did regarding the office of the Serb member of the presidency in Republika Srpska.

That can be read not only as something that reinforces the deeper ethnic segregation of the country and the territorial identification of a state-level position with a particular ethnic constituency, but also as an aim of HDZ to consolidate its power.

Also, regarding the opposition, it is interesting territorially that the opposition to HDZ comes from political organizations of Croats from the central part of Bosnia and Herzegovina, while HDZ has a strong political base in Herzegovina, in the south of the country.

The question is whether this consolidation of power that HDZ gained can now weaken the narrative that was connecting different grievances around the idea of legitimate representation. Can it now allow the opposition to mobilize around other demands? That opening is possible, but it will depend on whether the opposition can offer more than a competing claim to defend the same national interests of Croats. Of course, those national interests are being defined exclusively by HDZ.

The People Is Not a Fixed Category

Bosnia, funeral.
Muslims gather for a funeral in Maglaj, Bosnia and Herzegovina, in 2016, with an effendi wearing a turban visible among the crowd. Photo: Damir Đuhera / Dreamstime.

Your article argues that Bosnia is distinctive because political actors compete not only over who represents “the people,” but over which people constitutes the legitimate political community in the first place. After this election, we again have powerful Serb, Bosniak, Croat, and civic conceptions of political belonging operating simultaneously. Does this make Bosnia a particularly revealing case for populism theory precisely because the demos itself remain fundamentally contested?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, because Bosnia makes visible something that the dominant theories of populism take for granted: that the people is politically constructed rather than simply being a fixed category waiting to be represented. In terms of Bosnia and Herzegovina, we do not talk about Serbs, Croats, and Bosniaks as fixed and essential ethnic groups, but rather as political identities that are defined and constructed through their political demands, which interact with institutions, territorial divisions, and struggles over the state itself. This is because all three dominant ethnic political parties do not share the same perception of how Bosnia and Herzegovina should be, how it should be defined, or what the future of the country should be. Of course, their political identities are also defined in relation to the boundaries of what and who can represent them, not only among themselves, but also within the same ethnic group and ethnic community.

Without Alternatives, Abstention Becomes Rational

The election introduced biometric identification and significantly reduced opportunities for manipulation, yet turnout fell to roughly 42 percent and established ethnonational patterns remained remarkably resilient. How should we interpret this combination of cleaner electoral procedures and deep political disengagement? Does it suggest that improving electoral integrity is insufficient when citizens perceive the underlying structure of political choice as closed, repetitive, or ethnically predetermined?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: It was very important to secure those new voting technologies. It was interesting to see that, before introducing the new technologies, you always had complaints from political parties that didn’t gain enough votes, claiming that they had been defrauded or whatever. Now, only one political actor claims that somebody stole his votes or whatever. It gave a bit of legitimacy to the process, and securing electoral procedures is very important.

But I wouldn’t say that electoral integrity and democratic engagement are separate questions, because biometric identification can reduce fraud and make the election procedure more transparent, so that you know that nobody voted who was not supposed to vote, or voted twice, or so on. But it doesn’t do anything if citizens do not see a meaningful political alternative. So, you can have a very transparent and good electoral procedure, but the question is what is offered in the elections.

One of my concerns is that Bosnia and Herzegovina, in recent years, has very often offered changes in governing personnel, but it leaves the main structures of political choice and power largely intact. Even if we have new political actors, those are, in many ways, splinter parties from previously dominant political parties. So, you don’t have new leaders; you just have unsatisfied politicians who could not agree with leaders from their previous political parties, so they decided to form a new political party.

If people do not see alternatives, if they are not satisfied with the previous government but also don’t want to choose the previous actors again, or they simply feel that no party represents their demands strongly, then, in those circumstances, abstention from elections seems to be rational. It can reflect either frustration, a lack of choice, or just the weak mobilization potential of some of the political parties.

However, what I would like to point out here about the turnout, which is around 42%, is that we need to consider that percentage more carefully, because it is based on the official electoral register, which is not the same as the resident population. Citizens who have moved away may remain officially registered, even if they are not participating in the elections. So, we cannot simply conclude that 42% of adults actually living in Bosnia and Herzegovina really voted. What I want to say is that a turnout of 42% of registered voters does not mean that 42% of adults actively living in Bosnia and Herzegovina and registered really voted. They are still on the electoral register, but they are not in the country anymore.

Civic Alternatives Are Needed Across All Constituencies

Your work has repeatedly examined the difficulty of constructing political alternatives to Bosnia’s ethno-determined order. The multi-ethnic Troika suffered an electoral setback while established ethnonational parties remained resilient. Does this result expose a structural weakness of civic politics in Bosnia—namely, that civic actors must compete within institutions that already define political representation through constituent peoples?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: The preliminary results really show an electoral setback for Troika, but I would say it is an uneven setback within Troika. Individual parties of Troika received fewer votes, which is true. But the overall vote share of Troika remained roughly stable—not as influential as before, but roughly stable. Again, I’m saying this based on preliminary results, and it may change in the meantime.

Most of the losses within Troika were concentrated in the People and Justice Party and Naša Stranka (Our Party), while SDP experienced only a smaller decline. This increased SDP’s power within Troika and made Troika, if the coalition lasts—which I’m a bit skeptical about—more dependent on SDP’s electoral strength.

The previous mandate, as I also mentioned in the beginning, shows that replacing one party with another party or coalition does not automatically change the system or the political practices that are being institutionalized. Taking this experience of Troika, Troika is a very unusual ideological and political project. Troika replaced SDA as the predominant Bosniak component of the power-sharing government. But Troika’s alternative to nationalism remained concentrated only within the Bosniak electoral space, without comparable support among the Croat and Serb electorates.

This is the reason why parts of the public interpreted Troika’s compromises with nationalist coalition partners from the Serb and Croat political camps, with whom they shared power, as concessions at the expense of Bosnian political interests. This strengthened the narrative in which pluralism among Bosniak parties appears as fragmentation and weakness against two other more consolidated ethnopolitical blocs.

Overcoming that asymmetry would require credible civic alternatives within all three electoral constituencies, capable of constructing the people around shared democratic and socioeconomic demands beyond ethnic belonging. If such alternatives develop sufficient support and cooperation, they could make coalitions with nationalist parties less politically unavoidable. Otherwise, actors presenting themselves as alternatives to nationalism remain dependent on agreements with those parties.

Shared Problems Do Not Produce Shared Identity

Bosniak people.
Men play on a giant chessboard in a park in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina. Photo: Henrique Weiss / Dreamstime.

Your concept of cross-ethnic populism suggests that common grievances—corruption, unemployment, inequality, institutional failure, lack of accountability—can potentially construct a political “people” across ethnic boundaries. Yet such mobilizations have repeatedly struggled to become durable electoral projects. Why are socioeconomic grievances so easily re-ethnicized in Bosnia, and what does the October 4 result tell us about the ability of ethnonational elites to convert class, governance, or anti-corruption conflicts back into questions of collective ethnic survival?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: What we saw is that having the same problems does not produce a shared political identity. We also see that, on the other side, ethnonationalist parties can use and reinterpret demands about jobs, corruption, or public services as questions of ethnic politics: who controls resources and whether our community is being disadvantaged in relation to other communities.

We could hear this narrative very clearly at the SDA’s final central rally in Sarajevo, where restoring positions to Bosniaks was linked to returning SDA members to those positions. Its control over employment and institutions is seen as a way of restoring Bosniak political strength. We see the same pattern in SNSD, Dodik’s party, in HDZ, and in other political parties.

Meanwhile, as you mentioned, why can’t these mobilizations construct the people across ethnic boundaries? The other problem is that we have a very fragmented media and public sphere in the country, and because of that, it is difficult for citizens to recognize similar problems and similar conflicts that are more essential and existential elsewhere in the country.

Overcoming this would require organizations that can collect everyday grievances into an equivalential chain of demands that can be sustained beyond a single protest or election, which is not happening. This may be a very unpopular option, but those organizations must first build credible support within the ethnic groups, within their own ethnic electoral arenas, and then connect those struggles across ethnic boundaries.

Because there is a significant ideological gap within monoethnic electoral arenas, where opposition to national elites does not develop around redistribution or public services, but around ethnic representation. Of course, only within the Bosniak electoral subsystem do we also see some kind of ideological opposition, but not within the Serb or Croat constituencies.

That is where I see an opening for—and this also may be very unpopular—a populist left within the ethnic groups to bring those demands together and construct the people around shared experiences of inequality and exclusion, rather than their ethnic belonging or party loyalty.

Dayton Rewards Leaders Who Act as Protectors

One of the most important implications of your recent article is that Dayton does not merely constrain populism; its power-sharing architecture may actually structure and reproduce populist possibilities. Thirty years after Dayton, do these election results strengthen the argument that institutional incentives themselves continuously reproduce the political need for Serb, Croat, and Bosniak leaders to demonstrate that their communities are threatened and therefore require exclusive political protection?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, it is a paradox, and it is interesting that the power-sharing principle in Dayton tied access to power to ethnic representation, which made it politically rewarding for leaders to present themselves as protectors, not only representatives, of their communities.

All three ethnic groups have different views of the country and, based on those views, different views of Dayton and the peace that was established. But the common ground among all three ethnic groups is that the Dayton framework is not satisfying for the group.

That’s the reason why the same actors can control institutions, on the one side, while, on the other side, portraying the constitutional order as a threat to their people and claiming that if we, as the legitimate representatives of our people, are not present in the institutions, then the other two groups are present, so we are threatened again.

So, refusing to cooperate with other ethnic representatives can also increase their power, while the institutional safeguards can very easily become political currency rather than simply a tool of protection against domination. Then you have different ways of blocking institutional procedures, meaning blocking the country from fulfilling its basic duties.

This is also why replacing a governing party or overcoming one institutional blockade doesn’t change the consequences—the algorithm that continually reproduces the crisis. The algorithm, of course, is ethnically defined power sharing.

Bosnia Needs a New Political Subjectivity

Photo: Dreamstime.

You make the provocative argument that intra-ethnic populism can, under some conditions, have a democratizing effect by breaking monopolies of representation within monoethnic political subsystems. Looking at the October 4 results, do you see evidence of such productive pluralization anywhere in Bosnia? Or has intra-ethnic competition largely remained competition over who can more credibly represent the same ethnonational project?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, much of that competition still concerns who can defend the same national interests more credibly. So, its potential democratizing effects still remain limited. There is also this dangerous asymmetry, where we can see this pluralism best among predominantly Bosniak parties. But this pluralism can be framed as weakness when the other two ethnic blocs appear more consolidated, which strengthens the ethnonational political party among Bosniaks by claiming that Troika is not sufficient to represent Bosniaks because it is more liberal or whatever and is making concessions to the other two very consolidated ethno-political projects. So, Bosniaks also need a very strong ethno-political project to represent Bosniaks.

The problem is that positioning themselves as intra-ethnic successors to the dominant ethnonationalists means, now in a theoretical way, that you are sharing the same inter-ethnic signifier, which risks becoming a floating signifier whose meaning is suspended or contested between two alternative equivalent frontiers. What you need is another political subjectivity, because sharing the same inter-ethnic signifier complicates the construction of a populist subjectivity that would reconfigure already existing demands and incorporate new demands needed for creating a new political subjectivity beyond the ethnic subjectivity.

Bosnian Populism Is Both Horizontal and Vertical

Bosnia’s populist politics also involves an unusual vertical dimension because “the elite” can mean not only domestic political establishments but also the Office of the High Representative, EU institutions, foreign embassies, and other international actors. How does this external layer alter the classic populist opposition between “the people” and “the elite”? Can international supervision itself become a resource through which domestic actors construct popular sovereignty against an allegedly external governing establishment?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: Yes, international involvement, which is described and defined within the Dayton Peace Agreement, complicates the distinction because domestic leaders can be part of the governing establishment while presenting themselves as opponents of an external elite. It also provides a way to redirect responsibility for their own failures, not only horizontally towards other ethnic groups, but also vertically towards decisions presented as externally imposed.

One example I mentioned in the paper is Milorad Dodik’s description of opposition leaders as “Schmidt Serbs,” associating them with the High Representative, Christian Schmidt, and portraying them as political groups representing the interests of foreigners rather than those of genuine Serb people. SDA also repeatedly portrayed Troika as imposed by international actors against the will of the Bosniak people. This brings an external enemy into an internal political struggle. That’s what I meant by saying that it complicates this distinction, because opponents are framed as serving foreign authority against their own people.

That’s also the reason why we cannot easily place populism in Bosnia and Herzegovina only on a horizontal or vertical line, because it has these overlapping moments and dynamics in relation to ethnic groups, as well as to the political framework and institutions within which the groups are functioning and operating.

The ‘Original Dayton’ Claim Is Paradoxical

Dodik responded to SNSD’s victory by reviving the language of returning to the “original Dayton,” including demands to restore competencies to Republika Srpska. How should we understand such claims within your framework? Is this primarily inter-ethnic populism, a sovereignty discourse, or a particularly Bosnian form of populism in which the constitutional order is simultaneously invoked as legitimate and attacked as having been corrupted by hostile elites?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: That’s an interesting claim. Dodik’s appeal to the original Dayton combines inter-ethnic populism with a claim to sovereignty, but it also involves SNSD presenting itself as giving the genuine interpretation of Serbian interests intra-ethnically. What this means in practice is that it presents Republika Srpska and the Serb people as victims of a political order that is not in their political interests. Their political interest in the 1990s was either autonomy or the idea of remaining in a Serb-dominated Yugoslavia, or something like that. Bosnia and Herzegovina is seen as a political project that was, and is, made up by international actors.

Politically, what I see as important is the question of what this language authorizes in practice. Is it further obstruction of the country and its institutions? Is it building parallel institutions? Or is it a general attempt to weaken the state, rather than simply a dispute about the constitutional history of the country?

It is also interesting why the original Dayton is important for Dodik and his populist claims: in the first version of the Constitution, the authority of state institutions used to be very weak. Referring to the original institutions also means that there is a stronger reliance on international actors. He claims to want to avoid the interference of international actors, which again is a paradox.

Justice Became Trans-Ethnic, but Not Political

Bosnian civil war.
Bosnian civil war. Naim Pasić mourns the loss of his wife and daughter at Lion Cemetery in Sarajevo, Bosnia and Herzegovina, on June 2, 1993. Pasić, 58, had left home to gather food for his family and returned to find his house destroyed and his wife and daughter dead. Tens of thousands of Bosnian civilians had been killed during the first year of the war. Photo: Mark Milstein / Northfoto / Dreamstime.

Your wider research on social movements and civic participation asks whether citizens can construct political subjectivities outside established ethnopolitical structures. From the 2014 plenums to accountability movements and other forms of civic mobilization, Bosnia has periodically produced moments in which ordinary citizens articulate an “us” against unresponsive institutions. Why have these moments proved so difficult to translate into sustained cross-ethnic electoral organization? Is the problem organizational weakness, institutional design, depoliticization, elite co-optation—or the absence of a sufficiently powerful alternative conception of “the people”?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: I will start with the last one: a sufficiently powerful alternative conception of the people has not been able to be politically constructed because of a combination of organizational weaknesses, institutional obstacles, very strong ethnonationalist backlash and countermobilization, and the difficulty of sustaining a common political identification that crosses ethnic borders.

The movements around Dženan Memić in Sarajevo and David Dragičević in Banja Luka are an important example because that was the first time there was one political idea—the idea of justice—that became trans-ethnic, that both ethnic groups could rely on and see as a strong political demand. However, that demand could not create a stable chain of equivalence that would provide a joint, common construction of the people capable of crossing ethnic identification.

As my research shows, that common demand for justice also carried different objectives. It was not sufficiently an empty signifier in that manner because, in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina, in Sarajevo, it required stronger institutional accountability, while in Republika Srpska, it was a more direct challenge to the ruling regime.

But both actors in the protests never challenged the political system or the political constitution and never had any other goal beyond fighting for their own problem, for their own aim, which was very personal and very tragic because of the personal experience they faced. There was also no political actor that could transfer those demands into one wider political project.

So, solidarity crossed entity and ethnic borders, but it did not engage all constituencies equally. For instance, it was a matter between Bosniaks and Serbs, but it was not something that affected Croats in any way. It also did not consolidate into a shared political project capable of constructing a political identity in the first place.

A Credible Left Is Needed Across All Communities

And finally, Professor Hasanović, your work on the post-Dayton possibilities for the Left asks whether an alternative to ethno-determined politics can emerge from within the very system that entrenches it. After October 4, what pathway appears more plausible: attempting to construct an immediately cross-ethnic civic demos, or first pluralizing political competition within Serb, Bosniak, and Croat constituencies so that ideological, socioeconomic, and democratic cleavages gradually become more important than ethnic ones? Could such intra-ethnic pluralization eventually provide the bridge toward genuinely cross-ethnic politics?

Dr. Jasmin Hasanović: I believe that you referred to my work on the paper about the Left after Dayton—the earlier attempts to build a multi-ethnic left failed to gain support across electoral arenas. SDP is the best example of that because SDP presents itself as multi-ethnic, which is true, but its electoral support remains concentrated in predominantly Bosniak arenas.

Also, SDP’s prominent figures, like Denis Bećirović, who has now again been re-elected to the presidency from SDP, often speak in terms of exclusively Bosniak concerns. It is understandable that parties adapt their language to the voters who elect them. But, in that way, a multi-ethnic identity would require more than a declaration. It would require building support and trust across communities, which is very hard.

SDP has often been criticized for becoming a Bosniak left. My criticism is different. My criticism is not that SDP is becoming a Bosniak left, but that SDP is not a Bosniak left. It has neither articulated what a left would stand for—and, in practice, it shows very un-left politics—nor managed to build a convincing political left project among Bosniaks.

The problem is less where its voters come from than which demands mobilize them and whether those demands can be connected with similar struggles among Serbs and Croats. If you are democratizing and pluralizing within Serb, Bosniak, and Croat constituencies, but that pluralization is only for the continuation of ethnic representation, that is not the point.

What I see as a way of building the left is to work within the ethnic constituencies while deliberately building connections across them. So, a credible left is needed among Serbs and Croats as much as among Bosniaks. A credible left, even if that can be unpopular, can populistically create a political subjectivity demanding secure jobs, decent wages, and affordable housing. For instance, housing is a very common problem, not only in the world, but also in Bosnia. Universal healthcare, education, the problem of depopulation—a lot of people from Bosnia, from all three ethnic groups, are leaving the country.

Also, the credible left should talk about freedom from dependence on party connections but also oppose historical revisionism and the glorification of war criminals in all of its forms and be built on anti-fascist ideas. Such a politics must challenge elites within each community first, while refusing to make ethnic exclusivity the basis of its own program. But this development might be uneven between different ethnic groups. This is something that is still a challenge to be built, and those oppositions that I mentioned earlier are opening the space, but the dynamics that will shape those possibilities remain to emerge.

 

Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões.

Assoc. Prof. Casarões: What Really Died on October 4 Was Brazil’s Democratic Pact Itself

Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões argues Brazil’s October 4 election marks more than a contest between Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro: it signals a deeper transformation of the country’s democratic order. Assoc. Prof. Casarões contends that “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself,” while stressing that this does not mean democracy has ended. He sees Bolsonarism as still fundamentally personalistic, continuing to revolve around Jair Bolsonaro even as Flávio emerges as its electoral standard-bearer. The interview explores identity polarization, Christian nationalism, punitive security politics, Trumpism, and the transnational far right, while also examining Lulism’s growing association with the establishment. Together, these dynamics place Brazil at what Assoc. Prof. Casarões describes as a consequential political “crossroads.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Brazil’s October 4, 2026 presidential election produced a first-round result that significantly altered the political landscape ahead of the October 25 runoff. Flávio Bolsonaro finished first with about 47% of the vote, ahead of incumbent President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on 45.1%, while right- and far-right forces also performed strongly in congressional and gubernatorial contests. The outcome sharpened the confrontation between Lulism and a post-Jair form of Bolsonarism, while also raising broader questions about the resilience of Brazil’s post-authoritarian democratic settlement, the institutionalization of the radical right, and the future of political representation in the country. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Guilherme Casarões, Associate Professor of Brazilian Studies at Florida International University, argues that the significance of October 4 extends well beyond the immediate electoral competition between Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro. For Assoc. Prof. Casarões, the most consequential development is not simply the continued strength of Bolsonarism without Jair Bolsonaro on the ballot, but what the election reveals about the transformation of Brazil’s democratic order. As he puts it, “what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself.”

Assoc. Prof. Casarões is careful to stress that this does not mean Brazilian democracy has ended. Rather, he argues that the political pact sustaining democracy since the transition from military rule in the mid-1980s and its constitutional consolidation in 1988 “is now gone, or at least seems to be over for now.” In his view, this makes the 2026 election even more consequential than the watershed contests of 2018 and 2022. Brazil, he argues, has reached “a crossroads,” with the future character of its democratic system increasingly uncertain. 

At the same time, Assoc. Prof. Casarões resists interpreting Flávio Bolsonaro’s success as evidence that Bolsonarism has already become fully institutionalized. Despite the son’s electoral rise and the growing importance of the Liberal Party, he maintains that the movement “still gravitates around the image of Bolsonaro the father” and remains “a very personalistic movement.” Ultimately, he suggests, Bolsonarism still resembles “a cult of a person,” and “this person is Jair Bolsonaro himself.”

The interview develops this diagnosis across a wider set of themes: the decline of policy-based competition and the rise of identity polarization; Christian nationalism and the religious-populist radical right; punitive approaches to crime; the transnational circulation of far-right ideas; and the interaction between Trumpism and Bolsonarism. Assoc. Prof. Casarões also examines the contrasting trajectory of Lulism, arguing that Lula has increasingly come to symbolize the establishment itself. Taken together, his analysis presents October 4 not merely as an electoral upset, but as a possible marker of a deeper reconfiguration of Brazil’s democratic and populist politics. 

Here is our interview with Associate Professor Guilherme Casarões, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Bolsonarism Is Not Yet Institutionalized

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

Professor Casarões, welcome. Let me begin with the transformation of Bolsonarism itself. Brazil’s first-round result appears to represent something more structurally significant than another confrontation between the political camps created around Lula and Jair Bolsonaro. With Jair Bolsonaro himself absent from the ballot and Flávio Bolsonaro not only emerging as the principal candidate of the right but actually finishing first with about 47% of the vote, are we witnessing the transformation of Bolsonarism from a highly personalized populist movement into a more durable political identity? What would distinguish the institutionalization of Bolsonarism from the simple continuation of the Bolsonaro family?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: That’s a great question and let me take a step back just to refer to what I think is the biggest change after the October 4th elections in Brazil. I think that—and this is something that I’ve argued in a very recent piece that I wrote for The Conversation website—what really died, or what really was defeated on October 4th, was Brazil’s democratic pact itself.

By saying this, I’m not implying that Brazilian democracy is over. What I’m trying to say is that the pact that has sustained Brazil’s democracy for over 40 years, starting in the mid-80s, being written into the Constitution of 1988, and sustaining Brazil’s democracy ever since then, is now gone, or at least seems to be over for now. There’s a big change going on in Brazil, therefore making the 2026 elections in the country even more consequential than the 2018 and 2022 elections. This is why we are at a crossroads right now. There’s something going on. We don’t know exactly how to describe what Brazil’s democracy is going to look like in the future, if at all, but this is an important caveat to make.

Now, as for Bolsonarismo, we have other examples around the world of children of very popular politicians who become leaders of movements themselves. That’s the case of Marine Le Pen in France. If we think about the transition between Jean-Marie Le Pen and Marine Le Pen, there’s a big inheritance, but also a big transformation between these two moments of leadership. We also have something along similar lines in Peru, with Alberto Fujimori back in the 1990s and early 2000s, and now we have Keiko Fujimori, who is Peru’s current president. So, this is not very unusual, if you think about it, politics is also hereditary in many ways.

Bolsonarism Is Still a Cult of Jair Bolsonaro

But I don’t think that the case of Brazil really represents a break, or an evolution, for that matter. We are not yet witnessing the institutionalization of Bolsonarismo in Brazil, because everything still revolves very much around the figure of Jair Bolsonaro, the former president who’s now serving 27 years in prison under house arrest for attempting a coup d’état back in 2022. He was convicted in 2025. But the references are almost entirely directed at him. The movement still gravitates around the image of Bolsonaro the father. He was the one, to be sure, who handpicked his oldest son, Flávio, to succeed him on the ballot in 2026.

However, I’m not sure, and I don’t believe that we are at the point of institutionalization of a movement yet. It’s still a very personalistic movement. We are yet to see what Flávio’s going to make of his own party. Flávio ran on the ticket of the Liberal Party of Brazil. Bolsonaro was also affiliated with this party. This has become more and more the party of Bolsonarismo in the country, but the Liberal Party has been around for much longer.

It never really represented Bolsonaro. He used it more than anything else. That was a very recent turn taken by Bolsonaro himself back in 2021 in order to run, because in Brazil you need to be affiliated with a party in order to run, and I think that if it depended entirely on Bolsonaro the father, he wouldn’t really have a party. He tried to create one from scratch, and he couldn’t.

What we have in Brazil, which is a multi-party-political system, is that the Bolsonarista movement captured one of the parties that was just lying there, a party that sees a great benefit in joining the rank and file of Bolsonarismo, and that’s where we are right now. Therefore, we might have to wait for another electoral cycle. Or this is something that’s going to happen along the way between right now and 2030, but the point is that it’s not fully institutionalized yet.

We might see this transition happen at some point down the road, but I still think that, if I could describe Bolsonarismo as a political movement, it really seems to me like a cult of a person, and this person is Jair Bolsonaro himself.

Lulism Became Personalistic, but Lula Remained Institutional

Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva walks among supporters on Augusta Street at São Paulo on the eve of the brazillian election on October 1, 2022. Photo: Yuri Murakami.

Conversely, the first-round result also sharpens the succession problem for Lulism. Lula remains the principal integrative figure of the Brazilian left, yet he finished behind Flávio Bolsonaro despite entering the election expecting to win in the first round. Should Lulism itself be understood as a variety of left populism, and if so, how does its populism differ analytically from the moral polarization, anti-establishment rhetoric, and cultural politics associated with Bolsonarism?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: Let me unpack these points. The first thing readers have to understand about Brazil is that the very same political elites who took power back in the mid-80s, after the end of a 21-year military dictatorship in the country, are the same elites who are still in power today. That’s true for the right and the left. You see, Bolsonaro himself—now he’s in jail—but he was a congressman for 28 years before getting elected president in 2018. Even though he used to depict himself as an outsider, as an anti-establishment candidate, we know for a fact that the same guys who have been around for over 30 years now, they were the ones who, if not established the New Republic, as we call Brazil’s post-dictatorship moment, were there from the get-go.

I don’t think that this is something that a lot of people understand about Brazil. Lula himself has been around for a very long time. He was the founder of the Workers’ Party back in 1979, and he very quickly rose to become one of the most popular politicians in Brazil. He ran for president in Brazil’s first direct presidential elections in 1989. He ran again in 1994 and in 1998, and he was defeated in the first three elections he ran. Then he got elected in 2002, got elected again in 2006. He handpicked his successor, Dilma Rousseff, in 2010, who then won again in 2014.

Lula was about to make a comeback in 2018, but he was put in prison, and he couldn’t run at the end of the day, so he ran again in 2022. We’re talking about so many elections. I mean, six and a half, if we consider 2018 as an election that he could have run, and he ended up not being able to, and now it’s the seventh time. He ran for president. He runs for president. I’m not going to say things in the past because the election is still not decided, but let’s consider that, despite what happens on October 25th, Lula’s going to be a seven-timer when it comes to presidential elections.

People are tired of this. They are tired for many reasons. I mean, Lula is 80 years old. Of course, in today’s world, it’s not unusual to have leaders who are over 80 or over 70, and that’s totally fine. But the fact that he was president for three full terms, the fact that he was able to choose his own successor, who was impeached in 2016—and there are many explanations for the impeachment proceedings—she was very unpopular. She drove, according to many, Brazil to its worst economic crisis in generations.

Because of that, we are witnessing a politician who is very popular on the one hand and, of course, very acclaimed internationally because of all his diplomatic feats, but who’s also very much worn down on the other hand. He doesn’t look tired if you watch his speech at the General Assembly of the United Nations or if you watch Lula in action during the campaign. He doesn’t seem tired, but people are tired of him.

Is he a populist? I don’t think he’s a populist. If you look at the definitions of populism that we work with on a daily basis, it’s mostly about the division between the elite and the people and, of course, claiming that he, or the populist leader, is the only one able to speak on behalf of the people, maybe with a capital P. This is not Lula.

Lula Has Become the Target of Political Dissatisfaction

Let me explain to you why I think it’s not the case. Lula might have been very divisive during campaigns. Indeed, if you go back to 1989, or 1994, 1998, or even 2002, he was always talking about the elites versus the people. And he, being a former metal worker and somebody who came from a very poor background back in the 1950s or 1940s, identifies with the people, and that’s all true. But the behavior of populists must go beyond elections. Elections are naturally moments in which you see some division flourish because you have to draw lines between yourself and your opponents. Populism goes beyond that. A populist has to govern using the same strategies or the same narratives that have allowed this person to get elected in the first place. 

This is not Lula. Ever since he was elected for the first time in 2002 and took office the next year, he’s been super institutional. He’s been one of the most institutional presidents that we’ve ever had, and that might explain at least part of his success. So, there is Lulismo in the sense that there was a time, especially with the first corruption scandals that go back to 2005, when we might have seen a moment when Lula detached himself from the Workers’ Party. This is when one very famous commentator in Brazilian politics, André Singer, wrote a book about the rise of Lulismo, or Lulism, as opposed to petismo, or Workers’ Partyism. He was basically describing the opposite trajectory of the far right. The far right moves from the personal to the institutional, and PT and Lula were moving from the institutional to a more personalistic approach to politics. That’s true, but Lula as a president has been something else. He has been very institutional. He has been very willing to make concessions and to cooperate and to negotiate.

You can look at it from a positive perspective and basically say, “okay, this is great.” Lula is a man who’s been able to advance a lot of very important policies regarding the reduction of inequality in the country, the reduction of poverty, and social welfare policies of many different kinds. That was all good, and that was all made through a lot of concession and a lot of negotiation. 

But at the same time, because he’s been so willing to negotiate and to make concessions ever since he got elected for the first time, a lot of people identify him as the representative of the establishment. So, whenever there’s a corruption scandal, whenever there’s something that Brazil’s democracy can no longer deliver, people will naturally blame it on Lula himself because he’s the face of Brazil’s democratic pact. He’s the face of Brazil’s establishment in so many ways. 

And the more people get frustrated with the establishment, the more people hate everything that’s going on in Brazilian politics, they will look at Lula and say, you are the one to blame because you’ve been around for so long. It’s not populism, but it’s a personalistic identification with the system, which is, by definition, the opposite of populism in so many ways, that has made Lula so popular, but also the preferential target of pretty much every single dissatisfaction we’ve seen in Brazil for the last 20 years or so.

Brazil’s Political Divide Is Now About Identity

Flávio Bolsonaro.
Senator Flávio Bolsonaro during a pro-amnesty demonstration in support of former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo | Dreamstime.

The first round now seems to confirm that Brazil is confronting two highly developed political identities: Bolsonarism as a cultural, moral, religious, and anti-establishment formation, and Lulism as a socially redistributive and inclusion-oriented coalition. At the same time, the strength of Bolsonarista candidates in congressional and gubernatorial races suggests that the right’s political identity extends well beyond the presidential contest. Does this mean that Brazilian polarization is becoming more deeply institutionalized even as it becomes somewhat less dependent on Lula and Jair Bolsonaro personally?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I believe so, and there’s a reason for this. You’ve correctly pointed out that polarization has just grown in Brazil. It’s hard to be super rigorous when it comes to polarization, because there are many different hypotheses about this. Some people just dismiss the idea that there is polarization to begin with. I think there is, and it shows not only in presidential elections, but also in the rhetoric that we have seen politicians embrace over the last eight years. It has become more divisive. It has become more violent and aggressive, especially on the side of the far right.

I would say that the big division, or the big chasm, between the two major political groups in the country today—Bolsonarismo on the one hand, and the left progressives or Lulismo on the other—happens around identity lines. So, it’s not necessarily a matter of policy.

You see, back in the 1990s or the 2000s, the PT, the Workers’ Party, was running against the Social Democratic Party, which was the center-right party of that time, and they were fundamentally disagreeing around policy. I mean, what’s the best policy for our economic adjustment? What is the best policy to tame inflation? What is the best policy to include more and more poor people into the job market or into the schooling system? So those were the conversations back in the day. To be fair, I really miss them because those were programmatic discussions. Those were relevant, tangible policy discussions. What we see today is mostly about identity.

On the one hand, you have a project that’s been around for at least 40 years. This is not the Workers’ Party. That was the consensus that Brazil got to after the end of the military dictatorship. What was this consensus about? Number one, the idea of Brazil being a diverse country. Diversity was part of the idea of what being a Brazilian was. Diversity of race, diversity of religion, even diversity of parties and political positions. This very pluralistic notion of a diverse country is at the base of Brazilian politics. That’s been around for a long time. I would even go as far as to say that even during the times of the military dictatorship, some of the consensus around what the Brazilian identity was already there. That was the identity consensus that the PT embraced and built upon.

What Bolsonaro offers, on the other hand, and he’s been offering this ever since he ran for the first time in 2018, and even more so now, is a very different identity that I could describe in one idea, which is the idea of Christian nationalism. You see, what the Bolsonaro family and movement are trying to push is the notion that you can only be a true Brazilian if you belong to a specific faith. Of course, it’s not just about religious affiliation. You can be a Catholic, you can be an evangelical Christian, a Protestant. You can be a spiritualist of any kind, as long as you think about the world in terms of these conservative culture-war values, you belong.

It was interesting because, just to illustrate this point, back in 2017, Bolsonaro was running. He was in his pre-campaign, and he was at a rally in a state in the northeast of Brazil, and he very explicitly said, unlike what people think, Brazil’s a Christian country. Minorities must bow to the majority of this country. He was basically saying this country belongs to Christians and not to anyone else.

The week after that, he was interviewed by a YouTube channel of the Jewish community in Brazil. There are a lot of Jews in Brazil who’ve supported Bolsonaro from the very beginning because they saw Bolsonaro as the savior of relations between Brazil and Israel at the time. Bolsonaro was the first and the only candidate so far who vowed to transfer the embassy of Brazil from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem. We know that back in the early Trump years, that was something that mattered a lot to many countries. So, basically, he was interviewed by this Brazilian Jewish channel on YouTube, and he got the question: You said that Brazil is a Christian country. What about the Jews? And Bolsonaro then responded, “Aren’t Jews Christians too?”

Christian Nationalism Is Central to Bolsonarista Identity

So, it tells us that it’s not about religion. It’s about something bigger. It’s about the notion of belonging along the lines of identity. Jews can be Christians in this regard. Even some Muslims can be Christians in this regard, depending on your political views, depending on your worldviews in general. So, identity is key to understanding the big divide that we find ourselves in in Brazil right now. But there’s something that goes beyond that.

Brazil’s not the United States. Brazil has always had a multi-party system since the end of the Second World War. And because of that, Brazil’s democracy has always been built around consensus. Of course, consensus can be good and bad. If you pursue a lot of consensuses, then you’re probably not going to get very far. You’re not going to get anywhere, because you’re always trying to build a super-consensual position that’s possibly not going to work fully. But that’s what Brazil’s democracy has always looked like, at least over the last 40 years.

One of the things that Bolsonaro has proposed, and that’s another very important division right there, is a different democracy, not based on consensus, but based on the majority. But we can name this, if you want, the tyranny of the majority. This is, in many ways, what populism is also about: the notion that as long as I’m enabled to speak on behalf of the people, it doesn’t matter if 50% of the country voted for me, or 80%. I will be able to govern only for those who voted for me in the first place. 

This divisive notion of democracy, which is certainly not compatible with our own understanding of what a liberal democracy is, is also part of Bolsonaro’s repertoire, is also part of what he’s been standing for. It’s a combination of things, but I think that it goes on a very social dimension and also runs to the institutional dimension along identity lines, which are very different from the ones that we have become used to in Brazil.

Bolsonarism Defines the People by Who Does Not Belong

Your work on populism emphasizes its capacity to divide political space between a morally legitimate “people” and forces portrayed as threatening that community. In the wake of the first round, who exactly constitutes “the people” in the Flávio Bolsonaro version of the Bolsonarista imaginary? Is he reproducing Jair Bolsonaro’s construction of ordinary Brazilians against political, judicial, cultural, and intellectual elites, or has the electoral success of October 4 encouraged a broader and potentially more institutionalized version of this populist identity?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: That’s a good question. Flávio has never really been openly explicit about who the people are. The people are basically those who vote for him, who voted for his father in 2018 and 2022. Of course, he throws some ideas around at times, such as: you got to be conservative. So, the true Brazilian is conservative. The true Brazilian respects family values. The true Brazilian is in favor of individual freedoms and liberties. The true Brazilian is Christian—and again, in a very enlarged, weak definition of what Christianity is, because it’s a Christian nationalist thing, not necessarily a religious thing. This is the people defined by Flávio Bolsonaro. 

But most importantly, one of the great abilities of the far right in Brazil—and that’s also true for many other countries, the United States and some Latin American countries as well, but that also includes Europe—is that identity is not only defined by what you project about what the people should be, or what the people are. Identity is also established around the negatives, around what people are not. As important as saying that people are Christian and conservative and pro-family and whatnot, we also have the other side, which is demonizing different expressions of what Brazilian society should be. Of course, if you’re a follower of an Afro-Brazilian religion, it’s going to be very hard for you to fit into this notion of Christianity. If you’re progressive, or woke, as they call it, it’s going to be very hard for you to be part of that idea of society. If you’re LGBTQ, or if you’re a woman—especially a woman who stands for her own right to be autonomous and to do her own things—that doesn’t really sit well with the traditional family idea.

This project of Bolsonarismo as a movement is not so much just about constructing who they think the people are but also defining the enemies of the people. That happens on a regular basis, and it happens as we speak. Those are moving targets because sometimes all it takes is somebody from Bolsonaro’s inner circle to call you a communist. Then you’re going to become a communist in the eyes of whoever’s looking at you. It’s not just about what you do; it’s about how people want to portray you. It’s interesting to see, for example, that in the political world, there were a lot of former Bolsonaro allies who’ve become communists overnight because Bolsonaro said so at some point in the past. This is an interesting thing. We’re talking about identity, and this identity is not yet institutionalized, because it would take maybe a generation of a different education system, a different perspective of history, and different laws to allow this identity to fully reveal itself and to become an integral part of Brazil’s institutions.

But the message is already there. Of course, with a strong presence in both chambers—we’re talking about pluralities, of course, not a majority of 50 plus 1%—Flávio Bolsonaro will probably have, if he gets elected, more than a quarter of the House of Representatives and more than a quarter of the seats in the Senate as well, just about a third, really. So, it’s unprecedented. Never before in Brazil’s 40-year democracy have we had a party with so many seats in both houses of the legislative branch. If they want to start changing laws, if they want to start changing education, if they want to start redefining what Brazil is as a country, now is the time for them to do it.

The Populist Right Turns Fear of Crime into a Promise

Streets of favela Vidigal in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on May 30, 2015. Photo: Donatas Dabravolskas.

Public security was one of the major concerns of voters in the first round, alongside the economy, sovereignty, and corruption. Flávio Bolsonaro has campaigned on a particularly punitive approach to crime, including proposals to designate gangs as terrorist organizations and create maximum-security prisons modeled on El Salvador. How does security become a specifically populist issue? Does radical-right populism gain traction by transforming legitimate concerns about violence into a broader moral distinction between “honest citizens,” dangerous outsiders, permissive elites, and supposedly obstructive institutions?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: People are afraid, people are scared, and violence plays a very important role in that. Of course, you can use many different scare tactics to bring people to your political camp. You can talk about transgender people using different-sex bathrooms. You can talk about transgender people in sports. You can talk about Muslims being a religious menace to the country.

But in the case of most developing countries out there—that might also be true for the United States, but let’s stick to the Third World for a minute, to the developing world—violence is very real. Violence is deeply structural because it runs on inequality. It runs deep into the big class divides of society. So, people have many reasons to be scared.

It used to be a middle-class problem, maybe back in the 1970s or the 1980s, but nowadays it’s more and more everyone’s problem. Even poor people are having their phones taken away. Even poor people are having their houses broken into. That’s a problem that somehow binds Latin American countries together, because these countries are going through the very same things. Violent crime is on the rise. We have a lot of organized crime groups that promote chaos in many of these countries. Drug trafficking is a real issue, gun trafficking and arms trafficking are real issues, and, of course, mortality rates are also going up because of gun violence in most of these countries.

So yes, I totally understand why people are scared. I also understand that it’s much easier for the right to tap into this fear and turn it into a promise. We don’t know if this promise is going to be fulfilled, and I don’t think it’s going to be fulfilled at all, unless you embrace a model along the lines of Nayib Bukele in El Salvador, which is a very specific thing that might work for a country as tiny as El Salvador, but certainly won’t work for Colombia or Brazil or Argentina or Mexico, which are much bigger countries.

So, I think that we have a problem, because the only example that the right has, when it comes to being tough on crime, is an example of a semi-dictatorial or authoritarian regime at this point. But it’s interesting to see that all the opponents of Lula in this race of 2026 have, at some point, mentioned the Bukele model as something that they looked up to. Flávio Bolsonaro was no exception.

This also serves as a point of identity, because one of the first big divisions that Bolsonaro the father would play out, a couple of years before the presidential race, was between the good citizens and the criminals. So, if you support him, you’re a good citizen. If you support the Workers’ Party, if you support the left or communism, you’re also a criminal. Or at least you’re vouching for criminals all the time.

Populism Offers Simple Solutions to Complex Security Problems

Of course, it doesn’t add up in reality because they say they are against crime, but most of the people who’ve been elected on the right, and even Flávio Bolsonaro himself, have massive charges of corruption and a lot of investigations going around. These guys are not clean at all, and some of them—Flávio Bolsonaro himself—have a very close relationship with organized crime groups in Rio de Janeiro, which is one of the most populous states in the country.

Therefore, it’s a fictitious division, but it’s a division that really resonates with people because what they are basically saying is, if you vote for me, I’m going to prevent you from getting robbed again. I’m going to prevent you from having a gun pointed at you again.

Of course, there’s no magical solution for that. Bolsonaro the father, while he was in office, wasn’t able to change a lot. The only thing that he really changed during his tenure was that he passed a lot of laws deregulating gun control in Brazil, meaning that a lot of citizens now have more access to guns than ever before. It hasn’t really solved the problem of crime or violent crime.

So basically, that’s a good point, because this is extremely populist, if you think about it. Populism is also about coming up with magical solutions, very simple solutions for generally very complex problems. Public security is one of the realms in which the right has been able to offer the simplest of solutions, which is either putting everybody in prison—that’s the Bukele model—or what they believe is the US model, which is basically giving guns away to everyone. Neither of those models really solves the problem. But people still have hope that this is something they can hold on to: maybe Brazil’s going to be better in the future. I don’t think it’s going to be, not with that kind of policy.

Religious Politicization Is on the Rise

Brazil.
People take part in the celebration of Yemanjá in Salvador, Bahia, Brazil on February 2, 2019. Photo: Ember Stefano | Dreamstime.

Religion is central to your scholarship on Bolsonaro. In your work with Ricardo Barbosa Jr., you propose the category of the “religious-populist radical right,” arguing that religion provides not only ideas but also organizational resources and social power through which the radical right can capture institutions and participate in transnational culture wars. How useful is this concept for understanding the first-round result, particularly given Flávio Bolsonaro’s strength among evangelical Christians and Lula’s continuing advantage among Catholics?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: This is a very interesting paradox, because, as Pippa Norris and other authors have demonstrated very recently, religious affiliation is decreasing worldwide, meaning that we live in a world that’s not as religious as it used to be, certainly not 40 or 80 years ago. The paradox is precisely the fact that even though religious affiliation is declining, religious politicization is on the rise, meaning that those who are trying to hold on to religion are becoming more and more political.

We used to live in a society that had a clear division between what’s religious and what’s political. Of course, it’s impossible to prevent these things from overlapping occasionally. But all in all, secularism had prevailed, and that was the original thought.

Then, as early as 1993, an American sociologist called Mark Juergensmeyer wrote a book called The New Cold War?, in which he defends the idea that what’s new about the end of the Cold War is precisely the rise of religious nationalism. When he wrote this book back in 1993, he was talking about religious nationalism in some parts of the Middle East, religious nationalism in some parts of South Asia, religious nationalism in some parts of Africa, and that was that. He himself even treated that as a peripheral phenomenon.

What we have seen over the last 30 years, however, is the mainstreaming of religious nationalism. If you look at it today, a lot of far-right movements are very closely tied to this new identity of religious nationalism. If you think about Vladimir Putin in Russia, there was a turn at some point between 2012 and 2016 in which he became very close to Orthodox Christianity in Russia.

Erdoğan, in Turkey—he was elected as Prime Minister back in 2002. Of course, the AKP was always very religion-infused, but at the same time, it wasn’t a religious party, strictly speaking, and he has become more and more religious with time. The whole idea of making Russia Imperial Russia once again, or making Turkey Ottoman Turkey once again, these are all very strong religious tropes.

What’s interesting about religious nationalism today, and that’s one of Juergensmeyer’s theses, is that it attaches itself to an idea of civilization as well. No matter if you’re a Catholic, a Protestant, or an Evangelical Christian in Brazil, Argentina, Peru, or, above all, the United States, irrespective of your specific religious affiliation, you have this civilizational notion that has to be preserved. We have to protect what a lot of people across the hemisphere have called the Judeo-Christian tradition.

I could have mentioned other examples, and Israel and India are also very important examples of the mainstreaming of religious nationalism. If you look at Benjamin Netanyahu’s government right now, it’s pretty ethno-religious. It’s even more than just religious. If you look at India’s BJP and Modi, their core ideology is Hindutva, which is basically Hindu nationalism as well.

Religion and Populism Are Formidable Together

What I’m trying to say here, and that’s the reason why Barbosa and I came up with this notion of the religious-populist radical right, is basically that what we see today is precisely the mainstreaming of such religious ideas and the fusion of these religious ideas with populism. If populism is about creating this divide between the people and the elites, now the people are the religious ones. The religion of the people is the fundamental thing that has to be observed and has to be somehow preserved in these countries.

It was born out of a case study about Brazil. But it brings a more universal lesson for what we have experienced in many parts of the world. Religion and populism are formidable together. They are able to produce many important results, especially because they speak not only to the organizational side of things, they speak not only to the money that fuels all these movements, but they speak fundamentally about belonging and about identity. This is what makes it so strong.

Europe might be an exception. I just want to mention this, because I don’t want to elaborate on this, but I think it’s important to make a distinction here. We talk about the far right, treating them as though they were part of the very same set of ideas, and, of course, European far-right movements are also very much civilizational, but it’s not necessarily along religious lines.

France and Germany say little about religion, whereas Spain and Portugal say a little bit more about religion. Europe is a more complicated mosaic that we have to look into, but in Latin America and the United States, the hemisphere has become fundamentally Christian nationalist. That’s an important take on whatever’s going on right now in our part of the world.

Religion Is a Powerful Transnational Force in the Americas

Christ the Redeemer statue.
Tourists enjoy the first sunset after a week of rain and thunderstorms from Corcovado Hill, overlooking Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, on March 3, 2013, with the Christ the Redeemer statue above the city. Photo: Kseniya Ragozina / Dreamstime.

Your research also suggests that Christian nationalism under Bolsonaro was not merely domestic but transnational: religious narratives shaped alliances, culture-war agendas, relations with Israel, and participation in conservative international initiatives. To what extent has this transnational religious nationalism survived Jair Bolsonaro’s presidency and become embedded in the broader Brazilian right? Does Flávio Bolsonaro’s first-round victory suggest that this infrastructure can continue shaping Brazilian politics and foreign policy without Jair Bolsonaro personally returning to power?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: Over this summer, I taught a course called Transnational Politics in Latin America. My original idea was to talk about the transnational far right in Latin America. That was my obsession. But it turns out that I decided to take a step back and look at the much bigger picture of transnationalism in Latin America, from colonial times all the way down to today. Basically, it was a course on so many different angles of transnationalism in Latin America.

One of the things that I learned from that course, based on the readings that I put together and the discussions that I had in the classroom, was precisely that religion has been one of the most transnational things connecting countries in Latin America or in the Americas, by and large. Because if you think about the beginning of the colonization of the Americas, especially Spanish and Portuguese America, meaning Latin America in general, it all starts not only with Spain and Portugal, but with the Jesuits, with the Catholics from that time. So, colonization had a very strong transnational component, and this component was the Catholic faith, evangelization, missionary work, and so on and so forth.

What we see during the Cold War is another chapter of the same process. But now, we’re not talking about religion coming out of Europe to change the landscape of Latin America. From the 1960s on, in the middle of the Cold War, we’re talking about the Protestant faith, in a way, trying to challenge not only communist atheism but also, and most importantly, what became known as liberation theology in Latin America.

So, we have to put things in context and remember that in Latin America, the Catholic Church took a turn to the left in the 1960s and 1970s, so much so that Pope John Paul II from Poland went after these bottom-up grassroots movements of the Catholic Church because they were, according to the official doctrine of the church, becoming communists themselves.

Protestantism emerged out of the United States. Of course, Protestantism is also very national. We have national churches being built, or national movements being created in El Salvador, the Dominican Republic, Brazil, Paraguay, and the list is pretty long. But at the same time, there was a very important push by US administrations, by the CIA, by a number of US-based churches, to project this faith transnationally onto Latin America during the Cold War.

This is important because what we see right now—the growth of evangelicalism in Brazil, in Chile, in Argentina, in a lot of Central American countries—is precisely the unfolding of this process. It’s a long shot, of course, but it has paid off. Brazil, for example, when I was born in the 1980s, had around 5 to 7% evangelical Christians. In 2026, Brazil has about 30% of the population as evangelical Christians. It’s a big change.

Some countries have become evangelical-majority countries, as opposed to the Catholic majority that has always dominated the landscape in Latin America. My point is that evangelicals have become more and more consequential.

Evangelicalism Has Helped Turn Conservative Ideas into Policy

Of course, one of the transnational nodes that we can identify is precisely cultural war. One of the things that evangelical churches, movements, and leaders import from the United States, in exchange among them, is the fight against abortion, the fight against LGBTQ rights, the fight against drugs, which is framed in a very specific way, traditional family values, Christian nationalism, Christian Zionism, which is the love for Israel. All these things are, in many ways, the web that connects all these churches and movements around the region.

So, as much as Bolsonarismo as a movement is transnational, and religion plays an important role in that, the far right in Latin America is born out of transnational forces. And, of course, religion is also a very important point of that process.

Now, we have to make a distinction, however, and not treat all evangelicals as the same thing. Not all evangelicals are in favor of Israel. Not all evangelicals are in favor of Bolsonaro, for that matter. Not all evangelicals love the idea of Trump interfering with Brazilian elections. I would say that nowadays, because of religious values or because of even conservative worldviews, evangelicals vote for Bolsonaro, be it Flávio Bolsonaro the son or Jair Bolsonaro the father, at a 70–30 ratio. So, out of the around 60 million evangelicals that we have in Brazil, some 40 million consistently vote for Bolsonaro.

Some people blame the leaders. Some people say it’s just about these leaders of megachurches in São Paulo, in Rio, and in other urban areas. They are the ones who call the shots, and if we are able to defeat these people, then we’re going to be able to change the minds of the followers. That’s fundamentally wrong.

Of course, leaders have a very big influence on how followers vote. Even when they don’t talk about it explicitly, we have a lot of people who go to the services and who listen to the pastors and the leaders, and they fundamentally agree with that. It’s not about an imposition of vote or political positions; it’s just agreement. This is important because it also explains that maybe the role of leaders is limited, more limited than we think.

There’s an American scholar called Amy Erica Smith from the University of Iowa, and she wrote a book about evangelicals in Brazil. She basically says it’s important to consider the role of evangelical leaders, those who own churches, those who replicate churches, even internationally, but we cannot pretend that voters are not agents of their own decisions. Meaning that evangelical Christians might vote for Bolsonaro not because their leader has told them so, but because they believe in what they’re listening to. They believe in the promises. That’s an important thing. And, of course, what evangelicalism has done to countries like Brazil is not that it has transformed voters into more conservative voters. It’s different. Evangelicalism, because it’s a more outspoken faith, as opposed to Catholicism, has allowed these conservative ideas to flourish and to become more open.

It’s not about changing people’s minds. Brazilians, as much as Turks, as much as Argentinians, as much as whoever else you want to name, most people are conservative in one way or another. Religion is there to enable these conservative ideas to become policy. That’s where we are right now in Brazil.

Bolsonarism Began by Emulating Trump

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

This brings us to Trumpism. Donald Trump became an explicit issue in the first-round campaign, with Lula accusing the US president of seeking to influence the election in Bolsonaro’s favor, while Flávio Bolsonaro openly advocated a closer relationship with Trump. How should we understand Trumpism’s influence on contemporary Bolsonarism after the first-round result: as imitation, ideological diffusion, strategic borrowing, or participation in a genuinely transnational populist network?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I think it’s a transnational thing. It starts out with emulation or imitation. In the beginning, when Bolsonaro decided to run for president back in 2016, that was precisely the time Trump was about to get elected in the United States. And the moment Trump got elected, in November 2016, Bolsonaro started calling himself the Brazilian Trump, or Trump of the tropics. That’s another version of the story.

Of course, the beginning was mostly about emulating Trump’s playbook, because we have to concede something to Trump: his playbook was super successful. It was successful because it tapped into identity, it tapped into people’s fears, it tapped into people’s hate—hate for whatever they hate, either racial hatred or religious bigotry, it doesn’t matter. Trump was able to bring all of these things together into one movement, which was not cohesive, it was not super tight, but it was a loose movement that was able to get him elected in 2016. Bolsonaro attempted the very same things, and it worked. Emulation has paid off.

But emulation is not the whole story, because ever since Bolsonaro got elected, or even slightly before that, we could already notice some degree of circulation of ideas among these movements. Brazil and the United States have the two biggest and most important far-right movements in the hemisphere. We’re talking about the two biggest countries anyway.

The American and Brazilian Far Right Borrow from Each Other

It would be naive to say that everything that the Brazilian far right does is just a copy of what the United States did. If you look at the evolution of the two movements side by side, you’re going to see that there’s a lot of interaction between them. There were times when the Trump movement, or the MAGA movement, also borrowed from some of the strategies played out by Bolsonaro in Brazil. For example, the whole “dictatorship of the courts” argument is an old argument in US politics, but it started out with Brazil and then trickled up to the United States. It’s an interesting thing, because if you analyze these two movements closely, you’re going to see a lot of interaction. At this point, we can safely affirm that it’s a truly transnational movement with a lot of back and forth.

These movements talk to each other, they translate each other’s talking points, they resort to each other’s images at times. It wasn’t rare to see Trump, when outside of power in 2022 and 2023, using some images of Brazil and saying, this is what’s going to happen to the United States if Biden stays in power, or something like that. So, in many ways, there is a degree of interaction.

The interesting thing at this point is that it’s not just about the US and Brazil, because a lot of these things have also been incorporated into some other movements around the hemisphere, Argentina, Colombia, etc. Bernardo de la Espriella, Colombia’s new president, has a good relationship with Trump, but also with the Bolsonaro family. They show up at CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) together at times. Eduardo Verástegui of Mexico, who is probably the least likely to win, because Mexico is a very much consolidated political system, and now it’s settled on the left. But he’s friends with Flávio Bolsonaro and Eduardo Bolsonaro, who’s Bolsonaro’s son as well. Eduardo Bolsonaro is a very young former congressman who lost his office because he had spent too much time in the United States, and he still lives in the United States, where he has kept lobbying in favor of the liberation of his father from prison ever since last year, and he’s got the ears of a lot of people in the White House as of now.

It’s interesting to see how these things are articulated and how these things circulate. I’m currently working on this, so that’s probably going to be my next paper or something—on the transnational routes of the Latin American far right. So, it’s not just about the mechanism; it’s also about the origin of these movements and the conditions that have enabled these movements to be considerably successful, if you look at them right now, in power in so many countries of Latin America.

The Workers’ Party Has No Alternative to Lula

Brazil, Lula de Silva.
People shout slogans during an International Workers’ Day demonstration in São Paulo, Brazil, on May 1, 2026. Photo: Dreamstime.

Finally, what does the October 4 first-round result tell us about the evolution of populism in Brazil? With Flávio Bolsonaro leading without Jair on the ballot and Lulism showing signs of weaker electoral dominance, are we moving from charismatic leadership toward more institutionalized populist identities—and what could this mean for Brazilian democracy?

Assoc. Prof. Guilherme Casarões: I don’t think so, and let me explain. Bolsonarism is still very much a populist movement. Of course, the leader now is the son, not the father, but as we’ve mentioned a few times before, the movement still gravitates very much around the image of Jair Bolsonaro. Of course, there might be an evolution, there might be successors outside of the family, and there might be some changes along the way. But the way things are as of right now, it’s a very personalistic and a populist movement in this regard, too.

Meanwhile, the left has a problem in Brazil. Lula might have been a populist very early on. He might have run so many elections, some unsuccessfully, on a populist platform. But Lula can no longer be considered a populist. Because nowadays, when people look at him, what they see is not an agent of transformation, an agent of change. What they see today when they look at Lula is a backward politician, somebody who acts on behalf of a corrupt system, of an outdated model of politics.

So, in many ways, we can draw a comparison between what happened in the United States under Biden and what happened in Brazil under Lula. This is not to say that Lula’s going to lose the second round of elections. Maybe he will, and most likely he will, but I’m not even taking that into account. What I’m trying to say is that what Lula represents today, regardless of whether he gets elected or not, is the establishment. People look at him and they see a failed model right there.

Of course, I understand that some people can be, as we say in Portuguese, chameleons. Some people can just change identities over time; some people can just build new identities from scratch. But Lula has been pretty much the same person ever since the beginning. Now, at 80, people look at him, and they can’t see any expectation of transformation.

Because of that, one of the biggest mistakes that we’ve had, both in the United States and in Brazil—that’s also true for Argentina and perhaps some other countries—is that these countries’ elites on the left, who used to be populist back in the day, or who could have become populist at some point, have failed to construct alternatives. 

The Workers’ Party has no alternative to Lula. This is why he’s running for the fourth term. Very worn down, tired, old, but he’s still the only option. We don’t even have, in Brazil, a Kamala Harris option, which would be, maybe, Fernando Haddad, who’s the former finance minister of Brazil, who already ran in 2018 and lost to Bolsonaro’s father.

Brazil Missed the Chance for a Positive Left-Wing Populism

So, what we have today is a left, a progressive movement in Brazil, that has become, to speak directly to your question, so deeply institutionalized that it cannot really detach itself from the bad things people see in the system itself. As much as we see with the Democratic Socialists of America movement and Abdul El-Sayed and Zohran Mamdani, all these guys—AOC, of course, was the first one to come up with that, and Bernie Sanders, of course, enabling the others—this is something that Brazil needs.

We don’t have a two-party system, so this is probably going to happen as a specific partisan movement in Brazil. But the feeling that I have is that, unfortunately, we have missed the opportunity to consider a positive left-wing populism emerging to counter the right-wing populism that we have so dominant in the country right now.

Dr. Semir Dzebo.

Dr. Dzebo: Dayton Accomplished Peace in Bosnia, but It Has Not Been Great at Democracy

In this interview with ECPS, Dr. Semir Dzebo, Postdoctoral Researcher at the Centre for Socio-Legal Studies at the University of Oxford, examines Bosnia and Herzegovina’s October 4 elections through the lenses of populism, nationalism, secessionism, and ethnic politics. He argues that Bosnia remains marked by “stable instability”: Dayton secured peace but has struggled to function as a democratic constitution. Dr. Dzebo discusses “populist secessionism,” the erosion of anti-elite appeals under long incumbency, competing constructions of “the people,” Croat and Bosniak representation, foreign influence, disinformation, and the limits of territorial revisionism. Rather than expecting dissolution or a sweeping constitutional settlement, he points toward incremental reform, EU integration, stronger state capacity, desegregated schooling, cross-ethnic electoral incentives, and improved economic conditions.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Bosnia and Herzegovina approaches its October 4 elections amid renewed strain on the political architecture established by the Dayton Peace Agreement. More than three decades after the end of the 1992–95 war, questions of statehood, entity autonomy, ethnic representation, foreign influence, and the legitimacy of shared institutions remain deeply intertwined. Political competition continues to be structured less by a conventional left–right divide than by competing understandings of sovereignty, citizenship, collective rights, and of who constitutes the legitimate political community. Against this fragmented backdrop, the elections are not simply about who will govern Bosnia and Herzegovina, but about the character and durability of the post-Dayton state itself.

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Semir Dzebo, Postdoctoral Researcher at the Centre for Socio-Legal Studies at the University of Oxford, examines these tensions through the lenses of populism, nationalism, secessionism, and ethnic politics. He argues that electoral competition in Bosnia carries unusually high constitutional stakes because “whatever coalition gets formed after the October 4th elections is, in a way, a choice about the state itself.” In this sense, the election resembles “a de facto referendum” on the country’s future political architecture.

A central theme of the conversation is what Dr. Dzebo conceptualizes as “populist secessionism.” Whereas ordinary nationalism operates along a horizontal axis of competition between national communities, populist secessionism introduces a vertical, moral division between an allegedly authentic people and corrupt or illegitimate elites. In this framework, political disagreement becomes morally charged: as Dr. Dzebo puts it, disputes that might otherwise be negotiated can acquire “this moral dimension that turns them into treason,” making compromise appear as capitulation.

The interview also explores the limits of this strategy. Dr. Dzebo’s research suggests that support for secession in Republika Srpska is driven less by populist attitudes than by ethnonational identification, ingroup bias, deteriorating intergroup relations, and economic grievance. Long incumbency, moreover, can erode the credibility of anti-elitism: voters predisposed against elites may increasingly view Milorad Dodik himself as part of the elite.

The broader diagnosis culminates in Dr. Dzebo’s assessment of Dayton itself. Bosnia, he argues, lives in a condition of “stable instability.” Dayton “has really accomplished the first task” of securing peace, but “has not really been great at the second task” of functioning as a democratic constitution. Yet he rejects both expectations of imminent dissolution and hopes for a sweeping constitutional reset, instead pointing toward incremental reform, EU integration, implementation of Strasbourg judgments, stronger state capacity, desegregated schooling, cross-ethnic electoral incentives, and improved economic conditions as the more plausible path toward a more cohesive democratic order.

Here is our interview with Dr. Semir Dzebo, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Bosnia’s Elections Are De Facto Referendums on the State

Photo: Dreamstime.

Dr. Dzebo, welcome! Bosnia and Herzegovina enters the October 4 elections with its post-Dayton political order under considerable pressure, and the central political divisions concern not simply left and right but competing understandings of statehood, sovereignty, entity autonomy, citizenship, and ethnic representation. Looking at the campaign as a whole, are these elections fundamentally about who governs Bosnia and Herzegovina—or about what kind of political community and state Bosnia and Herzegovina should be?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Before I start responding, thank you very much for the invitation to be part of the series. With regard to your question, it’s very hard to separate those two things, especially in Bosnia. Whatever coalition gets formed after the October 4th elections is, in a way, a choice about the state itself. It’s a little bit like a de facto referendum on what kind of coalition architecture we’re going to have after the elections.

There’s the option of continuing the Troika model, then potentially the return of SDR, or strengthening the entity-focused axis of SNSD and HDZ. And there’s maybe a larger question looming there about the pardon of Milorad Dodik, depending on what kind of coalition is formed.

I think it’s a little bit unusual because, in most other countries, elections are just about elections and who’s going to govern, without necessarily thinking these elections are going to change the nature of the state itself. But in Bosnia, it’s always a little bit intertwined when it comes to those things.

Certainly, what I really liked in your introduction about the elections was that you said it’s really less about issues that are considered in other countries’ elections, where it’s liberal versus conservative, it’s left versus right. There’s very little sort of program being announced and promoted by parties. Some of the people who have done research on these elections have found that not even 10% of social media content by parties has been about anything but a program.

It’s more about these traditional ethno-national tensions, and that’s why the tension is on top of everything. It’s not necessarily what ordinary voters care about, but, in a way, it’s omnipresent, so they’re almost forced to think about those things.

Then we recently had the death of Ratko Mladić, the convicted war criminal, which was almost a gift for those wishing to stoke the flames of nationalism again, and it forced itself into these elections again as something to really be considered.

Populist Secessionism Turns Disagreement into Treason

Your recent work introduces the concept of “populist secessionism” to describe the fusion of anti-elite populism with ethnonational claims to territorial separation. In Republika Srpska, how should we distinguish ordinary Serb nationalism from specifically populist secessionism? What changes when the claim that Republika Srpska must defend its national autonomy is reframed as a struggle of a morally authentic “people” against corrupt domestic elites, Sarajevo institutions, and international authorities?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: I followed the line of thinking of people who have done earlier work on the distinctions between nationalism and populism and the fusion of those two, like Rogers Brubaker, and then my PhD advisor at Central European University, Erin Kristin Jenne, who writes about ethno-populism. They tried to differentiate them as having two different axes.

I would say that ordinary Serb nationalism would be a horizontal axis, where claims of rights and autonomy of the Serb nation relative to other nations are made in this comparative sense, and the goals of that nationalism can be pursued through institutions. It is acceptable, in that view, that there will be those who disagree on the best course of action and the best way to pursue the goals of Serb nationalism within Serb people.

But populist secessionism has a vertical or moral axis, where the nation has a singular will. The leader is the one who embodies it, and everyone who presents an obstacle is part of the corrupt elite. In my paper, I thoroughly analyzed the discourse of Milorad Dodik. I find that he has three types of elites that he targets.

The first one is the domestic opposition, the Serb political parties within Republika Srpska that are his opposition, the ones that run for votes, that he used to run for votes against; now he’s technically not a part of these elections. Then you have the Bosniak elite in Sarajevo, whom he also targets within the country. Then there’s also the element of what he presents as a neo-colonial international community that he sees as standing in the way of the will of the people and imposing these external decisions without, according to him, any legitimacy to do so.

So, what happens is that some of these disagreements that could happen and could be debated get this moral dimension that turns them into treason. It almost prohibits any sort of compromise, because it sees it as capitulation to the interests of those who wish to harm the Serb national project in Bosnia.

Dodik Uses Populism to Redirect Discontent

Milorad Dodik.
Milorad Dodik greets supporters in Pale, Bosnia and Herzegovina, following a meeting and referendum on Republika Srpska’s National Day, September 25, 2016. Photo: Vladimir Stanisic / Dreamstime.

One of the most intriguing findings of your research is that Milorad Dodik’s populist-secessionist discourse appears to function more effectively as an elite political strategy than as a direct reflection of mass attitudes: stronger anti-elitism was actually associated with lower support for both secession and Dodik’s party, while ethnic identification, ingroup bias, and economic grievances were stronger predictors. Does this suggest that analysts have overestimated the popular foundations of secessionism in Republika Srpska? And if so, why does the rhetoric remain politically so persistent?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Partly, it really does. There’s definitely support for secession in Republika Srpska. It’s real support, and it tends to vary a great deal. But in a survey that I’ve done, I found that it has almost nothing to do with populist attitudes. In fact, those who really hold populist attitudes, and we see them as a combination of anti-elitism, pro-people, and a Manichaean element, are actually the ones who have lower support for both Dodik’s party and secession.

Those who support secession are actually motivated by other, more traditional motivations, like just a sense of distinct ethnonational identity, just a sense that intergroup relations in the country are already poor, that the country is really not a unified whole.

But again, the reason why this populist secessionism exists, and the reason why Dodik uses it, is because it really enables him to have a tool and a discursive arsenal to attack domestic opposition, the Bosniak elite, and the international presence in the country. It really helps him to try to mobilize against all of these elites in pursuit of goals, because he can’t mobilize the anti-elite discourse.

What it shows is that, among people living in Republika Srpska, those who are predisposed to dislike elites are the ones who think of elites in Banja Luka; those are the ones they directly live under. So those who are dissatisfied with elites tend to think of Dodik as elite, while Dodik essentially wants them to think of the Bosniaks in Sarajevo or the international presence in the Office of the High Representative as the elite.

It’s a discursive move to try to shift attention from his long-standing incumbency and the things that people might be dissatisfied with, and to get the people’s attention onto other targets where he can fare more favorably in competition with.

Anti-Elite Voters Increasingly See Dodik as the Elite

That finding also creates an apparent paradox: populists normally mobilize against entrenched elites, yet SNSD has exercised power for many years while continuing to present itself as a resistance movement against Sarajevo, international bureaucrats, and external interference. Does prolonged incumbency eventually exhaust the credibility of populist anti-elitism? Or can ethnonationalism compensate for that contradiction by continually redefining the incumbent elite as the defender of the community against more distant and allegedly more threatening elites?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Exactly. At the mass level, it really shows that long incumbency is going to exhaust the appeal of anti-elitism. As I said in response to the previous question, those who are predisposed to have anti-elite attitudes are less likely to vote for Dodik or his party because they think of him as the elite. So, if they have an anti-elite predisposition, they’re going to think negatively of him and his party.

This also shows, and is in line with other work, that it’s a bit of a methodological question for all of us working on populism whether standard attitude scales work for predicting support for populists once they are in power for a long time. Sebastian Jungkunz and his colleagues had a paper on this, where it shows that these scales predict support really well when populists are in opposition, but once they hold on to power for a long time, the predictive power of populist attitude scales for support for populists actually vanishes.

This is something that the field still needs to try to figure out better: How do we measure this once populists are in power for a bit longer? What you also see in this campaign for these elections is that those who are really appealing to anti-elitism in the sense of intra-ethnic competition are the opposition in Republika Srpska. They’re saying, we need justice back. We’ve seen them accuse Milorad Dodik of being a false patriot who’s just willing to sell national interests for personal gain, or just asking him to let the reins of power go so the people can finally live.

So, the opposition is really trying to mobilize this anti-elitism against Dodik and his party. What he tries to do is, like you said, shift this anti-elitism from intra-ethnic competition towards the High Representative, towards the Bosniak politicians, and present themselves, the SNSD, as really the savior, the defender of the interests of Republika Srpska.

Weakening SNSD Would Not Weaken Serb Nationalism

How important is it to separate dissatisfaction with SNSD and Dodik from attitudes toward Serb national autonomy itself? Much of the opposition in Republika Srpska challenges corruption, patronage, and personalized rule but remains strongly committed to Serb national interests. If SNSD were significantly weakened in these elections, would that represent a decline of ethnonational politics—or merely a change in who is considered the most credible representative of the Serb national project?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: I would say it’s the latter. If you look at recent examples, such as the death of Ratko Mladic, opposition politicians were present at memorial services, showing that they remain aligned with these ideas and the national project. Some opposition members also went to Belgrade for the commemoration and praised Ratko Mladic and everything that he has done.

So, while they are willing to challenge Dodik on issues such as corruption, the rule of law, and the use of his position for personal gain, they are not going to make a major shift in how they view the position of Republika Srpska or the project of Republika Srpska vis-à-vis the state of Bosnia and Herzegovina.

If SNSD is significantly weakened, as you say, it would be more a statement about the electorate no longer trusting Dodik with the national project and wanting to select someone else because of fears or dissatisfaction that he is willing to compromise or sell out vital parts of this national project for personal gain. You can sometimes see this in decisions regarding the non-recognition of the decisions of the Office of the High Representative, which were later reversed in exchange for the lifting of personal sanctions imposed by the US on Dodik.

That is what the opposition is trying to do: attack him on this basis. If the result is as such, it can certainly signal that people no longer trust him with the national project.

Bosnia’s Ethno-Populist Axes Are Almost Fused

Bosnia and Herzegovina contains several rival constructions of “the people”: the Serb people of Republika Srpska, a historically vulnerable Bosniak community closely associated with the defense of the Bosnian state, the Croat constituent people demanding “legitimate representation,” and a civic conception centered on citizens irrespective of ethnicity. Does this plurality make Bosnia a particularly distinctive case of populism, because political actors compete not only over who represents “the people” but over who the legitimate people actually are? 

Dr. Semir Dzebo: It’s a valuable case for all the work on ethno-populism, in particular, because there is no singular people. In the Constitution, it’s defined as three constituent peoples, and then we have others. As a result, the vertical and horizontal axes that I talked about earlier are almost fused and confused everywhere.

One good example of this is the concern that has existed for years within the Croat community over the issue of legitimate representation: whether the way elections are set up allows Bosniaks, because of their sheer larger numbers, to choose the Croat representative to the presidency, and whether this is what they call legitimate representation.

You see the Bosniak member, Bakir Izetbegović, who is the candidate for presidency, borrowing this a little bit and saying that if the member of Troika is elected to be part of the presidency, that will almost be like token Muslim representation, but that wouldn’t be legitimate.

Then, within the elections for the Croat member of the presidency, the opposition, instead of using anti-elitism, is saying, “Hey, you have the same people who have been running the country for a very long time, and we need change.”

So, it’s quite a distinctive case when it comes to who the people are. It’s really valuable for those of us who study ethno-populism to devote attention to the unique dynamics that we have in Bosnia.

Mladić’s Death Mobilized Pride, Grievance, Fear, and Anger

Ratko Mladić.
Ratko Mladić is depicted on a Serbian flag during a political rally in Belgrade, Serbia, on May 29, 2011. Mladić is a former Bosnian Serb military leader. Photo: Dreamstime.

The funeral and commemorative ceremonies for Ratko Mladić appear to have reactivated sharply divergent memories of the 1992–95 war. What emotions and forms of political mobilization did they generate among Serbs, Bosniaks, and Croats? From a populism perspective, did political actors use these ceremonies to reinforce boundaries between “our people” and rival communities or elites, revive narratives of victimhood and betrayal, and frame contemporary conflicts as continuations of unresolved wartime struggles?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Reactions were obviously different. Among Serbs in Republika Srpska, the official reaction, as well as the reaction by most of the opposition, was, in a way, one of pride, but also of mourning and grievance. There were tribute gatherings across the cities and across the entity, including in Srebrenica itself. Certain politicians were trying to present his imprisonment as suffering endured by the entirety of the Serb people. The resulting events related to it in Serbia were intended to send the message that Serbia and Republika Srpska are as one.

Obviously, for Bosniaks, the emotions were quite different. They were ones of humiliation, fear, and anger. Some of the events, like at the football game, when the fans of Crvena zvezda at the Belgrade Stadium had a banner saying, “Pravac Potočari (Straight to Potočari),” which is an infamous saying by Ratko Mladić, were like a clear invocation of genocide. So, there has also been a lot of mobilization on the part of ordinary people trying to report these to the relevant authorities in order to deal with the rise of genocide-denial sentiment through potentially legal channels.

Bosniak Outbidding Takes the Form of Defending the State

The Bosniak political field is itself fragmented between national-conservative, social-democratic, liberal, and civic currents. Can Bosniak political fragmentation weaken ethnonational polarization by preventing one actor from monopolizing national representation, or does electoral competition instead create incentives for rival parties to demonstrate that they are the more credible defenders of Bosnia, Bosniak security, and the integrity of the state?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Yes, there’s a good side to this fragmentation, and that is democratic accountability. Because there are multiple legitimate options, there’s a way for the electorate to hold those in power accountable and vote them out once they’re not happy with their performance. But outbidding still happens. In particular, it depends on the level of perceived danger to the state and to the existence of Bosniaks within it.

So, let’s say Bakir Izetbegović has been saying that we might not have a country if, again, Troika and Denis Bećirović are elected to power, and that governing with SNSD and HDZ BiH is really a humiliation. Again, it’s like this populist logic: you cannot really compromise on this; otherwise, you’re selling out the people.

I think everything that’s happened with Dodik also gave Troika an opportunity to try to act as defenders of the nation and maybe make some moves that would make them appear tougher when it comes to matters of security and inter-ethnic relations.

But there is also restraint. For example, I’ve read some analysis of the elections saying that it’s actually been quite subdued, that it’s been unusually quiet when it comes to the elections for the Bosniak presidency. I think Bećirović has said that he doesn’t want to campaign on quarrelsome politics. He said he wants to focus on jobs and crime.

So, one thing that’s different, obviously, is that when it comes to Bosniak outbidding, it takes the form of trying to defend the state. But when it comes to outbidding in the case of Republika Srpska, it goes into the realm of separatism.

The Croat Representation Grievance Is Very Real

A comparable tension exists around Croat demands for “legitimate representation.” Supporters see collective representation as necessary to prevent a numerically larger community from determining who represents Croats, while critics fear that further institutionalizing such principles would deepen ethnic territorialization. Is this ultimately a conflict between two democratic logics—individual political equality and collective national representation—and has the Dayton framework reached the limits of its ability to reconcile them?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: It is really a conflict between two democratic logics. From the standpoint of the Croats in Bosnia, their idea is that the representative of the people in the presidency should be chosen by them. If it’s the Croat representative, it should be chosen only by Croats. Obviously, the Dayton Agreement has different prescriptions, and it’s written into the Constitution that what happens is one person, one vote. So, everyone living in the Federation of Bosnia and Herzegovina has the right to choose whom they want to vote for.

The ruling in the case of Sejdić-Finci has pushed more towards this idea of individual equality, where they’re more sympathetic towards the first option, while the Constitutional Court has a different idea of what the decision should be. The grievance in the case of the Croat community is very real because Željko Komšić won the seat four times, each time with a substantial amount of non-Croat support. The discourse on it is still very much the same.

Bosnia Is More Ethno-Populist than Religiously Populist

Religion in Bosnia is often intertwined with national identity rather than operating as a wholly independent ideological cleavage: Islam with Bosniak identity, Serbian Orthodoxy with Serb identity, and Catholicism with Croat identity. Would you therefore characterize Bosnia as a case of religious populism, or is it more accurate to speak of ethnonational populism in which religious institutions, symbols, sacred geography, and memories of collective suffering provide legitimacy and emotional reinforcement to political projects whose primary logic remains national?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: I think it’s the latter. It’s more about ethno-national populism. I don’t think there’s much there in terms of sacred reinforcement along religious lines. Because of the nature of how ethnicity works in Bosnia in terms of identity, and because it’s a bit fused with religion, it works as this boundary marker of where one belongs or is supposed to belong. But I don’t see much religious doctrine infused into the way populism or ethno-populism works.

Economic Support Is Far More Popular than Territorial Revision

US Dollar
Photo: Mar Tas / Dreamstime.

Your work on kin-state politics in Serbia finds that nationalist appeals can increase support for cultural and economic assistance to co-ethnics abroad, while public resistance to more aggressive territorial revision remains considerably more robust. What does this tell us about Serbia’s relationship with Republika Srpska? Should we distinguish carefully between popular support in Serbia for protecting or assisting Bosnian Serbs and actual public willingness to endorse secession, territorial revision, or destabilizing intervention?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: What it tells us is that, when it comes to matters of irredentism, there are two very different sides to it. One is assistance in terms of economic and cultural support, and what I found is that people are much more willing to support those in the first place. They can also be convinced to either increase or decrease their support through rather minimal framing.

If you frame it as support being costly—that those are funds we could invest here at home in Serbia—then they will decrease their support. If you convince them that there is this duty to support their ethnic brethren, their ethnic kin in Bosnia, then you can convince them to increase their support.

But when you start talking about changing borders, which would likely result in conflict, people will, as a baseline, be less likely to support that. You are also less likely to convince them to either increase or decrease their support, no matter how you try to frame it.

It means that there is really a limit to how much you can engage in this irredentism, and that as long as it’s economic or cultural, you can work with that, you can increase it if you wish to, and you can try to mobilize support for it. But changing borders is really just not something that people will change their minds about, and it does not seem to be something that is as popular as economic and cultural support.

Kin-State Engagement Must Be Transparent and Neutral

More broadly, how should we distinguish legitimate kin-state engagement from political interference in Bosnia’s elections? Serbia and Croatia have obvious constitutional, ethnic, and historical connections to Bosnian Serbs and Croats, while Russia, Turkey, Hungary, the European Union, and the United States possess very different political, strategic, religious, and economic interests. At what point does diplomatic, cultural, religious, financial, or media engagement cease to be ordinary external influence and begin to distort domestic democratic competition?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: What needs to happen, not just in the case of Bosnia, but also anywhere where there is this ethnic kin element of states having ethnic kin abroad, is that, according to the recommendations of the 2001 Venice Commission report on kin-states and the OSCE prescriptions, any engagement of states with their ethnic kin abroad should, first of all, be transparent in terms of the fact that it is occurring.

It should, in the best-case scenario, be channeled through the institutions of the host state, but if that’s not the case, at least the host state institutions should be made well aware of it. Then, it should not be used for the purposes of mobilizing voters, which we often find to be the case, but it should really be aimed at communities at large.

It shouldn’t be timed to the electoral calendar, but should really be sustained long-term support and engagement. And lastly, it should be neutral to the constitutional order of what we call the host state, where the ethnic kin lives.

If these conditions are not satisfied, then you tend to have friction, which can also result in a worsening of the situation of the co-ethnics that live within the host state.

International Inconsistency Feeds Secessionist Opportunities

Foreign influence is frequently narrated through the same populist vocabulary as domestic conflict: external actors can be represented either as protectors of a threatened community or as illegitimate elites overriding popular sovereignty. In Republika Srpska in particular, opposition to the Office of the High Representative and international intervention has become integral to political mobilization. Does international involvement unintentionally strengthen populist secessionism by allowing domestic elites to present constitutional constraints as foreign domination?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: I talked about it quite a bit in the first part of our interview. It really gives a convenient target for Dodik. For example, one of the things related to the elections now is that these are going to be the first elections with the introduction of new election technology and machines. What is supposed to be a technical safeguard against fraud, Dodik is calling the will of unelected foreigners who are trying to impose this technology for the purposes of potentially defrauding the election.

It’s a very convenient target, and throughout his career, he has always targeted the Office of the High Representative, the previous US administration’s ambassador, the US Embassy, and the other European embassies. But I don’t think that this international involvement really causes secessionism. There are all of these other domestic motivations that translate into support for secession. Even if international involvement feeds or gives potential targets for anti-elitism, we also see from this that anti-elitism doesn’t really translate into support for secession.

What, in the case of Bosnia, feeds secession is the opening of potential opportunities to advance secessionist causes because of the inconsistency of the international actors in Bosnia. We have the former High Representative announcing his resignation, and then there’s a bit of disagreement over who the new High Representative is going to be. There might be changing opinions on the mandate of the High Representative in Washington, D.C., as opposed to the opinions in the EU.

So, the inconsistency, the disagreement within the international community, is providing these openings for those who might favor secession in Republika Srpska to try to advance it a bit more, but not involvement per se.

Bosnia Is Highly Vulnerable to Disinformation

Illustration: Shutterstock / Skorzewiak.

Information politics seems especially important in this election. ODIHR is explicitly monitoring social-media campaigning as well as foreign and domestic misinformation, disinformation, and interference. In a society where media spaces are already fragmented along political, territorial, and ethnonational lines, how vulnerable is Bosnia and Herzegovina to coordinated information campaigns? And is their principal danger that they persuade citizens of entirely new ideas, or that they intensify pre-existing fears, historical grievances, and perceptions of ethnic threat?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Structurally, when it comes to disinformation, Bosnia is very vulnerable. The media space is very fragmented, and there is also a wide reach of media from Serbia and Croatia. A lot of people also get their information from Facebook. There’s been great work done by people at organizations like Istinomjer and Raskrinkavanje, who have documented bot networks and Facebook pages that have been used to smear the opposition and politicians, as well as fabricated posts and a lot of AI-generated content.

Polarization is omnipresent, with ethnic polarization also omnipresent in the coverage of the news, and I don’t think the current fines for any misuse of media are really meaningful. I also don’t think that there’s any danger that it’s going to convert people who weren’t nationalists into nationalists, but there is a danger that it’s just going to amplify nationalist sentiment among those who were already predisposed to it.

One particular danger that I talked about just a while ago is the denial of results. Dodik has already planted the seeds with his comments on the new technology—that the international community is doing it so they could defraud SNSD and him, and that it’s a Western tool of fraud, as he calls it. The danger is that, through the media that is co-opted by SNSD, there’s going to be a rejection of the results, or some of it happening even in advance, whatever the results turn out to be.

The Challenge Is Separating Populism from Antagonism

You have also worked on computational approaches to identifying populist discourse, including research suggesting that large language models can detect context-sensitive people-versus-elite framing with accuracy approaching expert human coding. Could such tools help us map the 2026 Bosnian campaign across Bosnian, Serbian, and Croatian language environments—identifying when ordinary nationalism becomes populist, when religious or historical symbolism is mobilized, and how narratives travel between domestic political actors and external information ecosystems? What methodological cautions would be necessary in such a deeply context-dependent political setting?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: It’s a good question. Having worked in this area, there’s promise there, but I would still say that, for a place as complicated as Bosnia, especially when it comes to distinguishing all of the things that you said from one another, I don’t think we are that close to doing all of it.

But some of the work that I’ve done with my colleagues in Team Populism has really managed to use large language models to replicate the work of human coders when it comes to recognizing populism. As part of all of the testing that we have done, some of it included speeches from Montenegro in Montenegrin, and the results there were really encouraging. Obviously, that would also work in the case of Bosnian, Croatian, and Serbian texts.

One of the cautions that I had from similar work on these computational approaches is that it’s sometimes hard to separate populism from just antagonism. The hostility between ethnic groups is everywhere, but not all of it has these elements of populism, like people-centrism, anti-elitism, and Manicheanism. So that would be my primary concern. It’s also about some of the contextual elements—the extent to which those would work.

One other thing that we should try doing is looking at how a lot of the campaign has moved on to digital things like songs, video, and symbols. So, for scholars of populism who work on those things, that would be another interesting thing to look at.

Bosnia Lives in Stable Instability

And finally, Dr. Dzebo, thirty-one years after Dayton, is Bosnia and Herzegovina approaching a point at which the original peace-making consensus can no longer provide a sustainable democratic equilibrium? Dayton successfully institutionalized safeguards against domination, but it also entrenched ethnicity as a central principle of political representation. Looking beyond October 4, do you see a plausible path toward a renewed constitutional settlement that preserves collective security while expanding civic equality and cross-ethnic political competition—or is the more likely trajectory a continued fragmentation in which competing national communities increasingly interpret sovereignty, democracy, and even the legitimacy of the state itself in incompatible ways?

Dr. Semir Dzebo: Hard question. I’ve heard someone once say that the best compromise is the one that leaves everybody unhappy, or at least a peace settlement. In a way, that’s the case in Bosnia, in that it’s a peace settlement that is also supposed to work as a democratic constitution. It has really accomplished the first task. It has not really been great at the second task.

We have this stable instability in Bosnia. There’s no active armed conflict, but there’s always, underneath the surface, some inter-ethnic tension. And also, the Dayton Agreement, the way it was framed, has created this self-reinforcing loop. The institutions, because they’re set up in a way that makes ethnicity the primary political identity, strengthen all these things that I found to also be feeding into secessionism in Republika Srpska, like in-group bias, which I found to be the strongest predictor of support for secession.

I don’t think we’re going to have, anytime soon, some grand settlement, but we’re also not going to have, at least in my opinion, dissolution. The most plausible path is one of incremental moves towards EU accession. Implementing the Strasbourg judgments would be a plausible path forward. Trying to strengthen state capacity through the reform agenda would be a plausible path forward.

In the slightly longer term, the priority should also be ending segregated schooling, because that would produce very positive societal benefits, as well as trying to add some electoral incentives that would emphasize winning votes across communities. Those incremental steps would have a very positive effect on the state of politics in the country.

One thing that I found in my paper on secessionism and populism is economic grievance. So I said in-group bias was the strongest predictor. Economic grievance was the second strongest driver of secessionist sentiment. And this really gives reason for some cautious optimism, because material conditions can change, in a way, more easily than all of the prescriptions of Dayton and the Constitution.

Trying to address the fact that more than half of young people are interested in leaving the country is really a pressing problem, and trying to improve economic conditions should be the priority of both domestic politicians and the international community. That has the potential to have very positive knock-on effects for societal cohesion and interethnic dynamics.

Dr. Mara Nogueira.

Dr. Nogueira: Trump’s Influence Is Shaping Brazil’s Election, Making It a Very Important and Dangerous One

In this ECPS interview, Dr. Mara Nogueira examines Brazil’s 2026 presidential election through the intertwined dynamics of US influence, Bolsonarism, Lulism, religion, labor, and political identity. She argues that the role of the United States—and particularly the alignment between Donald Trump and the Bolsonaro family—has become a consequential new element in the contest, describing the election as “a very important and dangerous one.” Dr. Nogueira also reflects on the durability of Bolsonarism, the increasingly defensive character of Lulism, the political weight of evangelical networks, and the effects of precarious work, entrepreneurialism, and social media. More broadly, she situates Brazil within a transnational landscape of authoritarian and revanchist populism while stressing the importance of class, region, religion, and changing expectations of the state.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As Brazil approaches the October 4, 2026 presidential election, the contest is unfolding amid persistent polarization, a resilient yet more defensive Lulism, the continued strength of Bolsonarism beyond Jair Bolsonaro himself, and increasingly salient cleavages around religion, public security, welfare, and regional inequality. These dynamics are particularly significant in light of the research of Dr. Mara Nogueira, Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London, whose work examines the intersections of populism, urban politics, labor, inequality, informality, and political belonging in Brazil, with particular attention to revanchist populism, antipetismo, and the social and spatial foundations of Bolsonarism. 

In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Nogueira emphasizes that Brazil’s 2026 election cannot be understood exclusively through domestic political cleavages. Alongside the enduring influence of anti-PT sentiment, regional divisions, gender, class, and religion, she identifies the role of the United States—and particularly the Trump administration—as a new and consequential element in the electoral landscape. “One thing that you didn’t mention in your question and that I think is worth pointing out is the influence of the US in this election,” she stresses, adding pointedly: “They’re not hiding it.”

For Dr. Nogueira, this external dimension became especially visible when President Donald Trump imposed tariffs on Brazil, measures that she interprets as carrying “a very high political element.” She also points to broader American strategic interests in Brazil and argues that political influence should be understood alongside economic considerations, including US interest in Brazilian mineral resources. “There are several interests at play,” she notes, “political influence being one of them.”

The contrast with the 2022 election is, in her view, particularly significant. While Washington inevitably had interests in Brazilian politics under President Joe Biden, Dr. Nogueira argues that the current situation is qualitatively different because “the alignment between Trump and the Bolsonaro family is very well known.” This relationship, she cautions, constitutes “a dynamic there that will need more attention and more scrutiny.”

It is in this context that Dr. Nogueira describes the 2026 election as both unusually consequential and potentially dangerous. According to her, the presence of “one political project that’s very well aligned with American interests”means that, “with Trump in government,” the consequences “could be a very disastrous thing for Brazil and Latin America.”

The interview therefore situates Brazil’s electoral contest not only within the domestic struggle between Lulism and Bolsonarism, but also within a broader transnational configuration linking Trumpism, far-right populism, economic restructuring, religious mobilization, and changing expectations about the role of the state.

Beyond the question of US influence, the interview also explores the changing balance between Lulism and Bolsonarism as political projects. Dr. Nogueira argues that Lulism remains anchored in the Northeast and among lower-income voters, but has become increasingly defensive. She suggests that “Lulism has perhaps become a victim of its own success,” as social mobility has altered popular aspirations and Lula’s political appeal has become more closely associated with defending past achievements than promising transformative change. 

Religion is another central theme. Dr. Nogueira stresses that evangelical identity has become deeply embedded in everyday social networks and political value formation, particularly in Brazil’s urban peripheries. At the same time, she cautions against treating “the evangelical vote” as a homogeneous bloc, emphasizing the intersection of religion with class, region, gender, and other identities. 

The interview further situates Brazil within broader transformations in labor and political communication. Dr. Nogueira connects precarious employment, entrepreneurialism, and changing expectations of the state to the appeal of authoritarian and revanchist populism, while also highlighting the growing importance of social media and algorithmic echo chambers in shaping political identities and limiting communication across electoral divides. 

Here is our interview with Dr. Mara Nogueira, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

The Election Will Probably Be Decided by a Very Tight Margin

Brazil, Lula de Silva.
People shout slogans during an International Workers’ Day demonstration in São Paulo, Brazil, on May 1, 2026. Photo: Dreamstime.

Dr. Nogueira, welcome! Brazil enters the October 4 election with Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro separated by only a few points in recent polls, while runoff scenarios also remain extremely tight. What, in your view, are the most important forces currently shaping this contest: evaluations of Lula’s government, the persistence of anti-PT sentiment, the durability of Bolsonarism, economic concerns, public security, religion, or something else? And which of these factors do you think scholars have tended to underestimate?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: Thanks again for having me. As you mentioned, this is turning out to be a very tight race. There’s been some oscillation in the polls, and we can talk about those as we progress. But what the polls have shown since the beginning of the electoral campaign is that a large chunk of the electorate is very stable, showing loyalty to the two sides of this contest: electoral support for Lula on the one hand and for Flávio on the other. So, what we are seeing is that the election will probably be decided by a very tight margin and by a group of voters who are more moderate and not necessarily aligned with either of the two main political groups in Brazil.

All the reasons you have mentioned are relevant explanations for the contest. They’re playing different roles. But I thought that, before we went into the analysis, it would be worth mentioning a bit more about the polls—a more broken-down analysis of what they’re showing. They reveal some of the important factors shaping the contest.

Lula, for instance, is leading in nine states, according to the latest Quest poll. Out of those nine, eight are in the northeast of Brazil. The northeast remains one of his strongholds. Flávio is leading in eight states, and his support is not as centered in any specific region in Brazil. It’s a little more spread out. They are technically tied in nine states, so there are a lot of places where you can’t call a winner yet. Although you can’t call a winner anywhere right now, two of the places where they are tied are São Paulo, which is obviously Brazil’s largest electoral college of voters, and Minas Gerais, which is where I’m from and has perhaps also been Brazil’s swing state, to borrow an American term.

In the last two elections, in 2018 and 2022, whoever won in Minas Gerais won the national election. The margins have been very close as well. In the latest election, Lula won by something like 0.5% of the voters, and that was more or less the margin by which he won in Minas Gerais as well.

So, you have this sort of regional aspect to the race. The other thing to consider is gender. Lula is ahead amongst women, whereas Flávio is ahead amongst men. This is a polarization that is not uncommon in other electoral races around the world.

Lula is ahead in all age groups at the moment, but his lowest margin is amongst younger voters, 16 to 34 years old. Lula is leading in the lowest income bracket, which is up to two minimum wages, and leading by a very high margin. They are almost tied in the middle-income bracket, which is between two and five minimum wages, and Flávio is leading amongst those with higher incomes, which is more than five minimum wages.

Finally, religion, as you mentioned, is also another important element. Lula is leading amongst Catholics, and Flávio leads amongst evangelicals. So, you have some important aspects that are revealed by the polls, and what people have talked about since the beginning is that women’s votes would be very important in this contest.

US Influence Is Shaping Brazil’s Election

It also shows that there are several internal factors shaping this election. But one thing that you didn’t mention in your question and that I think is worth pointing out is the influence of the US in this election. They’re not hiding it. Even before the electoral race began, when Trump imposed tariffs on Brazil, those tariffs had a very high political element to them. He mentioned Bolsonaro, for instance, the father, in his tweet when he announced the tariffs.

Now, in Latin America, in the latest elections, the US has had some role in influencing the race in all of them. Brazil is no different. Brazil is a very important country in the regional context, and the US is very interested in some minerals that Brazil owns. There are several interests at play, political influence being one of them.

I think this is one element that is shaping the election, and perhaps it’s a new element in comparison with the 2022 contest. Not to say that the US wouldn’t have had any interest in Brazil’s election back then, but we had Biden in the American government, whereas now, with Trump, the alignment between Trump and the Bolsonaro family is very well known. So, there is definitely a dynamic there that will need more attention and more scrutiny.

That also makes this election for Brazil a very important and dangerous one, because there is one political project that’s very well aligned with American interests and, with Trump in government, that could be a very disastrous thing for Brazil and Latin America.

Anti-PT Sentiment Shapes the Race a Lot

Supporters of Flávio Bolsonaro gather.
Supporters of Flávio Bolsonaro gather on Avenida Paulista in São Paulo for an Independence Day rally under the slogan “Brazil Will Win.” Photo: Dreamstime.

The 2026 election is striking because Jair Bolsonaro is absent from the ballot, yet Flávio Bolsonaro remains highly competitive. Does this suggest that Bolsonarism has successfully outgrown Jair Bolsonaro as an individual leader and become a more durable political identity? Or does the reliance on another member of the Bolsonaro family indicate that the movement remains fundamentally personalistic and dynastic?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: The one thing that you mentioned in your first question, which was the anti-PT sentiment, is very relevant here as well to understand. Because if you look at the polls for the second round at this stage, we can’t take them seriously because things will change, for sure, after the first round. But what they show is that any candidate—because what’s happening now is that you have Lula on the one side, which represents the center left in Brazil, and all the other candidates with any meaningful vote base are on the right and on the far right. They’re all somehow in the Bolsonarism political force that you mentioned. What the polls show is that Lula would be more or less in a similar position. So, anti-PT sentiment does shape the race a lot. And that sentiment has been very enduring in Brazilian society. The question is: does anti-PT sentiment necessarily mean Bolsonarism? 

I don’t think it’s a coincidence that we have Flávio as a contestant rather than, for instance, Tarcisio Gomes de Freitas, who is the current governor of Sao Paulo and who is running again for election in Sao Paulo, and whom a lot of the elites in Brazil would have preferred as a candidate rather than Flávio. But his father—the family has an interest in the continuity of their dynasty in government.

Bolsonarism Is Part of a Wider Trend of Far-Right Populism

When we’re talking about Brazilian elections, we have to think about it in a context as well, because the far right is a global phenomenon. It’s not just a Brazilian thing. In Brazil, Bolsonaro was, and perhaps remains, even if in prison, the leader of this movement. So, as I already mentioned, despite the numerous scandals surrounding Flávio’s candidacy, he remains competitive partially because of his surname, and partially also because he’s the candidate who has the highest chance of winning against Lula. He’s surfing the wave of his father’s popularity, even if he lacks much of the charisma and the passion that his father had. His voters as well are much less passionate and much less vocal about their support. But they are still very loyal.

So, on the one hand, Bolsonarism is part of a wider trend of far-right populism that I see as a result of multiple factors. And some of those are global, like changes in the global market and the rise of entrepreneurialism as an individualistic response to worsening economic conditions. Also, the limits of representative democracy have to be mentioned. And little is said about how the traditional right has been shattered in multiple places, like the US with the rise of Trumpism, and in the UK with the rise of Reform UK and the demise of the Tory Party.

In Brazil, we saw the shrinking of parties like PSDB, which, for several elections, was the antagonist of the Workers’ Party, with Fernando Ricardozo and later José Serra and Geraldo Alckmin who is now Lula’s vice president. They have lost a lot of support, lost importance. Some have called this polarization, but there are critics who see this term as painting a false equivalence between these two political forces, because what has really happened in Brazil, and in much of the world, is that the political spectrum has been pushed to the right. As a result, even some left-wing parties have had to move a little bit more towards the center. Yes, it’s a polarization, but there’s one on the extreme right, and the other one has been pushed much more to the center.

The question then remains to be asked: what makes the far right so successful in the world right now? In my work, I have talked about the notion of revanchist populism, which, together with my colleague Ryan Sentner, we termed to talk about political movements of people wanting to take back the nation from undeserving groups. If you think about the Global North, if you think about the UK and the US, the most visible element of this political movement is the anti-migration sentiment. Whereas in Latin America, the main issue has been about criminality. These are two political questions that the left has a very difficult time addressing, and the right is quick to respond to with aggressive politics that cater to people’s concerns without actually delivering solutions to very real problems.

For instance, in Brazil, people are facing insecurity in their daily lives. Bolsonaro’s pro-gun agenda, which his son also sponsors, is completely harmful according to all serious research that you have around security, but it appeals to a part of the electorate who is dealing with the real issues of lacking safety in their everyday lives.

In my own research, I also talk about changes in the labor market, which are very important to think about, not only in the Brazilian election but in this changing panorama of politics in the whole world, and which explain the rise of authoritarian populism. Stable jobs are becoming less common, and social democratic states were very much founded on the role of the state as the mediator between capital and work. What we see now is a dissolution of this pact as a result of decades of neoliberal policies and austerity, and the rise of entrepreneurialism as an individual solution towards essentially a collective problem creates a situation in which people are less supportive of the government.

So, this question around what is the government and what’s the role of the government is very important in the current election. Because if you’re a worker, for instance, the state can protect you. Social protection for workers has been one of the key roles of the state in democracies. But when you are an entrepreneur, the state is the one who is taxing you and regulating you. So, there is less appreciation for what the state represents, which is a collective provider of services and rights.

Of course, in Brazil, corruption scandals like the most recent one, which is the Banco Master or the Master Bank fraud, reinforce the idea that the state is nothing but a corrupt machine that exists to suck resources from working people rather than provide rights. In my conversations in the field, I have tried to talk to people about the corruption of private actors, which is something very few people talk about. And I have talked about how billionaires don’t pay taxes, but people don’t seem to care about that as much because they see taxes as being poured into inefficient and corrupt states.

In that context, candidates like Flávio in Brazil and Javier Milei in Argentina are gaining ground because they promise essentially to axe the state, which, for a proportion of the electorate, sounds like a good idea because they perceive the state as a hindrance rather than something which is providing them with services and rights.

I think another element worth mentioning is social media, because the way people consume information has changed massively as well. In each election in Brazil, we have had—the first one where social media had an impact was in 2018. When Bolsonaro was first elected, when the TV ads that were usually the TV political campaign, which had been very important up until 2018, had very little impact because people were consuming news and information much more through WhatsApp and other social media than they were through the TV.

That trend has continued and has become even deeper with time. The way that algorithms create echo chambers means that the information that I see is very different from the information other people see. Sometimes, obviously, it’s hard for candidates to really reach across and reach other candidates’ bubbles with information. There’s very little that can do that. Just big scandals can cross those bubbles.

Religion is a main factor as well, but I think you have a question about that later, so I’ll save my answer.

Lulism Has Perhaps Become a Victim of Its Own Success

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

At the same time, Lulism appears resilient but more defensive than during Lula’s earlier presidencies. Lula remains strong among lower-income voters, Catholics, older voters, and in the Northeast, but his government enters the election without overwhelming approval. How would you characterize the current state of Lulism? Is it still a transformative political project, or has it become increasingly a coalition organized around social protection, democratic stability, and resistance to the radical right?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: What the polls show, as I mentioned in the response to your first question, is that Lula is very strong in the Northeast and also very strong with the poorest voters, up to two minimum wages. This group remains, like the Northeast, a stronghold of Lulism, and the poorest electorate also remains a stronghold of Lula. In the case of the Northeast, the region, which is the poorest in the country, has benefited from Bolsa Familia and other social programs that are essentially the backbone of what has been termed Lulism.

I look back at André Singer’s article, when he first coined this term, and in that article, what he was doing was calling attention to a change in the composition of Lula’s voters from 2002 to 2006, which were the first two elections that Lula won. In 2006, he had lost ground with the more educated, the middle and upper class, which was his main electorate in 2002 and also had been his main electorate throughout the three elections that he lost in ’89, ’94, and ’98. But this loss of this electorate, which was more loyal to him, was compensated for with electoral gains in what Singer called back then the subproletariat, which essentially means the poorest and the precarious workers, who are generally also informal—not waged workers. Also the unemployed, who benefited most from Lula’s social programmes, particularly Bolsa Familia.

So, when you ask if Lulism is still a transformative political project, or has it become increasingly a coalition organised around social protection, democratic stability, and resistance to the radical right, I think you’re pointing to something relevant, because Lula’s major achievement in his political life has been to uplift a huge amount of people from poverty. And a lot of people remember that, and a large amount of those who benefited are still loyal to him, as we can see from the poll numbers. He’s strong in office and amongst those with the lowest incomes.

But Lulism has perhaps become a victim of its own success, and there are other people talking about that, such as Rosana Pinheiro-Machado and Laura Carvalho. Both have published interesting articles recently in Brazil’s main media outlet, which is from Sao Paulo, talking a bit about these changes in people’s aspirations in recent years in Brazil, mostly people’s economic aspirations.

So, a lot of those who left poverty, as well as their sons and daughters, now want more. They are not the poorest of the poor anymore. They want—they aspire to something else. They aspire to social mobility, to being able to afford services and goods that would represent that transition. And I think, again, social media has an important role here because it really shapes people’s aspirations to access products and services that they are not able to access at the moment.

The Left Has Become Conservative While the Right Is Promising Change

I think what has been happening is that Lula’s campaign has been very focused on defending his legacy, defending the achievements of his previous governments, which are very important. He took Brazil out of the hunger map twice. He lifted a lot of people out of poverty. But this legacy is not taking him far enough at this point, because he needs to promise more than what he’s done already. He needs to perhaps promise a more transformative project.

It’s not just Lula who is struggling with that. That is an issue with all kinds of social democratic parties in the world, which also explains the rise of the right, which has become the more disruptive group. The left, and Lula is an example of that, has become conservative in the sense that it’s about defending a legacy, it’s about defending rights, it’s about conserving social gains, and the right is promising change.

I don’t believe that it’s change for the better, that it’s radical change that necessarily delivers what people want—these aspirations. But for a lot of people, that promise of radical change is very appealing. I think that shaped the 2018 election in which Bolsonaro won, is shaping a lot of the changes that we see in the UK, for instance, with Reform UK gaining ground, and explains a bit Trump’s win in the US. So, this idea that what people have right now is not enough and they want more, and they want radical transformation that the left has not been able to promise.

Lula Is a Victim of His Conciliatory Agenda

The government has placed renewed emphasis on Bolsa Família, debt relief, fuel prices, and household income during the final phase of the campaign. To what extent can the classic material foundations of Lulism still mobilize voters in a political environment where religion, security, morality, and cultural identity have become increasingly salient? Has the relationship between redistribution and electoral loyalty weakened?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: The impact of some of Lula’s more recent actions is yet to be captured by the polls. There was a rise in Bolsa Familia, for instance, and the most recent of his political moves has been to ban betting in Brazil, which has been identified as a huge problem connected to growing indebtedness, but also as a health problem in Brazil. You have addiction to betting becoming a key issue, sucking resources out of an already strained public health system.

Some of those moves haven’t been reflected in the polls yet. So we are waiting to see if they will have an impact on those swing voters that, as I said in the beginning, will be the most important in deciding the election.

But there is definitely a limit to the ways that better economic indicators, such as low inflation and low unemployment, are affecting people’s votes. There are other people—Laura Carvalho, in this journal article that I was talking about, mentions that. I think we have partially two issues.

One is that we have low inflation, but price levels are very high, and these high price levels are still an enduring consequence of the pandemic, and also perhaps Bolsonaro’s government, when we saw rising prices during his four years in government. We have low inflation, but what low inflation means is that prices are growing at a lower pace. So people are still perceiving that they’re spending a lot of money on products and services. There’s not a lot of money left after you’ve paid for your rent, and for food, and for fuel, and so on and so forth.

The other thing is that, yes, we have very low unemployment, historically low in Brazil, but Brazil remains a low-salary economy. If you look at the 2022 census results, which are now a bit old but give us a snapshot of Brazil, they showed that almost 70% of Brazilians earn up to two minimum wages. So there’s low unemployment, and incomes are growing ever so slowly, but you have a huge amount of Brazilians who are very low paid. With two minimum wages in Brazil, you’re very strained if you’re paying rent, if you’re paying for food and for fuel. There’s very little left at the end of the month.

When people post a show and people were asking, “Do you think you have enough money to pay for your monthly expenses?” a lot of people are saying no to that. Then you have indebtedness as an issue. As you mentioned, Lula has responded to that with several programmes. But one of the impediments to these policies being effective is that Brazil has a very high interest rate. That is a legacy of the Real Plan in 1994. When we controlled inflation, one of the elements of that plan was high interest rates. That has been a crucial characteristic of the Brazilian economy ever since. So indebtedness will be very difficult to deal with as long as we have high interest rates.

What I think is worth mentioning is that, just going back a little bit to Lulism and so on, and its constraints or its limitations, as I already mentioned, Lula delivered lower poverty rates and a stable economy, but without any radical changes in terms of the economic structure. I’m not saying that Flávio’s programme of government is better. It’s very unclear in its economic proposals. But there’s definitely a limit to the inclusion without structural change, or without challenging established elites, that Lula has promoted.

Lula, in some senses, is a victim of his conciliatory agenda, which makes him a very skillful politician, but brings limits when you are trying to please groups with very divergent needs and agendas. You’re bound to be unable to deliver radical change because, to do that, you have to actually step into very established interests.

For instance, if we go back again to Lula’s first election that he won in 2002, back then he assured markets by choosing a businessman as his vice president and promising to keep the main elements of his predecessor’s economic policy in place: inflation targets, primary budget surpluses, and a floating exchange rate. This macroeconomic tripod has become so key that nobody even mentions it anymore as something that’s challenged.

The Challenge for the Left Is to Offer a Political Project of Real Change

Rather than breaking sharply with the previous government, Lula signalled back then continuity in macroeconomic management by expanding social programmes. So the growth that he achieved and the inclusion were via taking people out of poverty and into the market, with real increases in minimum wages also boosting domestic demand. And as many have observed, it was a process of inclusion via consumption, essentially. People became consumers. The issue is that, when you’re a consumer, the state does not enter your life as a provider of rights, but as a tax collector.

You can see reflections of that in his government’s attempt to tax international purchases, aiming at websites such as Shein and Alibaba, which have grown immensely in Brazil. This tax was an attempt to help local businesses that are unable to compete with international brands, particularly Chinese. The reaction was so intense that the government has had to make a U-turn on that policy.

So the challenge for Lula and for the left in the world right now is to offer a political project of real change that can appeal to people’s aspirations. But this is not a very easy task, as shown by the difficulties of left-wing parties in various places, particularly in Latin America right now.

Religion Is Definitely a Big Factor Shaping Brazilian Politics

Christ the Redeemer statue.
Tourists enjoy the first sunset after a week of rain and thunderstorms from Corcovado Hill, overlooking Rio de Janeiro, Brazil, on March 3, 2013, with the Christ the Redeemer statue above the city. Photo: Kseniya Ragozina / Dreamstime.

Recent polling reveals one of the clearest religious divides in Brazilian politics: Flávio Bolsonaro has a substantial advantage among evangelicals, while Lula remains considerably stronger among Catholics. How decisive is this religious cleavage for the 2026 election, and what mechanisms actually convert religious affiliation into electoral behavior—pastoral leadership, church-based social networks, moral issues, digital communication, or broader perceptions of social order and threat?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: When I was talking about the polls in the beginning, I mentioned that Flávio Bolsonaro is leading amongst evangelicals, whereas Lula is leading amongst Catholics. In Brazil, religion is definitely a big factor that has been shaping society and politics for a longer period now.

It’s interesting to notice that Brazil is the only country in the world where we have observed a massive change in religious identity without any influence of the state. You have about a third of Brazilians right now, as shown by a recent research survey, who are evangelicals. If you look at Brazil in the 1950s, you had 90% of Brazilians who were Catholic back then. You have this huge change in religious identity in the country, which is bound to have a lot of societal consequences.

One of the things to notice is that the evangelical church has become, for a lot of people, the main way through which they find community and belonging, particularly in the peripheries of urban centers. In any peripheral neighborhood in Brazil, there are a number of evangelical churches. You might not find any sort of public services, you might not find many public schools or public health centers, but you will find evangelical churches almost anywhere in Brazil.

This religious identity is not just about values. It’s about people’s everyday lives, who forms their social networks, who they talk to, and how they form their values as well. When you mention that there are different aspects through which religion enters political life, I think the main one is through the formation of values. For years now, essentially, the ways that people see the world have been shaped by religious identities. When the electorate comes in and one candidate says things that are aligned with those values, this candidate is bound to attract more voters amongst those religious communities.

Obviously, it’s not just about values. You have different political figures in Brazil, like Silas Malafaia, for instance, who use their religious communities to support particular candidates. There is also pastoral leadership, as you mentioned: people who are leaders of religious communities, who really tell the community who to vote for.

Religion Shapes Electoral Behavior, but It Intersects with Other Identities

There has been a recent survey that Quest, alongside the Institute of Religious Studies in Brazil, has just published, and it shows a lot of interesting things about how religion shapes politics in Brazil. One of the things that it mentions is that when you think about people having religious identities, it’s not the only identity that they have.

For instance, if you take a person who is evangelical, the polls show that the majority of evangelicals vote for Flávio, but if you take, for instance, an evangelical person who lives in the Northeast and makes up to two minimum wages, there’s a big chance as well that this person might vote for Lula. So, you have these intersecting identities with religion, which also shape people’s votes, apart from religion itself.

One of the things that I thought was interesting that this survey showed is that about eight in 10 respondents were opposed to political discussions in churches. Around nine in 10 reject the presence of electoral candidates in religious services. Yes, religion might shape their identities, might shape their political votes, but people don’t want people asking for votes inside churches or asking for support or talking about politics inside churches. That doesn’t stop it from happening, but there is a rejection of that.

There’s an interesting point despite this idea that religion alone cannot explain people’s behaviors. There’s a new controversy every week in Brazil that is shaping the election. The most recent one has to do with Brazil’s patron saint, which is Nossa Senhora de Aparecida, or Lady Aparecida, who is Brazil’s patron saint.

Rumors are circulating that Flávio wins, due to an old bill proposed by one of his supporters to change Brazil’s patron saint, he will propose a change in Brazil’s patron saint. That has had such an effect that he had to record a video saying that he wouldn’t do that, holding a little doll of Lady Aparecida to cater to the Catholics. Because he can’t afford to lose. If you take people who are more educated, who are older, but are not very aligned with either of them, they are swing voters. So, the race is so tight that you can’t really lose voters in demographics where otherwise a candidate is more dominant. 

This anecdote shows the importance of religion in Brazil and how it’s really shaping people’s electoral behaviors, but at the same time, it intersects with other identities when you’re thinking about how people actually vote.

Lula Is Trying to Reach Evangelicals Through Their Other Identities

At the same time, the category of “the evangelical vote” risks obscuring major denominational, class, gender, racial, and regional differences. Are there signs that evangelical support for Bolsonarism is becoming more politically differentiated? And could Lula’s attempts to engage evangelical constituencies meaningfully narrow this gap, or has evangelical identification with the Bolsonaro camp become too deeply institutionalized?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: As I already said, what this survey that I was mentioning shows is that religion alone cannot explain it. You have all these other social differences—class, gender, race, but also regional differences—which are shaping people’s electoral identities and votes.

Even though religion alone also has an impact, not just because of values but, as I mentioned before, also because certain key religious figures, particularly in the evangelical church, have very strong political affiliations with Bolsonarism. I didn’t mention before that it’s not just about the presidential race, but also the Congress. You have a whole group in the Congress, which is the Bible group, which is very much aligned with evangelical identities.

When you’re thinking about religion, there’s also the Congress to think about. Because we are very focused on the presidential race—because obviously it’s the tight race, it’s the one that polarises Brazil the most—the race to the Congress, and the power that the Congress has gained recently in Brazilian politics, is also very worth talking about.

But in relation to your question more specifically, Lula trying to gain the evangelical vote through a particular lens, like the evangelical vote, will not be very successful. But he’s trying to reach the evangelical vote through their other identities. For instance, if you look at the survey that I was talking about, which was with people throughout the whole of Brazil and people who are religious independently of their religion, what the survey shows is that there are divides between evangelicals and Catholics, but there are also a lot of convergences. One of them is that they support Bolsa Familia as a social program.

When Lula increases the Bolsa Familia payments, he is somehow trying to cater to the evangelicals who are supportive of Bolsa Familia. When he bans betting in Brazil, he is catering to the evangelicals to an extent. Rejection of betting in Brazil was at 75%, so he’s definitely going to get to evangelical families as well.

Whether they’re going to swing the vote to him remains to be seen, but there are measures that he’s taking that aim at groups that will also be evangelical. If he tries to cater to evangelicals through their evangelical identity, it’s going to be ineffective because he doesn’t have a history of connection to evangelicals, and he’s going to look fake, and I don’t think that would be very useful for him.

Bolsonarism Is Part of a Global Phenomenon

Labour Day celebrations
Labour Day celebrations at Old Town Square in Prague on May 1, 2017, featuring a banner depicting democracy as a leaf eaten by caterpillars labeled Putin, Kaczyński, Orbán, Babiš, Trump, and Fico.
Photo: Jolanta Wojcicka.

Bolsonarism is frequently compared with Trumpism, and your work on revanchist populism situates Brazil within a broader geography of angry, restorative populisms. Yet Brazil differs sharply from the United States in its party system, religiosity, racial formation, labor informality, welfare state, and territorial inequalities. Which dimensions of Trumpism and Bolsonarism are genuinely comparable, and where does that analogy obscure more than it reveals? How would you situate Brazil alongside cases such as Milei’s Argentina or Bukele’s El Salvador?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: As I mentioned in the beginning, Bolsonarism in Brazil is part of a global phenomenon: the rise of the far right, or the authoritarian right, or revanchist populism, to use the term that Brian Sentner and myself have coined. It has to do with what I was talking about, which is this promise of radical change and this promise to retake the nation from undeserving populations. That is at the abstract level. But who those undeserving people are will be shaped by the different geographies and the different cultures and societies that we are talking about.

In the special issue that we had that talked about revanchist populism, one of the cleavages that we looked at in the US is this very clear division between the urban and rural vote. The urban vote tends to go to the Democratic Party, and the rural vote tends to go to Trump. In Brazil, we don’t necessarily have that.

You have the urban peripheries as key sites to think about swing votes—how peripheries have changed from supporting the left to supporting the right in 2018, and have remained divided ever since. What we see in Brazil, which is worth noting, is that urban peripheries are places where people are dealing with lack of infrastructure, where people are facing long commutes to work, and where people are using a very strained public health system.

Flávio Looks to Milei for the Economy and Bukele for Security

So, it ties back to that question of the government and of the state more broadly that I mentioned earlier: What’s the role of the state, and what is the state doing in my life? What candidates like Trump, Flávio, Milei, and Bukele promise is a liberal state in the economic sense and a strong state in the sense of controlling criminality and migration. Flávio, for instance, when he’s talking about his economic agenda and his agenda for public security, mentions Milei for the economy and Bukele for security. Those are two very important reference points for his campaign.

What you see is what the state should be doing. The state should not be taxing, and it ties back to that question that I mentioned earlier of how inclusion via consumption, on the one hand, as a policy, has turned people into consumers, and the demise of stable jobs. That’s not just a Brazilian thing. That’s also a very global phenomenon.

In Brazil, informality has been an issue for a much longer time, but uncertainty in the job market has become more relevant, and people become entrepreneurs as an individual response to problems around the lack of stable jobs. It turns people into entrepreneurs on the one hand and consumers on the other hand. For both of those positions in society, the state is not a provider of rights, it’s not a provider of services. The state is collecting taxes and regulating.

You see that, as I mentioned, just going back to the attempt of the state to tax international purchases. It’s a very interesting thing to look at, and how it backlashed against the government, because people want to consume, and they want to buy as cheaply as possible. That also has to do with their aspirations, which is another thing that I mentioned shaping people’s political choices and identities.

So, yes, there’s a lot of difference between Brazil and the US, but at the abstract level, you have that question around radical change and the role of the government. And this promise of freedom in the economic sense with conservatism and a strong state against migration and criminality.

Bolsonarism Is Very Much Alive and Will Stay with Us for Many More Years

And finally, Dr. Nogueira, the 2026 election appears to test two succession problems at once: whether Bolsonarism can survive Jair Bolsonaro through a wider political, religious, congressional, and digital ecosystem, and whether Lulism can survive beyond Lula’s personal authority. From the perspective of your work on space, labor, popular governance, and political affect, what would a genuinely post-Lula and post-Jair Brazilian political order look like? Which social forces are most likely to shape that transition?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: Unfortunately, Bolsonarism is very much alive and will last and stay with us for many more years, whereas Lulism is very attached to Lula at the moment. And that’s another one of the limitations of the Workers’ Party political agenda for Brazil, because there is no succession. Who is Lula’s successor? Fernando Haddad, for instance, who ran in 2018, didn’t attract as many voters as Lula does, and he’s not being very successful now against Tarcisio in Sao Paulo. He is Lula’s preferred choice to replace him in the future. But he doesn’t have the same charisma and the same capacity that Flavio has to attract his father’s voters. So, I don’t think you will see such a neat transition of voters from Lula to his successor as you see from Jair Bolsonaro to Flavio Bolsonaro, because they are related. But anti-Lula, anti-PT sentiment shapes a lot of people’s political choices.

If you were asking me how I see that in relation to my work, I already mentioned the changes in the labor market, which will also remain and will become even more relevant in the future. We are not seeing a movement towards more stability in jobs. On the contrary, with AI and other changes in the world, job stability is becoming more of a question. So, whoever wants to capture the political votes and also the political identities of people will have to deal with that change, will have to address people’s concerns and address people’s aspirations.

The other thing is social media, which we already talked about, that’s shaping how people consume content and news, and how they form their opinions. It is also not something that will change unless we have a very united front—not only in Brazil; it would have to be a more global thing—to regulate social media and to change the way algorithms and social media are working right now.

Unfortunately, I would like to have a more hopeful answer. But I think if Lula wins this election, I don’t see the Workers’ Party having a strong successor for the next round, for the 2030 election.

Young Voters Are Where Lula Is the Weakest

On the other hand, just going back to the polls, young voters are where Lula is the weakest. That’s another element to pay attention to. How do you capture the political vote of young people, or how do you cater to the needs of young people who are also dealing with the impact of climate change?

We didn’t talk about this during the interview because it’s not something that has been part of the political agenda at the moment. Neither Flavio nor Lula are very strong on climate change. Flavio is a climate change nihilist, whereas Lula has made some steps towards becoming a leader of the Global South in terms of the environmental transition and so on, but he also has such a strong attachment to the oil industry in Brazil. Thus, he doesn’t have a very stable position on the environmental agenda.

That might be something that could capture young voters, although it hasn’t played much of a role in this election contest, and could perhaps do so if someone appears on the left, such as Mamdani, whom you see in New York City. I think he’s one of the most interesting political figures on the left right now, because he’s promising radical change. The young voters and those struggling with all the issues that we’ve been talking about in this interview are hopeful together with him.