Professor Danielle Allen.

Prof. Allen: AI Should Strengthen Human Judgment, Not Replace It

Artificial intelligence (AI) is transforming far more than information ecosystems—it is reshaping the constitutional foundations of democracy itself. In this interview with the ECPS, Professor Danielle Allen argues that the central challenge of AI is not merely technological but constitutional, requiring democratic societies to rethink representation, political power, and civic agency. Rejecting technological determinism, she contends that democratic institutions can still shape AI’s trajectory, provided they strengthen rather than diminish human judgment. Discussing populism, democratic backsliding, surveillance, intermediary institutions, digital citizenship, and constitutional reform, Professor Allen presents a compelling vision of democratic renewal grounded in one core principle: artificial intelligence should complement human capacities—not replace the judgment upon which liberal democracy ultimately depends.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Artificial intelligence is rapidly transforming the institutional architecture of democratic politics. While much public debate has focused on misinformation, deepfakes, automation, and employment, a growing body of scholarship suggests that the more profound implications of generative AI lie elsewhere: in its capacity to reshape political authority, democratic representation, and the constitutional foundations of liberal self-government. As AI systems increasingly mediate public discourse, organize information, influence political preferences, and concentrate unprecedented forms of economic and computational power, the central question is no longer simply how societies should regulate a new technology, but how constitutional democracies themselves must adapt to preserve political equality, civic agency, and democratic accountability.

Few scholars are better positioned to address these challenges than Professor Danielle Allen, James Bryant Conant University Professor at Harvard University, Director of the Allen Lab for Democracy Renovation and the Democratic Knowledge Project, and one of the world’s leading political philosophers working at the intersection of constitutional democracy, citizenship, technology, and democratic renewal. In her widely discussed Journal of Democracy essay, The Real Dangers of Generative AI,” Professor Allen argues that contemporary debates have fundamentally misidentified the nature of the challenge. Rather than treating AI as merely a technological disruption, she contends that it represents a constitutional turning point requiring a fundamental rethinking of democratic institutions themselves.

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Allen offers a remarkably expansive framework for understanding how AI intersects with democratic governance. Rejecting the conventional separation between technology and constitutional politics, she argues that “political institutions are themselves technologies” and therefore cannot be understood independently of technological transformation. From this perspective, AI is not simply another digital innovation but a force capable of altering the institutional mechanisms through which democratic societies organize representation, distribute political power, and preserve constitutional order.

Throughout the conversation, Professor Allen explores the twin dangers confronting liberal democracies: democratic collapse, produced by the erosion of trustworthy informational infrastructures, and democratic singularity, arising from unprecedented concentrations of computational, informational, and economic power. At the same time, she rejects technological determinism. Instead, she insists that democratic societies retain the capacity to shape AI’s trajectory through institutional reform, constitutional safeguards, and renewed democratic participation.

A recurring theme throughout the interview is the centrality of human agency. Professor Allen argues that democratic renewal ultimately depends not upon resisting technological innovation but upon designing institutions that preserve civic judgment and constitutional self-government. As she puts it, “technology always develops out of a moral vision,” making AI fundamentally a political rather than merely technical question. Consequently, she maintains that the essential democratic task is not simply regulating machines but ensuring that “AI should strengthen human judgment, not replace it.” That principle ultimately serves as the interview’s normative anchor, connecting questions of constitutional design, democratic education, AI governance, intermediary institutions, populism, surveillance, and the future of liberal democracy into a single coherent vision of democratic resilience in the age of artificial intelligence.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Danielle Allen, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Political Institutions Are Themselves Technologies

Facial recognition technology.
Facial recognition technology scans individuals and displays digital identity and personal data, illustrating AI-powered biometric surveillance. Photo: Piyamas Dulmunsumphun / Dreamstime.

Professor Allen, welcome! Let me begin with your recent Journal of Democracy article, The Real Dangers of Generative AI.” You argue that public debate has focused too heavily on misinformation, deepfakes, and job displacement while overlooking AI’s deeper capacity to restructure political authority and democratic institutions. Why do you believe the greatest threat posed by generative AI is constitutional rather than merely technological, and how does this fundamentally change the way scholars should understand democratic backsliding?

Professor Danielle Allen: Thank you. It’s an important question. I would start by saying that I don’t draw a distinction between the merely technological and the constitutional. Political institutions are themselves technologies. Representation, when it was invented in the eighteenth century, along with electoral districts and voting methods and so forth, was a technology. It was a technology for channeling citizens’ voices into decision-making and producing a counterweight to the other forms of power that existed in monarchical and aristocratic structures. Consequently, any major technological change that affects information, communication, and related domains has the potential to disrupt that foundational technology through which we organize politics.

For the last four decades, policymaking circles have prioritized material well-being while substantially downgrading questions of political organization. As a result, we have underestimated and under-attended to the ways new technologies can disrupt our core political technologies because of this broader blind spot in thinking about politics. In that regard, what I’m trying to do is rectify a broader blind spot in policymaking—to help people remember that our political institutions, whether people have political empowerment, access to voice, and so forth, are essential parts of the story of human flourishing. We have to pay attention to those things as policymakers. And secondly, we have to pay close attention whenever a major disruptive technology directly interacts with those original technologies of representation.

The Concentration of Power Poses Dangers to Core Democratic Rights

You distinguish between what you call “democratic collapse” and “democratic singularity.” Could you explain how these two concepts differ? To what extent does the concentration of computational, informational, and economic power in a handful of corporations create conditions that resemble the concentration of political power traditionally associated with authoritarian regimes?

Professor Danielle Allen: Great question. What my co-author, E. Glen Weyl, and I were trying to do in that article was to describe two dangers that liberal democracies have to navigate. We call these the danger of collapse and the danger of singularity.

The danger of collapse is one in which the informational infrastructures on which you rely for popular sovereignty and institutionally driven decision-making no longer function because of misinformation, deepfakes, the collapse of identity systems, and things like that. That’s one danger the new technologies are provoking as they interact with the traditional technologies of representation.

The second danger is the concentration of power that you’ve been describing. That concentration can emerge in several ways. There’s the issue of capital, the concentration of capital, and the sort of political power that flows from it. There’s also the issue of the concentration of power through control of data and surveillance capacity. Both of those things harbor dangers to core democratic rights, whether those are rights of privacy or rights of equal voice in a political system, and so forth.

So, these are the two dangers: on the one hand, the possibility of chaos and collapse; on the other, the concentration of power. The hard question, then, is how the institutions of liberal democracy can steer through this period of rapid change and transformation, secure control over the new technologies, and truly integrate their capacities into the project of liberal self-government.

What We Really Have Is a Clash of Intermediaries

Truth Social.
Truth Social displayed on a smartphone. The social media platform, owned by Donald Trump, was launched as an alternative to mainstream social media. Photo: Rokas Tenys / Dreamstime.

Across Europe and North America, populist leaders increasingly claim to represent “the people” while simultaneously attacking intermediary institutions such as independent media, universities, courts, and civil services. Does generative AI risk accelerating precisely this populist logic by allowing leaders to communicate directly with citizens while bypassing democratic intermediaries altogether?

Professor Danielle Allen: That’s a great question. I would put the situation slightly differently. I would say it’s not so much that they’re bypassing intermediaries as deploying AI as a new kind of intermediary. In that regard, yes, the traditional intermediaries are under pressure from a new set of intermediaries. Those new intermediaries are the tech infrastructures that populists are using to communicate. In other words, when President Trump establishes Truth Social as an alternative to the existing social media platforms, he is not dispensing with intermediaries but creating his own intermediary, namely that platform.

So, what we really have is a clash of intermediaries. The challenge is that the old intermediaries—universities, newspapers, the traditional institutions, and so forth—grew up in a legal environment, and actively defended a legal environment, that placed a set of basic rights at its center: freedom of expression, freedom of conscience, freedom of civil society to maintain independence from government, and the like.

The new intermediaries, by contrast, are not necessarily dependent on those basic rights for their growth or committed to protecting them. That’s where the problem arises.

This is captured, for example, in the challenge surrounding Section 230 of the US Communications Decency Act. That provision has essentially exempted social media platforms from regulation on the grounds that regulating them would amount to regulating speech. It collapses speech and algorithms. We ought to be able to regulate algorithms, which essentially perform an editorial or publishing function, in the same way that the print media found itself regulated.

Print media was liable for libel, defamation, and similar harms because of its editorial decisions, whereas social media platforms have been exempted from all of that. Mistakenly exempted, that’s the point I’m making. Because they have been able to flourish without the kinds of careful mechanisms for balancing the protection of speech rights with protection against harms such as defamation and libel, we have experienced rampant problems of misinformation. So, the point I’m trying to make is simply that the old intermediaries have baked into them a more stable and useful rights-based structure than the new intermediaries do.

The Personalized Algorithmic Universe Is Becoming Completely Unreliable

Your work suggests that democracy ultimately depends upon citizens sharing a sufficiently common informational environment. Yet generative AI enables highly individualized persuasion at unprecedented scale. Are we moving from an era of mass propaganda toward what might be called algorithmic individualized populism, where every voter effectively receives a personalized political reality?

Professor Danielle Allen: That’s a great question. To some extent, I think the answer has to be ‘yes’. Although I think there’s a situation beyond that. What is really happening is that everybody is going to be thrown back on communication with their own trusted networks, and that’s what they will rely on as their source of information.

The personalized algorithmic universe is also one that people are already coming to recognize as completely unreliable. You can’t distinguish between AI-generated things and real things, and so forth. As we develop digital competence—and by that I mean the ability to use these tools ourselves so that we can understand how easily they can be manipulated and manipulate others—we will inoculate ourselves against some of the dangers of that algorithmic environment.

What that, then, means is that we will basically trust the people we actually know and our communications with those people. So, in a funny way, the very big world that we had made small through communications technology is about to become much bigger again. It is going to be harder for people to share trusted messages at scale, precisely because the level of distrust is going to be so high.

We Need Algorithms That Encourage People to Bridge Viewpoint Differences

Artificial Intelligence.
Artificial intelligence as a next-generation technology shaping the digital era. Photo: Dreamstime.

One striking feature of contemporary populism is its capacity to transform emotional identity into political loyalty. To what extent do recommended algorithms and generative AI amplify precisely those forms of resentment, grievance, and identity polarization upon which contemporary populist movements increasingly depend?

Professor Danielle Allen: They certainly seem to be very active contributors to that. There’s important work being done now by technologists and political scientists to propose alternative structures for algorithms that are focused on pro-social incentives—algorithmic incentives that encourage people to build more bridges across viewpoint differences—and better contextualization tools so that people can see the full spread of opinion and understand where their own opinion sits within that landscape. That helps avoid some of the effects and emotional impacts that come from the siloization of opinion.

The problems you’re describing are all very real. They are the dominant problems in our social media and algorithmic landscape at the moment. At the same time, there really is innovative new work. I’m thinking of people like Aviv Ovadya and his colleague Luke Thorburn, and others who are generating an alternative set of structures for our algorithmic foundation.

Existing Scholarly Foundations Can Be Extended Into the Age of AI

Much scholarship on democratic erosion focuses on executive aggrandizement, judicial capture, electoral manipulation, and attacks on independent institutions. Does AI require us to rethink democratic backsliding itself by recognizing that democracy may now be weakened through the concentration of technological infrastructure rather than solely through constitutional manipulation?

Professor Danielle Allen: I’m not so sure if it requires fundamentally different analytical categories. When, for example, people were studying the genocides in Rwanda, Serbia, and Croatia, one of the key technologies that facilitated them was radio and its use to spread slurs, dehumanizing rhetoric, and memes that helped frame the ultimate victims of genocide as enemies and non-humans, and things like that. My point is that the study of autocracy has long included the study of technology and mass communication. Those pre-existing scholarly foundations can simply be extended into the contemporary context. I don’t think it’s a change of kind so much as a change of scale.

We Don’t Face an Emerging Problem—We Face an Already Existing One

You argue that democracy requires not merely political equality but also a broad distribution of power. Looking at the rapid consolidation of frontier AI among a handful of technology companies, do you believe liberal democracies face an emerging form of private constitutional power that existing democratic institutions are largely unequipped to regulate?

Professor Danielle Allen: I think we don’t face an emerging problem; we face an actually existent, interior problem. It has already emerged, and it’s a totally real problem. Europe has done a better job regulating this power than the US has. I’m thinking about the GDPR(The General Data Protection Regulation) and other forms of regulation, including the recent EU AI Act. That tells me it’s not that liberal democracies lack the capacity to regulate these technologies; it’s that the US, specifically, doesn’t have the capacity right now to regulate them. So, this is not a permanent problem but a political problem here in the US.

I also think we probably have a lot to learn from the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the first Gilded Age, as we call it. We’re living through a second Gilded Age, and just as in the first, industrialization produced corporations with enormous concentrations of power, robber barons, and corporations that sought monopolistic control not only of the economy but also of political structures. We’re watching a repeat of all of that.

Those concentrations of power were broken up in the early twentieth century through a very serious array of anti-trust policies. People often point to the importance of the work of Supreme Court Justice Louis Brandeis, for example. Today, there’s a whole slew of what people call neo-Brandeisian anti-monopoly policies that many are advocating. I think we do need another era of trust-busting, breaking up those concentrations of power.

I know the dynamic right now between Europe, the EU, and the US is extremely complicated and painful. I will say that I take it as good news that Europe is starting to build a path toward empowering its own tech companies. I do think that taking on the monopoly of the US firms is an important thing to do.

There’s Going to Be a Battle Between Globe-Spanning Tech Powers and Nation-States

Elon Musk.
Elon Musk—founder and CEO of SpaceX, CEO of Tesla, owner of X (formerly Twitter), and co-founder of Neuralink and OpenAI—speaks at VIVA Technology (VivaTech), June 16, 2023. Photo: Frédéric Legrand / Dreamstime.

Throughout democratic history, monopolies over information have often strengthened authoritarian rule. How different is today’s AI revolution from earlier media revolutions such as radio, television, or social media? Does generative AI represent a quantitative extension of those transformations, or does it constitute a genuinely new constitutional moment?

Professor Danielle Allen: It’s a great question. To be honest, I don’t think I really have an answer. In some ways, it’s an obvious continuation, and I’ve already mentioned that. On the other hand, the speed and scale of change are wholly new for humanity. That’s honestly the part that concerns me the most: the rapidity and the totalizing nature of it.

Take the fact that somebody like Elon Musk can, in five years, manage to have half of the world’s satellites in space. It’s probably more than half of them by now. He has the capacity to intervene directly in geopolitical decision-making among the world’s nation-states. That’s what’s fundamentally different. The earlier technologies came into existence and existed essentially within nation-states. We now have corporations with a degree of political control that puts them in a more powerful position than nation-states.

It’s not that this has never happened before. In the eighteenth century, for example, Britain faced, roughly speaking, a similar kind of problem with the East India Company. Other European powers faced similar challenges with the colonial trading empires that they first allowed to grow and then discovered had gone beyond their control. That, of course, led to the struggles in the nineteenth century between nation-state governments and those colonial companies. We are likely to see another period of that kind of struggle.

I don’t think the nation-state is doomed. I don’t think it’s doomed primarily because people still live in places. Human beings are embodied, and we are instantiated in geographic locales. Our communities matter to us, and that feature of human life, which starts from the ground and extends outward, will continue to be an important part of governance and jurisdictionality. So, in that regard, there’s going to be a battle, for sure, between globe-spanning tech powers and nation-states. I do think nation-states can win in the end. And I would argue they should win. But it’s going to be a very hard period of struggle.

Technology Should Complement Human Intelligence, Not Replace It

In “How AI Fails Us,” you criticize the dominant vision of AI as autonomous intelligence and instead advocate technologies that augment human cooperation rather than replace it. How might this alternative vision reshape democratic governance? Could cooperative AI become a tool for democratic renewal rather than democratic erosion?

Professor Danielle Allen: I appreciate that question. What really matters here is that we sometimes think the way technology is currently unfolding is somehow a matter of the laws of nature or the laws of physics—that it’s simply a natural outgrowth of nature itself. That’s a mistake, and it already gives away too much power. Technology always develops out of some kind of moral vision. By moral vision, I mean a way of understanding human beings, human capacity, and the human relationship to nature and the world.

The argument of that paper is that the moral vision behind the current technological supernova rests on a flawed premise. That premise is that there is one thing called human intelligence, that it is singular, and that machines are trying to replicate and ultimately overcome it. Whereas, in fact, human intelligence is multiple. It comes in a whole range of varieties. Machine intelligence is also multiple. That plurality of our intelligences is valuable to specific societies and to humankind as a whole.

Plurality can be activated for tribalism, conflict, and division, or it can be activated for creativity, innovation, and cultural richness. One of the most important human projects, therefore, is to give ourselves the tools to activate the plurality of our intelligences for those positive outcomes.

If you begin with that basic vision of human beings and human well-being, then you can see a completely different approach to technological development. It is an approach based on activating that plurality in a positive way, one that requires complementing human intelligences rather than trying to overcome or replace them.

Very ordinary technologies, like the Zoom technology we’re using right now, provide a good example. Zoom complements what human beings can do. We can’t see across thousands of miles, so being able to do that through Zoom supplements what we are already able to do. It doesn’t actually replace anything we were previously doing. So, one can begin to envision a host of things that would be wonderful to be able to do that are all supplemental rather than replacing our core capacities.

We Need a Formally Articulated Bill of Rights Against the Powers of AI

Authoritarian governments increasingly combine sophisticated digital surveillance with artificial intelligence, while democratic governments are also rapidly adopting AI for policing, border control, and public administration. How can constitutional democracies harness AI’s administrative potential without gradually normalizing technologies of surveillance and executive concentration that undermine liberal constitutionalism?

Professor Danielle Allen: That’s a great question. I think we’re at a point where we need a formally articulated bill of rights against the powers of AI. In the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries, as nation-states were consolidating their power, people articulated bills of rights. In the US case, we have the first ten amendments to the Constitution: rights to association, rights to expression, freedom from search and seizure without warrants, rights to trial by jury, and so forth.

All of those rights apply to the AI universe, but it is worth taking the time to elaborate on what is required to ensure that they are protected under the surveillance conditions made possible by AI. That’s a project for legal scholars—to spell out, at meaningful length, what those requirements are.

I do think the GDPR was a good model for extending those rights protections into the environment of digital data and the like. We need to keep building that edifice of crystal-clear legal protections and limitations. Again, some of the lawsuits right now against Anthropic and others, for example, for stealing authors’ works, are really important. We already have this rights-based framework, and with more investment of time and effort, we could use it much more comprehensively to cover the world of generative AI.

Generative AI Is Going to Accelerate the Capacity of Everything

AI
Photo: Dreamstime.

Recent years have witnessed growing interaction between transnational populist movements, digital platforms, and algorithmically amplified political narratives. Do you believe generative AI is likely to accelerate the emergence of increasingly coordinated transnational populist ecosystems that operate beyond the regulatory capacity of individual democratic states?

Professor Danielle Allen: Generative AI is going to accelerate the capacity of everything. It will also accelerate the capacity of pro-democracy transnational networks to operate across borders. In that regard, it only changes the balance of power if only the populists use it.

The First Thing We Need Is Functional Democratic Governance

Much current AI regulation emphasizes safety, content moderation, transparency, and risk mitigation. Yet your work argues that these approaches address symptoms rather than underlying distributions of power. What institutional reforms would be necessary if democratic governments were to regulate AI according to constitutional principles instead of primarily technological ones?

Professor Danielle Allen: The two major things we need in the US are to get rid of corruption and restore suffrage. We have experienced an incredible erosion of voting rights in the US. Those two things—corruption, by which I mean the impact of money in our politics, and the erosion of voting rights—mean that our institutions have been captured by small oligarchic minorities pursuing their own financial interests through cronyist arrangements with tech companies.

So, when people ask that question, what they’re often wondering is, “Okay, what’s the specific regulation that you need to rein in a tech company?” What I want to say is that that’s actually operating at the wrong level. The first thing you need is functional democratic governance, where power actually lies with the people. Then the people will be able to apply regulations to tech companies. 

We can devise all kinds of regulations—that’s not really the problem. The problem is whether power actually lies with the people or with the people who are in bed with the tech companies. Right now, it lies with people who are in bed with tech companies. That’s why we need fundamental reforms in the basic operations of democracy in the US to change that balance of power.

Digital Competence Matters More Than Digital Literacy

Your broader scholarship consistently emphasizes citizenship, civic identity, democratic participation, and shared constitutional purpose. In an era increasingly mediated by AI-generated information, how should democratic education evolve to prepare citizens not merely to detect misinformation but to sustain democratic judgment itself?

Professor Danielle Allen: That’s a great question. There are a lot of important pieces there. I think highly of the work of Audrey Tong in Taiwan, who argues for an education in digital competence, not just digital literacy but competence. Again, if you know how to use the tools, you’re going to inoculate yourself against being abused by people who are using them.

So that’s one thing. But, to your point about judgment, cultivating the capacity for judgment is key. That means being able to—and here I’m drawing on some work by somebody named Scott Warren—to provide accurate accounts of what people who disagree with you think and why they think it. In other words, you have to train yourself out of your own silo in order to gain access to the full picture of what people are experiencing. One way to do that is by testing whether or not you can render the best version of your opponent’s argument. That’s a very basic skill, but it is no longer very common in our systems of instruction and education.

The work of judgment also requires understanding how to relate values and principles to empirical realities. To develop those skills, you actually have to spend time thinking about values. What are your values? Where do they come from? What are their sources? How do you justify them? What are other people’s values? How do they interact with each other? The work of connecting a values-based diagnosis to a values-based solution is also a learnable skill. So, those would be three things that I would point to as important to have inside our educational offerings.

We Should Deploy Technology to Elevate Human Judgment

Finally, stepping back from current technological developments, do you believe liberal democracy is entering a constitutional transformation comparable to those produced by the printing press, industrialization, or mass broadcasting? Looking ahead, what institutional innovations will be most essential if democratic societies are to ensure that artificial intelligence strengthens rather than weakens constitutional government, political equality, and democratic self-rule?

Professor Danielle Allen: Yes, I do think we are entering another period of major constitutional transformation of that kind. I wish I could give you a list of specific changes that will help us get where we want to go, but fundamentally, we need changes that strengthen human judgment. That runs a bit against the current at a moment when so much is eroding and replacing human judgment. That’s why I advocate various election system reforms in the US, because they would strengthen human judgment.

I also think there are many ways of deploying technology to elevate human judgment rather than denigrate it. AI sensemaking tools such as Polis and vTaiwan, which are deliberative democracy tools, use natural language to allow people to express themselves in their own words, while helping to bring the themes that people have generated to the surface and making us more visible to one another. Things like this can actually help strengthen human judgment.

The hard question, which I appreciate you’re asking, is this: How do we evaluate whether a technology is strengthening human judgment or weakening it? That seems to me to be one of the criteria we need to bake into our assessments of new models, new tools, and the other technologies that emerge into the world.

Dr. Hanna Folsz.

Dr. Folsz: Even Deeply Entrenched Competitive Authoritarian Regimes Have Vulnerabilities

For years, Hungary stood as the defining case of democratic backsliding within the European Union. Yet the 2026 election has transformed it into an equally important case of democratic recovery. In this timely interview, Dr. Hanna Folsz discusses why Hungary’s political transformation challenges prevailing assumptions about the durability of competitive authoritarianism. Drawing on her recent Journal of Democracy article, she argues that authoritarian institutional engineering ultimately remains vulnerable when broad civic mobilization, credible political leadership, and innovative opposition strategies converge. The conversation explores the underestimated role of civil society, the limits of media capture and economic coercion, the challenges of rebuilding democratic institutions, and the broader lessons Hungary offers for scholars and practitioners seeking to understand democratic resilience and authoritarian reversal in the twenty-first century.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

For more than a decade, Hungary occupied a unique place in the comparative study of democratic backsliding. Under Viktor Orbán and Fidesz, it became widely regarded as the paradigmatic example of competitive authoritarianism within the European Union—a political system in which elections continued to exist but were increasingly distorted by constitutional engineering, media capture, economic coercion, and the systematic weakening of institutional checks and balances. Consequently, Hungary became not merely a national case but an international reference point for understanding how democracies erode from within.

Yet Hungary’s 2026 election has fundamentally altered that conversation. The defeat of Fidesz after sixteen years in power has transformed the country into one of the most consequential contemporary cases of democratic recovery. In her recent Journal of Democracy article, How Civil Society Defeated OrbánDr. Hanna Folsz —an Academy Scholar at Harvard University’s Weatherhead Center for International Affairs, where she will begin her appointment in August 2026 before joining IE University in Madrid as Assistant Professor of Political Science in 2027— argues that this democratic breakthrough cannot be explained solely by leadership change or electoral dynamics. Instead, she offers a broader theoretical argument about the hidden vulnerabilities of competitive authoritarian regimes and the underestimated capacity of civil society to reverse authoritarian consolidation.

As Dr. Folsz observes, “Even deeply entrenched competitive authoritarian regimes have vulnerabilities.” While Hungary experienced what she describes as “one of the most extensive and severe episodes of de-democratization or authoritarian consolidation in recent decades,” the very institutions and strategies that sustained Fidesz ultimately proved insufficient to guarantee permanent rule. Institutional engineering, media dominance, financial asymmetries, and intimidation undoubtedly raised the costs of political competition, yet they could not indefinitely substitute for declining public legitimacy. As she argues, “these authoritarian strategies do not guarantee lasting—everlasting—popularity or staying in office.”

A central contribution of Dr. Folsz’s research is her reassessment of the role of civil society. Rather than attributing the opposition’s victory primarily to the emergence of the Tisza Party or the leadership of Péter Magyar, she demonstrates how more than 2,500 decentralized “Tisza Islands” transformed latent civic capacity into effective political organization. In her words, “The role of civil society… is absolutely underestimated,” while “broad civic mobilization, new and fresh opposition challengers… and a credible alternative to voters are definitely a path to democratic reversal.”

In this interview, Dr. Folsz examines the mechanisms that enabled Hungary’s democratic breakthrough and explores their broader implications for comparative politics. She discusses the hidden effects of economic coercion, the limits of media capture, the importance of credible political leadership, and the challenges of democratic restoration after authoritarian rule. She also reflects on the responsibilities facing Hungary’s new government, emphasizing that electoral victory is only the beginning: “Changing governments is definitely only a precondition for democratic recovery.” Together, these insights offer an important contribution to ongoing debates on populism, democratic resilience, competitive authoritarianism, and the conditions under which entrenched illiberal regimes can ultimately be defeated.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Dr. Hanna Folsz, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Authoritarian Strategies Do Not Guarantee Permanent Rule

Hungarian government’s anti-immigration billboard says “STOP the refugees” in Budapest, Hungary on April 4, 2018.

Dr. Folsz, welcome! Let me begin with our first question. For more than a decade, Hungary was widely regarded as the paradigmatic case of democratic backsliding and competitive authoritarianism. Yet your recent Journal of Democracy article argues that the 2026 election also represents one of the most significant democratic reversals of authoritarian consolidation in recent years. How should we interpret the Hungarian election in comparative perspective? Does it represent an exceptional case, or does it reveal broader vulnerabilities inherent in contemporary competitive authoritarian regimes?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: The Hungarian case represents a combination of factors that disadvantage opposition parties or make opposition electoral victory exceedingly difficult. It is definitely an example of—maybe one of the most extensive and severe episodes of de-democratization or authoritarian consolidation in recent decades. Nevertheless, the Hungarian case also represents many of the common factors, or common difficulties, that oppositions experience and the strategies that aspiring authoritarians employ to entrench their rule.

No wonder Hungary serves as a preliminary case, an example for aspiring autocrats worldwide. Fidesz’s dominance in the media, the extensive financial advantage that it enjoyed—or made sure it enjoyed—compared to opposition parties and independent civil society, the severe disadvantages faced by the opposition in the electoral system, as well as the fear of opposition participation due to the repercussions, are all factors that are present in other cases as well.

It was the length of Fidesz rule that made these impediments especially significant, but it also showed that these authoritarian strategies do not guarantee lasting—everlasting—popularity or staying in office. And the lessons it offers are a set of lessons for other cases. Of course, these have to be adapted to context, but the Hungarian case shows that there are vulnerabilities to be exploited, that broad civic mobilization, new and fresh opposition challengers who understand the regime and its vulnerabilities and exploit them, and who present a credible alternative to voters, are definitely a path to democratic reversal. But I’m excited to delve more into the details of this throughout this interview.

The Role of Civil Society in Democratic Change Has Been Profoundly Underestimated

One of your central arguments is that the decisive innovation was not simply the emergence of the Tisza Party, but the rapid development of the decentralized network of Tisza Islands. Why were these semi-autonomous civic organizations able to succeed where traditional opposition parties repeatedly failed? More broadly, does this suggest that democratic resistance in authoritarian settings increasingly depends on civil society rather than party organizations?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: In my article, I make the argument that existing commentary and interpretations of the opposition’s recent electoral victory in Hungary pay a lot of attention to the emergence of the Tisza Party and its novelty, the charisma and skills of its leader, as well as the broader discontent with Fidesz rule after many years of economic stagnation that, in part, could be accounted for by the suspension of EU funds, as well as by extreme corruption and authoritarian overreach by Fidesz.

I argue that this is not the full story. To understand the opposition’s victory, we must take into account the extensive and unprecedented civic mobilization that occurred in Hungary around this election. In my article, I show that Tisza Islands—these semi-autonomous civic groups, small civic groups of at most 50 participants each—emerged across the country. Over 2,500 of these existed by the election. Within a span of a year and a half, they came to dominate civic and public life in Hungary.

They played an essential role in structuring political life, providing political information in their communities, and demonstrating the credibility of the party and the opposition as an alternative through highly visible activities, including extensive volunteering and local charity work that showed the opposition movement cared about the experiences and difficulties of everyday Hungarians. They also provided, basically, the campaign infrastructure for the Tisza Party throughout the election.

The party had very little money, very limited financial resources, in large part due to Fidesz’s actions and changes to party funding, as well as simply being a very new party. This meant that it did not have the resources for the kind of classic electoral campaign that we expect from political parties in democracies most of the time—one funded by donations or state funds, especially in Europe, and relying on an extensive party infrastructure, local offices, and so on. Instead, these Islands stepped up. They basically provided the campaign activists and even the financial resources for the campaign. That played an absolutely crucial role in Tisza’s eventual victory.

What this shows is that there are specific vulnerabilities, difficulties, and challenges for opposition parties in autocratizing and competitive authoritarian contexts. These include financial disadvantage, an absolute information disadvantage under an incumbent-controlled media infrastructure, and the total—or almost total—de-mobilization of the activist base and opposition voters who have become disillusioned with politics and opposition parties. This was definitely the situation Hungary found itself in in 2026, and it showed that the usual avenues for political change were no longer possible.

This is when we saw the very innovative collaboration between the Tisza Party and civil society through the Tisza Islands—these semi-autonomous groups that were only loosely connected to the party. This points to the fact that the role of civil society, the role we expect civil society to play, is absolutely underestimated. Parties will still be crucial, but we need to think about these innovative solutions and about how the strengths of civil society, the often-latent strengths of civil society, can be channeled into electoral competition.

Changing Governments Is Only a Precondition for Democratic Recovery

Tisza leader Péter Magyar
Tisza leader Péter Magyar begins a symbolic “one million steps” march to Nagyvárad, Romania, addressing reporters with supporters in Budapest, Hungary on May 14, 2025. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.

For sixteen years, Viktor Orbán systematically weakened constitutional constraints, reshaped electoral institutions, captured much of the media, and subordinated state institutions to partisan control. Which of these legacies do you regard as the most difficult to reverse? Is democratic recovery primarily about changing governments, or about rebuilding institutions that have been deliberately hollowed out?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: Changing governments is definitely only a precondition for democratic recovery. Democratic recovery cannot be achieved without rebuilding resilient democratic institutions and norms. And this is where the main challenge in Hungary lies today.

In Hungarian case, Fidesz was voted out of office. The electoral threat that Fidesz currently represents to the Tisza Party is very low. So, it seems that we do not have to be extensively afraid of Fidesz returning to power in four years. The bigger challenge, rather, is for the Tisza Party to effectively restore democratic institutions and norms while exercising self-restraint in the process.

We have seen them begin to address this challenge very early on with a great deal of energy, which has been very encouraging for many commentators and observers. Their first constitutional amendment was recently passed. They are taking steps to remove the previous president and are also beginning to hold Fidesz-affiliated elites accountable through judicial proceedings and investigations into corruption and other authoritarian transgressions.

We also know that they will begin the constitutional process of writing a new constitution. There is also a new head of the state media who has already been appointed to oversee the transition to a more pluralistic and more independent media environment.

The biggest challenge is to make sure that there are professional and lastingly independent checks and balances across all of these spheres. Tisza has an unprecedented mandate because it achieved a two-thirds parliamentary majority in the election. That means it can amend the constitution. There are basically very few, if any, institutional restraints on how it exercises its power.

So, what we want to see is that, across all these spheres—the judiciary, the media, and state institutions—they install not necessarily party loyalists but rather truly independent actors, and that they respect their independence and decisions, even when those decisions go counter to Tisza’s goals or electoral preferences in terms of ensuring its electoral support.

Hungary Shows That Pro-Democracy Civic Energy Is Easier to Mobilize Than We Assumed

Your research highlights the importance of latent civic capacity that survives even under prolonged authoritarian pressure. What does Hungary teach us about democratic resilience? Can civil society preserve democratic norms even when formal institutions have been substantially weakened?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: The Hungarian case definitely shows me, in a striking way, that civic capacity is latent rather than absent in cases such as Hungary. This is something I highlight in my article as well, because we have a very strong assumption in political science research and in public debates about democratic resilience and resistance to authoritarian pressure.

The assumption is that if we have an institutionally weak civil society, then effective democratic resistance is very difficult. It’s sort of a precondition for democratic resistance that there are existing civil society actors that can serve as a check, hold the government accountable, organize resistance, organize protests, and restructure public opinion around resistance. When this is missing, we assume that democratic reversals are much more difficult.

They are indeed more difficult. But the Hungarian case absolutely shows that it is much easier to bring pro-democracy civic capacity to the surface than we assumed. In Hungary, the Tisza Islands provided a loose organizational frame, and the Tisza Party provided the Tisza Islands with a purpose and a potential for democratic change that mobilized the population across the country, in localities and municipalities both big and small.

This points to a case for some positivity, some optimism, as well as a call for innovative approaches and a better understanding of citizens’ motivations, because political scientists, as well as pundits, assumed that such mobilization would not be possible and were taken by surprise by its scale and effectiveness.

If we take the opportunity and make the effort to talk to citizens more, understand their relationship with this regime, and recognize that there is this latent discontent that may not be expressed for fear of repercussions, but also because of a lack of hope that things could change, and if we can understand how citizens react to the provision of a credible alternative, to hope embodied in an opposition movement, then this might not take us by surprise. We might instead focus a little more on developing these innovative civic approaches in our attempts to achieve democratic reversals.

Economic Coercion Is One of the Most Overlooked Tools of Authoritarian Control

Former Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban.

In your broader research, you argue that economic retaliation constitutes one of the most overlooked mechanisms through which aspiring autocrats weaken political competition by deterring talented opposition candidates. How central was economic coercion to Orbán’s durability, and how much did overcoming fear of retaliation contribute to the opposition’s eventual breakthrough?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: One of the focuses of my research is the authoritarian strategy that I term economic coercion. I argue in one of my papers that this is a core strategy of authoritarian consolidation and control that we tend to overlook because we focus on the physical acts of repression that these regimes carry out, be it arresting opposition politicians and activists or banning opposition parties, et cetera.

But economic coercion is another crucial strategy. I define it as a credible threat of economic retaliation for opposition political activity. This means that not just opposition candidates, but activists or those who express public support for the opposition, they themselves or their family members, might face economic difficulties as a result.

Its employment-oriented form—one of its forms—carries the potential for employment loss, dismissals from jobs in the public sector, the state sector, or in regime-adjacent businesses. Its enterprise-oriented form focuses on retaliation against business owners and firms. If you participate in opposition politics, for instance as a candidate, or if you participated in Hungary during the Orbán period, you could very well expect that your firm would be subject to targeted tax audits, targeted tax penalties, or other forms of retaliation—basically, the denial of state contracts and grants that your firm might have previously received, as well as the turning away of suppliers and other businesses that were themselves afraid of retaliation for their association with the opposition.

This was an absolutely pervasive, indeed a defining, characteristic of the Hungarian regime and a major impediment for opposition parties. My interviews with opposition politicians, together with a survey that I conducted among opposition local politicians, pointed to this pervasive fear of retaliation and Fidesz’s media dominance as the two central reasons opposition politicians identified for their parties’—or their political side’s—weakness.

There are many examples of this. I talked to a number of opposition politicians who themselves were fired from their jobs. Or, for instance, if they had a partner who was a teacher, that partner was fired, and their businesses suffered extensive retaliation. But I also heard many stories of opposition activists being too afraid to put their face, appear in photos—for fear that they would face retaliation, to register as an activist for the party, or even to become a party member.

There are countless examples that opposition politicians would tell me. They would set up stalls for campaigns or for collecting signatures for different causes, and even acquaintances whom they knew very well in their private lives would be too afraid to look at them while they were out on the streets, for fear that their employer or their neighbor might see them, and that word would then spread through their social circle that they supported the opposition.

This presented a huge difficulty for parties, both in mobilizing activists for strong campaigns and in finding good candidates for electoral office. The Tisza Party actually faced many of these same challenges.

Conversations with lawyers at the Hungarian Helsinki Committee, one of the main civil liberties protection organizations in Hungary, revealed that the number of cases of retaliatory firings, or proprietary retaliatory actions, that they encountered and were approached with actually increased significantly in the years following the emergence of the Tisza Party. My conversations and interviews with Tisza politicians themselves also revealed a staggering rate of such retaliation among their activist bases.

The way they overcame this is very remarkable and offers many important lessons. One of the most important strategies they employed was the Tisza Islands themselves, which provided a very low-visibility form of activism. Many activists I talked to in these Tisza Islands told me that they and their fellow activists could choose the level and form of activism they were comfortable with, depending on the degree of visibility. The lack of overt—or direct—association with the party also allowed them to evade some of the strongest retaliatory actions that we had previously come across.

Another important way in which the Tisza Islands contributed to mitigating the effects of retaliation was simply by affording the opposition greater visibility. This provided examples of courage and also evidence of the scale of retaliation, because fear of it often outstrips its actual occurrence.

Finally, Tisza started polling above Fidesz roughly a year and a half before the election, which was also very important because fear of economic retaliation operates on an assumption of future enforcement. If the opposition begins polling ahead of the governing party for such an extended period of time, there is at least some expectation that the governing party may lose the election, in which case retaliation will not proceed, or that any retaliation opposition activists or politicians experience will be undone once the new party comes to power.

This was crucial in progressively encouraging participation and lending confidence to the opposition. But it remained a formidable impediment, and it required a great deal of courage from all of the opposition activists I spoke to, as well as from the politicians of the Tisza Party, to stand publicly with the opposition in the way that they did. That is absolutely one of the most commendable actions one could undertake in such a political environment.

When Propaganda Collides with Lived Experience, Its Credibility Begins to Collapse

Fidesz, Soros.
Poster from political party Fidesz showing the opponents of Hungarian PM Viktor Orban surrounding billionaire philanthropist George Soros, Budapest, April 8, 2017.

Hungary has often been cited as perhaps Europe’s most advanced example of media capture. Yet despite overwhelming informational asymmetries, the opposition ultimately managed to reach voters. Does this suggest that grassroots civic networks can compensate for authoritarian control of traditional media, or were there broader structural changes—including digital communication—that weakened the effectiveness of media capture?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: These grassroots civic networks played a very important role. There was an almost total lack of access to independent news in many parts of the country, predominantly outside of the larger cities. Almost all news sources were controlled by Fidesz by 2024, around the time of the emergence of the Tisza Party. One of the especially important early functions of the Tisza Islands was simply to provide public spaces for these new, alternative information environments where politics could be discussed.

During their first few months, many of these Tisza Islands focused primarily on inviting outside speakers or holding public discussions, talks with experts, and conversations among activists about the political situation. They identified the most important local issues and explored how Fidesz’s wrongdoing, corruption, authoritarian actions, and mismanagement of the economy and public resources contributed crucially to the local problems and difficulties Hungarians were facing. Through these speaker series, the Tisza Islands allowed people to connect the dots between their local experiences and the broader authoritarian encroachment and entrenchment of Fidesz in the country.

Having these communities in which to discuss politics was also something very new. Many of the activists I interviewed noted that this was the first time they could speak openly about politics without fear and simply discuss political developments among themselves. It created a much better shared understanding of the political situation in the country.

Nevertheless, there were three other factors that were also crucial. Beyond the emergence of these Islands and these local information spaces, the growing importance of the digital sphere was absolutely significant, as was the increasing conflict between people’s personal experiences, their economic hardships, and Fidesz’s narrative of its own successes.

In terms of the digital sphere and social media, we could see by the early 2020s, especially after the COVID pandemic, a very important shift in the way online and non-traditional news sources gained ground. YouTube, podcasts, and other social media platforms became very important sources of news in Hungary. Partizán is one of these networks—the largest podcast and YouTube network for independent news in Hungary. Its videos routinely achieved hundreds of thousands of views in a country of fewer than 10 million people. That’s very significant.

Another important way in which the rise of the digital sphere mattered was how Péter Magyar, current prime minister and the leader of the Tisza Party, exploited and leveraged it masterfully to gain popularity. His campaigns and political activities were always online. We heard from many commentators throughout the election how important it was that Péter Magyar travelled across the country, visiting Hungarian towns and villages, both large and small, after entering Hungarian politics. For two years, he was almost constantly on the ground talking to Hungarian voters.

One of the most important aspects of this, however, was that every single one of his appearances was livestreamed on his social media platforms. This created an almost constant connection with Hungarian voters, made possible by the rise of social media in politics. It further enhanced his credibility by demonstrating how hard he was working and strengthened his direct connection with voters.

Finally, another important reason why Fidesz’s media dominance—and its effectiveness—began to weaken was the increasingly apparent conflict between Hungarians’ lived experiences and Fidesz’s official narrative. Beginning in the early 2020s, and especially after 2022, Hungary experienced significant economic stagnation and record inflation. Inflation averaged around 20 percent in 2022 and remained at a similarly high, though somewhat lower, level in 2023. Food price inflation was particularly severe.

When Hungarians experienced firsthand that they could afford much less than in previous years, while Fidesz continued to emphasize its achievements and the support it was providing through its distributive programmes, this sharply contradicted people’s lived experiences. As a result, the credibility of Fidesz’s propagandistic narrative in the media outlets it controlled declined substantially, and Hungarians increasingly began seeking out alternative sources of news.

Opposition Strategy Matters Just as Much as Authoritarian Strategy

Orbán’s governments demonstrated remarkable sophistication in redesigning electoral rules, constitutional institutions, and oversight bodies without formally abandoning electoral competition. Does Hungary demonstrate that authoritarian institutional engineering eventually reaches diminishing returns, particularly when legitimacy begins to erode?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: Definitely. What the Hungarian case points to with respect to this question is simply that competitive authoritarian regimes still rely on popularity to persist. So, however much electoral rules are redesigned, institutions are amended, and oversight bodies are captured, if unpopularity starts to emerge, if the regime loses its credibility and legitimacy—especially its performance legitimacy—then these institutional changes cannot guarantee that it stays in power.

Nevertheless, there are important caveats. First, the Fidesz regime employed limited physical repression and party bans. That is something we are starting to see in cases such as Turkey, which does not have the constraints of the EU and has shown a willingness to use these tools against the opposition. This can represent much more significant constraints and make it much more difficult for the regime’s unpopularity to translate into electoral change and opposition victory.

The other important caveat is that opposition strategy does matter. Having a broad-appeal electoral strategy and offering a credible alternative that promises competent governance in the interests of the Hungarian people—and can credibly deliver on that promise—is crucial if these governing parties are to start losing elections or even come close to losing them.

Looking, for instance, at the 2022 election in Hungary, where Fidesz actually achieved its strongest performance under its rule, even though the election took place amid record inflation, economic stagnation, extreme corruption, and authoritarian overreach, shows that voters rejected the opposition alternative. There were plenty of reasons to dislike the regime, plenty of reasons to want change, but that change simply did not materialize through the opposition.

Performance Legitimacy Mattered Even More Than Ethno-populist Appeals

Orbán has frequently been analyzed as one of the architects of contemporary right-wing populism, combining majoritarian rhetoric with illiberal constitutionalism. Looking back, to what extent was Fidesz’s success primarily rooted in populism, and to what extent did it evolve into a more conventional authoritarian patronage regime whose survival depended increasingly on state control rather than popular mobilization?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: Fidesz’s populism was important to its staying in power and its ability to consolidate its rule, but it was by far not the only factor that mattered. If anything, performance legitimacy in voters’ eyes was even more important than the populist, ethno-populist appeals that we saw, especially in the second half of Fidesz’s rule.

In terms of Fidesz’s populism, we could definitely see that these radical-right nationalist ethno-populist appeals became very prevalent, especially in the second half of the 2010s. We saw this when immigration became the cornerstone issue for Fidesz, and when this sort of anti-immigration rhetoric became a very powerful tool that allowed it to win the 2018 election with resounding popularity.

But even then, Fidesz’s distributive programs were crucial. A very important element was this kind of regime-to-voter patronage—not just giving resources to a small elite but also providing financial benefits directly to voters so that they saw a financial benefit in their own pockets from supporting the regime. This was very important, and Fidesz very consciously leveraged these strategies.

We saw that when these strategies failed, when the economic gains that people felt they had experienced under Fidesz rule disappeared, Fidesz became less popular. Its deployment of nationalism, its use of this outside-threat narrative, this classic populist narrative, was not enough to ensure that it stayed in power and continued to mobilize its base.

In sum, the transformation of the economy to ensure Fidesz’s continuity in power was very important. These distributive programs directed at voters were crucial. Of course, part of that also involved establishing a political elite, an economic elite that gave Fidesz its economic base—this sort of oligarchic network that supported its control over the media and made sure that economically independent opposition actors had a very difficult time gaining ground.

Those factors were important as well. But populism is just not enough of an explanation.

Hope for Change Required a Credible Political Entrepreneur

Peter Magyar, a popular opposition politician of celebrity status meeting the press at the site of a soccer arena and miniature train station in Viktor Orban’s village in Felcsut, Hungary. on May 24, 2024. Photo: Blue Corner Studio.

Your article emphasizes that civic mobilization required not only existing social networks but also what might be called a credible political entrepreneur in Péter Magyar. How important is leadership in activating dormant democratic capacities? Could similar civic energy have emerged without a figure capable of coordinating and legitimizing it?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: Coordination and the hope of change were absolutely essential to the civic energy that we saw in Hungary, and they had to come from a credible source. They had to come from a credible political entrepreneur or group that promised this. It did not necessarily have to be Péter Magyar, but he is a highly politically skilled politician. He was able to recognize these opportunities, as well as the vulnerabilities of the regime. This was very important in activating the civic energy in the country.

One of the preconditions is simply that there has to be a vision for political change. I think what Péter Magyar did right, why he was important, and why he was able to do this was the energy that voters saw in him as he travelled around the country on his nationwide tours, day after day, rally after rally, meeting after meeting, demonstrating that he took this seriously and that he was able to connect with people. Hearing him speak, hearing him identify the problems with the regime, and also hearing him present some possible solutions was also important.

A strong performance in the 2024 European Parliament election also gave him and his party the ability to have voters’ expectations, or hopes for change, coalesce around them. That was crucial. He emerged at the right time, when there was very strong dissatisfaction with Fidesz but no opposition alternative or opposition option that voters really saw, and he had the skills to fill that role.

But it could have been someone else. It’s obviously very hard to know. What is crucial, however, is the coordinating and legitimizing role that a political entrepreneur provides.

Innovative Civic Mobilization May Be More Transferable Than Hungary’s Institutions

Many scholars have viewed Hungary as the model that inspired democratic erosion elsewhere, from Central Europe to Latin America and even the United States. Do you believe Hungary’s democratic recovery offers transferable lessons for opposition movements confronting competitive authoritarian governments elsewhere, or are Hungary’s political and institutional conditions too distinctive for meaningful comparison?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: I absolutely think that it offers lessons. Of course, if you look at a different case, you will always have to adapt the strategies and adapt the insights to the challenges that the opposition side faces against aspiring autocrats or competitive authoritarian rulers elsewhere. That is natural.

What we need is a very good understanding of the Hungarian case and of what features of the Hungarian case made this possible, and then a good understanding of the other local context to see how this could be adapted. Some notable traits of the Hungarian experience are sometimes potentially underestimated in commentary that uses the Hungarian case as a promise of hope for democratic change elsewhere.

It’s absolutely crucial that Fidesz was in power for 16 years, a very significant amount of time. In a lot of previous cases of reversal, we have seen less consolidated regimes. And there was very strong dissatisfaction with Fidesz by the time the Tisza Party came around, but that could not previously be channeled into electoral politics.

There was also very limited physical repression, so there were no arrests. There were also no party bans, et cetera, as I already mentioned. This is something that means these lessons, especially the lessons around civic mobilization, could be very different and harder to adapt in cases where such repression is very significant.

It is also important to recognize that the level of disadvantage for the opposition was actually more severe in Hungary than in a lot of other cases. This gives us hope for other cases—that if a reversal could happen here, then that can translate elsewhere. But it also might give too much comfort to opposition actors elsewhere, because it might have taken this level of disadvantage for the opposition to use innovations in civic mobilization, and for this new challenger, the Tisza Party, to emerge, and for voters to recognize that the existing opposition parties could not promise the kind of change they hoped for.

The model of this innovative civic mobilization, the model of a new credible challenger emerging that promises meaningful, positive change in Hungarian living conditions, and then promises good governance as well as the rooting out of corruption and democratic restoration, is very important.

We probably cannot get too comfortable. This level of disadvantage that the opposition had in Hungary is actually something that, maybe, shows that we do not need to reach that stage for other countries, for political entrepreneurs and political actors to take on these lessons in other cases. Maybe this avenue, this broad-based appeal that Tisza had, rather than just chipping away at Fidesz supporters or convincing only a few demobilized voters to turn out, is something that can work in other cases. Instead, creating a broad-based movement is something that can work in other cases and can promise much better opportunities for democratic restoration with a strong mandate afterward.

The Greatest Challenge Is Ensuring That the New Government Constrains Itself

A central feature of democratic backsliding in Hungary involved the gradual weakening of judicial independence and constitutional oversight. Following the recent constitutional reforms initiated by the new government, what principles should guide efforts to restore judicial autonomy without creating the perception that one form of politicization is simply replacing another?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: This is a very important challenge in Hungary right now. As I already mentioned, the Tisza Party entered office with an unprecedented mandate. It holds a two-thirds majority in parliament, which in Hungary permits constitutional amendments and essentially allows the party to unilaterally amend the constitution. There is no need for the support of the new opposition parties in parliament, and this gives Tisza extensive control over institutional reform.

They have already used this power, and they have promised to use it further in relation to the judicial system. A constitutional amendment was just approved on July 13 by the Hungarian parliament that restored a mandatory retirement age of 70 for Constitutional Court judges. This involves four of the 15 judges losing their mandates, including the president of the Constitutional Court, who was a very important Orbán appointee.

They have also promised to implement changes to the selection rules for the presidents of various judicial bodies. For instance, these changes would involve judges choosing or proposing candidates instead of the president independently selecting a nominee. But ultimately, all of these changes would still rest on ratification by a two-thirds majority in parliament. So they would still give Tisza the opportunity to make the final choice.

We see many positive changes that could introduce more independent rules and restore a more independent judicial sector in Hungary. But it is very important that the party exercises self-restraint and is potentially even braver and more resolute in making changes that constrain the Tisza Party itself.

Because even some of these proposed rules—for instance, leaving the appointment of the presidents of various judicial bodies to a two-thirds parliamentary majority—would still give the party essentially full discretion, or at least a very high degree of discretion, over who these officeholders are going to be. The biggest challenge is making sure that Tisza actually constrains itself and establishes a genuine separation of the judiciary from the executive branch and, to some degree, from the legislative branch through these reforms, thereby binding both itself and its successors. Whether Tisza ultimately carries out these changes that may also be politically uncomfortable for itself absolutely remains to be seen.

Democratic Restoration Must Never Become Political Retribution

The new government has promised to dismantle what it describes as the “Orbán system” while introducing sweeping constitutional reforms and anti-corruption measures. How can democratic governments dismantle authoritarian legacies without themselves appearing to engage in victor’s justice or constitutional overreach? Where should democratic restoration end and political retribution begin?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: This is a key challenge of democratic restoration and democratic restoration efforts. Ensuring that these efforts proceed in a rule-of-law-abiding manner is often very difficult, as we have seen, for instance, in Poland, and it is something that inevitably draws a great deal of public attention.

In Hungary, this challenge is also present. There is an exceptionally high degree of public legitimacy for dismantling the Fidesz system and holding Fidesz politicians and its oligarchic elite accountable for their wrongdoing and their actions against the national interest. Fidesz currently enjoys at most 20 percent support in the polls in Hungary, which is exceedingly low. We have also seen an absolute exodus of voters from the Fidesz camp, even after the party lost the election.

There is a clear public mandate. But this process of accountability should be pursued in a very careful manner. The most important thing, so far, is that Tisza is at least promising to pursue it through judicial channels. They have also emphasized that this will likely be a lengthy process.

That said, I do see two dangers. The first is that abandoning the judicial route could become a temptation, and that would absolutely undermine the legitimacy of dismantling the Orbán system in the eyes of many. I think it should, because democratic self-restraint is something this party has to practice and demonstrate if it wants to reintroduce it into Hungarian politics.

I also see another danger. To me, it is the possibility that Tisza may not allow Fidesz to be evaluated again by Hungarian voters as a political alternative in the full sense that we should expect in a democratic system.

For instance, Tisza’s recent proposal for a constitutional amendment introduced a 12-year term limit for MPs in Hungary that would apply retroactively. This follows the adoption of an eight-year limit for prime ministers, also applied retroactively, which many interpreted partly as satisfying voters’ demands that Orbán should not be able to return to power, while also serving as an act of self-restraint by Tisza.

That measure has enjoyed broad public support in Hungary, at least for now. But the proposed 12-year limit for MPs has generated much more public debate. Its retroactive application means that most of the high-profile Fidesz leaders we have seen in recent years would likely be unable to run for office again if this rule actually enters the Constitution.

To me, this does not give voters the opportunity to reject Fidesz themselves, which, in all likelihood, we think they would actually do at the polls in the next election. Instead, it appears more like a measure of retribution than one that serves the restoration of healthy democratic competition.

Lasting Democratic Trust Depends on Meaningful Citizen Participation

Supporters of the TISZA Party gather on Andrássy Avenue in Budapest during a national march led by Péter Magyar on Hungary’s March 15 national holiday, March 15, 2026. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.

Years of polarization, clientelism, and institutional capture often leave citizens deeply distrustful of politics itself. Beyond constitutional reforms, what strategies are necessary for rebuilding citizens’ confidence that democratic institutions can once again operate impartially and effectively?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: What is very interesting about the Hungarian case, and what is very closely related to the civic mobilization that we saw ahead of the election, is that there is an unprecedentedly broad interest in, and enthusiasm for, politics and following politics in Hungary, even after the election. That is very promising. The disaffection that we saw over more than a decade of Fidesz rule appears to have been reversed during this election and seems to persist even afterward.

But in many ways, there is still distrust of Tisza among many voters. Of course, the country’s experience over the past decade and a half has been one of politicians abusing public authority and public office for authoritarian entrenchment and private gain through corruption. There is, understandably, concern among Hungarian voters that any party—especially one with such a large mandate—could eventually fall victim to the same dynamics.

The more immediate concern is whether these participatory channels, this broad-based participation represented by the Tisza Islands and these activist groups, will continue to feed into politics itself or instead be discarded. Because maintaining them could build trust and strengthen the connection between citizens and politics.

Tisza has promised to institutionalize such participatory mechanisms. They are currently setting up the Institution for Functioning in Humane Hungary, which they describe as an institution for strengthening popular participation in politics through consultation with professionals, former civil society actors, as well as voters on proposed constitutional amendments, new public policies, and broader forms of public and civic involvement.

This is very promising, but it has not happened yet. We do not yet know exactly what it will look like. The party has asked voters and its activists for patience while it develops ways to channel this civic energy into politics and effective public policymaking in Hungary.

This is one of the most important questions that remains to be answered. The party can reasonably be granted some patience, especially as it is working very hard to meet the conditionalities required for EU funds to be restored to Hungary by the end of the summer. But after that, if this vision of popular participation in governance does not begin to materialize, some degree of public pressure would be very beneficial.

The EU Should Have Acted Earlier and More Decisively

Ursula von der Leyen, President of the European Commission arrives for a EU Summit, at the EU headquarters in Brussels, on June 30, 2023. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.

The European Union has frequently been criticized both for responding too slowly to Hungary’s democratic backsliding and for possessing limited enforcement tools. Looking retrospectively, what lessons should European institutions draw from the Hungarian experience regarding the defense of liberal democracy among member and candidate countries?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: There’s been a great deal of excellent research, including by R. Daniel Kelemen, on the role that the EU played through its lack of action against Hungary, and at times even its support for Hungary and Viktor Orbán, in failing to become an effective obstacle to authoritarian entrenchment. Kelemen’s research shows that European party politics in the European Parliament plays a very important role. There were incentives within the European People’s Party (EPP) to support Orbán despite his authoritarian transgressions, in order to advance the EPP’s broader political objectives within the EU. That points to an important lesson: party politics within the European Union cannot be allowed to impede efforts to stop authoritarian entrenchment in an EU member state.

There have to be clear red lines. There have to be cordons sanitaires around far-right parties within the EU. We have already seen some steps in this direction. But the other important lesson—and perhaps the more important one—is that the EU should act more quickly and be more willing to invoke the conditionality of EU funding.

A large share of EU funding to Hungary was suspended in 2022, and that was one of the key reasons for the weakening of Fidesz’s support. It contributed significantly to the lack of infrastructure investment, the slowdown in economic dynamism, and the broader economic stagnation and difficulties that Hungary experienced over the past four years, all of which substantially increased public dissatisfaction.

Conditionality is a very powerful tool, and it is a legitimate one. Invoking conditionality in determining access to EU funding is entirely legitimate, and it should be used in cases such as this.

Where Violent Repression Is Limited, Peaceful Democratic Change Remains Possible

Some scholars have argued that competitive authoritarian regimes are inherently unstable because they continue to rely on elections for legitimacy, while others view them as remarkably durable hybrid systems. Has the Hungarian case altered your own understanding of the long-term resilience—or fragility—of competitive authoritarian regimes?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: For one, 16 years of Fidesz rule in Hungary is a remarkably long time. Even if the regime ultimately proved vulnerable to an electoral challenge, it still represented an unprecedented period of authoritarian rule within the European Union that we must take seriously. The fact that an authoritarian regime could emerge under the conditions that it did in Hungary is, in itself, an absolute testament to the power of these authoritarian movements.

Nevertheless, the main lesson is that these regimes, and their continuity, ultimately rest on popularity. It requires a much greater shift of voters away from the regime than in democracies for that to translate into an opposition electoral victory. But there is hope. There is real potential for that to happen. Civic mobilization and the electoral mobilization of voters behind the opposition are what can ultimately bring these regimes to an end. As long as there is limited capacity and infrastructure for violent repression, there remains the possibility of a peaceful transfer of power.

The Hungarian case shows that this middle ground of competitive authoritarian regimes—those that resort only limitedly to physical repression, banning opposition parties, and the kinds of tools that we see in some other contexts—is ultimately fragile. These regimes are vulnerable to a sustained loss of electoral popularity.

Defeating Authoritarianism Requires Strategies Beyond Those of Ordinary Democracies

Finally, Hungary has demonstrated both how democracies can gradually erode and how authoritarian incumbents can eventually be defeated electorally. Yet democratic recovery is often considerably more difficult than democratic decline. Looking ahead, what will determine whether Hungary becomes a lasting example of democratic renewal rather than merely another episode of political alternation? And what broader lessons should scholars of populism, democratic resilience, and authoritarianism take from Hungary’s extraordinary political trajectory?

Dr. Hanna Folsz: In terms of what Hungary will ultimately become an example of, I certainly hope that it will be a lasting example of democratic renewal. But that depends on several conditions. For one, it is important that we see self-restraint from the Tisza Party. Somewhat unfortunately, this is a situation in which we have to rely on self-restraint by the governing party because of its extraordinary political mandate.

But I also think it is crucial that we see the emergence of political alternatives to the Tisza Party in the coming years in Hungary. Entering the 2030 election with the Tisza Party facing only a very weakened Fidesz as its main opposition would be very disadvantageous for Hungarian politics if Fidesz continues to weaken in the way it has over the past couple of months.

It’s very hard to see that providing an incentive for voters to evaluate the Tisza Party against the strong benchmark that we would like to see in a democracy. There is also, for now, no real political alternative to Tisza on the left or liberal side in Hungary. We effectively have a political system with three right-wing parties. Tisza is currently very much a moderate party, but nevertheless its two challengers are on the right. Mi Hazánk, the third party in parliament, is a far-right party.

If this situation persists, it is difficult to see how voters could exercise meaningful democratic choice in the 2030 election. To me, that is very important for a successful democratic recovery. It would also place healthy pressure on Tisza, so that we do not have to rely solely on self-restraint by the party and on extra-parliamentary, extra-electoral mobilization to encourage Tisza to help Hungary achieve a strong democratic renewal.

In terms of the broader lessons from the Hungarian case and Hungary’s extraordinary political trajectory, I see a couple of important lessons that focus on the opposition and on opposition to authoritarian incumbents.

Very often, when we think about these regimes and the reasons for their popularity, we focus on the authoritarian strategies that governing parties employ. We examine institutional manipulation, authoritarian entrenchment, media capture, the capture of civil society, economic coercion, as well as ethnopopulist and distributive appeals to voters, together with voters’ willingness to tolerate these transgressions. But we also need to think seriously about the role that the availability of opposition and credible alternatives plays in allowing such regimes to survive and preventing a democratic alternative from emerging. Hungary shows that the combination of a new political party and a broad-based civic movement built around semi-autonomous civic organizations and civic groups can become a powerful vehicle for democratic change.

The Hungarian experience also offers two further lessons. First, it demonstrates that broad-based civic mobilization is possible. We should therefore think much more seriously about these possibilities and about what kinds of innovations enable opposition movements to overcome the distinctive challenges they face under authoritarian incumbents. We may simply need to be much more inventive.

Second, we cannot continue to operate under assumptions about democratic competition that are derived from established democracies when we are dealing with authoritarian contexts. The rules of the game are fundamentally different. Accordingly, the strategies that opposition movements must employ in these settings are also likely to be fundamentally different from those that work in democracies.

Associate Professor Laura Gamboa

Assoc. Prof. Gamboa: By the Time the Authoritarian Threat Becomes Evident, It’s Usually Too Late

Drawing on comparative evidence from Colombia, Venezuela, Guatemala, Mexico, and beyond, Associate Professor Laura Gamboa offers a compelling rethinking of democratic resilience in an age of gradual authoritarianism. Rather than viewing democratic backsliding solely through the ambitions of would-be autocrats, she demonstrates that democratic survival depends equally on the strategic choices of opposition parties, constitutional courts, and civil society. Reflecting on Colombia’s 2026 presidential election, Assoc. Prof. Gamboa argues that the results present “a mixed story,” simultaneously revealing institutional resilience and new democratic vulnerabilities. She warns that contemporary authoritarianism advances incrementally—often becoming visible only when “it’s usually too late”—while urging democratic actors to address citizens’ grievances, strengthen institutional legitimacy, reduce polarization, and defend constitutional democracy without abandoning democratic principles.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The contemporary crisis of democracy rarely unfolds through dramatic coups or sudden constitutional collapse. Instead, democratic erosion increasingly advances through legal reforms, institutional manipulation, and the gradual concentration of executive power. This slow-moving process has transformed democratic backsliding into one of the defining political challenges of the twenty-first century, raising urgent questions about how constitutional democracies can defend themselves against elected leaders who weaken democratic institutions from within. Few scholars have contributed more to answering these questions than Associate Professor Laura Gamboa of the University of Notre Dame, whose work has fundamentally reshaped our understanding of democratic resilience.

Unlike much of the earlier literature, which focused primarily on aspiring autocrats, Assoc. Prof. Gamboa redirects attention to the democratic opposition itself. In Resisting Backsliding: Opposition Strategies against the Erosion of Democracy and New Forms of Democratic Erosion in Latin America, she argues that democratic survival depends not only on the ambitions of authoritarian leaders but also on the strategic choices of opposition parties, constitutional courts, legislatures, and civil society. By shifting the analytical focus from autocrats to democratic resistance, her scholarship offers one of the most original frameworks for explaining why some democracies withstand authoritarian pressures while others gradually succumb.

The timing of this interview is especially significant. Colombia’s 2026 presidential election has reignited debates about democratic accountability, populism, institutional resilience, and constitutional government across Latin America. While many observers interpreted the election as a straightforward ideological shift to the political right, Assoc. Prof. Gamboa argues that “the 2026 elections give us a mixed story.” She highlights both the resilience of Colombia’s democratic institutions and troubling warning signs, emphasizing that “both the candidate who won the election and the president’s unwillingness to recognize the election results are not good news for democracy.” Her assessment reminds us that electoral alternation alone neither guarantees democratic renewal nor necessarily signals democratic decline.

A recurring theme throughout the interview is the changing nature of authoritarianism. Contemporary autocrats rarely destroy democracy overnight. Instead, they rely on constitutional reforms, elections, plebiscites, and legal mechanisms to weaken liberal democracy incrementally. As Assoc. Prof. Gamboa warns, “by the time the threat becomes evident, it’s usually too late.” Because democratic erosion often proceeds under the appearance of constitutional legality, recognizing the danger of autocratization before institutions are fundamentally weakened has become increasingly difficult.

The interview also challenges conventional assumptions about populism. Rather than treating it as inherently incompatible with democracy, Assoc. Prof. Gamboa describes populism as “a double-sided coin,” capable of expanding political inclusion while simultaneously encouraging personalistic leadership and executive aggrandizement. Equally important, she argues that democratic oppositions must resist dismissing populist voters. “All of these would-be autocrats come to power because they tap into some kind of discontent,” she explains, emphasizing that democratic forces must address underlying grievances rather than simply condemn their political expression. Ultimately, her message is one of strategic democratic resilience: defend institutions, broaden coalitions, reduce polarization, and remember that “doing politics in a society that is not polarized is significantly easier than doing politics in a society that is polarized.” In an era of democratic uncertainty, Assoc. Prof. Gamboa offers a compelling roadmap for understanding—and resisting—the gradual erosion of constitutional democracy.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Associate Professor Laura Gamboa, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Colombia’s 2026 Elections Give Us a Mixed Story

President-elect Abelardo de la Espriella and Vice President-elect Jose Manuel Restrepo.
Credential-giving ceremony to President-elect Abelardo de la Espriella and Vice President-elect Jose Manuel Restrepo by the National Electoral Council in Bogota, Colombia on June 25, 2026. Photo: Anamaria Mejía / Dreamstime.

Professor Gamboa, welcome, and let me begin with Colombia’s recent presidential election. This election has been widely interpreted as a decisive shift to the political right following Gustavo Petro’s presidency. Yet throughout your scholarship, you have consistently argued that electoral alternation should not be confused with democratic deterioration or democratic recovery. What do the election results ultimately tell us about the health of Colombian democracy? Should this election be understood primarily as ideological realignment, democratic accountability in action, or as another manifestation of the broader anti-establishment politics reshaping contemporary democracies?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: The 2026 elections give us a mixed story. On the one hand, when Gustavo Petro came to power, many Colombians were very worried that he was going to become “the second Chávez”—that he was not going to step down. And here we are. As far as I can tell, he’s planning to step down. Now, there’s the minor issue of his not recognizing the election results, which I’ll get into in a second. But he is stepping down, and Colombia’s main institutional infrastructure remains intact. Congress and the courts were able to check the president whenever they needed to, while also allowing some of his proposals to move forward. So I think that’s good news.

I also think this has probably been true since 2018, and it became significantly clearer in 2022, but these last four years have been, in many ways, a sort of spring for Colombian politics. For the longest time, Colombian politics revolved around security: How did we deal with the armed conflict? Over these past four years—and certainly during this past election—we’ve been discussing healthcare and pension reform. We’ve also been questioning, for good or for bad—you can agree or disagree with these questions—what used to be regarded as unquestionable macroeconomic orthodoxy, something we simply weren’t supposed to touch. For the first time, these issues have become part of the political conversation, and I think that’s important in any democracy. So I do think that there has been some kind of ideological realignment. We no longer have the simple pro-peace versus anti-peace divide, but rather a much more complicated political landscape in our electoral arena.

That being said, I also think that both the candidate who won the election and the president’s unwillingness to recognize the election results are not good news for democracy. I don’t remember ever seeing a president fail to recognize election results. Our elections are not perfect, by any means, but they’re pretty good. Our electoral system works well, and people generally trust the election results. So I think that’s bad news.

I also think Abelardo de la Espriella, who won the election, is a far-right candidate who ran a campaign based on emotions, outlandish statements, and sweeping proposals. He has claimed that he wants to govern by decree. He has appointed members of his cabinet who are anti-globalists and promoters of conspiracy theories. So I think none of that is good news for democracy.

The Path from Democratic Victory to Democratic Breakdown

Throughout Resisting Backsliding, you caution against equating electoral victories by controversial or populist leaders with democratic breakdown. What analytical criteria should scholars use to distinguish between ordinary democratic alternation, constitutional conflict, and genuine democratic erosion? At what point does vigorous democratic competition become a threat to democracy itself?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: I depart from the principle that, no matter how crazy someone may be, if you win a democratic election—one that is free and fair and won without cheating—you deserve to govern for whatever period the law provides, whether that’s a presidential term or a prime minister’s term. This is true for presidents like Joe Biden, who I believe has a normative preference for democracy. I also think it’s true for Donald Trump, who I really don’t think has a normative preference for democracy.

What I don’t think, however, is that you get to govern like a king. In a democracy, presidents, prime ministers, legislatures, and judiciaries are subject to constitutions and the rule of law. In that regard, authoritarian leaders who try to evade or ignore these constraints are a danger to democracy. That’s when we’re facing genuine threats to democracy.

Between someone being a danger to democracy and someone actually eroding democracy, however, there are two distinct steps. First, there is a person trying; then there is a person succeeding in those attempts. In many ways, we have to think about this sequentially.

Why Democratic Erosion Is Harder to Recognize Than Ever

You argue that twenty-first-century democracies rarely collapse through classic military coups but instead erode gradually through legal and constitutional means. Why has democratic backsliding become such a slow-moving institutional process rather than an abrupt rupture, and does this gradualism paradoxically make contemporary authoritarianism more difficult both to recognize and to resist?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: This is one of the great achievements of the end of the Cold War. All of a sudden, we all like democracy, and we all want to be democrats. Citizens, foreign governments, and international organizations have all become supporters of democracy, broadly conceived, and no leader wants to be labeled undemocratic or anti-democratic. There are important symbolic and practical consequences to being “a dictator.” In order to avoid being called a dictator, leaders with authoritarian tendencies generally don’t resort to overtly abrasive actions like coups, self-coups, or the kinds of moves we used to see in the past. Instead, they turn to methods that are much more covert.

They still want to gain control over other branches of government. They still want to govern without limits. But they don’t want to do so in a way that would brand them as authoritarians or dictators. Of course, the problem with this kind of democratic backsliding is that, when these leaders try to undermine democracy without appearing to be dictators, they usually use and abuse the very levers of democracy. They try to change the rules. They invoke popular power to bypass other institutions. They resort to false information and other practices that are not necessarily visibly undemocratic, but are nevertheless undemocratic.

Precisely because these actions are not visibly undemocratic, they are very difficult to identify. It’s hard for someone who is concerned about democracy to say, “You are trying to undermine democracy,” when the only thing the president appears to be doing is proposing a constitutional reform. Or when the only thing the president appears to be doing is calling for a plebiscite. After all, plebiscites are supposed to be highly democratic. A lot of people are voting, so it’s really difficult to convey where the threat lies. And by the time the threat becomes evident, it’s usually too late.

The Double-Edged Nature of Populist Politics

The former president of Venezuela, Hugo Chavez (L) and Nicolas Maduro (R) in Cumana, Venezuela, April 17, 2009. Photo: Harold Escalona.

Much of the public debate assumes that populism inevitably produces democratic backsliding. Yet your work suggests a more nuanced relationship. Under what political and institutional conditions does populism become compatible with democratic inclusion, and when does it evolve into a vehicle for executive aggrandizement and democratic erosion?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: Populism is a double-sided coin. I don’t think you get one without the other. On the one hand, all populists are vehicles for inclusion. They tend to mobilize people who were previously outside the political arena. This was true of Juan Domingo Perón in Argentina in the 1940s. It was true for Hugo Chávez in the 1990s and early 2000s, and it is also true for Donald Trump.

We see something similar in Colombia. The recent election, with Abelardo de la Espriella and Iván Zepeda running, produced an unprecedented turnout in Colombia’s recent history. These leaders clearly know how to speak to groups that have not been incorporated into the political arena. The problem is that their ability to bring these groups into politics is closely tied to the way they connect with people. They don’t rely on institutional channels—particularly political parties—to relate to their constituencies. Instead, they operate outside those channels. Not only that, but sometimes—and more often than not—they actively delegitimize those institutional channels, which makes them, and only them, the sole viable leader. That, in turn, makes them incredibly dangerous for democracy because, if you see yourself as the only translator of the popular will, then you can never leave office.

So, I think populism is, in that sense, a double-sided sword. On the one hand, populists tap into some kind of grievance, perhaps an unfulfilled need or a lack of representation. In doing so, they mobilize people who were not part of the political conversation before. But the way they do so is incredibly personalistic, charismatic, and ultimately authoritarian.

So, when they become presidents, you have this inherent tension: a leader who is able to mobilize large numbers of people who were previously outside the political arena, but also a leader who wants to remain in power because he sees himself as the translator of the popular will.

Democratic Survival Depends on Opposition Strategy

One of your book’s most original contributions is shifting attention away from aspiring autocrats toward the democratic opposition itself. Why do you believe the behavior of opposition parties is so frequently underestimated in explaining democratic survival? More fundamentally, can democratic oppositions unintentionally accelerate democratic erosion even while believing they are defending democracy?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: Although my book was published in 2022, the analytical lens has increasingly shifted toward the opposition ever since Donald Trump came to power. If you ask me why scholars didn’t pay much attention to the opposition before, my first instinct is that these kinds of phenomena—populists coming to power, undermining institutions, and eroding democracy—were largely seen as phenomena of the Global South. So we simply didn’t think very much about democratic survival. But when Donald Trump came to power—when this became something that was happening in the United States—all of a sudden scholars, activists, and practitioners were forced to think seriously about democratic survival.

To a certain extent, the prevailing attitude toward the Hugo Chávezes, Evo Moraleses, and Rafael Correas of the Global South was: “Oh, yeah, those people gain power there. Of course they’re going to win there. These countries are poor, they’re weak, they have weak parties.” When Donald Trump won the election in the United States, however, we were suddenly confronted with the fact that these kinds of leaders could also win office in countries we considered consolidated democracies. And all of a sudden, we were confronted with a new question: We have to think about democratic survival. This has to be a real possibility.

There’s something about the way we think about dictators in general that makes it very difficult to see successes and failures as a byproduct of opposition strategies. The academic world has largely split into two camps. One camp believes that when would-be autocrats or dictators fail, it’s because the dictator was weak. So, of course, they were going to fail. It doesn’t matter who the opposition was or what the opposition did. The dictator was simply weak. Likewise, when dictators succeed, it becomes a kind of fait accompli: of course, the dictator was going to win because the dictator was strong.

Then, there’s the camp in which I position myself. But I’m really standing on the shoulders of some incredibly important scholarship, including one of my favorite books, Valerie J. Bunce and Sharon L. Wolchik’s work on the color revolutions in Eastern Europe. That scholarship looks at the other side of the bottle. Rather than focusing on strong or weak dictators, it focuses on strong or weak oppositions, or on strategically smart and well-organized oppositions.

If you’re in one camp, it’s very difficult to see what the other camp is seeing. So I think those are the two reasons why the opposition was so often overlooked.

The only reason I started thinking about the opposition is because I’m originally from Colombia. In 2012, we had a visitor here at Notre Dame, where I was doing my PhD, who was talking about how Hugo Chávez and Evo Morales who were able to erode democracy because they were so popular. At the time, I had just come out of Álvaro Uribe’s government. Of course, any Colombian knows that Uribe was incredibly popular, at least until fairly recently.

So all of a sudden, I found myself asking, “Okay, but hold on. If popularity is all that matters, then we should have expected Álvaro Uribe to succeed.” That question, of course, led me to start looking at what Tom Ginsburg and Aziz Huq call the “near misses.” Why do some countries succeed while others fail?

But I don’t think that question would have been obvious to anyone who wasn’t thoroughly familiar with the Colombian case. The assumption was simply that Álvaro Uribe was never going to succeed because he ultimately did not succeed. There’s a kind of tautological logic underlying many of these cases.

Ignoring Citizens’ Grievances Strengthens Would-Be Autocrats

Your typology distinguishes between moderate institutional opposition and radical extra-institutional resistance. Yet when democratic institutions themselves become increasingly captured by elected autocrats, many opposition actors argue that extraordinary measures become necessary. How should democratic forces determine when institutional resistance remains democratic—and when radical resistance risks giving autocratizers the pretext they need to repress, delegitimize, or criminalize the opposition?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: This is a very complicated question because, to a certain extent, it is connected to this duality, this double-sided nature of democratic backsliding. The fact that it happens slowly provides opportunities for the opposition. But the fact that it happens so slowly also makes it very difficult to identify exactly where the threat lies.

My book mostly analyzes presidents who come to power democratically. In other words, I don’t analyze Nicolás Maduro because he never came to power democratically. Nor would I analyze the later terms of Erdoğan, who I don’t think has come to power democratically in the past two elections. I focus on presidents who come to power democratically. And, to the extent that these presidents come to power democratically, it is incredibly important to respect the electoral process.

Not only because that’s the democratic thing to do—you cannot claim that the other side is violating democracy if you’re not willing to respect its basic tenets—but also because many of these leaders come to power by tapping into real grievances. They don’t come to power out of thin air. There’s something missing in the system that these leaders are responding to, and the people they represent deserve to have their voices heard.

When Hugo Chávez came to power, he did not inherit a perfect Venezuela. He came to power in a country where the political class had become corrupt, the economy was collapsing, inequality was through the roof, and the mechanisms of representation—particularly the political parties—had become deeply delegitimized. Yes, Hugo Chávez certainly contributed to the further de-legitimization of institutions. But the weakness of Venezuela’s traditional parties long predated Chávez’s arrival on the political scene.

So, I think these leaders tap into something that is real, and I don’t think we can simply ignore those grievances because we disagree with them. The same is true of the people who voted for Donald Trump. Yes, Donald Trump is a would-be autocrat, and I really don’t agree with—or think that—his positions on immigration or LGBTQ+ communities are going to make this country any better. But I do think the grievances that propelled him to power are real. People felt that their towns were changing because, all of a sudden, there were many newcomers. People felt that opportunities were going to someone else. Those feelings are real, and they need to be grappled with.

So, if you simply say, “Well, this president that you elected democratically is not a legitimate president,” you’re ignoring the grievances of those citizens. That’s a mistake. It’s much smarter to grapple with those grievances and figure out how to address them—not how to embrace the policies, but how to address those feelings of not being seen and not being heard, which are actually at the core of many of these problems.

Of course, as I mentioned before, autocrats don’t get to govern like kings. If they commit crimes or do things in office that they shouldn’t do, there are constitutional mechanisms to deal with them and remove them. Sometimes those mechanisms work, and sometimes they don’t. Most constitutions include some form of impeachment process. Parliamentary systems have votes of no confidence. There are institutional mechanisms for dealing with these situations that don’t require organizing in the streets, launching a coup, or organizing a strike to force the president to resign.

I think using institutions is, in general, a good idea, regardless of repression. I don’t think, however, that institutions, in and of themselves, function the same way in the early stages of democratic erosion as they do in the later stages. I hear this criticism all the time when people read my book. They come back and say, “Well, institutions weren’t going to work in Venezuela in 2015.” My response is: of course, they weren’t. Those institutions had already been co-opted. They were no longer impartial referees of political competition. That doesn’t mean you shouldn’t participate in elections.

Choosing not to use those institutions simply means abandoning political space that you could still occupy. It does mean, however, that institutions alone are not enough. At that point, you have to think about whether it makes sense to combine them with certain extra-institutional strategies, as we saw, for example, in Guatemala in 2023. Bernardo Arévalo entered an election that he was very unlikely to win. The stars aligned, he made it into the runoff, and he ultimately won. But because the system had already been co-opted—and because, more specifically, the electoral authorities were effectively controlled by the attorney general—he was unlikely to actually become president unless something else happened. And that something else happened in the streets. Indigenous communities, peasant organizations, and urban groups mobilized to defend the election.

So, to answer the question, when there is a democratic electoral process and one of these leaders becomes president, they have earned the right to govern within the limits of the law. I also think that using institutions is a good idea regardless. And I cannot think of a single example in which extra-institutional strategies pursuing radical goals actually helped promote democracy.

In Latin America, we had one successful coup, the one against Manuel Zelaya. What ended up happening was that Zelaya was removed from office, but another authoritarian leader was installed in his place. Honduras remained close to authoritarianism during the first few years afterward and has been authoritarian ever since. So, I just don’t think that advances democracy. It may advance one side of the political spectrum, but it doesn’t advance democracy.

Successors Can Become Democracy’s Unexpected Defenders

Former Colombian President Juan Manuel Santos.
Former Colombian President Juan Manuel Santos participates in the March for Life in Bogotá, Colombia, on March 8, 2015. Photo: Dreamstime.

Your comparison of Colombia under Álvaro Uribe and Venezuela under Hugo Chávez shows that similar institutional pressures can produce radically different outcomes depending on opposition strategy. Looking back from today’s vantage point, what is the most important lesson Colombia offers about resisting democratic erosion without abandoning democratic legitimacy?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: The first lesson is the one I pointed out earlier. I think that kind of opposition protects democracy in the long term. By the time Álvaro Uribe stepped down, we still had a Constitutional Court, we still had a Congress that had not been co-opted, and we still had oversight agencies. I think that, in and of itself, is incredibly important.

There’s another lesson here, and I sometimes get criticized for it. People who read my book say, “How can you say that?” They argue that I end the Colombian chapter on an overly optimistic note, as though Colombia somehow just lived happily ever after in this blessed democracy, which is really not true.

So, let me put it this way. I don’t think moderate institutional strategies that stop democratic erosion are designed to advance democracy. They stop the bleeding. They stop the immediate threats to democracy. In doing so, they create windows of opportunity for others, later on, to deepen and expand democracy. That’s what happened in Colombia. Juan Manuel Santos came to power, pushed forward the peace agreement, and Colombia became a better democracy afterward than it had been when Álvaro Uribe stepped down.

There’s another criticism I sometimes receive about the Colombian case. People say, “What are you talking about? It was a member of Uribe’s coalition who actually came to power.” Uribe himself couldn’t run, but Juan Manuel Santos—his former minister of defense—won the presidency. To that, I would simply say: yes, but successors are not the autocrat.

We’ve been pleasantly surprised by a number of successors in Latin America and elsewhere. Lenín Moreno, who succeeded Correa, was not Correa’s puppet. Santos was not Uribe’s puppet. Luis Arce has had a more mixed trajectory, but, to a certain extent, after coming to power, he also veered away from Evo Morales and his attempts to remain in office. So, successors are not necessarily the same as their charismatic predecessors. That’s something we need to keep in mind, because sometimes those successors are our best chance to protect democracy.

Legitimacy Makes Courts Democracy’s Strongest Guardrails

In your recent work on “courts against backsliding,” you argue that independent courts can engage in “constitutional balancing” and slow or stop autocratization. What makes courts effective defenders of democracy in some contexts, while in others they become captured, politicized, or unable to contain executive power?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: I’ll make a distinction first, and I don’t think it’s one we make often enough. Courts can be, and often are, potential guardrails against democratic erosion. But sometimes they are the drivers of democratic backsliding. To a certain extent, democratic erosion in countries like Guatemala—and, I say this more cautiously, the United States—has been driven by certain courts. Definitely not all courts, but certain ones.

So, when I talk about constitutional balancing, I’m talking about courts that are designed to be guardrails for democracy, not courts that are pushing the process forward.

This research—which is still ongoing—is something I’m conducting with Ezequiel González-Ocantos from Oxford and Benjamín García Holgado from the University of Delaware.

For these courts to be successful, they need to have some kind of legitimacy. One of the lessons from the Colombian case is that, to a certain extent, the Constitutional Court was able to curb Álvaro Uribe’s attempts to undermine democracy because the court itself enjoyed a high degree of legitimacy. It was in a position that, for instance, the Venezuelan Supreme Court—before Chávez changed the Constitution—was not.

So the first thing I would say is that it’s not so much about the court being independent or autonomous as it is about the court being legitimate in the eyes of the public and about people being willing to defend that legitimacy. I also think there’s something about how the court rules that is very important.

In the article you’re referring to, we talk about constitutional balancing. What we mean by constitutional balancing is that, when democracy is threatened by violations of horizontal accountability—that is, attempts by the executive, or others, to undermine checks and balances—the court can rely on a more orthodox jurisprudence to rule against those attempts and preserve the constitutional balance.

This orthodox approach to threats against checks and balances is usually more effective than a more heterodox approach because it is easier to defend and support. If you think about it, what usually happens is that you have a very popular incumbent trying to change the Constitution while claiming some kind of democratic mandate. Then you have an unelected court trying to stop that incumbent.

If the court relies on existing written law or long-standing jurisprudence, it can act much more forcefully than if it relies on some kind of out-of-the-blue theory to rule against the incumbent. This becomes very clear when you compare the case of Mexico with the case of Colombia, although it’s also true of Argentina and other countries.

In Colombia, during Álvaro Uribe’s government, the Constitutional Court relied on a constitutional provision stating that constitutional reforms had to follow a particular procedure. What the opposition did inside Congress was to signal to the court when Congress was violating that procedure. The court therefore ruled primarily on those procedural irregularities. 

During Álvaro Uribe’s government, the court and some of its allies were developing what we call the constitutional substitution theory. That theory suggested that if constitutional reforms went beyond a certain point, they were no longer reforms but attempts to replace the Constitution, and that the Constitution could not be replaced through ordinary constitutional amendment. On that basis, the court could rule against those reforms. But in the early 2000s, this was still a very new theory, so the Constitutional Court in Colombia invoked it only very rarely in its rulings against Uribe. Today, we see the court invoking it left and right, but twenty years have passed. 

Some scholars believed that the Mexican Supreme Court could invoke the same theory to stop the judicial reform that ultimately dismantled judicial independence in Mexico. The Mexican Court, to a certain extent, played with that possibility. But because the theory had never been used in Mexico, it was very difficult for the court suddenly to argue, almost out of thin air, that this judicial theory justified ruling against a very popular incumbent. So, we think jurisprudence matters.

There’s also other work that points to two additional factors I think are important. One is that the Colombian Constitutional Court has been very good at ruling even-handedly. In Spanish, we have a saying that the court gives to both God and the devil. The justices understood that they needed to protect both themselves and the institution, so they were very careful not only to constrain the government but also to present themselves as a balanced court.

The other line of research that is very important focuses on how courts build legitimacy through networks of allies, both inside and outside the judiciary. We’re talking not only about justices, but also lawyers, legal NGOs, and activists who have a vested interest in preserving the court. These actors help support the justices and make it much more difficult for an incumbent to fire them, dismantle the court, or undermine it in other ways.

Why Constitutional Constraints Matter More Than Speed

Your work with Sandra Botero shows how Colombia’s Constitutional Court indirectly expands the strategic repertoire of minority coalitions in Congress by allowing them to document procedural irregularities and challenge legislation. Can institutional obstruction be a democratic tool of resistance, and how can we distinguish legitimate constitutional defense from anti-democratic sabotage?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: Like populists, institutional controls—or these kinds of institutional checks—are two-sided coins. On the one hand, they’re really good at curbing potential autocrats who leverage majorities, and they’re really good at protecting minorities, regardless of who those minorities are, from abuses of power. I think that’s a good thing. But, on the other hand, this also means that they sometimes curb the will of the majority and, in doing so, constrain policy reforms that many of us might regard as beneficial for the community or for the country.

I don’t know if you can have one without the other. I think this is a trade-off. If you want institutions that are able to check other branches of government—in this case, a court that can check both the executive and Congress—that court inevitably becomes a source of moderation for public policy. I don’t think there’s a way to have one without the other.

And I also don’t think this is an entirely bad thing. Let me explain why. Colombia has had many presidents, some of whom I supported and some of whom I didn’t. In 2016, Juan Manuel Santos was pushing for the peace process, which I strongly supported. He wanted to pass a reform that would have allowed him to introduce the legislation implementing the peace agreements to Congress and turn it into law while curtailing the ability of members of Congress to add amendments or modify it in any way, shape, or form.

This would have significantly sped up the implementation of the peace agreements and probably would have changed the ability of subsequent governments—both Iván Duque’s and Gustavo Petro’s—to undermine those agreements. That being said, it would also have created an incredibly dangerous precedent for future presidents, one that I fear could be used for purposes I would consider less “democratic” or beneficial for the community.

The court ruled against it. Indeed, implementing the peace agreement and turning it into law was arduous and complicated, and it certainly diluted some of its provisions. There’s no doubt about that. But I would rather have that than allow a president whom I don’t trust, and whom I think is inherently authoritarian, like Abelardo de la Espriella, to use that same power to push through measures that would violate human rights or allow him to govern without any meaningful constraints. That is incredibly dangerous.

As a matter of fact, it’s one of the reasons why I’m very hesitant—or very ambivalent—about my view of the filibuster in the United States. Most Democrats, and most of my colleagues, will tell you that the filibuster is terrible because Republicans have mostly used it to obstruct the Obama and Biden administrations—to block judicial appointments, obstruct policy agendas, and prevent the implementation of Democratic priorities. And I think they’re right. But I also think that the filibuster today is the last institutional tool Democrats in Congress have to stand on if they are to have any chance of even minimally curtailing what I see as an incredibly dangerous and authoritarian agenda on the part of the current government.

So, I don’t think you can have one without the other. But if I have to choose, I’d rather have a court that moderates the policy agenda while also protecting me from people whom I consider to be autocrats than a court that does not moderate the policy agenda and is also unable to protect me from people whom I think are authoritarian.

Lowering Polarization Is One of Democracy’s Strongest Defenses

Colombia, protest.
Protesters march peacefully through Bogotá calling for the impeachment of President Gustavo Petro and opposing the government’s proposed reforms on April 21, 2024. Photo: Anamaria Mejía / Dreamstime.

Finally, drawing together your work on Colombia, Venezuela, Latin America, courts, opposition strategy, and democratic resilience, what would a global “democratic resistance playbook” look like today? What are the core mistakes opposition actors must avoid, and what principles should guide democratic forces confronting elected leaders who erode democracy from within?

Assoc. Prof. Laura Gamboa: I have a couple of ideas: One of the core mistakes—and I see this happening time and time again—is dismissing the reasons why the autocrat comes to power. All of these would-be autocrats come to power because they tap into some kind of discontent. Opposition parties and pro-democratic movements should take that discontent seriously. They should ask themselves how they can address it. My understanding is that, more often than not, this discontent reflects a lack of representation.

It’s not about whether people prefer stricter or more permissive immigration policies, or whether they support reproductive rights. It’s about people wanting to be seen by those who govern them and wanting to be understood by those who govern them.

What Hugo Chávez had that other politicians lacked was the ability to present himself as one of the people he represented. Álvaro Uribe had a similar strength. He, too, presented himself as one of the people he represented. The same is true of Trump. The same is true of leaders like Abelardo de la Espriella, and even Gustavo Petro, who is, in some ways, a Colombian populist on the left.

We really need to think very carefully about representation. When confronting one of these populist leaders in the executive, we need to reflect on what we’re missing and what we failed to tap into. 

If we do this as pro-democratic activists, practitioners, and scholars—if we take these questions seriously—it will enable us to approach opposition differently.

Rather than approaching opposition as a mechanism for getting rid of everything the other side represents, we can approach it in a more respectful manner toward the voters—not the autocrat, but the voters who put that person into office.

It will allow us to see the coalition that brings these autocrats to power as more diverse than we often assume, and perhaps find allies at the margins. And allies at the margins are a great idea because they help us build broader coalitions. They are the Juan Manuel Santoses of the story.

That also reduces the feeling that you need to get rid of this guy today. In doing so, it allows you to develop longer-term strategies that protect democracy while also lowering polarization.

To have a polarized society, you need two sides. You need the polarizer, but you also need somebody to respond to that polarization. If you don’t respond to that polarization, it’s really hard to polarize. Ask Gustavo Petro. Doing politics in a society that is not polarized is significantly easier than doing politics in a society that is polarized.

A society that is not polarized allows you to build coalitions with the other side. It allows you to highlight the importance of protecting institutions beyond immediate policy interests. It allows you to draw voters toward more moderate candidates. So, in the long run, it allows you to accomplish much more. 

Those are the two mistakes that I see opposition actors making time and time again when confronting these kinds of situations.

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele.

Prof. Scheppele’s Three Priorities for Hungary: Reform the Constitutional Court, Restore Judicial Checks, and Change the Election Law

Hungary’s democratic transition has entered a decisive new phase following Péter Magyar’s electoral victory, but, as Professor Kim Lane Scheppele argues, defeating an autocrat is only the beginning of democratic restoration. In this timely interview, Professor Scheppele examines the constitutional dilemmas confronting Hungary’s new leadership: dismantling autocratic legalism without reproducing it, restoring judicial independence, ensuring accountability without political revenge, and rebuilding institutions capable of sustaining genuine democratic competition. Drawing broader lessons for democracies facing executive aggrandizement, she contends that successful democratic recovery requires more than electoral change. Hungary’s experience, she argues, may become a comparative model for constitutional reconstruction—provided that democratic reformers succeed in limiting their own power while rebuilding the institutional foundations of liberal constitutional democracy.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

For more than a decade, Hungary has occupied a central place in comparative debates on democratic backsliding, constitutional capture, and the rise of legalistic authoritarianism. Under Viktor Orbán, the country became the paradigmatic example of how elected leaders could gradually dismantle liberal democracy not by suspending constitutional order but by systematically reshaping it from within. Through constitutional amendments, judicial restructuring, electoral engineering, and the concentration of executive authority, Hungary demonstrated that democratic erosion in the twenty-first century increasingly proceeds through law rather than outside it. Yet the electoral defeat of Orbán has fundamentally transformed the scholarly conversation. The central question is no longer how democracies decay, but whether they can be successfully rebuilt once authoritarian legal structures have become deeply institutionalized.

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Kim Lane Scheppele, the Laurance S. Rockefeller Professor of Sociology and International Affairs at Princeton University, examines one of the most consequential constitutional experiments currently unfolding in Europe: Hungary’s attempt to move from autocratic rule toward democratic restoration. Drawing upon decades of research on constitutionalism, judicial independence, autocratic legalism, and democratic resilience, Professor Scheppele argues that Hungary may now become not only the world’s foremost laboratory of democratic backsliding but also an unprecedented laboratory of democratic recovery.

Throughout the interview, Professor Scheppele repeatedly distinguishes democratic restoration from ordinary democratic transition. Electoral victory, she insists, represents only the first step. As she memorably observes, “The real test of democracy is not the first election—but the next one.” The ultimate challenge is whether a new democratic government can dismantle institutions deliberately designed to prevent future political alternation while simultaneously avoiding the temptation to reproduce concentrated executive power.

One of the interview’s central contributions concerns what Professor Scheppele describes as the paradox of autocratic legality. Because Orbán entrenched political domination through constitutional and legal mechanisms, democratic reformers may confront situations in which “when law entrenches autocracy, following it may preserve the regime.” This raises profound constitutional dilemmas concerning judicial reform, constitutional replacement, accountability, and the relationship between legality and democratic legitimacy.

Professor Scheppele also explores the practical architecture of democratic reconstruction. She argues that “power must be limited even during democratic restoration,” advocates a constitutional process in which “the rules of the game” are democratically rewritten, and proposes a broader understanding of the rule of law rooted in European constitutional standards rather than exclusively in national legal continuity. Her discussion of judicial reconstruction, constitutional redesign, and transnational legal constraints offers an important comparative framework extending well beyond Hungary.

Perhaps most significantly, Professor Scheppele identifies the political conditions that made democratic change possible. Hungary’s experience demonstrates, she argues, that successful democratic opposition must “fight corruption, build a big tent, and take people out of fear.”

Looking ahead, she concludes that the durability of democratic recovery will depend upon three immediate institutional priorities: reforming the Constitutional Court, restoring meaningful judicial checks, and redesigning the electoral system. Whether Hungary succeeds or fails, she suggests, will shape how democracies around the world think about rebuilding constitutional government after authoritarian capture.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Kim Lane Scheppele, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

The Real Test of Democracy Is Not the First Election—but the Next One

Péter Magyar.
Péter Magyar speaks at a public demonstration near the Hungarian Parliament building in Budapest on April 6, 2024. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.

Professor Scheppele, welcome! To begin, in your recent Journal of Democracy article, you argue that Péter Magyar’s electoral victory represents only the beginning—not the culmination—of Hungary’s democratic recovery. Why is defeating an autocrat at the ballot box fundamentally different from dismantling an autocratic regime? More broadly, what distinguishes democratic transition from democratic restoration after more than a decade of constitutional capture?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: This is such a good question. It depends on what we think democracy is. There’s a very thin version of democracy in which democracy simply means that you’re ruled by whoever you last elected. But there’s also a separate question, and this is more how I tend to think about democracy and what it requires. Democracy is about getting to the next election so that you can rotate power. It’s not just about whether the people who are currently in charge were elected. In order to achieve a fully democratic transformation, you have to guarantee not only that the election you just had was free and fair and capable of rotating power, but also that whatever happens after that first election—or, shall we say, the election that brings new people into office—they will be able to guarantee democratic elections in the future.

This is where there has to be a pivot from winning a campaign, which is what a challenger has to do to overthrow an autocrat, to actually governing, which means dismantling the structures that any new democrat could simply walk into. I mean, Péter Magyar in Hungary could just step into the driver’s seat of this convoy that Viktor Orbán has built and drive it off into the sunset as Hungary’s newest dictator. He could do that. But the crucial question is whether he can actually transform the system so that it is capable of replacing even him. That’s a different kind of project and, in some ways, a much more difficult one because of the temptations of power.

When Law Entrenches Autocracy, Following It May Preserve the Regime

Throughout your scholarship, you have shown that contemporary autocrats increasingly govern through law rather than outside it—a phenomenon you famously conceptualized as “autocratic legalism.” If authoritarian consolidation has been accomplished through constitutional amendments, ordinary legislation, judicial appointments, and legally entrenched institutions, can democratic restoration also proceed exclusively through legal means, or are there moments when strict constitutional fidelity risks preserving the very architecture of autocracy?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: Another great question. These new legalistic autocrats—and Viktor Orbán really sets the gold standard for how to do this in a bad way—show that one thing you can do is simply lock down all power by law. That was what Viktor Orbán did. He was able to do it because he had this kind of constitutional majority, with two-thirds of the parliamentary seats. When he was elected, he was able to install a friendly president. They expanded the number of judges on the Constitutional Court to capture it. They basically legally changed the entire environment in which they operated, so that within only three years, Orbán controlled all of the levers of government that could make a real difference in governing. 

Now Péter Magyar walks into that system. The Orbán holdovers are still there. The problem is that he can’t govern as long as those holdovers block anything he does that either makes the outgoing Fidesz party accountable or prevents its return to power. So this is the dilemma. In order to remove those folks, it turns out they’ve all been protected by the laws that Viktor Orbán put in place. Just to give you one example, the president of the country—who’s sort of a figurehead—has one important task, which is to sign all laws and constitutional amendments. Now, he can block anything the parliament passes, even with Péter Magyar’s overwhelming majority. His term, however, lasts three more years.

So, what do they do about him? It turns out the law on the presidency was amended just last year to remove the one avenue the parliament would have had to impeach him. Which is to say, there are no legal avenues left for the Parliament to remove the President without hitting another roadblock, which is the packed Constitutional Court. And then, if they go after the Constitutional Court, the only way to get rid of judges is for the other judges to vote to remove their colleagues, which they won’t do because the institution’s packed. So, when you’ve got a situation like that—where it’s been deliberately constructed to make it impossible for the next government to actually govern—you may have to break the law to get to the point where democratic recovery is possible.

If democratic recovery means getting to the next election so that rotation of power is possible, you’ve got to get rid of the roadblock. This is what Péter Magyar is up against now. There’s a constitutional amendment that may be voted as we speak, that would have the effect of removing the president and changing the composition of the Constitutional Court, among many other things. It’s being attacked by “rule-of-law advocates” because it doesn’t actually follow legal procedures.

So this is where you have a choice. Do you follow the law set up by the autocrat to preserve their capture even when they lose elections? Or do you have to break that law to create the possibility of a more robust democracy? I’m in favor of the latter. I know a lot of international organizations are in favor of the former. That’s where we have the debate.

Power Must Be Limited Even During Democratic Restoration

Supporters of the TISZA Party gather on Andrássy Avenue in Budapest during a national march led by Péter Magyar on Hungary’s March 15 national holiday, March 15, 2026. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.

One of the deepest dilemmas facing any post-autocratic government is how to dismantle institutions deliberately designed to prevent democratic change. How can a democratic government undo constitutional capture without itself appearing to engage in the same kind of majoritarian constitutional engineering that characterized Viktor Orbán’s rule? Where should democrats draw the line between constitutional correction and constitutional overreach?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: Again, this is great, and it follows from what we were just talking about. Basically, Péter Magyar has to get rid of these roadblocks. There’s just no way he can govern without doing that. In some sense, he will have to break the law to make the law. That’s where he is.

Now, what people are nervous about—and ironically, what Orbán’s followers have been doing—is saying, “What about checks and balances? What about the rule of law?” At that point, you want to say, “Look, you guys had 16 years in which you abolished checks and balances and designed the rule of law so that it only benefited you.” So I don’t think those are the folks we need to listen to here. But here’s the dilemma. It’s entirely possible for somebody who comes into Péter Magyar’s position, with this level of parliamentary support, to run off the rails and create the next dictatorship. It’s absolutely possible. So there have to be checks on that process.

Here are a couple of things that give me hope about the Hungarian transition.

The first constitutional amendment that Péter Magyar put before the Parliament was one that would limit the lifetime occupancy of the prime ministership to eight years over a lifetime. Now, that law—which the president signed, although he signed it with a signing statement that makes it ambiguous what the law does, but that’s for the next challenge—disqualifies Viktor Orbán from coming back. But it also disqualifies Péter Magyar from serving more than one more term. He said, “I will follow this law and only stay here a maximum of eight years, provided you reelect me the next time.” That’s good. That’s a power-limiting move. There are some other power-limiting moves that they’ve been making as well.

One of the things they’ve also done is limit the terms of members of parliament to 12 years. That will also prevent a lot of Orbán’s cronies, who helped set up that system, from coming back. It controversially also excludes a lot of the old communist dissidents who sat in parliament for many years and are still around, still useful, and still helpful. So it’s a controversial amendment, but again, it’s a kind of cleaning house. We don’t want anybody to be in power forever. All of those are good signs.

What they’re also doing now with this new giant 17th Amendment to the Constitution is shortening the terms of office of some of the officeholders. One way Orbán entrenched himself was by appointing the public prosecutor for nine years, the head of the Constitutional Court for 12 years, and all of these key offices that lasted beyond elections, through multiple electoral rounds. So they’re shortening the terms of office of a number of those officials, which is good because it makes entrenchment harder.

They’re also, through this 17th Amendment, trying to make it much more difficult for the government to capture policy. Another thing Orbán did was to create almost 50—what are called in Hungarian cardinal laws, as they get translated, or constitutional laws for those who do comparative constitutional politics. These are laws that require almost the parliamentary strength of a constitutional amendment to amend.

Orbán locked down everything from social welfare policy—just across the board—on issues that ought to rotate with a rotation of power. Orbán locked his system in. So they’re also reducing the number of two-thirds laws, which makes it easier for any successor government to change whatever it is that the Magyar government is doing. In other words, they’ve looked at the whole system and they’re trying to un-entrench it, so that whoever follows them in power is not bound by the same strictures that they have to govern with. They have to break the law to do that. That’s what they’re doing. A lot of it is power-limiting on their behalf.

When the Rules of the Game Are Captured, the Rules Must Be Rewritten

Your work repeatedly warns that legal continuity may paradoxically preserve autocratic power. How should democratic reformers approach inherited constitutions that remain formally valid but have been systematically transformed into instruments of executive domination? Is there a point at which constitutional legality itself becomes an obstacle to constitutional democracy?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: The point of a constitution is to set the rules of the game, politics being the game. What happens when politics captures the rules of the game? That’s what happens under autocratic capture, where autocrats design the rules of the game so that only they can win. It was something of a miracle that Péter Magyar was able to break through Orbán’s electoral system, which has guaranteed Orbán these supermajorities.

Magyar was only able to do that by essentially reverse-engineering Orbán’s system and campaigning in the countryside because, under Orbán’s system, the votes in the countryside counted two or three times as much as votes in the cities. That’s another story. I have another Journal of Democracy piece, published right after the election, that shows how he did that. Once he breaks through that system, you’ve got this whole other problem with the constitution, which locks in the rules of the game to benefit Fidesz.

So what Péter Magyar has now said is that they’re going to start, in September, a constitutional drafting process that will be inclusive, that will review all of this, and that, under his watch, will produce a new constitution. These two amendments—the 16th, which limits the prime minister’s term of office to eight years over a lifetime, and this new, very large 17th Amendment, which essentially removes the president and some of the Constitutional Court judges, cuts back the number of two-thirds laws, and shortens the terms of office of these officeholders—are all meant to be provisional. They are intended simply to allow the government to govern in the meantime until it reaches a new constitutional drafting process. They haven’t announced what that process looks like. But that’s one way to overcome an autocratic constitution: involve the public, through a democratic process, in rewriting it. That’s what they’ve said they’re going to do.

Europe’s Rule of Law Must Help Democracies Escape Autocratic Capture

Hungary - EU
Flags of Hungary and the European Union displayed together in Budapest. Hungary has been an EU member since 2004. Photo: Jerome Cid / Dreamstime.

You have written extensively about the systematic dismantling of judicial independence in Hungary and Poland. Once a judiciary has been politically captured over many years, can genuine judicial independence simply be restored through new appointments, or does democratic reconstruction require a more fundamental rethinking of judicial institutions, appointment mechanisms, and constitutional guarantees?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: In Hungary and Poland, the judiciaries were captured in different ways, and that’s why you need different mechanisms to undo the capture. In Poland, when the Law and Justice Party (PiS) government came into power, they just took a sledgehammer to the courts. They put judges onto the Constitutional Court unlawfully because the PiS government did not have the constitutional majority that Orbán had to change the Constitution. So they just rammed their folks onto the Constitutional Court, changed the procedure for appointing constitutional judges, and captured the court by brute force. It wasn’t literally force, but the point was that it wasn’t legal.

They, then, changed the system for appointing judges so that judges were appointed through an overtly political process. After eight years of PiS, which was the pro-autocratic party—there had been 3,500 judges appointed. What do you do with that? You don’t have a spare judiciary. What the Ombudsman Adam Bodnar, who became the Justice Minister, tried to do was to say, “Let’s dissolve the Constitutional Court and start over.” The Venice Commission, which is the advisory body of the Council of Europe, came in and said, “No, you can’t do that.”

To which—and I have a critique of the Venice Commission in Verfassungsblog—my response is that you’ve got to actually help these governments get over autocratic capture, or nothing else matters. Unfortunately, the Venice Commission is not doing that.

So that was the first proposal. The Constitutional Court remains there. Instead, what the government has been doing in Poland is simply refusing to publish its decisions, at which point they can’t take effect. It’s not an elegant solution, and it’s not a legal solution, but it keeps the court from becoming an obstacle to the transition.

As for the ordinary judiciary, the Bodnar proposal was to classify judges into multiple categories. One approach was to recognize that, in most of Europe, the judiciary is a civil-service-type organization. You go to law school to train to be a judge. You come out as a baby judge. You get appointed to a small judgeship and then get promoted through the ranks. Bodnar’s proposal was that anyone who came through that system should get to stay because it was not a politically influenced process.

Then there were the judges who were already judges when PiS came to power, and PiS promoted them through this politically charged process. Bodnar said, “Okay, you take all those judges, and you put them back where they were when PiS came in.” So they’re not going to lose their jobs; they’re just going to lose their promotions.

Then there’s a set of judges that PiS brought in from the outside to populate especially the highest reaches of the judiciary, and they were really the political force within the judiciary. Bodnar proposed firing them. The Venice Commission also didn’t like that.

So we’re sort of between a rock and a hard place. You’ve got the Venice Commission—and now Human Rights Watch on the new Hungarian proposals. These organizations are committed to the rule of law, and their view is that you can’t escape autocratic capture unless you do every step by lawful means.

My worry about that is that if the law was put in place to prevent a transition to any other government, you’re never going to get out of it if that’s your view of the rule of law. So what I proposed was something else. Actually, I’m going to say something about Hungary, and then I’ll come back to that broader point.

In Hungary, it’s a little bit easier to deal with the judiciary. The Constitutional Court is totally packed. That really has to be either dissolved or dealt with by either putting new judges on or taking judges off. You cannot live with that court as it stands.

In the Hungarian case, I’ve proposed that the parliament establish a court above the Constitutional Court, which can review all Hungarian legislation—all Hungarian normative acts, as they’re called, meaning acts that have legal force—for their compliance with European law. So there’s a double review. The Constitutional Court does whatever it does with the Constitution as it stands. Then you’ve got this other court that tries to bring Hungary into line with European standards. I don’t know if they’re going to do that, but that’s one way out without firing the judges.

This gets me to my broader proposal. The great thing about being in Europe is that Europe has a very dense network of transnational organizations. It has the European Union for Hungary and Poland. It also has the Council of Europe. Between those two bodies, there is a really substantial set of laws and principles to which any constitutional government should adhere.

The European Court of Justice, just after the Hungarian election, handed down its pending case against Hungary concerning Hungary’s abolition of LGBTQ rights. In that judgment, Commission v. Hungary, the Court said that Article 2 of the Treaty on European Union—that’s the provision requiring member states to honor democracy, the rule of law, and human rights—actually has an independent legal force above and beyond other violations of European law.

That gives us a framework for thinking that there is a set of standards outside the national governments that they have to adhere to in order to be a constitutional democracy in good standing. The European Court of Human Rights also has an additional body of law that can be used to stabilize these governments.

So what I’ve been suggesting is a different conception of the rule of law. You can have the rule of law as the Venice Commission and Human Rights Watch understand it, which is to say, you just look at the national law and ask, “Is it following national law?” If you’ve been through all these years of autocratic capture, national law is awful. Or national law is designed to keep the autocrats in place.

If you’re in a place like Europe—or, actually, the same works with Latin America and the Inter-American Court system—you’ve got transnational law that also binds your country. That actually counsels the restoration of democracy. If you violate national law in order to bring your country back into alignment with transnational law, that is what I call the rule of law writ large. You’re not violating the rule of law. You’re resolving a conflict-of-laws problem, as lawyers would say, between national law and the European standards to which all these countries have pledged themselves and which are legally binding.

So, we should understand this as an ordinary conflict-of-laws problem. What happens when you’ve got two laws in a legal system that clash with each other? You’ve got to resolve that somehow. This is a standard conflict-of-laws problem where you resolve the conflict in favor of European law, and that gives you the wiggle room, in some sense, to violate national law as long as you’re following these standards. And this goes back to one of your earlier questions: What constrains these new democrats—let’s call them democrats for now, the people who just won the election? What prevents them from simply engaging in a power grab? The answer is that they’re constrained by these transnational standards. There is a rule of law that they are accountable to. As long as that’s true, and as long as the transnational organizations pledge to work with these countries through the transition, I’m much less worried about the violation of national law than I would be otherwise.

Make Orbán Poor Again—Not Necessarily a Prisoner

US President Donald Trump and Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán arrive for a working dinner at the NATO Summit in Brussels, Belgium on July 11, 2018. Photo: Gints Ivuskans / Dreamstime.

Many Hungarians understandably demand accountability for corruption, abuse of power, and constitutional dismantling under the Orbán government. Yet democratic transitions have often struggled to distinguish legitimate accountability from political revenge. How can a new government pursue meaningful legal and political accountability while preserving due process, judicial impartiality, and the rule of law that it seeks to restore?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: This is a very important question. Right after the election in Hungary—and also in Poland several years ago—the first reaction was simply joy. “Oh my God, we’ve gotten rid of them. We have this chance to start over. We have this possibility of democratic renewal.” People were dancing in the streets of Budapest. Hungarians are not always an optimistic lot. 

I keep saying that one of the reasons why I moved to Hungary, learned this crazy language, and decided to focus on Hungary was that when they translated Winnie-the-Pooh into Hungarian, the most important character became Eeyore the donkey. It was completely changed in the translation, and Eeyore is really depressive. Everything is kind of awful. So there’s a kind of national tendency to be suspicious of people who are too optimistic. Yet, after this election, it was just amazing. As many of my friends wrote to me—I couldn’t be there for the election—it was like a totally changed country. It was just amazing. So, there’s this kind of euphoria. Then what starts to happen is that people remember what the prior government did to them.

We’re now seeing people writing. By the way, if you want to follow Hungary, Facebook is the place. We’re seeing a lot of people writing: “The Orbán government deprived me of my career. The Orbán government shut down my business. The Orbán government prevented my kid from getting into college. The Orbán government made me leave the country.” You see all of these things as the cost of dictatorship, which was real for many people.

Now you’re seeing that Péter Magyar promised during the campaign that this would no longer be a country without consequences. He said there would be consequences for the people who stole democratic government in Hungary. Now there’s this debate about what those consequences should be. You do see an increasing number of calls to take Viktor Orbán and his inner circle and put them all in jail. That’s not what Péter Magyar, so far at least, has talked about.

From what I can tell from his pronouncements—and I must say I agree, if this is what he intends—he wants to disqualify them from coming back into government again. That’s an absolutely reasonable militant-democracy move. This is what happened after World War II, when neo-Nazi groups were prevented from governing across Europe. By the way, communist groups that promised to overthrow the government were also banned.

There has to be a sense that if you’re an enemy of democracy, you can’t stand for election again. That’s a perfectly reasonable thing to do. There’s always a question about how far down you go, which of Orbán’s people were simply carrying out orders and would carry out the orders of any other government, and which people were really the engineers. But it’s a small country. That’s the first thing.

The second thing is that Orbán’s government was not a government that engaged in massive crimes against humanity or war crimes. Yes, perhaps against refugees and asylum seekers. That was where the carnage was, and that’s a separate matter. But with regard to Hungarians, it was mostly a matter of depriving people of their livelihoods, and it was mostly a matter of stealing all the money in sight. So, my slogan has been: “Make Orbán poor again.” Claw back the assets that they spent all those years stealing.

Now this has also been one of Péter Magyar’s priorities. As part of the next round of constitutional amendments, there’s an amendment on the floor of parliament to establish something called the National Asset Recovery Authority. Along with parliamentary committees that have already started work, it would be tasked with figuring out what happened to all the corruption in the Orbán regime. Who benefited? Where did all this money go?

The budget is now deeply in debt. The oligarchs around Orbán, his family, and his close circle are all massively rich. They stole public funds, so the goal is going to be to claw back those public funds and make them poor again. That’s revenge enough. I would not go the route of criminal prosecutions and prison because, once you start talking about depriving people of their liberty, you’re really in a different world—one in which not only do you need due process protections, but you also need to be able to convict them of crimes that existed at the time they were committed. So, I’m in favor of disqualification and disgorgement as kind of my slogan: keep them from coming back, take away all the assets they stole, and be done with it.

Fight Corruption, Build a Big Tent, and Take People Out of Fear

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.

Hungary has frequently served as the laboratory of democratic backsliding, with institutional innovations later appearing elsewhere. As countries across Europe and beyond confront increasingly sophisticated forms of executive aggrandizement, should Hungary now also become a laboratory for democratic recovery? Which lessons from Hungary’s experience do you believe have the greatest comparative significance for democracies facing similar trajectories?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: I’m a Hungary specialist, so I always think Hungary is a laboratory for everything interesting. But here’s the thing: I do think it’s a really interesting model for democratic recovery.

We can start with elections. One of the dilemmas with elections in autocratic systems is that the autocrat, the autocrat’s party, and its cronies spend a lot of time delegitimizing the opposition. They also rig the electoral system. So, it becomes very difficult to change power through elections. That’s really what autocracy means. The question is how you achieve a change of government in a peaceful, lawful manner. This is where Hungary provides a really good lesson.

First of all, Péter Magyar is a very unlikely candidate. He was a member of Orbán’s party for 20 years. He broke with the party in February 2024. Before that, very few Hungarians knew who he was. He essentially emerged out of nowhere because there was a corruption scandal in Hungary. What had happened was that the president of the country, allegedly with the support of the justice minister, engineered a pardon for a man who had covered up a pedophilia scandal in a state school.

Orbán’s government had been presenting itself as “Mr. Christian Europe,” defending children and all that kind of stuff. Once people realized they were pardoning pedophiles, this became a moral crisis for the government. Viktor Orbán responded by firing the justice minister, whom he said had recommended the pardon, and by calling on the president to resign, which she did. These were the only two women in Orbán’s governmental orbit. Suddenly, he had an all-male cabinet again.

At that moment, Péter Magyar stepped out of obscurity into the public spotlight and said, “Viktor Orbán, how dare you hide behind women’s skirts?” Macho thing, right? To understand why he did that, it’s important to know that this is where the story becomes very personal. At the time, he was going through an acrimonious divorce from the justice minister, Judith Varga. He had emerged from that marriage—and every woman I know finds this immensely creepy—having secretly taped their dinner conversations in order to have dirt against her in the divorce. During those conversations, she also exposed some of the corruption of the Orbán regime.

So he emerges from all this and this is not a promising start. It starts to raise the broader question—we’re in the middle of the Graham Plattner scandal in the United States at the moment—of how abusive these people are who suddenly become charismatic political figures. So I was skeptical from the beginning, given this background. He comes out of the marriage, gallantly defends his wife and the president who had just resigned, and then uses the tapes to say, “I know all about the corruption in the Orbán government, and we need to get rid of it.” That attracts a crowd. Then, in February 2024, he suddenly realizes, “Geez, I can actually cobble together a party and run in the June European Parliament elections.”

Which he does. He attracts crowds with his anti-corruption message. He cobbles together a party. I don’t think he knew half the people who were on his party list. They stand for election, and that’s when it becomes evident that there is so much anger at the Orbán government and such a desire for a new face. It’s a center-right face. This is a center-right country. You’re not going to get a left-wing victory out of this electorate except under very unusual circumstances.

Suddenly, in the European Parliament election, he gets one-third of the vote. You can build something out of nothing, and it was all centered on corruption. That became the theme. The first lesson, then, is: don’t campaign on left-right issues. Corruption was not something unique to the left. It’s not like campaigning on gay rights—which, much as I believe in them, is divisive in a center-right country. Nor was it campaigning on immigration, which is the far right’s hot-button issue.

He campaigned on corruption, and then he began saying: corruption is what has deprived you of all the things you expect the state to provide. The healthcare system is falling apart. You know that because you go to hospitals and they’re simply not up to standard. The transportation system is terrible. Public transit breaks down all the time. Your schools are failing. Why? Because they stole the money. That became the foundation of his campaign. He stayed relentlessly on that message: they stole the money, and that’s why you don’t have services. And how do you recover what the state should be providing? You recover your democratic voice and get rid of the autocrats. He stayed on that message for two years.

Let me just say a couple more things. That’s one lesson. If you build a big tent around a political message that is neither left nor right, you can attract support across the political spectrum. Péter Magyar also very carefully studied the electoral system. He’s a lawyer. They’re all lawyers in Hungary. As a law professor, I love that because it means I understand how they think. He clearly understood how the electoral system worked. Rural votes were where all the action was. If you could win the countryside, you could win the election.

Under the Hungarian electoral system, there was a tipping point where, if you reached a certain number of rural votes, you received bonus seats that produced constitutional supermajorities. So, Péter Magyar spent two years campaigning in villages. Sometimes he visited four, five, six, even seven villages in a single day. There’s a wonderful election map showing everywhere he went and comparing those places with the areas that voted for Orbán and those that voted for Magyar. Overwhelmingly, the villages he visited voted for him.

He would arrive with no security and tell people, “You don’t have to live in fear. We should not live in fear in this country.” Because one thing autocrats do—and we’re seeing this now in the United States—is to wield the power of the state. If they decide to go after you, they can crush you through criminal prosecutions, tax audits, or by making sure your family loses access to social benefits.

I had one friend who had lived abroad for a while, and suddenly those years disappeared from his pension calculations, cutting his pension in half. The state can do all kinds of things to individuals if they stand up to it. So, people retreat. They begin to treat politics the way they treat the weather. It’s terrible today, so I’ll put on a raincoat, but I’m not going to try to change it because I can’t. You have to bring that passive population, captured by fear, back into the active electorate.

The Magyar rallies mattered not only because of what he said. He talked about everything I’ve just described. But he also sang patriotic songs, recited the poetry everyone learns in grade school, waved the Hungarian flag, and projected patriotism. That was crucial for winning conservative voters in the countryside. Most importantly, though, he kept saying, “We shouldn’t live in fear.”

As people came to those rallies, they saw that their neighbors were there too. That emboldened them to bring in others who had still been hiding from politics. The rallies became moments when people could finally see that everyone else felt exactly as they did—that the Orbán regime had become intolerable. All of this is a way of saying that you can build an election campaign around a centrist message focused on corruption and state dysfunction.

You have to build a big tent. You have to bring people out of the defensive crouch they adopt under autocracy, where they’re simply trying to stay beneath the radar of a government that can crush them through the machinery of the state. Once you’ve built that kind of political force, you can win. What Péter Magyar ultimately did was to win the countryside and hit that tipping point. It’s like winning the lottery. Suddenly, he has 53 percent of the vote and 71 percent of the seats in parliament. Then you’re living in a completely different political world.

Just one last thing. In Brazil, the United States, and Poland—other cases where aspirational autocrats were defeated through elections—the margins of victory were very narrow. That meant the incoming governments had much less room to remove the autocratic holdovers left behind by their predecessors. Sure enough, in Brazil we see Bolsonaro’s son leading in the polls. He was recently damaged by a financial scandal, but absent that, it looked as though he would surely have won. Bolsonaro’s movement remains strong enough to return. We’ve had the re-election of Donald Trump. And PiS remains very strong in the polls in Poland, and we still don’t know how things will unfold there.

In other words, unless you break the cycle of autocrat-democrat —which always occurs along a declining trajectory for democracy because the new democrats lack the strength to dismantle the autocratic capture left behind by the previous government—the autocrats simply come back and deepen the process. That’s why you need this kind of overwhelming electoral victory. That’s what Péter Magyar’s victory teaches us, and it’s something other countries should aim for.

There’s going to be a second part to this story: Will Magyar succeed in overcoming all of these autocratic roadblocks without installing himself as the new autocrat? That’s where we are now. I think the signs are optimistic. But I’m also a little nervous, because any political power without checks is potentially devastating. When you have this kind of parliamentary majority and you’re dismantling the existing checks while saying, “Look, in the future we’re going to have more checks,” that’s a very vulnerable moment. We’ve all got to keep our eyes on the prize here. Is Hungary going to come back? We hope it will—and that it will become a model.

The First Years Will Determine Whether Democracy Truly Returns

Finally, if you were advising Hungary’s new democratic leadership today, what would you identify as the three most urgent priorities during the first years of democratic reconstruction? And perhaps even more importantly, what mistakes must democratic governments avoid if they hope not merely to remove an autocrat but to build a constitutional democracy capable of enduring long after today’s political moment has passed?

Professor Kim Lane Scheppele: Okay, that’s hard. The first thing is that, in the Hungarian system—and this is where every system is going to be a little bit different—you have to draw what Viktor Orbán himself would call a power map. Where is power concentrated? Where are the choke points? 

In the Hungarian system, the most important choke point is the Constitutional Court. If I were Péter Magyar, I would have gone after the Constitutional Court first, rather than the presidency and many other offices, because that’s really where everything funnels together, and it’s going to be his biggest roadblock. So I would say the first priority is figuring out how to deal with the Constitutional Court. I think there are ways to do that. For example, changing its jurisdiction by law so that it can’t review many of the things the government is about to do. I also think the idea of putting a court above it has merit. There are a lot of possible approaches, but the Constitutional Court would be the first priority.

The second priority is putting checks on the new government. I think those checks can come in several different ways. Take this National Asset Recovery Authority, for example, which they’re setting up to investigate how state money was stolen. My concern is that the draft proposal doesn’t build in judicial review. It needs checks on these essentially unlimited prosecutorial powers.

Then there’s the ordinary judiciary. I mentioned the Constitutional Court, but I didn’t talk about what happened to the ordinary judiciary in Hungary. It’s much easier to fix than it is in Poland. The way they captured the judiciary in Hungary was by appointing the court presidents, appointing enough friendly judges on every court, and giving the court presidents the power to assign any case to any judge. Most judges in Hungary are still independent. If you get rid of the court presidents and deal with that small group of friendly judges on each court, you don’t have to replace the entire judiciary as you would in Poland, where you’ve got 3,500 judges. Getting rid of the court presidents alone would do a great deal to restore judicial independence. Then you need to build judicial checks into some of the new institutions that the Magyar government has created.

The third priority is that—not immediately, but not too far into the future—they need to revisit the election law, because it was designed to produce these constitutional supermajorities. Hungary needs to return to a proportional representation system. That has to be put in place so that the Magyar government can guarantee that, even if it is reelected, it won’t come back with another two-thirds majority. You need to make all of these changes while they still have this parliamentary majority. But you also need to reassure the public that the next election will not allow any single party to dominate the system like this again.

So, my top three would be: reform the Constitutional Court, restore the ordinary judiciary by building checks throughout the system, and then change the election law.

Professor Michael Shifter.

Prof. Shifter: Anti-Establishment Politics, Not Ideology, Drove Colombia’s Election

Colombia’s 2026 presidential election has reignited fundamental debates about populism, democratic resilience, institutional legitimacy, and the future of representative democracy in Latin America. Is the country experiencing a conventional ideological shift, or does the election reveal a deeper transformation in democratic politics? In this ECPS interview, Professor Michael Shifter argues that Colombia’s election was driven less by ideology than by widespread anti-establishment sentiment rooted in persistent insecurity, weak state capacity, and public frustration with successive governments’ failure to deliver results. Examining the rise of security populism, the erosion of political moderation, the resilience of Colombian democratic institutions, and the evolving relationship with the United States, Professor Shifter offers a nuanced assessment of Colombia’s political trajectory and its broader implications for comparative studies of populism and democratic governance.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Colombia’s 2026 presidential election marks one of the most consequential political turning points in contemporary Latin America, raising fundamental questions about populism, democratic resilience, institutional legitimacy, and the future of representative government. The election of Abelardo de la Espriella, following the historic presidency of Gustavo Petro, has frequently been interpreted as evidence of a regional shift from the left toward the populist radical right. Yet such an interpretation, while politically intuitive, risks overlooking the deeper structural forces reshaping democratic politics across the hemisphere. Is Colombia witnessing an ideological realignment, or does the election reveal something more profound about the changing nature of democratic representation itself? As insecurity, organized crime, institutional distrust, and dissatisfaction with political elites intensify across Latin America, electoral competition increasingly appears to revolve less around competing ideological projects than around public demands for effective governance, security, and political renewal.

Few scholars are better positioned to interpret these developments than Professor Michael Shifter, Adjunct Professor at the Center for Latin American Studies (CLAS) at Georgetown University and Senior Fellow at the Inter-American Dialogue. For decades, his scholarship has examined the intersections of democratic governance, state-building, political violence, US–Latin American relations, and institutional development. In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Shifter offers a nuanced interpretation of Colombia’s election that challenges conventional narratives about ideological polarization and instead places anti-establishment politics at the center of democratic change.

Professor Shifter argues that the conventional interpretation of Colombia’s 2026 election as simply a shift from left to right overlooks a deeper transformation taking place in the country’s democratic politics. “The conventional narrative… is that we’re seeing a turn to the right… I think that’s only part of the story,” he explains. “If we focus only on that, we’re missing something more profound and more fundamental,” namely “profound discontent, widespread anger, and a strong anti-establishment sentiment.” In his view, Abelardo de la Espriella’s victory represents not merely a rejection of Gustavo Petro’s left-wing government but the continuation of the same anti-establishment dynamic that first brought Petro himself to power in 2022. “It is not simply a shift from the left to the right,” he observes, “but a continuation of anti-establishment politics.”

Throughout the interview, Professor Shifter explores how declining confidence in traditional political parties, the rise of social media-driven campaigning, persistent insecurity, and frustration over governments’ inability to deliver tangible results are transforming democratic competition throughout Latin America. He explains why contemporary electoral behavior is increasingly shaped by emotional appeals rather than coherent political programs; why “security populism”has become an increasingly powerful electoral force; why the apparent rise of a unified global populist right often conceals significant ideological differences among its leaders; and why Colombia’s political center continues to erode under the combined pressures of institutional failure and rejectionist voting. At the same time, he cautions against reducing contemporary Latin American politics to simplistic ideological categories, emphasizing instead the diversity of populist experiences across the region.

Despite his concern about growing populist pressures, Professor Shifter ultimately offers a measured assessment of Colombia’s democratic future. One of the most important—and, in his view, most overlooked—developments of the Petro years was “the resilience of Colombian institutions: Congress, the courts, civil society, and the press.” While acknowledging the serious challenges posed by insecurity, polarization, and anti-establishment politics, he concludes on a cautiously optimistic note, expressing confidence that Colombia’s democratic institutions remain capable of preserving constitutional order and maintaining effective checks and balances in the years ahead.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Michael Shifter, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

The Real Story Is Colombia’s Deep Anti-Establishment Anger

President-elect Abelardo de la Espriella and Vice President-elect Jose Manuel Restrepo.
Credential-giving ceremony to President-elect Abelardo de la Espriella and Vice President-elect Jose Manuel Restrepo by the National Electoral Council in Bogota, Colombia on June 25, 2026. Photo: Anamaria Mejía / Dreamstime.

Professor Shifter, welcome! Let me begin with your recent New York Times essay, in which you describe Colombia’s 2026 presidential election not simply as a swing from left to right but as “a leap into the void.” Why do you believe this election represents something more profound than an ordinary alternation of power? What does it reveal about the current relationship between democratic representation, institutional legitimacy, and public demand for radical political change?

Professor Michael Shifter: The conventional narrative in Colombia, as well as in other recent elections in Latin America, is that we’re seeing a turn to the right, from governments of the left to governments of the right. I think that’s only part of the story. If we focus only on that, we’re missing something more profound and more fundamental, which is illustrated very clearly by Colombia’s recent election. That is the existence of profound discontent, widespread anger, and a strong anti-establishment sentiment.

If we look at the Colombian case in particular, we can go back to the elections four years ago, in 2022, with the election of Gustavo Petro from the left. It’s also worth remembering that his opponent in that election was Rodolfo Fernández, who was himself something of a political outsider and largely unknown. He lost the election, and Petro won, marking the first time Colombia had elected a leftist government. But that outcome clearly reflected widespread discontent with the establishment political parties and their failure to address the country’s profound problems.

Petro did some things that were positive. He put his finger on some legitimate grievances. He increased the representation and inclusion of previously excluded groups—Afro-descendants, Indigenous communities, women, and others who had long lacked access to political power in Colombia. That was an important achievement. But he also leaves behind a rather problematic record, particularly on the issue of security. We now see Abelardo de la Espriella tapping into that same discontent and anti-establishment sentiment, which is quite widespread in Colombia and elsewhere, and capitalizing on it very effectively and skillfully, principally through social media—not through a political party or any traditional organizational structure, but through social media.

So, I don’t think this is simply a turn toward a more conservative political option. It is, rather, a reflection of something much deeper: an anti-establishment sentiment that, in some ways, represents a continuity with Gustavo Petro. It is not simply a shift from the left to the right, but a continuation of anti-establishment politics.

Colombia demonstrated remarkable resilience under Petro, and the central question—which I try to highlight in that essay—is whether Colombia will be able to demonstrate the same resilience over the next four years under De la Espriella.

Frustration with Failed Governments Is Reshaping Democratic Competition

You argue that contemporary Colombian politics is increasingly driven by anti-incumbent sentiment rather than ideological commitment. To what extent does Colombia illustrate a broader transformation of democratic politics in which electoral behavior is shaped less by coherent political programs than by frustration, distrust, and a desire to punish governing elites?

Professor Michael Shifter: What we are witnessing, not only in Colombia but across Latin America and even globally, is politics that is driven and shaped less by coherent political platforms than by emotional appeals that tap into how people feel about not receiving the results that candidates promised on security, economic issues, and governance. It is also driven by the growing frustration that fundamental problems are not being addressed effectively or successfully. That’s precisely what we’re seeing in Colombia, and that’s why there was both an anti-incumbent and an anti-establishment sentiment, which De la Espriella very skillfully and astutely capitalized on to win the presidency.

Now, of course, we’ll have to see how he governs. But, more importantly, we’ll see whether Colombia’s institutions and civil society are truly up to the challenge of keeping in check any temptation to go beyond the country’s constitutional and institutional limits. That’s what we’ll be watching very closely. Hopefully, De la Espriella will prove to be someone who respects democratic norms and institutions. If so, that will lessen the burden on Colombia’s Congress, the courts, civil society, and the press. But we’ll simply have to wait and see.

Traditional Parties Failed to Learn the Lessons of 2022

Abelardo de la Espriella and Gustavo Petro emerged from opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, yet both successfully presented themselves as anti-establishment outsiders. Does this suggest that contemporary Colombian populism is increasingly ideologically flexible—less a coherent doctrine than a performative strategy built around anti-elite rhetoric, moral polarization, and promises of national redemption?

Professor Michael Shifter: Of the two candidates and political figures—Petro on the left and De la Espriella on the right—the more ideological is Petro. After all, I don’t think they should be put in the same category. Petro has a long political history. He’s been in Congress for many years, and he was the mayor of Bogotá. He is clearly an ideologue of the left.

De la Espriella, by contrast, is someone who is new to politics. He has held no political office and has no administrative experience. He saw an opportunity to embrace positions that are considered to be on the right. But he is less of an ideological figure than someone who is simply very skillful and, much like Donald Trump in some ways, adept at capitalizing on public discontent and championing issues that resonate with the Colombian people—in the case of 2026, the deterioration of the security situation in Colombia.

They belong to different categories of leaders. But, both of them were very astute in sensing anti-establishment sentiment and riding that wave. Petro rode it in 2022, and De la Espriella did so, this year. 

What I find astonishing—and unfortunate—is that some of the more centrist and traditional political parties and figures were not sufficiently responsive to the message that Petro sent in 2022. That message was that they had to become serious about addressing the country’s persistent problems of violence, inequality, and the lack of state presence across much of the country. They didn’t do that. Even if you look at the platforms in 2026, there was not sufficient attention to, or focus on, the social agenda. That is a clear lesson of Petro’s presidency that was not adequately heeded by the more traditional political figures and parties.

Strengthening State Capacity Remains Colombia’s Unfinished Democratic Project

Colombia, protest.
Protesters march peacefully through Bogotá calling for the impeachment of President Gustavo Petro and opposing the government’s proposed reforms on April 21, 2024. Photo: Anamaria Mejía / Dreamstime.

More than two decades ago, you warned that Colombia’s central challenge was not simply defeating insurgent groups but strengthening state capacity and public institutions. Looking back at your earlier work on state-building, do the 2026 election results suggest that Colombia’s institutional weaknesses remain fundamentally unresolved despite years of security gains?

Professor Michael Shifter: This is the perennial question in Colombia, one that nobody has been able to answer adequately: Why has it been so difficult to extend an effective and legitimate state presence across much of the country over such a long period of time? Is it a lack of capacity? A lack of political will? This remains a subject of enormous debate, and I don’t think there are any definitive answers.

It’s important not to be too sweeping in our criticism or assessment of Colombia, because one has to recognize that there were some gains—although they were too modest—under Uribe in the early 2000s, and later under the government of Juan Manuel Santos, who served as president for eight years and oversaw both a peace agreement and a peace process. Those efforts did address some of these long-standing structural problems, but clearly not enough. They were not completely successful, nor have they been sustained.

So, it’s important to acknowledge the progress that has been made, while also recognizing that it has not been sufficient and that something fundamental has remained lacking. Many of the issues I identified years ago remain unresolved today. In 2000, I wrote a report on Plan Colombia, which, on balance, I considered a positive initiative, although I was critical of many of its elements and aspects. In that report, I emphasized the importance of strengthening state capacity across much of the country. Unfortunately, the conclusions of that report remain remarkably relevant 26 years later.

Colombia’s Crisis Reflects Both Structural Weaknesses and Government Failure

Your scholarship has long emphasized that persistent violence, inequality, and weak state presence have undermined democratic legitimacy in Colombia. How much of today’s electoral volatility reflects unresolved structural problems rather than the successes or failures of any single government?

Professor Michael Shifter: One has to recognize that it’s a complex picture. There is a combination of longer-term, chronic structural problems in Colombia that persist, coupled with the inadequate—or simply poor—performance of particular governments, in this case the Petro administration. There certainly was a rejection of Petro by many voters. Many of them had concerns about De la Espriella, but they really did not want continuity—another four years of the Historic Pact, the leftist coalition created by Petro and from which Iván Cepeda, the candidate of the left, emerged.

So, I think it’s a combination of dissatisfaction with the government’s performance. Petro promised a great deal. He was a very good campaigner and a good orator, but he wasn’t very effective at governing or delivering results. That is clearly part of the explanation for why his candidate lost, although it should be emphasized that it was by a razor-thin margin. This was not a decisive victory for De la Espriella. The country is divided in two, and it’s important to keep that in mind.

But it also reflects a broader sense of discontent with yet another government that, like those preceding Petro, failed to deliver on its promises, as well as a desire to try something different—to see whether someone like De la Espriella, who had no record in government and about whom relatively little was actually known, might offer an alternative. Many Colombians seemed to think: we tried the traditional political parties, and that didn’t work very well; then we tried a leftist alternative, and that also wasn’t very successful. So, let’s go in another direction. I think that was the way many Colombians approached their vote.

Populism Is Often Better at Making Promises Than Delivering Them

Throughout Latin America, citizens increasingly appear willing to prioritize effectiveness over procedural liberalism. Are we witnessing the rise of a populist conception of democratic legitimacy, in which leaders claim direct authorization from “the people” to bypass institutional constraints if they can promise security, economic stability, and public order?

Professor Michael Shifter: This is unquestionably a global trend. People increasingly give priority to results and tangible benefits as a source of political legitimacy. It’s not that democratic norms or institutions are unimportant; rather, they are simply not as important as achieving results. We’ve seen this reflected for many years in polling and surveys across Latin America. When people are asked whether they would be willing to sacrifice some democratic safeguards in exchange for a government that effectively addresses security, economic problems, and other pressing issues, many of them say yes.

Perhaps the clearest example is El Salvador, where you have a president who enjoys approval ratings of 80 to 90 percent despite showing very little regard for democratic or human rights norms. So, I don’t think this phenomenon is peculiar to Colombia. Of course, we’re seeing it in my own country, the United States. I’m from the United States, and this fits very well with that analysis and interpretation. People want results, and they are willing to sacrifice some democratic protections in order to achieve them.

In that sense, populist legitimacy is defined by the ability to deliver. The problem is that populism, by its nature, is often very good at making promises but much less effective at delivering on them. As a result, the legitimacy gains that initially appear possible often fail to materialize because populist leaders—we see this in the case of Hugo Chávez in Venezuela—promise dramatic transformation but ultimately fail to govern effectively.

Look at Venezuela today. One can go back even before Maduro, to Hugo Chávez, who governed for 13 years and made enormous promises of transforming the country. Today, Venezuela is in a disastrous situation and is now trying to cope with the aftermath of these horrific and tragic earthquakes. That situation derives from the populism of Hugo Chávez, who was a great orator, promised a great deal, but did not know how to govern and failed to deliver.

So, populism generates legitimacy only if it produces concrete results that people can actually experience. But, with very few exceptions, I don’t think populism has a particularly strong record of providing that kind of legitimacy.

Law-and-Order Leaders Still Have to Deliver Results

The 2026 campaign unfolded amid worsening insecurity and renewed concerns about organized crime. How do rising levels of violence reshape democratic competition? Do they create fertile ground for law-and-order populism or penal populism, where candidates transform fear into demands for strongman leadership, militarized security policies, and executive concentration of power?

Professor Michael Shifter: I think no one denies that we’re seeing, in country after country across Latin America, the spread of what I would call security populism, driven by the expansion of organized crime and violence in many countries, including some that, until recently, were relatively safe and secure but are now facing enormous threats to public order. This tends to favor candidates with a more right-leaning agenda—the so-called mano dura, or iron-fisted, approach. We’re seeing political figures capitalizing on that. We saw it in Chile, we saw it in Ecuador, and, of course, we saw it in Colombia. We’ll also see what happens in Brazil in October. We saw it in Peru with the recent election of Keiko Fujimori. This issue, which is becoming increasingly salient and a greater concern for many voters, tends to favor candidates and political figures who advocate law-and-order policies and come from the political right.

That being said, they still have to deliver. They have to produce results. And I’m not sure why people assume that these political figures are necessarily going to be more effective than those from the center, or even the left, in reducing criminality and violence in their countries. If you set Bukele aside—which reflects the very particular circumstances of El Salvador, a small country with the specific phenomenon of gangs rather than the massive transnational organized crime you see in Ecuador, Colombia, Mexico, or Brazil, which are very different cases—you are not seeing many successful examples of these right-wing governments.

We’ll see what happens in Colombia, but certainly in Ecuador, which has become more militarized and where there has been greater cooperation and joint military operations with the United States, you’re not really seeing results. If there are no results, people will once again become frustrated and disappointed, and they’ll begin looking for other alternatives. Those alternatives could come from any point on the ideological spectrum.

I don’t think this is fundamentally an ideological question. It’s a question of effectiveness and efficacy. Some of these right-wing governments that are now coming to power may prove to be quite short-lived because people are impatient. They want results quickly, and when they don’t see them, they begin looking for other alternatives. So, there may be an immediate political effect stemming from the crisis of insecurity and organized crime in some countries, but it’s important to be cautious about interpreting this as a long-term trend that will necessarily reshape politics in Latin America for many years to come.

The Central Lesson of Petro’s Presidency Is That Competence Matters

Colombia's President Gustavo Petro.
Colombia’s President Gustavo Petro. Photo: Dreamstime.

You have argued for many years that Latin American democracies often struggle to reconcile demands for social inclusion with effective governance. Looking at Gustavo Petro’s presidency, what lessons should future reformist governments draw about the relationship between ambitious political agendas, institutional constraints, and governing capacity?

Professor Michael Shifter: The central lesson of Gustavo Petro’s presidency is that competence matters. It’s not simply about ideology. You may have your heart in the right place. You may take important steps to include people who have long been excluded from power and incorporate them into the political process, and that’s an important achievement. But it’s not enough.

You also have to demonstrate governing capacity and competence, and that was lacking during Gustavo Petro’s presidency. His candidate carried the burden of that record into the 2026 election. Again, even though the election was extremely close, and even though there was a very strong political party—perhaps the strongest political party in Colombia today is the left-wing Pacto Histórico, which Petro created—the party machinery worked only up to a point. In the end, it was not enough to secure victory.

So, there does need to be a reformist agenda to tackle issues such as inequality, informality, and the other longstanding problems that have bedeviled Colombia and much of Latin America. But I’m not sure this was truly a reformist presidency. It was an administration that brought new voices to the table, and that deserves a great deal of recognition and credit. I’m hopeful that future Colombian governments will preserve that aspect of the Petro presidency while combining it with a genuine commitment to reform and a greater capacity to address the country’s long-term challenges. I don’t think the Petro administration was very successful in that regard, because achieving those goals requires a level of competence that this president did not demonstrate.

The Global Populist Wave May Be Losing Momentum

Donald Trump’s endorsement of Abelardo de la Espriella inevitably invited comparisons with the global circulation of right-wing populist ideas. To what extent are contemporary Latin American populisms becoming embedded within transnational populist networks that share anti-left, anti-elite, nationalist, and security-centered narratives?

Professor Michael Shifter: There has unquestionably been an increase in, and strengthening of, globalized networks. Latin American populist right-wing leaders have participated in meetings in Europe and elsewhere alongside other leaders of the right. But it’s important to make two qualifications. 

First of all, there may well be increased networking, greater contact, and more sharing of ideas and experiences. I’m not sure, however, that this has enormous significance in terms of effective policy coordination, because I don’t really see many signs of that. One thing is to talk about shared ideas and shared visions. Another is to work together effectively to address the problems these leaders articulate in their campaigns, and I don’t see much evidence of that happening, either within Latin America or in cooperation with other figures around the world, including President Trump.

The second point is that I’m not sure where this global swing toward populism stands at the moment. There have been some setbacks. We see the most striking case in Hungary. We also see changes in Donald Trump’s relationship with Prime Minister Meloni in Italy, and so on. So, the picture is much more complex. One really has to examine it on a country-by-country basis. I’m simply not sure where this trend stands at the moment. It may well be losing some momentum.

Again, there is a great deal of emphasis on performance, media, and projecting a sense of unity. But I don’t think that will be sufficient to generate broader support for these ideas unless these leaders can actually produce results. I don’t think they have been very effective in doing so. Donald Trump is a clear example. People are having a difficult time, and the promises he made during his 2024 campaign have not been fulfilled. As a result, there is considerable disillusionment, and every indicator we have—from opinion polls to other studies—points in that direction.

So, I’m just not sure about the strength or durability of this trend. Moreover, if you scratch beneath the surface and move beyond the superficial similarities, you find enormous differences among these leaders. To describe them as a single bloc, even within Latin America, is misleading. If you compare Bukele with Milei, for example, José Antonio Kast is very different from either of them, yet people tend to place him in the same basket as part of this broader shift to the right. But they are, in fact, very different. Daniel Noboa, President of Ecuador is also very different. A deeper analysis would show that there are at least as many differences as similarities among these so-called right-wing populist political figures.

Not All Populists Belong in the Same Category

Your work on Latin American populism has consistently cautioned against treating all populist leaders as a single phenomenon. How does the current Colombian experience refine our understanding of the similarities—and equally important differences—between left-wing and right-wing populism across the region?

Professor Michael Shifter: One thing we can say about the Colombian example is that De la Espriella, although he clearly had extensive contacts and some support from establishment figures during his campaign, and of course now that he’s president-elect, really is an outsider with virtually no political experience. So, we can make a lot of distinctions. Nayib Bukele was the mayor of San Salvador. José Antonio Kast served in Congress for many years. Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil was a member of Congress for many years. Even Javier Milei served in Congress. The backgrounds and biographies of each of these leaders are very different.

Obviously, Hugo Chávez was a military leader. Each of them comes from a different background, and that shapes, quite significantly, the way they approach the presidency and the way they govern.

De la Espriella is someone about whom there is a genuine debate among analysts. To what extent does he really hold strong ideological convictions, or is he simply a very skillful opportunist who saw an opening in Colombia, recognized widespread discontent, knew how to capitalize on it, and proved extremely effective in using social media and his considerable talents as a showman?

That is quite different from José Antonio Kast in Chile, who is not a showman but rather a more traditional conservative, clearly on the right, with long-standing ideological convictions. The same could be said, in different ways, of Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil.

It’s understandable that there is a temptation to group all of these leaders together. That is valid in some respects. But, it’s important to look beneath the surface, because then you begin to see very different positions.

Take Javier Milei, for example, the president of Argentina, who is probably the leader most closely aligned with Donald Trump and who openly admires him. His foreign policy is largely in lockstep with Donald Trump’s. Yet they hold vastly different positions on economic and trade policy. Milei is a champion of free markets, whereas Donald Trump is a protectionist. Trump has said that his favorite word in the English language is “tariffs.” He calls it the most beautiful word, and, if there is one thing he has consistently believed in throughout his life, it is tariffs. That is diametrically opposed to Javier Milei’s economic philosophy. So, it is important to take these differences into account as well.

Traditional Parties Lost Credibility Because They Failed to Deliver

One striking feature of Colombia’s recent politics is the apparent collapse of the political center. What explains the declining electoral appeal of moderate, institution-oriented parties across Latin America, and is this erosion primarily driven by structural socioeconomic factors, institutional failures, or changing political communication?

Professor Michael Shifter: Political communication, particularly social media, is undoubtedly a new and growing factor shaping Latin American politics and global politics. I don’t think it favors centrist, sensible, moderate political options or political figures. Instead, it tends to favor the extremes and to radicalize sectors on both the hard left and the hard right, which contributes to increasing polarization. I think that is certainly a factor. It’s not the only explanation, but it is one that is hard to deny and has become increasingly important over the last five to ten years in shaping politics.

But I think the more important explanation is simply the failure of these traditional parties, which became calcified and discredited in the eyes of their constituents because people felt that they were not performing well, were not fulfilling their promises, and were not delivering results. As a consequence, people became disillusioned with those options and increasingly turned toward the more extreme alternatives that we are seeing across many countries.

What we’re also seeing in elections—and I think this is important to emphasize—is the growing importance of the anti-vote, or rejectionist vote. More and more people voted for De la Espriella because they feared the left remaining in power under Iván Cepeda and his agenda. At the same time, many people voted for Cepeda because they were fearful of what De la Espriella would mean for Colombia.

We saw the same pattern in Peru. A very strong anti-Fujimori vote explains why Roberto Sánchez, the candidate of the left, actually received more votes within Peru than Keiko Fujimori. She won because she received more votes from Peruvians living abroad. But much of her support also reflected fear of the left, fear of Roberto Sánchez, and fear of communism coming to Peru.

We’re seeing the same dynamic in the Brazilian election as well. There has always been an anti-vote that helps explain electoral outcomes, but it strikes me that it is becoming an increasingly important factor in explaining how voters make their decisions.

Bogotá and Washington Are Likely to Enter a Period of Closer Cooperation

US-Colombia
Photo: Dreamstime.

For many years you have examined the interaction between domestic political developments and US–Latin American relations. How might the return of a Trump-aligned government in Bogotá reshape bilateral relations, regional diplomacy, and Colombia’s role within the wider Western Hemisphere?

Professor Michael Shifter: There’s no question—and really no debate—that we’re going to see a stronger alliance between Bogotá and Washington, at least while Trump is in power and has control of Congress, which he does today, than we saw over the last four years under Gustavo Petro. There is going to be greater engagement and closer cooperation between the two governments. It’s not only President Trump, but there are also members of the US Congress, including Senator Bernie Moreno of Ohio and representatives from Florida, who are very enthusiastic about this new presidency and very relieved that they will not have to deal with Iván Cepeda. They see significant opportunities for deeper cooperation and collaboration.

That said, it’s important to be cautious. It’s easy to get carried away and become overexcited, but caution is warranted. Trump no longer has the political capital he enjoyed when he first came to power in the United States. He has lost a considerable amount of support, and many people have become disillusioned with him. Moreover, it appears most likely that Democrats will control the House of Representatives, and possibly the Senate as well, next January, meaning that De la Espriella will have to work with a Democratic-controlled Congress.

There may be a degree of irrational exuberance, to borrow an old phrase, surrounding this new relationship. It would be wise for the new government in Bogotá to take advantage of its alignment with Trump. There are clear benefits for Colombia. At the same time, however, it should avoid turning the relationship into an entirely partisan issue. For many years, Colombia has enjoyed bipartisan support in the United States. It would be extremely unfortunate and very damaging for both Colombia and the De la Espriella administration—if the relationship became tied exclusively to one party in an increasingly polarized US political environment, particularly one that is itself changing. It’s changing in a direction where Trump may no longer enjoy the complete control and dominance that characterized the first year and a half of his presidency.

I also think it’s important for Colombia to exercise caution from a regional perspective in its relations with other Latin American governments. It’s true that a number of leaders are now aligned with Trump, but there are also sharp differences among them. Some of them are hedging their bets. They are aligning themselves with Trump because they don’t want a confrontation or a fight with him—or with the United States—and that’s completely understandable. But Trump has also shown that he is not an entirely trustworthy partner. He can change his mind and turn on leaders at any moment.

It’s also unclear how many meaningful resources the United States will actually make available to assist governments struggling with an array of challenges, including organized crime and security. So, there are a great many caveats, and I hope the De la Espriella administration will develop a more sophisticated approach to managing its relationship with Washington.

Democratic Political Culture Remains the Strongest Defense Against Populism

Finally, Professor Shifter, stepping back from Colombia itself, what broader lessons does the 2026 presidential election offer for scholars of populism, democratic resilience, and political representation? Does Colombia represent an exceptional national case, or has it become an important window into the wider transformation of democracy taking place across Latin America and beyond?

Professor Michael Shifter: The 2026 elections in Colombia are very instructive in a number of ways. One is that they underscore the cost of failing to address long-standing problems by traditional, establishment-oriented, more centrist political parties and leaders.

This is what happens when you fail to heed what the electorate is telling you, which is clearly what voters were telling political leaders in 2022, if not earlier. Yet the inability to adjust and take those messages into account proved very costly. Colombia ended up with two options at opposite ends of the ideological spectrum, even though many Colombians were not particularly happy with either of them. So, that is one important lesson.

On the more positive side—and I really want to emphasize this because I think it was perhaps the most underreported story of the Petro presidency—is the resilience of Colombian institutions: Congress, the courts, civil society, and the press. To me, that’s the other major lesson. 

Populism is emerging in places like Costa Rica, where one never would have expected it to emerge. It also emerged in Colombia, and there were various attempts by President Petro to go beyond the limits of his office, to interfere in government, and to disregard certain constraints and checks on his power. It certainly wasn’t for a lack of trying. What was striking, however, was the degree of pushback and resistance that Colombia demonstrated. That is an important lesson: democratic political culture is not trivial.

Countries that possess that democratic experience and tradition are going to be tested, just as Colombia was tested between 2022 and 2026, and they will continue to be tested in the years ahead. But I’m confident they will be able to preserve the democratic order and keep checks and balances intact, despite all the pressures and strains that will inevitably arise.

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar.

MEP López Aguilar: The Return Regulation Is a Violation of EU Fundamental Values

As the European Union implements its new Migration and Asylum Pact amid growing populist pressures, fundamental questions are emerging about the future of European constitutionalism. In this exclusive interview with the ECPS, MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar argues that the Return Regulation represents “a violation of EU fundamental values” and warns that migration governance is increasingly being reshaped by radical-right narratives. Reflecting on the erosion of the cordon sanitaire, the “Melonization” of European migration policy, and the normalization of exclusionary rhetoric, MEP López Aguilar contends that “migration is a fact, not a crisis,” while insisting that “asylum is a right” that must remain protected. The interview offers a timely reflection on populism, democratic backsliding, human rights, and the future of European integration.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

At a moment when migration has become one of the most polarizing issues in European politics, the European Union finds itself confronting a profound constitutional dilemma. The implementation of the Migration and Asylum Pact, together with the Return Regulation, has reignited fundamental debates about sovereignty, solidarity, fundamental rights, and the future of European integration. Once conceived as a legal and political project founded upon supranational cooperation, shared responsibility, and the protection of human dignity, the European Union is increasingly facing accusations that it is redefining migration governance under the growing influence of populist radical-right politics. Against a backdrop of geopolitical instability, demographic change, electoral realignments, and increasingly contested debates over migration, the central question is no longer simply how Europe manages migration, but whether it can continue to do so without compromising the constitutional and humanitarian values upon which the Union itself was built.

Few policymakers are better positioned to reflect on these developments than Juan Fernando López Aguilar. A Member of the European Parliament (MEP) representing Spain’s Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE) since 2009, López Aguilar previously served as Spain’s Minister of Justice and chaired the European Parliament’s Committee on Civil Liberties, Justice and Home Affairs (LIBE) between 2019 and 2024. Trained as a constitutional lawyer and widely recognized as one of Europe’s foremost authorities on constitutionalism, the rule of law, migration governance, and fundamental rights, he has played a central role in shaping EU migration and asylum legislation over the past decade. His long engagement with the negotiations surrounding the Migration and Asylum Pact places him at the heart of one of the Union’s most consequential constitutional debates.

In this wide-ranging conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), MEP López Aguilar argues that the Return Regulation represents far more than a technical adjustment to migration management. Rather, he contends that it constitutes “a violation of EU fundamental values” and departs from the legal architecture painstakingly constructed through the Migration and Asylum Pact. Rejecting the growing trend toward externalizing asylum responsibilities, he warns that “migration management cannot come at the expense of the rule of law,” insisting that migration must be addressed through a genuinely European response grounded in “shared responsibility and binding solidarity” rather than bilateral arrangements with third countries.

Throughout the interview, MEP López Aguilar situates the transformation of European migration policy within broader processes of democratic and political change. He argues that the European People’s Party’s (EPP) increasing cooperation with radical-right parties has effectively dismantled the traditional Brandmauer or cordon sanitaire, allowing what he calls the “Melonization” of European migration policy to become mainstream. In his assessment, attempts to externalize migration control, normalize return hubs, and securitize asylum are inseparable from the wider normalization of populist narratives within European politics. At the same time, he cautions that Europe risks undermining its own credibility as a global defender of human rights through increasingly visible double standards in both migration and foreign policy.

Perhaps most strikingly, MEP López Aguilar rejects the assumption that migration itself constitutes Europe’s principal challenge. “Migration is a fact, not a crisis,” he argues, insisting that “reducing migration to zero is not only impossible—it is stupid.” Likewise, he defends asylum as a non-negotiable legal obligation, declaring that “asylum is a right. It must be respected, no matter the cost.” For MEP López Aguilar, the real danger lies not in migration itself but in the gradual erosion of Europe’s constitutional identity through the normalization of policies and rhetoric that once belonged exclusively to the political fringes. The interview therefore offers not merely a critique of current migration policy, but a broader reflection on populism, democratic backsliding, constitutionalism, and the future of the European project itself.

Here is the revised version of our interview with MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Migration Management Cannot Come at the Expense of the Rule of Law

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar is interviewed by ECPS’ Selcuk Gultasli in his office at the European Parliament on July 2, 2026. Photo: Umit Vurel.

Juan Fernando López Aguilar, welcome! You argue that the new Return Regulation marks a constitutional rupture rather than merely another migration reform. Where, in your view, is the precise red line beyond which migration management ceases to be compatible with the European constitutional project?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: The red line is the lack of a European scale of response and the lack of consistency with EU fundamental values. Let me explain. We worked really hard to fulfil the mandate of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union, which is part of the Treaty of Lisbon. Article 67 and Article 77 make it clear that there should be not only an EU migration and asylum policy but also a migration and asylum system based on EU law. It wasn’t easy because migration is obviously the most divisive issue around, and it contaminates not only asylum policy and lawmaking in the member states but also policymaking at the European level. Yet there should be a European migration and asylum system based on law, and we worked for two consecutive mandates—10 years—to make it happen by combining eight pieces of legislation.

The underlying idea is that there should be a European-scale response. You know why? Because no member state can deal with it on its own. It cannot be only a Greek problem when migrants arrive on the Greek islands in the Aegean. It cannot be an Italian problem when migrants arrive on the Pelagic Islands, such as Lampedusa, in the Mediterranean, coming from the African shore. Nor should it be a Spanish problem that we receive 47,000 people a year on the island of El Hierro in the Canaries, coming from Senegal, Mauritania, Guinea-Bissau, and Guinea-Conakry. No, there should be a European-scale response, based on shared responsibility and binding solidarity.

That is the idea behind the Migration and Asylum Pact. But what is the idea behind the Return Regulation? It is to give the member states back the competence to negotiate bilateral agreements with third-country rulers so that, in exchange for money, they keep migrants out of our sight. Is it worthy? Is it consistent with EU values? My answer is no.

There is no European-scale response in Melonizing Europe, in Melonizing migration policy. Giving member states the authority to negotiate bilaterally with whomever is willing to be paid to keep migrants out of our sight in a so-called return hub—which is, let’s face it, a concentration camp for an unlimited period of time—should not happen under EU law. That is inconsistent with the very idea of the Migration and Asylum Pact. And, of course, in my view, it amounts to a denial of EU fundamental values, which are rooted in the principle that the EU is bound by international law, including human rights and international humanitarian law, which encompass shelter, rescue, and disease.

So, the conclusion is that this Return Regulation is not only a mistake; it is a violation of EU fundamental values and of EU law as enshrined in the Migration and Asylum Pact.

Reducing Migration to Zero Is Not Only Impossible—It Is Stupid

Only two years ago, you defended the Migration and Asylum Pact as the best achievable European compromise. Today, you argue that the Return Regulation fundamentally betrays European values. Did Europe cross a legal threshold, or has the political center itself shifted toward positions once associated exclusively with the far right?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Both. We worked so hard to put in place a migration and asylum system based on EU law precisely because it is difficult and deeply divisive. It is obvious that migration is geographically divisive. The perception in the Baltics is not the same as it is in the western member states of the European Union, let alone along the southern external border—namely Greece, Italy, Malta, Cyprus, or Spain—not only in the Mediterranean but also in the Canaries. Different member states have different views of the problem, and they also have different views of the importance of a European-scale response.

Still, it was possible precisely because the balance of forces in the previous mandate of the European Parliament made it possible. Of course, it took time. It was only after a long and difficult struggle that, at the end of the previous mandate—in December 2023—we finally reached an agreement, and the entire package of regulations was ultimately adopted in June 2024. That is why, two years later, in June 2026, it has finally entered into force. But what has happened since the 2024 elections? Yes, we now have a balance of forces leaning to the right and the far right more than ever before.

For the first time in the history of the European Parliament, the EPP, together with three far-right political groups, accounts for 60% of the vote, marginalizing the second-largest group, the Socialists, as well as the Greens, Renew, and the Left. The far right is dominating the House and shaping policy. And that means a great deal when we talk about migration and asylum policy.

It means that a negative vision of migration is dominating the political landscape in Europe. In my view, that is a terrible mistake. Migration is not a threat, let alone a crisis. Migration has always been a fact. It is a permanent fact in the history of mankind. Should we panic because migrants are hoping or longing to make it to Europe? We should not panic. We can handle it. We can handle it as long as we do it together, according to EU law, and without betraying EU values. If we do it that way, then we may succeed. If we do it separately, member state by member state, in contradiction with EU values, then we are doomed to fail. And, of course, trying to reduce migration to zero is also doomed to fail. It is not only impossible, but also stupid.

Return Hubs Without Legal Safeguards Betray European Values

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar. Photo: Umit Vurel.

Supporters argue that external processing restores public confidence without abandoning humanitarian obligations. You contend that it instead erodes the Union’s constitutional identity. Why are they wrong?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Because once you authorize returns to third countries with no meaningful link to the returnees, you are prepared to transfer human beings—their families, vulnerable people, trafficked women, and minors—to countries where they do not belong, where it is impossible to ensure that their fundamental and human rights are respected. It is equally impossible to ensure that the Charter of Fundamental Rights is implemented because there is no obligation to apply the Charter when they are in Egypt, Niger, Tunisia, or Rwanda. Yet this has become the obsession of too many around the table of the Council of Ministers of the Interior of the European Union and also within the European Parliament. That is absolutely inconsistent with the obligation to put in place an EU-scale response that is bound by EU law and consistent with EU values.

You’ve got to make sure that fundamental rights are observed and respected. Even when you return people, there has to be a meaningful link, whether it is a country of transit or a country of origin. But it is unacceptable to send them back anywhere, as long as you are paying the ruler there to keep them out of your sight for an unlimited period of time.

Once they are in the European Union—and this is also, of course, subject to criticism—you may hold them in a retention center, in a so-called migration facility, for two years. That’s much too long. But once they are in a third country with no meaningful link to the returnees, there is no time limit. They can be held there forever, stockpiled forever. Is that acceptable? Is that consistent with EU law? The beauty of the Charter of Fundamental Rights lies precisely in the fact that it protects all human beings, not only European citizens. That’s the beauty.

Anyone under EU law is protected by the Charter of Fundamental Rights, whether you are a European citizen or not. If you, a Turkish citizen, are on European soil, you are also protected by the Charter of Fundamental Rights. It is not the case that it does not apply to you because you are not a European citizen. No, you are protected by EU law, by the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights, because you are under EU law and on European soil. That is the beauty of it. And that is also denied by the fact that people are being returned to third countries to which they do not belong, simply for the sake of paying a ruler who is willing to accept them. That is absolutely, in my view, in contradiction with the very idea of European law and the European Charter of Fundamental Rights.

Treating Migration as a Threat Is a Terrible Mistake

You write that asylum is no longer treated as a fundamental right but increasingly as an administrative inconvenience. Has the EU effectively redefined refugees from rights-holders into security risks?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: The EU is a union of 27 member states. But the majority, for now, is leaning in that direction. It is allowing a negative approach to migration to prevail as the dominant political view: the denial of migration, the belief that migration can be reduced by discouraging migrants, and the idea that you can simply send them back.

As the far right chanted in a stunning ovation following the adoption of the Return Regulation in the plenary session in Strasbourg—and I quote—”Send them back, send them back, send them back.” The idea that you can send back all migrants in the European Union is preposterous. It is self-damaging and ultimately self-defeating. The European Union is ageing. We are losing weight. We are losing GDP in comparison with the world’s major powers and global competitors. We are also losing population in comparative terms. So we need to change our stance on migration. 

In Spain, there is an alternative. In Spain, there is a positive view of migration because there is a progressive government. For one thing, Spain has, for several years now, surprisingly become the number one engine of growth and job creation. Spain is growing four times as fast as Germany, France, and Italy, while creating jobs and making economic growth compatible with social justice. That means the minimum wage is rising, pensions are rising, social protection is expanding, and social services also benefit from the contribution of migrants who are willing to pay taxes in order to finance the services needed to fulfil social rights and fundamental rights altogether. So, Spain is demonstrating that there is an alternative. Yet Spain is not only being minoritized; it is actually isolated in this approach. The prevailing view is a negative one, and that approach is both self-defeating and self-damaging for the future of the European Union.

Double Standards Are Undermining Europe’s Global Credibility

Row of EU Flags in front of the European Union Commission building in Brussels. Photo: VanderWolf Images.

The European Union often presents itself as a global normative power. Can Europe continue to lecture the world on human rights while simultaneously exporting asylum responsibilities beyond its own borders?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Of course, I share the ambition that the European Union should grow—and grow fast—and become a relevant global actor. Of course, I agree that the European Union has to exercise hard power, not only soft power. I also agree that the European Union should join forces to build a truly credible and effective European diplomacy and combine its strengths so that it can become a meaningful actor in the global arena—one that is heard, respected, and worth listening to when engaging with other global powers. I mean talking to the United States, talking to Russia, talking to China, talking to India. That is what becoming global means. So, yes, I share that ambition. And yet I am also among those who criticise the fact that the European Union is still far from reaching that goal.

On the contrary, I am deeply critical of the evidence that the European Union is indulging in double standards. It is absolutely unforgivable that the European Union has tried to be hard and tough on Russia after Putin’s aggression against Ukraine while saying nothing about the genocide in Gaza and doing nothing about the genocide in Gaza. In my understanding, it is absolutely obnoxious and unacceptable that the Trump administration has imposed unilateral sanctions on members of the International Criminal Court who dared to call genocide a genocide.

And the European Union has not activated the Blocking Statute to protect members of the International Criminal Court who happen to reside in the EU. The International Criminal Court is located in The Hague, in the Netherlands, within the European Union. They should be protected by EU law. Yet the European Union says nothing, so as not to disturb Trump—the abuser, the bully, the bullying abuser in the global arena. That double standard, of course, damages the European Union’s reputation and credibility. I say this with sadness. I am not complacent.

I say it harshly because I am a fighter. I would like to bring about change so that we overcome those contradictions and double standards and actually gain leverage in the global arena by setting an example, by leading through example. That should be the idea. That should be the inspiration. Of course, I hope we learn how to do that in the foreseeable future.

There Is No Brandmauer Left in European Politics

You argue that the agreement became possible because the European People’s Party increasingly relies on cooperation with the radical right. Has the so-called cordon sanitaire effectively collapsed in migration policy?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Absolutely. There is no cordon sanitaire anymore. In German, they call it BrandmauerEs gibt keine Brandmauer mehr (there is no firewall anymore) in the European Union. There is no cordon sanitaire whatsoever. I have seen it with my own eyes. I have chaired the Committee on Civil Liberties and Human Rights for 10 years now, and I am the spokesperson of the S&D Group on constitutional affairs. And what do I see? Ever since we voted to invest the second European Commission with the votes of the EPP, the S&D, the Liberals, and the Greens, from that very moment—which marked the beginning of this parliamentary legislature—a so-called new majority has emerged, the Neue Mehrheit (New Majority), as they call it in German. It consists of the EPP together with three far-right political groups. They call themselves Conservatives, Patriots, and Sovereignists.

They are the majority. They are the ruling majority in the Parliament, in the Commission, and in the Council. And, of course, that means a great deal. In practical terms, it means there is certainly no cordon sanitaire anymore. None whatsoever. The EPP has broken all barriers against the rise of the far right. On the contrary, it is cooperating actively with the far right, and it is serving the far right’s self-congratulatory agenda. We saw that in the European Parliament when the far right, together with the EPP, secured the majority to adopt the Return Regulation, which was notorious and obnoxious in my view. They all stood up in a standing ovation and began chanting, “Send them back, send them back.” That is the picture. No Brandmauer, no cordon sanitaire anymore.

Progressives Have Been Better at Diagnosis Than at Therapy

Many observers argue that mainstream parties have not defeated populism but instead absorbed its migration agenda. Has populism already won the migration debate without necessarily winning elections?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: I’ll tell you something. I am a progressive. I am a Spanish socialist, and I have been involved in socialist- and progressive-led platforms and think tanks for many years now. That means I have taken part in countless roundtables, seminars, symposiums, congresses, and conferences of progressive parties dealing with the populist agenda and the rise of populism. My first point is this: we progressives are very good at diagnosis, but we are very bad at therapy. We are very good at analyzing what is going on, but we have not been effective so far in reversing the rising tide of populism.

Of course, we do know what populism is about. Populism is a way of simplifying complexity. It is a way of lying to people, of infantilizing them by scapegoating individuals or entire groups in order to exploit the anger directed against those who are being scapegoated. The idea is simple. You’re in pain, you’re in trouble, you’re in disarray, you feel discomfort. Are you angry? I tell you something: I don’t have a solution for you. I have something better. I have someone for you to hate, and I will point my finger at someone for you to hate.

Of course, migrants are the number one choice. But it can also be Muslims, Black people, LGBTQ people, or women, because men are supposedly becoming impoverished as women advance. That is also a very common idea on the far right. You, a young man, are told that you have fewer opportunities than your father did because your father did not have to compete with so many empowered women. Because women are empowered, you have fewer opportunities. And then young people move to the far right all over the place. It’s very tempting, but it’s stupid.

Of course, it should be challenged. It should be fought against. But still, populism is on the rise. Of course, it has heavily contaminated the migration agenda. Populism has managed, first and foremost, to spread fear everywhere: We have been invaded. Migration is out of control. Sooner or later, you’re going to be replaced. Europe is not going to be white and Christian by tomorrow evening. By tomorrow evening, Europe is going to be Black and Muslim. Don’t you see? They are invading us. They are out of control. You have to react. You have to do something about it.

That kind of fear is spreading everywhere. Of course, it is evil rhetoric. It has to be fought against. It has to be dismantled. To begin with, it is not true. It is not true that migration is massive. It is not true that migration is out of control. It is not true that it is a conspiracy. It is not true that Europe is changing color or religion. It is simply not true. It is simply a lie. But still, it works.

That is why we progressives have a challenge: not only to be good at diagnosis, but also to become good at therapy. What should we do to reverse this trend? That is a huge challenge for progressive thinking and for progressive policymaking.

The Return Regulation Europeanizes the Meloni Model

Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen meet in Brussels, Belgium on November 03, 2022. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.

You have repeatedly criticized what you call the ‘Melonization’ of European migration policy. To what extent has Giorgia Meloni succeeded in redefining the migration agenda not only in Italy but across the European Union itself?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Take a look at the Return Regulation. What happened? First, Meloni tried to strike a deal with neighbouring Albania in order to establish return hubs outside Italy through an agreement based on an exchange of money. But then, the Italian courts struck down what is, in my understanding, a sick idea. They rejected the initiative on the grounds of Italian law.

Meloni then went to the European Commission and essentially said: “Hey, listen, I need an umbrella. I need an EU umbrella for this because the Italian umbrella is not enough. The Italian courts are rejecting the legality of what I’m trying to do with Albania. We should put it into EU law.” And that is how they Melonized the return policy. They effectively elevated the Italian idea—the Meloni idea—to the European level. But the bad news is that the Return Regulation contradicts the very principle that migration and asylum legislation at the European level should be based on shared responsibility and binding solidarity. There is no shared responsibility in negotiating with a third-country ruler to establish a return hub financed by your own budget. There is no European added value in legalizing and Melonizing return policy and legislation.

There is simply no added value. It is left to the member states to negotiate. Of course, Spain is not compelled to do that. Spain is not doing it, as long as the Spanish government remains in progressive hands. But others may try. They may ask, “Why shouldn’t I pay the ruler of Tunisia? Why shouldn’t I pay some African dictator so that I can fly some Black people out of my country?” Of course, as I have already explained, the idea itself is evil-minded. To begin with, I heard many times during the negotiations: “Fly them to Rwanda.” And my question was always: “Why Rwanda?” Only because you think it makes no difference as long as they are Black. As long as they are Black, you think it doesn’t matter whether they are in Rwanda. It doesn’t matter whether they come from Mali, Niger, or Uganda—you simply fly them to Rwanda because, supposedly, it makes no difference there as long as they are Black.

Is that not racism? Is it racist? Absolutely racist. You have to care about people, about human beings. You cannot fly a Malian or a Nigerian to Rwanda because there is no purpose. There is simply no point in flying them to Rwanda just because you are paying Paul Kagame, the ruler of Rwanda for 35 years now. That is a preposterous idea. And yet, that is the Melonization of return policy.

Asylum Is a Right That Must Be Respected, Whatever the Cost

The Commission argues that stronger returns are indispensable for preserving public support for legal asylum. Is Europe sacrificing liberal constitutionalism in an attempt to save political legitimacy?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Respect for asylum seekers must remain unwavering. The European Union is bound by international law, which includes both international humanitarian law and human rights. And, of course, the Geneva Convention relating to the protection of asylum seekers—the Refugee Convention—is international law, indeed one of the fundamental pillars of international law. So, yes, migration is a fact, not a crisis, not a threat. It is simply a fact. But you know what? Asylum is a right. It must be respected, no matter the cost, no matter what. It must be respected.

The problem is that there is now a prevailing idea within the current political landscape we have been discussing, one that is increasingly leaning to the right and the far right. That idea is that most asylum seekers are fraudulent. They are portrayed as economic migrants seeking better opportunities. According to this logic, they all have to be discouraged. Migrants are discouraged, and asylum seekers are discouraged as well. Because, as the ministers of the interior argue, most asylum seekers are actually fraudulent. They are not people being persecuted. They are not people whose physical integrity is at risk. They are simply people seeking better opportunities. So seeking asylum is presented as nothing more than legal advice given to them by their counsel. And they, too, have to be discouraged. That is deeply worrisome.

We should protect asylum seekers because that is part of the European Union’s identity and its commitment to human rights. It is both a fundamental principle and a legal obligation. Every member state, individually, is a signatory to the Geneva Convention. And the European Union itself is bound by international law, including international humanitarian law and human rights.

No Human Being Should Ever Be Described as Illegal

Disembarkation of 300 migrants from Libya from the German rescue ship Sea-Watch 3 in Pozzallo, Province of Ragusa, Italy, on June 9, 2022. Photo: Alec Tassi.

And lastly, you have warned that Europe risks normalizing practices that were once politically unthinkable. Looking beyond migration, do you see this normalization as part of a broader process of democratic backsliding within the European Union itself?

MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: We’ve got to care about it. I do care. I’m a fighter against that trend. I’ve always tried to stand up whenever I have seen signs of it unfolding before my eyes, here in the European Parliament and elsewhere. Of course, you can see that things are changing for the worse in the European Parliament in that regard as well. 

For instance, when I first came to the European Parliament, no one talked about illegal migrants. They spoke about irregular arrivals, but never about illegal human beings. Now it’s the new normal. You hear it a thousand times in every plenary session in Strasbourg. And you know what? No one notices anymore. No one stands up anymore and says, “Hey, listen, this is unacceptable. Are you talking about illegal human beings or what?” That’s unacceptable.

Migrants are not guilty because they tried, even in the worst of circumstances. Take, for instance, the boats coming to El Hierro in the Canary Islands. We receive 46,000 people a year in the Canaries, arriving by wooden boats departing from the western coast of Africa. It is the most perilous and deadliest route to the European Union. The Atlantic is much rougher than the Mediterranean. The waves are much higher in the Atlantic. And you know what? None of those trying to reach the European Union through the Canary Islands—because the Canary Islands are part of the European Union, absolutely—ignores the risk of perishing in the attempt, the risk of losing their lives. And still they try.

When they sink to the bottom of the sea, tragically, they are, in effect, saying, “Hey, listen, I’m dying, but still I had to try. I do not regret it because I had to try.” It’s terrible. That means a great deal. It means they are not taking a frivolous step, or trying to commit fraud, or trying to be troublemakers, or trying to create problems, or bring their problems to a foreign land. They are trying to do something with their lives out of despair. And that life is the only one they have. They are willing to sacrifice it for the sake of making it. That deserves respect.

The point I’m making is that the new normal is losing that human understanding of the tragedy I am describing. Instead, through aggressive rhetoric, those human beings are portrayed as illegal, as an invasion, as a threat to your security or to your identity. That is completely unworthy of the European Union. The European Union should not be like that.

So, I’m a fighter. Whenever I see that happening in the European Parliament, I react. But still, the question is: how long will it go?

Professor Aziz Huq.

Prof. Huq: The US Supreme Court Has Created the Conditions for Democratic Backsliding

As democratic backsliding increasingly unfolds through legal institutions rather than overt constitutional rupture, what distinguishes constitutional resilience from constitutional decline? In this wide-ranging interview with the ECPS, Professor Aziz Huq of the University of Chicago examines how populism, executive power, judicial doctrine, digital platforms, and artificial intelligence are transforming liberal constitutionalism in the United States and beyond. Drawing on comparative constitutional law, he argues that contemporary democratic erosion often proceeds “under the cover of law,” while warning that populists are developing their own constitutional vision. From presidential immunity and democratic backsliding to algorithmic governance and AI-driven power concentration, Professor Huq offers a timely and sophisticated analysis of democracy’s evolving constitutional challenges in the twenty-first century.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Across much of the democratic world, constitutional democracy is undergoing a profound transformation. Contemporary democratic erosion rarely arrives through military coups or overt constitutional rupture. Instead, it increasingly unfolds through courts, legislatures, executive decrees, and formally legal mechanisms that gradually weaken institutional constraints while preserving the appearance of constitutional continuity. At the same time, digital platforms and artificial intelligence are reshaping the public sphere, altering the production and circulation of political information, and redistributing power between states, private technology companies, and citizens. Together, these developments raise fundamental questions about the future of liberal constitutionalism, democratic resilience, and the capacity of democratic institutions to withstand both populist governance and technological disruption.

Few scholars have done more to illuminate these intersecting challenges than Professor Aziz Huq, Frank and Bernice J. Greenberg Professor of Law at the University of Chicago. One of the world’s leading authorities on constitutional law, democratic backsliding, judicial independence, executive power, and the constitutional implications of artificial intelligence, Professor Huq has produced influential scholarship that bridges American constitutional law with comparative democratic politics. His work has fundamentally reshaped scholarly debates on constitutional resilience, the institutional foundations of liberal democracy, and the legal mechanisms through which elected governments may gradually undermine democratic competition without abandoning constitutional forms.

In this wide-ranging conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Huq argues that understanding contemporary democratic backsliding requires moving beyond conventional labels such as populism or authoritarianism toward a more institutional analysis of incentives, constitutional design, and political time horizons. Drawing on Mancur Olson’s theory of the “stationary bandit,” he suggests that “the crucial question” is not simply whether a leader is populist, but “what the time horizon of a populist leader is.” In his view, democratic stability depends heavily on whether political leaders remain constrained by long-term institutional incentives or instead pursue short-term extraction of political and economic rents.

Turning to the United States, Professor Huq contends that “American democratic erosion is proceeding under the cover of law.” Rather than dramatic constitutional breakdown, he identifies legal innovations—including aggressive partisan gerrymandering, expansive presidential authority, and recent Supreme Court jurisprudence—as mechanisms through which democratic competition is being incrementally weakened. Most strikingly, he argues that “the Supreme Court has been responsible for creating the conditions for democratic backsliding,” particularly through its broad conception of presidential immunity and its endorsement of constitutional doctrines that facilitate the concentration of executive power.

Yet Professor Huq’s analysis extends well beyond the American case. He argues that “populists have developed their own version of constitutionalism,” challenging the assumption that constitutionalism necessarily remains synonymous with liberal democracy. Rather than witnessing the disappearance of constitutional government, he suggests, democracies may instead be entering an era in which competing constitutional visions coexist and contest one another. Simultaneously, the digital transformation of politics introduces an additional layer of constitutional complexity. While acknowledging that empirical evidence remains incomplete, Professor Huq warns that contemporary information ecosystems reward emotional engagement over deliberation, observing that “the shift from reasoning to emotion favors populist politics.” He also cautions that, despite its transformative potential, artificial intelligence is currently reinforcing rather than reducing inequalities, concluding that “AI is concentrating power rather than leveling the playing field.”

Ultimately, Professor Huq offers neither fatalism nor easy optimism. Instead, he presents a sober institutional diagnosis of democracy’s contemporary challenges while emphasizing that democratic renewal will require rebuilding effective constitutional constraints, representative institutions, and political organizations capable of responding both to populist pressures and to the unprecedented constitutional questions raised by the digital age.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Aziz Huq, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

The Crucial Question Is Whether a Populist Leader Has a Long or Short Time Horizon

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.

Professor Aziz Huq, welcome! Let me begin with your recent commentary, “The Orange Bandit.” In this commentary, you employ Mancur Olson’s distinction between “stationary” and “roving” bandits to argue that Donald Trump’s second presidency has shifted from a potentially durable governing project toward the short-term extraction of political and economic rents. How does this framework deepen our understanding of democratic backsliding beyond the conventional language of populism or authoritarianism?

Professor Aziz Huq: Mancur Olson was an important political scientist and economist who wrote an influential article explaining both the origin of states and the way states evolve into either dictatorships or democracies. Olson’s model, although a highly simplified one, offers us a way of thinking about the development of states and the ways in which they legitimate themselves over time in a fashion that I think is helpful both in the United States and more generally.

Olson’s basic model is that a state begins when a powerful force that has acted as a predator upon a population ceases to move around. It goes from being mobile to what Olson called a stationary bandit and starts extracting revenues, in the form of taxation, from a stable and geographically persistent population. That part of Olson’s model explains the origin of the state.

What’s relevant here is that Olson then identifies two different strategies that the stationary bandit can pursue. The first is to extract a relatively limited amount of revenue with the aim of maintaining long-term economic prosperity and stability, thereby enabling a high rate of revenue extraction over time, even if only a relatively small percentage of revenue is extracted in any given period. So, that is a strategy that depends upon having a long-time horizon.

The second strategy that Olson identifies is one in which the stationary bandit seeks to extract as much as it can in as short a period of time as possible. That strategy is obviously not stable, but it is likely to produce both economic deterioration and political instability over the medium term.

One thing we have seen in the second Trump administration is an acceleration of revenue- and rent-extraction activities on the part of the White House. This is underscored by reporting that appeared in the last two days, after the Project Syndicate piece that you mentioned, describing the president’s increase in assets between 2024 and the end of 2025. That reporting shows that his assets have increased by about $2 billion. Much of this comes from activities in the cryptocurrency and financial speculation space. Other parts come from deals forged either with foreign governments or through the facilitation of foreign governments via the larger Trump Organization.

What the piece argues is that what we are seeing in the United States is a transition from the first to the second form of Olson’s stationary bandit. We are witnessing a move from a stationary bandit—or a state—that has a long-time horizon and therefore is able to constrain itself when it comes to rent extraction, to one in which the incentives for constraint seem to have vanished.

What is useful about Olson’s model—not just for the American case but more generally for the study of populism—is that it foregrounds a specific and important question. That question concerns the time horizon of a populist leader. It encourages us, I hope productively, to think about why a populist leader might, at certain moments, have a long time horizon, in which they are relatively constrained in terms of revenue and rent extraction, while at other moments they may have a much shorter time horizon, in which case the incentives for restraint are much weaker.

American Democratic Erosion Is Proceeding Under the Cover of Law

Much of your scholarship argues that democratic erosion proceeds through constitutional and legal mechanisms rather than overt constitutional rupture. Looking at the United States today, which recent developments most clearly illustrate constitutional backsliding under the veneer of legality, and how has Trumpism transformed the American constitutional order in ways that may outlast Donald Trump himself?

Professor Aziz Huq: Let me give you two examples of forms of backsliding—or mechanisms of backsliding—that are presently unfolding in the United States under legal cover. The first is the reorganization of legislative districts, which are the units of representation within the national Congress, through a process known as gerrymandering. Gerrymandering involves drawing district boundaries in ways that make it almost certain that one party—the favored party—will win the election. Historically, gerrymandering has been constrained by a web of federal statutes and constitutional requirements. However, over the past 12 months, the Supreme Court has dramatically weakened those statutory and constitutional constraints, allegedly in the name of advancing democracy.

The president has pressed his political allies, first in Texas, then in Florida, and subsequently in other states, to aggressively gerrymander those states in favor of Republicans. The result is that the electoral map—initially in Republican-controlled states and then, in response, in Democratic-controlled states—has become one in which almost all districts are safely Republican or safely Democratic. In other words, politicians know in advance how those districts will vote because of their demographic composition, leaving very few genuinely competitive elections. This is a process that is producing, through formally legal means, an electoral map that is effectively glaciated and largely immune to changes in popular preferences. That is one example.

The second, much more recent example is that only last week, the US Supreme Court, in a case called Trump v. Slaughter, embraced a constitutional doctrine known as the Unitary Executive Theory. The Unitary Executive Theory holds that the president has virtually unlimited authority to remove almost all officials below him or her within the executive branch. The president has already exercised versions of the authority this theory confers by dismissing a large number of regulatory officials and prosecutors within the Department of Justice. Prosecutors within the Department of Justice who remain subject to the threat of dismissal have come under immense pressure to bring cases against individuals whom the president has identified as political opponents, including James Comey, the former Director of the FBI, and Letitia James, the Attorney General of New York State.

That is an example of a legal theory that the Supreme Court has embraced under the rubric of democracy and a particular interpretation of the Constitution—an interpretation that I find unpersuasive, to put it mildly. Its direct and significant consequence has been to facilitate the weaponization of prosecutorial power. And I know you know the Turkish case very well—but we also know from many other cases of democratic backsliding that once prosecutions become weaponized, the space for democratic contestation narrows dramatically.

History Is Made by Both Long-Term Structures and Unpredictable Moments

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

Your work suggests that democratic fragility emerges from the interaction of long-term structural forces—including constitutional design, widening economic inequality, and identity politics—rather than isolated political events. To what extent should Trump’s rise be understood as a symptom of these deeper pathologies rather than their principal cause?

Professor Aziz Huq: This is a large question that verges on the philosophical. If you speak to historians, some will emphasize what French scholars call la longue durée—the tectonic, slow-moving social and economic forces that serve as the engines of historical change. Others will point to discrete events—for example, the COVID pandemic or 9/11, which, in recent memory, have been important turning points for the United States—as the principal drivers of change. Still others might point to so-called great men, particular individuals who appear to play an outsized historical role.

My own view is that both of these accounts capture part of the truth, albeit to different degrees and at different moments. I think that understanding our current political moment requires attention both to the underlying structural forces—which, as you suggest, are economic in nature and also concern cultural change—and to the particular and unpredictable effects of discrete individuals and discrete events.

For example, it would be difficult to explain Trump’s second electoral victory in 2024 without taking into account one medium-term structural factor: the rise and subsequent decline of inflation in the wake of the COVID pandemic. At the same time, it would be a mistake to explain that outcome without paying attention to discrete events, particularly the failed assassination attempts against President Trump and the manner in which he responded to it. Both of these factors are important. The weight one assigns to each is, however, in part a reflection of one’s underlying philosophical commitments.

There Are More Parallels Than Divergences Between the US and Other Backsliding Democracies

Comparative studies of democratic backsliding often highlight attacks on courts, electoral administration, the civil service, and independent oversight bodies. Does the United States now resemble trajectories previously observed in countries such as Hungary, Poland, Turkey, or India, or does its constitutional architecture produce a distinct American model of democratic erosion?

Professor Aziz Huq: There are more parallels than divergences between the United States and the other jurisdictions you mentioned. In the United States, the insulation of the independent bodies you listed has always been imperfect. The courts are probably the most constitutionally entrenched of those institutions. However, the appointment mechanism for judges to the federal bench in the United States has, since the 1780s, run through the White House and the Senate. As a consequence, it has always been politicized, and there has never been a moment in American history when the US Supreme Court, in particular, as the country’s apex court, has been meaningfully free from the partisan forces that have shaped and directed its agenda. So, the Supreme Court has always been political. It just so happened that, at the beginning of his second term, Trump inherited a Court with six justices aligned with his party, including three whom he himself had appointed.

With respect to the civil service and other independent bodies, there is a degree of insulation that is not embodied in the constitutional text but rather in federal statutes. At least this administration has been quite successful in attacking—or simply ignoring—those statutory constraints. One important way in which the United States does differ from other jurisdictions that have experienced democratic backsliding, however, is its federal structure. In this respect, it is unlike Hungary, unlike Poland, and unlike Turkey, as I understand it, although somewhat similar to India.

Critically, under the Constitution, responsibility for election administration is largely diffused across the state and local levels and is therefore insulated from direct federal control. What this means is that federal efforts to seize control of election administration face extraordinarily high transaction costs. This is why Trump has been pushing the SAVE Act in Congress, which represents an effort to partially federalize—arguably unlawfully—a number of aspects of election administration. This is also why there has been discussion of deploying immigration agents—ICE agents—to polling stations around the country in November. These are the pathways being pursued because the more direct instruments available in countries such as Hungary and Poland are not necessarily available in the United States due to its federal electoral structure.

Presidential Immunity Has Changed the Constitutional Balance of Power

Donald Trump
Photo: Aleksandr Potashev / Dreamstime.

In “The Counterdemocratic Difficulty and your work on judicial independence, you argue that courts shape democracy not merely through landmark decisions but through their broader institutional role. How should we evaluate today’s Supreme Court—and the federal judiciary more broadly—in either constraining or facilitating democratic backsliding during Trump’s second presidency?

Professor Aziz Huq: The Supreme Court has been responsible for creating the conditions for democratic backsliding, not only through the mechanisms that I’ve already identified, but also through other decisions that have made democratic backsliding much easier and much more attractive.

The most important of those decisions is one that the scholarship you mentioned does not address because it postdates that work. This is the Supreme Court’s 2024 decision granting the president a broad, almost absolute degree of immunity from criminal prosecution. That decision arose from a case involving the president’s role in the violence of January 6, 2021, and the associated efforts to derail the certification of the 2020 presidential election results. The effect of this presidential immunity ruling, which formally applies only to the president but, in practice, is likely to extend to and shield much of the conduct of the president’s subordinates, has been profound.

This is why you now see presidential advisers willing to argue that all federal agents are effectively immune from legal constraints. Stephen Miller, for example, made precisely that claim only days before ICE agents shot and killed Alex Pretti in Minneapolis, Minnesota. This is why you see not only a sense of immunity on the part of the president, but also a broader community of federal officers and agents behaving as though the law no longer applies to them. I think responsibility for that consequence—and, arguably, moral responsibility for the harms, including the deaths that have followed—must be laid at the feet of the Supreme Court that issued the immunity ruling.

Populists Have Developed Their Own Version of Constitutionalism

Across Europe and North America, populist leaders increasingly portray constitutional checks, independent institutions, and the administrative state as obstacles to the authentic will of “the people.” Has constitutionalism entered a new phase in which its greatest challenge comes not from coups or revolutions but from democratically elected governments themselves?

Professor Aziz Huq: I would modify the question slightly and distinguish between, on the one hand, liberal democratic constitutionalism, which is coming under the pressure that you describe, and, on the other hand, new populist forms of constitutionalism.

I think we make an analytical mistake—or go analytically awry—if we do not take seriously the idea that the new wave of populists, from Hungary to Turkey, from India to Japan, and even to the United States, have developed their own version of constitutionalism. That version may or may not, in some of those jurisdictions, become a durable and long-term form of constitutional order. So, I do think that we are witnessing a change in the nature, or at least the potential, of constitutionalism as a style of government.

I also think that the liberal, individual rights-focused conception of constitutionalism—and democratic in the sense of enabling not only free political choice but also the revision and reconsideration of political preferences—is the defining characteristic of liberal democracy. Those ideas are coming under increasing pressure, not simply because of innovations in American constitutional theory, but because those innovations are being diffused. They are learned in one jurisdiction after first being developed and deployed in another. What emerges from this process is not the disappearance of constitutionalism, but rather something new: a different form of constitutionalism that has yet to assume a fully coherent shape, and one that many of us—I would certainly include myself among them—are still struggling to understand and to map.

The Shift from Reason to Emotion Favors Populist Politics

You have argued that digital platforms have become part of democracy’s constitutional infrastructure rather than merely private communication spaces. How are social media platforms, algorithmic amplification, and generative AI reshaping the dynamics of populism, democratic polarization, and constitutional governance?

Professor Aziz Huq: This is a very important question, but one on which the empirical evidence remains imperfect. We know that people, not just in the United States but around the world, increasingly obtain their news and information from social media, particularly from platforms such as TikTok and Instagram, where information is broken down into very small, highly digestible components.

We also know that many—though not all—social media algorithms are designed to recommend content not on the basis of its truthfulness, but according to its likelihood of generating further user engagement. These recommender algorithms tend to steer users toward increasingly radical forms of speech—politically radical speech, as well as speech that is radical with respect to cultural and ethical norms, particularly around questions of gender and sexuality.

What we do not yet have, however, is strong evidence about how what appear to be profound structural changes in the public sphere—and I use that term both in the technical sense employed by Habermas and in the ordinary sense that most people would understand—translate into changes in political behavior. We can clearly observe that the public sphere is changing, but the number of studies linking those transformations to changes in political behavior remains relatively small, and their findings are often inconclusive.

So, we have to be very careful, as scholars, when thinking about the relationship between changing structures of public communication, on the one hand, and changing patterns of political behavior, on the other. It does seem difficult to imagine, however, that the forces broadly described as populist would not benefit from this new kind of media environment. It is hard to see how they would not be advantaged by the abbreviation of communication, by the shift from reasoning to emotion, and by the outrage- and clickbait-driven structure of the information ecosystem through which people engage with and learn about the world.

AI Is Concentrating Power Rather Than Leveling the Playing Field

Photo: Dreamstime.

Your recent scholarship examines artificial intelligence through the lenses not only of procedural fairness and due process but also distributive justice. As AI becomes increasingly embedded in courts and public administration, how might these technologies either reinforce or reduce inequalities in access to justice, legal accountability, and the rule of law?

Professor Aziz Huq: One of the issues I’ve been thinking about concerns what happens when the state, and in particular its judicial apparatus, introduces or adopts new technologies such as generative AI and other predictive tools. How do these technologies change the way adjudication is delivered? How do they affect who has access to adjudication? And how do they alter the distribution of power between the state and private actors?

At present, what we see is AI tools being adopted primarily in contexts where the adopter is a relatively powerful, centralized actor. This is true in the private sector, but it is also true in the public sector, where the most significant applications that have been studied are found in criminal law, social control, and national security. These are all areas in which the state exercises coercive power to achieve its policy objectives, often in relatively opaque ways. Yet these are precisely the domains in which we are seeing the most rapid technological adoption. That suggests that the introduction of AI generally shifts power from private actors to the state.

At the same time, however, the state is becoming increasingly dependent on a very small number of private actors for the services it requires. For example, the American state functionally relies on Amazon Web Services for much of its computing capacity. It contracts with firms such as Palantir for many of its predictive capabilities. So, even as the state becomes more powerful, it is simultaneously empowering a relatively small coterie of commercial actors. This is perhaps the clearest in the case of Palantir, whose CEO, Alex Karp, has been very public about his governing philosophy. What you therefore have is a group of private corporate actors that has become increasingly influential while holding a very particular vision of the state and of its relationship to the state. What we have seen so far is a relative concentration of power, enabled by technology, in ways that are, at least on their face, not obviously normatively attractive.

On the other hand, although there are many proposals to use generative AI and other AI tools to empower actors who would otherwise be marginalized by the criminal justice system or by ordinary adjudicative processes, it is very difficult to identify examples of such projects being implemented and operating at scale. What this suggests is that, even if AI has the potential either to level the playing field or to make it more asymmetrical, in practice it appears to be making the playing field more asymmetrical.

Militant Democracy Cannot Simply Be Imported into the Digital Age

In “Militant Democracy Comes to the Metaverse?” you revisit the theory of militant democracy to analyze digital platforms. As generative AI accelerates misinformation, deepfakes, and synthetic political communication, should constitutional democracies reconsider traditional understandings of free speech, platform neutrality, and democratic self-defense without undermining liberal constitutional values?

Professor Aziz Huq: As digital platforms become increasingly important, it is inevitable that states will reconsider the ways in which they are regulated. The theory of militant democracy, which emerged in the 1930s in response to the rise of fascism in Germany and Italy, provides us with important intellectual resources for thinking about that challenge. Militant democracy, however, has had, at best, a mixed track record in Europe. It has produced more misfires than successes.

So, part of the purpose of the paper you mentioned is to caution against any wholesale importation of militant democratic ideas into this new context. Rather, we should learn from both the successes and the failures of militant democracy and think carefully about how to adapt its successes to this new technological environment.

Populists Have Evolved Faster Than Their Democratic Opponents

Looking comparatively across the democratic world, do you believe constitutional democracies have become more resilient since the first global wave of democratic backsliding began roughly a decade ago, or have populist and authoritarian leaders simply become more sophisticated in pursuing incremental, legalistic forms of democratic erosion?

Professor Aziz Huq: What we have seen so far is rapid evolution on the side of populists, slower evolution on the side of those who oppose populists, and now, in countries such as Hungary and Poland, an effort to think about what happens after populism and how one insulates a polity from populism once it has taken hold.

I would not describe this as a situation in which one side has gained the upper hand while the other has been weakened. Rather, I would say that we have moved through different moments or cycles, each characterized by different forms of contestation and by different pragmatic and moral questions that have emerged.

The Next Great Democratic Challenge Is Rebuilding Political Representation

Voters wait in line at Mary Rose Cardenas Hall North on the University of Texas at Brownsville campus during the 2008 US presidential election on November 4, 2008. Photo: Dreamstime.

Finally, Professor Huq, if you were advising constitutional reformers seeking to future-proof liberal democracy against both authoritarian populism and the emerging challenges posed by artificial intelligence, digital platforms, and algorithmic governance, what institutional reforms would you prioritize?

Professor Aziz Huq: This is obviously the million-dollar question. And I don’t have a million-dollar answer. I do think that we have learned a lesson that the brilliant political scientist Juan Linz tried to teach us in the 1970s about what he called the perils of presidentialism. We’ve seen, time and again, the importance of having effective checks on the power of the executive branch. These can come from the courts, from so-called guarantor or fourth-branch institutions, such as auditors’ offices or independent prosecutors, and from the creation of a federal structure.

We’ve also seen the importance of building effective systems of representation that do not flow through the presidency. So, for example, in the United States, there is a real need to rethink how Congress is constituted. What are the structures of representation that generate the federal Congress? And how do you create a federal Congress that has both the incentive to respond to shifts in popular sentiment and is sufficiently coordinated to stand up to the presidency? That requires, among other things, a shift from a first-past-the-post system to a more proportional electoral system.

I also think it is difficult to imagine that this kind of reform of non-executive representative bodies can occur without also rethinking the political party structures that underpin them. One of the things that has happened over the last two decades is the collapse of traditional party structures. I think this is very clear in Europe. In the United States, you are seeing the same process unfold, albeit in a slower and more opaque fashion. The Republican Party has functionally collapsed. It has been taken over by its MAGA faction. And if you look at Democratic voters’ views of the Democratic Party, you see that the Democratic Party no longer has the kind of stable base or loyalists that it had 30 or 40 years ago. So that looks to me like a collapsed party structure of the kind that is plainly manifest in the United Kingdom, plainly manifest in France, and in other European jurisdictions. It simply has not yet taken an electoral form in the United States.

In that context, we need to think very hard about the associational forms of political representation. How do we coalesce into political communities in ways that effectively represent people, and, in particular, those who are on the sharp edge of economic change, whether that change stems from globalization or from the wave of unemployment that AI may well generate?

I don’t know if there is a general legal answer to that question. The answer in the United States is almost certainly going to be different from the answer in the United Kingdom, different from the answer in France, and different from what Turkey looks like. But it is one of the most important areas of reformist thinking that needs to be pursued over the next five to ten years.

Dr. Gino Pauselli.

Asst. Prof. Pauselli: LGBTQ+ Rights Have Become a Symbolic Boundary in Global Politics

Authoritarian governments, populist movements, and rising powers are increasingly challenging the liberal international order not only by contesting specific human rights norms but also by questioning the institutions that create and enforce them. In this interview with the ECPS, Assistant Professor Gino Pauselli of the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign examines how international norms are negotiated, resisted, and reshaped in an era of geopolitical rivalry and democratic uncertainty. Drawing on research spanning LGBTQ+ rights, migration, border securitization, China’s influence in global governance, international organizations, and civil society, he argues that contemporary struggles over human rights are fundamentally contests over political authority, sovereignty, and the power to define international law itself.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Throughout the post-Cold War era, the international human rights regime has often been understood as one of the defining pillars of the liberal international order. Built upon the principles of universality, multilateral cooperation, and the progressive expansion of international legal protections, this order has contributed to significant advances in the promotion of civil liberties, minority rights, and transnational accountability. Yet, in recent years, these foundations have come under mounting pressure. Across both established and emerging democracies, populist leaders, authoritarian governments, and rising powers have increasingly challenged not only specific human rights norms but also the institutions and legal processes through which those norms are produced, interpreted, and enforced. Far from being confined to domestic politics, contemporary conflicts over sovereignty, migration, borders, LGBTQ+ rights, and civil society have become central battlegrounds in a broader contest over the future of global governance and the legitimacy of liberal universalism.

It is precisely these transformations that lie at the heart of the scholarship of Dr. Gino Pauselli, Assistant Professor in the Department of Political Science at the University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign. Combining insights from international relations, comparative politics, and human rights scholarship, Dr. Pauselli examines how international norms emerge, diffuse, and are contested through interactions among states, international organizations, NGOs, and transnational advocacy networks. His research offers an original perspective on the contemporary struggle between liberal and illiberal visions of international order, moving beyond simplistic accounts of democratic decline to reveal the complex political processes through which global norms are negotiated, resisted, and reshaped.

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Pauselli argues that contemporary disputes over LGBTQ+ rights are ultimately less about sexuality than about political authority itself. As he puts it, “the ostensible subject is LGBT rights, but the deeper objection concerns who gets to make international law and how.” In his view, sexual orientation and gender identity have become powerful symbolic markers through which states signal their position in an increasingly polarized international order. Consequently, “LGBT rights have become the issue through which states perform that boundary—a way of signaling which side of a supposed civilizational divide a state stands on.”

Dr. Pauselli also offers important insights into the changing dynamics of authoritarian and populist politics. While acknowledging that anti-LGBT rhetoric often serves to divert attention from policy failures, he argues that it represents something more ambitious: “an active project to reshape society or build society around a notion of a heteronormative state.” Similarly, his research on border securitization demonstrates that restrictive migration policies can generate unintended human rights consequences. Rather than rhetoric alone, he finds that visible state projects such as border walls communicate heightened threat perceptions to border officials, thereby increasing the likelihood of abuse.

The interview further explores China’s growing influence within international institutions, the contestation surrounding sexual orientation and gender identity resolutions at the UN Human Rights Council, the emergence of illiberal NGO networks, and the evolving relationship between populism and international human rights governance. Throughout the conversation, Dr. Pauselli challenges conventional assumptions that rising powers necessarily reject global governance altogether. Instead, he argues that they increasingly seek to reshape existing institutions from within, because they “do value order and global governance,” while contesting the liberal content of the norms that sustain them.

Despite documenting an increasingly coordinated transnational backlash against liberal human rights norms, Dr. Pauselli remains cautiously optimistic about the future of the human rights project. Resistance to human rights, he observes, is hardly new; what is new is “the transnational coordination of this opposition at both the state and non-state levels.” Yet he also insists that attacks on the postwar human rights regime cannot ultimately succeed without offering a compelling alternative. The greatest challenge for liberal actors, he concludes, is not simply defending abstract legal principles but demonstrating, through people’s lived experiences, how universal human rights meaningfully improve everyday life. In an era increasingly shaped by populism, geopolitical rivalry, and normative contestation, this interview offers a timely and sophisticated examination of the future of democracy, international law, and the global human rights order.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Assistant Professor Gino Pauselli, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Opposition to LGBT Rights Is Ultimately a Contest Over International Authority

Homophobic counter-protesters from Malopolscy Patrioci organization, during manifestation against Krakow Equality March (Pride parade) at Main Market Square in Krakow, Poland on August 29, 2020.

Dr. Pauselli, welcome! Let me begin with your recent research on LGBTQ+ rights and authoritarian politics. You suggest that opposition to LGBTQ+ rights is often embedded within broader resistance to the liberal international order. Why have sexual orientation and gender identity issues become such powerful symbols in contemporary struggles over sovereignty, nationalism, populism, and global norms?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: First, international law has historically been understood through consent. Sexual orientation and gender identity norms, by contrast, expanded rapidly at the international level, largely through the interpretive work of courts, treaty bodies, and non-state actors rather than through explicit state agreement. That makes them an almost ideal target for a sovereigntist critique: they can be portrayed as obligations imposed without consent by unelected actors, thereby expanding the jurisdiction of international institutions. The ostensible subject is LGBT rights, but the deeper objection concerns who gets to make international law and how.

The second reason is that these issues rest upon the symbolic material that nationalism mobilizes: the family, reproduction, the gender order, and the continuity of the nation across generations. That makes them a clear boundary marker. In my own work, I think about this in terms of ingroups and outgroups. Criticism over human rights tends to produce compliance among states that see the critic as one of their own and backlash among those that see the critic as an adversary. LGBT rights have become the issue through which states perform that boundary—a way of signaling which side of a supposed civilizational divide a state stands on.

Third, opposition is cheap. Restricting these rights carries little material cost and threatens no powerful economic interests, while yielding a high identity return. It is a low-cost, highly visible signal of standing apart from the liberal international order.

Many authoritarian governments portray LGBTQ+ rights as foreign impositions or manifestations of “Western values.” How much does this rhetoric overlap with contemporary populist narratives that oppose cosmopolitanism, globalization, and transnational human rights norms in the name of national sovereignty?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: This is exactly what I was mentioning. It is true that populist and conservative governments have used anti-LGBT rhetoric to challenge what is perceived as a foreign imposition. But this rhetoric, as I mentioned before, is itself borrowed from transnational actors, including both non-state actors and organized state actors abroad.

Economic Growth Can Strengthen, Rather Than Weaken, Anti-LGBT Projects

To what extent do anti-LGBTQ+ campaigns serve as political instruments through which populist and authoritarian leaders mobilize conservative constituencies, manufacture moral panics, and divert public attention from governance failures or economic grievances?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: This is a very common interpretation of the instrumentalization of anti-LGBT rhetoric. I wouldn’t say that this is not the case. This powerful strategy of opposing LGBT rights and LGBT norms does, indeed, divert attention away from economic grievances. But in the research that I’m conducting with a graduate student at the University of Illinois, what we’ve been observing is that this is not the full story. There’s also an active project to reshape society or build society around a notion of a heteronormative state and heteronormative norms.

So, on the one hand, it is true that there’s the scapegoating thesis, which basically argues that anti-LGBT rhetoric is useful for leaders because it diverts attention from the failures of their own policies. But at the same time, there is some evidence that, during periods of economic growth and economic development, this rhetoric actually becomes even more powerful in strengthening the state and reinforcing certain ideas about the state. In other words, it is precisely when the state has the resources to impose and advance these anti-LGBT projects that this rhetoric becomes most effective.

The Real Contest Is Over Who Has the Authority to Shape International Law

The UN Human Rights Council has become a major arena for disputes over sexual-minority rights. What do the debates surrounding sexual orientation and gender identity (SOGI) resolutions reveal about the changing nature of global human rights governance and the growing contest between liberal and illiberal visions of international order?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: The idea of sexual orientation and gender identity being discussed and debated at global international institutions, especially human rights organizations, is relatively new. In the UN Human Rights Council, the first attempt to pass a SOGI resolution occurred in 2003, while the first resolution to be voted on and adopted came only in 2011. So, this is a very recent development—less than two decades old. And every time these initiatives have emerged, we have observed strong opposition from a bloc of countries. Although this bloc has changed over time, SOGI resolutions have consistently been among the most contested issues before the UN Human Rights Council.

So, this leads to the question that I’m essentially reframing from your question: Why is this the case, and what does it tell us about the contestation between liberal and illiberal visions of the international order?

One of the things that has become much clearer recently, especially after the many interviews I conducted in Geneva last summer, is that many states—particularly liberal states—are deeply concerned about the ability of multiple international institutions to reshape international law independently. The concern is that—or at least the way many states frame it—non-state actors, including the Human Rights Council and treaty bodies, have modified or reinterpreted international law beyond the consent of states. This challenges the basic, traditional understanding of international law, which has historically rested primarily on state consent.

What many states argue is that they never signed up for this. They basically say that they never consented to incorporating sexual orientation as one of the categories protected by international human rights law. They’re not necessarily contesting that these rights should not be protected. Rather, they do not accept this as part of the international human rights project because they never consented to it.

There is no international human rights treaty that explicitly includes it, and it is not part of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights. So, the concern is deeper than sexual orientation and gender identity themselves. It is fundamentally about the ability of these bodies—these non-state actors—to reshape international law and then hold states accountable for standards to which they have never consented.

But there is also concern about these norms empowering domestic actors who are currently repressed and who might use these international frameworks to challenge the domestic status quo. For authoritarian rulers, this is particularly threatening. They fear allowing advances and changes at the international level that domestic actors could subsequently invoke to challenge their own rule.

Political Anxiety, Not LGBT Rights Themselves, Drives Much of the Conflict

Helsinki Pride parade.
Helsinki Pride parade on July 2, 2010. Photo: Dreamstime.

Looking ahead, do you expect conflicts over LGBTQ+ rights to remain one of the principal battlegrounds between liberal and authoritarian visions of international order, or are other human rights issues likely to supersede them?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: This is very hard to tell. It’s very difficult to predict the future, and every time social scientists have tried to do that, they usually fail because we’re not trained to know what’s going to happen. But one thing I’ve been observing is that the transnational LGBT movement is learning how to counteract the conservative backlash. Actors who have been promoting and protecting LGBT rights have been thinking very carefully about the frameworks and strategies that might be most helpful and effective in preventing the conservative backlash from gaining further ground. If these actors ultimately succeed in limiting the conservative backlash, then conservatives will probably find another issue to politicize. In that case, LGBT rights would gradually move away from the center of this contestation over the international liberal order.

At the end of the day, societies care about their well-being. The lack of progress and the anxieties generated by technological change have probably led many individuals to embrace anti-LGBT rhetoric as a way of resisting change and channeling their own anxieties. But the current challenge for the conservative side is that it ultimately needs to start delivering results and providing answers to those anxieties. If opposition to LGBT rights fails to do that, then they may find themselves in some trouble. They may need to turn to another issue or rely on something else to maintain their political power.

Rising Powers Prefer to Reshape Existing Institutions Rather Than Replace Them

In your research on China’s influence within the UN Human Rights Council, you show that Beijing’s presence systematically affects the voting behavior of other states. What does this finding tell us about how rising powers can reshape international norms from within existing institutions rather than by creating alternative ones?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: There are many things that are relevant to this issue. One is that, when we observe China being effective or successful in undermining international legal norms through its participation in the UN Human Rights Council, the first thing that comes to mind is that creating new institutions and providing them with legitimacy is very difficult. So, many authoritarian or illiberal states that oppose the international liberal order may find it much easier to advance their own agenda—even if it is an illiberal one—from within existing institutions that already enjoy high levels of legitimacy than through creating new institutions that few people know about and that may lack legitimacy in the eyes of the international community.

But, to address your question directly, the first thing this tells us is that rising powers like China are deeply interested in global governance. They’re not after anarchy, per se. So, by opposing the international liberal order, they are not opposing order itself. They do value order and global governance, but they may object to the content of the current norms that sustain that order. As China rises to the top of the global power hierarchy, it does not isolate itself. On the contrary, it actively participates in international institutions that help build and sustain order at the global level. It works through these institutions to advance its own goals.

Secondly, the other point I want to make is that international organizations are very important actors in shaping international norms. These norms essentially delineate what constitutes appropriate state behavior and what does not. They may not have teeth. We know that there is no global police force, and there is no United Nations army. But the norms that are developed and shaped within international organizations create a context—a normative structure—in which certain forms of state behavior become more or less costly. That normative environment may benefit some countries more than others. That is precisely where the contestation lies.

Independent Expert Bodies Are More Resistant to Political Contestation

Your research challenges the assumption that participation in international institutions necessarily socializes rising powers into liberal norms. Based on the case of China, under what conditions can international institutions instead become vehicles for norm revision, contestation, and the diffusion of illiberal ideas?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: This is a very interesting question, and it’s a very difficult one for me to answer. I don’t think I have a definitive answer. What I would say is that, based on research conducted by colleagues, it seems that institutions with broad participation—especially those characterized by direct state participation, where governments send representatives who ultimately decide whether to approve an institutional outcome, and where there are no independent experts or autonomous bureaucracies—are the institutions most likely to be used by illiberal states to challenge and contest international liberal norms. That’s the case with the UN Human Rights Council, for example. Every state has one vote, and every resolution is adopted if a simple majority of states votes in favor of it.

That is not the case, for example, with treaty bodies, where decisions are made by independent experts who adjudicate the cases brought before the institution. In those settings, states cannot—or at least do not necessarily—directly influence the outcomes through official channels.

Opposition to Human Rights Is Old—Its Transnational Coordination Is New

Turkish women rallied in Istanbul to protest proposed anti-abortion laws by then-Turkish Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdogan on June 18, 2012 in Istanbul, Turkey. Photo: Sadık Güleç.

How do you interpret the growing convergence between right-wing populist movements and authoritarian governments in their critiques of international human rights institutions? Are we witnessing the emergence of a transnational backlash against liberal universalism, and if so, what are its implications for the future of global human rights governance?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: One thing that I find very revealing when I teach international human rights to my students is that resistance to international human rights—and even to liberal conceptions of rights—has been with us for a long time, almost since the beginning of the universal human rights project in the post-war era. What I would say is that norms that provide tools for marginalized individuals, communities, and other actors to resist power, abuse, and the arbitrary exercise of power will always be resisted and criticized by those who benefit from the existing status quo.

What I do think is somewhat new in recent years, or perhaps over the past few decades, is the transnational coordination of this opposition at both the state and non-state levels. This coordinated opposition to the international liberal order and its norms—especially human rights—is something that is genuinely new. The opposition itself has always existed, but the coordination of that opposition is new.

I’m not sure what the future of the human rights project will be. But I would be very surprised if attacks on the human rights project were successful without offering an appealing alternative. What I do think is that, in the short run, attacking the international liberal order may be politically appealing to some individuals or actors, but, at the end of the day, something else has to replace it. I don’t see that happening right now. Nor do I think such an alternative would be particularly appealing to most actors.

Fear Flourishes Where Diversity Is Least Experienced

Your research on intergroup contact suggests that exposure to diversity can increase support for human rights. How should we understand this finding in light of the success of many contemporary populist movements that thrive on anti-immigrant, anti-minority, and exclusionary narratives?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: It’s actually quite consistent with what we’ve been observing regarding the success of these movements in advancing anti-group rhetoric and exclusionary visions of society. If we think about Brexit, or about some research that I’ve conducted on the LGBT-free zones in Poland, the areas that have embraced this rhetoric most strongly are precisely those that have had the least contact with these perceived outgroups. So, these movements tend to be particularly successful in areas—and among individuals—with relatively little exposure to migrants, minorities, or other perceived outgroups.

Securitization Changes How Border Agents Perceive Threats

In your work with Beth Simmons, you demonstrate that border hardening can increase allegations of torture and abuse by border and immigration officials. What does this reveal about the unintended human rights consequences of securitization policies in contemporary states?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: What we find in our research is that the construction of border walls predicts, in the short run—between one and four years—an increase in allegations of torture committed by border and immigration officials. Importantly, this effect is limited to that specific subset of state agents. We do not observe a corresponding increase in torture allegations against other state agents, such as the police or the military, but only among those tasked with enforcing the border.

What these findings tell us is that there is a human cost to promoting securitization projects. Expensive and highly visible initiatives, such as border walls, which are designed to restrict the entry of individuals into a given country or territory, may signal to the state agents responsible for border enforcement that there is a serious threat out there—even if, in reality, there is not.

The presence of these highly visible and costly projects may also signal that these agents need to rely on more extreme measures to protect the nation or its territory. This ultimately translates into concrete actions in the form of more cases of physical abuse and human rights violations. It’s not necessarily that border walls constitute a direct instruction from political authorities to torture individuals. Rather, these projects are interpreted by border agents in two ways: first, that there is a heightened threat, and second, that they should rely on a broader range of tools to prevent that threat from affecting their own country.

Border Walls Transform Political Messages into Enforcement Practices

Ramallah, Palestine, surrounded by the controversial Israeli wall that separates the State of Israel from West Bank. Photo: Giovanni De Caro.

Many governments justify stricter border controls in the language of security and sovereignty. To what extent has the rise of populism transformed migration governance by legitimizing policies that may undermine international human rights protections while claiming democratic legitimacy?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: What we actually find in our research is very interesting in terms of the connection between populist movements and rhetoric. Rhetoric alone—whether expressing anxiety over borders or anger about migration—does not predict greater abuse. Simply having a leader speak publicly about the border, migrants, and the need to protect the nation from an external threat does not, by itself, translate into border agents committing more acts of torture. This is conceptually and theoretically related to the idea that security and sovereignty are not necessarily at odds with human rights, or at least with sovereign border control. In principle, they can coexist.

The real risk lies in how this rhetoric is interpreted by the agents tasked with enforcing the border. The situation changes when this rhetoric is combined with a costly signal. One thing is for an agent simply to hear the leader talking about the border. But it is something quite different to hear the leader talking about the border while also observing a massive border wall that has cost millions of dollars. That is a much more concrete signal that this is a serious issue, that it is a priority for the state, and that there is a serious threat out there.

Human Rights Monitoring Depends on Networks of Trust

Your research on international organizations and NGOs emphasizes the importance of trust-based relationships in the production of credible human rights information. Why are some NGOs more influential than others in shaping international responses to rights violations?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: Here’s where we move to the micro level of these actors. As political scientists, we’ve traditionally thought about international organizations and NGOs as actors. We call them non-state actors, but, in reality, they are made up of individuals. NGOs do not walk down the street by themselves. We cannot observe an NGO in the same way we observe a person. An NGO doesn’t have a conscience, nor do international organizations. Individuals do. They are the staff of these organizations, and they are the ones who actually carry out their work. So, trust between organizations is often built through trust between the individuals who belong to those organizations.

In our research, we find that interactions between NGO members and international organization staff over time increase the likelihood that the international organization will later speak out about issues in the countries those NGOs care about. For example, during a hearing before the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, certain NGOs participate in the proceedings. They interact with Commission members, have conversations, and even share coffee with them. Then, months or even a couple of years later, because they now have their WhatsApp number or email address, they can contact the Commission and say, “Look, this is what’s happening in this country right now.”

It’s not that the Commission would have been unaware of those violations if the NGO staff had not reached out. Rather, because the information comes from an NGO with which Commission members have already established a relationship, that information is trusted—or at least trusted more—than the same information arriving through other channels, where they may not have the same ability to assess the credibility of the source.

This is how interactions between NGOs and international organizations can shape the monitoring role of international organizations in holding states accountable to international norms. It’s not that NGOs are the only providers of this information. Rather, because of prior contacts and repeated interactions, the information they provide carries greater credibility and is therefore more likely to influence the organization’s response.

Illiberal Regimes Are Building Their Own NGO Networks

Across Europe and the Americas, populist leaders frequently frame international organizations, NGOs, and human rights advocates as unelected elites disconnected from ordinary citizens. How has this populist critique affected the legitimacy and effectiveness of global human rights institutions?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: That’s a very interesting question. At the moment, I’m not aware of research that provides a clear answer to it. But I can imagine a few ways in which we might approach it. I think rhetoric is a very powerful tool for advancing political goals. But at the same time, these same populist and authoritarian leaders have also used NGOs themselves to boost their own legitimacy and advance their own agendas. So, while they argue that nobody elected these organizations and that it is unclear whom these NGOs actually represent, they also send their own NGOs abroad and rely on the credibility of the broader NGO community to shield themselves from international criticism.

I am currently developing research with a colleague, Sarah Bush, in which we examine what we call “illiberal NGOs,” or “cheerleader NGOs.” These organizations essentially participate in international institutions to praise authoritarian governments. We’re still not sure whether this is an effective strategy, but these populist and authoritarian regimes are clearly relying on NGOs to advance their own rhetoric. At the same time, whenever NGOs say things these governments don’t like, they respond by arguing that nobody elected them. That they do not necessarily represent or enjoy the support of society.

Norms Are Contested Because They Redistribute Power

A young woman on street enjoy holding gay pride banner during a protest. Photo: Dan Rentea.

Across your scholarship, a recurring theme is that international norms are not simply imposed from above but are contested, negotiated, and reshaped through interactions among states, international organizations, and civil society actors. How should we rethink the process of norm diffusion in an increasingly multipolar world where populist, nationalist, and sovereigntist actors challenge the universality of human rights norms?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: This is a tough question. I’d like to begin by saying that we should think about norms and international norms as not being value-free. They’re not value-free. At their core, a norm is an expectation of appropriate behavior. The content of these norms may reflect liberal ideas, but they can also generate expectations about illiberal behavior. It’s not the case that, simply because a norm exists, it is, by definition, a liberal one.

At the end of the day, norms are about what constitutes appropriate or expected behavior for states, actors, or individuals in general. That behavior may be either consistent or inconsistent with the status quo. The expectation may be for individuals or actors to behave differently from how they have behaved in the past, or to behave in ways that challenge the existing distribution of power.

Because norms create expectations about certain forms of behavior over others, multiple actors naturally become interested in how those norms are developed, diffused, or resisted, since they affect the status quo in one way or another. They either reinforce it or challenge it. The contestation and negotiation that you’re asking about are really about the content of these norms. Norm diffusion should be understood as the diffusion of normative frameworks that benefit certain groups over others, depending on the content of the norm.

The Future of Human Rights Depends on Their Relevance to Everyday Life

And lastly, Professor Pauselli, taken together, your work examines authoritarian resistance, rising powers, borders, human rights, international organizations, and civil society. Do you see contemporary populism as primarily a challenge to specific liberal policies, or as a broader challenge to the universalist foundations of the postwar human rights regime? What does this imply for the future of democracy and global human rights protection in the twenty-first century?

Asst. Prof. Gino Pauselli: Many colleagues might not agree with this, but the way I understand populism, or the concept of populism, is that it is, by definition, at odds with liberal conceptions of the polity and of how societies are organized. In terms of what populism implies for the future of this project, populism is the latest effective tool that certain sectors of the elite have found for gaining and maintaining power. I’m not sure whether they even think about the future of the international human rights regime. Populism is simply instrumental for them in maintaining or gaining power. It is effective because of the contemporary anxieties that societies face—anxieties that many members of society do not necessarily see being addressed by liberal democracy or liberal norms.

So, basically, there are two things going on here. On the one hand, we have the supply side, where elites find populist strategies and rhetoric effective for gaining or retaining power. On the other hand, we have the demand side, where members of society are looking for alternatives that can reduce their anxieties over issues such as economic development, progress, and inequality in general. And this is why populism is so effective right now.

Now, turning specifically to the human rights project, those actors who are engaged—or have long been engaged—in promoting and protecting human rights, the liberal actors, in some way, should be thinking about developing and strengthening tools that effectively communicate, through people’s lived experiences, how these norms—how human rights—positively affect their lives. Their everyday lives, in the areas and issues they care most about. I know this is very difficult. It is very hard for a human rights NGO to communicate to rural communities, or even marginalized urban communities, that an abstract text signed 70 or 80 years ago is relevant to them if they cannot see exactly how it connects to their own lives, especially when their lives lack so many basic things. This is the main challenge if the human rights project is to survive in the future: for constituents, broadly speaking—not just elites—to understand the value of that project for their own lives.

Professor Martín Tanaka.

Prof. Tanaka: Populism Remains a Risk in Peru, but It Is Far More Contained Today

Peru’s 2026 presidential election has reopened fundamental debates about populism, democratic resilience, institutional decay, and constitutional governance in one of Latin America’s most politically volatile democracies. In this timely interview with the ECPS, Professor Martín Tanaka, Full Professor of Political Science at the Pontifical Catholic University of Peru and Senior Researcher at the Institute of Peruvian Studies, argues that while “populism remains a risk,” it is “much more controlled and limited” than many feared. He explains why Peru’s democratic crisis stems less from executive authoritarianism than from party fragmentation, legislative dysfunction, and institutional weakness, while cautiously suggesting that the country’s new political balance may create opportunities for negotiation, institutional reform, and democratic stabilization.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Peru’s 2026 presidential election has once again thrust one of Latin America’s most fragile democracies into the center of international attention. A razor-thin presidential runoff, renewed allegations of electoral fraud, deepening institutional distrust, chronic party fragmentation, and mounting public insecurity have revived long-standing debates over democratic resilience, populism, political representation, and constitutional governance. While Peru has long been viewed as an outlier for combining macroeconomic stability with persistent political instability, the election of Keiko Fujimori has introduced a new layer of uncertainty by reopening unresolved questions about the country’s post-authoritarian trajectory. At a moment when many democracies are struggling with populist polarization and democratic erosion, Peru offers an important case for examining whether institutional recovery remains possible after years of political fragmentation and declining public confidence.

Few scholars are better positioned to assess these developments than Professor Martín Tanaka, Full Professor of Political Science at the Pontifical Catholic University of Peru and Senior Researcher at the Institute of Peruvian Studies. Widely recognized for his pioneering scholarship on weak party systems, ‘brokered democracy’, clientelism, populism, and democratic deterioration, Professor Tanaka has spent more than two decades analyzing why Peru’s democratic institutions have struggled to consolidate despite sustained economic growth. His research has fundamentally shaped comparative debates on party institutionalization, democratic accountability, and the paradoxes of governance in contemporary Latin America.

In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Tanaka offers a measured yet cautiously optimistic assessment of Peru’s political future. Although he acknowledges that the 2026 election reproduced many of the structural weaknesses that have characterized Peruvian politics over the last decade—including institutional fragmentation and declining trust—he nevertheless argues that the outcome may represent an important turning point. As he observes, “the results are much better than our worst expectations,” because many of the parties most closely associated with irresponsible populism and legislative obstruction suffered significant electoral defeats. Rather than signaling the consolidation of anti-system politics, the new Congress may create stronger incentives for negotiation and coalition-building.

Throughout the interview, Professor Tanaka challenges several conventional assumptions about Peru’s democratic crisis. He argues that Peru’s recent democratic erosion has been driven less by executive aggrandizement than by “the decay of parties and the control of parties by particular interests and very narrow interest groups.” Unlike many contemporary cases of democratic backsliding, Peru’s principal danger has not been excessive presidential power but institutional fragmentation, legislative clientelism, and the collapse of effective political mediation. Yet he also sees reasons for cautious hope, emphasizing that “the distribution of political forces puts on the agenda the need to negotiate and to achieve agreements between parties with different perspectives,” while noting that “the risk of the continuation of this populist logic still exists, but it is much more controlled and limited.”

The conversation also explores broader theoretical questions concerning the evolution of populism, democratic legitimacy, corruption, judicial activism, and institutional reform. Professor Tanaka reflects on Peru’s distinctive combination of economic orthodoxy and political instability, examines why anti-corruption campaigns have generated widespread public disappointment, and assesses whether bicameralism and a more structured party system can help restore democratic governance. 

Looking beyond the current electoral cycle, he concludes that rebuilding Peru’s democracy will ultimately depend on strengthening the state’s administrative capacity, professionalizing the civil service, and reconstructing political parties capable of reconnecting citizens with representative institutions. As he puts it, “state reform and civil service reform are the major issues in Peru,” alongside political reforms that can begin “to reverse the dynamic of deterioration that we have faced in recent years.”

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Martín Tanaka, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Peru Has Entered a New Political Era Beyond the Post-Fujimori Consensus

Alberto Fujimori
Alberto Fujimori, President of Peru from 1990 to 2000, whose presidency combined economic stabilization and counterinsurgency efforts with growing authoritarianism and institutional erosion. Photo: Luis Antonio Rosendo / Dreamstime.

Professor Tanaka, welcome. Let us begin with the broad political significance of this election before turning to the deeper institutional and theoretical questions it raises. Peru’s 2026 presidential election appears to have reproduced many of the structural pathologies that have characterized Peruvian politics for nearly a decade: extreme party fragmentation, widespread distrust of institutions, and an intensely polarized second round. To what extent do these election results represent continuity with Peru’s post-2016 political trajectory, and where, if anywhere, do you see evidence of genuine political realignment rather than merely another episode in an ongoing cycle of institutional instability?

Professor Martín Tanaka: That’s a very difficult question. If we analyze the election itself, the diagnosis would be that we are facing a repetition of the dynamics we’ve seen over the last decade—and, even more, not only a repetition but a worsening of the situations that we faced before regarding the fragmentation that you mentioned. At the same time, we had a very narrow result. If Roberto Sanchez had won, we would be saying that we are facing something that resembles a repetition of the 2021 election. I mean, a radical leftist, populist candidate who won the presidency and who faces a situation where he is in the minority in Congress.

But the result that we’ve had is that Keiko Fujimori won the election. This places us in a very different scenario from the previous years because, during this century, we faced what I call the post-Fujimori era regarding Alberto Fujimori’s presidency, the father of Keiko Fujimori. I mean, the main challenge that Peruvian democracy had in this century was to deal with the heritage of the 1990s neoliberal and authoritarian government that Alberto Fujimori led, and now we are facing this particular situation where her daughter is now the president of Peru. 

What is she going to do? Are we going to go back to the 1990s? Are we going to see the continuity of the last 25 years? Is she going to try a different path? Those are the questions that Peruvians are now asking themselves.

Despite Growing Distrust, the New Congress Creates Space for Political Negotiation

The narrow outcome of the runoff, accompanied by competing allegations regarding electoral integrity and the refusal of sections of the political class to fully accept the result, has once again raised concerns about democratic legitimacy. From a comparative perspective, should these post-election disputes be interpreted primarily as symptoms of democratic backsliding, or do they instead reflect the normalization of distrust in a political system whose institutions have already suffered prolonged erosion?

Professor Martín Tanaka: Yes, in this election, we’ve faced these allegations regarding electoral integrity, but I believe that this problem has worsened in this particular election. First, in previous elections, we’ve had allegations, but I believe that the electoral authorities had the credibility to say that the election was correct and the results were fair, and that the allegations were simply the result of bad losers. 

We had candidates from the right who behaved in this way, presenting allegations and claiming fraud, but they had no consistent and strong proof to support those allegations. We could say that they were bad losers, and these bad losers developed this kind of behavior because of the polarization and radicalization of some sectors of the political spectrum, mainly on the right. But in this particular election, during the first round, we had a rightist candidate claiming fraud. Now, in the second round, we have a leftist candidate also alleging fraud. 

In this particular election, we also had the electoral authorities committing mistakes in the organization of the electoral process regarding, for example, the distribution of electoral material to the voting centers. So, these three things combined have weakened, to a great extent, the credibility of the electoral institutions.

However, the one thing that I believe is important to mention on the positive side is that the composition of the new Congress is based on six political parties that are among the most coherent and promising parties in the competition. We had 36 parties competing, and the six that obtained representation are the ones that one can say are the most consistent or coherent.

The distribution of political forces puts on the agenda the need to negotiate and to achieve agreements between parties with different perspectives. So, this is a promising possibility. The logic of polarization and confrontation can change a little bit and lead to a more negotiated political process.

No Political Bloc Can Govern Alone, and That May Benefit Democracy

Peru-Poliitcs
Supporters gather in the streets of Puno, Peru, during the campaign for the 2010 local elections, August 2010. Photo: Dreamstime.

Much of your scholarship has emphasized that Peru’s crisis stems less from ideological polarization than from the extraordinary weakness of political parties and intermediary institutions. After the 2026 election, has Peru finally reached the point where party institutionalization can no longer recover through incremental reforms, requiring instead a fundamental redesign of political representation itself?

Professor Martín Tanaka: As I’ve just mentioned, the results and the configuration of Congress open the way to moderate optimism. Because no major bloc has an easy majority. The rightist bloc is near or under a simple majority, so the opposition has some room for maneuver. Therefore, major setbacks will be difficult to implement under the Fujimori government. This kind of balance between a leftist and a rightist sector opens the way to finding an intermediate point where changes and reforms in different areas are possible.

In the economic area, it will be easier to achieve agreements in terms of strengthening market economy institutions. It will be a little more difficult, of course, regarding institutional aspects, such as judicial reform or political reform. Those reforms will be much harder. The clashes will be more intense in that area, but it’s not impossible.

The Election Results Were Far Better Than Our Worst Expectations

In your recent work, you argue that Peru experienced the emergence of a conservative-populist governing coalition that transcended traditional left-right divisions while jointly opposing institutional reforms. Has the 2026 election strengthened this coalition, transformed it, or exposed its internal contradictions? More broadly, what does this tell us about the changing nature of populism in contemporary Peru?

Professor Martín Tanaka: If we compare the results that actually emerged from the election with what we had speculated would happen at the beginning of the campaign, I’m really convinced that the results are much better than our worst expectations. One possibility was that the new Congress would be a continuation of the dynamic that we’ve seen over the last couple of years, where populists and irresponsible politicians were in control of the decisions. The parties most identified with these kinds of practices didn’t win the elections. Most of them received a very low number of votes. They even lost their political registration. They no longer exist in legal terms.

The parties that achieved representation are more structured and have more programmatic lines, both on the left and on the right. So, I believe that the risk of the continuation of this populist logic still exists, but it is much more controlled and limited. Of course, we never know, but I am quite optimistic about the possibility of limiting or changing the dynamic that we’ve seen in the last Congress.

A Centrist Majority Could Limit the Appeal of Populist Politics

Peruvian politics has frequently been described through the lens of anti-establishment leadership, from Alberto Fujimori to Pedro Castillo and, in different ways, several subsequent candidates. Yet these figures often differ substantially in ideology, governing style, and institutional strategy. How useful is the concept of populism for understanding Peru today, and where do you think it risks obscuring more than it explains?

Professor Martín Tanaka: I believe it has been useful. Over the last 10 years—we’ve seen the proliferation of discourses and decisions that can be better understood through the lens of populism. But if we look at the period from 2000 to 2015, the diagnosis would have been the opposite. What struck me most when analyzing Peruvian politics in the context of Latin America was the continuity of the neoliberal orthodox consensus among the major political and social players. Whereas the rest of the region was turning to the left and was being conquered by a populist discourse, Peru maintained continuity under neoliberal, market-oriented reforms. One may even find politicians who won elections by appealing to populist features, but under their presidencies, their administrations maintained a kind of political orthodoxy in terms of political economy, as well as in their management and policy decisions.

However, things changed from 2016. Now, the current results of the last election make us think that maybe Keiko will return, at least to some extent, to the neoliberal orthodoxy. It’s different to be in Congress and in opposition. She has the responsibility to deliver in economic terms, so I believe that things will change a little bit. Although Fuerza Popular also has bases that may pressure it toward populist discourse and redistribution, I believe that we will find a kind of return to orthodoxy.

Regarding the opposition, we have an extreme left that is close to the conventional populist discourse. But they are not in the majority. They are at the extreme of the political spectrum, and there is the possibility of creating a center consensus in Congress that may limit the space for populist discourse and decisions.

Fragmentation, Not Authoritarianism, Remains Peru’s Greatest Democratic Risk

Peru protest.
Protesters march in Arequipa, Peru, during a demonstration against corruption and the rising cost of living, August 2010. Photo: Dreamstime.

Across Latin America and beyond, democratic erosion increasingly occurs through gradual institutional weakening rather than abrupt authoritarian ruptures. Does Peru illustrate a distinctive pathway of democratic backsliding—one driven less by executive aggrandizement than by the cumulative decay of parties, Congress, and mechanisms of accountability?

Professor Martín Tanaka: In the last 10 years, Peru has been an example of a particular pathway of democratic backsliding, not driven by a strong executive but by the decay of parties and the control of parties in Congress by particular interests and very narrow interest groups. That’s what we have been looking at over the last 10 years.

I believe that this may change. I’m a little bit optimistic. I believe this dynamic may change a little bit. Now we have Keiko Fujimori in the presidency. A lot of colleagues have expressed concern about the possibility of a government with authoritarian features. Keiko Fujimori has vindicated the image of her father and his style of government. But at the same time, the distribution of forces in Congress will not allow it, and the mobilization of civil society would not allow her to follow an authoritarian path. So, the risk and danger of a strong executive are relatively low. That’s my particular opinion. Maybe other colleagues will not agree with me.

The main problem would be disorder, chaos, indiscipline, and fragmentation. This risk is still very strong, very high in Peruvian politics nowadays. The possibility of a dynamic that resembles the last 10 years is still strong. But the parties that obtained representation are a little more structured and coherent than the parties that we had before.

Bicameralism Could Help Contain Peru’s Fragmented Politics

You have long argued that Peru represents a form of ‘brokered democracy,’ in which local intermediaries often substitute for institutionalized political parties. Two decades later, has this brokerage model become even more deeply entrenched, or are we witnessing its transformation into something more fragmented and potentially more dangerous for democratic governance?

Professor Martín Tanaka: That’s a good question. We are now beginning to know each of the representatives who have achieved representation in Congress. In this particular election, there’s an important novelty: we have reintroduced a bicameral system. We had a Congress working with only one chamber. Now we have a Senate and a Chamber of Deputies. So, in the Senate, we have more experienced politicians. Across the different political groups, you can identify strong political leaders who have a long tradition and a clear identification with their political parties. In the lower chamber, things are a little bit different. The representation of the different regions is stronger because of the electoral system. There is a greater presence of inexperienced politicians across all parties in the lower chamber. So, the possibility that these particularistic interests will be present in the lower chamber is very high.

I ask myself whether the main parties will be able to guarantee discipline and build a parliamentary agenda among their individual members. That will be a major challenge for all parties. But ultimately, the political dynamic will be marked by the initiatives of the executive of the central government. And the weight of the Senate will also help to discipline what may happen in the lower chamber.

Peru Still Lives with the Paradox of Economic Success and Institutional Weakness

One striking paradox of Peru is that prolonged macroeconomic stability has coexisted with chronic political instability. How do you explain the persistence of democratic dissatisfaction in a country that, until recently, outperformed many of its regional peers economically? Does this challenge modernization theories that associate economic success with democratic consolidation?

Professor Martín Tanaka: That’s a good and complex question. Peru has had a kind of learning process marked by trauma. We had terrible hyperinflation at the end of the 1980s. We then experienced a very radical, drastic, strong, and traumatic neoliberal reform. The neoliberal reform ultimately stabilized the country, lowered inflation, and allowed Peru to regain growth. So, in the minds of the political and social elite, the continuity of the neoliberal model, or a market-oriented economy, became established as something very important that should not be touched. I believe this consensus has survived even until now. Of course, making changes while preserving the stability of macroeconomic institutions is still a consensus that remains valid in contemporary Peru.

At the same time, the weakness of political parties doesn’t permit, doesn’t allow presidents and politicians to capitalize on macroeconomic stability. For example, there have been many corruption scandals that have weakened and destroyed the legitimacy of political parties and political figures. So, there is still this huge gap between macroeconomic performance and the very low legitimacy of political institutions.

The prospects for the years to come are that Keiko Fujimori will try to make some improvements on the economic front. It will be more difficult to see institutional reforms that go together with these economic reforms. So, Peru will continue to show this paradox of moderate economic success coexisting with very, weak political institutions.

In recent years, the deterioration of democratic institutions has been very striking. We are now wondering in Peru what Keiko Fujimori will do because her political party, Fuerza Popular, was one of the major protagonists of this weakening of democratic institutions in recent years. The question that we may ask ourselves is whether Fuerza Popular will continue to behave as it did while it was an opposition party, and how much it will change now that it has the responsibility of governing.

Peru Must Rethink How It Fights Corruption

Peruvian policewomen stand in formation during an International Women’s Day march in Lima, Peru on March 8, 2019. Photo: Morgan Eborzee / Dreamstime.

Your work has repeatedly highlighted the interaction between corruption scandals, judicial activism, and political instability. After nearly a decade in which anti-corruption investigations reshaped Peruvian politics, do you believe accountability mechanisms have ultimately strengthened democracy, or have they unintentionally contributed to institutional fragmentation and public disillusionment?

Professor Martín Tanaka: This is a very difficult question to answer. But we may say that this drive to fight corruption, initiate investigations, and judicialize the political dynamics in Peru has been a disappointment. Disappointment is the dominant sentiment among Peruvians. The fact that Keiko Fujimori has won the election is a good illustration of this. The judiciary initiated investigations against Keiko Fujimori. Those investigations even led to her incarceration. Months and years went by, and the cases, the investigations, and the accusations against Keiko Fujimori couldn’t continue. Most of the trials, allegations, and accusations against her ultimately did not proceed. So, she had the opportunity to run for the presidency, and she has now won.

Even more, the fact that she was accused and even incarcerated has turned into political capital for her. She can present herself as a victim, as a martyr. This has helped her in this electoral campaign.

This is a major issue. There is a widespread perception that corruption is everywhere. It is a very important concern for everybody, but at the same time, there is also a consensus that judicial initiatives to fight corruption have not produced good results. So, what to do with anti-corruption initiatives, and what to do with the judicial system, are major issues in Peru—and even more so for Keiko Fujimori, who has been accused and has, in a sense, become a victim of those judicial initiatives.

Moderate Politics Still Has a Chance in Peru

In many democracies, populist leaders portray constitutional checks and independent institutions as obstacles to popular sovereignty. Yet in Peru, citizens often appear equally distrustful of both elected politicians and institutional constraints. How can democratic reformers defend liberal institutions when public confidence in nearly every component of the political system has eroded?

Professor Martín Tanaka: Another difficult question. Of course, the easy answer is that we have to defend and maintain democratic liberal institutions while, at the same time, achieving greater efficiency in addressing the problems that are the main concerns of the population. Of course, this is easy to say but very difficult to achieve. But, 2026 election allows us to be moderately optimistic about the possibility of limiting the spread of extreme discourses and more extreme populist appeals.

It also opens up the possibility of building a majority around centrist politics, with political parties converging around the political center and reaching a consensus that may produce more efficient public policies. This possibility exists. The fact that the distribution of forces in Congress will not permit the adoption of extreme measures puts the need to build consensus firmly on the agenda. This provides a good foundation for better public policies. Of course, that’s only a possibility. We’ll see what happens next.

State Reform and Meritocracy Are Peru’s Most Urgent Priorities

And lastly, Professor Tanaka, looking beyond the immediate electoral cycle, if you were advising Peru’s next generation of political reformers, which institutional reforms would you prioritize to rebuild democratic legitimacy? More fundamentally, what must change if Peru is to move beyond recurring cycles of populism, personalistic leadership, institutional fragility, and democratic uncertainty toward a more resilient constitutional democracy?

Professor Martín Tanaka: The last question is even more difficult. If I had to choose, I would say that state reform and civil service reform are the major issues in Peru. Because one thing that is associated with political instability and corruption is the fact that, in recent years, a patronage logic in the use of the state has become widespread. And, talking about populism, this logic of patronage—this patrimonial use of the state—has been a major problem in recent years.

So, we face this paradox: because of economic growth, we have resources, but because we also have inefficiency and corruption, these resources cannot be translated into good public policies, tangible results, and effective delivery for citizens. This is a major issue. There is a great deal of room for improvement in this area. If the Keiko Fujimori government understands that we need to protect meritocracy and efficiency within the state, it will help her a lot, and it will greatly improve the political system’s ability to legitimize itself.

At the same time, political reform regarding the functioning of political parties, the need to strengthen political parties, and the need to improve their transparency and their relationship with citizens are also major issues. That could help begin to reverse the dynamic of deterioration that we have faced in recent years.

Cynthia McClintock is Professor of Political Science and International Affairs at George Washington University and Director of GWU's Latin American and Hemispheric Studies Program.

Prof. McClintock: The Desire for an ‘Iron Fist’ Helped Shift Peru to the Right

Peru’s razor-thin 2026 presidential election has reopened fundamental debates about democratic legitimacy, populism, institutional resilience, and political representation in Latin America. As Keiko Fujimori returns to power amid allegations of electoral fraud, rising insecurity, and deep public distrust, critical questions emerge about whether Peru is entering a period of democratic stabilization or renewed political crisis. In this timely interview, Professor Cynthia McClintock of George Washington University examines the structural forces reshaping Peruvian politics—from fragmented party competition and the enduring legacy of Fujimorismo to the regional rise of right-wing populism. She argues that “the desire for the iron fist” has helped shift Peru to the right while warning that the country remains democratically vulnerable despite important institutional and economic advances.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Peru’s 2026 presidential election represents one of the most consequential democratic tests in contemporary Latin America. The razor-thin runoff between Keiko Fujimori and Roberto Sánchez unfolded against a backdrop of escalating organized crime, allegations of electoral fraud, institutional reform, and profound public distrust in political institutions. Although the election culminated in the return of Fujimorismo to the presidency, it also exposed the enduring fragility of Peru’s democratic order and highlighted broader regional debates over populism, representation, democratic legitimacy, and state capacity. Rather than resolving Peru’s long-running political crisis, the election underscored the persistent tensions between demands for democratic accountability and growing public desires for order and security.

In this timely interview, Professor Cynthia McClintock, Professor of Political Science and International Affairs at George Washington University and Director of GWU’s Latin American and Hemispheric Studies Program, offers a nuanced assessment of Peru’s political trajectory while placing recent developments within broader comparative debates on democratic resilience in Latin America. Drawing on decades of scholarship on Peruvian politics, electoral institutions, democratization, and runoff elections, Professor McClintock argues that the 2026 contest should not be understood simply as a story of ideological polarization. Instead, she contends that “most Peruvian voters were actually not at these extremes; rather, their vote fragmented,” pointing to the unprecedented presence of thirty-five presidential candidates and the collapse of the democratic center before the runoff.

Throughout the interview, Professor McClintock examines why democratic legitimacy has become increasingly fragile despite Peru’s comparatively strong macroeconomic performance. She warns that declining trust in electoral institutions constitutes “a very worrisome pattern,” while emphasizing that rising insecurity has fundamentally reshaped political competition. In her view, “there’s been a particularly tragic increase in extortion in Peru, which has led to this desire for the iron fist,” helping explain both the electoral shift to the right and the growing appeal of right-wing populism across the region.

At the same time, Professor McClintock cautions against simplistic interpretations of Peru’s political evolution. She argues that institutional reforms—including bicameralism and runoff elections—remain valuable, insisting that “institutions matter,” even though “there is no magic formula for high-quality democracy.” Likewise, while recognizing the continuing appeal of Fujimorismo, she stresses that Peru’s persistent fragmentation has prevented any single populist actor from fully consolidating power, making Alberto Fujimori “an exception” rather than the rule.

Ultimately, Professor McClintock presents Peru as a democracy caught between meaningful progress and persistent vulnerability. Although she concludes that the country “is still vulnerable to these problems,” she also reminds us that Peru has made remarkable democratic advances over recent decades. The conversation therefore offers not only an illuminating analysis of Peru’s turbulent political landscape but also broader insights into the evolving relationship between populism, democratic representation, institutional resilience, and political legitimacy across Latin America.

Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Cynthia McClintock, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Peru Was Less Polarized Than Fragmented in 2026

Street art in Peru.
Street art and colorful graffiti brighten a wall in Cusco, Peru, reflecting the city’s vibrant urban culture. Photo: Nicola Messana / Dreamstime.

Professor McClintock, welcome, and thank you for joining us. To begin, how should we interpret the outcome of Peru’s 2026 election? Keiko Fujimori appears to have secured the presidency by one of the narrowest margins in Peru’s democratic history. What does such an extremely polarized and contested outcome reveal about the current state of democratic legitimacy and political representation in Peru?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s a very important question, and I worry a lot about democratic legitimacy in Peru. I think we all do. There’s definitely been a shift to the right in Latin American elections. I’m sure you’ve seen it too, and, of course, that’s represented here. It’s important to keep in mind that the third-place candidate was also involved in another razor-thin, delayed result, which was problematic for legitimacy, but it did signal the strength of the right. I assume that most of the votes for the third-place candidate went to Keiko Fujimori.

There’s been a particularly tragic increase in extortion in Peru, which has led to this desire for the iron fist, as we say. It’s clear that, with such a razor-thin result in the runoff, most folks would talk about polarization. But, in fact, Keiko Fujimori and Roberto Sanchez together received only 29% of the vote in the first round of the elections —it was 17% and 12%, respectively. So most Peruvian voters were actually not at these extremes; rather, their vote fragmented. There was serious fragmentation. There was a record 35 presidential candidates. So, it was a very fragmented, splintered vote, and unfortunately, from a lot of folks’ standpoints, the sort of more democratic center didn’t make it to the runoff.

Slow Vote Counts Are Fueling Distrust Across Democracies

Roberto Sánchez has refused to recognize the results and has alleged electoral fraud, echoing patterns seen in several democracies around the world. How concerned should we be about the normalization of post-electoral de-legitimization, and what does it suggest about the erosion of trust in democratic institutions?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s a very serious problem. Ironically, Keiko Fujimori also alleged fraud in the 2021 election, which she narrowly lost to the leftist. It was a reversal of the 2021 runoff here in 2026 in Peru. Of course, the United States, Brazil, and so many others have experienced similar patterns. It’s a very serious problem. The percentage of Peruvians who believe in the elections, or trust that the elections represented their outcome, was 30% in 2021, and it’s going to go down and down. There were problems with the ballot boxes in the first round. There’s also this question of the overseas vote. Whenever there’s a slow count throughout the world, it leads to doubts. It’s a very worrisome pattern.

Peru’s Political Geography Is More Complex Than Rural Versus Urban

The 2026 election once again exposed the deep divide between Lima and Peru’s rural and indigenous regions. To what extent is Peru’s political crisis fundamentally a crisis of territorial representation and unequal citizenship rather than simply a crisis of institutions?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: This has been the case really since the conquest, and unfortunately, it does continue. It’s a very deep divide. Some of the folks reading this may remember the protests back in 2022 and 2023 in Peru. The name of the protest was “Take Over Lima”. It was people from the South, reflecting historical resentments. So it’s a very significant divide. By the same token, just as I was talking before about polarization versus fragmentation, as of the 21st century, more than two-thirds of the population of Peru is urban.

This is true throughout Latin America now. It’s not really this image of the coffee farmer way off in the Ceja de Selva. This is not really accurate anymore. There are an awful lot of Peruvians elsewhere, who live in the cities and in the informal sector, and they’re what we would probably call lower middle class. So, it’s true that there’s this major divide. We’ve seen this in every single election, where the Southern Highlands, in particular, vote to the left, and Lima and the north coast vote to the right. But it shouldn’t be exaggerated either. As I said, all of these sort of candidates, more or less in the democratic center, were closer to a majority than these two extremes.

Security Has Become Fujimorismo’s Strongest Political Asset

Keiko Fujimori has inherited and reshaped one of Latin America’s most enduring populist political legacies. To what extent can Fujimorismo still be understood as a form of right-wing populism, and how has its appeal evolved in the context of contemporary Peru’s demands for order, security, and political stability?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: Keiko Fujimori is now very much the establishment. This was the fourth time running to win, but she has held a lot of power in the country, especially since the razor-thin 2016 election. She can’t really claim to be an outsider any longer. Her tone has varied over time, so it’s a little unclear exactly how Fujimorismo is going to evolve going forward.

When she was campaigning this time, she campaigned as a Democrat who’s got her eyes on security. Yes, we’re going to be tough on security, but a lot of the things she proposed, most of us would say, “Yeah, go for it,” in this climate of severe crime. Bigger, better jails. Virtually 99% of Peruvians support that. When she was asked about human rights violations, she didn’t say much. She’s moderated her tone quite a bit, but then there’s also not quite as much self-criticism. There’s no criticism of the Fujimori era either.

There’s definitely still Fujimorismo and anti-Fujimorismo in Peru. The South is anti-Fujimorismo because of the concerns about human rights violations.

One of the reasons why she lost in 2021, in particular, was that memories of the corruption allegations against her were still strong. That was less the case now. There is a generation that’s less familiar with all of this and was probably more willing to vote for “Fujimorismo.” But given that it was 2026, (five, six years later,) the people who support it don’t see the human rights violations or the corruption allegations, so it’s a different vision, and we’ll see how it evolves.

Anti-Fujimorismo Has Weakened, But It Has Not Disappeared

Alberto Fujimori
Alberto Fujimori, President of Peru from 1990 to 2000, whose presidency combined economic stabilization and counterinsurgency efforts with growing authoritarianism and institutional erosion. Photo: Luis Antonio Rosendo / Dreamstime.

Does Keiko Fujimori’s apparent victory suggest that anti-Fujimorismo is finally losing its mobilizing power, or does the narrowness of the result indicate that the country remains deeply divided over the Fujimori legacy?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: I would say both. There’s still deep division about this. If you consider that the third-place candidate was far to the right, I assume that Keiko got a lot of those votes. But considering that you had both the first- and the third-place candidates on the right, one would have thought that she would have won by a much wider margin. So, there’s still a considerable anti-Fujimorismo vote.

On the other hand, she did prevail this time. So, as I was saying a little bit in response to the previous question, Some of the memories… corruption… the anti-Fujimorismo folks definitely highlight human rights violations and corruption under her father, as well as the protests and some of the more recent events. But those memories have faded a bit now. For younger folks, the 1990s are ancient history.

So, both are true. It exists. That’s why she didn’t win by a larger margin. Sánchez in the first round only got 12%. So, the vote for the far left in the first round was very low. The fact that he brought it to a virtual tie suggests there’s still a lot of anti-Fujimorismo, but she won.

Keiko’s Alliances Could Determine Peru’s Democratic Future

Throughout your scholarship, you have emphasized the importance of democratic legitimacy. Given both the contested outcome and Fujimori’s polarizing political history, what challenges will the incoming administration face in building a broadly accepted mandate to govern?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: I think she needs to continue with the more moderate positions that she tended to highlight during the campaign. The runoff tends to mean that candidates have to look toward the center, but then there’s the question of how they will govern afterward—their base versus trying to appeal to a broader center. She will have a plurality in both houses of Congress. For the first time since the 1990s, Peru has a Senate. It’s a very powerful Senate. She’ll have a little more than a third of the seats in both houses, so she’s in a very strong position.

She’ll be in an even stronger position if the third-place candidate, a former mayor of Lima named López Aliaga, who also finished third in 2021, supports her. We don’t know what his positions are going to be with respect to Keiko. It was not Sánchez charging fraud in the runoff; he was charging fraud in the first round. So he’s not happy with how that went, with Keiko. But, on the other hand, they’re both considered rightists. We’ll see how that relationship goes. Keiko, in the past, especially during this 2021–2026 term, often allied with the left.

Sánchez’s party is called Perú Libre. The current president of Peru is actually also from Perú Libre. His ascendance to the presidency was supported by Keiko’s party. So; she’s had a history of being able to make these kinds of deals and negotiations— I would argue, not necessarily for the best. There are big questions, for example, about illegal mining in Peru and how to deal with it. It’s a very difficult issue. Illegal mining is terrible for the environment, very dangerous for a lot of Indigenous communities, and for law and order in general. But there are a lot of folks who see this as a huge bonanza, with gold prices through the roof. On the right, a lot of people say it’s just bureaucracy that’s preventing more of this mining from becoming legal. On the left, there are a lot of poor people out there who want, need this kind of financial boon. So there often are positions that I might not favor, but that different groups on the left and the right can come together on.

There’s a lot of concern that if, for example, Keiko does forge an alliance with the rightist forces of López Aliaga, that could mean more of a mandate for authoritarianism. Hopefully not. We have now had something reasonably democratic in Peru for basically most of the period since the return to democracy in 1980, so hopefully the norms have settled in, and there are a lot of very honest, professional people doing their best to make democracy work and to make the country prosperous.

Peru’s Greatest Instability Is the Expectation of Failure

Peru has experienced extraordinary presidential turnover, with nine presidents in roughly a decade. Does the election of a candidate whose party possesses a stronger organizational structure than most competitors offer a genuine opportunity for political stabilization, or are the underlying drivers of instability still intact?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s a really good question. On the one hand, there is a very long-standing driver of instability, which is the expectation that things are not going to work out very well. As you may know, Peru’s political parties are notoriously fragile. It’s a sharp contrast to countries like neighboring Colombia, where the Conservatives and the Liberals were present for something like 100 years. 

Peru’s never had that, and there’s a tendency for people to expect failure, to say, “Oh, we’re going to abandon a sinking ship. Obviously, it’s not going to work out well for Keiko. Let’s go somewhere else.” Of course, that leads to, “Let’s get on the bandwagon of saying, no, we don’t like this president. Let’s have a new president.” Then you begin with this kind of hope, and then, again, cynicism, and turning against him. This was what happened a lot with Pedro Castillo. His view of things was that he was trying, he was being obstructed, and people didn’t give him a chance. That dynamic has been very common, unfortunately.

On the other hand, we can’t rule out the fact that Keiko’s been around a long time. As you said, she’s forged quite a lot of alliances. Almost all of us following Peru would say she’s been the primary architect of everything that’s happened since 2016. Even though the president elected in 2016, again by this very narrow margin, (former Peru President) Pedro Pablo Kuczynski, was also considered a very pro-market guy, more or less on the right, center-right, she was after him at every turn for a lot of different reasons. Anyway, she’s been a very powerful figure for quite a while. She has alliances. She has some very smart people, good tacticians, working with her.

So, there is this potential that, again, if she’s able to forge a good tie with López Aliaga and maintain the ties that she built with Perú Libre during the last couple of years, then this could be more “stable” than we want. Stability is always considered a good thing, and there are lots of problems with instability, particularly in Peru recently. All the turnover of ministers has made it very difficult to have continuity in security policy in particular. But that said, there are also concerns when you’re talking about the stability of an authoritarian regime or authoritarian tendencies.

Economic Success Alone Cannot Solve Peru’s Democratic Challenges

Peru-Lima
A paraglider soars above the Larcomar waterfront district overlooking the Pacific Ocean in Lima, Peru. Photo: Jesse Kraft / Dreamstime.

The 2026 election unfolded under newly reformed institutional rules, including the return of a bicameral legislature and measures intended to reduce party fragmentation. Do these reforms represent a meaningful step toward strengthening democratic governance, or are Peru’s problems rooted more deeply than institutional engineering can address?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s a very important question for political scientists, and we definitely believe institutions matter. I’ve worked a lot on the almost Latin America-wide implementation of runoff rules for the election of the president, and I definitely feel that they have been helpful. There’s never been any question in Peru about returning to elections without a runoff. You can imagine, in this case, if Keiko Fujimori had been elected president of the country after receiving only 17% of the first-round vote. All the questions that would have been raised if that had been the case. So there definitely are institutions that are helpful.

Most of my colleagues believe that bicameralism is a positive thing—a little more debate, a little more opportunity for checks and balances, and a little more opportunity for politicians to become senior in office, learn, and gain experience. That said, we’re also worried about the powers of this particular Senate and how they could be used. So there’s a lot of variation. Most institutions have pluses, but they also have minuses. Now, if there were some kind of magic formula for high-quality democracy, we’d have it. But there isn’t. Presidentialism versus parliamentarianism, no?

We believe that institutions matter, but so do social and historical norms and economic factors. “It’s the economy, stupid.” The famous phrase from Bill Clinton. Peru has enjoyed—it’s very ironic—an economy that has fared quite well over the last couple of years in particular, despite the political instability.

Campaign Moderation Does Not Always Survive Governing

In your work on run-off elections, you have argued that second-round systems can enhance legitimacy and encourage moderation. Looking at the Fujimori-Sánchez contest, do you believe the runoff system fulfilled those expectations, or did it instead reinforce polarization and anti-system mobilization?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: I do think it helped with moderation. Both Keiko Fujimori and Roberto Sánchez were acknowledging and recognizing, in their campaigns—and in the runoff in particular—what we might call the democratic center. That is one of the main reasons why Roberto Sánchez was able to increase his vote so much. As I mentioned, he only got 12% in the first round. Of course, a lot of the increase was due to the anti-Fujimorismo that we’ve talked about, but he was also campaigning on a much more moderate platform in the runoff than he had in the first round.

As we’ve said before, the big question is how they actually govern, and whether that changes. What we see in general in Latin America is that political leaders moderate during the runoff. Perhaps they move back a little toward their base once they’re in office, if they’re elected, but not entirely. So, it probably does help in terms of bringing the country together. But again, no panaceas.

Illegal Economies Have Undermined Democratic Consolidation

One of the most striking features of contemporary Peru is the coexistence of recurring political crises and long periods of macroeconomic stability. Why has economic performance repeatedly failed to translate into stronger democratic legitimacy and more institutionalized political competition?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: There is modernization theory, which is one of the classic theories in political science. We argue that with economic development and the growth of the middle class—which has happened in Peru, and I would argue very strongly that economic growth has been helpful—there’s really no doubt that economic growth, the emergence of a middle class, and the emergence of more educated and professional folks all help. If this were not happening, Peru would be in much worse shape today.

We don’t have to go that far back in history, to the Shining Path insurgency or the problems of political exclusion back in the 1930s, when the country was more or less a feudal society, to see that economic development has helped the country build middle classes, professional folks, and much more educated people who participate much more fully in a democratic society. But again, there are no panaceas.

We have to keep in mind that Peru was at the heart of the Spanish conquest in South America. It was incredibly traumatic. The Spanish arrived and, with a small group of men on horseback, conquered the country. This was the heart of the Incan civilization. So, when we’re talking about polarization in the South, this goes back to Atahualpa. The Spaniards said to him, “If you bring us all that gold and silver, your life will be saved. Everything will be fine.” Then they totally reneged on their promise and murdered Atahualpa. So this was an incredibly traumatic beginning.

Then, although there’s been economic growth, there’s also been incredible variation—a lot of booms and busts, historically. There was the infamous guano boom in the early twentieth century, and for about 10 years that was the motor of the Peruvian economy. Then, all of a sudden, there was a bust. So that meant all these changes in elites and changes in economic bases.

Currently, too, some of the economic growth comes from illegal mining. Some of the growth is in illegal sectors. Notoriously, coca, cocaine, and these illegal sectors reflect the robust demand from people in the North for gold, cocaine, and other drugs. That has meant the bolstering of illegal economies, and that’s been very unhelpful to the consolidation of democratic institutions.

Security Has Become Latin America’s Dominant Political Issue

The campaign highlighted competing visions of Peru’s future: Fujimori emphasizing order, security, and economic continuity, and Sánchez advocating constitutional reform, redistribution, and stronger state intervention. How should we understand this divide within broader debates about populism, representation, and democratic responsiveness?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s classic, to a large degree. In general, the political right tends to appeal to groups that are doing better, are more prosperous, like the way things are going economically, are more pro-market, and believe that the market will solve other problems. In general, the left says, no, we need a lot of state intervention to have social policies that benefit everybody. The distribution of wealth here is very skewed.

So, given the social bases that we’ve talked about, it’s not that surprising. It’s very important for the left to deal with the security challenge. Almost all Peruvians are worried about security. Again, we’ve seen this throughout Latin America. Just look at the Colombian election. This is a key issue. It’s been very hard for a lot of Latin American countries to control organized crime.

We could spend lots of time talking about that. There are problems related to the role of the North. A lot of guns go across the border from the United States, which is not helpful. Lots of the demand for these goods comes from here. But that doesn’t change the fact that, on the ground in Latin America, for most people this is the number one concern: security, being able to go out in the street at night.

The political left should not ignore trying to solve this problem in a democratic fashion.

Weak Parties Continue to Fuel Political Fragmentation

Peru- Pedro Castillo
A campaign billboard promoting Pedro Castillo ahead of Peru’s 2021 presidential election in Lima. Photo: John Kavanagh / Dreamstime.

Peruvian politics has increasingly been characterized by outsider candidates, weak parties, and personalized leadership. Has Peru become an archetype of what some scholars call “representation without parties,” and what are the democratic consequences of such a trajectory?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: That’s true, except for Fuerza Popular under Keiko. Fuerza Popular is the name of Keiko’s party. Fuerza Popular built on Alberto Fujimori and the popularity of some of his policies during the 1990s, but also tried to say, “Hey, no, we are more democratic than Alberto Fujimori was.” For most of the period since 2016, they’ve had a plurality, but they’re the only party that has consolidated.

Unfortunately, it’s just been very hard. As I said, there’s not a lot of social trust among Peruvians, and political leaders tend to have rivalries or quarrels and not be able to stick together. Bringing together the different parts of the country is hard, so it’s hard to consolidate political parties. Some of that’s worse now because of social media.

This is not uncommon. In the 2021 election, nobody had heard of Pedro Castillo until about a month before the election. So he was a classic outsider, but he was able to get 17% or 19% of the vote. Then, again, anti-Fujimorismo moved ahead. So it’s a classic example of an outsider being able to prevail. Once you have that example, lots of other people say, “Well, Pedro Castillo could do it. I can do it too. So let me throw my hat in the ring. Why not me?” So that was one of the reasons why there were 35 presidential candidates in the 2026 election.

It didn’t help that Fuerza Popular and some of the other parties believed they had enough of a political base to get into Congress. It’s a complicated situation, but Fuerza Popular was definitely hoping there would be this fragmentation so that they could get into the runoff with a relatively low percentage of the first-round vote, as they had in 2021.

Inclusion Depends on Trust, Presence, and Effective Public Policy

The Sánchez campaign drew substantial support from rural, indigenous, and historically marginalized constituencies. Regardless of the electoral outcome, what lessons should Peru’s political establishment draw from the persistence of these grievances and demands for inclusion?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s always important for leaders to travel to these areas, listen, speak with folks there, and then try to resolve these problems by working with local people. One of the former Peruvian presidents after Pedro Pablo Kuczynski, Martín Vizcarra, back in about 2018–2021, was one of the more popular Peruvian presidents. He was ultimately impeached, but he did a lot of getting out to local areas, and his popularity was based in good part on that. Peruvians really like it when the leader shows up, listens, and then tries to help.

Obviously, in 2026, too, social media is very important for leaders. It’s the way people communicate these days, and this was the case in Brazil and Colombia, etc. Leaders need to stay in touch with this space, trying to communicate, trying to say, “Yeah, this is what I’m doing for you lately.” Then they need to actually follow through, because people do notice. There are programs in Peru that have been quite successful. A lot of these conditional cash transfer programs throughout Latin America have been successful. It was under Ollanta Humala that there was a scholarship program, a pension program, and enhancements to the conditional cash transfer program. A lot of these programs were meaningful for people in these areas. So it’s a matter of continuing them.

Obviously, there’s always this question about Peru’s strong economy. A lot of analysts attribute its success to the central bank president. Peru has had the same central bank president, Julio Velarde, for a long time. They’ve been very good at keeping macroeconomics stable. So that’s important, but it’s also important to address inequality. Throughout Latin America, inequality is egregious. Peru is no exception, and there are programs that help. 

The Hardest Question Is Balancing Local and Central Power

Your research on Peru’s mining conflicts highlights the importance of local state capacity in mediating social tensions. As social conflicts surrounding extraction continue to shape Peruvian politics, how important will governance reform be for preventing renewed cycles of protest and instability?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: Peru, back under Toledo in the early 2000s, implemented decentralization reform. Again, it comes back to, “Be careful what you wish for,” with institutions, because decentralization was something that we all favored. We’ve talked many times about the exclusion of folks in Peru’s highlands and Peru’s jungle, and the tremendous power that Lima is perceived to have. So this was considered really important in terms of trying to ameliorate that cleavage—to give more power to local governments and to what’s called departments in Peru, which are like states in a lot of other countries. It’s a subnational level of government, and then there are local governments as well.

There have been successes, and this has been very meaningful for folks on the ground. They like it. But it’s been hard. Some of it is education. Some of it is experience. It’s quite new. There are often problems of corruption, so you need accountability and vigilance. But, on the other hand, you don’t want to strangle people with red tape either. So, these are challenging questions that I’m not sure have really been worked out anywhere—how to get the best balance between power to the localities and power to the center.

Peru’s Populism Remains Divided Rather Than Dominant

Comparative research often associates democratic erosion with populist leaders who claim exclusive representation of “the people” against corrupt elites and institutions. Does Peru’s experience suggest a different pattern, in which populism operates within a context of institutional fragmentation and state weakness rather than executive concentration of power?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: Alberto Fujimori was considered a rightist populist, and he was able to consolidate power. He has been an exception. Given the political fragmentation, it’s been challenging. Again, Martín Vizcarra, whom I mentioned before as being quite popular, definitely had populist traits. He might have been able to consolidate a movement, but, as we’ve talked about before, there was Keiko Fujimori as a rival, the fragmentation in the country, and others saying, “We don’t want him to consolidate a hegemonic position.”

So there have been moments of that. I’d say that, probably in the 2026 election, in part because Keiko has been around for so long, the politician who most claimed the mantle of rightist populism was López Aliaga, the former mayor of Lima. He clearly was not able to consolidate that position in the 2026 election.

How he’ll go forward is one of the biggest question marks because he could decide, as a rightist, to ally with Keiko, giving her a very strong position in Congress, which could lead her to become quite a hegemonic force. Or he could say, “It was Keiko who prevented me from getting to the runoff. I would have won easily. I’m angry.” That would very much be a continuation of division within the forces of populism. So, once again, you have both answers to both questions. Both positions are possible.

Security Is Driving the New Wave of Right-Wing Populism

March of Peruvian military personnel.
Peruvian military personnel march during the Independence Day civic and military parade on Avenida Brasil in Lima, Peru. Photo: Rommel Gonzalez / Dreamstime.

Across Latin America, populism has appeared in both left-wing and right-wing forms, from Hugo Chávez/Nicolás Maduro and Andrés Manuel López Obrador to Javier Milei and Nayib Bukele. Where does contemporary Peru fit within this broader regional landscape, and what can the 2026 election tell us about the relationship between populism, democratic representation, and institutional resilience in the region?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: We see populism gaining force. In part, it’s related to social media and the capacity for these quick one-liners, reaching more people by being able to say, “I’m gonna be the savior.” In part, that’s also related to perceptions of corruption. As more information and corruption allegations come to light, more average folks say, “Yeah, no, I’m really angry at these elites.” To a certain extent, too, with economic growth, people are saying, “Oh, X has done really well, and I haven’t,” so there’s more resentment. It’s happening throughout the world, from the United States to Colombia to Argentina. It’s also the case that rightist populism has fared very well. We’ve referred to that a couple of times today.

Clearly, this is based on the desire for security, as we’ve talked about before—the iron fist. The Bukele model is often incorrectly understood. A lot of folks say, “Bukele succeeded because he was tough.” In El Salvador, Bukele had a lot of tactical advantages going for him. There had been truces between the gangs and the government for a long period of time. Gang members wear tattoos. El Salvador is a very small country. Criminals can’t hide very easily. It’s not a country like Peru or Colombia, where a lot of the criminal groups are out in remote parts of the country where there are no police. So, he had a lot of advantages.

Abelardo de la Espriella bills himself as this right-wing populist, and I was watching his speech on election night in Colombia, and he’s just a copycat. But anyway, it’s the security issue that’s fueling this a lot. There’s also, as in many parts of the world, this backlash against secularism and a desire for a return to religious Christianity. So that’s part of it, too. But definitely we’re seeing a move toward rightist populism.

Peru Has Come Far, But It Remains Democratically Fragile

Finally, after the turbulent 2026 election, what do you see as the most plausible scenarios for Peru over the next five years? Are you cautiously optimistic that institutional reforms and electoral competition can restore democratic stability, or do you believe the country remains vulnerable to further cycles of polarization, protest, and constitutional crisis?

Professor Cynthia McClintock: It’s still vulnerable to these problems. But all Peruvians, and everyone who knows about Peru, would be hoping that that is not the case. As we’ve talked about today, there’s this incredibly traumatic history in the country, the problems associated with economic growth, the expansion of organized crime, the difficulties in establishing and consolidating strong political parties, and the tendency, when there is a strong political party, for it to move in an authoritarian direction, which is obviously antithetical, by definition, to democracy. These are all very serious problems.

But at the same time, we have to acknowledge how far Peru has come in the twenty-first century. This is true of a lot of Latin American countries. Many of these countries had totally excluded the left, with a sort of veto against the left being in power at all, one of the factors behind the egregious inequality in so many of them. In Colombia, Petro became the first leftist president in the country’s history. It finally happened.

In the case of Peru, the election of Ollanta Humala and Alejandro Toledo brought forward people who were not your classic Lima-based politicians—people with Indigenous roots coming to the fore in the country.

So, in general, I’d say the 2026 election in Peru was very worrisome in terms of perceptions of whether it was free and fair. But overall, in most of these countries, we have free and fair elections, which would have been unheard of 80 years ago. So there have been big advances. But yes, Peru is vulnerable, and I’m glad you’re focusing on it, because attention is a positive for everybody trying to do better and learn.