Professor James N. Green.

Prof. Green: Bolsonarismo Has Not Been Defeated, It Has Merely Lost a Battle

Brazil’s October 25 presidential runoff delivered a narrow victory for Lula da Silva, but the enduring strength of Bolsonarismo raises profound questions about democratic consolidation. In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor James N. Green, Carlos Manuel de Céspedes Professor of Latin American History Emeritus at Brown University, examines Lula’s electoral comeback, the institutional resilience of Brazil’s radical right, and the continuing threats of authoritarianism. Warning that “the far right in Brazil has not been defeated. It has merely lost a battle,” Professor Green explores conservative congressional obstruction, electoral delegitimation, religious fundamentalism, and democratic backsliding. Drawing on Brazil’s history of military dictatorship and democratic resistance, he emphasizes the indispensable role of grassroots mobilization, inclusive citizenship, and international solidarity in safeguarding democracy beyond electoral victories.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Brazil’s October 25 presidential runoff delivered a remarkable political reversal, with Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva securing a historic fourth term after overcoming his first-round deficit against Flávio Bolsonaro. Yet Lula’s narrow victory, with 51.79% of the vote against Bolsonaro’s 48.21%, exposes a fundamental paradox of contemporary Brazilian democracy: electoral resilience coexists with entrenched authoritarian tendencies, institutional polarization, and the enduring political strength of the radical right. Rather than signaling Bolsonarismo’s demise, the election raises profound questions about the fragility of democratic consolidation.

In an extensive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor James N. Green, Carlos Manuel de Céspedes Professor of Latin American History Emeritus at Brown University, draws on his scholarship on military dictatorship, democratic resistance, social movements, and political polarization to assess Brazil’s uncertain democratic future. His central warning is unequivocal: “The far right in Brazil has not been defeated. It has merely lost a battle.”

Professor Green situates Bolsonarismo’s resilience within Brazil’s historically conservative political culture and the institutional strength of Bolsonaro-aligned forces in Congress. Although democratic institutions successfully resisted the attempted coup of 2023, he cautions that authoritarian political currents remain deeply embedded. “They want an authoritarian state,” he warns, emphasizing that some radical-right forces seek to undermine the rule of law and the separation of church and state.

The danger extends beyond electoral competition. Professor Green identifies parliamentary obstruction, potential impeachment initiatives, and the delegitimization of electoral institutions as significant threats to Lula’s presidency. Reflecting on the far right’s allegations of electoral fraud, he warns that such narratives undermine democratic participation itself: “If people don’t believe the system is trustworthy, they’re not going to take the time or make the effort to go out and vote.”

Drawing historical parallels with Brazil’s 1964–1985 military dictatorship, Professor Green underscores the indispensable role of grassroots mobilization and international solidarity in resisting authoritarianism. He argues that the social movements instrumental in Lula’s electoral comeback must remain politically engaged beyond election cycles while preserving their capacity to criticize the government.

The interview also examines the growing influence of conservative evangelical Christianity, the vulnerability of LGBT+ rights, and the transnational connections between Trumpism and Bolsonarismo. For Professor Green, democratic consolidation ultimately depends on inclusive citizenship and institutional accountability. As he emphasizes, “If that society doesn’t protect broad democratic rights for everyone, no one’s rights are guaranteed.”

Looking ahead, Professor Green anticipates mounting confrontation between Lula’s governing coalition and the radical right, warning that the next four years could “further intensify tensions between the left and the right and deepen the country’s polarization.” His assessment reveals why defeating authoritarian populism electorally is not equivalent to overcoming its structural foundations.

Here is our interview with Professor James N. Green, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Grassroots Mobilization Secured Lula’s Victory

Brazilia’s Luiz Inácio Lula is seen during the 2022 election campaign in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on October 20, 2022. Photo: Aline Alcantara.

Professor Green, thank you for joining us. Lula overturned his first-round deficit to defeat Flávio Bolsonaro by 51.79% to 48.21% in the October 25 runoff. What explains this remarkable turnaround? Was it primarily anti-Bolsonaro mobilization, renewed confidence in Lula’s redistributive agenda, or a broader democratic reaction against right-wing populism?

Professor James N. Green: We have to fully understand how polarized Brazilian society is. The elections were close, despite the final victory for President Lula da Silva. In this regard, the coalition that President Lula established sent two messages. The first was a message against the anti-democratic tendencies of the Bolsonaro family, including the son of former President Jair Bolsonaro, who is currently under house arrest for being involved in an insurrection against the democratic state. The second was a reaction against the threat of eliminating social programs established under Lula’s governments over the years, which have really transformed the lives of ordinary and poor people.

The polls had shown Lula ahead in the first round of the elections, making his campaign overconfident. When the election results were finally determined on October 5, Lula was 1.9% behind Flávio Bolsonaro, causing panic among his supporters.

Three things then happened. First, there were initially spontaneous and later organized national demonstrations throughout the country, with huge mobilizations in the streets in favor of President Lula. Second, a very sophisticated and effective media and social media campaign was launched to encourage people to move beyond their bubbles and zones of comfort and reach out to others. Third, people individually drew up lists of those who had not voted in the first round and whom they could persuade to go to the polls in the second round.

That made the difference. Ten million more people voted for President Lula in the second round than in the first, while four million more voted for Flávio Bolsonaro. Both sides gained, but Lula secured a larger margin, largely because of the mobilization of his base of support to get out the vote.

Lulism Faces an Uncertain Future Beyond Lula

People wait in a long line to receive food donations for lunch on a downtown street in São Paulo, Brazil, during a severe economic crisis caused by the COVID-19 pandemic on June 2, 2020. Photo: Nelson Antoine.

Lula has secured a historic fourth presidential term, yet his narrow victory raises questions about the durability of Lulism beyond his personal leadership. Should Lulism be understood as a form of inclusive left-wing populism, a pragmatic cross-class coalition, or a distinctive model of social-democratic governance? Can it survive politically beyond Lula himself?

Professor James N. Green: It’s all of the above and it’s a very complex situation. At the moment, the Workers’ Party (PT), founded in 1980, is the largest left-wing party in the world with a positive dynamic. While other left-wing parties around the world are shrinking in size, the Workers’ Party remains strong and was able to pull off this tremendous electoral victory.

Lula is a social democrat because that’s the camp in which he has found himself, in the sense that he is clearly dedicated to uplifting the lives of ordinary working-class people. He’s not an ideologue; he’s a very shrewd and excellent negotiator who builds broad coalitions, and that’s precisely what he’s done. He built a broad center-left coalition in the country, taking the air out of a centrist political party that had been important for many years after the return to democracy: the Brazilian Social Democratic Party. Lula basically absorbed that sector of society into this large coalition, further polarizing the country while carrying out a program of reforms that some people think is not enough.

The far right, however, thinks it’s way too much, alleging that Brazil is now under a dictatorship and that communism could emerge in the immediate future. All of these are exaggerated fears and discourses that are far from reality.

Lula has a big challenge ahead of him. He has not successfully found a political heir, and there will therefore be disputes over the next three years about who will be the candidate of the left in the 2030 elections.

At this point, only days after the final results of the second round of the elections, the strongest candidate is the governor of the state of São Paulo, Tarcísio de Freitas, who is part of the Bolsonaro camp. He has the biggest chance of emerging as the leading political force in opposition to Lula’s presidency and of leading the opposition in the 2030 elections.

However, that being said, anything can change in Brazil. It’s a very dynamic country with a very complex history, so it’s hard to predict what’s going to happen in four years when we’re barely getting over the election results and beginning to look at the kind of government the Lula administration will establish for his fourth term in office.

Bolsonarismo Remains Powerful Despite Electoral Defeat

Despite Flávio Bolsonaro’s defeat, nearly half the electorate supported his candidacy, while conservative forces strengthened their congressional position. Does this outcome confirm that Bolsonarismo has evolved into an institutionalized radical-right movement independent of Jair Bolsonaro? What historical and social factors explain its resilience?

Professor James N. Green: In spite of a series of stereotypes portraying Brazil as an open, free, fun-loving country, with its carnival, tropical climate, etc., Brazil has a profoundly conservative political culture. Between 1945 and 1964, an interregnum during which Brazil held democratic elections, although the franchise was still limited, the voting blocs were divided basically into three groups: a third on the right, a third in the center, and a third on the left. And that is basically the situation today.

However, given the way elections work, there is a first round in which anyone can run for president, followed by a second round between the top two candidates. This tends to polarize the electorate between the left and the far right, although there are other candidates and political forces in the center representing that 33%, whose support is not reflected in the final presidential election results.

And so, Lula will have a difficult time in Congress. There are enough votes to initiate impeachment proceedings against the president, although, at this point, there are not enough votes to successfully impeach him. But they will try. The far right will definitely, at some point, try to seize upon a stumble by Lula and draw up impeachment charges against him in the lower house, the Chamber of Deputies, before taking them to the Senate, where Lula currently has enough support to prevent his removal from office.

The current Congress is very closely linked to Bolsonaro’s political party, the Liberal Party, and the names of political parties in Brazil often have nothing to do with their ideology. I wouldn’t really call his party a liberal party, but that’s the name they’ve taken for themselves. They will therefore have a large bloc, enabling them to push the agenda to the right and block some of the social agenda that Lula will clearly want to carry out in his fourth and final term in office. And so, there’s going to be tremendous tension.

The Bolsonaro forces will continue to have influence as long as Jair Bolsonaro’s family remains politically effective. However, with two of his sons in exile in the United States, claiming that there is a dictatorship in Brazil and that they’re being politically persecuted, the political capital of the Bolsonaro family has weakened.

It’s possible that their support will shrink to a more normal 33% of the population in terms of congressional representation in the future. But at the moment, as you pointed out, they clearly have a hold on the political system, from the right to the far right.

Democratic Institutions Survive, but Authoritarian Threats Persist

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

Drawing on your scholarship on Brazil’s authoritarian past, how should we interpret Lula’s victory in the context of democratic backsliding? Does the electoral defeat of Bolsonarismo demonstrate the resilience of Brazilian democracy, or does its continuing institutional strength suggest that authoritarian tendencies have merely been contained rather than overcome?

Professor James N. Green: I think we have a situation in which democratic institutions have sustained the democratic system so far and managed to fend off an attempted coup d’état in 2023, when Bolsonaro’s forces invaded the seats of Congress, the Supreme Court, and the executive branch of government. That led to the conviction and imprisonment of Jair Bolsonaro, along with the conviction of certain individuals within the armed forces and his political movement who conspired with him to overthrow the government.

But the fact remains that the Bolsonaro forces have not been defeated. They feel very confident, despite having lost this election. They feel a great deal of strength right now, and their anti-democratic sentiments therefore remain a threat to the consolidation of democracy in Brazil. This is the greatest danger because they do not believe in the rule of law. They want an authoritarian state. Some of them want to eliminate the separation of church and state in Brazil and push for a non-secular government, one shaped by religious ideologies.

And so, there are still threats to democracy in the country. Lula has a very strong popular base of support that will sustain him in office, but democratic forces need to remain alert because the far right has not been defeated. It has merely lost a battle.

International Solidarity Remains Vital to Brazilian Democracy

In We Cannot Remain Silent, you document resistance to Brazil’s military dictatorship and the struggle to restore democracy. How does this historical experience illuminate contemporary Bolsonarismo? What similarities and differences do you identify between authoritarian practices under military rule and today’s radical-right populism?

Professor James N. Green: In 1964, the military took power in Brazil, promising to restore democracy at a time when a left-wing populist government was in power and the country was experiencing high inflation and economic problems. They claimed they would basically clean house, get rid of corruption, and then return the government to the civilian population. But they did not do that. They stayed in power for 21 years. And so, the struggle to end the dictatorship and consolidate a democratic regime has been one of the great challenges people have faced over this period.

Many people ask me why I got involved in Brazil. The simple story is that I met a Brazilian exile in Washington, D.C., in 1973. He had been arrested and tortured in 1970 and 1971. His family helped him leave Brazil and come to the United States. Together with other Brazilian exiles and supporters of Brazil, he had organized a movement to denounce torture and repression in the country. This developed into a grassroots democratic movement throughout the United States, in which academics, religious leaders, politicians, people with connections to Brazil, and a scattering of Brazilian exiles organized a very effective campaign to denounce the military regime and expose the human rights abuses committed during its time in power.

This solidarity, this identification with democratic forces in Brazil, was an important element in containing the excesses of the military regime over time. And so, in recent years, as the far right has once again lifted its head and threatened democracy, a very strong international solidarity campaign with Brazil has developed.

I participated in that movement to a certain extent, and we founded the US Network for Democracy in Brazil and the Washington Brazil Office, a nonpartisan NGO based in Washington, D.C., that advocates on issues concerning Brazil and informs the public about the country’s political and social situation.

What’s significant about this new movement is that in 2022, when Jair Bolsonaro realized he was probably going to lose the elections to Lula, he developed a discourse claiming that the elections were fraudulent and that the voting machines could not be trusted. He therefore tried to mobilize sectors of the armed forces to carry out a coup.

In response, both the Biden administration and forces within Congress sent a clear message to the Brazilian military that the United States would not tolerate a coup d’état or interference in the democratic process. This is very significant because, in 1964, the United States supported the military when it came to power and continued supporting the generals for many years. So, this shift in US foreign policy, coupled with clear denunciations in Congress, created a split within the armed forces. One sector refused to join the attempted coup d’état, and the attempt failed.

This international solidarity, documented in my book We Cannot Remain Silent—which takes its title from the first petition circulated in 1970 about the situation in Brazil—illustrates not only the historical experience of the 1970s and 1980s, when people supported democratic forces in Brazil, but also more recent years, when academics, activists, and others have mobilized significantly to denounce threats to democracy and support democratic forces within the country.

I think they’ve been very successful in that regard. My book shows that this solidarity was very important in the past and remains important today. It is one of the bastions for guaranteeing that Brazil remains a democratic country.

Far-Right Resilience Threatens Brazil’s Political Stability

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

You have previously traced the intensification of Brazilian political polarization to developments beginning during Lula’s first administration. How does this historical trajectory help explain the exceptionally close 2026 election? Has polarization become structurally embedded in Brazilian democracy, extending beyond the personalities of Lula and Bolsonaro?

Professor James N. Green: The situation in Brazil reflects what’s happening worldwide. We’re seeing intense polarization in Europe and certainly in the United States, although we’re soon going to see a resounding defeat for President Trump’s policies in the elections to Congress and for governors and state legislatures in the United States.

This polarization, evident in Brazil, is also occurring across Europe, where the threat of far-right governments coming to power in France, the rise of the pro-fascist right in Germany, and the presence of conservative or semi-fascist governments in other parts of Europe are creating a very alarming situation for people around the world. We see the possibility of the far right consolidating its position in many parts of the world.

In Latin America, for example, most governments now in power are led by elected far-right or right-wing candidates. This is particularly the case in South America. At the moment, only three countries—Uruguay, Mexico, and Brazil—have center-left political parties in power. So, this threat is real. As you point out, the elections were so close that one cannot speak of a defeat of the far right in Brazil, but merely its containment—and an unsuccessful containment in Congress—which raises serious questions about the future.

Further victories by the far right can encourage its forces, whereas defeats, as will take place in the United States, could potentially discourage them. Brazil finds itself in a middle ground between strong far-right support for the opposition and Lula’s important but still narrow victory. This points to a somewhat unstable situation in Brazil, given the continuing strength of the far right.

Congressional Resistance Could Paralyze Lula’s Agenda

Lula enters his fourth term facing a conservative Congress in which Bolsonaro-aligned forces retain substantial influence. Could parliamentary obstruction and institutional confrontation constrain democratic governance even after the presidential defeat of the radical right? How should we distinguish legitimate legislative opposition from practices contributing to democratic backsliding?

Professor James N. Green: The question concerns the proposals that different political forces will put forward in the new Congress. What legislative proposals will they actually present that will affect the people of Brazil? This is especially important in addressing rising inflation, the high cost of living, a large domestic debt, and a government deficit resulting from huge spending on government programs. These problems could cause a very serious economic crisis in the next two or three years, weakening the legitimacy of the Lula government and opening the door, as I mentioned earlier, to possible impeachment proceedings.

So, the question really is whether Lula, together with his allies in Congress, can build a large enough coalition that, while not necessarily agreeing with all the political positions defended by the Workers’ Party and Lula, is nevertheless deeply concerned about holding back democratic backsliding in the country.

In this regard, Lula is currently putting together his new government, which will include members of centrist political parties that did not field a presidential candidate but remained open to supporting either of the two candidates, depending on who won. These parties will likely receive positions in government ministries, where they will be able to appoint their supporters to key political posts and exercise influence over government policy and practice.

Much therefore depends on Lula’s ability to win over potential opponents and bring them into his government. He did this during his last administration, but there was a problem: he recruited members of opposition political parties into his cabinet who served in the government, while their parties did not support the government in Parliament. Therefore, he has made it a condition for inviting people into his government that their parties commit to supporting government policies throughout his administration. Otherwise, they really shouldn’t be serving in the government.

One of Lula’s main challenges is thus to build a broad enough coalition to reduce some of the opposition to his governance while ensuring that these arrangements do not paralyze his ability to carry out his own political agenda over the next four years.

The Far Right Questions Elections Only When It Loses

Flávio Bolsonaro’s refusal to concede immediately and his challenge to electoral procedures have renewed concerns about institutional trust. In light of Brazil’s experience following the 2022 election, how significant are these developments? Can electoral institutions maintain democratic legitimacy when substantial political constituencies question the credibility of election outcomes?

Professor James N. Green: This is very interesting because the right-wing questions election outcomes when it loses, but when it wins, it doesn’t question the voting system. Brazil has an electronic voting system in which voters enter a booth and punch in numbers corresponding to their political party and its candidates. It’s a very efficient system. We know the results within an hour of the polls closing, and the outcomes have never been seriously challenged by legitimate forces. In this most recent election, there were outside international observers, and no one raised any questions about the outcome.

Moreover, no one on the far right questioned the victory of the majority of its supporters in Congress. So, somehow, the voting machines worked when they elected their supporters but didn’t work when they lost the presidential race. This undermines the electoral process and creates a sense of illegitimacy by casting doubt on the country’s existing voting system, which is extremely trustworthy, in my opinion.

This opens the door to a narrative that the elections were stolen, that Flávio Bolsonaro actually won, and that such a shift in voting between the first and second rounds of the election simply wasn’t possible. This narrative will be used to discredit the Lula government by claiming that it’s illegitimate. That, in turn, affects the entire democratic system in the country.

If people don’t believe the system is trustworthy, they’re not going to take the time or make the effort to go out and vote. This is very alarming for those who believe in consolidating democracy in Brazil rather than undermining it, which is what the far right is actually doing when it questions the final election outcome.

Social Movements Remain Essential to Brazilian Democracy

Women protest in Brazil.
Brazilian women in Campinas, São Paulo, take part in the nationwide #EleNão (Not Him) protests against far-right presidential candidate Jair Bolsonaro on September 29, 2018. Photo: Luiz Gustavo Freitas Rossi / Dreamstime.

Your historical research emphasizes the role of organized labor, students, and social movements in Brazil’s democratization. How important were grassroots organizations and renewed voter mobilization in Lula’s second-round recovery? Can this electoral coalition develop into a sustainable social movement capable of challenging Bolsonarismo between elections?

Professor James N. Green: What’s important to understand is that, before the military came to power in 1964, there was an upswell of social movements, especially around issues of land and workers’ rights, which was cut off when the military took power. Between 1968 and 1977, it was virtually impossible to organize a public demonstration against the military regime.

In 1977, students mobilized after some students and workers involved in leafleting in a working-class neighborhood were arrested and tortured. This sparked national demonstrations against their arrest and treatment in prison, opening the door to further mobilizations. The following year, the labor movement went on strike to demand wage increases in response to high inflation. This sparked a resurgence of the labor movement in the late 1970s and into the 1980s, as the country was transitioning to democracy.

These social movements were extremely important in demanding democracy during the late 1970s and 1980s and, after democracy was re-established, in consolidating social rights through the drafting of a new constitution in 1987–88 and the implementation of its best elements to guarantee broader democratic rights for citizens.

For example, before the Constituent Assembly of 1987–88, people who were not literate were not allowed to vote. That changed when literacy requirements were eliminated, along with prohibitions on Marxist and left-wing political parties. These parties were then allowed to field candidates, run for office, and participate in the electoral system.

This represented a very important consolidation of democracy. Similarly, the movements against the Bolsonaro government when it was in power, as well as the movement to defeat Flávio Bolsonaro, were driven in large part by social movements throughout the country. These included rural movements demanding land rights and urban social movements of all kinds, from those addressing homelessness to those seeking to expand democratic rights for different segments of society.

These movements were very important in mobilizing the additional 10 million people who voted in the second round of the elections. I think they will also provide an important base of support for the Lula government while pushing it to the left when it becomes stalemated or struggles to determine its future direction as it tries to implement policies. So, social movements are very much alive and well and remain strong. They will be a very important component in guaranteeing democracy in Brazil over the next four years.

Conservative Evangelicals Sustain Bolsonarismo’s Social Base

Lula’s social-policy credibility appears to have contributed to his runoff comeback, particularly among economically vulnerable voters. Yet Bolsonarismo retains substantial working-class support. How does this apparent contradiction reflect changes in Brazilian class politics? Can redistributive policies alone sustain progressive political identification amid cultural polarization and economic insecurity?

Professor James N. Green:

This is a very important question, as have been all the others. In 1970, if you had asked people about their religious identification, 90% would have said they were Catholic. There were small percentages of Jews, Muslims, people who supported Afro-Brazilian religions, and Protestants, but the country was overwhelmingly Catholic.

Today, 30% of the population consists of evangelical Christians. They’re fundamentalists, and there are tens of thousands of churches. If you go to a working-class neighborhood, you’ll find four or five small churches on every corner, run by pastors from the community who build a sense of belonging and welcome poor and vulnerable people. They offer social networks and connections that help people make contacts, find employment, and resolve problems they might be facing with their families. This has built a very strong base of support for the conservative social, cultural, and political policies promoted by these evangelical Christians. They formed the base of support for the anti-Lula coalition.

Lula had very strong backing from the Catholic Church, particularly its left wing, during the early years of the Workers’ Party’s formation. But that influence declined as the Catholic Church lost ground to evangelical Christians. Lula also lost support among evangelical Christians from working-class and poor families, which reflect his own origins.

So, one of the big challenges over the years has been balancing the defense of a broadly democratic program with efforts to attract evangelical Christians whose ideas and beliefs are not democratic and who don’t believe in an open, democratic society that guarantees rights for everyone.

This is a dilemma that the Workers’ Party has faced. On the one hand, how do we defend our values and our program? On the other, how do we attract people who, for whatever reason, are not aligned with our political worldview?

This has been really difficult. This time around, some evangelical Christian churches backed away from an enthusiastic endorsement of Flávio. I don’t think they mobilized their base of support as effectively as they could have in the second round of the election. To a certain extent, this is one of the reasons why Flávio lost the runoff to Lula, amid an upsurge in support for Lula’s policies and presidency.

So, the challenges remain. There is a hardcore Christian fundamentalist radical-right movement aligned with the far-right parties in the country. They have influence in Congress, where they hold a bloc of votes, and they’re still strong enough both to impose their political program and to block progressive ideas from the left. This will be one of the many difficulties Lula faces over the next four years.

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

Brazil’s LGBT Movement Can Resist Conservative Backlash

In your recent co-authored study, “LGBT+ Policies in Post-Redemocratization Brazil (1985–2025),” you demonstrate the institutional fragility and discontinuity of federal LGBT+ policies. What does Lula’s reelection mean for protecting these rights? Can his administration create durable institutional safeguards against future conservative reversals?

Professor James N. Green: This is a really good question. During the dictatorship, an LGBT movement emerged in Brazil, particularly in São Paulo and other cities, and it faced major challenges during the transition from dictatorship to democracy. But in the 1990s, the movement grew in size, and today, some of the largest pride parades in the world are organized in Brazil. There are probably 250 to 300 pride parades throughout the country commemorating LGBTQ rights.

At the same time, the movement has achieved specific changes in the law, largely through Supreme Court decisions that have broadened democratic rights. These include the rights to have same-sex partners, inherit from their partners, receive Social Security benefits, and obtain some form of legal recognition for relationships that exist beyond the normative standards traditionally established by society.

There are also a significant number of recently elected LGBTQ members of Congress who are very vocal. Erika Hilton, the transgender candidate elected to Congress with the largest number of votes, received 1.5 million votes, the highest number a woman has received in a congressional election. Other important members of Congress have also been elected throughout the country and are defending these rights.

The big challenge will be confronting a conservative Congress that is interested in rolling back some of the democratic achievements secured over the last 30 to 40 years. I think members of the LGBT community will be among the most vulnerable populations.

They’re very organized and highly mobilized, and they played a very important role in mobilizing support for Lula’s victory. So, this will be an ongoing dispute. It won’t be a simple battle; it will be very contentious over the years. But the movement is strong enough and has enough allies to block any serious rollback of its democratic rights in the country and perhaps even expand those rights during the four years of the Lula administration.

Without Universal Democratic Rights, No One’s Rights Are Guaranteed

Your biography of Herbert Daniel and your work on Brazil’s LGBT+ movement demonstrate how struggles against dictatorship became intertwined with demands for broader democratic inclusion. Following the 2026 election, what lessons do these experiences offer for contemporary coalitions defending minority rights, pluralism, and democratic citizenship against exclusionary populism?

Professor James N. Green: The question really is: What kind of democracy do we believe in? And do we really believe in democracy? People who have lived under authoritarian regimes that outlawed political parties, arrested and tortured political opponents, censored the press, and prohibited any kind of public demonstration against the regime come to value and understand, over time, the importance of democracy as a foundation, a baseline of support necessary to carry out any progressive social agenda.

My study of Herbert Daniel, who was involved in the armed struggle against the dictatorship, later came out as a gay man, and played a very important role in the fight to defend people living with HIV and AIDS, illustrates how people within the left eventually came to understand that we might have a long-term fantasy, a dream, or an aspiration for an economically and socially just society. But if that society doesn’t protect broad democratic rights for everyone, no one’s rights are guaranteed. This realization has helped strengthen the LGBT movement and enabled it to defend itself against the onslaught of the far right.

The big challenge over the next four years will be to consolidate that support and protection, along with the legislative and judicial decisions that guarantee democracy is not just for some people in Brazil, but for everyone, and that everyone has access to democratic rights, not just a select few. This commitment was a very significant part of the dynamic of the movement that defeated Flávio Bolsonaro, and it will help consolidate any advances that the Lula administration manages to achieve during what will be a very challenging next four years.

Bolsonaro’s Alignment with Trump Could Weaken His Movement

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

You have extensively examined the political connections between Trumpism and Bolsonarismo. How might Flávio Bolsonaro’s defeat reshape this transnational relationship? Could Trump’s political and economic interventions in Brazil unintentionally reinforce Lula’s nationalist appeal while helping sustain the Bolsonaro movement domestically?

Professor James N. Green: In 2025, when Donald Trump was going through his crazy phase of imposing 50% tariffs on countries around the world and then trying to negotiate something, he imposed those tariffs on Brazil, even though the United States has a positive trade balance with the country. The United States doesn’t have a trade deficit with Brazil, so there’s no reason to impose tariffs on Brazilian products entering the United States.

Nevertheless, the tariffs were imposed, and their removal was conditioned on ending the trial of Jair Bolsonaro, who, at the time, was facing charges before the Supreme Court for conspiring to overthrow the government. Lula received a demand that Bolsonaro’s trial be ended and that he be freed in order to eliminate the tariffs. So, already last year, Trump was imposing his political perspective on Brazil, conditioning the removal of high tariffs on freeing one of his allies.

I think the defeat of Flávio Bolsonaro, who immediately traveled to the United States, where he and his brother will now be living outside the law, will weaken them. His brother has certainly been convicted of crimes, and Flávio will likely be convicted of money laundering or other crimes he’s been accused of being involved in, not formally but informally. It’s likely that there will be some indictments in the immediate future.

Their position will be weakened in the United States, and their presence there merely encourages anti-American sentiment. Historically, the United States government has generally supported the wrong side in political battles in Latin America and Brazil. It supported the 1964 coup d’état and the military regime that followed, and it took a long time, until Jimmy Carter’s administration, to begin addressing human rights violations in Brazil and Latin America.

So, every time Trump does something that hurts Brazil, whether through tariffs or attempts to impose his will on the country, there is a strong anti-American backlash. And that helps Lula in the polls. The tariffs the United States has recently imposed on Brazil, which are 37%, are hurting the economy. There’s a strong sentiment that the United States is unjustified in what it’s doing, which gives the Lula administration more room to negotiate or try to change the dynamics of the situation.

The fact that a defeated candidate who claims there was electoral fraud is now in the United States and maintains close contacts with the White House is also unacceptable to some sectors of society that did not necessarily vote enthusiastically for Lula. They find this kind of subservience to the United States unacceptable.

Brazil has a strong sense of its national importance. It knows it’s a large and wealthy country, the eighth-largest economy in the world, with a huge territory and tremendous resources. It’s no longer willing to play a subservient role to the United States. And this will weaken Trump’s ability to impose his will on Brazil, especially if the Democrats win control of the House and perhaps the Senate, delivering a very strong blow to the Trump administration.

So, this is the situation. I think relations between the United States and Brazil will remain tense as long as Trump is in office. But Lula and his foreign ministry are very capable of pushing back and exploring whether they can negotiate tariff agreements and other accommodations with the United States, to the extent possible within this context.

Transnational Civil Society Remains Vital to Democracy

Through your work with the US Network for Democracy in Brazil and the Washington Brazil Office, you have emphasized the importance of international solidarity in defending democratic institutions. How might Lula’s reelection reshape Brazil–US relations under Trump? What role can transnational civil society play when ideological tensions between governments complicate diplomatic cooperation?

Professor James N. Green: What’s been important about the grassroots work of the US Network for Democracy in Brazil and the educational work of the Washington Brazil Office in the nation’s capital, especially in Congress, has been educating people about the situation in Brazil. Unfortunately, very few people know much about the country, its history, culture, and politics. And so, that’s an important element. Over the years, we’ve been very successful in raising awareness among Democratic members of Congress, who have been important allies of the democratic forces in Brazil.

Recently, since Flávio Bolsonaro fled to the United States, members of Congress have asked the Trump administration for clarification about how he was granted a humanitarian visa, what the conditions were, who allowed him into the country, what negotiations took place beforehand, and whether the United States had any involvement in the 2026 elections. Did far-right forces finance Flávio Bolsonaro’s campaign in any way? What are those connections?

All these questions will be investigated by the new Congress, especially if the Democrats win both houses. Even if they win only the House, they’ll still be able to pursue these investigations because there’s a large bloc of members of Congress who are aware of the situation in Brazil. Although this won’t be their top priority in the coming period—the main priorities will be addressing the high cost of living and ending the war in Iran—they’ll nevertheless raise these questions and put pressure on the Trump administration to ease up on its offensive behavior toward Brazil, perhaps by lowering tariffs or establishing a more favorable dialogue between the two countries.

Without these allies in Congress, these Democrats who have been willing to stand up and defend democracy in Brazil, we would have seen a much more cynical situation in the country, including the possibility of a coup d’état in 2023. We managed to avert that because of political forces in the White House, Congress, and civil society in the United States.

So, these movements are very important, both within the institutional structures of the United States, particularly Congress, and among civil society organizations in Brazil, which have learned over the last few years how to articulate their demands and concerns internationally in support of democracy and social justice in the country. These forces will need to remain active because, as I said earlier, we live in a very polarized time in which the balance of forces is constantly in dispute.

BRICS Strengthens Brazil’s Autonomy but Creates Contradictions

Lula’s victory preserves Brazil’s commitment to BRICS, closer economic engagement with China, and a more autonomous foreign policy. How might growing US–China competition affect his administration’s domestic political choices? Could Brazil’s pursuit of strategic autonomy strengthen national sovereignty while creating new economic and political vulnerabilities?

Professor James N. Green: Since the 1950s, the Brazilian government has pursued a policy of remaining largely equidistant and neutral between the Soviet Union and the United States during the Cold War. Brazil did not want to align itself too closely with either bloc. When the military came to power, it maintained this idea of autonomy on the one hand, while aligning itself very closely with the United States during the early years of military rule on the other. The US government supplied military and economic aid to the military regime to consolidate its hold on power.

This idea that Brazil needs to remain autonomous fits very interestingly with the concept of BRICS, which was developed by an economist to describe emerging nations that investors might want to consider: Brazil, Russia, India, China, and later South Africa. The BRICS coalition has expanded to 20 members, and it’s a very interesting bloc because, economically, it represents an attempt to create a counterweight to the United States in the international arena. The United States really controls the international economic system through the dollarization of the world economy and a series of international institutions, including the World Bank, the IMF, and others, that sustain US economic dominance.

China’s role as a countervailing force in this competition between the United States and the BRICS nations is particularly significant. On the one hand, the United States has depended on China over the years as an industrial manufacturing base for producing cheap consumer goods for the American market. On the other hand, this has contributed to the decline of industrialization in the United States, as many companies moved to China and other countries where they could find cheap labor under authoritarian regimes with no labor organizing or union structures to defend workers’ rights. They could therefore produce goods at very low cost and sell them to consumers in the United States.

Over the years, China has become a very important importer of Brazilian agricultural and mineral products and is now Brazil’s largest trading partner, particularly in agribusiness, cattle, and other exported goods. This has really threatened the United States’ ability to maintain its hegemony and control over Latin American economies, which has become a goal of the Donald Trump administration.

So, BRICS and its efforts represent, on the one hand, a reinforcement of Brazil’s independent foreign policy. On the other hand, they represent a shift away from the United States, partly because tariffs have made many Brazilian goods unprofitable to sell in the American market. Brazil has therefore sought new markets and increased its exports to China and other countries around the world. As a result, China’s influence and importance in Brazil have grown, which has also threatened the United States.

In a way, the Trump administration was hoping that Flávio Bolsonaro, if elected, would somehow block China’s growing influence in Brazil. On the other hand, Flávio Bolsonaro relied heavily on agribusiness to sustain his political base, and that sector was not interested in stopping shipments of soy, meat, or other goods to China because it was making a lot of money from those sales.

And so, there’s a very contradictory situation. Brazil wants to maintain close economic and political relations with the United States while also trying to counterbalance its influence by supporting the BRICS countries.

The irony of all this is that, although some BRICS countries can be defended as democracies that guarantee democratic rights for their citizens, other members of the coalition are far from democratic. Brazil therefore finds itself in a very strange position: as one of the world’s largest democracies, it is allying with authoritarian regimes to participate in a bloc challenging US hegemony.

And so, there are many contradictions in this realignment that I think have yet to play out and will become apparent in the immediate future.

Far-Right Resilience Could Deepen Brazil’s Polarization

Thousands of activists unite in protest for democracy and racial equality and against the Bolsonaro government in São Paulo, Brazil on June 07, 2020. Photo: Alf Ribeiro

And finally, Professor Green, your scholarship demonstrates that Brazil’s democratization has historically depended on sustained popular mobilization rather than electoral change alone. Given Lula’s narrow victory, Bolsonarismo’s resilience, and the conservative congressional balance, what would constitute meaningful democratic progress during his fourth term? Can Brazil move beyond recurring electoral confrontation toward more durable democratic institutions and inclusive citizenship?

Professor James N. Green: The challenge of the next four years is precisely what you’re pointing out. It involves both guaranteeing democratic institutions and continuing the socioeconomic programs of the Lula administration, which have had a very significant impact on sectors of society but face the challenges of huge budget deficits and the difficulty of sustaining social programs without raising taxes on the electoral base that supports them.

So, the challenge for the Workers’ Party will be to find the means to implement a successful social program that consolidates Lula’s legacy across his four terms and the term and a half of his successor, Dilma Rousseff, who was subsequently impeached. This will be the big challenge, and the right wing will be doing everything it can to undermine these programs in order to create the kind of economic and political chaos that would justify its return to power in 2030.

Therefore, the real challenge for social movements that are genuinely committed to democracy will be to support and sustain the progressive elements of Lula da Silva’s current and future government without abandoning their political principles, ideals, and values.

The lesson of the election turnaround was that popular mobilization can guarantee democratic processes, and it’s very important to sustain these mobilizations beyond electoral cycles. In other words, how can social movements be actively involved in building the new government while also feeling free to criticize it when it falls short?

This will be the challenge for social movements: to navigate the very complex political balance between support and criticism, while the far right waits for any missteps by the Lula government to immediately pursue impeachment proceedings against him or limit his political powers through Congress.

So, the challenges facing social movements and democratic forces in the coming period are immense. They won a victory with the electoral defeat of Flávio Bolsonaro, but he has not been definitively defeated.

In my view, the problems of the next four years are going to further intensify tensions between the left and the right and deepen the country’s polarization. This makes it very difficult to know to what extent democracy will be consolidated or weakened by the far right’s offensive against the Lula government, aimed at undermining it and thereby regaining power in 2030.

Dr. Roi Zur.

Dr. Zur: Prolonged Political Instability Could Consolidate Israel’s Populist Radical Right

Israel’s October 27 elections have exposed deepening ideological polarization, parliamentary fragmentation, and mounting challenges to democratic legitimacy. In an interview with the ECPS, Assistant Professor Roi Zur of the University of Essex examines Netanyahu’s electoral resilience, Likud’s transformation into a populist radical-right party, and the normalization of religious-nationalist extremism. Highlighting the growing ideological convergence between Likud and its far-right allies, Dr. Zur warns that prolonged coalition deadlock could further consolidate authoritarian-populist forces. He also examines the political exclusion of Arab parties, the decline of Israel’s liberal-left, and emerging claims of electoral fraud resembling Trumpian populism. Ultimately, the interview explores how political instability and ethnonationalist polarization threaten Israel’s democratic institutions and future political trajectory.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Israel’s October 27 elections have produced a fragmented political landscape, exposing the deepening ideological polarization, institutional vulnerabilities, and shifting boundaries of political legitimacy that characterize Israeli democracy. Although Likud remains the largest party, neither Benjamin Netanyahu’s religious-nationalist bloc nor his opponents have secured a parliamentary majority. The results reveal the resilience of Netanyahuism, the growing dominance of competing right-wing formations, Labor’s historical decline, and the potentially decisive role of Arab parties. Together, these developments raise fundamental questions about populism, democratic backsliding, secularism, and Palestinian rights.

In an extensive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Assistant Professor Roi Zur of the Department of Government at the University of Essex, whose research examines electoral competition, party strategies, and political polarization, offers a theoretically informed assessment of Israel’s evolving political landscape. His central warning is that prolonged political deadlock could further strengthen the forces responsible for Israel’s democratic deterioration. As Dr. Zur observes, “What seems more likely, in my view, is that we are heading into several months, or perhaps even a year, of political instability.” Crucially, he emphasizes that “Historically, such instability has helped the populist radical right maintain and consolidate its power.”

Dr. Zur situates this danger within Netanyahu’s transformation of Likud from a conventional conservative party into an increasingly radicalized populist formation. By systematically directing public frustration toward judicial authorities, security institutions, and allegedly unaccountable elites, Netanyahu has redefined political accountability through antagonistic populist narratives. As Dr. Zur argues, “Likud is no longer a classic center-right party. It increasingly resembles a European populist radical-right party.”

Equally consequential is the normalization of religious-nationalist extremism. Dr. Zur explains that Netanyahu’s cooperation with Itamar Ben-Gvir’s Otzma Yehudit and Bezalel Smotrich’s Religious Zionism has legitimized positions previously excluded from mainstream political discourse. These developments have fundamentally altered debates over territorial sovereignty, Palestinian rights, military conduct, and international law. Indeed, he argues that the ideological proximity between Likud and its radical-right partners makes it “increasingly difficult to differentiate between them.”

The interview also explores the structural obstacles confronting an alternative government, particularly the exclusion of Arab parties from legitimate coalition-making, disputes over ultra-Orthodox military exemptions, and the weakness of Israel’s liberal-left. Despite unprecedented Arab parliamentary representation, ethnonationalist boundaries continue to constrain coalition possibilities, while the Israeli–Palestinian conflict remains central to ideological competition.

Perhaps most disturbingly, Dr. Zur identifies emerging allegations of electoral illegitimacy as evidence of democratic erosion. He notes that “Likud is making statements claiming that the elections were stolen, much like Trump’s claims in the United States after his electoral defeat.” Against this backdrop, the interview illuminates how electoral fragmentation, populist delegitimation, and radical-right normalization could interact to reshape Israel’s democratic future.

Here is our interview with Assistant Professor Roi Zur, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.

Netanyahu’s Electoral Resilience Reflects Israel’s Rightward Shift

Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu.
Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu during his visit to Prague, Czech Republic, on December 5, 2012. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Zur, thank you for joining us. Despite the political fallout from October 7, the Gaza war, and the judicial overhaul, Likud remains Israel’s largest party, with approximately 27 seats in the provisional results. How do you explain Netanyahu’s enduring electoral appeal? Does his resilience reflect ideological loyalty, perceived leadership competence, or the personalized nature of Netanyahuism?

Dr. Roi Zur: It is important to put these results into context and perspective. On the one hand, Netanyahu’s party, Likud, lost five seats compared to the 2022 election and nine seats compared to its representation at the end of the previous Knesset, following its merger with a smaller party during the last term. This represents a significant loss in parliamentary seats.

On the other hand, Likud received approximately 50,000 more votes than in the previous election. These are therefore bittersweet results, particularly when considered in light of mainstream media polls conducted immediately before the election. It is quite surprising that Likud secured 27 seats, while media outlets affiliated with Netanyahu had projected around 30 or even 32. So, these results can be interpreted as both a loss and a victory for Netanyahu. From his perspective, the outcome remains ambiguous.

Now, considering everything Netanyahu and Israel more broadly have experienced over the past four years—including the problems preceding October 7, the fallout from the October 7 attacks, the Gaza war, and the judicial overhaul—this period can be characterized as a struggle for Israel’s very existence. Netanyahu, in a sense, has led Israel through these challenges, for better or worse, depending on one’s political perspective.

Within this context, the results suggest a shift in perceptions of Netanyahu among people who previously disliked or did not support him, but relatively little change among his established supporters. This indicates a degree of resilience at both the party and coalition levels.

Although Likud lost a substantial number of seats, we can also observe a rightward shift in Israeli public opinion. For example, research by Liran Harsgor of the University of Haifa shows that younger Israelis are more right-wing than older generations. Similarly, work by Gal Bitton identifies a modest but statistically significant rightward shift in ideological self-placement among Israelis displaced during the war.

Likud appears to have benefited from these developments, attracting voters who have moved to the right or already held more right-wing positions before the election. These gains are understandable, given that many voters identify with Likud’s policies during the war and in the preceding period.

This became particularly evident in the later stages of the campaign, when Netanyahu successfully differentiated himself from his former coalition partner, Gadi Eisenkot. Through Likud’s campaign, Eisenkot came to be perceived by many voters as more willing to cooperate with the Palestinians, including the Palestinian Authority, Palestinian citizens of Israel, and Arab parties in the Israeli parliament.

Neither Netanyahu nor Eisenkot Has a Viable Path to Power

The provisional results suggest approximately 53 seats for Netanyahu’s bloc, 48 for the predominantly Jewish-led opposition, and 19 for Arab parties. What governing alternatives are realistically available? Could an Eisenkot-led coalition overcome its ideological divisions, or might coalition fragmentation ultimately sustain Netanyahu’s political influence?

Dr. Roi Zur: Currently, there are no realistic alternatives. The numbers simply do not add up for either Netanyahu or Eisenkot.

To form a coalition, Eisenkot would have to break one of his two promises. On the one hand, he promised not to cooperate with non-Zionist parties. On the other, he promised not to cooperate with any ultra-Orthodox party that maintains its opposition to drafting ultra-Orthodox students into the army. It is unlikely that Eisenkot could pull this off and bring the Arab parties to the table. But even if the Arab parties agreed to support him and he agreed to cooperate with them, there is still Lieberman, the leader of one of the more right-wing opposition parties, who has repeatedly objected to cooperating with the Joint List and the ultra-Orthodox parties. So, there simply are not enough seats for Eisenkot to build a stable coalition without breaking one of his major campaign promises.

On the other hand, Netanyahu is also short of a majority. To form a governing majority, he would need to bring at least one opposition party into his coalition. He is six seats short, meaning that six seats would need to shift from the opposition to a Netanyahu-led coalition. Alternatively, at least 14 members would need to abstain to allow him to form a minority government, which seems unlikely at this point.

So, for either Netanyahu or Eisenkot to gain or retain power, they would have to be extremely creative and break at least one major election promise.

Netanyahu’s Populist Narrative Helped Deflect Responsibility for October 7

In your research on party strategies, you distinguish policy positions from valence attributes such as competence, integrity, and leadership. Following October 7, how did these considerations shape electoral competition? Did dissatisfaction with Netanyahu’s performance benefit alternative right-wing leaders more than parties advocating fundamentally different policies?

Dr. Roi Zur: We don’t yet have updated data showing which issues moved voters toward particular parties. However, we can draw on theoretical understanding and historical trends in Israel to consider what might have happened.

There is a substantial body of political science research dating back to the 1960s showing that voters consider the policy positions of political parties. At the same time, another large body of research demonstrates that voters also consider other party attributes, such as the leader’s popularity, competence, trustworthiness, and so on.

These considerations usually work together. From a voter’s perspective, the best option is someone who advocates policies close to their own preferences and is also competent. Moreover, perceptions of competence and trustworthiness are themselves related to how closely voters identify with a particular party.

In the case of Israel in 2026—and I should emphasize that this assessment is based on historical trends rather than updated data—we can imagine that some voters probably defected to parties further to the right, particularly Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism, which are more extreme than Likud, itself already a far-right party. Together, these two parties gained approximately 100,000 more votes than in 2022.

It seems to me that, following October 7, many voters perceived Likud, and especially Netanyahu, as responsible for what happened. However, during the war, many of these voters returned to Netanyahu’s camp because he was able, in a very populist way, to convince them that October 7 was not his fault and that he was the strong leader willing to fight to protect Israel.

His campaign claimed that it had reshaped the Middle East by removing the leadership of Iran, Hezbollah, Hamas, and so on. As a result, much of the blame associated with Netanyahu early in the campaign gradually evaporated, particularly among voters who already liked him.

Those who disliked Netanyahu, however, still regard him as one of the principal figures responsible, if not the most responsible, for October 7, the war, and everything that followed. But these voters were not supporting Netanyahu in the first place.

Ideological Polarization Is Deepening Across Israel’s Political Spectrum

Billboard reading “The Looting Government,” part of a protest campaign against the conservative coalition’s policies in Ra’anana, Israel, May 2023. Photo: Rene Van Den Berg

In “The Israeli Parties’ Positions in Comparative Perspective,” co-authored with Ryan Bakker, you demonstrate the distinctive importance of the Israeli–Palestinian conflict in structuring left–right competition. Does the October 27 election suggest a lasting rightward ideological realignment? Why has political competition increasingly shifted toward rival versions of nationalist and security-centered politics?

Dr. Roi Zur: Across the board, right-wing parties in Israel seem to have been shifting further to the right over the past few years, especially Likud, which was once a moderate-right party but is now considered a classic European far-right party. I think this process has continued over the past three or four years. However, our updated survey, which Ryan and I are currently conducting, is still in the field, so I don’t yet know exactly where the parties’ positions will fall. Judging from the campaign, though, it seems that the right wing is moving further to the right, the left wing further to the left, while parties in the middle remain in the center.

What I mean is that the structure of the party system, in terms of parties’ ideological positions, is based on an overarching left–right dimension. In politics, people commonly talk about left and right. In the European context, we know that this distinction generally refers to economic issues, such as taxation and housing policies, as well as certain social issues, such as immigration.

In Israel, however, when parties and their voters talk about left and right, they are primarily referring to questions of national identity: Where do we see ourselves as a country? What kind of country are we? Above all, they are referring to security issues. This has always been the case. Obviously, the importance of security increases in some periods and takes second place in others. But security has always been central to Israeli politics, and since October 7, it has probably become the most important dimension distinguishing political parties.

What does this mean in practice? Parties on the right adopt more hawkish positions regarding the territories in the West Bank, or Judea and Samaria. They express stronger opposition to Palestinian statehood and cooperation with the Palestinian Authority and advocate more offensive military strategies in Gaza, Lebanon, Iran, Syria, and elsewhere.

The left, by contrast, is more open to cooperation with Palestinians within Israel and with the Palestinian Authority, more receptive to international negotiations, and more supportive of land-for-peace agreements.

So, I don’t think this is a new reality. Rather, it is reshaping the political spectrum because, quite simply, Israel is part of the Middle East, where there is an ongoing conflict that needs to be resolved. Indeed, the question of the territories and the possibility of land-for-peace agreements have been central issues in Israeli politics since Israel occupied the Palestinian territories previously controlled by Jordan and Egypt in 1967.

Netanyahu Has Transformed Likud into a Populist Radical-Right Party

Netanyahu frequently frames political competition as a struggle between the authentic Israeli people and allegedly unaccountable judicial, media, and political elites. How central is this populist antagonism to Likud’s electoral resilience? Has Netanyahuism transformed the traditional nationalist right into a more explicitly populist political movement?

Dr. Roi Zur: The short answer is yes; he has. We have seen this transformation since the late 2010s and early 2020s, particularly when Netanyahu was first indicted and allegations of corruption against him emerged. Netanyahu made a decisive turn toward a populist agenda, consistently blaming the judicial system for problems in policymaking and accusing it of targeting him personally and attempting to remove him from office as Prime Minister.

This approach is not unique to Likud, but Likud is certainly the largest party and has also been in power for many years. What Netanyahu has managed to do is shift the blame for virtually any policy problem onto these allegedly unaccountable elites, whether within the security apparatus or the judicial system. In that regard, Likud is no longer a classic center-right party. It increasingly resembles a European populist radical-right party.

Likud Is Converging Ideologically with Israel’s Extreme Right

Itamar Ben-Gvir’s Otzma Yehudit and Bezalel Smotrich’s Religious Zionism retain significant parliamentary representation. How should we distinguish their religious-nationalist radicalism from Netanyahu’s populism? Have these parties shifted the boundaries of mainstream political discourse, particularly concerning Palestinian rights and territorial sovereignty?

Dr. Roi Zur: We can look at this in two ways. First, we can consider whether Likud, Otzma Yehudit, or Religious Zionism is closer to the far-right end of the left–right spectrum. In that regard, there is simply not much further to the right to go.

From a comparative perspective, Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism are as far right as parties can possibly be. If you look at the Chapel Hill Expert Survey, one of the largest datasets on political parties’ policy positions, these two parties are positioned as far to the right as the most extreme right-wing parties in Europe or elsewhere in the world. Now, Netanyahu and Likud have, in that sense, caught up with them. This raises questions about what it means to be on the right and what it means to be populist.

In both respects, these three parties are very close to one another. Likud is perceived as slightly less right-wing than Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism, but it remains very close to the far-right end of the spectrum. The three parties are also very similar in terms of their populism. In this regard, it is increasingly difficult to differentiate between them.

Over the past three years, we have seen Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism, but also parts of Likud, pushing the boundaries of the scale itself, making us reconsider where the far-right end of the left–right spectrum actually lies.

In Israeli politics, particularly in response to the war in Gaza, questions about what the Israeli army is allowed or not allowed to do, and to what extent the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) should comply with international law, have become increasingly prominent. The idea of allowing the military to operate without regard for international law—something that was not part of mainstream political discourse before October 7—has become much more mainstream. Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism have popularized such positions as legitimate expressions of political opinion. 

From their perspective, it is acceptable to advocate occupying the entire West Bank or reoccupying the Gaza Strip and rebuilding settlements in both the West Bank and Gaza. These positions were neither as mainstream nor as widely popularized before October 7.

Netanyahu Has Mainstreamed Previously Marginal Far-Right Positions

Election billboards of religious political parties Shas and Otzma Yehudit before Israel’s fourth election in two years in a street of Jerusalem on March 22, 2021. Photo: Gali Estrange.

Your research on party competition and ideological positioning offers a framework for examining the normalization of radical political alternatives. Has cooperation between Likud and the religious-nationalist parties of Ben-Gvir and Smotrich mainstreamed previously marginal positions? Does their electoral persistence reflect changing public preferences or the strategic repositioning of established right-wing parties?

Dr. Roi Zur: In addition to what I said earlier, through this cooperation, Netanyahu has legitimized the far-right thoughts, beliefs, and positions of parties and individuals who had previously been on the fringes of the Israeli political system.Since 2019, when the breakdown of the party system was at its height, Netanyahu has increasingly legitimized these positions. Ten or fifteen years ago, people like Ben-Gvir were not considered legitimate politicians. Their positions were regarded as far-right and remained outside the accepted political mainstream.

Since 2019, however, Netanyahu has legitimized them in the eyes of many voters. This is reflected in the fact that both parties have entered government, particularly Otzma Yehudit, which is slightly more extreme than the Religious Zionist Party. These parties have gained governmental power and shaped policies that, just ten or fifteen years ago, would have been considered outside the boundaries of politically legitimate positions.

Ultra-Orthodox Parties Are Losing Their Traditional Kingmaker Role

Shas and United Torah Judaism remain important coalition actors, while military exemptions for ultra-Orthodox men have become increasingly contentious. Could the conscription dispute restructure Israeli party competition? Is the secular–religious divide becoming more electorally consequential than conventional socioeconomic disagreements?

Dr. Roi Zur: There are two important points to make before answering this question. First, the election results show, for the first time in history, that there are more Arab members of the Knesset than ultra-Orthodox members. This represents a major shift in who holds political power and who can act as kingmakers. Historically, the ultra-Orthodox parties played that role and, more often than not, determined whether the center-left or center-right would come to power.

The second major shift is that the ultra-Orthodox parties are no longer in power and are not currently accepted as coalition partners by the center-left or the opposition to Netanyahu. This could change as the government formation process evolves. I have seen media reports suggesting that the ultra-Orthodox parties might allow Eisenkot to control the Knesset by abstaining from important votes, simply to keep things moving and avoid a second election. However, I am not sure they will actually do so.

Now, the second most important dimension of Israeli politics, after issues related to the Arab–Israeli conflict, is indeed the secular–religious divide: whether parties position themselves on the more Jewish or more democratic side of the political spectrum. The ultra-Orthodox parties are obviously at one end of this scale, emphasizing the Jewish character of the state more strongly and its democratic character less.

This divide has always been consequential in Israeli politics, and I think it was particularly important in this election. However, as we have seen, the ultra-Orthodox parties were less successful than in the past, suggesting that some voters who previously supported them preferred more right-wing parties instead.

The question of whether the government should draft ultra-Orthodox students into the army has also long been the second most important issue in Israeli politics, and I think it will remain so.

Returning to one of the earlier questions, if Eisenkot wants to form a government, one option would be to reach an agreement with the ultra-Orthodox parties. He promised not to do that, but it remains an option. If he has to break an electoral promise, he could say, “Okay, we’re going to break this promise to draft ultra-Orthodox students into the army and give them some concessions in return for replacing Netanyahu.”

Israeli Parliament Knesset.
Israeli Parliament Knesset. Photo: Dreamstime.

Secular Politics Does Not Necessarily Mean Liberal Politics

Avigdor Lieberman’s Yisrael Beytenu combines secular positions on military service and religious authority with strong nationalist security policies. How should we locate such parties within Israel’s multidimensional ideological space? Can secularization advance without corresponding liberalization on minority rights or the Palestinian question?

Dr. Roi Zur: We see this quite often in the Israeli political system. Lieberman’s party is somewhat unusual, as you pointed out. If we think about politics in two dimensions—secular versus religious on the one hand and left versus right on the other—secular parties are almost always positioned on the left or in the center of the left–right spectrum, while more religious parties tend to be more right-wing.

Yisrael Beytenu is unusual because it is closer to Likud on issues related to the general left–right dimension, particularly those concerning the Palestinian Authority, peace, and security. On the other hand, it is closer to left-wing parties on issues concerning social groups and the Jewish versus democratic character of the state. So, you are right to highlight this distinction.

When positioning Lieberman within the Israeli political spectrum, we need to be conscious of these differences. This is also what makes Lieberman particularly powerful right now, because he can decide whether to maintain his opposition to both ultra-Orthodox and Arab parties joining the government.

As we discussed earlier, Lieberman, like the other opposition parties, pledged to form a government that would include neither the ultra-Orthodox nor the Arab parties. However, it seems to me that, among the four leaders or parties in the Jewish opposition, Lieberman has the strongest objections to including either the ultra-Orthodox or Arab parties in a governing coalition.

The Failure of the Peace Process Accelerated Labor’s Electoral Decline

The historically dominant Labor Party now survives within the Democrats alliance, far removed from its former centrality in Israeli politics. What explains this profound electoral decline? Has Labor lost its organizational and social foundations, or has the growing salience of security and national identity displaced the economic and redistributive issues on which it once competed?

Dr. Roi Zur: It’s a chicken-and-egg question. What came first? We know that the party’s social power, organizational strength, and institutional foundations have gradually eroded over time. The Labor Party, Meretz, and now the Democrats have long since lost their former control over the government apparatus. They no longer possess the grassroots power they once had.

Labor’s decline essentially began in the early 2000s, when the peace process broke down and the Second Intifada erupted. Many Israelis associated the peace process with deteriorating security, and large numbers of voters abandoned the Labor Party, leading to its rapid electoral decline.

In the current election, however, the Democrats performed slightly better than in the previous one. If we consider the two Zionist left-wing parties that now constitute the Democrats, they received roughly the same number of votes as before but secured seven or eight seats in the Knesset, compared with the four seats they held in the previous parliament.

Centrist Parties Face a Structural Dilemma of Ideological Positioning

In “Stuck in the Middle: Ideology, Valence and the Electoral Failures of Centrist Parties,” you demonstrate that moderate parties can suffer from weak reputations for competence and leadership despite occupying electorally attractive positions. Could this framework help explain Labor’s decline and the limited appeal of the liberal-left? Can ideological moderation compensate for weakened political credibility?

Dr. Roi Zur: In theory, yes. The problem for parties in the center is that they have very little room to maneuver. If they move to the right, they risk being squeezed by more competent right-wing parties. If they move to the left, they face the same challenge from more competent left-wing parties.

In the case of Israel’s Labor Party, two developments occurred simultaneously in the early 2000s. First, Israeli public opinion shifted to the right. The electorate became more right-wing than before, leaving fewer voters who identified closely with Labor. As a result, regardless of whether Labor is perceived as competent or trustworthy, there are simply not enough voters inclined to support it because of this broader shift in Israeli public opinion.

In theory, Labor could moderate its positions and attract more centrist voters at the expense of other centrist parties. However, doing so would also risk losing its distinctive identity as the only Zionist left-wing party.

Ethnonationalist Exclusion Limits Arab Parties’ Coalition Potential

The Joint List and Ra’am could collectively hold approximately 19 seats, potentially making them decisive in government formation. Yet major Jewish-led parties remain reluctant to depend on their support. Does this exclusion reflect a broader ethnonationalist definition of legitimate political representation? Could Arab parliamentary participation become indispensable to forming an alternative government?

Dr. Roi Zur: First of all, the final, updated election results show that the two Arab parties secured 19 seats. As we discussed earlier, this is a unique result. I would not say that Arab voter turnout was the highest in Israeli electoral history, but it was certainly the highest in the last 30 years. Arab parties have also not achieved such electoral success during that period.

Now, about a week after the elections, but before the government formation process has begun, we can see two distinct narratives emerging in the media. The first comes from right-wing media outlets and politicians, who argue that any cooperation with Arab parties is illegitimate. According to this view, Arab parties should neither be included in government formation nor participate in policymaking.

On the other hand, center-left parties and their voters appear more open to cooperation with Arab parties. I saw a survey published a couple of days after the election asking supporters of Jewish opposition parties whether they would prefer forming a coalition with Arab parties, entering a coalition with Netanyahu, or holding another round of elections. A plurality, though not a majority, of these voters indicated that they would prefer a coalition with Arab parties rather than another coalition with Netanyahu and the right wing.

However, there is considerable variation in these ethnonationalist perceptions of political legitimacy. Voters who supported the Democrats are more open to cooperation with Arab parties than supporters of Yashar, Eisenkot’s party, or Bennett’s and Lapid’s parties. Those voters, in turn, are more willing to cooperate with Arab parties than Lieberman’s supporters.

Replacing Netanyahu May Not Transform Israel’s Palestinian Policy

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

Much of the anti-Netanyahu opposition remains committed to security-centered nationalism rather than a negotiated two-state solution. Would an Eisenkot-led government represent a substantive departure from Netanyahu’s approach to Gaza and the West Bank, or primarily a change in leadership competence and governing style? What electoral conditions could make Palestinian self-determination politically salient again?

Dr. Roi Zur: This is the million-dollar question. If a new government were formed, which does not seem likely at this point, would its policies be any different? First of all, it depends on the composition of that government. If it were an opposition government supported by the ultra-Orthodox parties, or the current coalition joined by one of the opposition parties, we would be unlikely to see any significant change.

A Palestinian state has never been popular among Jewish voters in Israel, but since October 7, the idea has become almost a curse for the majority of voters. Of course, attitudes vary both generationally and ideologically, with people on the center-left more open to the idea than those on the right.

If we consider Eisenkot specifically, just this morning I saw a report in which he discussed the options for the day after the war ends. He made it very clear that he considers the Palestinian Authority illegitimate, much like the other right-wing parties in Israel. Instead, he expressed support for what the Americans call the Board of Peace, the technocratic organization intended to deal with Gaza.

So, if we see any change, it will be because Eisenkot, Bennett, and Lieberman have changed their core positions on Palestinian statehood. But for this to happen, we would first need to see a Jewish-Arab coalition, followed by a successful process of changing the situation in Gaza. These developments would take many years. I do not think we are likely to see them in the next couple of years.

Coalition Deadlock and Democratic Backsliding Threaten Israel’s Political Future

And finally, Professor Zur, your research highlights how party positions, issue salience, leadership reputations, and ideological polarization interact in shaping electoral competition. Looking beyond the immediate coalition negotiations, what developments could fundamentally reshape Israel’s party system? Might the country experience a renewed center-left alternative, further populist radical-right consolidation, or prolonged competition among different forms of nationalism?

Dr. Roi Zur: The first priority for the center-left, or the left more broadly, is to gain power and then demonstrate that it can govern successfully. The first step would be to form a coalition, gain control of the Knesset, and provide citizens with, first and foremost, security and, second, economic success. If they can achieve this over a full four-year term, voters may shift back toward them, or at least the Jewish electorate might.

What seems more likely, in my view, is that we are heading into several months, or perhaps even a year, of political instability. Historically, such instability has helped the populist radical right maintain and consolidate its power, contributing to its current strength.

As for the nature of political competition, we will continue to see a classic populist agenda, particularly from the populist right and Netanyahu’s political environment. In fact, we are already witnessing it. Likud is making statements claiming that the elections were stolen, much like Trump’s claims in the United States after his electoral defeat. These statements allege that Arab voters were bribed, that their turnout was illegitimate, that the elections were bought, and that the judicial authorities overseeing the elections were incompetent and failed to do their job.

The next few days will provide a great deal of new information. We will learn which party or political leader receives the first opportunity to form a government, whether that will be Eisenkot, and whether he can gain control of the Knesset and the legislative process.

These two questions will shape Israeli politics over the coming years. I want to emphasize one important point here: if Eisenkot can gain control of the Knesset within the next month, his coalition could repeal much of the judicial overhaul legislation that the previous government worked on for four years.

A substantial portion of the legislation concerning government control over the judicial system is scheduled to take effect on January 1. This, in my view, is the main reason Eisenkot is in such a hurry to gain control of Parliament and the legislative process, even if forming a coalition government takes another three, four, or six months.

Dr. Subir Sinha.

Dr. Sinha: India’s Youth Anger Is Unraveling Modi’s Authoritarian Populism

In an in-depth interview with the ECPS, Dr. Subir Sinha, Director of the SOAS South Asia Institute, examines how India’s emerging Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) is challenging Narendra Modi’s authoritarian-populist hegemony. Situating youth mobilization within broader crises of unemployment, neoliberal restructuring, electoral legitimacy, and Hindu majoritarianism, Dr. Sinha argues that Modi’s strategies for containing generational discontent have begun to unravel. He identifies the CJP as a potential “counter-people” capable of challenging Modi’s construction of political sovereignty through digital resistance, Dalit and Muslim participation, and decentralized mobilization. Drawing comparisons with youth movements in Senegal, Bangladesh, and Serbia, he explores how state repression can undermine political legitimacy and how popular protest might evolve into structural democratic transformation. He emphasizes the importance of translating counter-hegemonic mobilization into legislative power.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

India’s emerging youth revolt is exposing the fragility of Narendra Modi’s authoritarian-populist hegemony, challenging not only the government’s developmental promises but also its construction of political legitimacy, popular sovereignty, and Hindu majoritarian identity. In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Subir Sinha, Reader in the Theory and Politics of Development, Director of the SOAS South Asia Institute, member of the SOAS Food Studies Centre, and affiliate of the Department of History at SOAS University of London, examines how generational discontent is developing into a potentially transformative counter-hegemonic movement.

Across India, Senegal, Bangladesh, Serbia, Nepal, and France, youth-led protests have challenged corruption, economic insecurity, political exclusion, and established structures of power. Our discussion examines India’s emerging Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) movement within this comparative framework, exploring why similar generational grievances produce different forms of mobilization, institutional responses, and democratic outcomes. Dr. Sinha’s scholarship on authoritarian populism, political hegemony, and social movements provides valuable insights into these dynamics.

At the center of Dr. Sinha’s analysis is the argument that unemployment, educational injustice, and democratic exclusion have generated a profound crisis of political representation. Observing that Modi’s strategies to absorb popular discontent into authoritarian populism have begun to unravel, he identifies the CJP as potentially “the central mechanism through which a counter-people is being imagined and manifested on the streets.”

This emerging counter-people challenges the ideological foundations of Modiism. Dr. Sinha argues that young protesters are dismantling Modi’s conception of “the people,” creating space for Dalits, Muslims, and economically marginalized citizens within a more inclusive political imagination. Digital mobilization has proved particularly disruptive. According to Dr. Sinha, “the social media game that the BJP had mastered” has slipped from its control, while “the image of a feared and revered leader” has been broken.

State repression, meanwhile, risks further undermining the government’s legitimacy. Dr. Sinha describes how police violence and vigilante attacks have alienated even some longstanding BJP supporters, exposing tensions between coercive authority and democratic consent.

The interview also explores a striking cultural contradiction: Dr. Sinha observes “an increasing feeling that Hinduism is in danger from Hindutva,” suggesting that dissatisfaction with religious majoritarianism may extend beyond conventional opposition constituencies.

Ultimately, Dr. Sinha distinguishes between temporary institutional concessions and enduring structural transformation. Drawing comparative lessons from youth movements worldwide, he argues that meaningful change requires converting popular mobilization into legislative power. The decisive question is whether India’s fragmented movements can construct an inclusive counter-people capable of translating resistance into lasting democratic change.

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

Modi’s Strategy of Neutralizing Youth Anger Has Begun to Unravel

Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) supporters celebrates for partys victory in the 2019 Lok Sabha polls, in Guwahati, Assam, India on May 23, 2019. Photo: Talukdar David.

Dr. Sinha, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with India’s Cockroach Janta Party, which emerged from anger over examination irregularities and youth unemployment before expanding into protests over electoral accountability. How do you explain this transformation from sectoral grievances into a broader challenge to Modi’s government? Does it signify an emerging crisis of legitimacy for his authoritarian-populist project?

Dr. Subir Sinha: Many jobs in India, especially in the state sector, as well as admissions to universities, particularly for technical degrees in engineering and medicine, are determined through competitive exams. Over the past 10 years, there have been many instances in which examination papers have been leaked in advance and then sold in the underground market for large sums of money. In other cases, exams are held, but the results are delayed, or the results are declared, but no appointments are made on their basis, even two, three, or four years later.

There were protests over these issues well before the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) took shape. But in most of these cases, particularly in the states of Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, which are part of the Hindi heartland, where Mr. Modi commands considerable electoral support, student movements have been met with massive repression. There is a term in India called lathi charge, which refers to the police using batons to beat protesters. We have witnessed that, as well as the use of water cannons. Elected politicians regularly threaten that leaders or participants in these movements will find it difficult to obtain employment in the state sector. In some cases, there has been even further state repression, such as the use of bulldozers to demolish the homes of protesters or their leaders. So, this has been a simmering issue for some time.

Now, India has high unemployment among people under 30. Remember, people under 30 make up 52% of the Indian population, and there is a huge amount of underemployment in that age group, affecting something like 25 to 30% of university graduates. On the one hand, we are being told that our growth rate is the highest or second highest in the world—7.8%, according to the Prime Minister. But the employment situation for young people entering the job market, both in terms of examinations and their results, and particularly in terms of underemployment, is very poor.

So, when the Cockroach Janta Party emerged—and we have had very popular Bollywood movies dealing with the question of educated unemployment since the pandemic—it is also worth looking further back historically. Even the movement against Mrs. Gandhi’s Emergency from 1975 to 1977, when she suspended democratic rights and institutions, was led by the so-called unemployed youth. Unemployed young people have historically had considerable potential to force radical political change, and there is a vast reservoir of disappointment and anger among the youth.

Mr. Modi and the BJP’s strategies to neutralize that anger or incorporate it into their own brand of authoritarian populism worked for a while but have now begun to unravel over the last two or three years.

Now, you asked a couple of valid questions: How does this narrow movement concerning employment issues become a broader movement concerning the theft of votes and, effectively, electoral irregularities?

India’s Young People Have Lost Faith in Elections, Media, and Courts

I think the people leading the Cockroach Janta Party realized this fairly early on. Remember, they are highly educated. They have degrees from Boston University in political communications. They themselves come from Dalit backgrounds, among whom Modi also has considerable support. So, they quickly realized that there are three different routes through which governments can be held accountable in a democracy. The famous French historian of democracy, Rosanvallon, argues that for democracy to function well, you need counter-democracy, or outlets for counter-democracy. In other words, beyond the ballot box, how do you keep governments in check within a democratic framework? We have three different ways of doing that.

Obviously, number one is elections. But this is where the issue of the electoral system’s lack of credibility comes in, which is very widespread, including among people who regularly support Modi. That is really quite something, because we are looking at approximately 15%, which would be a conservative estimate. In Delhi, something like 40–50% of voters’ names are missing from the voters’ list, even though they have all the documents normally required to prove citizenship.

Whether they are being targeted or not, by some counts, in some places, 70% of those left off the voters’ list are Muslims. But that’s not all. My sister, for example, in Calcutta, an upper-middle-class woman, is also missing from the list, along with her entire family and her neighbors. This is something really widespread, and we don’t have a full explanation for it.

You may also be aware that Mr. Modi got a law passed last year granting full immunity to any Chief Election Commissioner during and after their tenure in office. At the time of that vote in Parliament, 140 opposition members were suspended.

It’s a very strange situation. That’s the first issue. The elections, the Election Commissioner, and their conduct do not give young people confidence that the electoral and legislative routes can resolve their grievances.

Number two is the media. We have a very high concentration of media ownership. There is a term used in India, Godi media, referring to media that sit in Mr. Modi’s lap. You will find very few voices critical of the government, which is why young people no longer get their news from mainstream media. They have their own sources through YouTube and other platforms.

And finally, the courts. Their attitude toward grievances brought before them for adjudication against Mr. Modi seems to be that they either do not take them seriously or fail to act decisively. For example, it was a Supreme Court justice who called young people “cockroaches,” in response to which this party emerged. Despite mounting evidence of electoral malpractice, if one wants to call it that, or certainly anomalies, the courts have not yet reached any decisive conclusions.

Those are the three routes. Perhaps there is a fourth one, which is popular protest. But now we have the complete criminalization of popular protests and the banning of protests at their historical sites. Young people’s aspirations cannot be pursued through legislative, media, popular protest, or judicial routes, which is why the agitation continues.

The Cockroach Janta Party Is Creating a Counter-People to Challenge Modi

Cockroach Janata Party.
Photo: Screenshot from CJP website.

In your article “Fragile Hegemony: Modi, Social Media, and Competitive Electoral Populism in India,” you emphasize the vulnerability of political dominance to alternative forms of popular mobilization. Does the Cockroach Movement represent the emergence of the “counter-people” you anticipated, capable of challenging Modi’s construction of political legitimacy?

Dr. Subir Sinha: Yes, I do think they represent one of the initiatives to create a counter-people. I should emphasize that, in my understanding of populism, as I argued in that particular article, there is no stable construction of “the people.” Rather, there are competing, overlapping, and sometimes perhaps cooperating mechanisms through which a counter-people can be imagined.

This happens through social movements and different political parties, taking different forms across India’s states. As you know, India has many states and different regional political parties, so the idea of a counter-people will not be uniform across the country.

But I do think the CJP is a very important initiative and perhaps, at the moment, the central mechanism through which a counter-people is being imagined and manifested on the streets.

In relation to the article you just mentioned, their use of social media has been exemplary. Mr. Modi and his ruling party did not really anticipate this and are finding it very difficult to deal with.

India’s Youth Are Dismantling Modi’s Construction of “the People”

In “Modi’s ‘People’ and Populism’s Imagined Communities,” you examine Hindutva’s transformation of the constitutional idea of “We the People” into a majoritarian political identity. Could the Cockroach Movement articulate a more inclusive conception of popular sovereignty, or might its anti-establishment rhetoric reproduce some of the exclusionary tendencies of populism itself?

Dr. Subir Sinha: To answer that question, let us first look at how they dismantled Mr. Modi’s notion of the people and used popular media to do so. This brings us to the question of a new kind of popular sovereignty.

As I said earlier, this particular generation relies primarily on social media for its news. One of the major reasons for Mr. Modi’s success, which I discussed in that 2017 article on fragile hegemony that you mentioned, was that his party was the first to recognize the power of social media. Modi had accounts on Facebook and then Twitter, along with large WhatsApp groups, well before any other political party. They literally had that entire space to themselves.

One of Mr. Modi’s successes has now become one of the reasons for his slight unraveling: the very large number of Indians who have smartphones. India is probably first or second in the world in this regard. It also has one of the largest user bases for many platforms, including WhatsApp, other Meta platforms, and X. These platforms worked very well for Mr. Modi for a long time, particularly for mobilizational purposes. But the Cockroach Janta Party and the country’s youth were born into that ecosystem. They know social media far better than a BJP official in their 50s running the party’s so-called IT cell. The way they used Instagram completely took the BJP by surprise. Secondly, their use of the filthiest abuses directed at Mr. Modi in their posts, songs, and memes dismantled the people–leader relationship on which Mr. Modi’s hegemony had so far rested.

That relationship was based on the idea that Mr. Modi is above politics. There are three or four different ways of portraying him: perhaps as a god, because that comes up very often; as a highly religious person—we have many pictures and video clips showing him worshipping; and as a father figure. During the COVID pandemic, for example, you could see him literally emulating a father figure from a very popular television show, lighting lamps and praying to the gods to save us from COVID. Now, the Cockroach Janta Party’s construction of the counter-people does not rely on these kinds of tropes.

A New Counter-People Could Challenge Modi’s Hindu Majoritarianism

For Modi, obviously, Hindu majoritarianism is central because 80% of the population is Hindu. But within the CJP, you see Muslims among the second-rung leadership, even if not in the top leadership. There is massive participation by Muslims, both in the protests themselves and, interestingly, among those who provide food to protesters for free. They might arrive at protest sites with vans full of food packets to distribute, along with water, soft drinks, fruit, and other things. For those who were excluded from Modi’s conception of the people, this is a good way to reassert themselves, participate in these demonstrations, and signal that they, too, are part of the people. The CJP has been open to their participation.

The second issue—and we don’t talk enough about this—is that the violence associated with Modi, his party, and his political formation has been directed primarily against Muslims, as has been fairly well documented around the world. But the second target of violence by Hindutva groups has been the Dalits. This is a paradoxical relationship because, on the one hand, Dalits have enjoyed more political representation through the Hindu far right than ever before in the country’s history. The mode of incorporation has been to make them legislators or members of Parliament and things like that.

But at the same time, if they step outside certain boundaries—for example, by falling in love with a girl from a so-called upper caste, or even by wearing a turban, riding a motorbike, riding a horse, or keeping a mustache, things supposedly considered transgressive for someone so historically subordinated—there have been numerous incidents of violence against them, especially in Uttar Pradesh, which is the absolute base of the BJP’s power. So, not surprisingly, educated Dalits have been at the forefront of the CJP. A very large section of Dalit youth is no longer happy to be seen simply as Dalits incorporated into Hindutva at a subordinate level, within well-understood and well-specified boundaries.

Then there are very large numbers of young people who are neither Muslim nor Dalit but face very bleak employment prospects. Whenever there is an opening for what might be considered lowly jobs—and I don’t mean to denigrate these jobs; I’m simply making the point that they are not the jobs people aspire to in terms of status or money—such as a railway guard, someone cleaning a railway station, or someone employed at the lowest level of a post office or bank, you will find millions of people applying for tens of jobs, many of them with PhDs. So, you have a very high number of people with higher education degrees and very few jobs available to them.

If you think in terms of the composition of the people, there is a vast reservoir of resentment and aspirations among a restless population—the classic background against which forms of populism emerge. So, there is such a reservoir for the production of a counter-people.

Now, whether or not the CJP will become populist, I’m not the first to say that all Indian politics is, at some level, populist. And that will likely be the case here as well. But there are different ways of being populist. You can be a populist by following the great man and essentially becoming part of an authoritarian-populist definition of the people. But as you saw in Serbia, you can also have a leaderless youth movement in which the idea of the people and that of the leadership are not the same. 

As you mentioned regarding political sovereignty, there are different ways of thinking about it. There is the Modi model, where, we are told, the people have vested all their hopes, imaginations, and ways of authorizing power in one man. The other model could be much more decentralized, with far more inclusive leadership. But we are still a fair distance away from the CJP becoming a political party with any electoral footprint. So, at the moment, we are looking at this interesting situation in which they are negotiating their relationship with the established political parties.

Modi’s Image as a Feared and Revered Leader Has Been Broken

Narendra Modi.
Narendra Modi files his nomination papers from the Vadodara Lok Sabha seat in Gujarat amid tight security and supporter turnout. Photo: Nisarg Lakhmani | Dreamstime.

The Cockroach Movement transformed an insulting metaphor into a digitally mediated identity of resistance. Drawing on your research into Modi’s social-media populism, how does this strategy challenge the BJP’s communicative dominance? Can online satire and decentralized mobilization develop into durable counter-hegemonic political organization?

Dr. Subir Sinha: First of all, shortly after the protests emerged and the first few CJP demonstrations took place, abusive memes targeting Mr. Modi began circulating. His party fired the entire so-called IT cell. A very influential man named Amit Malviya, who had been the architect of Modi’s social media policy, was fired, and many of the main influencers were let go.

Obviously, they realized they had made a huge mistake and that young people had left them behind in terms of social media. Mr. Modi, not exactly someone known for having little to say, was completely blindsided by this development. His response was also very ham-handed.

He tried to act cool, introducing a number of memes using Gen Z language, which was also very awkward. Then he tried other things. These days, among right-wing youth in India, especially the religious right, there is something called bhajan clubbing. Bhajan means religious chanting. Basically, people gather in halls and similar venues where religious songs are played with techno music, and they dance. When Mr. Modi attended one of these events to signal, “I’m one of you,” that, too, was very awkward.

So, at the moment, the social media game that the BJP had mastered, with Mr. Modi himself as a central figure, has slipped out of its hands. Anyone who follows him, as I do, can see that almost anything he posts on X or other social media platforms attracts hundreds of abusive responses from very young people. The image of a feared and revered leader, which was very much constructed through social media, has been broken in a way that I cannot see being restored anytime soon.

India’s Jobless Growth Has Created a Massive Reservoir of Discontent

In “Strong Leaders, Authoritarian Populism and Indian Developmentalism,” you connect Modi’s political project to neoliberal restructuring and economic insecurity. To what extent do unemployment, educational competition, and frustrated aspirations explain the current youth mobilization? Has the gap between developmental promises and material opportunities become a structural vulnerability for Modiism?

Dr. Subir Sinha: What we have been seeing in India is effectively jobless growth. In fact, I increasingly feel that the term neoliberalism is somewhat limiting when it comes to understanding what exactly has happened over the last five years. When Mr. Modi came to power in 2014, he had a very neoliberal platform. The state would withdraw from business, businesses would become much more autonomous, and the government would facilitate this process. He even had a slogan, “Ease of Doing Business.”

But over time, other elements have become very powerful. I’m not too sure whether the acute concentration of media ownership in the hands of Mr. Ambani and Mr. Adani, two of the richest people in the world who have backed Mr. Modi, fits that model. In fact, when Mr. Adani bought the NDTV news channel, he even said, “This is a gift for my friend, Mr. Modi,” and things like that. So, while elements of neoliberalism certainly remain, there are many other factors at play.

Take, for example, the huge subsidies. You may know that half of the Indian population receives food subsidies from the government. That is a damning indictment of the current economic model: half the population cannot afford to buy food from the market and has to be provided with considerable amounts of food.

His neoliberal model began to unravel before the 2024 elections. There are several symptoms of this. One is the farmers’ movement. Remember, India remains among the countries with the highest proportions of their populations engaged in agriculture, close to 50%. We have never really completed the agrarian transition, and the so-called agrarian questions remain unresolved.

We also have a situation of highly concentrated employment. This is why large numbers of migrant laborers leave the poorest parts of the country and flock to Delhi, Bangalore, Calcutta—well, not so much Calcutta—Mumbai, Hyderabad, and Chennai. In fact, just last week, our Minister for Trade and Commerce, Piyush Goyal, while speaking to investors in Europe, said, “Come to India. Our workers work seven days a week. They don’t complain about hours, and they never ask, ‘Can I get the weekend off?’”

The idea of a hyper-exploited labor force made available to domestic and transnational capital as a main engine of Indian growth has been the definitive feature of Indian neoliberalism. We know that neoliberalism worldwide has depended on the demobilization and demoralization of labor.

From that perspective, this is why we have such a massive reservoir of discontent. Again, one has to go back to the pandemic for insights into what is happening now, because it revealed the extent of the precarity faced by migrant workers. Something like 80% of them either received no wages or experienced wage theft during that period. It also became clear that many people were in very precarious employment in the cities for most of the year but had to return to their villages for part of the year.

Modi’s Neoliberal Model Is Unraveling 

So, they are not a working class in the classical sense. They constitute a restless, somewhat footloose population—half-working-class, half-peasant, partly urban, and partly rural. That is the main demographic. Looking around the world, at Brazil, the US, and similar cases, it is not surprising to me that victims of neoliberalism are essentially up for grabs by different political projects.

In some cases, they mobilize on their own. In others, they flock to political parties on the basis of region, caste, or tribal affiliations. In areas where other political parties have done considerable work, they might come forward and become part of those formations. But the CJP is very easy to follow, and they are fun, much as Modi’s campaigns could have been seen as fun at one point. Their campaigns are very catchy, and that poses a major problem for Modi’s particular neoliberal model.

Keep in mind, however, that the CJP itself has not necessarily positioned itself as anti-neoliberal, although it has identified a number of people, such as Adani, Ambani, and others, as being among its targets. We have not yet heard a comprehensive anti-neoliberal program articulated by the CJP, although many of its allies have been campaigning against neoliberalism for quite some time.

Exclusion from Voter Lists Is Becoming Exclusion from Social Welfare

The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) protest.
Students participate in a peaceful nighttime protest organized by the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) in New Delhi, India. Demonstrators sit together on the road, holding placards and posters, chanting slogans, and expressing their demands. Photo: Kamlesh Kumar / Dreamstime.

The Cockroach Movement’s October protests challenged the Election Commission’s voter-list revisions, which critics argue risk disenfranchising eligible citizens. How should we understand this shift from demands for educational fairness to contestation over political citizenship? Does it expose a deeper tension between formal electoral democracy and substantive democratic inclusion?

Dr. Subir Sinha: As I mentioned earlier, there are several paths through which people can voice their grievances. The electoral path, which involves electing representatives to state legislative assemblies or Parliament, is one of the main, commonsensical ways for people to seek redress. But we have had this particular problem with the voter-list revision, which was announced rather hurriedly. The former Chief Election Commissioner, S. Y. Quraishi, who was an exemplary Chief Election Commissioner, has argued that there is no constitutional basis for this exercise. In fact, we still don’t know who authorized it. If you have been following this story, you will know that there are three Election Commissioners: the Chief Election Commissioner and two others. There is controversy over whether the other two were consulted when these decisions were made.

Secondly, because of the particular app that was chosen, it appears that the deletions were directed from New Delhi. By law, these decisions were supposedly to be made at the level of the polling booth and constituency. In fact, a couple of booth-level officers responsible for this process have committed suicide because of the pressures they felt. So, it appears to be a highly centralized process, surrounded by a kind of opacity. You cannot ask questions. The courts respond by saying, “No, this seems okay to us.” And the Election Commissioner has been extremely arrogant in responding to what seemed like relatively reasonable questions from the opposition.

To disenfranchise 15–20% of the population, or to cast doubt on the eligibility of 50% of people, is a huge thing in a democracy. Previously, we had been told that this exercise would have no implications for citizenship or the benefits associated with citizenship, such as social welfare programs. But now some states are saying, “If you’re not on the electoral roll, how can you claim that you are eligible for any of these benefits?” So, what began as a restricted issue of inclusion on the voters’ list has snowballed into exclusions from universal social welfare programs, and that’s a pretty big development.

Moreover, as many people have pointed out, it is not just the deletions. There are also mysterious additions to the electoral roll. Right now, in Uttar Pradesh, six million people have been mysteriously added to the electoral roll. No one knows who these people are. In fact, in the 2024 elections, Mr. Modi ended up with 240 seats, representing a loss of 20% of his seats in Parliament. There is widespread speculation that 60 to 80 of those 240 seats were won through mysterious additions to the number of votes polled. So, at the end of the day, if your figure is X, because the counting does not happen immediately but continues over several days, by the sixth or seventh day, that figure could become X plus 20,000.

We were speaking with the former Chief Election Commissioner, Mr. Quraishi, who said, “Listen, India is a huge country. People might still be standing in line to vote, so we can accept an upward revision of up to 4–5% in the number of votes polled. But an upward revision of 10–15% in the votes polled just seems unbelievable.”

We saw this in Uttar Pradesh and also in Maharashtra, where Mumbai is located. There have been a number of such anomalies, including in the counting of votes. Someone appears to be leading, then the system goes offline—“Oh, there has been a power cut”—and when the system comes back online, the BJP is leading.

So, faith in the electoral system is declining to such an extent that the electoral and legislative pathways for achieving the changes young people want to have become very difficult. That is why the CJP’s list of demands now includes changes to the conduct of the Election Commission and a ban on the government offering post-retirement jobs to Election Commissioners.

India’s Authoritarian Repression Is Losing Its Popular Legitimacy

Babasaheb Ambedkar Marathwada University (BAMU)
Protest against the CAA and NRC at Dr. Babasaheb Ambedkar Marathwada University (BAMU), Aurangabad, Maharashtra, India, as students and citizens demonstrate in defense of constitutional rights. Photo: Imran Shaikh.

Recent demonstrations have encountered preventive detentions, restrictions on mobility, and interruptions to communications. In light of your work on authoritarian populism, how should we interpret these responses? Does repression consolidate Modi’s authority by discouraging dissent, or can it inadvertently broaden opposition by exposing the coercive foundations of political dominance?

Dr. Subir Sinha: India leads the world in internet shutdowns. It also leads the world in blocking certain apps, and this is not even a new phenomenon. It used to be restricted to certain places, such as Kashmir and the Indian Northeast, where there have been numerous demonstrations. Mr. Modi then extended these methods to the demonstrations held by farmers during the so-called Farmers’ Movement, as well as to the movement against the Citizenship Amendment Act of 2020, which involved large demonstrations around the time of the pandemic. This movement ended with a massive spate of violence in the national capital, in which many Muslims, as well as some Hindus, were killed.

So, these are tried-and-tested methods that Mr. Modi has used. People used to consider such measures justified because Mr. Modi and the media he controls rhetorically labeled protesters as members of the Tukde-Tukde Gang, meaning people who want to dismember the country into tukdes, or pieces; urban Naxals, essentially Maoists living in cities; or, in the case of the farmers’ movement, Khalistanis, associating them with terrorist attempts to create a separate state of Khalistan from Punjab.

At the rhetorical level, they used these descriptors for the movements in ways that effectively, and discursively, authorized violence. If someone is labeled a terrorist, many people would support state violence against them. If you call someone a Maoist, having already claimed that Maoists are waging a civil war in the center of the country, there will obviously be people who say, “Yeah, that’s a good thing.” Similarly, if you refer to protesters as separatists or members of the Tukde-Tukde Gang, you can mobilize a degree of popular authorization for state violence.

Even now, there is a core of Modi supporters who essentially ask, “What is a strong leader for?” In fact, they regard authoritarianism as a positive thing. Let’s not forget that India is the largest market for Mein Kampf in the world. So, there is a streak of authoritarianism, which I discuss in my Strong Leaders paper.

Modi’s Use of Vigilantes Is Deepening Public Anger Against His Government

Many of our nationalist leaders, such as Subhas Chandra Bose, advocated a 20-year period of hard dictatorship. Mrs. Gandhi obviously provided a prior example of this sort of thing. So, authoritarianism is not without popular support. In 1997, on the 50th anniversary of Indian independence, one of our leading magazines conducted a survey in which 30% of Indians expressed support for the idea of a limited dictatorship. So, there is some support for authoritarianism in popular perceptions and expectations of political leadership. But that support has diminished considerably, partly because of what we are seeing in the CJP protests. Who are the people out on the streets in Delhi?

There are many different people, but a large proportion are English-speaking, from elite universities, and from the middle and upper-middle classes. In fact, Neha Bora, a left-wing leader of these demonstrations and a PhD scholar at Jawaharlal Nehru University (JNU), has said publicly that both her parents were hardcore BJP supporters and worshippers of Mr. Modi. When she joined the left-wing party, they threatened to disown her. In fact, her mother later joined the demonstrations when protesters were being assaulted. Many people who had never been politically active saw the police brutality in Delhi and decided that they could no longer stand by while young people were being assaulted.

Another thing that has really upset people is that Mr. Modi’s party does not rely solely on the police. It also makes extensive use of vigilantes affiliated with its political formation, who are given police uniforms and clubs with nails sticking out. They enter crowds and beat the hell out of demonstrators. This has been so extensively exposed on social media by the CJP and its affiliated protest organizations that even Modi supporters have become deeply upset.

In my own circle of friends, there are lifelong BJP and RSS supporters who were initially skeptical of the vote-theft allegations. But now they and their entire families have been left off the voters’ list, and they cannot seem to find an easy way to get back onto it. So, they feel that something is wrong.

Any Opposition Coalition in India Must Cross Caste, Class, and Religious Divides

Women from farming families participate in a peaceful protest against India’s farm laws in New Delhi, January 2021. The farmers’ movement drew millions of participants and became one of the largest protest mobilizations in contemporary India. Photo: Dreamstime.

Your research contrasts authoritarian populism with the agrarian populism of India’s farmers’ movement, which secured the withdrawal of the 2020 farm laws. What lessons could the Cockroach Movement draw from that experience? Can students, precarious workers, farmers, and marginalized communities construct a durable coalition across their different economic and political interests?

Dr. Subir Sinha: As I said in my article on the Farmers’ Movement, it was a very significant movement that achieved a very significant victory. It was not a complete victory, and I don’t think that, in this day and age, any opposition movement in India can achieve a complete victory. But the partial victory they achieved was very important because it prevented the complete rollback of the last remaining independence that farmers had. So, the movement was not against capitalist agriculture; it was against neoliberal agriculture, and that distinction is important. In many cases, it was led by very rich farmers, as well as moneylenders and others. So, it was a cross-class movement.

Interestingly, however, it was not a national movement. It was concentrated primarily in the Green Revolution areas: western Uttar Pradesh, Haryana, and Punjab. Some years earlier, farmers from another major Green Revolution rice-producing area in the south, Tamil Nadu, had been coming to Delhi, without much success, to highlight some of their key concerns. The central issue was support prices for agricultural produce: the state should boost prices by procuring produce at a basic minimum price and include more crops, vegetables, and other agricultural products in the list of commodities it would purchase at that minimum price. The mainstream left parties were also quite important in mobilizing farmers, among whom they have always been fairly powerful.

But there are other issues, particularly caste. For example, even in Punjab, there are migrant laborers from my home state of Bihar and elsewhere, many of them Dalit farmers. Would rich farmers agree to an agricultural minimum wage? That wasn’t clear. The rich farmers’ organizations in Punjab were more progressive and more accommodating toward Dalit-caste laborers. But in neighboring Haryana, they were much more conservative. They did not want the farmers’ movement to become a vehicle through which Dalit agricultural workers and small-scale farmers could voice their agenda or in any way threaten the localized hegemony of rich farmers. So, even within the farmers’ movement, there was no genuinely all-India bloc encompassing everyone working in agriculture.

As far as the endurance of a lasting opposition bloc is concerned, all blocs in India have to be cross-caste, cross-class, cross-region, and more or less cross-religion. Now, in Modi’s case, his coalition is cross-region, cross-class, and cross-caste, but it is not cross-religion. He feels that, with 80% of the population being Hindu, he does not need Muslim voters. In fact, you can hear this explicitly in the election speeches of some second-rung BJP leaders, who say, “Muslim voters, we don’t want your vote. We don’t want to do anything for you. You are not our voters.” They believe that this is a way to consolidate the Hindu vote by making it very clear that Muslims are not welcome within that particular coalition.

So, any counter-coalition, apart from incorporating large numbers of Muslims, would also need to chip away at the Hindu constituency, which is the mainstay of the BJP’s electoral coalition. And that can be done on cultural, economic, and political grounds. On political grounds, the question “Where is my right to vote?” is a very strong one. In a slightly less politicized way, there is also the argument that he has had 12 years in power, and he has built railways, roads, and things like that. But now it is time for a change—he has become stale. So, there is nothing particularly political about it. The critique itself is not political. People are simply saying, “Okay, 12 years is quite enough time.”

Hinduism Is Increasingly Seen as Being in Danger from Hindutva

Volunteers of Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) on Vijyadashmi festival, a large gathering or annual meeting during Ramanavami a Hindu festival in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh on October 19, 2018. Photo: Pradeep Gaurs.

On the cultural front, things become very interesting because there is an increasing feeling that Hinduism is in danger from Hindutva and from the crassness that has crept into religious practices. These practices are necessary for Mr. Modi to keep unemployed subaltern youth on his side. By this, I mean very vulgar dances at religious festivals; highly hateful songs played during religious festivals, specifically in front of mosques; and large-scale permission given to young people to go on pilgrimages during which they openly consume huge amounts of drugs and destroy public property, vehicles, and other things. Many people feel that this is no way to conduct what was once a low-key and significant annual pilgrimage.

So, there is a question about their hold over the imagination of what Hinduism is. We also saw that the whole Ram Temple construction did not work for them electorally as well as they had hoped. In fact, after that, they lost 20% of their seats. Any counter-coalition, therefore, is going to have to take on certain attributes. For example, I don’t think it can be very strongly anti-Hinduism. It would have to pay some lip service to Hinduism while also saying that, historically, we have lived relatively peacefully. We have had episodes of Hindu–Muslim violence throughout our history, but there has also been coexistence of a far better variety than what we have seen.

So, the deterioration of Hinduism under Hindutva, the breakdown of long-standing relations of coexistence between communities, and the accommodation of caste aspirations in response to the fact that more Dalit people are now much better educated and have their own very strong intellectuals and political formations—all of this creates the possibility for a counter-people to emerge. But there are still certain things that have to be done before such a counter-people can actually emerge.

Senegal’s Counter-Elite Offers Lessons for India’s Youth Movement

Senegal’s youth mobilization helped bring Bassirou Diomaye Faye to power in 2024 through a coalition built around anti-establishment politics and democratic reform. How does this experience compare with India’s Cockroach Movement? What determines whether youth protest develops into an electoral alternative rather than remaining an autonomous pressure movement?

Dr. Subir Sinha: In the case of Senegal, they already had a political party dating back to around 2016. Political protests can be expressed through popular movements, in what we call the social movement form, or through the party form. That is a major difference between the Senegalese movement and the Cockroach Janta Party movement. The Senegalese movement emerged through the party form, and from what I understand, its leadership came from a relatively elite background.

That is one major distinction. In Senegal, you have a counter-elite that has come to power on issues common across the world, particularly corruption and the accountability of officials. But the differences between the two cases are considerable. That is not to say there are no lessons for India. There certainly are, but the major differences concern the size of the country and its cultural heterogeneity.

There is also the structure of Indian federalism, which grants considerable powers to the states while retaining many powers at the center. So, which level of government should your protest address, given the nature of your demands? Does the state government have the power to resolve them, or does that authority rest with the central government?

Then there is the issue of caste, for which I don’t think most countries have anything analogous.

You also have a historical sedimentation of political parties and their supporters. In India’s case, the number of political parties is very, very large.

Finally, returning to the point about social media, I have no personal experience of having been to Ghana or Senegal. But in India, people’s lives are so heavily mediated through mobile phones and social media that this represents another important difference in terms of how you would go about mobilizing people.

Bangladesh’s Youth Movement Shares Troubling Similarities with Modi’s BJP

Bangladesh’s 2024 student uprising began with disputes over public-sector employment quotas before expanding into a challenge to Sheikh Hasina’s regime. What explains the escalation of educational grievances into regime-level opposition? Could India’s current protests follow a comparable trajectory, or do differences in political institutions and opposition organization make such comparisons misleading?

Dr. Subir Sinha: Let me be slightly controversial here. I found a number of aspects of the Bangladeshi movement quite similar to the BJP in 2014. By that, I mean the very large presence of conservative religious figures and the idea that, in Mr. Modi’s case in 2014, India should be a Hindu nation, while in Bangladesh, it should be an Islamic country. In both cases, there was the idea of constitutional change that would essentially entrench religious majoritarianism. There were also major attacks on mainstream media and a reliance on so-called fake history.

Just as Mr. Modi attempted to destroy the image of Jawaharlal Nehru, India’s founding Prime Minister, in Bangladesh, there was an attempt to destroy the image of Sheikh Mujibur Rahman, the country’s first Prime Minister. This involved not only his image but also his house and all visible symbols of him in the public sphere.

Now, whether or not this will lead to the changes we are discussing, there are certain variables in Bangladesh that do not exist in the Indian case. There are long-standing disputes between two political families in Bangladesh. In India, by contrast, the dispute is effectively between one party dominated by a family and another dominated by a broad, deeply ideological organization, the RSS. That is a second important difference.

The third point concerns similarities. If you think about Bangladesh and the ways in which it is experiencing what I would call a collapse of the future, two elements come into play. The first is climate change, of which Bangladesh is a particular victim, much more visibly so than India. It affects large numbers of people every year, yet the state does not really have a widespread agenda for their rehabilitation or for restoring their housing, employment, and other necessities. The other element is corruption. In Bangladesh, there is a huge amount of what people refer to as crony capitalism, although I would basically just call it capitalism.

These issues are also becoming part of the conversation in India. The close relations between the ruling party and its cronies are becoming increasingly similar under the Modi government to those under the former government of Sheikh Hasina. So, I would say there is a cancellation of the future, also reflected in high unemployment. In fact, we have a PhD student working on the examinations used to recruit people into public services in Bangladesh.

It is quite interesting to see the similarities, although I don’t think Bangladesh has experienced the same widespread leakage of examination papers or non-declaration of examination results. But you would find that, in youth protests around the world—certainly in the Philippines, Indonesia, Mozambique, Madagascar, and other places—unemployment and corruption are seen as somehow intertwined. Young people’s faith in the political systems governing their countries has rapidly faded.

Their capacities for mobilization and for creating satire through means available to anyone—a mobile phone and a few apps—have created a ubiquity of anger and satire, along with the ability to take political risks. This is common not just to Bangladesh and India, but to all the countries currently experiencing an upsurge of youth activism.

Serbia Shows How Student Movements Can Evolve into Electoral Parties

Serbia protest.
Serbian students and citizens protest against government corruption following the Novi Sad railway station accident, at Slavija Square in Belgrade, Serbia, on December 22, 2024. Photo: Mirko Kuzmanovic / Dreamstime.

Serbia’s student-led movement has just secured a historic electoral victory after nearly two years of anti-corruption protests. What organizational and political conditions enabled this transition? Could India’s youth movement learn from Serbia’s combination of decentralized mobilization and electoral coordination, or would such a strategy compromise its independence?

Dr. Subir Sinha: There are many lessons to learn from the Serbian example as well. Remember, it was the Novi Sad railway station collapse that essentially took the movement to another level. Before that, anti-mining protests had already been taking place, so the Novi Sad incident was not the beginning of the Serbian movement.

One important difference is that Serbia has a student-list party that includes people who are not politicians and have no background in electoral politics. Large numbers of its members and electoral candidates are academics and members of the university community. So, the involvement of students and the way the movement’s demands have evolved from one issue to another are very important.

Another very important lesson, and one could say the same about Hungary in this regard, is that even political leaders and parties with near-total control of the media can be defeated by popular uprisings that have evolved into electoral parties. That is something that needs to be taken into consideration.

On the other hand, I return to the question of India’s size and the importance of political learning. Authoritarian-populist leaders learn from one another. They learn from what happened in Hungary and Serbia and will therefore recalibrate their strategies in the countries they lead.

Nonviolent Resistance Exposes the Injustice of State Repression

In your essay on Gandhi’s contested legacy, you examine how traditions of nonviolent resistance coexist with the exclusionary politics of contemporary Hindutva. Does the Cockroach Movement represent a revival of Gandhian civil disobedience through new forms of digital and street-level protest? How does it compare with the protest repertoires employed by students in Serbia and Bangladesh?

Dr. Subir Sinha: Gandhi’s legacy is contested, particularly among Dalits. Let’s not forget that many Dalits feel Gandhi did not take Ambedkar, the preeminent intellectual often seen as the main intellectual figure behind the upsurge of Dalit students, seriously. Gandhi is seen as having cheated him on a couple of occasions. He also seems to have prioritized Hindu unity over social and cultural justice for Dalits. That has created a degree of resentment, and these are valid criticisms. So, Dalits have a number of reservations about Gandhi, even as many other parties continue to regard him with reverence. His legacy is therefore not viewed uniformly among today’s protesting youth; perceptions of it are somewhat fragmented.

But when it comes to the strategies and tactics of movements, nonviolence is a very interesting phenomenon. In the Gandhian approach, when police forces or other forces of injustice attempt to suppress protesters through violence, absolute nonviolence somehow creates the perception of a massive gap in power.

On one side is the nonviolent protester, voluntarily allowing their body to be subjected to police violence; on the other are the police and vigilantes, who use extralegal force against protesters. This makes the police forces appear extremely unjust, while the victims appear to be on the side of justice. So, for any government in India, including Mr. Modi’s—which, paradoxically, also wants to be seen as Gandhian—state repression against nonviolent protesters is ill-advised. It will have repercussions, further eroding the government’s legitimacy.

India’s Opposition Must Convert Popular Mobilization into Electoral Power

Finally, Dr. Sinha, your scholarship emphasizes the relationship between political economy, popular mobilization, and competing forms of hegemony. Across India, Senegal, Bangladesh, Serbia, Nepal, and France, youth movements have achieved different degrees of political change. What distinguishes protests that merely replace political elites from those capable of transforming the institutions and inequalities that reproduce authoritarian populism?

Dr. Subir Sinha: That’s a huge question, but in brief, institutional change is more achievable than structural change. Most people would agree, because structural changes go deeper. You could achieve institutional change by changing the leadership of an institution. For example, you could say, “This particular Election Commissioner is corrupt, but let’s get a better one.” You could also change the rules of the game while still remaining within the realm of institutional change. For example, you could say that the appointment of the Chief Election Commissioner should involve the Chief Justice of India, as was previously the case, along with the Leader of the Opposition and the Prime Minister. So, you change the rules governing how that person is appointed. You could do that without too much difficulty.

You could also introduce other kinds of institutional changes. There’s an excellent Indian journalist, Ajaz Ashraf, who has compared India’s experience with electronic voting machines with that of Brazil. He has noted that, in the Brazilian EVM system, there is an independent group of verifiers who examine whether the code is functioning properly and things like that. So, you could introduce institutional changes of this kind or modify the rules governing existing institutions.

Now, structural changes are what the BJP is trying to make. For example, if you say that 15–20% of the population is excluded from the electorate, that is a structural issue. They are also looking at a so-called delimitation bill, which would create a massive imbalance between the southern and northern states and basically result in an undefeatable, enduring majority for them. Those would be structural changes.

Now, what movements can do, by putting pressure on the system from the outside, is force, at best, institutional change. Structural change becomes possible only when that movement power is converted into legislative power, because ultimately it is Parliament that has the authority to make fundamental changes. In some cases, Parliament and the state legislatures can also make changes to the Constitution. For that to happen, you need electoral victories. And to achieve those electoral victories, you have to break the current political coalition in power.

Remember, there are two political parties that were previously part of the opposition coalition: Janata Dal (United), from my state of Bihar, and Telugu Desam, from Andhra Pradesh. If these two parties alone were to withdraw their support from Mr. Modi, his government would lose its majority. So, in my view, the strategy should be to work out an electoral coalition that brings together many of these movements, despite their own frictions and problems. If that were possible over the next couple of years, and a counter-people were able to find electoral expression, that is when you could begin to see structural changes with an abiding influence, perhaps even spelling a long-term decline of Hindutva.

Associate Professor Noam Gidron.

Assoc. Prof. Gidron: Without Cooperation with Arab Parties, Netanyahu’s Opposition Cannot Secure a Knesset Majority

Israel’s October 27 elections have exposed a profound paradox: Netanyahu’s governing coalition has lost its parliamentary majority, yet the opposition remains unable to form an alternative without cooperation from Arab parties. In an exclusive interview with the ECPS, Associate Professor Noam Gidron of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem examines the implications of rising Arab electoral participation, entrenched affective polarization, and the resilience of Netanyahuism. He explores Likud’s increasing convergence with European radical-right populism, the long-term decline of Israel’s mainstream left, and persistent vulnerabilities in democratic institutions. Gidron argues that the opposition’s reluctance to cooperate with Arab parties reflects deeper political divisions that complicate coalition formation and prospects for democratic renewal in Israel.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Israel’s October 27, 2026, parliamentary elections have produced a fragmented political landscape, exposing the limits of both Netanyahu’s governing coalition and the opposition’s capacity to translate electoral gains into political power. Although Likud emerged as the largest party with 27 seats, Netanyahu’s religious-nationalist bloc secured only 53 seats in the 120-member Knesset, while the predominantly Jewish-led opposition won 48. The Joint List and Ra’am together captured 19 seats, potentially placing Arab political representation at the center of Israel’s coalition negotiations. Yet the reluctance of major opposition parties to cooperate with Arab factions has created a parliamentary deadlock, raising fundamental questions about political inclusion, democratic representation, and the future of Israeli governance. 

In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Associate Professor Noam Gidron of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem examines this impasse through the interconnected dynamics of affective polarization, nationalist politics, and democratic backsliding. Highlighting the significance of increased Arab electoral participation, Professor Gidron observes that “the rising turnout among Arab citizens of Israel is one of the major developments in these elections, if not the most important one.” He emphasizes that this dramatic mobilization is “reshaping the Israeli political landscape,” while Arab parties remain politically marginalized within mainstream coalition calculations.

The central paradox, Gidron argues, is that Netanyahu has lost his parliamentary majority without the opposition acquiring a viable alternative. As he explains, “the opposition’s unwillingness to work with the Arab parties means that it also lacks a majority.” Consequently, “as long as the bloc opposing Netanyahu refuses to work with the Arab parties,”securing a Knesset majority remains exceptionally difficult. The opposition’s internal divisions compound this dilemma: while the progressive Democrats favor cooperation with Arab factions, more hawkish figures, including Avigdor Lieberman, reject such arrangements.

Beyond coalition arithmetic, Professor Gidron identifies affective polarization as a crucial explanation for Netanyahu’s enduring electoral resilience. Despite the October 7 attacks, the Gaza war, and controversies surrounding the judicial overhaul, emotional hostility between political blocs continues to constrain electoral realignment. He further argues that Likud has become increasingly populist, observing that, on relevant measures, it is “more similar to Alternative for Germany (AfD) than to the mainstream center-right Christian Democrats (CDU).”

The interview also explores the long-term decline of Israel’s mainstream left, the political marginalization of Palestinian citizens, and the institutional vulnerabilities of Israeli democracy. While changes in coalition composition could moderate pressures on judicial independence, Professor Gidron cautions that deeper structural weaknesses persist. Ultimately, he captures the democratic dilemma confronting Israel: “fighting for democracy, particularly liberal democracy, is itself polarizing. But it is still a fight worth fighting.”

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

Intense Animosity Between Political Blocs Helps Explain Netanyahu’s Enduring Electoral Support

Israelis protest at Tel Aviv against Netanyahu’s anti-democratic coup on April 1, 2023. Photo: Avivi Aharon.

Professor Gidron, thank you for joining us. Despite the political fallout from October 7, the Gaza war, and the judicial overhaul, Likud remains Israel’s largest party. How do you explain Netanyahu’s enduring electoral appeal? Does this result demonstrate the resilience of Netanyahuism as a personalized form of populist politics?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: That’s a big question. We are now just a couple of days after the elections, and the issues you raise will be examined over the coming weeks, months, and years. I want to be honest and say that we still don’t have the most recent data on voting patterns in these elections, and we will continue debating these issues.

Just to share some initial thoughts, we knew before these elections that the Israeli electorate was deeply polarized, specifically affectively polarized. There is intense dislike and animosity between the political blocs. Of course, the more strongly you dislike your political opponents, the less likely you are to defect to the opposing political bloc. The Israeli electorate is so deeply divided, with such a strong emotional divide between the two main camps, that it is much harder for voters to move to the opposing bloc.

Now, we should note that Likud is the largest party, but the governing coalition has lost support overall. It previously held a majority in the Knesset, the Israeli parliament, but that is no longer the case. So, something has changed.

Who exactly were the voters who switched? That question will be examined over the coming months and years, and I suspect that levels of dislike and animosity between the political blocs will be one explanatory factor in understanding which voters were more willing to switch parties.

Israel Faces Three Possible Scenarios: A Unity Government, Arab-Backed Opposition, or New Elections

With neither Netanyahu’s religious-right bloc nor the predominantly Jewish-led opposition securing a clear majority in the provisional results, what governing alternatives are realistically available? Could an Eisenkot-led coalition overcome its ideological divisions, or might coalition deadlock ultimately prolong Netanyahu’s premiership?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: We are now at a moment when the situation remains unclear, and discussions about what the future may hold are ongoing. We can suggest three scenarios for future political developments, keeping in mind that unexpected events can sometimes occur.

At the moment, one very likely scenario appears to be a unity government in which Netanyahu remains prime minister but adds one of the opposition parties to his coalition, probably from the more centrist elements of the opposition. That would mean Netanyahu remains in power, but with a different, more centrist coalition that does not lean as heavily toward the far right as the current government.

Another scenario, although its chances seem slim at the moment, is that the opposition decides to work formally or informally with the Arab parties, or elements within those parties, to form a government, perhaps even for the short term. This would require some actors within the opposition to break their promise not to work with the Arab parties. However, a unity government would also require them to work with Netanyahu, something they have promised not to do. So, it is hard to know exactly how things will play out.

A third possibility is another election in several months. The chances of this do not seem particularly high, considering that some political actors have a lot to lose from another round of elections. It is not clear whether the opposition could harness the same level of energy again in three or four months in an effort to beat Netanyahu once more. Nevertheless, that remains an option.

Against the background of these political developments, we need to keep in mind that the geopolitical situation in the Middle East is highly unstable. We are hearing some discussion about the potential for another Israeli strike on Iran, perhaps together with the US. Of course, any change in the geopolitical environment could also lead to unexpected political developments here in Israel.

Even the October 7 Massacre Did Not Reduce Affective Polarization

In your recent research with Omer Yair and colleagues, you find that affective polarization persisted despite the exceptional security threats following October 7. How does this finding illuminate the election results? Has hostility toward political opponents become more decisive than assessments of Netanyahu’s performance?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Oftentimes, we have this implicit or explicit expectation that an external threat would increase domestic cohesion—that different members of a community would come closer together when facing an external security threat. One implication is that, following such a severe security threat, we might expect a decrease in levels of affective polarization—that is, deep animosity across political divides.

The October 7 massacre provided us with an opportunity—a tragic opportunity, of course—to examine whether such a drastic change in the security environment would indeed lead to lower levels of affective polarization. This is not what we find in the data. We analyzed data collected just before and after October 7, in which Israeli respondents reported how they felt toward political opponents.

While we have seen this pooling of civic engagement and collective efforts to help communities affected by October 7 and the war that followed, these efforts did not translate into lower levels of affective polarization.

This suggests that perhaps we need to rethink the expectation that an external threat increases domestic cohesion, or at least consider the scope conditions: Under what conditions should we expect such an effect, and why didn’t we see it in the Israeli case?

In any case, this provides further evidence of how deeply affectively polarized Israeli society has been over the last four years. It also provides important context for understanding what happened in this election, as we discussed earlier, including the current government’s ability to retain support even under such difficult circumstances.

The Decline of Israel’s Mainstream Left Is a Long-Term Development

Election billboards of religious political parties Shas and Otzma Yehudit before Israel’s fourth election in two years in a street of Jerusalem on March 22, 2021. Photo: Gali Estrange.

Israel’s principal electoral competition increasingly occurs among different forms of nationalist, conservative, secular-right, and religious-right politics. Why has the conventional left–right divide been displaced by rival conceptions of right-wing leadership? Does this represent a lasting ideological realignment or a temporary consequence of security politics?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: That’s a difficult question to answer. I would note that we have seen a long-term decline in support for the mainstream left in Israel. This is not just a temporary reaction to October 7 or the war that followed. Rather, it is a process that has been unfolding for the last 30 years or so.

We therefore need to consider long-term developments at both the mass level, in terms of changes in the composition of the electorate, and the elite level, in terms of the willingness of parties left of center to present voters with a clear vision for the future and fight for it against these populist forces on the right.

The answer to what we have seen—the long-term decline of the Israeli mainstream left—lies somewhere in the interaction between these mass- and elite-level factors. This is definitely not a temporary development.

I would also note that those interested in these questions can consult the book I co-edited, The Elections in Israel 2022, in which we analyzed the long-term decline of the Israeli Labour Party from 1992 to the present. We show how this decline unfolded step by step, with each successive election bringing the defection of another constituency from the party.

Likud Today Is More Similar to Germany’s AfD Than to the Mainstream CDU

Itamar Ben-Gvir’s Otzma Yehudit and Bezalel Smotrich’s Religious Zionism retain significant parliamentary representation. How should we distinguish their religious-nationalist radicalism from Netanyahu’s populism? Have these movements transformed Israel’s ideological mainstream, even when their individual electoral strength remains limited?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Yes, that’s another good question. There was some expectation that Ben-Gvir and his far-right parties would achieve great success in these elections. They haven’t really failed, but I don’t think the election results met their expectations.

To a certain degree, this is because Likud, Netanyahu’s party and the largest party on the right, has become more similar to these far-right elements, narrowing the differences between them. Netanyahu has such strong electoral appeal within the right-wing bloc that he managed to prevent right-wing supporters from defecting to parties further to the right. At the same time, we have seen Likud become increasingly populist over time.

Here, we have evidence from V-Dem, the Varieties of Democracy dataset, and CHES, the Chapel Hill Expert Survey, suggesting that Likud today is as populist as radical-right parties in Europe, rather than resembling mainstream Christian Democratic or conservative parties.

If we look specifically at these measures of populism, Likud is, in a way, more similar to Alternative for Germany (AfD) than to the mainstream center-right Christian Democrats (CDU). This is how we should understand the dynamics within the Israeli right-wing bloc.

Military Exemptions Did Not Appear to Be a Decisive Issue for Right-Wing Voters

Shas and United Torah Judaism remain important coalition actors, despite growing controversy over military exemptions for ultra-Orthodox men. Could the conscription dispute fundamentally reshape Israel’s party alignments? Is the secular–religious cleavage becoming more consequential than traditional economic or security divisions?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Over the years, these ultra-Orthodox parties that you just mentioned have become an integral part of the right-wing bloc and are considered natural members of Netanyahu’s coalition government.

Following October 7 and the subsequent wars in Gaza, Lebanon, Syria, and Iran, there was an expectation that the question of conscription for ultra-Orthodox men would become a defining issue in these elections. I’m not sure that’s what actually happened.

Again, we should be cautious because the election took place only this week, and we still lack direct data to understand voters’ considerations and which parties they switched between. At the moment, however, it doesn’t seem that many voters defected from the right-wing bloc because they were dissatisfied with the exemption of ultra-Orthodox men from military service. So, at least for now, this issue does not appear to have been particularly salient in shaping right-wing voters’ decisions.

Interestingly, these parties did not gain support in the latest elections, even though demographic trends might lead us to expect an increase in their share of the vote.

This also raises questions about where they are heading next. The previous government was supposed to be their dream deal—one in which they could get whatever they wanted. Yet that did not really happen, and the question of military exemptions remained unresolved.

Perhaps some of their voters were disappointed by this, although other factors may also have played a role. We will have more information about these factors in the future. For now, it seems that these elections were something of a disappointment for the ultra-Orthodox parties.

Labour Party Has Been in Gradual Electoral Decline Since the Early 1990s

The once-dominant Israeli Labour Party now survives politically within the Democrats alliance. What explains this profound electoral decline? Has Labour’s association with the Oslo peace process undermined its legitimacy, or have demographic change, class realignment, and the growing salience of national identity been more decisive?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Yes, this goes back to what we were discussing earlier about the decline of the mainstream left in Israel. There have definitely been demographic shifts, but we also need to be cautious about assuming that demography is destiny. The question is whether parties can attract new constituencies and expand their base of support as some of their traditional constituencies decline demographically. We haven’t really seen that happen. Again, this is not a temporary development. It is not something that emerged in the last five years or following October 7. Rather, it has been a gradual decline since the early 1990s.

These parties are also competing with other opposition parties considered more centrist or liberal. However, it is not clear that there is a distinct ideological difference between the more liberal parties and the Democrats, who represent the more leftist elements of the opposition. It seems that this political bloc is still in flux, searching for its final configuration. But so far, that has not happened.

Mizrahi Jews Remain Underrepresented in Multiple Arenas of Israel’s Elite

Students and academics join a protest march in Haifa on September 9, 2023, against Israel’s controversial judicial overhaul. Photo: Dreamstime.

In Populism as a Problem of Social Integration, co-authored with Peter Hall, you emphasize social marginalization and perceived status loss. Can this framework help explain the enduring appeal of Likud among sections of the Mizrahi electorate and the attraction of radical-right parties? How are historical grievances reproduced across generations?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: The lack of social recognition comes up frequently in the political discourse among supporters of the current government and the coalition that has just lost the election but may remain in power, with Netanyahu continuing as prime minister, as we discussed earlier. We hear many arguments about what is sometimes referred to as the “Second Israel,” suggesting that voters within the right-wing bloc are undervalued and misrecognized by Ashkenazi political elites.

There is certainly something to this. We know that Mizrahi Jews are underrepresented in multiple arenas of the Israeli elite, including academia, business, and other relevant spheres.

At the same time, in our paper with Peter Hall, we assumed that this sense of misrecognition reflects people’s life circumstances and how well they are integrated into society. Perhaps we should also have paid more attention to how messages from political elites can intensify this sense of lower subjective social status—the feeling that opposing elites treat people unfairly or undervalue certain segments of society.

There is something important to be said about how political elites can actively fuel this sense of misrecognition among the electorate. That is something we did not examine in this paper. Hopefully, someone will explore it in the future.

Rising Arab Voter Turnout Is Reshaping Israel’s Political Landscape

The Joint List and Ra’am have emerged as potentially decisive parliamentary actors. Yet major Jewish-led parties remain reluctant to depend on their support. Does this exclusion reveal a structural limitation of Israeli coalition democracy? Could Arab parliamentary participation become essential to overcoming the Netanyahu–anti-Netanyahu deadlock?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: I feel we could have an entire discussion devoted to this specific issue. Certainly, the rising turnout among Arab citizens of Israel is one of the major developments in these elections, if not the most important one. Traditionally, electoral participation has been lower within this sector, but in this election, we have seen a dramatic increase in turnout that is reshaping the Israeli political landscape. The direct outcome is that we now have much larger Arab parties in the Knesset.

It is also important to note that these Arab parties do not constitute a uniform bloc. There are ideological differences between them, and they represent different groups within the Arab sector. Nevertheless, they are often treated as a single bloc in Israeli politics.

Currently, the opposition parties face a significant challenge. On the one hand, the governing coalition has lost its majority, meaning Netanyahu cannot form another government with exactly the same coalition he had before the election. On the other hand, the opposition’s unwillingness to work with the Arab parties means that it also lacks a majority.

We should also recognize the differences among the opposition parties themselves. You mentioned earlier the Democrats, the leftist, progressive part of the opposition. They openly call for a formal coalition with elements of the Arab parties.

By contrast, more hawkish actors within the opposition, such as Avigdor Lieberman, insist that they will never cooperate with Arab parties, either formally or informally. Some of the more centrist elements try to remain vague on this issue, leaving themselves room to maneuver, although this does not currently seem to be a particularly successful strategy.

So, there are clear differences within the opposition. However, as long as the bloc opposing Netanyahu refuses to work with the Arab parties, particularly given the high turnout among Arab citizens in these elections, it is difficult to see how it can secure a majority in the Knesset.

Rising Violent Crime in Arab Communities May Help Explain the Surge in Electoral Turnout

In your research on Israel’s Nation-State Law, you examine how majority-nationalist legislation shapes perceptions of minority citizenship. How do these findings help us interpret the stronger Arab electoral mobilization in 2026? Can increased parliamentary representation translate into substantive political equality for Palestinian citizens of Israel?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: One of the findings I presented with colleagues in the study you mentioned is that the Basic Law declaring Israel a Jewish nation-state had a stronger impact on how Arab citizens of Israel perceive their citizenship than on how Jewish Israeli citizens perceive theirs. This law also left its mark on how Arab citizens perceive their role in Israeli society.

That being said, I’m not sure it was a direct driver of the increased turnout we have seen in these elections, particularly since some time has passed. Again, I want to be cautious because, at this point, we are just speculating. We do not yet have clear data explaining the electoral trends observed in these elections.

One common explanation for the high turnout, however, is the sharp increase in violent crime in Arab communities over the last four years. Crime has become a deeply destabilizing factor in the lives of far too many Arab communities, affecting numerous individuals, families, and neighborhoods.

One common argument is that the increased turnout reflects a reaction to this situation and a demand to replace the minister responsible for the police, currently the far-right Itamar Ben-Gvir, who does not seem particularly concerned about what is happening in the Arab sector.

Security Threats and National Identity Have Dominated Israeli Electoral Politics

Your recent work with Moses Shayo examines how national identity competes with class, ethnicity, and other collective attachments. Does the dominance of Jewish national identity help explain why social-democratic appeals struggle electorally? Under what conditions could economic inequality regain political salience across Israel’s ethnic and religious divisions?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Asking under what conditions economic inequality could reclaim dominance assumes that it was once a dominant issue, and that is itself open to debate. Different people have different views on the matter, and there are different interpretations of this question.

One dominant argument suggests that, in Israeli politics, questions of security threats and the closely related issue of national identity have consistently dominated other issues and shaped electoral behavior. This has been particularly true since October 7 and the wars we have experienced here.

There is also an alternative argument, although I don’t necessarily find it very convincing. This argument suggests that much of the support for Netanyahu’s right-wing bloc comes from middle-class and lower-middle-class cities and neighborhoods, while upper-middle-class and more affluent voters tend to support centrist and more progressive parties.

According to this interpretation, it is the opposition’s unwillingness to present a social-democratic vision that makes it more difficult for these parties to attract voters from the right-wing bloc.

I’m not sure this argument is particularly convincing, as it is difficult to find evidence supporting this thesis. Nevertheless, it is certainly being debated in the aftermath of the election, particularly because the data show a clear correlation between more affluent, upper-middle-class communities and support for the opposition.

So, this remains a contested question.

Lieberman May Stand Further to the Right Than Some of Netanyahu’s Coalition Partners

Secular nationalist parties such as Yisrael Beytenu challenge ultra-Orthodox privileges while maintaining hardline positions on national security. Does this illustrate a distinctive form of secular right-wing politics? Can secularization advance equal citizenship and institutional liberalism without fundamentally transforming Israeli nationalism or attitudes toward Palestinians?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: Exactly as you noted, there are elements within the opposition that hold rather hawkish views on the conflict, Israel’s place in the Middle East, and related issues. You mentioned Avigdor Lieberman. On some of these issues, his positions may actually place him further to the right than some of Netanyahu’s coalition partners. At the same time, however, he holds a more secular worldview and opposes some of the positions taken by the ultra-Orthodox parties, which creates tensions with important elements of the right-wing bloc.

This suggests that opposition to Netanyahu can bring together different political actors over different issues. At the same time, however, it creates a highly heterogeneous and divided opposition that struggles to agree on many issues beyond its opposition to certain elements within the right-wing bloc.

So, you have actors like Lieberman alongside the Democrats, the more progressive leftist party. Both oppose Netanyahu, but on different grounds. This, of course, makes the opposition very difficult to manage.

Lack of a Constitution Makes Its Democratic Institutional Framework Rather Fragile

Thousands march in Jerusalem against judicial overhaul, March 2025. A broad protest fills the streets at night, with demonstrators calling to save Israeli democracy. Photo: Dreamstime.

In “Israel – Populism, Polarization and the Crisis of Democracy,” co-authored with Yaniv Roznai, you examine the institutional vulnerabilities associated with Netanyahu’s political project. Does the 2026 election suggest a potential democratic recovery, or could Netanyahu’s continued influence sustain pressures on judicial independence and constitutional checks?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: There are long-term structural weaknesses in Israeli democracy. Perhaps the most obvious is that Israel does not have a constitution. Instead, it has Basic Laws, most of which are relatively easy to change. This makes the basic institutional framework within which Israeli democracy operates rather fragile.

These structural weaknesses will not disappear simply because of these elections. However, as we discussed earlier, the current government no longer holds a majority in parliament.

One potential outcome could be some form of unity government between Likud and the more centrist elements of the opposition. In that case, these opposition parties might demand, as a condition for joining Netanyahu’s government, that certain elements of the judicial overhaul—that is, his government’s plan to reshape Israeli democracy—be taken off the table.

So, while the structural weaknesses are here to stay, the immediate threats to the system of checks and balances may diminish as a result of changes in the composition of the next government.

People Adapt Their Understanding of Democracy to the Political Leaders They Support

Your recent study “Resistance to Backsliding: The Role of Democratic Conceptions” finds that citizens with a substantive understanding of democracy were especially inclined to oppose the judicial overhaul. Have these democratic commitments translated into a coherent electoral alternative? Why has the protest movement struggled to produce a stronger liberal-left political realignment?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: There’s a lot to unpack here, so let me highlight two interrelated points. First, the study you mentioned examined participation in protests against the judicial overhaul presented to the Israeli public immediately following the previous elections. We are going back several years, to when the Justice Minister announced a plan to weaken the system of checks and balances, particularly the courts. Immediately afterward, we witnessed the emergence of the largest protest movement in Israel’s history.

In this study, together with colleagues, we examined what explains participation in protests against the judicial overhaul, which we understand as a measure of democratic backsliding. Indeed, as you noted, we found that a thicker understanding of democracy—one that is not purely majoritarian but also recognizes the importance of additional democratic components, such as checks and balances—helps explain not only opposition to the judicial overhaul but also active participation in the protest movement against it.

Our study focused on a relatively narrow timeframe: conceptions of democracy before the plan was announced and participation in the protest movement immediately afterward. We found a strong relationship between the two.

In data we are currently analyzing, we also find that conceptions of democracy are relatively stable. At the same time, however, people adapt their understanding of democracy based on how they feel toward the political leader advancing the backsliding measure—in this case, Netanyahu—and toward their political opponents.

For example, if I supported the previous government and initially held a rather thick understanding of democracy, I might, over time, adopt a more majoritarian understanding because I follow my leader and adapt my conception of democracy to what my political side is advocating. In other words, people adjust how they think about democracy.

This brings me to your question about why the protest movement has not given rise to a larger liberal bloc. As I mentioned, it was the largest protest movement in the country’s history, which also meant that it was highly diverse.

It brought together people with different foreign policy views and different perspectives on the conflict between Israel and its neighbors. What united them was a shared, thicker understanding of democracy.

However, following October 7 and the subsequent war, attitudes toward the conflict became increasingly salient, making it more difficult to keep the protest movement together.

So, when you want to oppose democratic backsliding, you need to build a broad coalition. The challenge is that such a coalition may be divided on other issues, and once those issues become extremely salient, maintaining that broad coalition becomes much more difficult.

An Eisenkot Government Could Respond Differently to Settler Violence in the West Bank

Israeli Parliament Knesset.
Israeli Parliament Knesset. Photo: Dreamstime.

Much of the anti-Netanyahu opposition remains committed to security-centered nationalism and is reluctant to endorse Palestinian statehood. Would an Eisenkot-led government represent a substantive departure from Netanyahu’s approach to Gaza and the West Bank, or primarily a change in leadership? What political conditions could reopen a credible path toward Palestinian self-determination?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: That’s a big question, and I’ll do my best to address it. Let me begin by noting that politics can be unpredictable, and unexpected developments do occur. To give an example from Israeli history, during or immediately after the Yom Kippur War in 1973, it would have been very difficult to imagine that Israel and Egypt would sign a peace treaty in less than a decade. No one could have foreseen that.

So, when we try to make strong claims about the future, we should keep in mind that geopolitical developments can surprise us in ways that are difficult to anticipate. I want to place my comments on this issue within that broader context.

I think your point is well taken. A change in government, which currently does not seem very likely given the election results, as we discussed earlier, may not drastically change Israel’s policy in Gaza.

I do think there could be some changes, for instance, in how Israel responds to violent attacks by settlers against Palestinians in the West Bank. There could be a shift in that regard. However, I don’t think it was very likely that a transition from Netanyahu to Eisenkot would be accompanied by a complete rethinking of what Israel should do in Gaza.

I would also note that President Trump has approximately two more years in office, and we have seen that he is able to influence how Israeli leaders deal with their neighbors.

I don’t think it is entirely impossible that Trump might try to facilitate certain developments in the Middle East, including some that currently seem far-fetched. That is one potential factor that could lead to a change in Israeli policy. However, such a change could also occur under Netanyahu’s government rather than necessarily under Eisenkot’s leadership.

Fighting for Liberal Democracy Is Polarizing, but It Is Still a Fight Worth Fighting

And finally, Professor Gidron, your research demonstrates how polarization, national identity, and coalition arrangements shape democratic politics. Looking beyond the immediate coalition negotiations, do the 2026 results suggest a durable restructuring of Israel’s party system? What developments would indicate meaningful democratic renewal rather than another cycle of personalized rivalry, nationalist competition, and institutional confrontation?

Assoc. Prof. Noam Gidron: I wish I had a good answer to that. Looking at the current state of Israeli politics, the deep divide between the political blocs is perhaps the most dominant feature of contemporary Israeli politics. Israeli society is paying a real price for this polarization. At the same time, fighting for democracy, particularly liberal democracy, is itself polarizing. But it is still a fight worth fighting.

So, how can we navigate the tension between these two ways of thinking about polarization in Israeli politics? This is a major challenge for all actors in the Israeli political arena, especially those invested in securing Israeli democracy.

Professor Lester Spence.

Prof. Spence: In the United States, Democracy Goes as Black People Go

In an in-depth interview with the ECPS ahead of the November 3 US midterm elections, Professor Lester Spence of Johns Hopkins University argues that the fate of American democracy is inseparable from Black political rights: “In the United States, democracy goes as Black people go.” Examining Trumpism, racialized political hierarchies, democratic backsliding, and the weakening of the Voting Rights Act, Professor Spence emphasizes that restrictions on Black political participation undermine democracy more broadly. Drawing on Reconstruction, the Civil Rights Movement, and contemporary Black activism, he explores the relationship between racial domination and political economy while highlighting the democratic potential of cross-racial solidarity, progressive coalitions, and institutional transformation beyond electoral representation to secure substantive empowerment for working-class communities.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As the United States approaches the November 3, 2026, midterm elections, political competition is increasingly shaped by Trumpism, racial polarization, economic inequality, and conflicts over voting rights and democratic institutions. Beyond the struggle for congressional control, these developments raise fundamental questions about racialized political power, the resilience of American democracy, and the prospects for substantive Black political empowerment. At the heart of these debates lies a crucial question: Can American democracy remain viable when the political rights of historically marginalized communities are increasingly contested?

In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Lester Spence, Professor of Political Science and Africana Studies at Johns Hopkins University, offers a historically grounded analysis of the relationship between racial domination, political economy, and democratic backsliding. His central argument is captured in a striking formulation: “In the United States, democracy goes as Black people go.” For Professor Spence, the trajectory of American democracy cannot be understood independently of the political struggles, institutional protections, and democratic participation of Black Americans.

Drawing on the historical experiences of Reconstruction, Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Movement, and contemporary struggles over voting rights, Professor Spence argues that racial exclusion has consequences extending far beyond its immediate targets. As he emphasizes, “It’s not simply that democratic harms inflicted on Black people affect only Black people.” Rather, “for historical reasons, Black people are at the center.” Consequently, “what happens to Black people ultimately ends up hurting everybody.”

This interpretation challenges approaches that treat racial inequality as peripheral to democratic decline. Professor Spence insists that “racial politics are essential to understanding democratic backsliding in the United States,” identifying two competing historical traditions: one that expands democratic participation and another that constrains political representation and governmental responsiveness. He further observes that “the anti-democratizing or de-democratizing tendency has always been associated with forces that have practiced white supremacy.”

Against this historical background, the contemporary weakening of voting rights acquires broader institutional significance. Discussing the Voting Rights Act, Professor Spence warns: “When you weaken or effectively neutralize the Voting Rights Act, you’re not just undermining its protections for Black people; you’re essentially undermining those protections for everybody.” He similarly anticipates that, without electoral reform, “Black political representation” will decline dramatically, particularly in the American South.

Yet Professor Spence’s analysis extends beyond democratic erosion to the possibilities of political renewal. Reflecting on Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street, and emerging progressive coalitions, he argues that “political movements themselves create openings, and institutions then emerge to fill those gaps.” Ultimately, he maintains, meaningful democratic transformation requires more than electoral victories: “It’s not just about electing people; it’s about creating a new model” capable of protecting political participation while generating progressive change and substantive material benefits for working-class communities.

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

Trumpism Retains Elements of the Previous Era 

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

Professor Spence, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with Trumpism’s enduring appeal and its relationship to America’s historical racial hierarchies. How should we understand the intersection of racial resentment, economic insecurity, and anti-establishment populism in sustaining Trumpism? Does it represent a distinctive form of racialized authoritarian populism, or does it reproduce longstanding structures of American racial politics under more confrontational leadership?

Professor Lester Spence: First, that’s a really good question, and answering it gives me an opportunity to talk about this moment with an eye toward helping folks understand political dynamics and political change over time, along with political economy: how the market works, how the economy works, how changes in the economy are both produced by politics and, in turn, produce politics, and how racial dynamics play a role in all that.

To understand Trumpism in the short durée, we have to go back to the economic crises that wracked the country and the world in approximately 2008. In the United States, what this meant for a number of folks, including myself, was that our mortgages went underwater. A number of us had our homes taken away from us, particularly at the middle- and upper-income levels. At the working-class level, folks who didn’t own their homes or didn’t have the capacity to own them, and therefore rented, were placed in even more precarious circumstances because many of them lost their jobs. They didn’t have health benefits, and there were a range of other crises.

In addition to these real crises, such as me being in danger of losing my home or working-class folks dealing with difficult material circumstances, there were psychological challenges that people faced as the economy tanked. They didn’t necessarily lose money, but they thought they would. Or maybe they indirectly lost money through stocks, whatever the hell.

Anyway, it’s in this moment that we see the election of Barack Obama. Obama, as the first Black president of the United States, actually had a lot more room to navigate than I think he and others thought. That is to say, those of us who study this academically, serve as political analysts, work in campaigns, and even regular folks never thought that the United States would elect an African American president. I just didn’t think it would happen.

The fact that he’d already overcome that hurdle created more space for him to navigate. The nature of the economic crisis itself also raised questions, for the first time in a broad sense, about how capitalism in the United States functioned. Obama had a lot of latitude to discipline capital, and he generally chose not to.

The Tea Party Created the Conditions for Trump’s Rise

Now, fast-forward to the 2010 election cycle. He ended up losing Congress, while a number of states fell to the GOP. At this moment, we see the rise of what eventually becomes the MAGA movement. It wasn’t called that then. It was called the Tea Party movement.

The Tea Party movement ends up transforming the Republican Party, moving it sharply toward the right. The Republican Party already had racist tendencies. The movement metastasizes these tendencies and creates space for a certain type of capital to gradually dominate the concentrated support for the GOP. All of that, long story short, creates the conditions in which Trump can run as an outsider and win.

What’s similar between Trump and previous iterations of the Republican Party is this racist tendency, which became prominent in the Republican Party as early as the late 1960s and early 1970s. It becomes even more prominent with the election of Ronald Reagan. Reagan runs on implicit racist campaign appeals, creating the space that, by the mid-1980s, makes it possible for a racist populist like Pat Buchanan to run for president.

He does not win, but he helps create a space within the GOP for it to basically become, at best, a white ethnic nationalist party. That’s what it ends up becoming under Trump, who takes this tendency, pushes it further, and transforms it into something that retains elements of the previous era but can also be understood as something new. And that’s one part of it. If you have questions about any of this, just loop back to me.

Now, if we think about the economy over the period I’ve discussed, we transition from the 1960s and 1970s, when we’re an industrial economy dominated by manufacturing, to one increasingly dominated by the FIRE (Finance, Insurance, and Real Estate) sector. By the 1980s and 1990s, the FIRE sector dominates, and this is when the neoliberal turn consolidates.

Corruption Is a Governing Principle for Trump

But what we’re in now is a different economy, even from those earlier economies. It’s deeply post-industrial, deeply connected to platforms and the internet, and it’s here that we see the rise of not just billionaires but, in Elon Musk, the first trillionaire.

These transformations of the economy end up feeding back into politics. Around the time Obama is running, then Clinton is running, and then Biden is running, this growing tech capital sector is splitting its support. They’re splitting their support the way prior sectors did—not all, but some—because they’re thinking, okay, no matter what, we want to hedge our bets. We want to get benefits if the Republican Party wins, and we want to get benefits if the Democratic Party wins. So, we’re kind of split.

But what you see in the United States is that, increasingly, even before Trump gets elected, but definitely afterward, and then with his second election, tech capital moves toward him.

This is another important dynamic: Trump actually uses the state to compel tech to support him because, unlike previous parties and elected officials of both parties, corruption is a governing principle for Trump. Corruption wasn’t a governing principle for prior iterations.

So, those are some of the things that make Trumpism different. I don’t think I covered everything, and I was perhaps a bit more confusing than I’d like to be. So, if you have any questions about any of that, just holler at me.

Race Is a Political Construction with Social Implications

Black People.
Black Lives Matter protesters march around Marion Square during an organized demonstration in Charleston, South Carolina, USA, on July 13, 2016. Photo: Gerald T. Coli / Dreamstime.

Your scholarship challenges explanations that separate racial hierarchy from political economy. How should we interpret the relationship between white racial identity, perceived status loss, and material interests in contemporary Republican electoral behavior? To what extent can economic grievances be analytically distinguished from racial resentment when explaining support for Trump and the contemporary far right?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. When I was younger, an undergraduate in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the common sense about racial difference was changing. At the time, when I was starting school, people still thought—and were still taught in universities—that race was a real physiological or biological thing. By the time I was in graduate school, the common sense had changed, and we recognized that race was a social construction with political implications. The way I think about race is as a political construction with social implications.

It’s a political construction inasmuch as states and state bureaucracies play an essential role in constructing racial difference. They do so to create a social, economic, and political hierarchy. It’s a political hierarchy inasmuch as populations deemed non-white, and Black populations specifically, are placed at the bottom. Even when Black populations and other non-white populations are citizens, they are deemed unworthy of the rights accorded to white citizens. That puts them in a particular category.

Socially speaking, they’re at the bottom. That means there is a range of social rights that society accords—sometimes, when philosophers and political theorists talk about these rights, they refer to things like dignity—that non-white populations aren’t accorded. Economically, that means they’re placed at the bottom of the labor hierarchy. Even when non-white populations own businesses and the like, they’re still placed at the bottom of that hierarchy.

Racial Hierarchies Provide Political, Social, and Economic Benefits to Whites

Now, that hierarchy itself ends up providing political, social, and economic benefits, both for whites in general and for whites in the middle and near the bottom of their own hierarchy. Those benefits change according to the moment, depending on where we are, where the economy is, and where the political economy is. But the hierarchy is durable. It’s durable.

Now, what do I mean by that? When the South was an authoritarian regime largely shaped by Jim Crow, even as whites were victimized by the agricultural sector that dominated the United States South, they could derive psychological benefits and some limited political benefits from knowing that there was a population below them—a population that didn’t have full citizenship rights and was placed at the bottom of the social hierarchy. This was true even when they were in somewhat similar economic circumstances.

Racial Resentment Makes Whites More Likely to Support Trumpism 

As we transition out of Jim Crow, what we see is that political parties are consistently able to wield the reality of racial difference in ways that make a majority of whites believe that when government functions progressively—when it gives folks the resources to be healthy, to keep their heads above water economically, and to protect themselves against capital—it is acting on behalf of non-whites in general and Blacks in particular.

Race is wielded in such a way that, when government attempts to function like that, whites end up resenting government because they believe it is being used on behalf of these populations. To the extent that governments act on behalf of these populations, whites believe that these populations are undeserving of the benefits government accords them.

This, in turn, makes whites skeptical of government interventions in general and, more specifically, of progressive interventions designed to address some combination of racial and class inequality.

Racial resentment plays a role here. Whites who are racially resentful—that is, who are predisposed not just to believe in the racial hierarchy generally, but to believe intensely that this hierarchy exists because non-white populations in general, and Black populations specifically, are culturally dysfunctional and deeply undeserving—are far more likely to believe that government should not be used for progressive ends. This translates into the present moment, making them far more likely to support Trumpism and its racist elements.

Race Is Central to Both the Democratizing and De-Democratizing Tendencies

Black Lives Matter protesters.
Black Lives Matter protesters demonstrate against police brutality in Oakland, California, USA. Photo: Dreamstime.

With the Trump administration facing renewed scrutiny over executive authority, immigration enforcement, and the independence of democratic institutions, how should scholars conceptualize the relationship between democratic backsliding and America’s historical structures of racial domination? Are contemporary authoritarian tendencies best understood as a departure from American democratic traditions, or as an intensification of exclusionary practices already embedded within them?

Professor Lester Spence: My answer here will be more straightforward. I believe that American democracy, in simplified terms, can be understood as comprising two traditions. One tradition sustains and extends progressive democratic practices, giving regular people the ability to determine who represents them and to have their interests reflected in progressive government policy. That’s one tendency.

The other tendency seeks to constrain people’s ability to elect representatives who reflect their interests and the government’s ability to respond to those interests. If the first tendency is democratizing, the second is anti-democratizing, de-democratizing, or autocratizing.

Race is central to both tendencies. In the first, for historical reasons, Black populations have played a critical role in defending and extending democratic practices and the functioning of democracy in the United States at the local, state, and federal levels. We can see this before and during the Civil War, throughout Reconstruction, in the Civil Rights Movement, and, to a certain extent, in more recent Black Lives Matter organizing.

The anti-democratizing or de-democratizing tendency has always been associated with forces that have practiced white supremacy. They’ve either practiced it explicitly or supported policies that tend to produce it as a byproduct.

If we look at the political science literature, the study of democratic backsliding in the United States has only recently returned to mainstream political science scholarship. For the longest time, political scientists studying this question focused almost everywhere except the United States. The exceptions included scholars of racial politics and Black studies more broadly. There are a couple of other exceptions, but I’ll leave it there.

What we’re trying to do is push the discipline toward recognizing that racial politics are essential to understanding democratic backsliding in the United States. Trump gives us the complicated benefit of bringing this issue into sharper focus.

Actually, race—and here I’m referring more broadly to the ways in which the state differentiates populations using biological or cultural concepts—is essential to understanding democratic backsliding. In the United States, it’s race. In some places, it’s not race but ethnicity. In others, it’s not ethnicity but religion, and so on.

These distinctions are essential to understanding democratic backsliding and authoritarian turns more broadly, both within nations and across regions. For example, when we think about the European Union or its current and former member states, we can examine how immigration and race have been used to generate support for democratic backsliding.

If we look at elections in South America—or at Israel, where the election was just held—we can see, in state after state, how racial or race-like dynamics are used to explain democratic backsliding.

The Republican Party Should Be Understood as an Ethno-Nationalist Party

In your essay “Make Sure It Includes Everyone,” you expressed skepticism about the institutional foundations of cross-racial progressive coalitions, arguing that organizations capable of sustaining solidarity across cities, suburbs, and rural communities had substantially weakened. Nearly a decade later, have the Trump era and its aftermath further entrenched racialized political divisions, or have new possibilities emerged for building durable solidarities across racial and class boundaries?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. I’d say yes to both. I talked about two tendencies: the democratizing tendency and the de-democratizing tendency. Those tendencies have moved even further apart.

One way to think about this is that if you had conducted a survey maybe 20 years ago, you would have found broad support, across parties and populations, for most of the elements of what we consider a functioning democracy, even among people who express racial resentment. People who are racially resentful might believe that certain populations shouldn’t necessarily be protected by democracy, but they would still express support for broad swaths of what we consider the necessary elements of a functioning democracy.

Now, I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Within the de-democratizing tendency, you have a broad swath of folks who increasingly don’t believe in democratic values. For them, race is being used to reinforce that tendency. Even though that tendency includes non-whites—for example, I’m from Michigan, where the Republican gubernatorial candidate is John James, an African American, and there are other African Americans within the Trump tendency running for office—it’s not quite the same as it was during the Jim Crow era. But even so, that tendency remains disproportionately white, and the Republican Party at this moment should be understood as an ethno-nationalist party. It is a white political party.

Within that dynamic, race is used to bring the coalition together, and the only circumstances in which that coalition accepts people who aren’t white are when those individuals themselves explicitly or implicitly express support for white supremacy. There’s that, and it’s important to note that I’m talking about political parties. 

There’s also a geographic component: this tendency is concentrated outside American cities. If we had a map of the United States in front of us and broke it down by county—a geographic area larger than a city but much smaller than a state—we would see that urban counties, those containing major cities, support the Democratic Party regardless of the state, while areas outside them support the Republican Party, again regardless of the state.

There are racial dynamics layered onto this geographic divide. Metropolitan areas tend to be racially heterogeneous, meaning you can find all different types of racial populations. Areas outside metropolitan regions, by contrast, tend to be really white. The de-democratizing tendency is concentrated in those predominantly white areas, where people are working together on behalf of Trump and Trumpist policies.

Within metropolitan areas, on the other hand, you see increasing efforts to develop cross-racial solidarity, at the very least to defeat the Trump tendency, but also to create space for more progressive forms of politics. It’s this dynamic that elects Zohran Mamdani as mayor of New York. It’s this dynamic that elects Brandon Johnson in Chicago. He’s not DSA, but he’s really progressive. It’s also this dynamic that is emerging in Providence, the largest city in Rhode Island, where it looks like the next mayor is going to be a DSA member.

All of these elections are pushing the Democratic Party further to the left, and they require strong interracial solidarity—not just class solidarity among working-class members of different racial populations, but also inter-class solidarity, because a lot of small business owners and people who make a little bit of money are supporting these tendencies as well.

So, you see both increased interracial solidarity on one hand and increased racial homogeneity on the other.

Black Populism Has Greater Potential in Major Cities

Zohran Mamdani.
Mayor Zohran Mamdani marches up Fifth Avenue during the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Midtown Manhattan, New York City, USA onMarch 17, 2026. Photo: Dreamstime.

In the same essay, you defined Black populism around the principle that ordinary Black people should have their interests represented in government, while insisting that Black populism must fundamentally be a class project. How would you reformulate that argument in the political circumstances of 2026? Can Black populism offer a democratic counterweight to right-wing populism without reproducing the elitism, personalism, or exclusionary tendencies that populist movements often exhibit?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. The quick answer is that Black populism—and by that, I mean a movement designed from below to increase the capacity of working-class populations to have their needs met, focusing particularly on Black people in this case—has significant potential. Black populations, in general, tend to be more democratic. I also think the potential for Black populism in major cities is greater now than at any other time.

What will prevent it from devolving into personalism is the necessity of electoral processes, particularly at the city and county levels, to put people in office and bring about these policy shifts. The act of running for office and building political majorities, almost by definition, makes it difficult, at least for Black populations, to turn toward the type of charismatic, populist leadership that lacks democratic mechanisms of accountability.

Neoliberal Common Sense Is No Longer the Prevailing One in American Politics

In Knocking the Hustle you criticized the penetration of neoliberal assumptions into Black political thought and the institutions claiming to represent Black communities. Days before the midterms, to what extent does the Democratic Party remain constrained by the market-oriented political framework you identified? Does its approach to economic inequality, racial justice, and urban governance reveal meaningful ideological transformation, or primarily a repackaging of familiar neoliberal commitments?

Professor Lester Spence: If you read that book—and for your readers, the PDF is available for free—you’ll see that it was written when Black Lives Matter was just beginning, years before Trump was elected, much less elected for a second time. Those Trump elections, along with the growth of Black Lives Matter organizing and, relatedly, Occupy Wall Street organizing, changed the terrain in terms of the common-sense neoliberal approaches that had dominated Black political life and American political life more broadly.

I no longer think that neoliberal common sense is the prevailing common sense. We can see evidence of this in the election of people like Brandon Johnson, Brandon Scott here in Baltimore, and Zohran Mamdani, even though he’s not African American. In addition, Black congressional representatives are moving further and further to the left. They’ve changed the terrain of common sense, so that the types of neoliberal policies I criticized in Knocking the Hustle now face significant opposition when they’re proposed. At the very least, they’re being contested significantly.

Black Political Representation Also Serves as a Firewall Against De-Democratizing Tendencies

You have argued that the growing number of Black elected officials has not necessarily translated into policies that materially improve the lives of working-class Black constituencies. How should we assess this tension in contemporary American politics, particularly in cities governed by Black political leadership? What distinguishes descriptive representation from substantive democratic empowerment, and what forms of institutional accountability might bridge the gap?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. I might not be able to answer it as quickly as you’d like, but what I’ll say is that what I missed was partly a consequence of the circumstances of my birth. I was born in 1969, when the benefits of the Civil Rights Movement were just beginning to take effect. Most important for this conversation was the Voting Rights Act, which significantly increased Black political representation.

Because of the circumstances of my birth and the way we study these questions, we didn’t fully know how to reckon with the historical lack of Black political representation, nor did we know how to reckon with the dismantling of the Voting Rights Act. Let me explain what I mean.

Usually, when we think about the question you just asked, we say, okay, we elected these Black political representatives to serve our interests. We identify those interests and then examine the gap between what our interests are and what our political representatives have advocated for and accomplished. We can trace the size of that gap over time and identify moments when they’re doing a pretty good job and others when they aren’t doing well at all, when there’s a significant gap.

What we didn’t take into account was the presence of a party that was literally trying to bring us as close as possible to the conditions of 1950, when Black people lacked political power. As a result, we failed to fully understand the extent to which Black political representation is not simply about ensuring that Black populations are represented and their needs substantively met. It’s also about serving as a firewall to prevent the worst de-democratizing tendencies from gaining control and making things significantly worse.

I still think it’s really important to figure out what kinds of mechanisms Black populations need to hold Black representatives accountable. In instances where they’re not represented by Black officials, we also need to understand how they can work both on their own behalf and in concert with other populations to get their needs met. But I’m increasingly of the belief that, even as we continue that work, we need to better understand practices designed not so much to give Black people what they need politically, but to protect them by preventing the worst outcomes from occurring.

That’s a really difficult thing to study, but it’s what we’ve largely missed. Again, it’s because I was born at a moment when it seemed as if we’d won. It seemed as though Black people would have a durable ability to elect representatives of their choice, although that ability remained constrained. But we’re not in that moment anymore. Things are going backwards as we speak, and we have to figure out new tools.

We’re Not as Attentive to the Pro-Democratizing Elements of Black Life as We Should Be

Kamala Harris.
Then-California Senator Kamala Harris announced her candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination in her hometown of Oakland, California, USA. Photo: Dreamstime.

Your critique of respectability politics suggests that emphasizing individual responsibility, entrepreneurial success, and middle-class behavioral norms can obscure structural inequalities within Black communities. How might this framework help explain the appeal of conservative political messaging among some Black voters, particularly younger men? Should such developments be interpreted primarily through gender, class, cultural identity, dissatisfaction with Democratic elites, or changing understandings of political representation?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question, but I’ll actually push back against it. I think it’s a really good question, yet one that also reflects a challenge in studying Black politics, democratization, and de-democratization.

If we look at the 2024 presidential election and acknowledge that, despite the challenges associated with Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party, Harris represented the democratizing tendency while Trump represented the de-democratizing tendency, we see something important.

Two populations gave more support to Kamala Harris and that democratizing tendency than any others. The first was Black women, with approximately 90–92% support. The second was Black men. The gap between Black women and Black men is statistically significant, meaning it’s not due to chance. But that gap is really small, particularly compared with the gap between them and everybody else. If you look at other women—white women, Latino women, and Asian American women—the gap between them and Black women is huge. Similarly, if you look at white men, Latino men, and Asian American men, the gap between them and Black men is enormous. It’s absolutely huge, and it’s statistically significant.

It’s not just Harris; it was also Biden and Obama. This pattern has persisted. People have been talking about the rise of conservative attitudes among Black populations, particularly men, but I actually think that this question shows we’re not as attentive to the pro-democratizing elements of Black life as we should be.

With that said, returning to respectability, I don’t think respectability explains that relatively small gap between Black men and Black women. What probably explains it is a combination of factors. Black men’s economic circumstances are probably the worst among any racial and gender group. What we see among some people is support for Trump simply because they didn’t think Biden spoke sufficiently to their needs.

A second element is that African American populations increasingly include both people born in the United States, whose families have lived here for generations, and people who live in the United States but come from elsewhere. I think that among Black immigrant populations, men are probably more likely to have voted for Trump than for Kamala. But neither of those factors has to do with respectability. I don’t think respectability plays as much of a role in these developments as people think.

When You Weaken the Voting Rights Act, You’re Undermining Protections for Everybody

The Supreme Court’s April 2026 decision in Louisiana v. Callais narrowed challenges to racial vote dilution under Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act. How does this ruling fit into America’s history of racial exclusion? Does the distinction between permissible partisan gerrymandering and unlawful racial discrimination enable racial inequalities in political representation to persist under race-neutral justifications?

Professor Lester Spence: The short answer is yes, but I’ll broaden that point. In the United States, even if we narrow democracy to elections and the ability to elect representatives of one’s choice, democracy functions to the extent that the rights of Black people, as Black people, are recognized both in law and in its interpretation.

Going back to the Reconstruction era, if not earlier, we see attempts to protect and extend political possibilities through Black politics, alongside attempts to constrain those same possibilities. Those constraints don’t just affect Black people; they ultimately work to the detriment of democracy more generally.

In the United States, for example, much of the apparatus we have for understanding when democracy is fundamentally broken, particularly in terms of electoral dynamics, is connected to the Voting Rights Act. So, when you weaken or effectively neutralize the Voting Rights Act, you’re not just undermining its protections for Black people; you’re essentially undermining those protections for everybody.

Democracy Goes as Black People Go

Martin Luther King Jr.
Martin Luther King Jr. mural on Broadway, Toledo, Ohio, USA. Photo: David Gaunt | Dreamstime.

The extraordinary wave of mid-decade redistricting ahead of the 2026 midterms has intensified competition over congressional boundaries, with Republican-led states seeking additional advantages and Democratic-led states pursuing countermeasures. How might these developments reshape Black electoral representation, particularly in the South? More fundamentally, when political parties can manipulate district boundaries to protect electoral power, what happens to the democratic principle that voters should choose their representatives rather than representatives effectively choosing their voters?

Professor Lester Spence: Again, what we’re going to see, unless something is done to change the way voting is conducted, is Black political representation dropping like a rock in the South and increasingly elsewhere. More broadly, we’re going to see support for the principle that people should be able to elect representatives of their choice, rather than the other way around, decline just as dramatically.

I cannot emphasize this enough: in the United States, democracy goes as Black people go. One of the challenges for political science as a discipline is to begin to fully understand that what happens to Black people aren’t something that happens somewhere else. It’s not simply that democratic harms inflicted on Black people affect only Black people. Rather, for historical reasons, Black people are at the center. So, what happens to Black people ultimately end up hurting everybody.

Black Voter Turnout, Political Alienation, and the 2026 Midterms

Donald Trump vs Kamala Harris for US President. Photo: Qubix Studio.

Black voters remain a central constituency in the Democratic electoral coalition, yet political representation does not necessarily translate into material improvements in their communities. As the midterms approach, how should we distinguish electoral demobilization rooted in political alienation from genuine ideological realignment? What do contemporary patterns of Black political behavior reveal about the relationship between racial solidarity, class divisions, institutional trust, and perceptions of political efficacy?

Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. Going back to the 2024 presidential election, Kamala Harris lost the Electoral College essentially because of Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and Michigan. Within those states, she lost because she lost Philadelphia, one of Pennsylvania’s two major metropolitan areas; Detroit, the major metropolitan area in Michigan; and Milwaukee, the major metropolitan area in Wisconsin.

In each of those three instances, it wasn’t a matter of Black people voting for Trump; it was a matter of declining Black voter turnout. So, why did Black voter turnout decline? Part of the answer lies in the question of what exactly the party is doing for us.

Given the Trump tendency and the racism at its core, Black voters basically have two choices: they either vote for the Democratic tendency or stay home. That decision to vote or stay home is shaped partly by mobilization, but also by the issues of institutional trust and political efficacy that you raised.

If we look at the extent to which Black populations feel that their interests are being addressed directly, particularly when the party faces a choice between speaking to Black voters and appealing to white moderates, or even white Republican moderates, some Black voters saw the decision to prioritize white Republican moderates over them and concluded, “Well, if it’s going to be like this, I’ll just stay home.”

That’s one plausible explanation, though certainly not the only one, for why Kamala Harris lost. The real challenge was that she had only a few months to run her campaign. That’s really the challenge. But embedded within that are questions of political efficacy, institutional trust, and what the party actually does for Black voters.

Going forward, what we have to do—and what we’re beginning to see with the election of a number of Black progressive candidates and progressive candidates more generally—is built on these successes and develop durable coalitions that place the material needs of Black and working-class populations at the center. We’ll know more next Tuesday. Even given everything, we have greater potential to do that now than perhaps we’ve had in a long time.

Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street, and Durable Political Institutions

In “Make Sure It Includes Everyone,” you questioned whether Black Lives Matter’s mobilization against state violence could develop into durable institutions capable of transforming local politics and the Democratic Party. Looking back from 2026, how would you assess the movement’s achievements and limitations? Has the changing political environment exposed the fragility of protest-centered mobilization, or have new forms of local political power emerged?

Professor Lester Spence: It’s the latter. New forms of local political power have emerged. In Baltimore, I can name the individuals who have been able to essentially flip the City Council as a result of organizing. I can do the same in other cities. I would point to someone like Brandon Johnson, along with a number of people on the Chicago City Council. I’ve mentioned Providence and New York, and we can also look at the Detroit City Council. There are a number of people in office today who wouldn’t be there without the combined influence of Black Lives Matter and Occupy Wall Street organizing.

I think my critique was right, but what I should have done better in that essay was address the potential of organizing over time. Political movements themselves create openings, and institutions then emerge to fill those gaps. DSA, for example, stepped into the space created by Occupy Wall Street and grew not only numerically but also in its ability to run candidates for office and win elections. We see similar developments emerging from the Black Lives Matter tendency.

At the outset, when you’re involved in a movement, it’s difficult to predict what shape those new institutions will take or how they will function. But what we’ve seen, particularly with the emergence of all these progressive and left-wing candidates, is evidence of people building on those movements and creating something durable.

Anti-Communist Attacks May Backfire Rather Than Achieve Political Success at the Ballot Box

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

In your July 2026 Counterpublic Papers, you described growing state violence, the targeting of Antifa, and hostility toward democratic socialism as elements of a new Red Scare combining white supremacy and anti-communism. How does this reflect America’s history of political repression? To what extent do anti-socialist narratives restrict legitimate political participation, including within the Democratic Party itself?

Professor Lester Spence: I want to give a shout-out to Charisse Burden-Stelly. More than almost anybody else, she’s been writing about the connections between Black politics, racial politics, communism, and anti-communism. That Counterpublic Paper relied in part on some of her work.

What’s happened in this moment, although it hasn’t been particularly effective, is that people have used the anti-communist label to tar just about anything to the left of the Trump tendency. Historically, that dynamic has been used to delegitimize movements going back to the labor movement, including the Civil Rights and Black Power movements. It’s also been used to delegitimize leaders within Black politics, whether they were integrationists who advocated nonviolence, like Martin Luther King Jr., or held different political positions. And it’s been used to legitimize racist and capitalist domination in American politics.

The challenge, going back to what I mentioned about my age and being born in 1969, is that I’m 57, and I remember when the Soviet Union existed. People today don’t necessarily know what communism and socialism are. Those labels don’t carry the same weight they once did because that political alternative was basically wiped out, with some exceptions. At the very least, in the United States, it was largely erased from our political imagination. So, the use of the anti-communist brush isn’t going to carry the same political weight anymore. In fact, support for socialism among younger voters is higher than at any point since polling on the issue began.

If anything, there’s a risk that this strategy could actually backfire. Again, to point to the same people I’ve been discussing, if you look at the actual governance of somebody like Zohran Mamdani, it doesn’t look anything like what those using the anti-communist or anti-socialist label suggest. It doesn’t resemble what people have been led to expect. People were arguing that immediately after the election, capital would flee New York like nobody’s business. But capital didn’t go anywhere.

People are using these labels rhetorically in ways similar to how they’ve been used in previous eras. They’re also being used politically. Trump controls the state, and he’s been using the FBI and other instruments of state power against radical activists. You can also understand his attacks on the economy as part of that project. But there’s a difference between deploying these attacks and achieving political success at the ballot box. And I just don’t see them being politically successful at the ballot box.

We Have to Prioritize Transforming Elections and State Capacity

And finally, Professor Spence, your scholarship emphasizes the limits of electoral representation without structural change. As Americans prepare to vote on November 3, what would constitute meaningful democratic progress for Black working-class communities beyond partisan electoral victories? How might your conception of Black populism distinguish genuine political empowerment from electoral mobilization without institutional transformation?

Professor Lester Spence: One way to think about this is to return to the weakening of the Voting Rights Act. When Black people first seized political power, they changed the trajectory of the United States through the Reconstruction-era amendments. We see Black people using their political power both to constrain the white Confederacy in the South and to build a new progressive infrastructure. They created the first public schools and began taxing capital.

Fast-forward to the passage of the Voting Rights Act and the creation of the Congressional Black Caucus. Its members were to the left of the Democratic Party and proposed a range of progressive and left-leaning policies deeply connected to labor.

What these two instances demonstrate is that it’s not just about electing people; it’s about creating a new model that protects Black voters and voting rights while expanding the capacity of political power to generate progressive change.

In the current circumstances, with the Voting Rights Act being weakened, this could mean supporting a new Voting Rights Act or something like proportional voting—new voting systems that allow people to vote in different ways, enhancing their ability to act on their own behalf and work with other constituencies.

We have to consider that first. We have to prioritize transforming elections and state capacity because of how virulent, deeply racist, and anti-democratic the Trump tendency is. But beyond that, we need to think not just about changing the electoral system but also about reforming the different components of federal power. That means constraining the executive branch, constraining the judicial branch, and expanding the legislative branch to make it more democratic.

These kinds of reforms help build a constituency that supports them. Once that constituency and political project are established, the project can be linked to working-class policies that not only protect people’s ability to participate in government but also strengthen and further develop their capacity to secure material benefits from government.

Flávio Bolsonaro.

Flávio Bolsonaro’s Exile and the Dream of a MAGA Brazil

In this commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias examines the political significance of Flávio Bolsonaro’s departure for the United States and its implications for Bolsonarism’s increasingly transnational orientation. Drawing on the ideological affinities between Bolsonarism and Trump’s MAGA movement, Dr. Dias explores how narratives of political persecution, electoral illegitimacy, and national salvation can transform foreign intervention into an expression of supposed patriotism. Particular attention is devoted to evangelical conservatism, conspiratorial thinking, and the political instrumentalization of exile. Situating these dynamics within the Trump administration’s renewed assertion of American dominance in the Western Hemisphere, the commentary argues that Bolsonarism’s pursuit of external protection exposes a fundamental contradiction between nationalist rhetoric and political sovereignty, raising broader questions about populism, democratic legitimacy, and foreign influence in Brazil.

By João Ferreira Dias

Flávio Bolsonaro’s departure for the United States can serve several political purposes. It allows a defeated candidate to be presented as a persecuted leader, gives Bolsonarism a platform from which to seek American intervention and connects the movement’s ambitions with Washington’s renewed claim to predominance in the Americas. These possibilities acquire particular significance among supporters who already look to Donald Trump to save Brazil from its own elected government.

The “SOS” appeals posted by Brazilian users in White House comment sections express that expectation of rescue. A foreign president is asked to act as the protector of a nation supposedly held captive by its domestic enemies. There is also a documented precedent beyond social media. During Brazil’s Independence Day demonstrations in September 2025, Bolsonaro supporters displayed American flags and called for US sanctions to continue, despite their potential costs to the Brazilian economy (CNN Brasil, 2025). For those participants, foreign coercion had become an acceptable means of pursuing domestic political objectives.

What, then, does patriotism mean when national salvation depends on the intervention of another country?

The answer requires examining how these supporters understand the nation. If the authentic Brazil is identified exclusively with Bolsonarism, a government elected by its opponents can be treated as an occupying power. Pressure against that government becomes compatible with love of country because the political community has already been reduced to those who belong to the movement. The rights and choices of everyone else lose their authority to define Brazil’s future.

This helps explain the attraction of a Brazilian political order modelled on MAGA. Trump offers these sectors a language of national restoration and a model of leadership organized around confrontation with institutions and internal enemies. Americanization, in this political sense, promises a Brazil in which their own values prevail with the backing of a powerful foreign protector. The resulting dependence can be understood by its supporters as the recovery of a country they believe has been taken from them.

The comparison with MAGA also concerns the capacity to sustain a political reality insulated from contradiction. Within this interpretative framework, electoral defeat is evidence of fraud, judicial proceedings confirm persecution, and leaving the country demonstrates that democracy has ceased to exist. Events that might lead supporters to question their convictions can instead reinforce them. Conspiratorial explanations provide ways of preserving the leader’s innocence and the movement’s claim to represent the nation, however far those explanations depart from verifiable reality.

The evangelical dimension matters within this process. Almeida’s (2019) analysis situates a significant and internally diverse evangelical constituency within Brazil’s conservative mobilization. Where political conflict acquires the language of spiritual warfare, compromise becomes harder to accommodate: opponents can be understood as agents of evil, while leadership assumes a providential significance. Under these conditions, the experience of defeat can strengthen the expectation that the leader has a mission yet to fulfil.

Exile can give that expectation a new political form. The absent leader remains available as the representative of a supposedly captive nation, protected abroad while awaiting the conditions for his return. Distance also allows supporters to imagine him beyond the compromises of ordinary opposition politics. Flávio does not automatically inherit his father’s charisma, but the narrative of persecution offers a means of constructing that inheritance. American protection can become part of the story through which he claims to continue a family mission interrupted at home.

This expectation meets a receptive geopolitical framework in the Donroe Doctrine. The 2025 US National Security Strategy reasserts American predominance in the Western Hemisphere through a Trump Corollary to the Monroe Doctrine. It also commits Washington to encouraging regional governments, parties and movements aligned with its principles and strategy (The White House, 2025: 15–16). Ideological affinity therefore has an explicit place within the pursuit of American regional power.

Flávio’s presence abroad can help connect the demand for national rescue with that external agenda. A narrative of persecution supplies a justification for pressure on Brazilian institutions, while American support can reinforce the authority of the leader seeking protection. This convergence does not require assuming that every step has been coordinated or that intervention must take a military form. Sanctions and diplomatic pressure already offer instruments through which foreign power can be brought into a domestic struggle.

The danger is that the restoration promised to supporters comes to depend on political tutelage from Washington. For the bolsonaristas asking Trump to save their country, a MAGA-inspired Brazil under American protection can become more desirable than a sovereign Brazil governed by their opponents.


 

References

Almeida, R. de. (2019). “Bolsonaro presidente: Conservadorismo, evangelismo e a crise brasileira.” Novos Estudos CEBRAP, 38(1), 185–213. https://doi.org/10.25091/S01013300201900010010

CNN Brasil. (2025, September 7). Análise: Em ato, bolsonaristas pedem que os EUA continuem a aplicar sanções. https://www.cnnbrasil.com.br/politica/analise-em-ato-b

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

Lula’s Historic Comeback: Implications for Brazilian Democracy and the Emerging Global Order

In this commentary, Dr. Prerna Chahar examines the domestic and geopolitical implications of Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva’s historic comeback in Brazil’s October 25, 2026, presidential runoff. Overcoming a first-round deficit, Lula secured a fourth presidential mandate with 51.79 percent of the vote, defeating Flávio Bolsonaro amid persistent polarization and contested electoral legitimacy. Dr. Chahar argues that this outcome underscores both Brazil’s democratic resilience and the continuing challenges posed by political division and institutional distrust. Internationally, Lula’s victory reinforces Brazil’s pursuit of strategic autonomy, multilateralism, and a more representative global order. Particular attention is devoted to BRICS, the G20, South–South cooperation, and relations with the United States, China, and India, highlighting Brazil’s evolving position within an increasingly multipolar international system.

Dr. Prerna Chahar*

Brazil’s presidential election of October 25, 2026, has implications extending far beyond Latin America. President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva won an unprecedented fourth presidential mandate, defeating conservative challenger Flávio Bolsonaro with 51.79 percent of valid votes against 48.21 percent. The result has renewed debates about democratic legitimacy, US influence in the Western Hemisphere, Brazil’s strategic autonomy, and the future of BRICS, the G20 and South-South cooperation. It also demonstrates how domestic electoral choices can influence the foreign-policy orientation of an important emerging power.

Lula’s political career reflects Brazil’s democratic transformation. Born into poverty in northeastern Brazil, he worked as a metalworker before emerging as a trade union leader during labor mobilizations against military rule in the late 1970s. He subsequently helped establish the Workers’ Party (PT), which became associated with labor rights, social inclusion and economic redistribution.

After several unsuccessful presidential campaigns, Lula won the presidency in 2002 and was re-elected in 2006. His governments from 2003 to 2010 prioritized social welfare, poverty reduction and Brazil’s international engagement. His political career was later disrupted by corruption investigations and imprisonment. His convictions were subsequently annulled, restoring his eligibility to contest the presidency. He returned to office after defeating Jair Bolsonaro in 2022. His 2026 victory marks his fourth successful presidential election, following those of 2002, 2006 and 2022.

Timing, Scope and Significance of the Election

Brazil’s general elections took place on October 4, 2026, with a presidential runoff on October 25 because neither candidate secured an absolute majority in the first round. The elections covered the presidency, state governorships, the National Congress and state legislatures. The results therefore determine not only executive leadership but also the legislative balance that will shape the next government’s ability to implement its agenda.

In the first round, Flávio Bolsonaro received 47.03 percent of valid votes, ahead of Lula’s 45.16 percent. Lula subsequently reversed this deficit, becoming the first candidate in Brazil’s current two-round presidential system to finish second in the first round and win the presidency in the runoff. He received 64,256,232 votes against Bolsonaro’s 59,826,041. 

Lula’s victory marks the first time in Brazil’s modern democratic history that a presidential candidate has overturned a first-round deficit to win the presidency. Since the adoption of the two-round presidential election system in 1989, every candidate who led the first round had gone on to win the runoff until Lula’s historic comeback in 2026.

Reactions from Bolsonaro and Trump

Following his defeat, Flávio Bolsonaro initially refused to concede and called for the election to be annulled. He challenged a two-hour extension of voting at some polling stations, authorized to address transport difficulties affecting voters. However, the extension itself did not establish electoral fraud. His position subsequently shifted towards pursuing a legal challenge over alleged abuse of incumbency. Meanwhile, Brazil’s electoral authorities confirmed Lula’s victory. The episode recalls the response of his father, Jair Bolsonaro, to his 2022 defeat. Jair Bolsonaro was subsequently convicted over an attempt to overturn the electoral order and sentenced to 27 years in prison.

The central democratic question is whether electoral disputes are resolved through evidence, judicial review and constitutional procedures rather than unsupported allegations that undermine public confidence. Lula’s victory demonstrates the functioning of electoral competition, but Brazil’s democratic resilience will depend on institutional independence, transparency and the treatment of political opposition.

US President Donald Trump added an international dimension to the controversy by describing Brazil’s election on October 26 as appearing to be “another rigged election,” without providing evidence of irregularities. His comments reflected the ideological proximity between the Trump administration and the Bolsonaro political movement.

Lula’s victory preserves a government committed to an independent Brazilian foreign policy. His assertion that Brazil would not be anyone’s backyard captures its ambition to maintain strategic autonomy while engaging with the United States, China and other major powers.

BRICS, the G20 and South-South Cooperation

Lula’s fourth victory provides continuity for Brazil’s role in BRICS, where it has advocated greater representation for developing economies in global governance, stronger development financing and reform of international financial institutions. Brazil’s engagement with China will remain important for trade, infrastructure, agriculture and energy, without necessarily requiring alignment against Washington.

The G20 offers a broader platform for cooperation between advanced and emerging economies on climate finance, food security, debt sustainability and development. While BRICS can deepen coordination among emerging powers, the G20 can facilitate negotiations across different political and economic groupings. Neither forum, however, guarantees reform; progress depends on members translating shared commitments into practical outcomes.

For India, Brazil is an important partner in both institutions. Stronger India–Brazil cooperation could advance agricultural research, biofuels, renewable energy, digital technologies and climate action. More broadly, Lula’s mandate offers an opportunity to strengthen South–South cooperation through reciprocal trade, technology sharing, development finance and institutional capacity-building. Such cooperation must deliver measurable benefits rather than remain a declaration of political solidarity.

Lula’s fourth presidential victory represents a consequential moment for Brazilian democracy and its international orientation. It preserves Brazil’s commitment to strategic autonomy, multilateral engagement and cooperation through BRICS and the G20, while exposing the challenges of governing a divided electorate.

Ultimately, Brazil’s global influence will depend on economic performance, coalition-building and its ability to translate diplomatic ambitions into practical partnerships. The broader lesson for the emerging global order is that multipolarity depends not simply on resistance to established powers, but on democratic choice, national policy autonomy and effective international cooperation.


 

(*) Dr. Prerna Chahar is a scholar of International Relations whose research focuses on US foreign policy, inter-American relations, regional cooperation, and India’s foreign policy. She holds a Ph.D. in International Relations from the Centre for the Study of the Americas (CSA), School of International Studies, Jawaharlal Nehru University, New Delhi, India.

Matteo Salvini, Italy’s Deputy Prime Minister and leader of the right-wing populist Lega party, which held its extraordinary congress in Milan on October 24–25, 2026. Photo:  Mihail Ivanov / Dreamstime.

Lega’s Changing Tactics, Enduring Populism: Salvini’s Political Reset Ahead of 2027

In this commentary, Niccolò Capozzi examines Matteo Salvini’s political repositioning following Lega’s extraordinary congress in Milan on October 24–25, 2026. Drawing on the party’s responses to the financial, migration, and COVID-19 crises, Capozzi argues that Lega has repeatedly adapted its leadership style, political enemies, and definition of “the people” while preserving its fundamental populist antagonism between ordinary citizens and corrupt elites. Salvini’s reelection, the removal of his name from the party logo, and renewed emphasis on federalism reflect efforts to address internal divisions and declining electoral support. As Lega approaches Italy’s 2027 general election, its criticism of military assistance to Ukraine signals another potential strategic shift. Yet, Capozzi concludes, the party’s underlying populist grammar remains remarkably unchanged.

By Niccolò Capozzi*

On October 24–25, 2026, Italy’s far-right party, known as Lega, held an extraordinary congress in Milan. Its leader, Matteo Salvini, had called it after some northern party members had called for a more federal party that was more attentive to the North. Does this move signal a change of identity or a change of tactics? To find out, we need to look at how Lega has acted and communicated during past crises, where a clear pattern emerges.

During the 2008 financial crisis, the 2015 migration crisis, and the 2020–2023 COVID-19 pandemic, Lega changed its enemies, its leadership style, and the way it exploited each emergency to its own advantage; however, the core of its message remained the same. During the financial crisis, Umberto Bossi was the leader of Lega Nord (Northern League), a regionalist movement that differed from its current form and represented ‘Padania,’ the North of Italy. It pitted the ‘people’ – the productive North – against the elite in Rome (meaning the central state, not Silvio Berlusconi’s government, of which Lega Nord was itself a member) and a South described as parasitic and non-contributing. The EU and the euro remained in the background. This contrast between a ‘pure’ people and a corrupt elite is what the political scientist Cas Mudde identifies as the defining feature of populism.

Every year, Bossi held an annual party rally in Pontida, a small town near Bergamo. He spoke to his supporters about contemporary issues. His bond with them was so strong that he used dialectal words typical of the North and opened rallies with ‘Va Pensiero,’ the chorus from Verdi’s Nabucco that the party had adopted as its anthem instead of Italy’s national anthem. At the party congress in 2012, for example, he complained about having to ‘work six months a year to pay taxes and sustain the waste of the south’ – a sign of the resentment and aversion the party felt towards the other part of Italy. However, the party was soon to change.

In December 2013, Matteo Salvini became the leader and began turning the party into a national force; the word ‘Nord’ would later disappear from its symbol. In 2015, as the migration crisis unfolded, Salvini enjoyed complete tactical freedom because Lega was in opposition to the center-left government of Matteo Renzi’s Democratic Party (PD). During this period, the ‘people’ were identified as workers, the unemployed, and people with disabilities, whilst the enemies were irregular migrants, the NGOs helping them, and the Renzi government. In this instance, the crisis was portrayed as a sort of invasion by illegal immigrants, to the extent that a rally called ‘Stop Invasione’ (Stop the Invasion) was organized in October 2014 in Milan. Salvini called himself ‘Capitano’ and used short slogans designed for television – and thus to attract viewers. Subsequently, he brought the same message to the European Parliament, where he accused the EU of caring about immigrants while it ‘couldn’t care less about the unemployed.’

When the pandemic hit in 2020, Lega was back in opposition, having left Giuseppe Conte’s first government in 2019. Its communication strategy varied considerably; in March 2020, Salvini said that ‘we must shut everything down’; a few months later, he feared that hunger would kill more people than the virus; in 2021, he rejected the Green Pass – Italy’s COVID-19 certificate – saying that the people should not be subject to any kind of obligation. The enemies were Conte’s second government, its scientific advisory committee, virologists and, finally, Brussels, which was failing to act. His style also changed: he no longer addressed the public loudly from a stage but adopted a calmer, more institutional tone – partly because he spoke in the Senate and tabled bills. One detail worth noting: from February 2021, Lega was part of the Draghi government – the same government that introduced the Green Pass – yet it continued to oppose the measures. This is important for understanding how tactics adapt: the party changes its position but continues to present itself as the voice of the people who decide.

In all three crises, two elements have never changed: the opposition between a ‘pure’ people and a corrupt elite, and the moralization of politics. At the same time, the definition of ‘the people,’ the identity of the enemy, and the leader’s rhetoric were constantly shifting. Thus, the tactics changed while the underlying structure remained the same. It is through this lens that this year’s Milan congress should be analyzed.

Salvini had formally resigned in order to stand again and as expected, he was re-elected by secret ballot held on October 25, 2026, with 465 votes to 146 for his challenger, Massimo Garavaglia, a Lega senator and former tourism minister. The first move the ‘new’ leader made was to remove his own name from Lega’s logo and insert ‘Italia Federale,’ a formula first used by Bossi in 1994. Apparently, he made this change because the new electoral law requires coalitions to name their candidate for Prime Minister, and that is currently Giorgia Meloni. However, Salvini’s actions in recent times have sparked tensions within Lega; therefore, his decision is aimed more at reuniting the party around him. Removing the leader’s name is also a change in leadership style – one of the tactical dimensions described above – and shows how tactics depend on a populist party’s institutional position.

During the congress, Salvini also said he regretted joining Mario Draghi’s technocratic government during the pandemic. This is revealing, given that, while in that government, he had spoken as if he were in opposition in order to protect his popularity. The party now disowns the very tactic it used in 2021 – further evidence that tactics can change or be abandoned, even though the core of the message remains intact: Lega as the voice of the people against those in power.

What does the congress mean for the 2027 general election campaign? Lega currently stands at around 5 percent in the polls, compared with 8.8 percent in the 2022 general election. The problem is not limited to the North. Even Lega’s Senate group leader, Massimiliano Romeo, has admitted that people are no longer voting for Lega. Moreover, the northern leaders who had been calling for a change in leadership did not present a united front in the vote, and figures such as Luca Zaia, who governed Veneto for 15 years, ended up backing Salvini’s line. It is foreseeable that Lega will seek a new enemy to rally support for future national elections, and the congress offered a first candidate: aid to Ukraine. Salvini has said that Italy ‘cannot keep sending money’ and weapons to Kyiv. The pattern is the same as in 2015, when the party claimed that money was being spent on migrants rather than on Italians; today, the funds in question are those allocated to Ukraine. The enemy changes, but the pattern remains.

Lega’s congress serves as an example of how populist parties react when the crisis does not stem from external factors – the euro, migrants, or the virus – but from within the party itself. Even if the party tries to change elements such as its symbol, the role of its leaders, the constituency it addresses, and its enemies, the core of its message never changes: the honest people versus a distant elite that betrays them. It has learnt to change everything except its own grammar.


 

(*) Niccolò Capozzi graduated with a degree in Political Science and International Relations from the University of Florence and obtained a master’s degree in European Studies from Maastricht University, with a thesis on populist communication during crises. He is currently studying for the Joint Master’s in Global Economic Governance and Public Affairs at the LUISS School of Government and CIFE, based in Rome, Berlin, and Nice, and has interests in European politics, populism, political communication, and geopolitics.

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

Long Read: Turkey’s Fund Crisis and the Political Economy of Authoritarian Rule

In this commentary, Professor Ibrahim Ozturk examines Turkey’s 2026 investment-fund crisis as a manifestation of the political economy of populist authoritarian rule under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. He argues that the scandal reflects not merely financial misconduct but the cumulative consequences of personalized power, weakened regulatory independence, and politically mediated economic privileges. Drawing on institutional indicators, monetary-policy developments, and the networks connecting political elites, financial regulators, and market actors, Professor Ozturk demonstrates how populist appeals to sovereignty legitimize selective economic protection while ordinary investors bear disproportionate losses. He contends that lasting recovery requires more than financial stabilization or individual prosecutions: it demands institutional reconstruction, independent oversight, transparency, and effective constitutional constraints on presidential authority.

By Ibrahim Ozturk

Turkey’s 2026 investment-fund crisis is a structurally generated, unavoidable outcome of the autocratic regime Erdogan has constructed. The presidential system introduced in 2018 consolidated personalized authority, weakened institutional checks, and subordinated professional judgment to political dependence. Discretionary monetary policy and compromised financial oversight share an allocation logic: access and protection are selective, while losses fall on households and public balance sheets. Populist claims of sovereignty legitimize this arrangement; restrictions on journalism, opposition, and independent scrutiny obstruct its correction. The crisis therefore belongs to a cumulative history of weakened accountability and opportunities for rent extraction. Lasting recovery requires changing the institutions that reproduce these outcomes, which is unlikely under Erdogan’s preferred architecture for regime overhaul.

Populism, Selective State Capacity, and Regime Reproduction

Turkey’s September 2026 fund crisis should be understood as a manifestation of Erdogan’s political-economic order. Its significance extends beyond market participants’ misconduct to the deliberate weakening of institutions that can constrain them. Building on my earlier ECPS work, this commentary argues that recurrent financial crises are endogenous to a regime that concentrates appointment powers, distributes protection selectively and restricts independent challenge. The exact timing of a collapse is contingent; the repeated production of risk and unequal loss is a foreseeable consequence of these institutional choices.

Mudde’s account defines populism through a moral opposition between a virtuous people and a corrupt elite. In office, those who claim to embody the popular will can delegitimize courts, regulators, and professional dissent as obstacles to the national mandate. Under Erdogan, this justificatory language accompanies a governing structure in which loyalty increasingly substitutes for independent judgment. Populism supplies the legitimacy claim; authoritarian institutional reorganization supplies the means of overriding constraints.

Dornbusch and Edwards identify a macroeconomic cycle in which expansionary promises discount inflation and external financing constraints, eventually imposing adjustment costs on intended beneficiaries. Turkey adds a distributional dimension: politically mediated credit, asset ownership and access to protection favour already advantaged groups. Rodrik’s distinction between political and economic populism helps separate legitimate challenges to entrenched privilege from the removal of safeguards against executive predation.

The causal mechanism operates through appointments, incentives and information. Political dependence weakens oversight; privileged access enables selective gains; public intervention can displace losses onto less-protected groups. Restricting scrutiny then lowers the likelihood of correction and permits repetition. Cross-country evidence links populist leadership to institutional erosion and lower long-run income; the Turkish case identifies the channels through which that broader association becomes a governing practice.

This situation reflects a selective state capacity rather than a uniformly weak state: substantial power to mobilize credit, reorganize institutions, and discipline critics coexists with weakened independent capacity to restrain connected interests. My 2022 ECPS analysis traced Turkey’s economic deterioration to the reversal of reforms and the subordination of expertise. The fund scandal extends that diagnosis from macroeconomic management to financial-market governance.

For instance, the broader institutional trajectory, central to the current crisis conundrum, predates the ongoing monetary experiments and the financial sector more broadly. Between 2014 and 2025, V-Dem’s central estimates fell from 0.538 to 0.402 for human rights, from 0.252 to 0.110 for liberal democracy, and from 0.386 to 0.157 for the rule of law. The sharpest declines occurred in 2016–2017; when the highly controversial coup attempt took place, later improvements did not restore earlier levels. Table 1 juxtaposes this deterioration with currency depreciation, accumulated inflation and increased income concentration. The indices describe institutional conditions rather than individual culpability.

From Institutional Reform to the Erosion of Accountability

The 2000–2001 crisis provides an institutional baseline for comparison. Fiscal fragility, public-bank losses and weak banking discipline exposed vulnerabilities that political confrontation triggered. Banking restructuring, stronger supervision and a floating exchange rate subsequently supported recovery under an IMF, World Bank and EU membership-reform framework. The AKP, the current government party, initially benefited from this inherited trajectory. Its later dismantling matters precisely because institutional credibility and international engagement had demonstrated their economic value.

The December 2013 deep successive corruption scandals and investigations, which brought allegations of extensive bribery, illicit gold trading and abuse of public office involving high-profile ministers in Erdogan’s inner circle into public view, also raised broader questions about ruling-party parliamentarians and businessmen allegedly awarded tailor-made public contracts in exchange for financial and political favors sought by Erdogan himself. The subsequent response marked a critical rupture in accountability: despite the gravity of the allegations, Parliament declined to refer four former ministers for trial, closing the route to judicial examination that referral would have opened. The US conviction of Mehmet Hakan Atilla, who served as deputy general manager of the state-owned Halkbank, and the guilty plea of Reza Zarrab, who was a gold trader central to the December 2013 allegations, subsequently established sanctions-evasion offenses in a separate jurisdiction. Although legally distinct, these cases illuminate a connected political-economic mechanism: shielding politically connected actors from independent scrutiny weakens deterrence and entrenches expectations of protection. Impunity becomes cumulative when accountability failures incentivize subsequent abuses.

The 2018 confrontation with Donald Trump’s administration exposed the limits of performed sovereignty to be used as a decisive element in domestic populist politics. In August 2018, US sanctions over the detention of Andrew Brunson, an American pastor held in Turkey on terrorism-related charges that Washington rejected as unfounded, escalated the diplomatic confrontation. Trump’s subsequent 50 percent tariff on Turkish steel, which doubled the existing 25 percent duty and sharply increased the barriers facing Turkish exporters in the US market, added trade pressure to the dispute. These measures aggravated an economy already vulnerable to dependence on external financing and currency mismatches, as the IMF’s assessment documented. The confrontation thus exposed the material limits of sovereignty rhetoric in an economy dependent on international capital and export markets. As a result, depreciation increased import costs and foreign-currency debt burdens. 

The CBRT responded by raising its policy rate from 17.75 to 24 percent. The problem was the durability of stabilization when presidential authority could subsequently displace its institutional basis. Reserve depletion followed a separate policy choice. Reuters reported approximately US$128 billion in dollar sales by state banks over the preceding two years in May 2021; the IMF identified inadequate buffers and negative net reserves after swaps. Obviously, dollar sales against lira do not prove the entire sum was stolen, but they highlight limited public capacity and insufficient transparency about transactions and beneficiaries. Defending a politically preferred exchange-rate path consumed resources while postponing acknowledgment of underlying constraints.

Discretionary Easing, Selective protection, and Costly Stabilization

Political intervention weakened institutional capacity by subordinating professional judgment to presidential preferences. Figure 1 connects successive monetary-policy reversals to the executive’s appointment and removal powers. Following Murat Cetinkaya’s dismissal in July 2019, the policy rate fell from 24 to 8.25 percent under Murat Uysal. Naci Agbal later reversed course, raising it to 19 percent in March 2021, but was dismissed two days after his final increase. His removal showed how vulnerable professional tenure is when monetary decisions conflict with presidential preferences.

Under Sahap Kavcioglu, politically imposed easing reduced the policy rate from 19 percent in September 2021 to 8.5 percent by February 2023. At the November 2022 decision, the rate stood 76.51 percentage points below the latest published annual inflation rate. This nominal gap, rather than a realized return, captures the divergence between monetary policy and prevailing inflation. Cheap lira financing encouraged foreign-currency and asset purchases, contributing to depreciation while offering asset-owning borrowers protections unavailable to wage earners and unhedged savers.

Erdogan legitimized easing by shifting appeals from rhetoric about “sovereignty” and “external enemies” to religious authority. Invoking nas—a binding Islamic injunction—against usury (riba), he framed lower interest rates not only as a religious obligation, but also asserted that interest causes inflation, not vice versa. This shift between nationalist and religious justifications illustrates populism’s adaptability: both appeals shield discretionary authority from scrutiny while society absorbs the costs.

After the 2023 elections, tightening under Hafize Gaye Erkan and Fatih Karahan raised the rate to 50 percent by March 2024; by year-end, it exceeded annual CPI inflation. Figure 2 shows the successive burdens of inflationary erosion and costly stabilization. Inflation initially accelerated despite tightening as depreciation, tax and administered-price increases, wage adjustments and expectations interacted with delayed monetary transmission. This coexistence does not establish that higher rates caused the preceding crisis. More fundamentally, technocratic correction restored a conventional instrument without constraining the executive powers that had enabled its subordination.

Exchange-rate-protected deposits (known as Kur Korumalı Mevduat-KKM) introduced in December 2021 shifted some depreciation risk onto the Treasury and Central Bank balance sheets. Participating savers received publicly underwritten protection unavailable to households without qualifying deposits. Successive policy shifts thus created different opportunities for protection through cheap credit, asset appreciation, KKM guarantees and later high nominal deposit returns. Credit-constrained households and firms instead faced purchasing-power losses, expensive working capital and weaker demand. Establishing that the same connected actors benefited throughout requires linked transaction records; the structural mechanism is the repeated redistribution of gains and losses through discretionary policy.

Distributional indicators reveal unequal capacities to absorb these shocks. The World Bank income Gini rose from 41.2 in 2014 to 43.7 in 2023, while UBS reports a separate wealth Gini of 0.73 for 2025, placing Turkey tenth among covered markets. The OECD Employment Outlook 2026 reports approximately 79 percent growth in CPI-deflated business-sector hourly wages between early 2021 and early 2026, alongside a falling minimum-to-median wage ratio and declining real minimum wages by April 2026. Average wage recovery therefore coexisted with uneven gains; it neither measures median household income nor resolves concerns about the official inflation deflator.

TURK-IS’s November 2025 estimates make this insecurity concrete: the net minimum wage covered only 74.1 percent of a four-person household’s food budget and 57 percent of a single worker’s estimated living costs. These adequacy benchmarks, rather than official poverty rates, demonstrate low-paid workers’ exposure to essential expenses. Limited public provision compounds that exposure. Turkey ranks near the bottom of the OECD’s social-spending comparison, while health expenditure amounted to 4.7 percent of GDP against an OECD average of 9.3 percent. These overlapping measures highlight the opportunity costs of financial guarantees when public services remain comparatively underfunded.

Although the IMF acknowledged that post-2023 tightening reduced crisis risks, changing the monetary instrument leaves politically mediated allocation intact. Recovery must therefore be assessed through investment, distribution and public capacity alongside disinflation.

Persistent price increases also undermine planning. Compounding official inflation rates shows that prices increased approximately 432 percent between end-2020 and end-2024; subsequent disinflation did not reverse that accumulation. Over the longer period, annual-average inflation rose from 8.85 percent in 2014 to 34.88 percent in 2025, while the exchange rate moved from TRY2.19 to TRY39.45 per dollar. The annual-average CPI implies that a fixed nominal lira amount retained only approximately 7.6 percent of its 2014 purchasing power.

Statistical credibility is integral to this institutional problem. TUIK’s repeated leadership changes and its June 2022 replacement of published average item prices with item indices intensified concerns about independence and scrutiny. Because inflation data govern wage bargaining, indexation and policy evaluation, credible measurement requires transparent methods, accessible information and independent review.

Supply and demand continue to operate, but unstable money obscures relative prices and sustainable margins. Firms may postpone productive investment while households seek exceptional nominal returns to recover earlier losses. The resulting demand for financial protection becomes an opportunity for extraction where independent oversight, reliable information, and enforceable investor rights are weak.

The Fund Fraud: Distorted Price Discovery, the Demand for Financial Protection 

The fund crisis follows from the interaction of these conditions. Monetary instability creates demand for protection; concentrated portfolios amplify valuation risk; politically dependent oversight weakens correction. The scandal is therefore part of the regime’s cumulative political economy, not an isolated accident outside it. Institutional responsibility rests on the deliberate construction and maintenance of this incentive structure; individual criminal responsibility still depends on evidence of particular acts.

The crisis emerged after explicit warnings, not in the absence of information. On 4 November 2025, Finance Minister Mehmet Simsek publicly acknowledged manipulation through certain investment funds and promised stronger regulation. MSCI’s June 2026 review subsequently flagged possible coordinated trading and artificially inflated free-float estimates. S&P Dow Jones Indices warned in July about transparency and market-classification risks, while FTSE Russell also raised concerns over transparency and market accessibility. This accumulation of domestic acknowledgment and external warnings shifts the accountability question from whether authorities knew to why their response failed to contain the risks. Early evidence points to political protection or interference obstructing effective intervention, requiring an independent examination of supervisory correspondence and decision records.

After mounting external pressure that, unless decisive corrective measures are taken, Turkey could be isolated from emerging market status, the Capital Markets Board (SPK) placed in September 131 funds associated with seven portfolio-management companies into liquidation, with 455,758 unique investors subsequently identified. Reuters reported affected assets exceeding US$18 billion and a weekly equity-index decline of more than 8 percent. These figures show the scale of exposure and disruption, not the amount stolen or final investor losses.

Other indicators show how stress spread beyond the affected funds. A press compilation of Central Securities Depository data recorded a fall in listed-equity capitalization from TRY22.91 trillion at end-August to TRY19.08 trillion in late September, approximately 16.7 percent. Reporting based on TEFAS data identified net fund outflows exceeding TRY210 billion after August 28. Meanwhile, net purchases through Ziraat Yatirim reportedly reached TRY22.3 billion on September 21, while gross central-bank reserves fell by US$13.8 billion between August 28 and September 18. Valuation changes, withdrawals, brokerage transactions and reserve movements measure different phenomena. They cannot be added into a single damage estimate or attributed entirely to the crisis. Purchases through a publicly owned intermediary also do not establish public expenditure without identifying the underlying accounts.

Valuation Feedback, Liquidity Risk, and Delayed Intervention

In the emerging Ponzi-like scheme, the financial mechanism combines valuation feedback with liquidity risk. Concentrated purchases of thinly traded low-free-float shares can raise quoted prices and reported fund values. Strong apparent performance attracts subscriptions that finance further purchases; higher collateral valuations may also support additional borrowing. Where related parties control funds and portfolio companies, investors’ interests may conflict with the wider group’s financing objectives.

This cycle can widen the gap between quoted prices and realizable portfolio value. Redemption pressure exposes the discrepancy, while sales of liquid holdings transmit stress to other securities. The Financial Stability Board recognizes liquidity mismatch as a general vulnerability of open-ended funds. Turkey’s distinctive problem is whether its institutions could identify and constrain the accumulation of these risks independently of commercial and political pressures.

However, the principal–agent problem in Turkey extends beyond fund management, underlining a broader systemic characteristic. Investors entrust managers with assets; citizens entrust regulators with protection. When the political executive controls supervisory appointments, agents may be incentivized to satisfy influential networks rather than their public mandate. Preferential access and weak sanctions then lower the expected cost of risk-taking and extraction. The formal existence of a regulator is insufficient when its effective independence has been subordinated.

The SPK’s September 18 statement acknowledged abnormal fund-driven movements in low-free-float shares during the final quarter of 2025. The Financial Stability Committee considered the issue on December 2; a working group followed on December 3; the qualified-investor threshold increased on December 18. Comprehensive guide changes came on August 28, 2026. The interval makes supervisory responsibility unavoidable: administrative activity cannot establish that known exposures were adequately constrained or that continuing investors were protected.

The Principal–Agent Problem: Information Asymmetry, Conflicts of Interest and Institutional Protection

The fund crisis exposes a chain of delegated authority: investors entrust assets to managers, citizens entrust protection to regulators, and the executive appoints supervisors. Managers know more than investors; officials control records unavailable to citizens. Under Erdogan’s personalized appointment system, these information asymmetries intersect with political dependence. As a result, the resulting vulnerability is endogenous to the governing architecture: institutions expected to constrain accumulation can instead protect its beneficiaries.

Figure 3 connects ownership, management and inspection within a shared appointment network. Erdogan’s Turkey Wealth Fund chairmanship, Erisah Arican’s overlapping leadership, Mahmut Kayacik’s TVF–Takasbank responsibilities and Yunus Arinci’s move from the State Supervisory Council to Takasbank weaken institutional separation. Salih Tanrikulu’s former Borsa Istanbul role adds retrospective self-review risk. The principal–agent problem becomes acute when citizens’ monitors answer to the political network whose decisions require investigation.

Figure 4 examines delegated stewardship through Kilimci’s Tera roles, Çakmak’s management of insurance and pension assets, and Şener’s separate Interbank Card Center procurement (BKM) proceedings. The latest developments sharpen Çakmak’s conflict-of-interest dimension: after resigning on 15 October, he was remanded in custody on 24 October. Reported allegations include receiving US$1 million in cash for directing institutional resources into Tera funds; further reporting describes personal share transactions tied to institutional placements. His reported repayment of investment-related proceeds neither establishes the amount misappropriated nor resolves responsibility.

Iskender Balci, son of former banking regulator Mustafa Balci and son-in-law of Deputy Finance Minister Osman Celik, held company oversight roles at Ozata Denizcilik and DOF Robotik before his detention. Celik submitted his retirement request on October 19. Administrative departure leaves the central question unresolved: whether licensing, appointments and supervision were insulated from family interests through disclosure and recusal.

The Sayan family illustrates institutional mobility across politics, regulation and diplomacy. Ramazan Sayan, described in contemporary reporting as Erdogan’s longstanding associate, is the father of four siblings. Fatma Betul Sayan Kaya progressed through advisory work, Parliament, cabinet and party leadership. Omer Fatih Sayan moved through Prime Ministry advisory posts, BTK leadership, a deputy ministership and Turk Telekom board leadership before joining EPDK. Ayse Hilal Sayan Koytak advanced through ministerial and diplomatic appointments, including ambassadorships in Kuwait, Bahrain and Finland; Nazmiye Sumeyye Sayan served on Istanbul’s metropolitan council. Together, these trajectories warrant scrutiny of merit, access and appointment criteria.

The financial question is more specific. Reuters reported allegations concerning approximately TRY2.17 billion in combined share-sale proceeds received by Sayan Kaya and her husband before the turmoil. Whether Takasbank-supported liquidity facilitated their exits requires transaction-level evidence. Sale proceeds cannot be treated as profits, and institutional liquidity support alone does not establish preferential treatment.

Mustafa Yazici, son of senior AKP official and former minister Hayati Yazici, introduces distressed-debt collection into this network. The imposition and subsequent lifting of asset restrictions require transparent explanation. His company, Adil Varlik Yönetim, purchases non-performing receivables. Corporate records document a TRY450 million conversion of shareholder receivables into capital, but not their ultimate funding source. A TRY500 million financing bill arranged by Tera Yatirim subsequently generated an MKK non-payment notice. The intersection of connected financing and debt collection merits investigation; borrower complaints alone do not establish unlawful interest charges.

BTK belongs within the accountability analysis because restrictions on online reporting deepen information asymmetry. Reported blocking concerning Batuhan Mumcu and his wife requires examination of judicial orders, requests and implementation. Mumcu joined BTK’s board in August 2026; his wife, Neslihan Mumcu, appears in corporate disclosures concerning Bulls Yatırım Holding. Some reported restrictions predated his appointment; attributing them to his personal intervention would require additional evidence.

Figure 6 places SPK at the center. Ibrahim Omer Gonul, son of former Defense Minister Vecdi Gonul, moved from SPK chairmanship to KGK before being removed on October 20 alongside SPK chair Mahmut Sutcu. Sutcu had submitted his resignation the previous day. Tezmen’s former MKK role and Murat Onuk’s overlapping portfolio-management and Takasbank responsibilities further complicate independent oversight. Personnel changes leave earlier decisions and the executive’s appointment powers requiring scrutiny.

Reports that two SPK officials opposed Tera Yatirim’s flotation, were subsequently replaced, and that the reconstituted board approved the IPO two months later reveal how presidential appointment power can override institutional resistance. In Erdogan’s centralized system, replacing officials changes more than personnel: it reshapes the boundaries of permissible professional judgment. The sequence illustrates a principal–agent inversion in which regulators become accountable upwards to the appointing authority rather than outwards to investors and the public. Repeated failures to investigate politically protected conduct reinforce expectations of impunity, weaken deterrence, and make compliance with political preferences less costly than resistance. Subsequent dismissals cannot resolve this institutional responsibility: accountability must reach the authority that selected supervisors, enabled contested approvals and sustained the system of protection. 

An inquiry must follow beneficial ownership and funding at entry; concentration, related-party transactions and valuation during investment; and information, financing and redemption terms at exit. Early withdrawal alone proves no insider dealing, but withdrawals above realizable asset values can shift shortfalls to remaining investors. Appointment records, supervisory correspondence, access logs and transaction trails are therefore indispensable.

In terms of an ex-post solution, the October 1 SPK announcement provided interim payments of up to TRY1 million per investor per fund for funds founded by four managers. Another announcement addressed liquidation and possible reopening for the other three, while voluntary-return accounts were established for excessive gains. Relief can reduce immediate hardship; it does not demonstrate that the institutional causes have been corrected or establish final recoveries and immunity from prosecution.

On October 6, the SPK disputed the claim of 130 ignored warnings and cited 96 criminal referrals concerning fund transactions in 2026. On October 4, it rejected claims that protection of the Investor Compensation Center’s assets originated in July 2026, citing earlier provisions. Independent review must test these defenses against dated records: aggregate enforcement activity cannot answer whether particular warnings were handled adequately.

The political feedback mechanism is crucial here: economic deterioration threatens consent; legal and administrative pressure limits the conversion of grievance into organized opposition; weaker scrutiny protects the allocation system that generated the damage. Widespread arrests and dismissals, and media censorship, show that intervention under pressure narrows scrutiny precisely when it is most necessary. An inquiry controlled by the same appointment network cannot resolve this problem without independent experts, parliamentary authority and enforceable access to records.

Conclusion

Turkey’s fund crisis is an endogenous outcome of the governing order Erdogan has constructed. Discretionary economic policy creates vulnerabilities; politically dependent institutions suppress corrective scrutiny; privileged access enables selective enrichment while losses reach ordinary investors and public balance sheets. Repeated scandals reflect the cumulative consequences of institutional choices that subordinate professional judgement to presidential authority and weaken deterrence through expectations of protection. Populist appeals to sovereignty, national distinctiveness and religious obligation legitimize this discretion, while restrictions on journalism and opposition obstruct scrutiny of its consequences.

Financial repair must therefore accompany a redistribution of institutional authority. Immediate priorities include independently verified valuations, disclosure of related-party exposures, preservation of supervisory and transaction records, and recovery from those responsible. Any public support must identify its beneficiaries, legal basis and recovery strategy. Protecting vulnerable investors requires preventing further transfers of private losses to society.

Durable recovery, however, requires constraints on the executive itself. Independent courts, effective parliamentary oversight, merit-based appointments and protection for professional disagreement must replace supervision organized around political loyalty. Regulators, auditors and market infrastructure need genuinely independent cross-checks, supported by investigative journalism, academic freedom and competitive opposition. Accountability must follow appointment and decision chains wherever they lead, including into the presidency.

The fund crisis ultimately exposes how Erdogan’s governing order converts public authority into selective private advantage while shielding its beneficiaries from independent scrutiny. Gains sustain politically connected networks; losses fall on investors, wider society and future generations. Breaking this pattern requires restoring the rule of law and subjecting presidential authority to effective institutional checks. Otherwise, replacing officials and prosecuting selected actors leaves intact the structure that enables extraction, protects privilege and reproduces impunity.

Erdogan’s responses to successive crises suggest that meaningful reform from within this governing order is increasingly implausible. The recurrent protection of connected interests supports a political-economic interpretation of corruption as a means of financing and consolidating his regime-building project. As implicated networks expand, independent accountability threatens both their accumulated advantages and the political authority that sustains them, deepening resistance to reform. Expecting Erdogan to dismantle these arrangements therefore overlooks their role in his political survival. Institutional reconstruction requires a democratic reconfiguration of power that can investigate the presidency itself.

Professor Jacob Mchangama.

Prof. Mchangama: Liberal Institutions Are Becoming Increasingly Illiberal in Their Attempts to Fight Populism

In an in-depth interview with the ECPS, Professor Jacob Mchangama warns that liberal institutions are becoming “increasingly illiberal” in their efforts to combat populism and disinformation. Examining electoral censorship in Brazil, Germany’s militant democracy, and the EU’s Digital Services Act, he argues that restrictive speech policies risk undermining democratic legitimacy while strengthening authoritarian forces. Emphasizing the democratic significance of independent digital media, particularly in Hungary, he cautions that “imposing government control is ultimately a cure worse than the disease.” Professor Mchangama also examines the dangers of AI-driven censorship, selective free-speech advocacy, and declining institutional trust, advocating decentralization, transparency, and user empowerment as alternatives to increasingly technocratic approaches to regulating the democratic public sphere.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

At a time when democratic institutions confront populism, disinformation, political censorship, and the growing influence of artificial intelligence and technology giants, freedom of expression has become both a cornerstone of democratic resilience and a deeply contested principle. Brazil’s presidential election and the US midterms offer particularly revealing examples of these tensions. Across liberal democracies, efforts to counter extremist mobilization and digital disinformation raise an increasingly urgent question: Can democracy be protected through restrictions on the very freedoms that sustain it?

In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Jacob Mchangama, Executive Director of The Future of Free Speech, Research Professor at Vanderbilt University, Senior Fellow at the Foundation for Individual Rights and Expression (FIRE), and author of Free Speech: A History from Socrates to Social Media, examines this paradox. His central concern is that the erosion of public trust has prompted liberal institutions to adopt increasingly illiberal responses. As he observes, “this collapse of trust has led liberal institutions to become increasingly illiberal, responding to mistrust from the demos with mistrust of the demos.” Such efforts to control political narratives, he warns, create “a vicious cycle that, in the long term, will undermine rather than strengthen democracy.”

Professor Mchangama develops this argument through Brazil’s judicial interventions in electoral expression, Germany’s increasingly restrictive speech legislation, and the European Union’s Digital Services Act (DSA). Questioning the effectiveness of Europe’s militant democracy model, he invokes the Weimar Republic’s historical experience, when emergency powers intended to safeguard democratic institutions were subsequently exploited by the Nazis. His conclusion is stark: “the very instruments intended to protect democracy were used to abolish it.” For Professor Mchangama, contemporary restrictions risk reproducing this institutional vulnerability, particularly when political forces hostile to liberal pluralism acquire governmental power.

The dangers become especially pronounced in the digital sphere. Reflecting on Hungary’s opposition mobilization through independent online media, Professor Mchangama emphasizes that social platforms remain indispensable instruments of democratic dissent, even when dominated by powerful corporations. Although acknowledging the internet’s toxicity and concentrated ownership, he argues that “imposing government control is ultimately a cure worse than the disease.” Similarly, he cautions that Europe, historically central to developing legal protections for expression, is now “creating the blueprint for online censorship,” potentially legitimizing authoritarian restrictions elsewhere.

Beyond censorship, the interview explores artificial intelligence, decentralized factchecking, governmental transparency, and the democratic potential of digital participation. Professor Mchangama distinguishes user empowerment from preemptive safetyism, warning against transforming AI governance into preventive ideological gatekeeping. Ultimately, drawing inspiration from Frederick Douglass, he insists that freedom of expression protects listeners as well as speakers. His overarching democratic principle is unequivocal: “You’re not going to strengthen democracy by hiding that reality.”

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

Democracies Must Rebuild Trust Instead of Trying to Control the Political Narrative

Luís Inácio Lula da Silva and former President Bolsonaro participate in the debate over Brazil in Sao Paulo on October 16, 2022. Photo: Isaac Fontana.

Professor Mchangama, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with your essay on Brazil and the dangers of combating populism through censorship. In your essay, “Don’t Resort to Censorship to Fight Populism,” you argue that censorship can undermine the democracy it claims to protect. With Brazil heading into its October 25 presidential runoff between Lula da Silva and Flávio Bolsonaro, how should democratic institutions confront disinformation and anti-democratic mobilization without restricting legitimate political debate?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That’s a big question. I don’t think anyone has a perfect formula or algorithm, partly because the definition of populism is itself contested, as is the extent to which populism represents a legitimate response to institutions that have failed to address the needs of their populations.

But I think one of the structural problems in many democracies is a collapse of trust—in political systems, elite institutions, and so on. I believe this collapse of trust has led liberal institutions to become increasingly illiberal, responding to mistrust from the demos with mistrust of the demos. In other words, they attempt to control the narrative through increasingly restrictive measures on speech.

This creates a vicious cycle that, in the long term, will undermine rather than strengthen democracy, especially liberal democracy, which is inconceivable without free speech and access to information as central pillars.

So, rather than focusing on technocratic, top-down decisions about how to manage the public sphere, I would focus on examining how governance should function in a digital-age democracy. How can we create modes of governance that cultivate trust? That would be my starting point. For trust to exist, the populace must have the ability to criticize the government and have transparency into how the government operates.

Democratic Institutions Must Punish Attacks on Democracy Without Criminalizing Political Expression

You have criticized Justice Alexandre de Moraes for concentrating extraordinary powers over online political expression. Given Brazil’s continuing judicial interventions in election-related content, where should the boundary lie between protecting electoral integrity and allowing unelected judges to determine the limits of political speech?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: Let me make it easy for myself. When Bolsonaro supporters attack democratic institutions in Brasília, in a sort of rerun of the January 6th attack on the Capitol in the US, that’s obviously not protected speech. The government and authorities must stand firm, not only to prevent such actions but also to punish those who try to stop the peaceful transfer of power in a democracy. That is absolutely unacceptable and should be punished.

But there’s a tendency to argue that spreading what is labeled disinformation leads to such events and that, therefore, we have to crack down on it. The interesting thing is that, in Brazil, the fake news investigation started in 2019, well before the events in Brasília. To me, that suggests that these interventions do not necessarily work and can actually help fuel the narrative of populist forces that view elite institutions as rigging the game.

Of course, the way de Moraes and other Brazilian judges have wielded their powers is anathema to any liberal democratic conception of free speech, even if you agree, as some do, that there was a need to crack down on fake news, however you define it. Giving a judge the power to act essentially as legislator, prosecutor, and judge all in one is simply not compatible with liberal democratic institutions.

I also think the way things have played out has shown that this was not a wise move and that Brazilian judges themselves are not beyond reproach. The 2019 fake news investigations came after reports alleging the judiciary’s involvement in the Car Wash scandal. That, in and of itself, is unlikely to increase trust in the judiciary as an impartial actor in Brazilian politics.

Unequal Content Moderation Does Not Necessarily Mean Political Discrimination

Social Media

Brazil’s Superior Electoral Court has ordered Meta to ensure equal treatment of Lula and Flávio Bolsonaro amid allegations of algorithmic bias and unequal content moderation. Can courts realistically guarantee a level electoral playing field without becoming arbiters of political visibility and editorial discretion?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That should certainly be the goal. The problem is how to define equal protection and ensure it. Let’s say Meta has its own policies and ways of enforcing them. If one side of the political debate is more likely to violate, for instance, rules on hate speech, then the fact that more content from that side is removed is not necessarily evidence of unequal treatment.

Of course, if you can demonstrate that platforms have an ideological bias and systematically favor one side over the other, that can be problematic. But how do you define such bias, and how do you ensure that the assessment is not based merely on cherry-picked examples? That is an issue.

You also have to take into account the larger media ecosystem. What if one side of a political debate has much better access to traditional media than the other? Then it becomes a broader question of how to ensure an equal playing field.

But the very detailed interventions that the Electoral Court has made in Brazilian politics also affect speech that, at least in my interpretation, constitutes core political expression. Accusing a political candidate of holding certain positions, for example, may sometimes involve exaggeration, but that is a core component of political speech.

Let’s say someone in Hungary accused Viktor Orbán of being a dictator, and a Hungarian electoral court responded, “No, no, you can’t say that because there’s no evidence that Viktor Orbán has ever said he wants to be a dictator, and therefore you have to remove it.” I think most people would say, “Well, that’s outrageous,” because expressing the view that Viktor Orbán is moving toward becoming a dictator in Hungary is a political opinion.

Blanket Restrictions on AI-Generated Political Content Will Mainly Restrict Free Speech

Brazil’s 2026 electoral rules restrict certain AI-generated political content, while recent judicial decisions have required campaign-related material to be removed. Could such interventions unintentionally strengthen populist narratives of persecution? What less restrictive alternatives would better protect electoral integrity?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: As I understand it—and I don’t follow Brazilian politics that closely, since I’m mostly an expert on international human rights and free-speech standards—it seems that these interventions have strengthened populist narratives during the last elections. So, this is one of those situations where such measures can backfire.

I’m also not that afraid of AI-generated content. I remember that, prior to the 2024 global elections, with 2024 being a super election year and around 2 billion people eligible to vote worldwide, there were a lot of dire warnings. The World Economic Forum said that AI-generated deepfakes or disinformation were the largest short-term threat to humanity. There were also breathless warnings from politicians and the media about democracy drowning in deepfakes.

Yet forensic analyses conducted afterward showed that, while there was a lot of AI-generated information, including deepfakes, these had very little impact on election outcomes. In some cases, such as India, AI could even be used by candidates to communicate in other languages, thereby reaching different groups with their political messages.

So, I’m not convinced that deepfakes and AI-generated content online represent an existential threat to the democratic process. That doesn’t mean there can’t be problematic instances. Imagine, for example, someone leaking an audio deepfake of a candidate on election day that purports to show the candidate involved in corruption. In such cases, it could certainly be a problem.

But in general, blanket rules—very elaborate requirements to label or remove AI-generated content—will mainly restrict a lot of speech because this is simply how modern political communication works. Most people who are online will use AI to generate text and create memes, GIFs, and short videos. All of these have a strong expressive element, conveying particular political opinions, whether through satire or otherwise.

Imagine, here in the United States, if all AI-generated criticism of President Trump had to be removed or labeled as such. Whenever I scroll through my feeds, I see lots of memes and videos mocking and criticizing Trump. That’s simply part of how we communicate today, and I don’t think it’s problematic in and of itself.

The Trump Administration Has Demonstrated a Deep Level of Hypocrisy on Free Speech

US President Donald Trump at a rally for then-VP nominee J.D. Vance in Atlanta, GA, on August 3, 2024. Photo: Phil Mistry.

You have highlighted the contradiction between the Trump administration’s criticism of censorship abroad and its treatment of domestic critics. With a federal court recently blocking restrictions on White House access for CNN, MS NOW, and Politico journalists, has freedom of speech become an increasingly selective political principle rather than a universal democratic commitment?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: Free speech has always been unevenly enforced, but I don’t think there has been a US administration as hostile to free speech as the Trump administration since perhaps the Second Red Scare. Reuters reported in August that the Trump administration had lost around 75 cases in federal courts on First Amendment grounds—that is, involving free-speech restrictions—during Trump’s second term. That’s much, much higher than the number lost by the Biden administration during a comparable period.

This is quite instructive in many ways. First, it reveals a deep level of hypocrisy. We remember J.D. Vance traveling to Munich and criticizing European democracies for restricting speech. He had a point. But when he subsequently traveled to Hungary to support Viktor Orbán without saying a word about the systematic ways in which the Orbán government has restricted the media and protests, shut down universities, tried to intimidate civil society, and banned LGBT protests and content, that demonstrated a high degree of hypocrisy.

The Trump administration has also tried to deport foreign citizens for engaging in political speech that is otherwise constitutionally protected. It has nothing to say about Russian authoritarianism but criticizes Zelensky for not holding elections, and so on. The list is very long. But—and this is the important thing—this is where I get really frustrated with those in liberal democracies who view speech as problematic and are increasingly willing to restrict free speech in order to counter populism.

First, the First Amendment in the United States has been a very powerful roadblock against the Trump administration’s attempts to punish its critics. If constitutional protections for free speech in the United States were equivalent to those in Germany, Trump could have steamrolled many of his critics simply because they insulted him or wrote something critical about him on social media, as is actually happening in Germany.

Second, this shows that when populist politicians come to power, they are absolutely going to restrict their opponents’ free speech. So, if those who claim to be liberal democrats and supporters of democracy essentially create tools that those who are not liberal democrats can use to undermine free speech, pluralism, and so on, they will be playing into the hands of those governments.

But there is a complete denial of this, especially in Europe. If you look at statements from the Commission or from Macron, Merz, or Sánchez, they essentially portray free speech, especially online speech, as an existential danger to liberal democracies, which is hugely misguided.

I mean, what will you do if Le Pen or AfD comes to power with all these speech restrictions that you have adopted or proposed? It will then become very difficult to claim, “No, this goes too far. These speech-restrictive tools were only meant to be used by us because we are on the right side.” I don’t think that’s credible. That’s not something that will convince those parts of the population who have lost faith in traditional political parties and are tempted by more populist politicians.

Free Speech Alone Cannot Save Democracy, but Without It There Can Be No Democracy

As the United States approaches its November 3 midterm elections, disputes over media access, political advertising rules, and federal regulatory power have intensified. How effectively can First Amendment protections prevent political leaders from using governmental authority to disadvantage critical media and electoral opponents?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: Quite effectively so far, as we’ve seen. I just mentioned the 75 cases, and there have been more since. We also have a number of cases in which courts have found in favor of media outlets targeted by the Trump administration.

The First Amendment is a critical component of that, but it’s not enough. Free speech is an absolutely vital component of liberal democracy, but free speech in and of itself is not going to save democracy. Without it, however, there can be no democracy. Obviously, there are many other components that are needed.

I opened by talking about trust. That’s part of the secret sauce of successful, thriving liberal democracies. But how do you legislate trust? Many factors go into creating societies with a high degree of trust. You can’t simply have a majority in Parliament adopt a law declaring that there will be high trust and expect trust to emerge once that law is passed. That’s not how democracy works.

I also think transparency is important. We rightly talk a lot about the need for transparency in big tech platforms, but there’s much less discussion of, and willingness to ensure, transparency in government. A higher degree of transparency in government decision-making is likely to increase trust.

I also think there are ways we can use digital tools to bring democratic decision-making much closer to people and involve them directly. You can have these alignment assemblies, for instance, where local decisions could be informed or even decided upon by people, alongside technological solutions that optimize for agreement rather than outrage among citizens.

Suddenly, you might find that all the disagreement you see online does not necessarily reflect reality and that people actually share far more positions than those that divide them. I think approaches like these are much more likely to be fruitful for liberal democracies than the DSA (Digital Services Act), laws against deepfakes, or similar measures that treat symptoms and where the cure can be worse than the disease.

Younger Generations and Declining Support for Free Speech

Social Media
Photo: Sujin Surakoon / Dreamstime.

Your research documents declining support among younger Americans for controversial and offensive expression. How do you explain this reversal of the free-speech activism historically associated with younger generations? Does it reflect changing understandings of equality, polarization, or a deeper weakening of democratic pluralism?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That’s a really good question. There are probably a number of contributing factors, although I’m speculating here because I’m not a social scientist and can’t give you a peer-reviewed response. But I suspect several issues are at play.

First, younger generations have taken free speech for granted. It’s been a very long time since people in Western democracies really had to fight for free speech. They don’t remember an era when free speech was threatened by movements. That’s one factor.

Another might be the fact that younger generations have grown up with social media and the internet, where speech is ubiquitous, cheap, and often not very pleasant. As a result, they view the balance between the harms and benefits of free speech differently from previous generations. They encounter a lot of speech they consider hateful, bullying, or otherwise harmful. So they may not appreciate the value of free speech in the same way as older generations because it has always been everywhere, and they’re essentially marinating in it.

Then there’s another viewpoint, which I see quite often in the United States: the idea that free speech and equal dignity are values in tension, or perhaps even mutually exclusive. Yet the views of the Civil Rights Movement in the 1950s, 1960s, and 1970s, which were also reflected in landmark Supreme Court decisions on the First Amendment, were very much the opposite. Free speech and equality were understood as mutually reinforcing values. Free speech was considered essential to the full and equal protection of the rights of persecuted minorities.

Today, however, you’re much more likely to encounter groups fighting for minority rights that are suspicious of free speech, arguing that their equality depends on the government and social media companies restricting their opponents’ views.

These are some of the factors that may be contributing to this development. But again, this is a hypothesis.

Government Control of Online Speech Is Ultimately a Cure Worse Than the Disease

With Elon Musk and Mark Zuckerberg exercising enormous influence over political visibility through X, Facebook, and Instagram, have technology billionaires become unelected gatekeepers of democratic debate? How can democracies prevent private concentrations of communicative power without inviting government censorship?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: To a certain extent, they have. Content moderation decisions by big tech platforms have an outsized impact on the practical exercise of free speech in many countries around the world. In that sense, they wield power in ways that can pose real challenges, which is why I think we would be better served by a more decentralized social media ecosystem.

On the other hand, it’s also true that someone like Elon Musk has very directly aligned himself with Trump and the Republicans. But if you go on X, you can find plenty of criticism of Trump and the Republicans. The same is true of Meta platforms. So it’s not as though these platforms are completely one-sided, and I still think they’re essential for mobilizing protests.

Again, I think it would be dangerous to regulate online speech. I keep coming back to Hungary because the opposition’s victory in April, after 16 years of Orbán’s rule, demonstrated something very profound about the power of online speech.

Hungary was a country where Orbán controlled perhaps 80% of the media and 90% of government advertising revenue for the media, had banned universities, weaponized laws against civil society and the opposition, banned protests, and so on. In theory, it should have been impossible for him to lose the election.

But what you saw was a small group of independent online outlets that held the government accountable, exposed corruption scandals, and so on. In fact, Péter Magyar’s political career was launched on Partizán, a YouTube channel that quickly attracted millions of views in a country of 10 million people.

There are several reasons why Orbán lost, but I think it would have been very difficult for the opposition to mobilize and get its message out without the internet and social media. That’s one of the differences between Hungary and Russia, where Putin is very much aware that controlling broadcast media, newspapers, and other traditional media is not enough. He also has to control the online sphere because, without that control, the opposition can organize protests, establish small, nimble online media outlets, spread satire and mockery, and so on.

So, even though the internet can be a toxic place, and even though it would be better to have more, smaller social media platforms, imposing government control is ultimately a cure worse than the disease.

Decentralized Fact-Checking Can Build More Trust Than Decisions Made by a Small Group of Gatekeepers

Illustration by Ulker Design.

You welcomed aspects of Meta’s transition from third-party factchecking to community-based moderation while warning against political accommodation. In light of Brazil’s current dispute with Meta over alleged algorithmic discrimination, how can we distinguish genuine commitments to free expression from politically convenient changes in platform governance?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That’s a good question. Again, I don’t think we should expect private tech platforms to have a consistent and principled commitment to free speech. Ultimately, they are concerned about their bottom line and are likely to be influenced by a number of factors, including political interference.

It’s interesting that, in Brazil, Lula’s account was suspended for around an hour, which is obviously outrageous. But we also have to remember that Lula’s government threatened to ban entire platforms in the country because of criticism of a fake news law.

This goes to the heart of the problem with political regulation. On the one hand, yes, it’s bad that Lula’s account was suspended during an election. But if, at the same time, you are a government willing to shut down entire platforms, thereby affecting the right to free speech and access to information across the entire country, that suggests you’re not really concerned about an underlying principle. You’re perhaps more concerned about your own ability to reach voters.

This is why I think a more decentralized model works better. Community Notes and crowdsourced factchecking contribute to that model because they allow ordinary people to take a more organic, bottom-up approach, rather than concentrating power in platforms that governments can then pressure.

There was a very strong example of Community Notes following the killing of Alex Pretti by Border Patrol agents during ICE protests in Minnesota in January of this year. Senior public officials in the Trump administration quickly called Alex Pretti a domestic terrorist and claimed he had pulled a gun, and so on.

But there were many people on the streets with smartphones who were livestreaming the events, providing extensive documentation that disproved the administration’s narrative. Very quickly, senior officials, including FBI Director Kash Patel, Stephen Miller, and Kristi Noem, had Community Notes added to their statements.

In other words, on X, a platform that is normally quite friendly to the Trump administration, people were fact-checking the American government in real time. That’s quite powerful and demonstrates some of the benefits of a bottom-up approach.

Now, does that mean Community Notes will save democracy? Obviously not. But the underlying model is preferable to relying on dedicated factcheckers. Of course, factchecking remains important, and many Community Notes will be based on the work of journalists, factcheckers, and so on.

But the model of a bridging algorithm, in which a Community Note depends on people with different political perspectives agreeing on its usefulness, is much more likely to instill trust and acceptance than having a small group of third-party factcheckers make the decisions.

We Must Choose User Empowerment Over Preemptive Safetyism in AI

Your research has documented how leading AI chatbots sometimes refuse to generate lawful but controversial political content. As generative AI increasingly shapes political information and public debate, could these systems become invisible ideological gatekeepers? What would politically neutral AI governance require in practice?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: Yes, that’s absolutely a danger, and it’s already happening. This is not science fiction. China is a very good example. It has detailed rules requiring AI companies to comply with so-called core socialist values, which are set out in various decrees. Essentially, this means that AI companies must respect the red lines of the Chinese Communist Party under Xi Jinping, and those red lines are very strict.

This is why, even though China releases high-quality open-source models, you’ll see these models refusing to answer questions about Taiwan, Tiananmen Square, and so on. As generative AI becomes the interface to the wider ecosystem of information and ideas, government control or filtering would have an outsized impact not only on free speech and freedom of information but potentially even on freedom of thought, because AI is also part of search, word processing, and so on.

The dangers here are very real. There are also risks associated with market concentration. Let’s say Google, OpenAI, and Anthropic collectively control 80% of the market. The decisions and filtering practices of these companies would then have an outsized impact on the practical exercise of free speech, access to information, and potentially even freedom of thought. This is one of the reasons why I think open-source models are important.

Right now, there’s a lot of discussion about AI regulation, which is an important discussion to have. I’m not against regulating AI when it comes to catastrophic risks. We all have, as human beings, a vested interest in mitigating the risk of AI models facilitating the creation of biological weapons by terrorist groups or unleashing devastating cyberattacks that could shut down hospitals or financial systems on a national or global scale. That is absolutely crucial.

What I would warn against is treating disinformation, hate speech, and so on as critical or existential risks. These are not the kinds of things that should be regulated in the same way. AI is also different from social media. If you post something on your social media account, it’s visible to the entire world. But if you have a conversation with a large language model (LLM), you’re essentially having an iterative discussion.

In countries with hate speech laws, you can argue that if someone publishes hateful content on social media, making it visible to the whole world, the rules against hate speech should apply, whether you think those rules are wise in the first place or not. The same applies if someone threatens another person or incites violence on social media.

But you should be able to have a discussion with an LLM. Let’s say you’re interested in the rise of Nazism in Germany. You should absolutely be able to have a conversation with an LLM in which it shows you the rhetoric of the National Socialist Party in Germany or examples of antisemitism that would violate hate speech laws if you published them yourself.

If governments say, “No, we can’t allow AI models to generate hateful content or disinformation because it might potentially be used for nefarious purposes,” then that defeats the purpose of these powerful models. It undermines their potential to act as an exoskeleton of the mind. They can really help you if you use them properly and don’t outsource your brain to them. They can teach you a great deal, and you should be allowed to engage in difficult, controversial discussions and access difficult, controversial content online.

So, I distinguish between what I call user empowerment and preemptive safetyism. Preemptive safetyism can essentially be compared to the way pre-publication censorship was used to control the printing press. Churches and monarchs believed that the printing press was too dangerous. They thought, “If you allow pamphlets to be written that undermine religion or the rule of a monarch, everything will go to hell. Therefore, we have to ensure that everything printed has been vetted before it is circulated to the population.”

We’ve moved away from that model in most democracies. Now, you generally face potential liability only after the fact, once you’ve published or said something.

We need to take the same approach to AI. I might be able to write something or obtain information that could be hateful or otherwise controversial, but only if I use it—if I publish it afterward—should I potentially be held liable, rather than the model itself.

If you adopt that preemptive safetyism approach and try to filter models to avoid potential risks down the line, outside of catastrophic risks, that would be very detrimental to free speech.

Democracies Need Narrow, Targeted Rules Against Electoral Deception

EU-AI
The European Union’s AI Act introduces restrictions on high-risk artificial intelligence applications and requires greater transparency from companies regarding data use and algorithmic practices. Photo: Dreamstime.

In Brazil, electoral authorities have imposed restrictions on synthetic campaign material, while the United States is debating AI-generated political robocalls ahead of its midterms. Where should democracies draw the line between preventing electoral deception and protecting lawful AI-assisted political expression?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: You need to draw very narrow, targeted lines. Consider, for example, robocalls. If a political campaign creates robocalls targeting people in areas where they know their opponents are strongest, falsely claiming that “the election has been canceled” just before election day, that’s something you would want to prevent, and those responsible should face potential legal liability because it’s a direct attempt at voter suppression.

But if you use robocalls to criticize your opponent, employing hyperbole or calling them a dictator or corrupt, I don’t think that should be regulated. So, my approach would be to establish very narrow, targeted rules governing such practices.

The Very Instruments Intended to Protect Democracy Can Be Used to Abolish It

You have questioned whether Germany’s restrictions on hate speech and extremist expression have effectively contained the far right. With the AfD challenging established political boundaries, does Europe’s concept of militant democracy risk empowering the very authoritarian forces it seeks to restrain?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: Yes, I think it does. It’s very interesting. If you look at the German domestic intelligence service, it publishes very detailed reports on political extremists, both on the right and the left, as well as on religious groups. What you’ll see is that, for a decade or so, there has been a constant rise in political extremism and often in political violence, including from the far right.

This has occurred during a period when Germany has introduced increasingly restrictive laws on speech. There was the Network Enforcement Act in 2017, which required social media companies to remove manifestly illegal content or risk fines of up to 50 million euros. There have also been laws expanding restrictions on hate speech and laws specifically protecting politicians against insults. Enforcement has intensified, including raids against people who have written something illegal. There has also been a crackdown since October 7th, and so on.

But none of these initiatives seems to have helped. You can see this in important state and regional elections in Germany, where the AfD has won victories, as well as in the polls and the collapsing support for traditional political parties.

Yet every time, especially in Germany, the response seems to be that we need to do more to restrict these political parties’ ability to speak out. Proposals range from banning the AfD and online anonymity to a recent proposal requiring 20% of algorithmic feeds to consist of approved media.

This is a very top-down, technocratic attempt to address collapsing trust in democratic institutions and mainstream political parties, which is likely to make things worse rather than better. There’s a historical irony here. We all understand why Germany wants, at all costs, to avoid a repeat of a political party coming to power and destroying democracy.

But during the Weimar Republic, there was a move toward increasingly restricting speech and adopting emergency laws that could ban fake news and shut down newspapers. Ultimately, when the Nazis came to power, they used some of these emergency laws, including provisions of the constitution itself that allowed the president to suspend all civil liberties, including freedom of expression.

So the very instruments intended to protect democracy were used to abolish it. That’s why I don’t have much faith in the militant democracy model that has gained the upper hand in Europe. I don’t think there’s a strong historical basis for assuming that it will work.

That doesn’t mean that simply introducing First Amendment-style protections in Europe would cause populists to wither away or guarantee that liberal democracy would always prevail. But such protections would serve as a stronger bulwark than the current trajectory, which treats free speech, especially online free speech, as a kind of Trojan horse that allows democracy’s enemies, both internal and external, to undermine it.

Europe Is Now Creating a Blueprint for Online Censorship

Photo: Andrey Popov.

You have warned that the EU’s Digital Services Act and related regulatory approaches may encourage excessive content removal and provide authoritarian governments with models for controlling online expression. How can Europe counter disinformation, protect vulnerable groups, and hold platforms accountable without undermining the free speech it seeks to defend?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: I’ve outlined some ways forward in my previous answers, particularly decentralization, increasing trust, and transparency, which I consider more fruitful measures than the DSA and other initiatives, such as banning Russian disinformation. These initiatives actually demonstrate weakness on Europe’s part rather than strength.

I understand why such measures may sound good as soundbites, but ultimately, Europe is the continent where free speech was developed. This is where the first legal protections of free speech were established, yet Europe has now become a place that is creating the blueprint for online censorship.

I mentioned Germany’s 2017 Network Enforcement Act earlier. Within a couple of years, that law was being invoked by Russia, Belarus, Iran, and dozens of authoritarian states as a justification for their own online censorship models. We’re seeing something similar with the DSA, as other jurisdictions that are not necessarily open democracies use it as a justification.

We’re also seeing that the European Court of Human Rights, for instance, is increasingly failing to extend free-speech protections to online expression. Earlier this year, the Court considered a case from Georgia involving a food courier who had insulted the mayor of Tbilisi, Kakha Kaladze. Football fans will recognize his name. He was a very successful AC Milan player who won the Champions League twice and now serves as Tbilisi’s mayor.

The food courier had made some really insulting remarks about him on TikTok and was fined. He took his case to the European Court of Human Rights, which ruled that public officials must be protected against vehement and gratuitous insults. The Court also stated that, because of the massive potential reach of social media platforms, governments should enjoy wider powers to regulate online speech.

This was catastrophic because Georgia is in a much worse position than Hungary under Orbán. You have an embattled opposition and pro-European democracy activists who are being suppressed and persecuted by a Putin-aligned government. That government can then use the case law of the European Court of Human Rights to go after its critics.

In fact, it has recently done so. A journalist was sentenced to 30 days in prison for insulting politicians online. Georgia has also created an Office Against Hate Speech, which is being used quite openly for political purposes to target critics of the current Georgian authoritarian government.

One of the only ways Georgians can still express dissent and organize protests is online, through social media and bottom-up mobilization. Yet those are precisely the mechanisms that Brussels is undermining. This demonstrates the unintended consequences of this model of online militant democracy.

US’s Retreat from Defending Dissidents Will Play into the Hands of Russia and China

In “The Voice of America Falls Silent,” you warn that America’s retreat from supporting independent media and dissidents abroad could strengthen authoritarian information control. As Russia and China promote increasingly sophisticated surveillance and censorship systems, who can defend global free speech if both Washington and Brussels compromise their commitments?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That’s a good question. It’s really sad to see the United States retreating from defending dissidents and free speech globally. J.D. Vance went to Munich and criticized Europe, but then the administration pulled funding for embattled dissidents in authoritarian states who have long been able to do their work thanks to funding from Washington.

It’s ironic that this is happening under a Republican administration, given that the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), for instance, was established by Ronald Reagan, who had a very clear vision of the importance of strengthening and defending democracy around the world.

This is really sad. It will contribute to further eroding the soft power of the United States and the ideals that the country has championed around the world, however imperfectly. It will also definitely play into the hands of Russia, China, and other actors working hard to undermine international norms of human rights and free expression.

Unfortunately, the European Union is not in a good position to fill the void. This is partly because Europe no longer has the same geopolitical clout it once had, but also because it increasingly restricts free speech at home, which undermines its credibility.

It’s difficult to tell other countries that they cannot use laws against disinformation when the European Union itself does so. Even if you view Russian disinformation as a threat, that approach undermines credibility.

So, the responsibility now largely falls to civil society. One of the good things about the digital era is that, with AI, we can create tools that empower dissidents around the world. But at this moment, it’s really up to civil society to strengthen broad institutions that will fight for liberal democracies, including a robust, principled conception of free speech everywhere, and to try to fill the gap as best we can until the free-speech recession has been reversed.

You Are Not Going to Strengthen Democracy by Hiding Uncomfortable Realities

AI, artificial intelligence, and the concept of fake news, misinformation, and disinformation: A man uses his smartphone displaying the red text “Fake News,” surrounded by related keywords. Photo: Dreamstime.

Finally, Professor Mchangama, your book Free Speech: A History from Socrates to Social Media demonstrates how freedom of expression has repeatedly empowered marginalized groups against political authority. In today’s world of authoritarian populism, AI-driven manipulation, concentrated technological power, and selective free-speech advocacy, what principles should guide a genuinely democratic and resilient public sphere?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: We should view free speech and access to information as meta-principles that are essential to liberal democracies. I’m very inspired by the example of embattled minorities, which you mentioned. Perhaps the most underrated, yet one of the most important, champions of free speech was Frederick Douglass, an American orator and abolitionist who was born into slavery but dedicated his career to the fight for human equality.

It’s really incredible to read his speeches and articles spanning four decades because the central thread running throughout his work was the importance of free speech. He was so dedicated to free speech that, during the American Civil War, which was fought over slavery, he defended the right of people to speak out in favor of the Confederacy—in other words, the treasonous rebels who had seceded from the United States to preserve slavery.

He was very clear that the right to free speech is particularly precious to the oppressed. He also said something very profound: restricting free speech is a double wrong because it violates the rights of both the speaker and the listener.

That’s particularly important in our digital age. When you restrict free speech on social media, you don’t just restrict the rights of a particular speaker; you also restrict the broader public’s right to hear ideas that might be uncomfortable, wrong, or constitute disinformation, but that ultimately reflect a reality, however uncomfortable it may be: there are voices out there that don’t share your values and may want something very different.

You’re not going to strengthen democracy by hiding that reality.