This analysis by Yacine Boubia challenges the dominant economic explanations of populism by foregrounding the central role of cultural transformation. Drawing on Ronald Inglehart’s “silent revolution” and the cultural backlash thesis, it argues that immigration has become the most visible and politically charged symbol of broader shifts in identity, values, and social order. Populism, in this account, is not simply a reaction to material deprivation but a response to perceived cultural displacement and status loss. By linking economic disruption with identity-based anxieties, the article demonstrates how immigration functions as a focal point for wider conflicts over belonging, representation, and democratic legitimacy in contemporary Western societies.
The dominant narrative surrounding the rise of populism in Europe and the United States has long been grounded in economics. Globalization, automation, and trade shocks are often said to have produced a class of “left behind” voters who turned to populist leaders out of material deprivation. While this account captures an important dimension of structural change, it ultimately misdiagnoses the core political dynamics at work. Populism is not simply a reaction to economic hardship. It is, more fundamentally, a response to cultural transformation—one in which immigration has become the most visible and politically salient symbol of broader social change.
To understand this shift, it is necessary to return to the long arc of value change identified by Ronald Inglehart. Beginning in the postwar decades, advanced industrial societies underwent what he termed a “silent revolution,” as rising prosperity and educational expansion reshaped public priorities. Survival-oriented values gradually gave way to self-expression, autonomy, and cosmopolitan openness (Inglehart, 1977; Inglehart & Norris, 2019). Over time, these shifts became embedded in institutions, elite discourse, and policy frameworks, particularly within urban, highly educated populations.
Yet this transformation was never evenly distributed. Large segments of the population—often older, less formally educated, and more rooted in national or local traditions—did not merely lag behind this shift; they experienced it as a form of displacement. What appeared to some as progress appeared to others as erosion: of authority, of social cohesion, and of a familiar moral order. The political consequences of this divergence became increasingly visible after the late 1960s, when cultural liberalization accelerated across Western democracies and elite consensus around multiculturalism and individual autonomy solidified.
It is within this context that immigration assumes its central political role. Immigration is not merely one issue among many; it is the issue through which broader cultural transformations are rendered visible, tangible, and politically immediate. Debates over borders, asylum, and integration are simultaneously debates about national identity, social trust, and the pace of cultural change itself. The European migration crisis did not create these tensions, but it crystallized them, transforming diffuse anxieties into direct political conflict across the continent.
The differential reception of refugee populations further illustrates how cultural categorization shapes political responses. The Ukrainian refugee crisis, following Russia’s 2022 invasion, was widely framed in Europe as a conventional interstate war producing displaced populations that were more easily incorporated into existing asylum systems. By contrast, earlier inflows of refugees from Syria and parts of the Middle East were more frequently politicized through debates over long-term integration, welfare capacity, and security concerns. Material conditions alone cannot explain these differences. They reflect processes of perceived cultural proximity, geopolitical framing, and institutional response mechanisms within the European Union.
Scholars of migration and political psychology have long noted that public attitudes toward migration are structured not only by economic calculations but also by perceived cultural distance and social trust. Emmanuel Todd’s recent work, La Défaite de l’Occident (2024), contributes to this discussion by emphasizing that societies interpret geopolitical and demographic change through deeper assumptions about cultural cohesion and civilizational identity. From this perspective, differential refugee reception reflects not simply policy design but underlying social narratives about similarity, belonging, and national self-understanding.
The framework developed by Pippa Norris and Ronald Inglehart captures these dynamics with particular clarity. Their “cultural backlash” thesis argues that support for populist parties is driven less by absolute economic deprivation than by perceived status loss among groups once embedded within dominant cultural hierarchies (Norris & Inglehart, 2019). Immigration, in this context, functions not merely as a policy issue but as a symbolic focal point through which broader anxieties about identity and social change are expressed. It becomes the terrain on which struggles over cultural authority are fought.
The United States exhibits a parallel trajectory. The rise of Donald Trump cannot be fully understood through economic grievance alone. Empirical studies of the 2016 election have consistently shown that attitudes toward immigration, cultural change, and racial identity were among the strongest predictors of support for Trump (Sides et al., 2018). His appeal lay less in policy detail than in his ability to articulate a sense of loss—of border control, national coherence, and institutional trust. Immigration functioned as the central issue through which these concerns were politically mobilized.
This mobilization was amplified by changes in the digital information environment. Scholars of political communication have highlighted how social media platforms and data-driven campaigning enabled more granular targeting of affective and identity-based grievances. While the precise influence of firms such as Cambridge Analytica is debated in the academic literature, broader research on “computational propaganda” and social listening suggests that political actors increasingly adapt messaging to pre-existing online sentiment patterns rather than shaping them from above (Bennett & Livingston, 2018).
None of this implies that economic factors are irrelevant. On the contrary, the structural effects of globalization have played a crucial role in shaping the terrain on which cultural conflict unfolds. Trade exposure, deindustrialization, and regional inequality have increased perceptions of economic insecurity in many Western societies (Autor et al., 2013). However, these economic disruptions do not translate mechanically into political outcomes. Their salience is mediated through cultural interpretation. Economic decline becomes politically consequential when it is embedded within narratives of identity, recognition, and perceived neglect.
In this sense, globalization operates as a force multiplier rather than a primary cause of populism. Communities experiencing economic stagnation are more likely to interpret immigration through lenses of competition and cultural threat, and more likely to view political elites as detached from their lived realities. Populist movements succeed precisely because they fuse economic anxiety with cultural grievance into a single coherent narrative—one that pits “the people” against both external pressures and internal elites (Mudde, 2004).
Across Europe, parties such as the Alternative for Germany (AfD) and the National Rally (RN) in France have institutionalized this synthesis. While differing in national context, these movements share a common structure: opposition to immigration, skepticism toward supranational governance, and a broader critique of liberal elite consensus. Their success underscores the extent to which cultural backlash has become embedded within contemporary political competition.
The policy implications are significant. If populism were driven primarily by economic inequality, then redistribution and growth-oriented policies might be sufficient to mitigate its rise. But if it is rooted in cultural backlash, such measures will prove insufficient on their own. Economic policy cannot resolve conflicts over identity, belonging, and social norms. Nor can these conflicts be dismissed as irrational without further deepening political polarization.
A more realistic approach begins by recognizing that populism emerges from genuine, if conflicting, experiences of social transformation. The “silent revolution” identified by Inglehart has reshaped Western societies in profound ways, but it has also produced new forms of cultural stratification. In the United States, this process was accelerated by the political economy of the 1980s and 1990s, where deregulation and neoliberal convergence under both Republican and Democratic administrations coincided with the rise of cosmopolitan urban centers and multicultural policy frameworks. These developments, reinforced during the Clinton and Obama eras, contributed to a perception among some voters that cultural and institutional change was occurring without adequate democratic mediation.
Immigration, as the most visible manifestation of these broader transformations, will therefore remain central to political conflict in advanced democracies. Understanding populism requires moving beyond the false dichotomy between economics and culture. It is the interaction between structural change and subjective perception that drives political behavior. Until this interplay is fully acknowledged, explanations will remain partial, and policy responses will continue to fall short.
References
Inglehart, R. (1977). The Silent Revolution – Changing Values and Political Styles Among Western Publics, Princeton University Press.
Inglehart, R. & Norris, P. (2019). Cultural Backlash: Trump, Brexit, and Authoritarian Populism, Cambridge University Press.
Autor, D., Dorn, D., & Hanson, G. (2013). “The China Shock: Learning from Labor Market Adjustment to Large Changes in Trade,” ANNUAL REVIEW OF ECONOMICS, Vol. 8:205-240 (Volume publication date October 2016) https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-economics-080315-015041
Sides, J., Tesler, M., & Vavreck, L. (2018). Identity Crisis: The 2016 Presidential Campaign and the Battle for the Meaning of America, Princeton University Press.
Bennett, W. L. & Livingston, S. (2018). “The disinformation order: Disruptive communication and the decline of democratic institutions.” European Journal of Communication, 33(2), 122–139. https://doi.org/10.1177/0267323118760317
Todd, E. (2024). La Défaite de l’Occident, Gallimard.
In an interview with the ECPS, Sheri Berman challenges dominant crisis narratives by arguing that democratic backsliding is “neither unexpected nor, in many cases, recent in origin.” Situating current turbulence within long-term structural and historical trajectories, she emphasizes that democratic instability reflects the enduring difficulty of building and sustaining democratic institutions. Critiquing post–Cold War optimism, she characterizes today’s moment as “a kind of natural correction” to overly teleological expectations. Berman further conceptualizes populism as both symptom and driver of democratic dysfunction, rooted in representation gaps, economic insecurity, and institutional decay—dynamics that continue to reshape both domestic politics and the global liberal order.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Sheri Berman, Professor of Political Science at Barnard College, Columbia University, argues that contemporary democratic erosion should not be understood as an abrupt rupture or an unprecedented crisis, but rather as the outcome of deeper structural, historical, and institutional processes long in the making.
At a time when democratic backsliding, populist mobilization, and institutional erosion are reshaping political landscapes across regions, Professor Berman’s intervention directly challenges prevailing interpretations that frame democracy’s troubles as sudden or exceptional. Instead, she insists that the current conjuncture must be situated within longer-term transformations affecting political representation, institutional trust, and the social foundations of democratic governance. As she puts it, these developments are “neither unexpected nor, in many cases, recent in origin.”
At the center of her argument lies a powerful critique of post–Cold War democratic optimism. The expansion of democracy in the late 20th and early 21st centuries fostered what she identifies as overly teleological assumptions about liberal democracy’s inevitability. Yet, drawing on historical patterns of democratic “waves” and their inevitable reversals, she emphasizes that “building stable, well-functioning democracies is extraordinarily difficult.” What many interpreted as linear progress was, in fact, always vulnerable to reversal. In this sense, today’s turbulence is best understood as “a kind of natural correction” to earlier expectations.
A central analytical contribution of Professor Berman’s framework is her insistence that populism should be understood simultaneously as symptom and driver. It reflects deep dissatisfaction with political institutions and representation—citizens do not support anti-establishment actors unless they believe existing systems are failing them. At the same time, once in power, populists can intensify polarization and further undermine democratic norms. As she notes, while populism begins as “a symptom of democratic dissatisfaction,” it can also “actively deepen the erosion of support for democracy” once it acquires political authority.
This dual perspective is closely tied to her emphasis on structural transformations, particularly the emergence of representation gaps and the long-term consequences of neoliberal economic change. Rising inequality, economic insecurity, and technological disruption—alongside cultural tensions around identity and migration—have combined to produce a multifaceted crisis of democratic legitimacy. Importantly, these forces do not operate in isolation but reinforce one another, generating a political environment marked by both widespread dissatisfaction and a striking absence of coherent ideological alternatives.
Extending her analysis to the global level, Professor Berman offers a sobering assessment of the liberal international order. In one of her most striking remarks, she observes that “the American-led international order, at least for now, is pretty much dead.” Yet even here, she resists simplistic explanations: the disruptive impact of Trumpism, she argues, reflects not only leadership choices but also preexisting structural vulnerabilities within both American democracy and the broader international system.
Taken together, Professor Berman’s reflections offer a historically grounded and analytically nuanced account of democratic decline. Rather than treating the present as an anomaly, her assessments invite a deeper reckoning with the long-term political, economic, and institutional dynamics that have made contemporary democratic backsliding both possible—and, in many respects, predictable.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Sheri Berman, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
From Democratic Waves to Undertows
Two rows of stones embedded in Berlin’s streets mark the former path of the wall dividing East and West Berlin. Photo: Ine Beerten / Dreamstime.
Professor Berman, welcome. In your recently published article “Democracy’s Troubles Should Be No Surprise,” you argue that current democratic backsliding reflects long-term structural and historical dynamics rather than a sudden rupture. In light of ongoing crises, how does this perspective challenge prevailing “crisis narratives” that frame democratic decline as unexpected or recent?
Professor Sheri Berman: I would say that the most obvious way is that these developments are neither unexpected nor, in many cases, recent in origin. Let me begin by differentiating between two types of cases. The first involves backsliding in recently transitioned countries. By this, I mean those that moved from authoritarianism to democracy during what we now refer to as the third wave—that is, the large set of countries that democratized during the late 20th and early 21st centuries. These are relatively recent transitions, meaning that democracy in these contexts is still comparatively young.
Then we have a second set of countries—those with long-standing democracies, including the country I am currently in, which is at the forefront of this not very auspicious group—where we have also seen significant democratic problems, even democratic backsliding.
It is important to distinguish between these two types of cases because the nature and causes of backsliding in recent versus more established democracies differ. However, in neither set of cases should these developments be considered surprising.
Let me explain why. With regard to recent cases, when we look back at history and examine previous democratic waves—such as those following the First and Second World Wars in the 20th century, as well as in Europe in 1848—we see that all of them were followed by undertows. This is precisely why we use the term “wave”: every wave has an undertow, referring to the failure or reversal of some of these new democratic experiments. Thus, the very concept of a wave should have reminded scholars and observers that such reversals are to be expected.
This is not simply a matter of history repeating itself; there is a causal logic at work. Building stable, well-functioning democracies is extraordinarily difficult. While it may seem that the hardest task is removing an authoritarian regime—and that is indeed difficult—it is, in fact, even harder to construct a stable democracy afterward.
We can observe this in the historical record: there are far more examples of democratic transitions than of successful democratic consolidations. Therefore, we should have anticipated that many countries undergoing transitions during the third wave would struggle or fail to consolidate democracy. This should not have come as a surprise.
What is more unusual—and what we were less theoretically and historically prepared for—is the extent of the problems now facing long-established democracies such as the United States. These countries were long considered “consolidated,” a term implying that they were stable and secure. That assumption has proven incorrect.
In my recent article in the Journal of Democracy, I outline some of the reasons for this. I argue that if we had paid closer attention to the social and economic foundations upon which scholars believed democracy rested, we would have seen that these foundations had been eroding for quite some time. As a result, the institutional weaknesses and political dissatisfaction currently affecting long-established democracies should not be regarded as particularly surprising.
Today’s Democratic Turbulence as a Correction, not a Collapse
Your work suggests that earlier waves of democratic optimism—especially after the Cold War—rested on overly teleological assumptions about liberal democracy’s inevitability. To what extent is today’s turbulence, including rising geopolitical conflict and democratic polarization, better understood as a correction of those expectations rather than a systemic breakdown?
Professor Sheri Berman: They are definitely a correction of those earlier, overly optimistic expectations. The advantage of being a scholar is that you get to study both history and contemporary events. Anyone familiar with the history of democracy would have understood, based on previous democratic waves, that the idea that all the countries transitioning in the late 20th and early 21st centuries would, within a generation or two, become something like Sweden was clearly unrealistic.
At the same time, the optimism is understandable. The late 20th century was, in many ways, a remarkable period. In some respects, I wish we were still living in it. It is better to be surrounded by optimism than by pessimism, which is now quite pervasive, particularly across the West. But while that optimism reflected genuine democratic progress and the expansion of freedom and liberty in formerly authoritarian societies, it was also bound to fade.
So, on one level, what we are experiencing today is a kind of natural correction. The specific trajectories—how newer democracies have backslid or how older democracies are encountering difficulties—are hard to predict in detail. But the broader shift away from the extraordinary optimism of the late 20th century—the belief that liberal democracy would not only succeed in the short term but also consolidate over the long term, bringing freedom and prosperity to all parts of the globe, even those not yet reached in that period—was always likely to be followed by significant disappointment. Anyone with a solid understanding of history, and of what it actually takes to make democracy work, should have recognized that.
Populism as Both Symptom and Accelerator of Democratic Decay
Labour Day celebrations at Old Town Square in Prague on May 1, 2017, featuring a banner depicting democracy as a leaf eaten by caterpillars labeled Putin, Kaczyński, Orbán, Babiš, Trump, and Fico. Photo: Jolanta Wojcicka.
You have famously argued that populism is a symptom rather than a cause of democratic dysfunction. In the current conjuncture—marked by inflation, migration pressures, and governance crises—how should scholars distinguish between populism as a reactive phenomenon and as an active driver of democratic erosion?
Professor Sheri Berman: I think populism is both of those things, as you suggest. It is definitely a symptom.At the same time, once populist parties or politicians gain a certain degree of power, they acquire the ability to intensify dissatisfaction, polarization, and related dynamics. Let me unpack that a bit. Populism is a symptom in the sense that people will not vote for anti-establishment parties if they believe the establishment—that is, existing mainstream parties and political institutions—is doing a good job. That is simply a truism.
So, when politicians and parties begin to gain support by criticizing existing parties, politicians, and institutions as corrupt, ineffective, or unrepresentative, they are doing so because a significant portion of the population believes this to be true. In that sense, such parties should be understood as a symptom of dissatisfaction among a not insignificant number of citizens with the establishment and the existing order. They are, as you noted, clear indicators of democratic dysfunction.
However, once these actors begin to gain power—once they have a voice within the system, participate regularly in the political process, and perhaps even enter government or coalitions—they can further deepen this dissatisfaction. The most obvious way they do so, though not the only one, is through rhetoric. By persistently portraying the system as corrupt, demonizing opponents, and framing both rival politicians and voters not merely as people with different policy preferences but as actors opposed to the common good—people who do not have your best interests at heart or who would threaten you if they gained power—they amplify polarization and democratic discontent.
This dynamic operates alongside the policies that populists implement when in power, which, as numerous studies show, are often counterproductive. Thus, while populism originates as a symptom of democratic dissatisfaction, it can also actively deepen the erosion of support for democracy and broaden dissatisfaction once it gains voice and power within the system.
When Mainstream Parties Drift, Populists Fill the Void
How does this “symptom” framework reshape our understanding of the rise of the populist radical right in Europe and Trumpism in the United States, particularly in relation to declining trust in institutions and widening representation gaps?
Professor Sheri Berman: This is another way of getting at the same issue. It is absolutely correct for both scholars and concerned citizens to view populist parties—on both the left and the right—and actors like Trump as drivers of polarization and potential undermining of democratic institutions. However, if we fail to recognize that they are also symptoms of widespread dissatisfaction, frustration, and discontent with existing parties and political institutions, then we will never be able to, so to speak, “solve” the problem of populism.
You mentioned representation gaps, which I and many other scholars have examined closely. If we look at Europe—since this is an ECPS interview—there is no doubt that establishment parties, both center-left and center-right, have developed significant representation gaps, even with their own voters, on key issues. Center-left parties, for instance, moved away from their traditional, broadly defined left-wing economic profile in the late 1990s, which alienated many of their former working-class and otherwise disadvantaged supporters.
At the same time, both center-left and center-right parties drifted away from voters more broadly on a range of social and cultural issues, most notably immigration in the European context. Studies of party positions in the early 21st century show that these parties were often quite distant from the preferences of the median voter on this issue.
As a result, they opened up political space not only for new or challenger parties to advance positions that mainstream parties had effectively abandoned, but also for the perception to take hold that these established parties had lost either the willingness or the capacity to represent voters’ preferences.
Beyond Monocausal Explanations: The Complex Roots of Populism
In your review of populism’s causes, you emphasize the limits of monocausal explanations. In today’s context of digital campaigning, algorithmic amplification, and economic insecurity, how should we conceptualize the interaction between demand-side grievances and supply-side political entrepreneurship?
Professor Sheri Berman: This is a difficult issue, sometimes more so for scholars than for concerned citizens. When people look around today, in what feels like a world of pervasive pessimism, they see a wide range of problems. If you were to ask the proverbial man or woman on the street why Trump has been so popular, or why he was able to get elected twice, they would likely point to broad economic grievances—a sense that the economy is not doing well, that people’s futures are uncertain, and that they are worried about their children’s prospects. They might also point to perceived breakdown and dysfunction in their communities, concerns about illegal immigration and uncontrolled borders, anxieties about tech companies being out of control, and social media “frying” their children’s brains while making everyone more polarized and angrier.
In other words, the average person intuitively understands that multiple factors are contributing to dissatisfaction with the existing order and, in turn, feeding into populism. Scholars, however, tend to look for a single explanatory variable—an independent variable that allows for a clear causal account. The difficulty is that the world we are dealing with is simply too complex for such simplification.
There are clearly many forces driving the current moment, including support for populism and, more broadly, the democratic dissatisfaction and dysfunction we see today. These include significant economic challenges; the serious consequences of rapid demographic change in American and European societies, often—though not exclusively—linked to unprecedented levels of immigration; and, as you noted, technological transformations such as automation, social media, and now AI.
All of these are substantial challenges, and it would be difficult for any party or government to address them effectively. While one can imagine more effective responses than those we have seen, these pressures are nonetheless real and complex. They are shaping the current conjuncture, particularly in the West.
Democratic Erosion as the Product of Both Agency and Structural Decay
Figure from the V-Dem Institute Democracy Report 2026.
Given your skepticism toward rigid structure-versus-agency dichotomies, how can we better theorize elite responsibility in democratic backsliding—especially in cases where political leaders actively challenge electoral norms or judicial independence—without neglecting broader structural transformations?
Professor Sheri Berman: There is absolutely no doubt that we need, as both scholars and citizens, to focus closely on political actors who are playing fast and loose with the democratic rules of the game. If leaders pack or ignore the judiciary, sideline the legislative branch, or undermine the independence of civil society and the media, these are clear causes and drivers of democratic backsliding, and they deserve sustained attention.
Political actors who actively seek to undermine democracy are, therefore, a legitimate focus of scholarly analysis. We need to understand the processes of democratic erosion carried out by populist, illiberal, and anti-democratic politicians and parties. Citizens, too, should remain attentive to these developments, since democracy is what enables societies to function—at least potentially—in a peaceful way, to resolve conflicts, and to address collective challenges.
That said, this is the agency side of the story: the actors who are undermining norms and institutions. But we also need to recognize, as we have discussed, that widespread frustration with establishment parties, political elites, and democratic institutions is equally important. In other words, we need a kind of two-level analysis, recognizing that the actions of populist politicians and parties often represent the final step in a broader causal chain.
Donald Trump, for example, sought political office earlier, in the 2000s and again in 2012, but received virtually no support. He rose to power in 2016 when the broader context had deteriorated, and even then, the damage he caused was more limited compared to what we have seen more recently. The ability of politicians and parties to undermine democracy depends not only on their agency, but also on the strength of the institutions and norms they confront. When those institutions and norms have weakened, actors are able to exercise their agency far more effectively.
We therefore need to understand not only the multi-causal nature of democratic backsliding, but also the broader structure–agency dynamic that underpins political life in general and is especially visible in processes of democratic erosion.
Democratic Collapse Begins Long Before It Becomes Visible
Building on your engagement withHow Democracies Die, how do you assess the relative importance of formal institutional weakening versus the erosion of informal norms—such as mutual toleration—in highly polarized democracies like the United States?
Professor Sheri Berman: That is, in a way, a follow-on question to the previous one. How Democracies Die, the seminal book by Dan Ziblatt and Steve Levitsky, helped both political scientists and concerned citizens understand that we had reached a point where politicians like Donald Trump and others were beginning to undermine norms and institutions in ways that were pushing democracies toward backsliding, or even autocratization.
To my mind, what they were doing—tracing these developments historically and highlighting their dangers—was identifying the end stage of a broader process. We had reached a point where politicians and parties were coming to power and actively engaging in democratic erosion. At the same time, we are now at a stage where we understand much more about how this process unfolds. Scholars like Ziblatt, Levitsky, and many others have done an excellent job of tracing what is now often referred to as the authoritarian playbook: how democratic backsliding occurs. In the West, this typically does not happen through coups, as it often did in the past, but through a gradual process in which norms and institutions are weakened from within.
However, this should be understood as the endpoint of a longer causal process. It is a crucial stage—one at which intervention is still possible—but by the time a system reaches this point, its norms and institutions have already weakened to a degree that makes them vulnerable. In that sense, we are now moving beyond the dynamics highlighted in How Democracies Die toward a broader recognition that the processes described in that book are rooted in deeper structural conditions.
Gradual Backsliding Is Harder to Recognize—and Resist
Do you see today’s pattern of democratic erosion—often gradual, legalistic, and electorally legitimated—as fundamentally different from earlier authoritarian breakdowns, or as part of a longer historical continuum that includes past democratic crises?
Professor Sheri Berman: These questions are helpful because they build on one another. As I mentioned, and as many scholars have emphasized, coups and immediate ruptures—quick authoritarian takeovers—were quite common in the past. What we are experiencing in the West today, less so than in other parts of the world, is different. We still see coups and rapid democratic breakdowns elsewhere, but in the West, the kind of post–third wave decay we are discussing has largely occurred through what is often called the authoritarian playbook—through a much more gradual undermining and hollowing out of democracy from within.
This pattern is therefore more common today, particularly in the West, than what we have seen historically. In a way, this also makes it more difficult to respond effectively, because there is often debate about how serious the erosion really is. Are we truly facing democratic backsliding? Is any particular move decisive in either accelerating or stopping the process? This creates a kind of puzzle for both scholars and citizens.
Many people do not fully recognize what is happening until it is too late, and this dynamic also generates significant divisions within the small-d democratic camp. For example, in the United States, while most within the Democratic Party believe that Trump and the Republicans pose a threat to democracy, there are very different views about how to respond—what the appropriate strategy is and where the core problem lies.
By contrast, when there are troops in the streets, it is clear to everyone that the priority is to get them back into the barracks. In a situation like this, however, where erosion is gradual and incremental, it becomes much harder to generate consensus and to coalesce around an effective strategy for resisting democratic decline.
Why Economic Insecurity Amplifies Cultural Grievances
Dutch farmers protest against measures to reduce nitrogen emissions in the city centre of The Hague, the Netherlands, on June 28, 2022. Photo: Dreamstime.
Your work links democratic instability to the long-term consequences of neoliberal capitalism. In light of current cost-of-living crises and inequality debates, to what extent should contemporary populism be understood as a political economy crisis rather than a cultural backlash?
Professor Sheri Berman: I think it’s both. As we have discussed before, there are a number of causes. On the demand side, both economic challenges and the grievances they generate are absolutely crucial.But social and cultural grievances are also important, along with, as we noted earlier, technological changes that are increasing polarization and dissatisfaction in our societies. It is very difficult to understand the democratic dissatisfaction that is feeding populism—and, partially through populism, democratic decay—without looking at economic grievances. That is to say, without considering rising inequality, growing insecurity, and disruptions stemming from automation, trade, and, potentially in the not-too-distant future, AI.
These are all factors creating a great deal of dissatisfaction among citizens. In turn, we know from strong scholarship that in such contexts it becomes much easier to increase the salience of social and cultural grievances, which are also central to contemporary democratic dysfunction. It becomes easier to direct attention to the perceived downsides of immigration when people believe that immigrants may be taking their jobs or using scarce public resources. Why, they might ask, should their tax money go toward housing for immigrants when there is not enough public housing for them? Why should they support a welfare state that can barely respond to their own needs, rather than helping those who have come from outside? These dynamics are therefore very difficult to disentangle, and they feed off each other in deeply pernicious ways.
From Grand Ideologies to Fragmented Discontent
You describe ideological transformation as a two-stage process requiring both the de-legitimation of existing paradigms and the emergence of alternatives. Are we currently in an “interregnum” where dissatisfaction is high but coherent ideological replacements—whether on the left or right—remain underdeveloped?
Professor Sheri Berman: I would say that this is indeed true. Part of this is that, as a historically minded social scientist, when I look back at previous eras of ideological ferment—the 1930s, for instance, the interwar period, or even the post-war period—we had real ideological alternatives. In the interwar period, we had fascism, National Socialism, and communism. These were ideologies—entire Weltanschauungen, or worldviews. They were not only opposed to liberal democracy—both clearly were—but also aspired to remake society and the economy.
What we have today are rather grievance-based movements on both the right and the left that share some similarities with their predecessors. On the left, we see anti-capitalist, anti-elite rhetoric, often accompanied by a degree of illiberalism. On the right, we see strong elements of nativism, xenophobia, and racism, as part of a broader illiberal backlash, along with, in some sectors, a kind of idealization of the past—the idea that society can return to a more traditional, often implicitly Christian, social order.
But these currents are much more inchoate than their predecessors. They draw on bits and pieces of earlier ideologies without the same coherence or power. I would also say they are more negative than positive on both the left and the right. They consist largely of grievances that have been brought together: dissatisfaction with capitalism on the left, anger about geopolitical issues such as Israel and Gaza, and on the right, resentment toward social change and elites.
It is important to remember, however unattractive it may seem to us now, that communism, fascism, and National Socialism also offered what I would carefully call positive visions. They articulated a sense of what a new future would look like. They did not only seek to destroy the old order but to create something new. I do not see that today.
That does not mean that these contemporary movements are not dangerous—they are, in many ways, very dangerous—but we are not dealing with the same kind of ideological conflict that characterized what Eric Hobsbawm and others have called the ideological twentieth century.
Why Exclusion of Populists Becomes Impossible
How does your framework help explain the persistence and normalization of far-right actors within democratic systems, even in relatively stable economies, and their increasing presence in mainstream coalition politics?
Professor Sheri Berman: To some degree, this is simply a result of their electoral success. It is very hard to keep out parties in proportional representation systems, as in Europe, that are getting 20–25% of the vote. The parties that have come to power in Europe have done so simply because they have won elections—not majorities, but enough that it is not possible to keep them out of power.In that sense, it is fairly straightforward to understand why they have gained the power and influence that they have. And it creates a number of knock-on effects, returning to the idea we discussed earlier about symptom and cause. If we look at a situation like the one that currently exists in Germany, the AfD is polling so high that it is almost impossible in many German states—and may very well soon be impossible at the national level—to put together a coalition government that does not include them.
You are therefore facing a situation in which the alternatives are either incoherent or minority governments, both of which have difficulty putting together coherent policy packages capable of solving society’s problems, thereby driving dissatisfaction further, or including in your coalition—especially in the German case, because the AfD is among the more radical right-wing parties in Europe today—a party that is clearly illiberal and potentially even anti-democratic.
This is a very difficult situation, simply from a mathematical perspective, in many of these countries. In other European countries, we have seen right-wing populists come to power, and, honestly, they have not had that much impact on democracy. We have had right-wing populists in power in the Netherlands, in Finland, and now, obviously, in Italy, and there, I would say that while they may be problematic in some ways, we have not seen the kind of democratic erosion that some predicted would occur.
So, you really have to look at these developments on a case-by-case basis. The AfD in Germany is something most observers are watching closely, because it is a much more radical right-wing party than its counterparts in places like the Netherlands, Finland, Denmark, or even Italy.
Trumpism as a Symptom of Deep Structural Divisions
Donald Trump’s supporters wearing “In God We Trump” shirts at a rally in Bojangles’ Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, on March 2, 2020. Photo: Jeffrey Edwards.
In the case of Trumpism’s influence on US politics, should it be interpreted primarily as an expression of long-standing structural cleavages, or as the result of contingent elite strategies and institutional vulnerabilities?
Professor Sheri Berman: For me, Trump is very much a symptom. He has now caused a significant amount of democratic backsliding—an unprecedented amount, I would say—but there is simply no way to understand the Trump phenomenon without looking back, as I mentioned and as I discussed in the article you referenced at the beginning in the Journal of Democracy, at very deep structural problems in American society and the American economy.
There is no way to understand why people would, first, vote for him, and second, be so frustrated with the Democrats, without considering what are now decades of social decay and economic division. This is clearly a situation in which Trump was a symptom of underlying social, economic, and political problems and, once in power, has intensified all of the above—not only for the United States but for the rest of the world as well.
Trump and the Unraveling of a Fragile International System
Given your argument that democracy’s troubles are historically rooted, how should we interpret current claims about the “collapse” of the global liberal order—especially amid rising authoritarian powers and weakening multilateralism?
Professor Sheri Berman: That is downstream of many of the things we have been discussing here—most notably, but not exclusively, the rise of Donald Trump. Trump, as a key progenitor of democratic backsliding in the United States, has, since coming to power—particularly over the past year, but also since 2016—undermined democratic norms and institutions in a very significant way. He has also taken an axe to the liberal democratic order. But, again, that liberal democratic order was not particularly healthy beforehand.
I have used, in other writings—and I am sure others have as well—the idea of an immune system. If two people are standing in a train car and one has a compromised immune system, and someone coughs, that person might get sick, while the other simply leaves the train and continues with their life. The fact that Trump has been able to cause so much damage reflects the existence of significant structural weaknesses in the liberal democratic order to begin with.
This is a kind of iterative or cyclical process. At the same time, there is no doubt that the decay we have seen in the liberal democratic order over the past year, in particular, is very much the result of conscious choices made by the Trump administration—to increase divisions with allies, to attack institutions that had long been part of this order, and to form alliances with actors such as Russia that have been fundamentally opposed to it. All of these are clearly deliberate actions—agency, so to speak. But, again, his ability to come to power and to pursue this course reflects deeper structural weaknesses that he has been able to exploit.
Can Middle Powers Rebuild What US Leadership Abandoned?
Canadian Prime Minister Mark Carney attends a joint press conference with Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskiy on Ukraine’s Independence Day in Kyiv, Ukraine on August 24, 2025. Photo: Vladyslav Musiienko / Dreamstime.
As transatlantic divergence becomes an observable reality—particularly under Trump’s renewed leadership—how should we interpret the effective “de-coupling” of the United States and Europe and its effect on the legitimacy and authority of international institutions? Does this fragmentation mark a structural erosion of the liberal international order, or the emergence of a more pluralized and contested system of governance with competing centers of norm-setting?
Professor Sheri Berman: I think it would be very hard to maintain, or to return to, some version of that liberal international order without American commitment and, alongside that, some kind of renewed alliance between the United States and Europe.I do not see that happening, even if Trump leaves, simply because at this point there is so much water under the bridge. If I were a European, even if a Democrat came to power in the next election, I would be very wary about hitching my horse to the United States, knowing that right around the corner there could come another version of Trump—Vance, Rubio, or someone similar. So, I think it is going to be very hard to recreate that, although I do think that if a Democrat comes to power, we will see some attempts to do so.
The alternative, as you mentioned, and as several people have been discussing—including Macron and Mark Carney in Canada—is to replace this American-led liberal international order with something new, potentially better, constructed by middle powers. My response to that is: more power to you. I hope you can do that. I think it would be good for those countries and for the globe. Historically, however, it is very difficult to construct an international order without some kind of hegemon, both pushing that project forward and willing to absorb some of the collective costs.
So, this is where we are right now. The American-led international order, at least for now, is pretty much dead. Whether middle powers can step in to patch things up enough to prevent further fragmentation remains to be seen. I hope they can, for the good not only of their own citizens but of the globe, but it concerns me greatly.
Rebuilding Representation as the Key to Democratic Stability
Finally, looking ahead, what are the most critical variables shaping democracy’s future in this context of geopolitical rivalry and domestic polarization: the renewal of representation, economic restructuring, or the restoration of democratic norms—and how might these interact to stabilize or further strain democratic systems?
Professor Sheri Berman: That is a very large question to end on. Let me say something broad and perhaps not particularly profound, which is that I actually think the domestic level is the key driver here. That is to say, the central challenge is figuring out how to get mainstream political parties—it does not necessarily have to be the old ones; again, some people may be fed up with social democratic, Christian democratic, and conservative parties—but parties that are committed to democracy need to figure out how to address, as we have discussed, the economic challenges their societies are facing, the social and cultural challenges they are confronting, and the technological changes that are driving so much disruption.
Can they do that? If they can, then we will see support for these anti-establishment, disruptive populist parties decline, and these political systems stabilize. I firmly believe that more stable democracies—not only in the West but also in other parts of the globe—will be in a much better position to address international challenges, whether civil wars, interstate wars, or climate change. They will also be better positioned to deal with international challenges and to recreate, as we discussed in the previous question, some form of viable international cooperation, including international institutions and organizations.
If we can reconstruct some degree of democratic stability, not just in the West but also elsewhere, the benefits would be significant. Turkey, for example, is a major actor and a bridge between the West and the Middle East. A stable, well-functioning democratic regime there would be a major boon, most importantly for Turkey’s own citizens, but also an important contribution to addressing a wide range of global challenges. So, again, I am hopeful that parties committed to liberal democracy can somehow manage to get their act together and become more effective and responsive to their citizens.
As Hungary approaches the April 12 elections, Viktor Orbán’s long-standing rule faces a critical test shaped by both domestic discontent and geopolitical realignments. In this interview, Associate Professor Attila Antal characterizes the regime as a “constitutional dictatorship,” arguing that the election is not about democratic legitimacy but about securing “public support for its own dictatorial turn.” He highlights how authoritarian legality, sustained through a “dual state” and permanent emergency governance, has hollowed out democratic competition. At the same time, the rise of Péter Magyar and mounting generational and material grievances signal growing resistance. Situated within broader transnational authoritarian networks, Hungary’s election emerges as both a domestic referendum and a geopolitical fault line for European democracy.
As Hungary approaches its pivotal parliamentary elections on April 12, 2026, the country stands at a defining juncture in the trajectory of European populism. After more than a decade and a half of rule by Viktor Orbán, the electoral contest no longer centers merely on party competition, but on whether an entrenched authoritarian-populist regime—characterized by institutional asymmetries, constitutional engineering, and the continuous production of political enemies—can still be meaningfully challenged through democratic means. At the same time, the emergence of Péter Magyar and the Tisza Party has introduced new uncertainty into a system long sustained by what Attila Antal describes as a “hegemonic power bloc,” raising the stakes of what increasingly resembles a systemic referendum.
In this context, Attila Antal, Associate Professor at Eötvös Loránd University, offers a sobering interpretation of the current moment. In his view, the Orbán regime has evolved beyond conventional electoral authoritarianism into what he terms a “constitutional dictatorship,” where formal legality coexists with substantive domination. Most strikingly, Assoc. Prof. Antal argues that “the Orbán regime is not seeking democratic legitimacy in the 2026 elections, but rather public support for its own dictatorial turn.” This diagnosis reframes the election not as a mechanism of accountability, but as a plebiscitary instrument designed to consolidate power under conditions of managed legality.
Crucially, Assoc. Prof. Antal situates Hungary’s electoral moment within a broader geopolitical reconfiguration. He underscores that Orbán has increasingly treated foreign and European policy “as a kind of geopolitical playing field,” cultivating alliances with both Eastern and Western authoritarian actors. The alignment with figures such as Donald Trump and Vladimir Putin reflects not only ideological affinity but also strategic positioning within an emerging transnational authoritarian network. As Assoc. Prof. Antal notes, Hungary has come to function as a “Trojan horse” for Putinist influence within the European Union, transforming the election into “a European and Western geopolitical issue and interest.” This external dimension is mirrored internally by a deepening social cleavage, as segments of Hungarian society remain firmly oriented toward the West while the regime consolidates a pro-Russian political base.
This external dimension intersects with internal tensions, including growing social discontent and a generational divide that reflects what Assoc. Prof. Antal describes as “a very strong generational revolt against Orbán’s authoritarian populism.”
At the core of Assoc. Prof. Antal’s analysis is the concept of authoritarian law and the “dual state,” where a formally normative legal order coexists with a politically driven prerogative structure. Under prolonged states of emergency and rule by decree, Hungary has become, in his words, “a contemporary example of dual state,” raising profound questions about whether elections can still function as instruments of democratic alternation. The opposition’s strategy of contesting the regime “by its own rules” thus reflects a deeper dilemma: whether authoritarian systems can be dismantled through participation in the very institutional frameworks they have reshaped.
Assoc. Prof. Antal’s assessment is stark. The durability of Orbánism, he suggests, lies in its capacity to adapt, radicalize, and survive through escalating authoritarianism. As he warns, the regime “can only survive by becoming increasingly dictatorial,” a trajectory that poses not only a domestic challenge but “a grave danger to both Hungarian and European societies as a whole.”
Here is the edited version of our interview with AssociateProfessor Attila Antal, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Geopolitics and Domestic Change Reshape Orbánism
From Left: Hungary PM Viktor Orban, Poland PM Beata Szydlo, Czech PM Bohuslav Sobotka and Slovakia PM Robert Fico pose prior their meeting in Prague on February 15, 2016.
Professor Antal, in your work you describe Hungarian authoritarian populism as a system that fuses political identity construction, executive aggrandizement, and the legal-institutional reorganization of power. In the 2026 campaign, do you see Orbánism still functioning as a hegemonic political project, or has it entered a phase of ideological exhaustion in which its capacity to define “the people” and monopolize popular sovereignty is beginning to weaken?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: This is a key issue for understanding the Orbán regime as a whole and the current situation. Indeed, Orbán has built an authoritarian regime in which the ruling parties have reigned as a kind of hegemonic center—or, to use Antonio Gramsci’s terminology, as a hegemonic power bloc. However, the transformation of the opposition has changed the situation and shaken this hegemonic project. This is, however, a complex situation: in recent years, Orbán had become so confident that he increasingly focused on geopolitics; more precisely, he treated foreign policy and European policy as a kind of geopolitical playing field, where he built power and political alliances with both Eastern and Western authoritarian regimes. It is no coincidence that the two most significant imperialist powers, Trump and Putin, have both assured Orbán of their support. So, I see the collapse of Orbán’s hegemonic project as only partially attributable to domestic political factors: we are witnessing that Orbán’s downfall has become a European and Western geopolitical issue and interest, and this resonates with the anger of Hungarian society, which, for the most part, remains oriented toward the West.
Enemy Narratives Persist but Face Social Limits
You have argued that authoritarian populism in Hungary relies on permanent enemy-production. In the current election, where Kyiv, Brussels, liberal elites, and domestic opponents are again being woven into a single antagonistic narrative, how should we understand this strategy: as a sign of discursive resilience, or as evidence that the regime has become trapped in repetitive forms of mobilization?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: The enemy creation of the Orbán regime is a highly complex story. There is no doubt that the constant creation of enemy images is one of the most prominent components of the authoritarian populist toolkit. Since 2010, the Orbán regime has operated with the following main enemy images: migrants, George Soros, civil society, Brussels, the gender politics, and the domestic political opposition.
From this perspective, 2022 marks a turning point, as Putin’s aggression required the construction of a new enemy image – an incredibly difficult task, given that the attacked Ukraine must be transformed into the new enemy. All of this is connected to the “Putinization” that has taken place within the Orbán regime. The propaganda and discursive framework are thus in place, yet creating this new enemy image also means that Orbán and his allies face the reality that a significant portion of Hungarian society is quite averse to Russians due to Hungarian history. At the same time, Orbán and his allies have succeeded in turning their own camp into a pro-Russian faction, which has resulted in an incredibly deep social cleavage.
Anti-Orbánism Unites a Fragmented Opposition
Tisza leader Péter Magyar begins a symbolic “one million steps” march to Nagyvárad, Romania, addressing reporters with supporters in Budapest, Hungary on May 14, 2025. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.
To what extent should the April 12 vote be interpreted not simply as a contest between Fidesz and Tisza, but as a referendum on whether a mature authoritarian-populist regime can still be electorally displaced despite media asymmetries, constitutional engineering, and patronage entrenchment?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: As I mentioned earlier, the Orbán regime itself and the new opposition forming against it can be understood within a geopolitical context. One could also say that, in many respects, the European Union has had enough of the Putinist influence that the Orbán regime represents as a “Trojan horse.” At the same time, this dissatisfaction is just as true of Hungarian society: at the moment, the opposition is held together by anti-Orbánism and the fact that the Orbán regime has seriously neglected governance and the basic needs of the Hungarian people. In this sense, the Hungarian election can indeed be interpreted as a referendum on the political system.
Dual State Logic Structures Political Competition
Your recent work on authoritarian law suggests that contemporary autocratic projects do not abolish legality so much as repurpose it. In the Hungarian case, how should we conceptualize the election itself: as a democratic mechanism still capable of producing alternation, or as a legally managed arena whose formal openness coexists with substantive authoritarian constraint?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: I think this is a very important question. When I analyzed the legal system of the Orbán regime, I drew on the “dual state” approach developed by Ernst Fraenkel, who studied the nature of National Socialist law in the interwar period. In this authoritarian state, there exists a legal system that is totally influenced by politics (which Fraenkel calls the Prerogative State), while at the same time there is the Normative State, which is less defined by political influence.
The Orbán regime has effectively been operating under a state of emergency since 2015, and since 2022, the prime minister has essentially been governing by decree. So, we are facing a contemporary example of dual state.
In my view, there is a very strong dilemma: can this system be overthrown by accepting its rules of the game and participating in the election, or can we overthrow the system as a result of a collective popular decision and establish new democratic electoral rules? It now appears that the opposition side of Hungarian society is choosing the former solution, that is, it wants to defeat the authoritarian system by its own rules. At the same time, it is certain that in the event of a possible change of government, we will have to face the problem posed by authoritarian law.
Enemy Logic Embedded in Governance Structures
Campaign poster of Viktor Orbán ahead of the April 12, 2026, parliamentary elections. Photo: Bettina Wagner / Dreamstime.
You have written about the “Constitutionalized Image of Enemy” embedded in the Hungarian Fundamental Law. How central is this constitutionalized enemy logic to the present campaign, especially in Orbán’s efforts to portray Tisza, Brussels, and Ukraine not as legitimate competitors, but as existential threats to the political community?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: The most recent amendment to the Fundamental Law took place in April 2025. The Hungarian Fundamental Law has indeed been used to create the prevailing political enemy images: certainly, with regard to migration and gender politics. I have termed this as the “Constitutionalized Image of the Enemy.” In this sense, therefore, the image of the enemy enshrined in the constitution did not play a role in the current campaign. At the same time, the 12th Amendment to the Fundamental Law established the Office for the Protection of National Sovereignty in December 2023, which played a very significant role in enabling the Orbán regime to essentially begin using state and bureaucratic tools against its political opponents and Hungarian society. In other words, the “dual state” mentioned earlier operates at the constitutional level as well.
Geopolitical Counterweight Shapes Opposition Rise
From the standpoint of your theory of authoritarian populism, is Péter Magyar best understood as a democratic challenger to Orbánism, or as a post-Fidesz corrective emerging from within the same political and ideological ecosystem?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: This is a very difficult question, and it would be too early to give any definitive answer at this stage. I would rather point out that the Hungarian election has a very strong geopolitical context. The Péter Magyar phenomenon and the European support structure behind it can also be understood as a geopolitical counterweight to Hungary’s shift toward Orbán and Putin. At the same time, there is no doubt that Orbán’s challenger was socialized within the Orbán regime and, in many respects, is attempting to correct the right-wing conservative politics that Orbán has betrayed. Here, however, it is worth noting once again that the vast camp behind the Tisza Party is far more complex and is currently held together by the constraints of the electoral system and anti-Orbánism.
Youth Revolt Meets Rural Entrenchment
Independent polling and current reporting suggest that younger voters are disproportionately aligning with Tisza, while Fidesz retains stronger support among older and more rural constituencies. Do you interpret this as a generational realignment against authoritarian populism, or merely as a contingent reaction to economic stagnation and elite scandal?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: This is also a key issue. There is no doubt that the authoritarian populism of the Orbán regime has, intentionally or not, created a generational and regional divide. A significant portion of rural and elderly Hungarian voters is far more susceptible to the enemy stereotypes and messages manufactured by the regime’s propaganda. Thus, there is a very strong generational revolt against Orbán’s authoritarian populism, particularly because Orbán is effectively blackmailing not only the EU but also Hungarian society: the former with constant vetoes, and the latter with constant threats of leaving the EU.
Middle-Class Erosion Fuels Political Backlash
Given your emphasis on the relationship between neoliberal restructuring and authoritarian populism, how important are material grievances—stagnant growth, inflation, deteriorating public services, and corruption fatigue—in weakening the regime’s capacity to maintain consent? Can economic deterioration disrupt a system whose legitimacy has long depended on symbolic conflict rather than policy performance?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: From a political-economic perspective, the Orbán regime was based on a class consensus in which the (upper) middle class and national big business formed an alliance. This was underpinned by pre-COVID-19 economic prosperity and massive amounts of EU funding. During this period of economic prosperity, however, a neoliberal state emerged that systematically dismantled public services, particularly in the healthcare and education sectors. When the polycrisis emerged (EU crises, pandemic, war), the dismantled Orbán state proved unable to handle the crisis: alongside the groups in the worst situations, the declining Hungarian middle class is the biggest loser of the Orbán regime. In other words, the rebellion against the Orbán regime is, in many respects, also of a material nature.
War Narrative Enables Democratic Suspension
How do you interpret Orbán’s continued “peace versus war” framing in light of your broader work on the politics of exception? Is this campaign discourse best seen as a contemporary form of emergency politics—one that converts geopolitical uncertainty into a justification for executive concentration and democratic suspension?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: As I mentioned, since 2022 the prime minister has essentially been governing by decree, encroaching even on areas of public policy where a state of emergency has no place. Meanwhile, political propaganda has constantly claimed that the Orbán regime is the only guarantee of peace. This has come to a head in the current campaign, with the Orbán machine conveying the message that the opposition is on the side of the Ukrainians and is dragging Hungary into the war. Governing through extraordinary measures is thus a political and communicative reframing: the Orbán regime has essentially suspended parliamentary democracy and portrayed the Ukrainian side (including the EU and the Hungarian opposition) as wanting war. I believe that this is not just some kind of fake news campaign, but the pure and frightening manifestation of an authoritarian state.
Sovereigntist Rhetoric Masks Strategic Dependence
Hungary’s pro-Russian posture has become a major campaign fault line. In your view, does Orbán’s Moscow-friendly stance still function as a coherent ideological expression of sovereigntist anti-liberalism, or is it increasingly becoming a liability as the war in Ukraine reshapes the moral and geopolitical boundaries of European politics?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: Orbán’s pro-Russian policy is a complex phenomenon. At least three aspects are worth highlighting. On the one hand, there is no doubt that, with regard to the international authoritarian right, there exists a kind of ideological coalition whose political-theoretical foundation is an anti-liberal conservative approach dating back to Carl Schmitt. Second, the Orbán regime has radically relinquished energy sovereignty in favor of Putinism. Third, there is also no doubt that Orbán and his regime are personally dependent on Putin’s system. Here, then, lies a radical contradiction: the Orbán regime, which is sovereignist at the level of propaganda, has deliberately renounced the sovereignty of the Hungarian state and is weakening European sovereignty in favor of Russia. The deeper implications of this can only be revealed after the election.
Militant Democracy as a Possible Path
You have shown how exceptional governance can become normalized. If Tisza were to win without a constitutional supermajority, would Hungary enter a phase of partial alternation without regime transformation—in other words, a situation in which a new government governs through institutions still structured by the old exception-centered order?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: I believe this is one of the main consequences of the dilemma I mentioned earlier: namely, how to dismantle an authoritarian system – either by adhering to its own rules or through more revolutionary means. If there is a change of government and a two-thirds majority is achieved, dismantling the authoritarian power of the Orbán regime will be a challenge. If, however, the change of government occurs with a simple majority, it may become inevitable to consider how the authoritarian system can be dismantled using the tools of militant democracy.
EU Influence and Domestic Revolt Intersect
Tisza Party volunteer collecting signatures in Mosonmagyaróvár, Hungary on June 5, 2024 during a nationwide campaign tour ahead of the European Parliament elections. Photo: Sarkadi Roland / Dreamstime.
What would a Tisza victory actually reveal about the Orbán system: that authoritarian-populist rule remains vulnerable to democratic challenge, or that only an insider-led revolt from within the regime’s broader political class can break such a system electorally?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: Based on what we’ve seen so far, I believe a potential victory for Tisza would have two implications. On the one hand, it would signal that the EU has had enough of Putinism directly influencing European politics. On the other hand, it would mean that authoritarian populism has become completely detached from social reality, and that Hungarian society has had enough of a political agenda built on constant hatemongering and the suspension of normality.
Authoritarian Consolidation Beyond Legitimacy
Conversely, if Fidesz were to retain power despite signs of economic strain, ideological repetition, corruption exposure, and opposition momentum, what would that tell us about the resilience of contemporary populist rule in Europe? Would it suggest that once authoritarian populism successfully constitutionalizes its power, elections alone become insufficient to dislodge it?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: I believe this is the most important issue of our time. Unfortunately, my grim assessment is that the Orbán regime is not seeking democratic legitimacy in the 2026 elections, but rather public support for its own dictatorial turn. I have long regarded the Orbán regime as a constitutional dictatorship, which means, on the one hand, that contemporary autocracies have a constitutional framework, and on the other hand, that certain segments of society have renounced democracy and accept the exercise of authoritarian power. Overall, therefore, the Orbán regime can only survive by becoming increasingly dictatorial, a trend that poses a grave danger to both Hungarian and European society as a whole.
Competing Visions of European Sovereignty
From the perspective of European integration, do you see this election as a struggle between two models of sovereignty: Orbán’s confrontational, anti-imperial, anti-Brussels sovereigntism and a more cooperative, rule-of-law-based claim to national interest that Tisza is trying to articulate? Or is that dichotomy too neat for the political realities of contemporary Hungary?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: First of all, the Orbán regime is indeed imperialist, and it pursues policies that serve Russian imperialist interests. The Hungarian election is crucial from the perspective of European integration, as the dilemma is whether there exists a European sovereignty that can be relied upon to stand up against authoritarian tendencies such as Trumpism and Putinism. I am committed to the idea, as Karl Loewenstein put it, that democracy must develop its own self-defense mechanisms and fight back – in our case, at both the member state and EU levels.
External Validation Meets Internal Resistance
Matryoshka dolls featuring images of Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump displayed at a souvenir counter in Moscow on March 16, 2019. Photo: Shutterstock.
Hungary has become a reference point within transnational right-wing networks, and Orbán continues to attract symbolic support from US and European conservative actors. In analytical terms, how much does this external validation matter domestically? Does it strengthen the regime’s legitimacy, or does it mainly reinforce Orbán’s self-image as a global ideological entrepreneur?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: From the perspective of ideological and political networking, the Orbán regime truly acts as a mediator between Western and Eastern authoritarian tendencies. This is why organizing the European far right is of key importance to Orbán. All of this undoubtedly has an impact on his own camp. At the same time, Orbán’s status as a “global ideological entrepreneur” represents the very project against which the Hungarian opposition has been able to unite and become committed to a change of government.
De-capture vs. Persistence of Orbánism
Finally, through the lens of your work on authoritarian law and exceptional governance, what would be the most theoretically significant post-election question for scholars to watch: whether electoral alternation occurs, whether institutional de-capture proves possible, or whether the deeper legacy of Orbánism survives regardless of who forms the next government?
Associate Professor Attila Antal: This is also one of the most important dilemmas of our era from both a Hungarian and a European perspective, as the political and legal consequences of the Orbán regime are toxic to European integration as a whole. On the one hand, just as happened after World War II, we must once again grapple with the question of how to take democratic action against authoritarian legal and political systems. On the other hand, and even more importantly: we must finally prevent the distortion of liberal democracies toward authoritarianism not only through constitutional institutions but also through effective economic and cultural means. In my view, it is crucial to examine how global capitalism and neoliberalism have distorted liberal constitutionalism and how they have eroded the social foundations of democracies through austerity measures and the dismantling of welfare systems.
In this commentary, Dr. Oludele Solaja introduces the notion of “survival populism” to capture how environmental crisis and material insecurity are reshaping democratic politics in the Global South. Moving beyond conventional ideational approaches, the article foregrounds lived experiences of hardship—linking fuel price shocks, flooding, energy insecurity, and inflation to moral claims about fairness, state responsibility, and distributive justice. Through the case of Nigeria, Dr. Solaja demonstrates how climate-related disruptions and policy reforms converge to erode institutional trust and reconfigure political contestation. Rather than rejecting climate policy per se, citizens contest its unequal burdens. The article thus reframes democratic distress as rooted in distributive conflict, offering a compelling framework for understanding how ecological crisis fuels new forms of populist mobilization and legitimacy crises.
In much of the Global South, the politics of survival and the politics of environmental crisis have become deeply intertwined. What were once distinct policy domains—the politics of fuel prices, flood mitigation, food inflation, waste accumulation, and energy insecurity—have converged into a single, lived experience of persistent hardship. For millions of citizens, the environmental crisis is not primarily defined by climate reports, international negotiations, or adaptation frameworks, but by submerged homes, rising transport costs, prolonged electricity outages, disrupted livelihoods, and escalating prices for basic goods.
Within such contexts of livelihood insecurity, ecological degradation takes on political meaning. Citizens come to see hardship not just as the result of misfortune or climatic fluctuation, but as an instance of unequal protection, institutional neglect and democratic distance. Under such conditions, public politics enters a new phase: a populism of survival emerges.
“Populism of survival” names a distinct mode of political interpretation that links environmental and economic distress to moral claims about state responsibility, fairness, and sacrifice. It departs from classical theories of populism by foregrounding the lived experience of hardship. Unlike the variants often associated with populist mobilizations in the Global North and East—typically structured around a binary opposition between “the people” and “the elite”—populism of survival is rooted in citizens’ experiences of material insecurity. Fuel becomes political when rising prices constrain mobility and limit access to basic goods; flooding becomes political when relief is inadequate or unevenly distributed; waste becomes political when its unequal management deepens social inequalities and disproportionately endangers already vulnerable populations.
In such contexts, public anger arises not only from opposition to environmental policy reforms but also from citizens’ everyday moral intuitions about who bears the costs of environmental disruption, who is required to pay, and who is protected. The relationship between climate policy and democratic legitimacy begins to erode when policies are perceived as non-distributive or unfair. Increasingly, the roots of climate populism lie in conflicts over how the costs and benefits of environmental transition are allocated. As Harrison (2025) observes, “across many settings, opposition to environmental reforms may stem not from a rejection of climate policies per se, but from opposition to the inequities of how their costs are distributed.”
An illustrative example of these dynamics can be found in Nigeria, where the government removed fuel subsidies in May 2023 and framed the resulting increase in fuel prices as a necessary macroeconomic adjustment. Public discourse surrounding the policy quickly became highly politicized, as rising fuel costs contributed to significant inflation and tightened household budgets. While state officials justified the reform in terms of fiscal discipline and economic rationalization, many citizens interpreted it through a moral lens: why should those at the bottom struggle to make ends meet while those with access to power remain insulated from such burdens? As Gbadebo (2025) argues, public responses to subsidy removal were shaped not only by the material consequences of economic hardship but also by concerns over governmental credibility and the plausibility of promised developmental outcomes.
These processes were intensified by other long-standing environmental and structural vulnerabilities and crises that now affected a wider portion of society than in past years. Following the floods that devastated numerous states—destroying livelihoods, homes, and arable lands—rising costs merged with food insecurity and frequent blackouts to form an inseparable social and ecological predicament. The state could no longer frame this predicament as exclusively “natural” or solely as the outcome of a natural disaster or poor market conditions. The experience was one of combined, cumulative crisis, and the credibility of the state in addressing such predicaments is tied to its performance on both fronts.
Flooding has, in particular, emerged as a major site of citizen dissatisfaction and a potent factor driving democratic distress. Displaced communities that have lost homes and productive capacity immediately feel cheated when the amount or distribution of government aid seems to reproduce and reinforce existing patterns of social inequality, and they begin to ask why state assistance appears uneven across communities and is not delivered to them preferentially. Climate policy has entered a phase in which state legitimacy is judged not solely in terms of its objectives or rationale, but also in terms of the effectiveness and fairness of its management of combined environmental and social threats.
Studies such as those by Okonkwo and Ezenwegbu (2024), which find that subsidy removal in Nigeria sparked significant concern among citizens who lacked a clear understanding of mitigation strategies or social protection, as well as analyses of the success and failure of fossil-fuel subsidy reform across various settings by Droste et al (2024), indicate that, when it comes to distributing the burdens of adjustment policies effectively, “technical argumentation alone has rarely been able to overcome such deeply seated mistrust.” The need for state institutions to earn citizens’ confidence through fairness, reciprocity, and demonstrable competence is therefore crucial in contexts with lower levels of public trust.
These issues are exacerbated in countries such as Nigeria, which suffer from chronic failures in infrastructure provision. Hussainzad and Gou (2024) show, for instance, that informality places the burden of adapting to ecological threats onto already existing socio-ecological inequalities. The populism of survival therefore cannot be interpreted solely as a product of irrational or ideological anti-state discourse, but as a request for a visible display of state competence. It requires public recognition from the state that it is aware of how these crises disproportionately affect ordinary citizens and is therefore prepared to demonstrate fairness and protection when such crises occur.
It may or may not amount to explicitly anti-government discourse; but at its core, it expresses a demand for visibility. What citizens seek is not just state intervention, but a demonstration of its commitment to justice when addressing both economic pressures and the demands of adapting to the climate crisis. These developments are interpreted by populists as a crucial and opening field of study centered on real, survival-oriented daily experiences, rather than on the ideologies and leaders of state actors. The main dilemma for democratic governments in the coming decade will be less about acknowledging that an environmental crisis is underway than about fairly distributing the costs of confronting it.
References
Droste, N.; Chatterton, B. & Skovgaard, J. (2024). “A political economy theory of fossil fuel subsidy reforms in OECD countries.” Nature Communications, 15, 5452.
Gbadebo, A. D. (2025). “The political economy of fuel subsidy removal: Governance and sustainable development in Nigeria.” Journal of Governance and Administrative Reform, 6(1), 1–18.
Hussainzad, E. A., & Gou, Z. (2024). “Climate risk and vulnerability assessment in informal settlements of the Global South: A critical review.” Land, 13(9), 1357.
Okonkwo, A. E., & Ezenwegbu, J. C. (2024). “Removal of petrol subsidies and its impact for democratic governance in Nigeria.” Nnamdi Azikiwe Journal of Political Science, 9(3), 38–47.
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi argues that Hungary’s April 12 election represents a critical test of whether entrenched populist rule can be electorally challenged. While he notes that “it will definitely be a test of incumbency survival,” he emphasizes that deeper dynamics—“ideological adaptation, state resource asymmetries, and narrative control”—remain decisive. Assoc. Prof. Csehi highlights growing limits in Orbán’s populist discourse, which “has lost its novelty,” alongside shifting political conditions marked by economic grievances and the rise of the Tisza Party as a credible challenger. Yet, even in the event of electoral turnover, he cautions that deeply embedded institutional structures may persist, potentially leading to “a prolonged struggle over state capacity.” Hungary thus offers a crucial case for assessing the resilience and limits of populist governance in Europe.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Robert Csehi, Associate Professor and Program Director of the Political Science Doctoral Program at the Corvinus University of Budapest, offers a nuanced and theoretically grounded assessment of Hungary’s evolving political landscape on the eve of a pivotal electoral contest.
As Hungary approaches its parliamentary elections on April 12, 2026, the country stands at a critical juncture. After sixteen years of rule under Viktor Orbán, the election has come to signify more than routine democratic competition. It represents a broader test of whether entrenched populist governance—characterized by institutional consolidation, discursive dominance, and asymmetrical resource control—can be meaningfully challenged through electoral mechanisms. The campaign unfolds amid deep polarization, intensifying geopolitical tensions, and mounting concerns over democratic resilience, media pluralism, and institutional fairness. At the same time, the emergence of Péter Magyar and the Tisza Party has introduced a new dynamic into Hungary’s political competition.
Against this backdrop, Assoc. Prof. Csehi underscores that “it will definitely be a test of incumbency survival,” while emphasizing that the stakes extend beyond electoral turnover to questions of “ideological adaptation, state resource asymmetries, and narrative control.” In his view, the durability of Hungary’s populist system is no longer assured. He identifies emerging cracks within the governing discourse, noting that “the supply of the populist worldview… has become less creative” and “has lost its novelty,” with the government increasingly relying on repetitive narratives—particularly around the war in Ukraine—to sustain mobilization.
At the same time, structural shifts on both the supply and demand sides of politics are reshaping the electoral terrain. The rise of the Tisza Party, Assoc. Prof. Csehi observes, has created “a new channel for people to express their grievances,”while also reactivating political engagement at the grassroots level. Concurrently, worsening economic conditions have intensified public discontent, as “people’s everyday grievances are rising,” and the government finds it increasingly difficult to externalize responsibility for inflation, corruption, and declining public services.
Assoc. Prof. Csehi’s analysis situates Hungary within a broader comparative framework, highlighting the uncertain trajectory of mature populist regimes. While electoral defeat could mark “the end of the Orbán regime” in formal terms, he cautions that deeply embedded institutional structures may persist, generating “a prolonged struggle over state capacity and institutional de-capture.” Conversely, a renewed victory for Fidesz would signal that such regimes retain significant resilience, even under conditions of economic strain and ideological fatigue.
Ultimately, as Assoc. Prof. Csehi concludes, the Hungarian case offers a critical empirical test: whether “a mature, populist-authoritarian regime can still be changed… in an electoral process.” In this sense, Hungary’s 2026 election stands as a defining moment not only for the country itself, but for understanding the resilience—and limits—of populist rule across Europe.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Associate Professor Robert Csehi, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Populist Discourse Losing Creativity
Poster from political party Fidesz showing the opponents of Hungarian PM Viktor Orban surrounding billionaire philanthropist George Soros, Budapest, April 8, 2017.
Professor Csehi, welcome. Let me begin with the broader picture: In your scholarship, you argue that Hungarian populism has endured through the continuous reconstruction of “the people,” the redefinition of “the elite,” and the rearticulation of popular sovereignty. In the current campaign, do you still see this triadic logic operating effectively, or are its mobilizational limits beginning to emerge?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: I don’t think we do see some limitations to the effectiveness of this renewed populist discourse in Hungary. I think there are fundamentally three changes that actually challenge Orban’s effective populist discourse.
The first one is, in essence, that the supply of the populist worldview in the discourse has become less creative. It has lost its novelty. There were references to the war, for example, in Ukraine already in the 2022 elections—so four years ago. I mean, the war had just broken out, and they already used warmongering during that period. They pushed the campaign to the extreme in 2024 during the European parliamentary elections. They used essentially the same narrative, the same discourse. And they haven’t managed to really renew this discourse, and they keep talking about the same thing. They keep appealing to people’s fear of the war now. So, in comparison to previous elections, where every four years you had a new enemy and a new elite that was conspiring against Hungary and the government, we don’t really see that in 2026 compared to 2022 or 2024. So that’s one major change.
The second one obviously also affects, or concerns, the supply side of politics, and you already mentioned the rise of the opposition Tisza Party, which means there is actually a new channel for people to express their grievances and to mobilize their political demands behind a party which seems to have more legitimacy. It’s probably not the right word, but it resonates with people much better than the old opposition parties, which, on many grounds, have lost the trust of the people over the years—not only because they were ineffective, but also because they were involved in all sorts of scandals throughout the years. And now there is a new party which actually effectively challenges the government on a lot of issues and calls attention to many things that previously the old opposition, as we refer to it now, had not done. Plus, they really go down to the countryside, and they really do talk to people. They are engaging with the people and the electorate, and that makes a huge difference. So these are on the supply side, which are extremely relevant.
And then there is one demand-side feature which really has had a great effect. Since 2022, the Hungarian economy has not been doing very well. So, this has put a lot of things on the political agenda. People’s everyday grievances are rising, from inflation to public services, corruption, etc. It is not like Fidesz or Orban is able to cover these up anymore. We had skyrocketing inflation in the past few years, and it has become extremely difficult for the government to externalize these kinds of problems. And so people don’t shove it off anymore, like, “Oh, well, we’re still doing better no matter what the government does.” “Yeah, they might be corrupt, they might be wrong on certain policy issues, et cetera, et cetera, but we’re still better off than we were four years ago.” They don’t say that anymore. So, effectively, the economy plays a huge role in this entire story as well.
Election Tests Incumbency Survival
To what extent should the April 12 election be understood not merely as a contest between Fidesz and Tisza, but as a broader test of whether long-term populist incumbency can withstand mounting economic pressures, corruption fatigue, and shifting voter expectations?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: That’s a good question. It will definitely be a test of incumbency survival, in a sense, but, in the background, it is really about ideological adaptation, state resource asymmetries, and narrative control—namely, the extent to which these can still be maintained and used to hold power. I’m not sure to what extent these can actually withstand all the structural- and agency-based challenges that I’ve mentioned previously. So, it is going to be an interesting test from a political science perspective as well, to see whether they actually manage to survive or not, and to what extent a mature, populist-authoritarian regime can still be changed or won over in an electoral process. The jury is still out, and I’m really looking forward to seeing what happens afterwards.
EU Framed As Background Enemy
Viktor Orban, Hungary’s prime minister arrives for a meeting with European Union leaders in Brussels, Belgium on Dec. 13, 2019. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.
You have shown that Orbán’s Eurosceptic populism often adopts an anti-imperialist framing, portraying Brussels as an external elite constraining Hungarian sovereignty. How central is this narrative in the current campaign, and does it retain its resonance in a context where access to EU funds and economic stability are increasingly salient concerns?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: It’s a very important point in the elections. Not in terms of the EU being a central topic—by all means, that’s not the case. Really, Orbán’s campaign is focusing on the war in Ukraine. Still, they have managed to somehow link this up with the EU. They have had billboard campaigns showing Ursula von der Leyen and Manfred Weber together with Volodymyr Zelensky, suggesting that the EU is taking the money of Hungarians and channeling it to Ukraine and to President Zelensky. So, they try to mingle these things together, mix them, and bring in the EU as, again, this sort of background power that is mistaken and on the side of war.
They have populist, moralist, discursive division, where Orbán portrays himself as a pro-peace political actor, whereas everybody else who does not agree with him, by definition, becomes pro-war, even if it does not really make sense.
So, in a sense, the EU is still there; it is referenced as, once again, occupying a pro-war position. As I said previously, they try to repeat the same claims as they did in the 2024 European parliamentary elections—drawing these very fine lines between who is on the side of peace and who is on the side of war, and they clearly place Brussels and the EU on the side of the war. And as I said, it is not only about the war per se. They also try to refer to the financial side of it, bringing this back repeatedly—claiming that the EU is taking your money, holding back funds, and channeling them to Ukraine. So, they frame it as financing the war instead of supporting Hungarian people, etc.
So, it is not center stage—I would say it is still the sort of antagonistic relationship between Ukraine and Hungary at the moment—but they do try to bring this into the discussion: that the EU is somewhere in the background, conspiring and doing all sorts of shady and harmful things. And the reason why they do that is that over the past years they have managed to convert their electorate into the most Eurosceptic segment of the population. In comparison to all other party supporters—with the exception of Our Homeland, the far-right party—probably the most Eurosceptic electorate is behind Fidesz at the moment. So it is just natural that they also play those tunes for their voters.
Tisza Promises Policy Reset
Tisza leader Péter Magyar begins a symbolic “one million steps” march to Nagyvárad, Romania, addressing reporters with supporters in Budapest, Hungary on May 14, 2025. Photo: Istvan Balogh / Dreamstime.
From the perspective of European integration, do you interpret this election as a confrontation between two competing models of EU membership—one sovereigntist and illiberal, the other oriented toward re-integration through rule-of-law compliance and institutional alignment?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: Yes and no. On the one hand, I would agree that Orban has had a very particular idea of defending sovereignty in the EU. He has thought that the defense of national sovereignty and national interest could only be pursued in a confrontational way. You have to use the channels of the European Council or the Council itself to block things and not really participate in negotiations and deliberations.
There have been multiple occasions where Orban was not present—they sent him out to have a coffee. From research, we know that Council negotiations have shifted somewhat in recent years. What we would describe as a kind of de-Europeanization in the Hungarian approach to EU affairs is what has occurred on multiple fronts.
Compared to that, Tisza and Magyar’s approach are definitely different from Orban’s on some issues. You mentioned the rule of law. Tisza claims that it will join the European Public Prosecutor’s Office as soon as it is in government. It also promises to resolve some of these rule-of-law issues and to bring back the funds that have been frozen under Orban’s regime. So, we can expect a return to more normal relations with the EU. This promise is also supported by the personnel envisioned to lead foreign and European affairs within the party.
That said, I say yes and no because I do think that Tisza also supports a model of European integration based on strengthening intergovernmental relations, as opposed to a supranational takeover in multiple areas. We have seen this time and again. They have run into conflicts on different policy measures, even within the European Parliament and within their own faction in the European People’s Party.
So, on the one hand, there is likely to be an effort to restore relations and the credibility of Hungary as a partner within the EU. On the other hand, there will be areas where they confront and challenge the direction of European policy. It is not going to be a return to the old days where Hungarian representatives simply nodded to everything the European Union demanded from the government. Rather, it will involve a stronger representation of national interests, but in a more cooperative—as opposed to confrontational—manner than Orban has pursued.
Turnover Won’t End Orbánism
If Péter Magyar and the Tisza party were to win, would that necessarily signify the end of the Orbán era, or has Orbánism become sufficiently institutionalized within the state, the media landscape, and patronage networks to persist beyond electoral turnover?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi:The easy answer, obviously, is that electorally this would be the end of the Orbán regime, at least temporarily.But when we really look into the structural features, I would say no. This will, in fact, be a very interesting period to study, to see how deep the roots of the regime actually went and grew, and how these roots actually act and behave under a new government.I would say there is fundamentally a deeper institutional structure here, which could make the life of the new government miserable on multiple accounts—from financial oversight to judicial oversight, etc. There are many aspects where the government has to govern effectively with its hands tied behind its back. So it is going to be difficult.
I would imagine that this will be something like a prolonged struggle over state capacity and institutional de-capture. They will try to take back some of these institutions with whatever legal means there are. Nevertheless, the government will have greater room for maneuver in terms of policies in many areas, and I do think that they can make changes that could have a positive outcome or resonance with the public.
And one thing we cannot really exclude as a possibility—again, the poll numbers are all over the place—but most independent pollsters show a 15 to even 20 percentage point lead for the opposition party, which could effectively also mean that Tisza would gain a two-thirds, or constitutional, majority. That would be a completely different ballgame, because with that, they could de-capture those institutions more easily. To what extent this would be done in a democratic way, or whether they would repeat something similar to what we have seen during the Fidesz era, I am not sure. I am just saying that there might be an opportunity for the new government to actually de-root the system, provided that they have a constitutional majority.
No Majority, No Regime Change
Some observers suggest that even a Tisza-led government could face significant institutional constraints stemming from constitutional engineering and entrenched loyalist networks. How should we conceptualize the possibility of electoral alternation without substantive regime transformation?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: This goes in line with my previous answer. Without a constitutional majority, what you will see is that there is likely to be governmental turnover, but there is not going to be a regime transformation. And then, there are different scenarios as to what will happen. If there is a constitutional majority, then we see a re-orientation or a re-democratization. If there is only governmental turnover without real regime transformation, what kind of room for maneuver does the new government have?
How do we conceptualize this? So this is definitely going to be an interesting case to analyze in terms of re-democratization attempts—whether they actually go deep or whether they are just going to hover at the surface, which we have seen before. We even had a study on this, on local governments, examining how they try to re-democratize even under a populist authoritarian regime. We might actually see something of this sort at the national level. But once again, the possible measures might be more confined if there is only a simple majority in Parliament, and that would definitely limit the options of the next government.
Loyalty And Shielding Protect Fidesz
Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán gives a speech to convince his respondents in Szeged on March 4, 2014.
Your work on populist resilience to corruption highlights how such regimes adapt to and withstand scandal. In Hungary today, which mechanisms—discursive reframing, institutional shielding, or partisan loyalty—appear most crucial in sustaining support for Fidesz?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: Given that the regime has reached its peak and is really a mature system, from a populist regime perspective, I would say, in line with our theoretical frame, that it is mostly the institutional shielding and the partisan loyalty that dominate at the moment. Let me give you an example, which is essentially a reflection of both. There is this huge scandal about the former governor of the National Bank (György Matolcsy) and his son. There is a scandal going around that hundreds of billions of forints were actually channeled out into private funds—essentially, they were just paid out to… we do not even necessarily know whom. We do know that the governor’s son really benefited from this. And what is happening now is that there is practically no police investigation going on, or, if there is, it is extremely slow. We do not really know what is happening. In the meantime, we already know that, for example, the governor’s son has tried to, or has already started to, ship his luxury car collection to Dubai, and these kinds of things.
So wealth is going out, and in the meantime, nothing is really happening. And nobody is really talking about the Matolcsy family, etc. So there is this partisan loyalty going on, and there is this institutional shielding, which does not allow these institutions to actually do anything about it. There is no prosecution going on. There might be some prosecution, but we do not really know why it is so limited, why it is so slow, why it is kept secret, and why they basically let the governor’s son do anything he pleases, given the fact that we know that hundreds of billions of forints were, in a sense, privatized. So, I do think that these two mechanisms are the most dominant ones.
Discursively, they do not even really try anymore. It is more like, “Well, we have nothing to do with the issue—let the institutions run their course,” but the institutions are not doing anything. So, it is just a sort of bogus narrative behind it.
What has really changed, on the other hand, is Péter Magyar’s rise in politics, because he is essentially an insider. And when he appeared, that was one of his biggest assets in politics, since this insider status was extremely relevant. When he talks about corruption claims against the government, it seems to mobilize anger much more effectively. This is what really matters here, because, on many issues, anger is a very strong motivational factor in politics, including in unseating incumbent governments. This is absolutely not a good feeling, I have to say, but it does trigger mobilization, and mobilization is key, obviously.
Peace Narrative Masks Polarization
The campaign has been strongly shaped by geopolitical narratives, particularly regarding Russia and Ukraine. Has Orbán’s positioning as a “peace-oriented” leader maintained its electoral appeal, or is his perceived proximity to Moscow becoming a source of political vulnerability?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: That’s not an easy question to answer. First of all, his portrayal of himself as “peace-oriented” is really just buying into his populist discourse of being a pro-peace person, while everybody else who does not agree with him is, by definition, pro-war. So, once again, you have this Manichean, moralistic kind of division within politics that populists are very fond of. Essentially, this type of division turns every political discussion and agenda point into a life-or-death situation. Here, it is literally portrayed as such: if we do not want this, then the next day, everybody is sent to the Ukrainian front and people will die there.
But I would not buy into this “peace-oriented leader” narrative at all. There is a columnist in one of the Hungarian weeklies who consistently describes Orbán as aggressor-oriented, and I think that is probably a better portrayal of what he actually is—without taking any normative position. If you ask what he means by peace, the government does not really have a clear idea of what peace would entail or how it should be achieved. In that sense, the aggressor-oriented description may be more accurate.
As for whether this narrative still works, I think it holds up quite well among the core electorate. We know from sociological and political studies that most of Orbán’s supporters come from the countryside, with lower levels of education and generally more limited economic means. Among these groups, the message still resonates. Talking about the war—through fearmongering, warmongering, and similar appeals—continues to be effective.
What they have also done quite effectively, and this is why they remain competitive, is to turn uncertainty around the war into anger. Studies on populism show that fear is not the main driver; anger is. Fear reflects uncertainty, whereas anger is directed—it needs a target. They have managed to convert uncertainty and fear into anger.
To some extent, President Zelensky also inadvertently contributed to this dynamic. A particular quote was picked up and amplified by pro-government media, portraying it as a threat to Orbán. This helped channel anger toward Zelensky and Ukraine.
They also continue to layer in additional discursive elements, such as claims that “they are taking your money.” Recently, the prime minister held town hall meetings across the country, where he accused protesters of siding with Ukraine and attempting to divert Hungarian resources there. This reflects a level of political rhetoric that is, frankly, quite unprecedented. Similarly, incidents such as damage to the Druzhba gas pipeline have been reframed as evidence that Ukraine is withholding Hungary’s energy supplies and weaponizing resources. This contributes to a constant, artificially orchestrated sense of anger directed at Ukraine. In that sense, the narrative still resonates with certain segments. There is some degree of creativity, but in terms of the broader narrative, they have not significantly shifted away from the war-centered discourse seen in 2022 and 2024.
Regarding Trump and Moscow, the situation is more complicated. Trump’s own actions—particularly the wars associated with his leadership—no longer support the earlier framing of him as a “pro-peace” figure. As a result, the government has largely stopped emphasizing this aspect and instead downplays it. Attempts to reinterpret such developments rhetorically have not been particularly convincing.
As for relations with Moscow, recent leaks concerning communications between Hungarian and Russian officials have raised questions. Depending on interpretation, these either reflect pragmatic diplomacy or suggest alignment with Russian interests, including the sharing of sensitive information.
Overall, both the Trump factor and the Russian connection appear to increase the government’s political vulnerability.
Trump Effect Mostly Symbolic
US President Donald Trump and Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán arrive for a working dinner at the NATO Summit in Brussels, Belgium on July 11, 2018. Photo: Gints Ivuskans / Dreamstime.
Hungary has long been embedded in a broader transnational network of right-wing populist actors. How significant is the “Trump effect” and Musk’s influence in this election, both in terms of symbolic validation and in reinforcing Orbán’s model of governance?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: I think it is really symbolic. I am not sure that, in terms of governance features, there is much there. Quite the reverse, I would say. It is really some American governors and high-ranking politicians who keep talking about copying this or that from Orbán, when it comes to, for example, dealing with LGBTQ issues in their states, etc. So, Orbán tries to position himself—and to some extent successfully—as a governance genius who should and could be copied by some of these international partners.
On the other hand, the extent to which they actually contribute to Orbán’s success is largely symbolic. As I said, the campaign is mainly about the war at this moment, so it is not really a question of whether there is transnational conservative endorsement or not—it does not matter that much. I do not see it that way. We had CPAC (the Conservative Political Action Conference) Hungary, which is a sort of mimic meeting of CPAC in the US where they invite right-wing politicians and intellectuals. It is a significant event. Just a couple of days ago, they announced that J.D. Vance, the US Vice President, is coming next Tuesday to Hungary. They probably wanted Trump to come but could not manage it, so it will be J.D. Vance. And the American government has already signaled that it supports Orbán’s re-election.
But, what matters most, once again, for the future—or for the short-term political room for maneuver of the government—is really the European partners. The EU and other European right-wing leaders are closely watching the election, because it could fundamentally change dynamics within the European Council and more generally within the integration process in the EU.
Hungary Tests Populism’s Limits
Finally, Professor Csehi, from a comparative perspective, what would each plausible outcome—a renewed Fidesz victory, a Tisza-led breakthrough, or a contested post-election scenario—tell us about the broader trajectory of populist rule in Europe and the capacity of democratic systems to dislodge entrenched illiberal incumbents?
Assoc. Prof. Robert Csehi: If Fidesz wins, this is still going to be an interesting scenario and an interesting political experience, which would tell us that, despite economic strains and despite the ideological fatigue that the government shows, and despite a strong challenger—a new challenger party emerging—the system still has some resilience. Then we would need to find out what actually triggered this resilience, or what made this resilience possible.
Now, this resilience, obviously, would send a message that electoral challenge is still possible, even with a populist regime that is extremely mature in its institutional design and structural features, etc. Therefore, none of these populist regimes are actually immune to a more systemic fatigue, and, if they want to survive, they need to be more creative in how they maintain the system.
But definitely, with a Tisza win, we would get very good information on how much democratic backsliding there actually was in the system, across different aspects. Most likely, this would generate immense knowledge that we could gain, and that would be extremely valuable for future studies. So I am very much looking forward to seeing what will happen. Those are my two cents on this point.
In this interview with ECPS, Dr. Thomas Carothers offers a nuanced reassessment of contemporary democratic backsliding, challenging dominant explanations that prioritize socioeconomic grievances over political agency. He argues that elite opportunism and institutional permissiveness are central drivers of democratic erosion, cautioning against overgeneralizing from Western experiences. Emphasizing that “when institutions fail, protest becomes the last line of democratic defense,” Dr. Carothers highlights the enduring role of civic mobilization in constraining authoritarian drift. At the same time, he resists declinist narratives, noting that democratic “guardrails” continue to hold in many contexts. The interview ultimately frames global democracy as entering a new phase of contested resilience, shaped by the dynamic interplay of elites, institutions, and citizen action.
At a time when democracies across the globe face mounting pressures—from intensifying polarization in the United States and Europe to the growing assertiveness of authoritarian powers—the question of how democratic systems erode, endure, and renew themselves has taken on renewed urgency. In this context, Dr. Thomas Carothers, Director of the Democracy, Conflict, and Governance Program and Harvey V. Fineberg Chair for Democracy Studies at the Carnegie Endowment for International Peace, offers a timely and nuanced intervention. Speaking to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Carothers challenges prevailing explanatory frameworks and calls for a more differentiated understanding of democratic backsliding and resilience.
Central to his analysis is a critique of the widely invoked “democracy-not-delivering” thesis. As he observes,“democratic backsliding has been spreading around the world for over 20 years, but we’re still struggling to figure out why it’s occurring,” urging “a bit of humility” from both scholars and policymakers. Rather than attributing democratic erosion primarily to socioeconomic grievances, Dr. Carothers emphasizes the role of “power holders—elites and elite agency” in actively constraining democratic choice. He cautions against generalizing from the American and European experience, noting that in many contexts, citizens are not opting for extremist alternatives but are instead “not being allowed to make those choices” due to authoritarian interventions.
This analytical shift foregrounds the importance of political agency and institutional dynamics over structural determinism. Dr. Carothers expresses skepticism toward rigid dichotomies, arguing that the “structure-versus-agency framework… is not a particularly useful way” to understand contemporary democratic crises. Instead, he advocates for context-sensitive analysis that recognizes the interplay between institutional vulnerabilities and strategic elite behavior.
It is within this framework that Dr. Carothers advances one of his most compelling claims: “When institutions fail, protest becomes the last line of democratic defense.” In settings where courts, media, and civil society are systematically undermined, public protest emerges as a residual yet powerful mechanism of accountability. While acknowledging that even protest can be violently suppressed—as in cases like Tanzania or Nicaragua—he underscores that, in many democracies, mass mobilization continues to function as a critical constraint on executive overreach.
At the same time, Dr. Carothers resists overly pessimistic narratives. While democratic backsliding persists, he notes that “the rapid wave of backsliding has slowed somewhat,” and that in numerous cases institutional “guardrails have been holding up.” Drawing on comparative examples from Brazil, Senegal, and beyond, he highlights the capacity of civic mobilization and institutional resilience to counteract authoritarian drift.
Taken together, this interview situates contemporary democratic challenges within a broader landscape of contestation, adaptation, and uneven resilience. Rather than signaling an inevitable decline, Dr. Carothers suggests the emergence of a more complex equilibrium—one in which democratic erosion and renewal coexist, and where the future of democracy will depend on the dynamic interaction between elites, institutions, and citizens.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Dr. Thomas Carothers, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
We Still Don’t Fully Understand Democratic Backsliding
Figure from the V-Dem Institute Democracy Report 2026.
Dr. Carothers, welcome. Let me begin with the broader picture: In your recent work, you challenge the “democracy-not-delivering” thesis by emphasizing elite opportunism and institutional permissiveness over socioeconomic failure. In light of current developments—from democratic strain in the United States to governance crises elsewhere—how does this shift reshape dominant explanatory frameworks, and what does it imply for the balance between structural and agency-based accounts?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: I appreciate this broad question. It’s surprising if we step back. Democratic backsliding has been spreading around the world for over 20 years, but we’re still struggling to figure out why it’s occurring. It’s interesting, and in a way surprising, that we haven’t really figured it out yet, and that there isn’t as much consensus as you might think there would be. I start with that. I think a bit of humility for all of us is in order here. If the policy community is looking to experts and saying, “Give us some answers,” I’m not sure the expert community is doing all that well, and I count myself in that.
But I would start by saying that, in a broad sense, Americans and Europeans—who have been experiencing a lot of democratic uncertainty and tremors, and in the case of the United States, some real backsliding in the last 5–10 years—are tending to take a pattern of events in their own countries and turn that into a very general explanation that I don’t think works very well in many places. What do I mean by that?
In the United States and Europe, broadly speaking, what you have seen over the last 20 years are societies where economic growth has slowed. A lot of people are angry about that, especially middle classes who don’t feel they are doing very well. At the same time, there has been significant sociocultural change in the form of immigration and broader progressive shifts across these societies. It turns out that many people are uncomfortable with that. So, many people are not happy economically, they feel quite unsettled socio-culturally, and in some cases they are opting for politicians or parties outside the mainstream, on both the right and the left. They are moving away from conventional center-left and center-right parties toward alternatives at the extremes, and that is unsettling for democracy.
But this is not a good explanation for what is happening with democratic backsliding in many other parts of the world. Let me take one case: Tanzania. Tanzania was a kind of so-so democracy in Africa—not very democratic, but not very autocratic—for a fairly long time.
Western Explanations Misread Global Democratic Decline
In the last year, however, it has undergone severe backsliding. There was an election, and people challenged the president, seeking some change. The president and her team essentially stole the election. When people protested, she cracked down in an unprecedented way. Hundreds of people were killed by security services. That is democratic backsliding. It had nothing to do with the Tanzanian middle class choosing alternatives at the extremes. They simply wanted decent reform and governance. What we see instead is a predatory power holder hanging onto power and violently suppressing dissent.
This is similar to what we see in Nicaragua, where Daniel Ortega, over the last 10 years, has been challenged because he governs for the benefit of himself, his family, and a small circle of allies. When large-scale protests erupted in 2018, there was a severe crackdown—violence, repression, and more.
So, taking the American-European experience and assuming that this must be what is happening everywhere—that people are choosing the “wrong” politicians because they are unhappy with democracies not delivering—is misleading. Yes, people are unhappy in many countries, but in large parts of the world they are not choosing extremes; rather, they are choosing democratic alternatives and are not being allowed to make those choices because power holders—elites and elite agency—block them.
For this reason, I am very uncomfortable with the structure-versus-agency distinction. If we come in as analysts and say, “I think it’s mostly structure” or “I think it’s mostly agency,” we risk oversimplifying. Instead, we should take each case on its own terms, try to understand what is happening, and relax the insistence on categorizing it as one or the other. It is usually a combination of both.
Moreover, the concept of “structure” often covers a range of analytic ambiguities. Do we mean religious divisions? Immigration patterns? Social class structures? The term itself is quite vague.
In short—though I realize this is a long opening—the American-European experience is quite different from that of many other parts of the world. In those contexts, democratic backsliding often involves predatory power holders cracking down and steamrolling countervailing institutions and public protests. And the structure-versus-agency framework, in my view, is not a particularly useful way to approach such situations.
Public Protest Remains the Hardest Constraint on Elite Power
No Kings protest in New York City, USA, October 18, 2025—demonstrators rally against authoritarian policies and corruption in Donald Trump’s administration. Photo: Dreamstime.
If democratic erosion is primarily elite-driven, how should we reconceptualize citizen agency today—especially in highly polarized societies like the US and parts of Europe—where publics may appear simultaneously mobilized, constrained, and politically fragmented?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: If we recognize the power of elites to overturn constraints on their power—which is what’s happening in a lot of places, and it startles us when it happens, say, in India—we had tended to think that the rule of law in India was pretty well established. India had a very good court system for a long time. It had a high degree of judicial independence and a judicial excellence. Of course, there is a lot at the lower levels, a lot of backlogs, and all that kind of stuff, but India was a country with pretty solid rule of law in certain ways.
However, Modi has been able to undercut that in ways that have really unsettled people in India and that they did not expect. That’s through elite agency—through structure, it’s through his determined decision-making to think, I can say this, I can do that, I can put these people here, I can defy this—that’s elite agency in action.
Given that, what we have to think is: wow, the power of elite agency in many cases is formidable. And what can stop that? What can stop that is a very strong fortification of those norms, and also people protesting when that is happening, and people saying, we won’t take this. That’s why I focus so much on protests, because when elites steamroller the different institutions, they undercut the courts, they close down the media, they strangle civil society, they go through all the independent sources of power, strangle them one by one, asphyxiate them, cut them off.
The one thing they have trouble overcoming is public protest, because it’s not really an institution they can just undercut. Now, they can, once it happens, as in Tanzania or Nicaragua, get police and security services of different types to come out, detain people, arrest them, beat them up, and kill them. Unfortunately, they can override public protest. But that is, fortunately, at least in some democracies, a line that leaders don’t cross. They don’t go that far, and protests therefore have a really powerful effect, as in Nepal or Bangladesh, where protesters were able to overcome attempts to stop them, and they pushed for some really democratic change. So elite agency—the power of it—should make us think hard about what powers can stop it, and what we can do, if we care about democracy, to try to fortify those things that can limit elite agency.
Economic Development Still Stabilizes Democracy
To what extent does ongoing backsliding in relatively affluent democracies challenge modernization theory’s assumption that economic development stabilizes democracy, particularly under conditions of cultural backlash and identity-driven politics?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: It has certainly been a surprise for many political scientists that the United States is experiencing significant backsliding. The recent V-Dem report on democracy in the world charted an 18-point decline for the United States, which is a very large drop in the last year. The Freedom House report shows only a 3-point decline, but even 3 points is quite significant in the Freedom House methodology. So, we do have the case of the United States, which raises questions about the crucial work that Adam Przeworski did—showing the relationship between the level of economic development and the absence of democratic breakdown—but I think we need to be very careful.
The United States is the only wealthy established democracy—other than perhaps Israel. By “established,” I mean a pre-1989 democracy. I am not including Hungary and Poland in that category, as they are post-1989. Among long-established democracies at a certain level of wealth, it is the only one that has experienced significant backsliding in the last 10 to 15 years.
It is true that many Europeans feel unsettled by the rise of illiberal political forces in their societies, but none of those countries is experiencing significant backsliding yet. Now, it may come—there is no question that it might. So, I do not think modernization theory, or the idea that once you reach a certain level of economic development you are bound to be more stable democratically, has been overturned by events. Rather, I think the United States is a head-scratching case as to why this is happening there. What is more interesting analytically is not to discard modernization theory, but instead to ask: what is it about the United States that is so different from all the other wealthy established democracies—Canada, Australia, Ireland, the Netherlands, Italy, Greece, and so on—that makes it so democratically fragile at this moment?
So, modernization theory, or at least the theory about the relationship between economic development and democracy, is still holding. However, we do have this powerful and unusual case of the United States, which requires very careful thought.
Executive Aggrandizement, Not Populism, Drives Backsliding
Nested dolls depicting authoritarian and populist leaders Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and Recep Tayyip Erdogan displayed among souvenirs in Moscow on July 7, 2018. Photo: Shutterstock.
How can we analytically disentangle populism as a discursive logic from executive aggrandizement as an institutional process, especially when contemporary leaders employ formally legal mechanisms to incrementally erode democratic norms?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: Wow, there are a lot of questions here; they’re very compact. Executive aggrandizement, which is the core pattern of backsliding that we see in many places, is where an executive amasses overweening power that is able to subvert the rest of the democratic system. Executive aggrandizement is the tool by which de-democratization and greater autocratization are occurring in a whole bunch of countries. But that’s not the same as populism, and we have to be really careful here. Some of these leaders who are carrying out executive aggrandizement are populists. Hugo Chávez was such a leader—he was elected, dismantled democracy, and engaged in executive aggrandizement; he was populist to the core.
Vladimir Putin has been aggrandizing the power of the executive in Russia over the last 25 years. In my view, he is not a populist. President Putin came from within the system. A populist is someone who comes from outside the system, divides, and says, “I’m going to attack the elite; I represent the people.” President Putin was not about the people versus the elite. He was the security service rising back up and asserting its power over Russian life—hardly a populist. He rode around on a horse once with his shirt off and had a picture taken, which some Russians felt made him look pretty good. I guess you could call that a populist technique. But I hardly think of him as a populist.
President Xi in China has been carrying out executive aggrandizement by removing term limits and by attempting, for example, to bring the military under greater political control. It is classic executive aggrandizement. Again, President Xi is not someone from outside the system who is dividing the country into old elites and the new people. He is the system. He rose up—his father was a grandee—he is a very well-integrated, well-embedded part of the system.
Therefore, executive aggrandizement is a process that leaders are using, both elected leaders and non-elected leaders, as in the case of President Xi. It is a form of taking over systems that is different from military coups and from state collapse, and so forth. It is the process that is defining democratic backsliding and autocratization in many countries. It is not the same thing as populism. Some populists engage in executive aggrandizement, not all. Some figures who engage in executive aggrandizement are populist, not all. So, it is very important to keep these concepts fairly clearly separate from each other.
Deep Structural Divides Drive America’s Polarization
In the current US context—marked by renewed Trumpism, institutional contestation, and electoral polarization—should we interpret developments as a case of “backsliding from within,” or as the exposure of long-standing structural vulnerabilities in American democracy?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: That gets to the question of what constitutes a structural vulnerability. The United States has some very basic fissures in society that have long been at the root of severe episodes of polarization in American life. The country has experienced waves of extreme polarization throughout its history. The Civil War was a period of intense polarization, and the country later moved beyond it. There was less polarization afterwards. The 1930s and the New Deal were also tremendously polarizing, followed by a period of lower polarization through World War II. In the 1960s and 1970s, polarization began increasing again and has reached very high levels over the past 10 to 20 years. So, the United States has this recurrent pattern of extreme polarization.
These waves tend to be rooted in the same underlying fissures—three in particular. One is a racial divide, which has been deeply divisive, not only in Black-white terms but also in a broader sense between those who support a more inclusive society and those who prefer a less inclusive one.
Second, religion in politics. The United States is, in many ways, a fairly religious society, and there has long been debate over the role of religion in public and political life. This debate continues today and remains highly divisive. Some believe religion should play a greater role, while others advocate for a clearer separation between religion and the state.
Third, the question of federal versus state control. Should the country have a strong federal government, or should power reside primarily with the states? This debate goes back to the founding of the Republic and was deeply embedded in the Civil War. It has remained a persistent and contested issue.
So, the United States has these structures. You could describe racial realities as a structure. You could consider federal versus state power as a structure. Religion—can that be called a structure? In some sense, yes. These factors provide a foundation that is distinct from Europe, where all three are generally less pronounced as basic fissures. They help explain why the United States, unlike many European countries, has experienced recurring waves of polarization.
I think what we are seeing in the United States today is the product of the latest episode of extreme polarization. Is this due to structure or agency? As I noted, there are underlying structural features of American society that contribute to the current divisions. At the same time, elite agency is clearly playing a role. When people discuss polarization in the United States, they often point to specific political actors—this politician did this, that politician did that—as polarizing forces. So, elite agency is also part of the picture.
When Politics Turns Tribal, Democracy Suffers
To what degree does affective polarization—visible in both US and European politics—function as a permissive condition for democratic erosion, enabling citizens to tolerate or justify norm violations by co-partisan leaders?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: Affective polarization—when one side basically hates the other, doesn’t trust it, and doesn’t think it should be allowed to come to power—is no longer just “I don’t like their tax policy.” Instead, it becomes, “I think they are bad Americans and would do terrible things to the country if they came to power, and I don’t want my daughter or son marrying one of them.” Affective polarization of that type is incredibly corrosive.
Because if it is based on the idea that the people on the other side—I hate them, I don’t trust them, and I think they are going to do harm to the country if they run it—then, when an election comes along, I may say: well, the choice is between a leader who is tidy-whitey and is going to follow every democratic norm but might let the other side in, versus someone who is really strong and willing to break the dishes needed to stay in power and keep those dangerous other people out. In that case, unfortunately, people trade off democratic norms for the sake of protecting their tribe, as people like to say.
In the United States, the very distinguished political scientist at Yale University, Milan Svolik, has done fundamental work showing that under conditions of extreme polarization, people are willing to trade away democratic norms for the sake of protecting their side.
Citizen Mobilization Can Halt Democratic Backsliding
Large protests demand the resignation of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s government as part of the Anti-Quota Movement and Bangladesh Quota Reform Protests. Thousands took to the streets in Dhaka, Bangladesh, on August 4, 2024. Photo: M.D. Sabbir.
Your work suggests that protests serve both as indicators of democratic strain and as potential agents of renewal. How should we theorize this dual role in light of recent protest waves in the United States, the United Kingdom, and other countries?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: At Carnegie, we run something called the Global Protest Tracker, which tries to keep track of every major anti-government protest in the world. If you go to it, you’ll see a list, and you can click on a country, and it turns out, oh, look, the Philippines just had major protests last month. Why? What were they about? And so forth. So, we’ve been watching protests very closely for a while. We’ve been running the tracker for seven years, and you learn a lot just by reading it every month.
Our researchers produce—Judy Lee, who works with us, is our main researcher on this—a tremendous memo every month analyzing the latest protests around the world. And you see that a good share of protests is about democracy. They are about citizens responding to executive overreach, often in the form of a stolen or compromised election. Sometimes they respond to attempts by a leader to remove a constitutional limit on power – “I’m going to serve a third or fourth term, no matter what the Constitution says. My ally at the Supreme Court will say that’s perfectly fine.”
So, citizens are protesting a great deal about democratic backsliding. Those protests are a sign of democratic strain, as you put it in your question, or even a sign of democratic breakdown. In many cases, they are also a major source of hope for stopping that process. They have stopped a number of efforts to extend constitutional term limits and have blocked some attempts to manipulate elections, although unfortunately not in other cases, such as Georgia or Belarus.
Protests like these reflect democratic strain, but they are also an embodiment of hope for something better. In more extreme cases, such as Bangladesh—extreme in the sense that events went very far—protesters swept out an autocratic regime and called for a return to a period when the country was at least reasonably democratic. Protests are key here.
Of course, many protests today are driven by economic grievances—fuel prices rise, people cannot afford to feed their families, and they protest about that, understandably. But there are linkages. In many places, protests are sparked by some kind of economic or governance trigger. In Serbia, for example, a specific incident occurred—a train station roof collapse, if I recall correctly. People then took to the streets and said, “This government stinks, it ought to go—I’ve had it with this regime.” A protest that begins over a particular trigger can then snowball into a broader anti-regime movement that pushes a government out or at least tries to.
Nepal was somewhat similar—an initial spark related to a government attempt to limit access to social media platforms. People began protesting, and one thing led to another, and soon the prime minister was out.
So, protests are critical in this age—particularly in an era of hard-headed leaders dismantling many of the institutions that might otherwise constrain them. As I said before, protests are critical here.
Some Movements Make Democracy More Exclusionary
In these contexts, how can we distinguish between mobilizations that deepen democratic accountability—such as rights-based or institutional reform protests—and those that instead amplify anti-system, populist, or illiberal dynamics?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: Be careful about that distinction. You can have an anti-system protest that is quite rights-based. For example, the Serbian protests have turned into anti-system protests, but they are also based on the idea that there should be greater rights. Nepal was similar – “Don’t take away our right to access this information”—and that, too, turned into an anti-system protest.
Now, as you are alluding to, there are protests that, if you look at their goals or the issues that have stirred them up, may be quite different. There might be an anti-immigrant protest—an immigrant is involved in a crime, and people go out and protest, saying, “We hate these people who look like this or talk like this.” That is not especially good for democracy; it could shrink democracy and make it more exclusive.
Or people may protest against efforts to make vaccines widely available, arguing that they are dangerous and opposing public health policies. That could be described as rights-based in some sense, but it is probably not going to do much to further democracy in that country.
There are certainly many protests that pursue goals other than what we would consider core democratic rights. It is more a matter of looking at the cause—what people are trying to advance through the protest—and then deciding whether it is pro-democratic or whether it is pushing democracy in a more exclusive or limited direction.
Decentralization Empowers Protest but Weakens Strategy
With the growing prevalence of decentralized, leaderless movements, does organizational horizontality enhance democratic inclusivity and resilience, or does it risk weakening strategic coherence and long-term political impact?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: A lot of protest movements are what analysts like to call leaderless protests these days, and leaderless protests are often a reality in countries that are fairly repressive, where people are afraid or unable to form leadership councils or to organize in a very visible way, and so they are leaderless by necessity. Some are more leaderless; others are leaderless simply because that is how they arose. They may begin with a group of students who are very unhappy about something, and someone texts, “Let’s all meet at the square at 9 p.m.,” and people surge out and start protesting. Then someone else says, “Tomorrow at 3 o’clock in the afternoon, let’s meet here,” and it starts to grow. The protest becomes a movement, but there was no real guiding council at any point.
Because of technology that facilitates organization in many countries, this encourages a decentralization of authority within protest movements, which can make for quick, unpredictable, and, in some cases, powerful protests. But as you suggest in your question, once a protest is successful, there comes a point when demands have to be formulated. There also comes a point when negotiations with those in power become necessary, or when something must happen to focalize the discontent into a platform for specific change.
I remember Tahrir Square during the protests in Egypt and the Arab Spring. It was a surge of people. There were many civic groups involved, so it was not entirely leaderless, but there were many different actors trying to mobilize. At a certain point, the military said to the protesters, “We need to talk seriously about what is going to happen with Mubarak—we are ready to talk. With whom do we talk?”
A group of people did emerge within the protest. One of them happened to be a friend of mine, an Egyptian. I remember being in my office in Washington, picking up the phone, and it was him calling me from Cairo. He said, “I’m with a group of protesters, and we’ve been asked to go talk to the military. What should we ask for? What is our demand with respect to Mubarak?” That was the moment when I thought that what had started as a kind of leaderless protest—or a protest with many different elements—was now focalizing. The military wanted to negotiate with someone and say, “If we agree that Mubarak is going to step down and go to Sharm el-Sheikh or somewhere else, will you leave Tahrir Square and go home?” They needed to negotiate with someone.
It is hard to negotiate with a leaderless octopus. So, there is a moment when these movements have to coalesce, and then, if they are successful—as in Nepal, where the government is out—who is in charge? Something has to happen. Leaderlessness can be beneficial for a while, but then things need to move forward, and there needs to be a concretization of the movement into some form of institutionalized action and development.
How States Respond to Protest Defines Democracy
‘March for Europe’ demonstrations in support of EU integration and membership at Liberty Square in Tbilisi, Georgia, on October 20, 2024. Photo: Mirko Kuzmanovic.
How do different state responses—from accommodation and co-optation in liberal democracies to repression in more authoritarian settings—shape protest trajectories, and what do these patterns reveal about regime adaptability?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: There is a pretty sharp line. A protest occurs in a country; it is large, it challenges the system, and it asks for fundamental change. And here is the line: do you turn the security services on the protest and say, “We are going to detain you, arrest you, beat you up, and kill you”? Or do you say, “We are a democracy, people have rights here, and you have the right to protest, and we will talk with you and try to address your concerns so that you will go away?” At that moment, when the regime really has its back to the wall and protests are surging, do they respond with repression, or do they respond through negotiation, patience, or some other non-repressive approach? That is a defining test of whether you are in a democracy or not.
In Georgia—Georgia was a democracy for a while—protests emerged and were then fueled by the alleged stealing of elections by Georgian Dream. The political system, or the regime, began cracking down on this protest movement, detaining and arresting people and allowing a certain degree of violence. That is a sign that Georgia was moving off the democratic path and into a more repressive direction.
This is a defining moment—how protests are treated—and I pay very close attention to it. There is not always a clear threshold: sometimes three protesters are killed—is that enough? But in extreme cases like Iran, where tens of thousands appear to have been killed by security services, that is a clear sign of a profoundly repressive, anti-democratic regime in which democracy has been entirely suffocated. Georgia is suffocating its democracy. Belarus has asphyxiated and suffocated its democracy.
Whereas other countries have remained on the other side of that line. Hungary, for example, has had significant protests over the last 5–10 years. Many people are unhappy with the Fidesz government, but it has not responded with outright repression. It has taken many steps to undercut civic groups, tilt the playing field, and use state resources for party purposes. These are anti-democratic actions, but it has not turned the guns on protesters, because Hungary is still on this side of that repressive line. So that line is very fundamental to understanding the overall trajectory of a country.
Broad Mobilization Creates a Firewall Against Authoritarianism
Your research highlights the importance of civil society mobilization and opposition coordination in reversing backsliding. How do these factors interact with institutional legacies in determining whether democratic erosion can be halted or reversed?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: It relates to what I’m saying. Civil society mobilization is critical in many places, such as Brazil in 2022. Bolsonaro had been in power for four years; he was an anti-democratic leader, disrespectful of democratic norms. He sought to undercut the courts, and there were real doubts about whether he would respect an electoral outcome. Later evidence suggested that he was trying to overturn the electoral result through coup planning and so forth.
In early 2022, as elections were on the horizon, there was very broad-scale citizen mobilization. It was civic mobilization, which included a political role for established political actors, but it was civic in the sense that it brought together a broad tent of people with many different views, united around the idea that Brazil should reject an undemocratic path and pursue a democratic one. Most of those involved believed this meant voting for Lula da Silva, but it was nonetheless a civic mobilization that proved quite effective in creating a firewall against the de-democratization of Brazil.
Poland was somewhat similar before the 2023 elections. There was extensive civic mobilization, with people frustrated by the PiS government and its anti-democratic characteristics.
Civic mobilization in cases of significant backsliding is very important. In the United States, you are seeing an increasing number of protests. Recently, there was another round of the “No Kings” protests; I think up to 8 million people were involved last time. That is a significant number—about 2–3 percent of the US population—engaged in protest activity. This kind of broad-based civic mobilization is often a critical element in pushing back against democratic erosion.
Democracy Support Faces a Moment of Profound Rethink
In an international environment shaped by intensifying great-power competition, declining Western commitment, rising authoritarian influence, and intensifying geopolitical competition and conflicts such as the Iran crisis, and the global diffusion of authoritarian practices, how should democracy promotion be reimagined—does it require normative re-legitimation, institutional reinvention, or a fundamentally new model of transnational democratic support?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: International democracy support needs a lot of things. International democracy support had been struggling for 10 or 15 years in the face of democratic backsliding in the world. Backsliding was happening, and people were saying that whatever amount of democracy support we were giving—both the amount and the nature of it—was not solving the problem. Backsliding was still spreading. What we were doing was not enough, and maybe it was also not the right thing.
There was already a lot of questioning of international democracy support and then came the arrival to power of Donald Trump in January 2025. He and his team rapidly put an end to almost all US democracy aid that was directly sponsored by the government. The United States had been, by far, the largest funder of such aid in the world. It simply walked away from that field and said: no election monitoring support—we do not do that anymore; support to civic groups—we do not do that anymore; we are going to close down our public broadcasting in other places; human rights support—no, we do not do that anymore. So that was a tremendous blow to the field of international democracy support.
Unfortunately, in that same year, a number of European governments, for different reasons, also faced significant pressure on their aid budgets. There was a great deal of strain on those budgets, partly because of the need to allocate resources to support Ukraine in its war against Russia. As a result, aid budgets in Europe were tight, and 2025 was a bad year for international democracy support.
Now the field, a year on, is in a period of reassessment. My colleague Richard Youngs and I, together with Rachel Kleinfeld, are working on this issue. We published a paper last year titled What Future for International Democracy Support?, and we are preparing an updated version later this year to assess how the field is evolving.
What we are finding so far is that there is a great deal of ferment. You mentioned the need for institutional rejuvenation, normative re-legitimation, and new methods. People are actively asking these questions: what narratives should we use to describe democracy more effectively? Given the sharp decline in available aid dollars and euros, we need new forms of engagement that are more localized and more network-oriented. We need to move away from the traditional model of “the West has the answers, and the rest of the world has the problems.” Today, everyone faces challenges. How can we work on a more horizontal basis? How can we move beyond the notion of aid as a one-way process and instead recognize that we are all confronting shared difficulties?
There is a great deal happening in the field, but it is constrained by limited resources. It is on the back foot and still in a state of shock after developments over the past year or two. Many people are out of work, many are frustrated, and many are disappointed. The field is therefore in a period of reconsolidation.
At the same time, it is not disappearing. Many organizations and democratic governments still want to support democracy beyond their borders. There are also regional organizations in Africa, Latin America, Europe, and elsewhere that maintain pro-democratic norms. There are multilateral institutions at the global level that remain engaged, as well as numerous international non-governmental organizations. So, there is still a substantial international democracy support community, but it is undergoing a profound process of rethinking and reorientation.
Democratic Backsliding Has Slowed—but Risks Remain
Protesters protest for the freedom of Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva on Avenida Paulista in São Paulo, Brazil on April 7, 2019. Photo: Cris Faga.
And lastly, Dr. Carothers, looking ahead, given the coexistence of democratic erosion, persistent polarization, and emerging forms of resistance, do you foresee a trajectory of continued democratic decline, adaptive resilience, or the emergence of a new equilibrium of “contested democracy” in the coming decade?
Dr. Thomas Carothers: That last question of yours is common in the final questions that I get, which are basically, you’re walking across a bridge as a democracy specialist—do you jump off into the river in despair, or do you keep walking and think, we’ll probably come through this? But you put it much more elegantly than I just did.
I think over the last 5 to 7 years, the rapid wave of backsliding has slowed somewhat. There is still a lot of backsliding occurring, but there are also a number of countries where guardrails have been holding up. Brazil was an important case of that in 2022–23. One could name many others. Senegal managed to withstand a fairly concerted attack on its democratic institutions by its president in the last couple of years. The Philippines came out of the Duterte period. The successor leader is not the world’s most democratic leader, but he is not Duterte. Bangladesh is undergoing some kind of renovation. Bolivia came through a period in which the government was trying to undercut democratic norms and institutions. So, there are many countries where democracy is holding up.
I was in a conversation the other day with the research director at Freedom House, who made the important observation that about three-quarters of the countries in the world do not change their democratic status year in, year out. We tend to think, it’s like our phone, where every app is jiggling and moving around. The world is not really like that. There is actually a fair amount of stability, and the number of cases that are moving rapidly in one direction or the other is quite small. So, I’m walking across the bridge—I’m not jumping off—but, it’s going to be difficult.
In this insightful ECPS interview, Professor Johannes Andersen offers a sobering diagnosis of Denmark’s evolving political landscape following the 2026 general election. He argues that the country is undergoing a profound structural transformation marked by voter de-alignment, declining trust, and increasingly fragmented party competition. While voters remain loosely anchored within traditional blocs, many no longer feel represented by specific parties, resulting in growing electoral volatility. At the same time, political parties are shifting from long-term representation toward short-term, issue-driven strategies. As Professor Andersen warns, this dynamic creates a paradox: expanded democratic choice coexists with rising confusion and distrust—pointing to a more unstable, yet still functioning, democratic system.
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Johannes Andersen, Professor of Political Science at Aalborg University, offers a sobering and analytically rich assessment of Denmark’s evolving political landscape in the aftermath of the 2026 general election. Professor Andersen’s diagnosis captures a deeper structural transformation unfolding beneath the surface of what has long been considered one of Europe’s most stable democratic systems.
In the wake of Denmark’s closely contested 2026 general election, the country stands at a pivotal political moment—marked by fragmentation, the resurgence of the populist radical right, and renewed geopolitical tensions over Greenland. While the campaign was driven largely by domestic concerns such as the cost-of-living crisis and migration, the results also point to deeper shifts in political trust, voter alignments, and the structure of democratic competition. Professor Andersen’s analysis situates these developments within a broader transformation of democratic politics, emphasizing that Denmark is no longer experiencing episodic volatility but a sustained process of structural change.
At the core of his argument lies the claim that both voters and political parties are undergoing simultaneous and mutually reinforcing transformations. As he underscores, “we are witnessing really fundamental changes in this system,” driven by evolving voter attitudes and shifting party strategies. Voters, while still loosely anchored within traditional bloc structures, are increasingly detached from specific party identities – “voters no longer feel represented by a political party”—resulting in unprecedented levels of electoral fluidity. The fact that roughly half of the electorate has changed party allegiance in recent elections, with even higher volatility anticipated, illustrates the depth of this de-alignment.
At the same time, political parties have adapted by moving away from long-term representational commitments toward short-term, issue-driven competition. Rather than defending stable constituencies, they increasingly seek to maximize electoral appeal through targeted policy responses – “we are the best at solving this problem”—thereby reinforcing a political logic in which responsiveness replaces representation. This transformation is particularly visible in the growing centrality of migration politics, which now structures competition across both left and right.
Professor Andersen also highlights the gradual erosion of the welfare state as a unifying political project. Once the cornerstone of Danish social democracy, it has receded from the center of political discourse, replaced by fragmented issue politics and competing populist narratives. In this context, even strong executive performance does not necessarily translate into electoral gains, as demonstrated by the limited political returns from Denmark’s handling of the Greenland crisis.
Taken together, these dynamics point to what Professor Andersen describes as a new and inherently unstable political equilibrium—one defined by expanded voter choice but declining trust. As he cautions, “we are developing a new political culture based on growing confusion among voters,” where democratic dynamism coexists with increasing alienation.
The interview that follows explores these tensions in depth, beginning with the question of whether Denmark’s fragmentation reflects a temporary fluctuation or a more profound transformation of democratic politics.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Johannes Andersen, revised so slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Politics Has Shifted from Representation to Competition for Voters Across Issues
The Danish nation has cast its votes in the parliamentary elections. Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Johannes Andersen, welcome. Let me begin with a foundational question:The 2026 election produced a highly fragmented outcome that appears to unsettle Denmark’s historically stable party system. Drawing on your work on political trust and voter attitudes, would you interpret this as a conjunctural fluctuation, or as evidence of a deeper process of de-alignment—where traditional cleavages and partisan loyalties are being replaced bymore individualized, volatile, and contingent forms of political engagement?
Professor Johannes Andersen: I would go for the second half of your question, because we are witnessing really fundamental changes in this system, and this has been going on for 10-20 years—perhaps even longer. There are two structural elements here that are very important. The first is that voters have changed their way of looking at politics, partly because political parties, at the same time, have changed their way of thinking about politics, developing politics, and approaching these questions more broadly. So, we have two structural elements that are both changing, and they are intertwined. I will try to explain that a little further.
When it comes to the voters, in the last election, half of the Danish electorate voted for a new political party. They changed their position in that sense. But most of them are still located within the blocs we know: the red bloc, or socialist bloc, and the blue bloc, the liberal or conservative bloc. So, voters are still, to a very large degree, positioned within these blocs. But they are changing parties within the blocs. As I mentioned, half of the voters changed their party in 2022. This time, my guess is that even more people—perhaps 55 percent of the voters—will change political parties.
So, in a way, you can see that voters no longer feel represented by a political party. This is one aspect of the fundamental change we are dealing with: people are becoming more confused and more insecure. They may still have a basic feeling that they are red or blue, but they are no longer linked to a particular political party.
That means that when election time comes, you see a great many voters searching for guidance. Last time, in 2022, up to 70 percent of voters used those tests published in newspapers, where they try to determine which party they should vote for. And many of them, on their first attempt, simply refused to choose the party the test suggested. But this is actually revealing. It points to a fundamental change: the feeling that one is not represented by a political party. That has changed profoundly for voters.
On the other hand, we have the political parties which are no longer oriented toward a particular group they want to defend, fight for, and help build a better society for. They are not trying to represent such groups in the best way they can. Instead, they are trying to compete for voters. They are becoming broader and broader in their appeal, and they are becoming better and better at identifying what a particular group wants. Then they propose political measures accordingly: we are the best at solving this problem; we are the best at solving that problem.
When it comes to issues, for example, water has been very important in the 2026 election. It could be pollution of the water. It could be the question of an ageing population—how should we deal with that? Or it could be the rising prices in the shops, where parties propose giving people a check, an amount of money they can use to buy groceries, especially food.
So, political parties are becoming more and more occupied with single issues, rather than with any structural or strategic project aimed at defending particular groups. On the one hand, then, we have voters who are becoming more insecure and who do not feel represented in any deeper sense. On the other hand, we have political parties that are increasingly eager to win more and more voters, no matter what.
And one of the issues that has become especially important for political parties—both in the red and blue, blocs—is immigration. The immigration question has become central even for the Social Democrats, and now also for the Socialist People’s Party, which is a left-wing party. They are becoming more and more interested in signaling that they do not want immigrants, especially those with a Muslim background. This issue has become very important for all of them, and they are now in competition over who is most eager to throw people out if they are involved in any kind of illegal activity—or perhaps even just visible Muslim religious activity. In that sense, they are eager to expel them, or even to throw them out.
The immigration issue—and especially immigration from Muslim countries—is, in a way, central. All these other issues they deal with—wanting to give people more money so they can buy food, wanting clean water, and so on—are linked to the immigration question in one way or another. They have to make sure that this does not become a way of scaring people. This is the fundamental structural situation in Denmark: on the one hand, people feel unrepresented; on the other hand, political parties are no longer truly interested in representing anyone. This is the issue, the structural issue, for understanding many of the details.
The Welfare State Has Faded from the Center of Danish Politics
Denmark votes in parliamentary elections in Copenhagen, Kastrup, Denmark, on November 1, 2022. Voters head to polling stations to cast their ballots in the general election. Photo: Francis Joseph Dean / Dean Pictures / Dreamstime.
The electoral decline of the Social Democrats raises questions about the durability of catch-all party strategies. To what extent does this trajectory reflect not only the exhaustion of social democratic “big tent” politics under conditions of late modernity, but also a broader erosion of long-term voter attachments and collective identities that historically underpinned social democratic dominance?
Professor Johannes Andersen: I have reflected quite a bit on this question, because it opens up many important dimensions. One of the great strengths of the Social Democratic Party has been its development of the central idea of welfare rights. Citizenship has been understood not only in political and democratic terms, but also in terms of welfare-based social citizenship. The Social Democrats were able, as a strategic defense of workers and society more broadly, to build and expand the welfare state in increasingly comprehensive ways.
However, almost without anyone clearly noticing, this perspective has gradually been left out of both their political practice and public debate. Both the Social Democrats themselves and the organizations behind them, such as the unions, have become less focused on the welfare state—although unions and civil society actors still tend to emphasize universal welfare rights more than political parties do. At the same time, social organizations continue to defend welfare rights, but they face an increasingly difficult struggle. This is largely because the Social Democrats, historically the central defenders of the welfare state, have shifted their focus, becoming more and more preoccupied with the immigration issue.
This creates a highly uncertain electoral trajectory. On the one hand, the Social Democrats could regain support in future elections, perhaps reaching around 30 percent—high by contemporary standards, though still below their historical peak of around 40 percent, when they were the dominant force in defending the welfare state. On the other hand, they could also decline further, potentially falling to 15 percent or even lower. Such volatility is now entirely conceivable.
What we see, then, is a party increasingly focused on maximizing its electoral support by targeting specific issues. The Social Democrats, like other parties, recognize that voters can be mobilized around short-term concerns. If they can create the impression that they are capable of addressing these issues effectively, they may gain support—but they are doing so in direct competition with a growing number of parties.
This helps explain why there are now 12 political parties represented in Parliament. They are competing across a wide range of issues, and in the process, two key elements are eroding: first, the sustained defense of the welfare state system, and second, the belief among voters that the welfare state will reliably support them in times of need.
In turn, this opens the door to what we might describe as a more populist mode of politics. Parties increasingly link specific issues to direct promises – “we will solve this problem,” “we will address that concern”—while often adopting a critical stance toward elites. This dynamic is particularly evident among right-wing parties, especially those drawing support from rural constituencies, but it is also visible among left-wing parties, which similarly frame themselves as defenders of “the people” against elites or against the erosion of welfare state protections.
In short, this is a complex and evolving situation. The welfare state—both its defense and its development as a foundational pillar of Danish politics—has largely receded from the political agenda. Instead, across the 12 parties now represented in Parliament, there is a growing tendency to focus on short-term issues.
Geopolitical Leadership No Longer Guarantees Electoral Reward
Denmark’s Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen at a press conference during the COVID-19 crisis, Copenhagen, March 17, 2020. Photo: Francis Dean | Dreamstime.
Despite a potential “rally-around-the-flag” dynamic linked to the Greenland crisis, Mette Frederiksen did not translate geopolitical leadership into electoral gains. Does this indicate a growing decoupling between executive performance and electoral reward, suggesting that political trust has become more conditional, situational, and less anchored in traditional forms of leadership legitimacy?
Professor Johannes Andersen: Yes, that is correct. The Greenland issue did not ultimately help, although it appeared to do so at the outset. One of the reasons the election was called is that Mette Frederiksen saw an opportunity to gain additional support, and initially it seemed plausible that this could be achieved. However, the international crisis unfolded within the context of a centrist government composed of the Social Democrats, the Moderates, and the Liberals. While this coalition formally spans traditional bloc divisions, an analysis of Moderate voters suggests that they closely resemble those in the blue bloc. In that sense, one could argue that the government effectively contained two blue bloc parties alongside one from the red bloc.
During the Greenland crisis, the foreign minister was highly visible and active in defending Denmark’s interests as a kingdom, particularly in relation to Greenland. His performance was widely recognized, and voters appeared to acknowledge that he was doing a good job. Yet, when it came to the election, this did not translate into electoral gains. Support shifted within blocs—some voters moved toward the blue bloc, others toward the red—but there was no significant transfer of support across blocs. In effect, the situation resulted in a draw: neither side was able to capitalize electorally on the crisis.
This outcome likely came as a surprise to the government. Mette Frederiksen, who personally decided on the timing of the election, may have expected a more favorable result than what ultimately materialized.
A New ‘Center’ Is Emerging as a Strategic Position Against Extremes
Election campaign posters featuring Liberal leader and former Prime Minister Lars Løkke Rasmussen displayed on a street during the campaign period in Copenhagen, Denmark on June 15, 2015. Photo: Francis Joseph Dean / Dean Pictures / Dreamstime.
With Lars Løkke Rasmussen occupying a pivotal position, how should we rethink the notion of “the center” in fragmented multiparty systems? Is it still a sociologically grounded median space, or increasingly a strategic and discursive construction emerging from systemic fragmentation?
Professor Johannes Andersen: As I mentioned, when we look at the voters of the Moderates, their profile is almost identical to that of voters in the blue bloc. Their support base aligns closely with the average blue bloc voter, and their appeal increasingly reflects this orientation. At the same time, they emphasize that they do not belong to either the traditional right or the left. Instead, they construct an image of both sides as “extremes,” positioning themselves as an alternative to these perceived poles.
However, Denmark has a long tradition of a different kind of center, represented by the Radical Left (Radikale Venstre), which is a particularly interesting case. Historically, this party emerged from socially engaged small farmers in the countryside who were struggling to sustain their livelihoods. It represented their political voice during a period of hardship. On the other hand, the party advocated for social rights; and it supported economic liberalism. In this sense, it embodied a form of social liberalism that has been deeply rooted in Danish political tradition. Indeed, social liberalism played a significant role in the development of the welfare state, even if the Social Democrats were the primary force advancing and defending it. This combination of social and liberal ideas constituted what we might call the “classic” center in Danish politics.
Today, with the Moderates and Lars Løkke Rasmussen in the lead, we observe a markedly different conception of the center. Their position is defined less by a substantive ideological synthesis and more by a strategic stance against what they label as “extremism.” They seek to exclude the political extremes and present themselves as the responsible and pragmatic alternative within the system.
In this sense, we are witnessing the emergence of a new kind of center. Unlike the traditional social-liberal center, this formation reflects a different logic of political competition. It could even be described as a form of “centrist populism,” should this tendency continue to develop. In some respects, the Moderates may display more pronounced populist features than some of the traditional right-wing populist parties in Denmark.
Their approach involves defending what might be termed “the good people” and their interests—specifically, those who do not identify with more radical positions. They portray themselves as protecting these citizens from the uncertainty and instability generated by both radical left- and right-wing actors. Rather than targeting conventional elites, they construct a political elite associated with extremism, against which they position themselves as defenders of ordinary citizens.
In this way, we can observe the emergence of a new form of centrism—one that is no longer anchored in a stable sociological base but instead arises from a strategic and discursive effort to represent “the common people” against perceived political extremes.
Stability Is Promised, but Volatility Defines the New Political Landscape
How should we normatively and sociologically assess the growing role of centrist kingmaker parties in proportional systems? Does their pivotality enhance pluralist representation, or does it risk distorting democratic accountability while reshaping citizens’ perceptions of fairness and representation?
Professor Johannes Andersen: You raise an important point, particularly with regard to stability. If we look more closely at the Moderates, for example, a year ago they were close to the threshold of parliamentary representation. Their level of support fluctuates significantly—it rises and falls, almost in a “U-shaped” pattern, if you will—and at present they happen to be near a peak.
However, they have emerged from a position where they were not even represented in some of the polls. It is entirely possible that they could return to that position in the future. This reflects a broader dynamic I mentioned earlier: on the one hand, voters increasingly feel unrepresented, and on the other, parties no longer see themselves as representing clearly defined constituencies. The result is a highly fluid political system.
This is what some scholars describe as “hyperpolitics,” where a wide range of actors are constantly communicating, mobilizing, and competing. In such a context, it becomes possible, within a very short time frame, for new centrist parties or initiatives to emerge. Their strategic objective is often to prevent so-called “extremists” from gaining political influence.
My expectation is that even if the Moderates were to disappear, another actor could readily assume the same role. This is because the underlying logic is politically attractive: it acknowledges the existence of conflict but downplays its depth and seeks to avoid polarization. The core argument is that allowing “extremists” to shape political outcomes would generate uncertainty and instability.
In this sense, these parties offer voters a promise of security and stability. At the same time, however, they are themselves embedded in the same uncertainty that characterizes the broader system. Voters are unsure where to turn, and parties are continuously introducing new issues and policy proposals in an effort to remain competitive.
Overall, this points to an increasingly unstable political landscape—one in which volatility, rather than equilibrium, may become the defining feature.
The Danish People’s Party Has Shifted to a More Symbolic, ‘Aristocratic’ Populism
Election posters from various Danish political parties ahead of the June 2019 parliamentary election, Copenhagen, May 20, 2019. Photo: Deanpictures / Dreamstime.
The resurgence of the Danish People’s Party suggests renewed populist energy without systemic takeover. Does Denmark exemplify a model of “contained populism,” and to what extent should this be understood less as a party phenomenon and more as a set of diffuse attitudes embedded within the electorate?
Professor Johannes Andersen: To be honest, I am not entirely sure. The reason is that we are witnessing some rather specific developments in Denmark. The Danish People’s Party, for instance, has undergone a noticeable transformation in its political outlook and style of communication. It has become fundamentally critical of all other political parties, positioning itself as the only authentic representative of “the people.”
At the same time, it has adopted a style that could be described as almost aristocratic. It presents itself as more conservative than even the Conservative People’s Party and seeks to stand above the rest, while claiming to defend all Danes. This stylistic shift is significant. Although it may appear merely rhetorical, it reflects a broader repositioning: the party now frames itself as a guardian of the nation as a whole, rather than as the representative of a specific social group.
In this sense, while the strategy retains a familiar populist logic—defending “the people” against others—it does so in a more generalized and symbolic manner. This marks a departure from earlier, more targeted forms of representation.
At the same time, the Danish People’s Party faces growing competition from the Danish Democrats, who have adopted a more concrete and socially grounded approach. Their focus is on rural communities—people living in small towns who are directly affected by the closure of local shops, medical facilities, and other welfare institutions. These voters often feel that development is bypassing them, that their communities are in decline, and that their economic prospects are increasingly uncertain.
The Danish Democrats seek to give voice to these concerns by advocating for rural development and emphasizing respect for farmers and local livelihoods. In this sense, they represent a more specific, socio-economic form of populism, in contrast to the broader, more symbolic approach of the Danish People’s Party.
What we see, therefore, are two distinct models of populism operating within the right wing of the blue bloc. One is generalized and national in scope; the other is more targeted and rooted in particular social groups. The interaction between these two forms generates a certain degree of turbulence within the political landscape. Rather than cooperating, these parties are engaged in direct competition, each seeking to outmaneuver the other.
Democratic Dynamism Paired with Growing Alienation
And the final question, Professor Andersen. Would you characterize Denmark’s current trajectory as one of adaptive democratic resilience, or do these developments reveal underlying reservoirs of distrust and alienation that could, under specific conditions, enable a more decisive populist radical-right breakthrough?
Professor Johannes Andersen: In a way, I would say that we are developing a new political culture based on growing confusion among voters, with more and more people becoming increasingly uncertain. At the same time, we have what I would call central, government-based mass political parties that are primarily focused on attracting as many voters as possible, without being particularly concerned with their voters’ underlying interests.
This creates a situation in which voters and political parties are constantly moving in and out of alignment with one another. Some voters feel they can no longer trust politicians, while some politicians seek support by claiming to defend all people, fundamental rights, and citizens against major threats. This dynamic opens new opportunities for political parties to gain access to power, while also expanding the range of choices available to voters. As we can see, there are now 12 political parties represented in Parliament, and voters are continually trying to determine which party to support—often changing their choice from one election to the next.
This results in a new and inherently unstable situation which, at its best, may be seen as reflecting positive democratic dynamics, since voters have the freedom to choose among a wide array of alternatives. That is a strength. However, this same instability is also contributing to growing distrust toward politicians. People are becoming increasingly critical of politics and political actors.
As we can observe, the level of voter participation is relatively low and continues to decline. If this trend persists, it could become a serious problem. The Danish electoral system has traditionally been characterized by a high level of voter turnout, but this willingness to participate is now decreasing. We are therefore facing a fundamental challenge.
On the one hand, the system can still be described as a functioning democracy, with voters willing to explore different political options. On the other hand, it is producing increasing confusion among voters, who are becoming more critical of the democratic system as such.
In this interview with the ECPS, Professor Tomaž Deželan offers a sobering assessment of Slovenia’s post-2026 electoral landscape, portraying it as a microcosm of broader European democratic tensions. While the election outcome reflects a degree of democratic resilience, it simultaneously reveals deepening fragmentation, rising anti-establishment mobilization, and the normalization of populist political styles. Professor Deželan argues that Slovenia is undergoing a structural transformation in political competition, marked by leader-centric mobilization, evolving campaign strategies, and the growing influence of digital communication. Most strikingly, he contends that mainstream and center-left actors are increasingly adopting populist tactics themselves, thereby weakening their normative advantage. In this sense, Slovenia exemplifies a wider trend in which democratic actors risk eroding liberal-democratic standards while attempting to counter populism.
In the aftermath of Slovenia’s closely contested 2026 parliamentary elections, the country has emerged as a revealing case for scholars of democratic resilience, party-system transformation, and the adaptive capacity of populism in contemporary Europe. Long regarded as one of the more stable and institutionally consolidated post-socialist democracies, Slovenia now appears to be entering a more uncertain phase marked by electoral fragmentation, ideological polarization, and the growing normalization of political styles once associated primarily with the populist radical right. The narrow result of the election may have prevented an outright illiberal breakthrough, yet it also exposed how fragile the liberal-democratic center has become under mounting domestic and transnational pressures.
In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Tomaž Deželan, Chair of Policy Analysis and Public Administration at the University of Ljubljana, offers a nuanced and sobering interpretation of Slovenia’s evolving political landscape. Rejecting simplistic binaries, he argues that the current moment reflects both “a sign of democratic resilience” and the simultaneous emergence of “competitive illiberalism” within a formally democratic order. In his account, the 2026 election did not simply confirm the endurance of liberal democratic forces; it also revealed the strengthening of alternative actors and strategies that challenge the older political equilibrium from multiple directions.
A central theme of Professor Deželan’s analysis is the structural transformation of political competition itself. Slovenia’s fragmented party system, he suggests, can no longer be understood merely through the lens of episodic volatility. Instead, it points toward a deeper reconfiguration in which traditional party collusion, leader-centered organization, new gray zones of funding, and increasingly unregulated campaign practices coexist with novel forms of mobilization through civil society, digital platforms, and technocratic-populist appeals. Particularly striking is his observation that “we are bringing the messy world into Slovenia,” as strategies pioneered elsewhere in Europe and beyond increasingly shape domestic political behavior.
The interview’s central insight emerges most sharply in Professor Deželan’s comparative reflection on the changing repertoire of democratic actors themselves. As right-wing populists gain confidence, sophistication, and digital reach, he argues, mainstream and center-left forces have struggled to articulate a compelling non-populist response. Instead, they have increasingly adopted emotional and adversarial tactics of their own. Hence his stark conclusion: “democratic forces have, to some extent, responded to populism with populism,” and in doing so, they risk ceding further ground rather than reclaiming democratic initiative. This diagnosis is especially important because it shifts attention away from populist actors alone and toward the strategic exhaustion of those who claim to defend liberal democracy.
Professor Deželan also situates Slovenia’s trajectory within a broader European and transatlantic context. He traces the reconceptualization of Europe in more sovereigntist and ethno-national terms, the continued resilience of Janez Janša’s SDS (Slovenian Democratic Party) through leader-centric and affective mobilization, and the rise of anti-establishment formations such as Resnica as symptoms of deeper crises of trust and representation.
Taken together, Professor Deželan’s reflections suggest that Slovenia is not an outlier but a condensed laboratory of wider democratic tensions. This interview therefore offers not only an interpretation of one national election, but also a timely warning about how liberal-democratic systems may erode when their defenders begin to mirror the very logics they seek to resist.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Tomaž Deželan, revised so slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Slovenia Shows Both Democratic Resilience and Emerging Competitive Illiberalism
Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Deželan, let me begin with the broader picture: In light of the razor-thin electoral margin between liberal and right-wing blocs, how should we theorize Slovenia’s current trajectory—as a case of democratic resilience under stress, or as an early-stage manifestation of competitive illiberalism within a formally consolidated democracy?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: First of all, thank you for the invitation. It is actually both. Obviously, there are different dynamics going on in Slovenian society, and they have been present for quite some time. But you are right: the latest election does show, in a way, a sign of democratic resilience, which has always been the case, particularly with support for the center-left liberal parties. Because, basically, when the center-right parties did not end up as at least relative winners of the national election, it was usually the case that the center-left liberal parties managed to secure at least a relative majority, often due to some sort of fear of autocratization of society or growing illiberalism. So, in that sense, we can see a clear demonstration of democratic resilience.
This is particularly evident in the fact that it was the first case since 1996 that the main governmental party ended up as the winner of the election. But it was a tight one, as you said—razor-thin—so there are also other things going on.
We also have to recognize that, even though the main governmental party, Gibanje Svoboda, ended up as a relative winner, there was, during the election campaign, a very clear idea that the left bloc is the key safeguard against growing illiberalism and autocratization. For example, Slavoj Žižek described it as a civilizational decision, and in many ways a lot of Slovenes, particularly supporters of the center-left, felt this way.
However, we also have to acknowledge that this party and the current Prime Minister did demonstrate some authoritarian actions or styles of governing, which were quite heavily criticized within the public. The current government also faced corruption scandals that were not fully examined and concluded in the period leading up to the election.
Moreover, we observed some visible steps by the current government and the Prime Minister that clearly portrayed big business, as well as certain professions, as parts of the elite, which indicates elements of populism. So, in that sense, the bloc that is supposed to defend democracy and liberal democratic values does demonstrate some problematic features.
At the same time, there is competitive illiberalism emerging, particularly in the form of two parties that can claim some degree of electoral success. This is especially true of the Christian Democrats, a minor center-right party that managed to gain support even though they did not strongly differentiate themselves from the dominant center-right Slovenian Democratic Party (SDS) and its leader Janez Janša. This suggests that appearing as a close competitor, but also as an ally of the main illiberal force in the system, can be a successful strategy. As a result, we now have two alternatives that clearly support a more illiberal agenda and can generate more than 10% of the vote, which is quite significant in Slovenian terms.
So, in that sense, we can claim that there is a sign of democratic resilience—the democratic forces did not lose the election, if not outright winning it. At the same time, there is a clear indication of emerging alternatives to the well-established model of Janez Janša and SDS, and that is something new.
Fragmentation Signals a Shift Toward Post-Cartel Politics
To what extent does the pronounced fragmentation of Slovenia’s party system reflect a structural reconfiguration of political representation—perhaps akin to a transition toward “post-cartel party” dynamics—rather than episodic electoral volatility?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: There’s something going on there as well. For example, it’s true that political parties still heavily depend on the state, and obviously they are almost completely funded by the state. They also really try to avoid competition. Particularly the traditional parties like the Social Democrats, the Christian Democrats and the conservatives, such as the Slovenian Democratic Party, try to avoid heavy competition. This kind of collusion is a pattern. There is also quite a lot of professionalization, particularly in terms of new ways of communication with the public, especially among the larger parties. Particularly the Slovenian Democratic Party, which has the upper hand here.
But obviously, there is also a clear response to a failure of the current model, and basically we can see that the calls for this kind of technocratic style of government mixed with populism are very clear, particularly with the two—I already mentioned the Christian Democrats—with this party that particularly calls for better governance of the economic system. This is their main kind of—I won’t say a differentiating point from the Slovenian Democrats, as they are actually supporting the same agenda—but it is obvious that they have managed to set the pace in that area, so basically this is their salient topic.
But at the same time, the new party, Democrats, led by Anže Logar, former foreign minister in the Janša government, has managed to instill this response to a failure of communication between the two camps. Basically, he is very much into this technocratic model of governance. He also kind of demonstrates this general—I won’t say shift of Slovenian parties, because more or less they have always been like that—but a very clear feature of centralized power concentrated around the leader or a very close leadership.
And then, not all of these new parties demonstrate this pattern of alliances with social movements. At the same time, however, the relatively new Gibanje Svoboda party, like the Liberal Democrats, does exhibit something that is not a feature of the traditional cartel model—namely, close alliances with social movements. In this sense, it was actually social movements that decided the election, as they effectively shaped the campaign leading up to it, which was at least partly run by external advisors from companies linked to both private and publicly affiliated Israeli organizations.
Basically, civil society actually alerted to this campaign that was supposedly also linked to the Slovenian Democratic Party, even though this has not been confirmed yet. There have been some connections—this is clear now—but the rest is still open and up in the air. But anyway, it was civil society that managed to mobilize a large part of the center-left voters to get to the polling stations and actually defend this democratic resilience bloc.
In a way, we can definitely see some sort of post-cartelization of Slovenian parties, but there is no clear model here, because different strategies are employed by different parties that do manifest this, I would say, important move toward a different kind of model. Particularly due to new avenues of funding for Slovenian political parties, it is very clear that even though almost all funding comes from the state, there have been and there are clear avenues and clear indications of funding that is quite a gray area. For example, there are links to different foreign agents or foreign interests that invest in companies supporting one or the other options. As well as what we have clearly seen is that the regulation of the electoral campaign is far too narrow and has basically opened up a field for a longer, at least medium-term campaign that is quite unregulated, as well as quite prone to abuse in terms of funding, and also of some conventions that were usually, or prior to these elections, quite well abided by.
So, in a way, we are bringing the messy world into Slovenia, which is getting messier by the minute, and obviously we are also seeing the strategies of other political parties—particularly populist and right-wing parties that we have been observing across Europe and the world—entering the Slovenian political arena. This was not the case during our period of independence; it started to appear in the middle of the past decade, but now it is very clearly present, and basically all parties are employing those tactics.
Slovenia Is Not Turning Eurosceptic—It Is Reimagining Europe
Photo: Marko Bukorovic / Dreamstime.
Drawing on your work on Europeanization, how do you interpret the increasingly salient tension between pro-European liberalism and nationalist-populist contestation? Does this indicate a recalibration of Slovenia’s embeddedness within the EU’s normative and institutional order?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: Unfortunately, you could say so even though there is still very strong support for European integration and for the EU, citizens have always been quite fond of Europe as such, because it has long been seen as a signal or a concept of progress. Europe was the alternative to Yugoslavia during the communist period and has remained so, which is why there has always been a positive notion of Europe.
That said, particularly after entry into the EU and following various crises, people have learned that Europe can also be a messy thing. Many people have become at least somewhat disillusioned, especially when they observed similar political dynamics reappearing at the European level as those seen in the national arena—particularly the rise of populism and right-wing themes. Europe had always been perceived as something better for Slovenes: more civilized, more democratic, and more committed to respecting democratic values.
However, when Eastern European leaders and countries began to demonstrate behavior that most Slovenians rejected—whether in the European Parliament or other EU institutions—this created a degree of public disappointment. This also provided an opportunity for conservative parties to take advantage of such sentiments, although it should be noted that the radical left—or simply the left—has occasionally attempted to capitalize on this kind of resentment as well. Primarily, however, it was the main party on the right, the Slovenian Democrats, that began to reshape this image of Europe—maintaining support for the EU but advocating for a different kind of Europe. For instance, another center-right party, which also has a member of the European Parliament and a former president, promotes a more economically oriented, arguably neoliberal, but still globally competitive Europe.
By contrast, the main party on the right has redefined Europe in terms more aligned with the Visegrád model—a Europe that is sovereigntist and strongly ethno-national. In a sense, this represents a Europe that is no longer Europe as it was previously understood by Slovenians. Therefore, I would not necessarily describe this as growing Euroscepticism or outright disappointment with Europe per se. Rather, it reflects a reconceptualization of Europe shaped by a certain degree of disillusionment—one that aligns more closely with authoritarian models in the East, envisioning a Europe that allows Central and Eastern European countries to thrive without imposing democratic reforms or rule-of-law constraints, which are perceived as limiting its global effectiveness.
This is what we have been observing, and it was not the case during Slovenia’s accession to the EU or in the early stages of membership. Of course, these developments should also be understood in relation to broader trends across Europe—particularly in Hungary, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, and Poland—which serve as important benchmarks. More recently, especially with the Trump administration, this shift has gained an entirely new level of legitimacy.
Janez Janša Mobilizes Both Supporters and Opponents
Prime Minister Janez Janša delivers a keynote speech at a protest in support of Ukraine in Ljubljana, March 2, 2022. Photo: Dreamstime.
Right-wing populist leader Janez Janša’s Slovenian Democratic Party (SDS) demonstrates enduring electoral resilience. How might we explain the persistence of its support base in terms of ideological anchoring, leader-centric mobilization, and affective polarization?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: That’s quite a challenging question, but it is actually all of the things you mentioned, because there is no party without the leader—there is no Slovenian Democratic Party without Janša. There simply is not, even though this is the best-organized party in the country. This mobilization around the leader is as strong as possible. In that sense, having a figure like him—who has led the government three times, in different periods, often during crises—is crucial. It is discussed and debated, but his role during Slovenia’s independence is undeniable. So, in that sense, this is the key programmatic point and also the central element that mobilizes the public in a very effective manner. Supporters of Janša become highly emotional when it comes to him, but even those who oppose him react emotionally as well. He also has a strong mobilizing effect on the left.
And sometimes this proves to be crucial when competing with him. In a way, it is a very strong party organization from the ground to the top, with a clear hierarchy and a rather authoritarian style of leadership and governance that resonates with voters who want to see a strong leader. I would not necessarily say authoritarian, but certainly a strong leader, especially given that, across the board, we have often had leaders who did not demonstrate the same level of leadership skills. He does, and that resonates well within the center-right camp.
What is particularly interesting now is that they are gaining support—becoming more and more successful—with what I would call unusual constituencies. Previously, their base consisted largely of more traditional voters from non-urban environments—older and less educated—but now they are achieving quite significant success with the youth vote, which they did not demonstrate in the past. At the same time, they continue to retain their traditional voters.
So, Janša and the party are being transformed in line with what we are seeing with the MAGA movement in the US. They have developed a very sophisticated network of individuals who are highly effective in communicating their messages to different audiences, and this is also evident in their outreach to younger voters. In that sense, they have reinforced the image of Janša as a clear leader and the best possible choice, particularly through effective youth mobilization. This is largely due to their youth wing, as well as networks of influencers who are not their traditional supporters but whom they have managed to bring on board. They are clearly thriving in this area.
So, you could say there is no party without Janša, but you could also say that they are developing a sophisticated model that does not rely solely on mobilizing their traditional base but is also bringing in new constituencies—and this is what frightens the left the most.
Anti-Establishment Politics Is Filling the Vacuum Left by Institutionalized Parties
The parliamentary entry of anti-establishment actors such as the right-wing populist movement Resni.ca suggests a widening space for anti-systemic politics. To what extent does this reflect deeper crises of institutional trust and political representation?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: You’re right—“Resnica” actually means “truth” in direct translation, and it clearly reflects a lack of trust, or distrust, in virtually everyone. Slovenian society suffers from low levels of trust in politicians, political parties, state institutions, other social institutions, and even fellow citizens. In that sense, Slovenians trust no one.
Resnica, which originates from resentment toward the Janša government and its actions during the pandemic, embodies this dynamic. Initially, it was expected to be a temporary, post-pandemic phenomenon that would eventually fade. However, that has not been the case. The movement managed to secure a visible share of votes in elections immediately after the pandemic, and although its momentum appeared to stall for a time, it re-emerged in this national election.
At this point, it has successfully reasserted its anti-establishment position, largely because all other parties are perceived as part of the establishment. Even Janša and New Slovenia—the Christian Democrats—cannot credibly claim to be anti-establishment, as they have all been in government at least once. In fact, every party currently represented in parliament has governed at some point. This is where Resnica holds a clear advantage.
This is also how it generates support and secures votes. While it is not the only party with anti-establishment origins, parties such as the Left—now part of the government and previously a supporting actor—have lost much of that appeal. As they became more institutionalized and integrated into formal politics, they relinquished their anti-establishment identity, which Resnica has effectively appropriated. As a result, Resnica draws support from across the ideological spectrum. Some of its voters come from the radical left, others from the extreme right, but its core appeal lies in its anti-establishment, anti-elite positioning.
Looking ahead, its role could be pivotal in government formation. Without Resnica, it may be difficult to form a government, regardless of its composition. However, participation in government would require the movement to transform itself, effectively becoming part of the establishment it opposes.
Immediately after the elections, Resnica signaled that it would push its priorities, but within a short time, it became apparent that such participation could fundamentally alter its identity and mode of operation. It is now publicly stating uncertainty—or even reluctance—about cooperating with any party associated with the elite, which effectively includes all other actors. This makes its future trajectory highly uncertain.
There is also the possibility that its support base could grow further, particularly if new elections were held due to a failure to form a government, although this scenario seems unlikely. What remains to be seen is how any engagement with the establishment would affect its electorate.
What is clear, however, is that this represents a new pool of voters in Slovenian politics. Even though some center-left voters abstained, overall turnout remained stable because these are voters who typically do not participate but were mobilized by Resnica. In that sense, it represents a genuine game changer in Slovenian politics.
Riot police guard Slovenia’s parliament in Ljubljana as protesters rally against corruption, government policies, and economic crisis, November 27, 2012. Photo: Markspickz | Dreamstime.
Consensus Politics Is Eroding Under Pressure for Structural Reform
Slovenia has historically been viewed as a relatively stable post-socialist democracy. Do current developments indicate convergence with more polarized Central European trajectories, or does Slovenia retain distinctive institutional and cultural buffers?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: That’s a very good question. Of course, Slovenians value stability and appreciate periods without crises. This is also why the anti-Janša sentiment is so strong in Slovenia, as Janša is often associated with disruption, and Slovenians generally do not want disruptions. In that sense, this consensual style of governing—without major breakthroughs but also without major crises—is very much preferred in Slovenian society. Stability therefore remains very high on the priority list for virtually all political parties, even though some of them, particularly Janša’s SDS, are sometimes tempted to pursue more radical steps when in government.
I would expect stability to remain the dominant feature this time as well, particularly given the configuration of parties that have entered parliament, as well as the patterns of political behavior that Slovenians are accustomed to among their political elite. Stability is likely to be the primary objective, and it is already very high on the agenda in post-election negotiations, partly due to the global situation and conflicts such as those in Iran, Gaza, and Ukraine, but also in terms of internal dynamics.
At the same time, things are changing. In particular—though not exclusively—center-right political parties are increasingly prioritizing major reforms, that is, broader structural changes, which were often avoided in the past because people tend to resist change. In this sense, we may be witnessing a gradual transformation of Slovenia’s traditionally consensual, stability-oriented system toward a more erratic, but perhaps also more consequential, political arena—one that is being actively pushed, in particular, by some of the current opposition forces.
Slovenia Is Following a Populist Script Written Elsewhere
From a comparative perspective, how does Slovenia’s 2026 election refine our understanding of the evolving drivers of populist radical right (PRR) mobilization across Europe?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: As I said before, we are seeing a script that has been written elsewhere. In particular, the links of some party leaders to populist regimes or populist leaders abroad show how they benchmark their behavior and, at times, even rely on similar infrastructures. So, the script has clearly been written elsewhere. As I noted earlier, the success of Trump—rather than the Trump administration itself, but his re-election—along with the subsequent actions of his administration, has amplified what Slovenian populist agendas had already been in the past. As a result, these actors are now more willing and more confident in openly articulating positions that they previously sought to conceal or at least soften.
What we are seeing now is the growing importance of social networks and digital platforms, along with a hybridization of political communication in which traditional modes are reinforced by more postmodern forms, and vice versa. This has been accompanied by a higher degree of sophistication and a significant increase in resources devoted to these strategies—something that was not evident before.
We also observe a clear emphasis on emotional mobilization, particularly through fear. Notably, fear has also become a feature of what we might describe as left-wing populism. In this sense, democratic forces have, to some extent, responded to populism with populism. Center-left parties, which traditionally did not rely on such strategies, have struggled to develop effective alternatives to counter the populist dynamics emerging on the right.
This is also where civil society, as mentioned earlier, has played a role. Although civil society organizations—especially those advocating for democracy and the rule of law—are typically among the most active and vigilant actors, the intensity of the electoral contest has led to the widespread adoption of populist tactics across the political spectrum. And this trend is unlikely to reverse.
In essence, the democratic resilience bloc appears to have concluded that, at least for now, populism is the only effective means of countering populism on the right. More broadly, this suggests that pro-democratic forces currently lack the tools necessary to engage effectively with the forms of populism we are witnessing—not only globally, but also in Slovenia.
Without Compromise, Slovenia Risks Majoritarian Polarization
Looking ahead, do you anticipate a re-consolidation of liberal-democratic governance through coalition pragmatism, or a continued expansion of anti-systemic and populist actors under conditions of fragmentation, digital disruption, and socio-economic uncertainty?
Professor Tomaž Deželan: I would like to be an optimist. Of course, many Slovenians hope—and across the board, particularly those on the center-right who did not support the radical right but rather the moderate right—hope to see liberal-democratic institutions to consolidate as we have experienced them over the past three decades, and even their further deepening. They genuinely feel this way and hope for it.
But I am not such an optimist. I think the current result represents an opportunity, even though the outcome is highly uncertain and it is unclear who will ultimately form the governing coalition. Still, I would say this may be a last opportunity to return to a more consensual, albeit sometimes unstable, form of government. In such a scenario, we may again see changes in government in the final year before elections, as was usually the case in the past, though not this time.
At the same time, there would be a renewed necessity for negotiation, deliberation, and dialogue within the system. What I fear—and what many Slovenians seem to fear—is that, if new elections are held, we may end up with clearly defined blocs and a type of system that we do not want: one dominated by majoritarian logic, lacking deliberation, and prone to creating disruptions in society, ultimately further polarizing the Slovenian political community, which is already highly strained.
So, in a way, there is a broad hope that political forces will come together. The most viable configuration for such an outcome would likely involve cooperation between the Social Democrats, the center-left liberals such as Gibanje Svoboda, the Christian Democrats, and the Democrats of Anže Logar, a center-right liberal party. In other words, bringing together Christian Democrats, liberals, and Social Democrats to form a stable, moderate center.
Such a coalition may not produce dramatic transformations or elevate Slovenia into a dominant position in any particular domain, but it could respond to the expectations of the Slovenian public—namely, stability, a moderate style of governance, and responsiveness to ongoing crises without generating new divisions. At present, there is a widespread concern about deepening divisions and a strong desire to avoid them.
In this ECPS interview, Professor Marco Tarchi offers a nuanced interpretation of Italy’s recent referendum defeat, arguing that the outcome reflects not merely institutional disagreement but a deeper political conflict shaping democratic contestation. Rather than a technical rejection of judicial reform, the vote became a broader judgment on government authority, where competing visions of democracy—majoritarian mandate versus constitutional constraint—collided. Professor Tarchi underscores how political narratives, rather than policy details, drove voter behavior, with opposition forces successfully framing the reform as a threat to institutional balance. At the same time, he highlights the enduring role of historical memory and ideological legacies in structuring contemporary debates, while emphasizing that the result ultimately reveals both the resilience of Italy’s constitutional order and the limits of governing authority in a polarized political environment.
Italy’s Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni has suffered her first major political setback after voters rejected her proposed judicial reform in a referendum, with around 54% voting “No.” Although framed as a technical institutional change, the vote quickly evolved into a broader judgment on her government, revealing growing political vulnerability ahead of next year’s general election. High turnout—close to 60%—underscored strong public engagement, yet failed to deliver the mandate Meloni sought. Opposition forces have seized on the result as evidence that she can be defeated, while analysts suggest the loss has weakened her image of political invincibility and complicated her wider constitutional ambitions, including proposals to strengthen executive authority. Amid economic pressures, geopolitical tensions, and escalating rhetoric toward the judiciary, the referendum signals a more competitive and uncertain political landscape.
Answering written questions from the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Marco Tarchi, Professor Emeritus at the Faculty of Political Science at the University of Florence, offers a sharply contextualized reading of the outcome—one that shifts attention away from institutional technicalities toward the primacy of political conflict and historical memory. For Professor Tarchi, the referendum cannot be understood as a straightforward assessment of judicial reform. Rather, it was “heavily influenced by the political conflict between the center-right government and the center-left opposition,” a confrontation that “overshadowed the discussion on the specific content of the reform.”
At the core of this conflict lies a deeper struggle between competing conceptions of democracy and legitimacy. The government framed the reform as the fulfillment of an electoral mandate—“a commitment to those who had granted it the legitimacy to govern”—thus advancing a majoritarian understanding of democratic authority. By contrast, opponents invoked the limits of the rule of law and the post-fascist constitutional order, effectively denying that “the people [are] the ultimate and primary source of government legitimacy” when institutional balances are at stake. In this sense, the referendum crystallized a long-standing tension between popular sovereignty and constitutional constraint.
Crucially, Professor Marco Tarchi situates this tension within Italy’s enduring historical framework, noting that “the appeal to anti-fascism has certainly served to mobilize left-wing voters” and continues to influence political contestation, particularly given the post-fascist lineage of Brothers of Italy (Fratelli d’Italia, FdI). In this respect, historical memory operates not merely as rhetorical strategy but as a durable structuring force in contemporary Italian politics.
Far from signaling institutional fragility, however, Professor Tarchi interprets the outcome as evidence of systemic resilience: the referendum demonstrates that popular will can “grant a mandate” but also “revoke it,” reaffirming the solidity of Italy’s constitutional architecture. Yet politically, the message is unmistakable. What prevailed, as he concludes, was “a purely political conflict”—one that has re-opened Italy’s competitive political arena and exposed new limits to governing authority.
Here is the edited version of our interview with Professor Marco Tarchi, revised so slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Green ballot paper for Italy’s constitutional referendum on judicial reform, with pencil. Photo: Michele Ursi / Dreamstime.
The Referendum Reflected a Politicized Clash, Not a Technical Judgment
To what extent should the recent referendum defeat be interpreted not simply as a rejection of a specific judicial reform, but as a broader refusal of an attempt to redefine the constitutional equilibrium between popular mandate and judicial autonomy?
Professor Marco Tarchi: It should be noted that the referendum result was heavily influenced by the political conflict between the center-right government and the center-left opposition, which overshadowed the discussion on the specific content of the reform. The issue of the constitutional balance between the popular mandate and the autonomy of the judiciary was raised by the opposition to accuse the government of seeking an authoritarian shift—an accusation obviously rejected by those who had voted for the reform in Parliament. The referendum result demonstrates that supporters of the “No front” succeeded in convincing a majority of the electorate that the reform would alter this balance.
In your view, what does this referendum reveal about the political risks that populist-led governments incur when they seek to transform anti-elite rhetoric into concrete institutional engineering?
Professor Marco Tarchi: Since I don’t consider the Meloni government populist, this question makes no sense to me.
Opponents Denied That Popular Mandate Alone Could Justify Institutional Change
The Meloni government presented the reform as a necessary correction to judicial corporatism, while its opponents depicted it as a threat to the post-fascist architecture of checks and balances. How should we understand this clash of narratives in light of competing conceptions of democracy, sovereignty, and the rule of law?
Professor Marco Tarchi: In the Meloni government’s view, the reform—having been included in the program presented to voters in 2022—constituted a commitment to those who had granted it the legitimacy to govern. It thus reflected a substantive interpretation of the concept of democracy, one also implicit in the use of a popular referendum to approve or reject choice made by the parliamentary majority.
Opponents, however, invoked the limits of the rule of law and, in this case, denied the government the right—despite its adherence to parliamentary procedures—to alter the existing balance of power. In doing so, they signaled that they do not regard the people as the ultimate and primary source of governmental legitimacy.
Does the outcome suggest that, in Italy, the judiciary still retains a distinctive symbolic status as a constitutional counter-power, such that reform projects in this domain are almost inevitably judged through the prism of democratic suspicion?
Professor Marco Tarchi: “Democratic suspicion” toward the reform was expressed only by opposition parties and the association representing the judiciary, which proved to be a de facto political counter-power, significantly contributing to the referendum result.
References to Anti-Fascism Will Continue to Shape Opposition Strategy
Giorgia Meloni, Prime Minister of Italy and leader of the Fratelli d’Italia party, speaks at an electoral rally ahead of the national elections in Turin, Italy, September 13, 2022. Photo: Antonello Marangi / Dreamstime.
To what extent did the referendum confirm that constitutional politics in Italy remains deeply shaped by historical memory, particularly the legacy of fascism, anti-fascism, and the constitutional settlement designed to prevent the concentration of power?
Professor Marco Tarchi: The appeal to anti-fascism has certainly served to mobilize left-wing voters, but it has already been used on numerous other occasions since the creation of the Meloni government, due to the post-fascist ideological affiliation of Fratelli d’Italia, and will most likely continue to be used by the opposition to counter the government’s actions in many other areas.
How far can this vote be read as a test of the limits of majoritarianism in contemporary Italy—namely, the point at which electoral strength ceases to confer legitimacy for altering institutions intended to restrain executive dominance?
Professor Marco Tarchi: This vote demonstrates that the concept of popular willcan be used either to grant a mandate to transform the institutional structure—as happened in the 2022 elections—or to revoke it, as in the referendum.
Majoritarian Reform Has Occurred Before Without Any Populist Label
How does the politicization of judicial reform in this case illuminate the tension between majoritarian conceptions of democracy and liberal-constitutional principles within populist radical right governance?
Professor Marco Tarchi: On a previous occasion—the 2001 reform passed by the Amato government, which radically modified Articles 114 to 133 of the Constitution without making concessions to the opposition’s proposals—the “majoritarian conception of democracy” was applied without there being any populist party in government and without any denunciation of a violation of liberal constitutional principles.
In the Italian case, where populism has often thrived on the denunciation of intermediary powers, does the referendum reveal that the rhetoric of popular sovereignty is more effective when directed against institutions than when deployed to restructure them?
Professor Marco Tarchi: Beyond this specific case, many examples in other countries – from the Austrian case of 2000 onwards – show us that this is one of the typical limits of populist action.
Political Conflict Overshadowed the Substance of the Reform
How should we interpret the high turnout in this referendum? Does it suggest that a significant segment of the electorate understood the vote as a constitutional choice of first-order importance, or that the referendum was successfully transformed into a plebiscitary judgment on the government itself?
Professor Marco Tarchi: The judgment on the government certainly prevailed, but it is impossible to empirically calculate how much the specific content of the reform influenced the outcome.
How should we situate this referendum within the longer trajectory of Italian populism, particularly the enduring distrust toward political and judicial institutions since the crisis of the First Republic?
Professor Marco Tarchi: Italian populism, especially during the crisis of the First Republic, extolled the judiciary’s role as a bulwark against political corruption. If the referendum vote was viewed from this perspective, one would paradoxically argue that it marked a success for the populist vision of the relationship between professional politicians and judges. But I repeat, what prevailed in this case was a purely political conflict.
No Political Actor Has Easily Translated Support into Structural Reform
Could the defeat be seen as evidence that populist radical right actors are more successful at politicizing dissatisfaction than at building broad consent for complex institutional redesign, especially when such redesign touches the judiciary?
Professor Marco Tarchi: With the already stated reservations about the alleged populist nature of the Meloni government— which I dispute —I would answer yes. I would add, however, that other political actors also found it difficult to transform the dissatisfaction that had fueled their success into consensus for the institutional overhaul. This was demonstrated by the failure in 2016 of Matteo Renzi, then both head of the government and the Democratic Party, to pass his constitutional reform to abolish the Senate.
To what extent can the referendum be read as a test of “state capture” dynamics, and does its outcome suggest resilience or fragility in Italy’s institutional architecture?
Professor Marco Tarchi: Given the result, one should deduce a substantial solidity of the Italian institutional architecture.
In comparative perspective, how does this referendum differ from those moments in which governments in Turkey, Hungary or Poland were able to advance far-reaching judicial transformations? Does Italy’s constitutional culture still provide stronger antibodies against that trajectory?
Professor Marco Tarchi: I see no substantial similarity between the Italian situation and the others mentioned, which are also very different from each other.
The Future of Reform Now Depends on the Next Election Outcome
To what extent might this result affect Meloni’s wider constitutional ambitions, especially proposals aimed at strengthening executive authority or introducing direct popular legitimation for the premiership?
Professor Marco Tarchi: This certainly represents a setback to Meloni’s proposed reform of the role of Prime Minister. Whether it can be revived or permanently shelved will depend on the outcome of the next general election.
Finally, what does this referendum tell us about the medium- and long-term trajectory of Italian and European politics: are we witnessing a momentary setback for a successful populist radical right government, or an early sign that constitutional resistance can still interrupt projects of hegemonic consolidation?
Professor Marco Tarchi: I repeat that I do not consider the Meloni government a “radical right-wing populist government,” and therefore this question is irrelevant to me.
This commentary examines how fuel pricing in Nigeria has become a central site of democratic contestation, linking economic reform to everyday political experience. Drawing on recent scholarship, Dr. Oludele Solaja shows that the removal of fuel subsidies is interpreted less through macroeconomic logic than through lived realities—rising transport costs, food inflation, and declining purchasing power. In this context, fuel policy functions as a visible test of state credibility and fairness. The analysis highlights how “everyday populism” emerges as citizens frame reforms through moral distinctions between suffering publics and detached elites. Crucially, the study argues that climate and fiscal reforms cannot succeed without trust: where institutional credibility is weak, even economically rational policies risk generating political backlash and deepening democratic discontent.
In Nigeria, fuel isn’t simply a commodity but perhaps one of the most immediate points through which Nigerians engage with the state. Changes at the pump influence transport prices, the distribution of food, the nature of informal work, substitutes to electricity, household coping mechanisms. Any significant change at the pump is rapidly translated through market and commuters’ routes, domestic budgets, turning fiscal policy into political experience. Consequently, fuel pricing has evolved into perhaps the most visible site of democratic validation and of state-society trust (Gbadebo, 2025; Okonkwo & Ezenwegbu, 2024).
The lifting of a long-standing petrol subsidy as part of recent reforms re-ignited an ever recurrent and sensitive national debate around governance, fairness and burden-sharing. The declared rationale for subsidy removal was correction of unsustainable fiscal spending, drain on public finances and constraint on welfare and infrastructure investment (Gbadebo, 2025). Nevertheless, macroeconomic rationales never fully determine political meaning. In the view of many Nigerians, what is primarily being assessed in post subsidy withdrawal policy aren’t ratios in macro-economic indicators, but transport fare hikes, food price volatility, diminishing purchasing power and pervasive uncertainty; studies found mitigation measures to be inadequate and unevenly distributed, which compounded distrust in the government (Gbadebo, 2025; Okonkwo & Ezenwegbu, 2024).
This dilemma reveals the more important sociological aspect of the problem: economic reform easily gains political meaning in fragile trust situation. Populism is not merely about elite discourse or electoral tactics, but also everyday interpretation where citizens divide the social world along the moral lines of “normal citizens in suffering” and “detached politicians.” Petrol pricing is one aspect where it comes into the citizen vocabulary as its impact is immediate, transparent, and social inequal (Yang et al., 2021; Moerenhout et al., 2021). Rather than seeing it as the market correction, for many citizens the rising of petrol price is viewed as an indication of their anxieties over issues of justice, elite benefit and the credibility of the state.
Public conversations often return to questions such as: Why must austerity begin with ordinary households? Why do reforms demand sacrifice where visible political restraint appears limited? These questions contribute to what may be called everyday environmental populism — a form of public meaning‑making in which environmental and economic reforms are judged through moral experiences of inequality and institutional betrayal (Gbadebo, 2025). While classic fuel subsidy literature focuses on economic costs and distributional effects, political economy research highlights that reform success depends on public trust and the social contract between state and citizens (Yang et al., 2021).
The contradiction is clear: long‑term fiscal rationality collides with short‑term social hardship. In principle, subsidy removal may improve efficiency and reduce distortions in consumption. But in an unequal society with fragile institutional credibility, citizens encounter “energy transition” through transport costs, generator fuel, food inflation, and daily mobility (Esekpa, 2024).
Within an urban environment, such as Lagos, rises in fuel price can rapidly influence commuter patterns, market costs and flow of informal economy money. In peri-urban and rural settings electricity is already unreliable, with generators being extensively used. Here price of fuel is likely to define the profitability of a micro business. In a local study within Nigeria, increases in fuel price are seen to correlate with economic suffering and an increase in the cost of living, therefore reinforcing the public opinion that the burden of reforms is primarily on the common man (Abaddah, 2025).
This explains why trust becomes central to policy legitimacy. Historical memory matters: earlier reforms were often accompanied by promises of safety nets, infrastructure improvements, or welfare expansions that many citizens believe were never fully realized. Consequently, new fuel adjustments are interpreted not in isolation but against accumulated experiences of unfulfilled government commitments and governance shortfalls (Okonkwo & Ezenwegbu, 2024).
Public reactions in both formal surveys and public commentary reflect this complex interpretation. A nationally representative household study finds that opposition to fuel subsidy reform is strongly linked with beliefs about government corruption and capacity to deliver compensatory programs; respondents were more likely to support reform only where they believed in transparent governance and effective social protection (Yang et al., 2021).
There is also a profound communication gap in Nigerian fuel governance. Policy announcements often emphasize fiscal necessity while underestimating how reforms are emotionally and morally received. Citizens rarely oppose reform simply because they reject technical economics; rather, they resist because they doubt institutional fairness. This creates fertile ground for populist framing and political contestation around trust and governance (Gbadebo, 2025; Yang et al., 2021).
The political symbolism is intensified by Nigeria’s oil‑dependent identity. In a major oil‑producing country, public expectations remain shaped by the belief that resource wealth should translate into broad social benefit. When hardship deepens in an oil-rich economy, citizens often interpret such contradictions politically. Research on global subsidies also shows that fuel subsidy reforms often generate political controversy where institutional quality is low and trust weak (Droste et al., 2024).
While some assessments confirm that reducing subsidies can yield macroeconomic benefits, these gains do not automatically produce democratic legitimacy where hardship expands faster than visible welfare delivery. The result is a politics of resentment, where state actions are judged through everyday experiences of inequality rather than abstract fiscal reasoning (Gbadebo, 2025). For this reason, fuel policy should be understood not merely as economic reform but as democratic communication. The challenge is not only whether subsidy should exist, but whether citizens can trust that reform burdens are socially shared, publicly justified, and institutions remain accountable (Yang et al., 2021).
This is where Nigeria’s climate politics becomes especially instructive. The democratic sustainability transition in developing democracies can no longer be carried out through technocratic sequencing. It will demand overt distribution, convincing social protection and credible assurance that burdens are not unilateral (Gbadebo, 2025). Fuel becomes politicized in the sense that it encapsulates a variety of societal fears including inequalities, citizenship, institutional trust and the moral narrative of the state itself. Therefore, the sociology of petrol prices illustrates how the politics of environment is evaluated by “the governed,” in relation to everyday politics of trust, fairness and public meaning (Yang et al., 2021; Esekpa, 2024).
The lesson here is stark: climate and fiscal reforms implemented without democratic trust are politically dangerous, even when economically defensible. For the citizen in Nigeria asks the basic and obvious question of who bears the cost, who reaps the reward, and to whom should believe (Gbadebo, 2025; Okonkwo & Ezenwegbu, 2024).
(*) Dr. Oludele Solaja is an Environmental Sociologist and Developmental Scholar based in Olabisi Onabanjo University, Nigeria. His research focuses on environmental governance, climate policy, and everyday political populism in African contexts. He is a Nonresident Research Fellow at the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) and has published extensively on climate governance, citizen trust, and socio-political interpretations of environmental reforms.
Droste, N., Chatterton, B., & Skovgaard, J. (2024). A political economy theory of fossil fuel subsidy reforms in OECD countries. Nature Communications, 15, 5452. https://www.nature.com/articles/s41467-024-49835-4
Esekpa, O. I., Ekarika, W. A., & Njama, G. J. (2024). Economic implications of fuel subsidy removal in Nigeria: Challenges and prospects. Journal of Public Administration, Policy and Governance Research.https://jpapgr.com/index.php/research/article/view/131
Gbadebo, A. D. (2025). The political economy of fuel subsidy removal: Governance and sustainable development in Nigeria. Journal of Social Political Sciences, 6(3), 206–224. https://doaj.org/article/e97ce91a0aff459a9106ff8fc6cff551
Okonkwo, A. E., & Ezenwegbu, J. C. (2024). Removal of petrol subsidies and its impact on democratic governance in Nigeria. Nnamdi Azikiwe Journal of Political Science, 9(3), 38–47. https://najops.org.ng/index.php/najops/article/view/267
