George Simion

Dr. Bortun: Economic Insecurity Fuels the Rise of the Far Right in Romania

by Editor’s ChoiceExtremism & RadicalisationHomeInterviews

In the wake of Romania’s high-turnout 2025 presidential election, Dr. Vladimir Bortun offers a powerful analysis of how deep-rooted economic insecurity—fueled by decades of neoliberal reform—has driven support for the far right. Despite a centrist victory, nationalist George Simion’s strong performance underscores a broader post-crisis populist consolidation. In this exclusive ECPS interview, Dr. Bortun explores the AUR’s appeal among the diaspora and rural poor, the ideological vacuum left by the mainstream left, and how Romania exemplifies a wider European shift from democratic to authoritarian neoliberalism. A must-read for anyone interested in the structural dynamics behind Europe’s populist realignment.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Romania’s 2025 presidential election represented a pivotal moment for the country’s democratic trajectory and its place within the broader European political landscape. In a high-stakes runoff, centrist candidate and pro-European reformer Nicușor Dan secured a clear victory over George Simion, the leader of the far-right Alliance for the Union of Romanians (AUR). With the highest voter turnout in a quarter-century and the specter of a previously annulled election looming large, the vote was widely interpreted as a referendum on Romania’s political future—particularly on the tension between liberal democracy and the rising tide of far-right populism. Despite Simion’s defeat, his strong first-round performance and continued popularity signaled a deeper, more durable undercurrent of reactionary politics in Romania.

Against this backdrop, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) spoke with Dr. Vladimir Bortun, a lecturer at the University of Oxford and an expert on European politics, transnational party networks, and left-populist movements. With unique insight into both the structural drivers and class dynamics underpinning political realignments in Romania and beyond, Dr. Bortun offers a compelling analysis of how economic insecurity—rooted in decades of neoliberal reforms, mass emigration, and systemic inequality—has created fertile ground for the rise of the far right.

In this wide-ranging interview, Dr. Bortun reflects on how the socioeconomic legacies of Romania’s post-1989 transition have failed to deliver on their liberal democratic promises, especially for large swaths of the population living in poverty or working precariously. He argues that this deep economic discontent, compounded by the collapse of credible left-wing alternatives and the ideological convergence of the center-left and center-right, has allowed far-right actors like Simion and AUR to present themselves as anti-establishment voices—even as their own policies serve entrenched economic elites.

Crucially, Dr. Bortun situates Romania within a broader European context, where authoritarian neoliberalism is increasingly replacing the post-Cold War liberal consensus. He draws instructive comparisons with Poland, France, and Southern Europe, exploring how the mainstreaming of far-right rhetoric and policy by centrist parties—particularly around immigration and national sovereignty—has reshaped the ideological field.

By examining the rise of AUR’s support among the Romanian diaspora and among marginalized rural voters, Dr. Bortun challenges simplistic narratives about populism and brings attention to the lived realities of class, exclusion, and political abandonment. As he makes clear, the battle over Romania’s future is not only political or cultural—it is fundamentally about economic power, ownership, and whose voices get to shape the nation’s path forward.

Vladimir Bortun
Dr. Vladimir Bortun, a lecturer at the University of Oxford and an expert on European politics, transnational party networks, and left-populist movements.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Vladimir Bortun.

Neoliberalism Created the Perfect Storm

Professor Vladimir Bortun, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Given Simion’s stronger-than-expected first-round lead and his continued appeal despite being defeated in the runoff, how would you theorize the durability of far-right populism in Romania beyond the electoral cycle? Can this be conceptualized within a broader post-crisis populist consolidation rather than a mere reactionary surge?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: That’s a very important question. First of all, thank you again for the invitation. I should clarify that I’m not a professor yet—just a lecturer.

To go straight into the topic: recent academic literature has shed significant light on the key drivers behind the rise of the populist far right across borders. While there are, of course, multiple factors at play—and we will explore some of them—the most consistent driver across all contexts is economic insecurity, rooted in decades of neoliberal globalization.

These conditions have only worsened in the aftermath of the 2007–2008 crisis, which—as you mentioned—took a particularly austerity-driven form in Europe, shaped by how both European institutions and national governments responded. Romania was no exception.

To provide some context on the socioeconomic situation in Romania: after 35 years of neoliberal capitalism and roughly 18 years since joining the European Union—which has brought certain benefits but, for many Romanians (including those who have supported the far right), has failed to fulfill its initial promises—we are now facing deeply concerning indicators.

Approximately 45% of the population lives in poverty or on the brink of it—the highest percentage in the European Union, meaning nearly half the population is affected. Romania also ranks first or second in terms of in-work poverty. Moreover, it allocates the lowest—or among the lowest—shares of GDP to healthcare, education, and social protection.

After Ireland, Romania has the lowest tax collection capacity in the European Union. It also maintains some of the lowest tax rates in the EU. There is a 10% flat income tax, which disproportionately affects workers and employees—particularly because, in addition to this tax, they are also responsible for paying social contributions that were previously covered by employers. These include contributions to healthcare and pensions.

Unsurprisingly, this flat tax structure primarily benefits the wealthier segments of society. In addition, Romania has a corporate tax rate of 16%, one of the lowest in the European Union.

These are clearly the right conditions for economic insecurity—fertile ground for the rise of the far right. But it’s not only the poorest in society that we should consider. Economic insecurity affects various social classes and class fractions.

In Romania, it has had a particularly strong impact on the petty bourgeoisie—small and medium-sized entrepreneurs—who have been closing down their businesses at an increasing rate over the past few years, especially since the COVID-19 pandemic. I believe the pandemic represents another critical crisis that must be factored into any explanation of the far right’s rise. These small and medium entrepreneurs, going bankrupt by the thousands, form a core component of the far right’s social base.

Nationalism Meets Neoliberalism in a Peripheral Economy

People in traditional national costume return from Sunday church service in Maramureș, Romania—a region renowned for preserving its cultural heritage. Photo: Theodor Bunica.

How would you situate the AUR’s electoral messaging—particularly its nationalist-economically neoliberal synthesis—within the wider genealogy of post-2008 far-right formations in Europe? Is there a uniquely Romanian hybrid emerging, or does AUR largely mirror external templates?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: There are certain similarities with the broader profile of the European far right. There is clearly this populist discourse they employ, which is built on the dichotomy between the “pure people” and the “corrupt elite.”The elite, as in other countries, is portrayed as those who have sold out our country—who don’t represent the interests of our country but rather represent foreign interests, globalist interests. And of course, other undesirable categories in society are targeted as well, such as the LGBTQ community and immigrants from non-European countries, who have started to come to Romania in recent years as cheap labor—these are the usual suspects in far-right rhetoric.

At the same time, there is an element of truth in relation to the domination of foreign interests in Romania. Foreign companies hold a dominant position in key sectors of the economy, such as the energy sector, manufacturing—especially the auto industry—and the banking sector. They make huge profits in Romania, which they then repatriate to their home countries rather than reinvesting, even partially, in the Romanian economy.

Foreign banks, in particular, are guilty of this kind of profit repatriation from Romania, and this has generated a level of dissatisfaction that can also be observed in other countries. For example, in Poland, there is a very interesting study on the role of “comprador bankers” in the rise to power of the Law and Justice Party (PiS), which governed the country for about a decade. These comprador bankers were Polish managers of foreign bank subsidiaries who eventually came to realize that these foreign banks were operating in Poland solely to extract profit—profits that were then repatriated to their home countries, rather than being reinvested in the Polish economy. They did not, for instance, offer affordable or advantageous loans to Polish businesses. In response, some of these managers rebelled against the model and aligned themselves with the national capitalist hegemonic project advanced by PiS.

So, there is an element of what I would call the “comprador professional managerial class” that has served foreign capital in these peripheral Central and Eastern European countries, now fighting back against this foreign capital domination—in coalition with the domestic capitalist class. Particularly, those fractions of the domestic capitalist class that are trying to secure the sectors where they are still dominant—especially in Romania, such as real estate, construction, and hospitality.

The party you mentioned—AUR—led by Simion, who lost the election, is heavily funded by segments of the domestic capitalist class, particularly in the construction, real estate, and hospitality sectors. These actors are seeking to ring-fence and protect their interests from foreign capital, while also attempting to gain state power in order to advance those interests.

This project of the national bourgeoisie reclaiming state power is a common regional feature across Central and Eastern Europe. Hungary, Poland, and now Romania exhibit this pattern. I would even argue that it extends beyond the region—to Turkey, for example. Correct me if I’m wrong, but the Erdogan project seems to share similar characteristics, as far as I understand.

Now, regarding the distinctive features of the Romanian case—since I’ve already outlined some of the common regional characteristics—there are two aspects that stand out about the Romanian far right. I would highlight these two features, and perhaps we’ll focus on one of them in the following questions.

The first is their particular appeal to the diaspora. The diaspora represents a significant portion of their social base, and I’ll elaborate later on why they’ve been so successful in mobilizing this group.

The second distinctive feature is their appeal to farmers. Romania has the highest share of the workforce employed in agriculture in the entire European Union—between 18% and 20% of the total workforce. To give you a sense of how high this is: the second-ranked country in the EU is Poland, with only 10% of its workforce in agriculture. France, despite having a strong agricultural sector, has just 2.4% of its workforce employed in this field.

So, this is a huge sector in Romania, and the vast majority of these people working in agriculture are subsistence farmers. They are small farmers who feel like nobody is looking after their interests. The state is perceived as only overburdening them with regulations and taxation, while favoring the interests of big foreign corporations. And the far right is managing to build inroads into this significant social class in Romania.

A Left in Name, Neoliberal in Practice

Crin Antonescu
Crin Antonescu, the pro-European presidential candidate, speaks during the Social Democratic Party (PSD) Congress in Bucharest, Romania, where he was officially confirmed as the party’s nominee on February 2, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

How do you interpret the apparent paradox between widespread socioeconomic grievances and the relative electoral failure of redistributive political platforms, particularly in the light of the Social Democratic Party’s strategic vacillation and policy convergence with the right?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: That’s the key factor from a subjective perspective. I’ve tried to talk about the objective factors, but in terms of the subjective conditions, clearly the key factor that has facilitated the rise of the far right—not just in Romania, but across the region and beyond—is the lack of a credible left-wing political project.

And the current left party, the center-left party you’ve mentioned—the PSD—is left in name, but not in substance, not in policy. They have actually governed for the majority of these 35 years of neoliberal capitalism—more or less 20 of those 35 years have seen them in government. So, they have implemented some of the very policies I mentioned earlier, which are responsible for the current socioeconomic conditions.

The very minimal social concessions they have made in terms of redistribution while in government have been largely limited to increasing the minimum wage—which is, of course, better than nothing. This partly explains why they remain the most voted-for party in Romania.

However, these measures are far from sufficient. Despite repeated increases over the past six or seven years, the minimum wage remains very low—about 30% below what would be considered a living wage in Romania, that is, the income necessary for a decent standard of living.

Moreover, Romania has the highest share of its workforce earning the minimum wage. Nearly 40% of all workers are on minimum wage—twice the EU average.

So, we are a minimum-wage economy, a low-taxation economy, and a low public spending economy. Romania is pretty much a paradigmatic case of neoliberalism—and the PSD is very much responsible for this. It is arguably the single most responsible political party for this situation.

Proletarians Abroad, Petit Bourgeois at Home

With over 60% of the diaspora backing Simion in the first round, what implications does this have for the dominant narratives that have historically cast diasporic Romanians as liberalizing or pro-European agents?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: That’s a significant shift indeed! And it started already in 2020, when the party AUR—which, by the way, stands for the Alliance for the Union of Romanians, but the acronym aur also means “gold” in Romanian— from the very beginning targeted its message toward the diaspora. They even called the diaspora “the gold of Romania” that they wanted to bring back to the country.

The party was launched in the diaspora in December 2019, one year before the first elections in which they stood candidates. Their launch meeting took place in the UK, among Romanians living there—not in Romania. So, from the outset, they were oriented toward the diaspora, and they managed to appeal to it in several ways.

On the one hand, this diaspora is not one unified entity; it consists of several diasporas. We’re talking about five million people, which is a quarter of Romania’s total population. They live very different lives in the West of Europe. Some of them live in quite squalid conditions, working very hard jobs for low wages, in poor environments, with little respect and little sense of being treated equally.

There is a widespread feeling among them that Romanians are treated as second-class citizens. Many are temporary or circular migrants—working on a construction site for three or four months, then returning to Romania, or working seasonal jobs picking vegetables on farms in Italy, Spain, the UK, or Germany, and then going back.

They don’t have a favorable context for integration or for deeper socialization in the host countries. But let’s be honest—those host countries themselves have experienced a surge in far-right politics. The far right is now much more mainstream in Western Europe than it was 10 or 20 years ago, when these migrants may have been sending back more liberal kinds of social remittances.

These societies have shifted significantly to the right. Anti-immigration discourse has become more mainstream, normalized, and legitimized—and Romanians living there have internalized some of that discourse.

In my own fieldwork, I often came across people who, despite being migrants themselves and suffering from anti-immigration attitudes and discourse, were nevertheless against other groups of migrants. They distinguished themselves from them—talking about “good migrants” and “bad migrants.” There is a real cognitive dissonance at play here, where migrants adopt anti-migration attitudes and political preferences.

Another aspect is that many feel Romania is a peripheral country that lacks a real voice in the European Union and in the broader global political stage. They perceive Romania as subordinated economically and geopolitically—which is true.

So, when a populist demagogue like Simion comes along and says, “I will make Romania stand tall again in the EU and in the world,” it resonates. It gives them a sense of restored dignity and pride.

Meanwhile, all the other political parties—including the PSD—are utterly uncritical in their allegiance to the EU, NATO, and the West in general. They refuse to acknowledge the real problems Romanians face, both in terms of their living conditions in the diaspora and in terms of Romania’s position within international power structures.

These parties speak only about the benefits and advantages of being part of these institutions, without addressing the contradictions, the challenges, or the structural disadvantages of Romania’s position in the European and international economic and political system. This, of course, creates a window of opportunity for the far right to come in and capitalize on people’s sense of marginalization and humiliation.

One additional point is that many of these migrants, as I mentioned, are circular or temporary migrants. They may be working blue-collar jobs abroad, but they’ve managed to accumulate enough capital to open a small business back home in their town or village of origin. This means they occupy a complex, dual class position: proletarians abroad, petit bourgeois at home. When they return home, after years of hard work abroad to save capital and open a small guesthouse, café, restaurant, or corner shop, they feel the state does nothing for them.

Instead, they feel overburdened by taxation. Increases in the minimum wage are perceived as a burden because they are now small employers who have to pay two, three, or four salaries. They blame the state—but they also blame those below them: people on minimum wage, or on welfare benefits, whom they see as lazy or asking for too much. They see themselves as the real hard-working people who have sacrificed abroad to invest in the Romanian economy—only to be abandoned by the state, which should be protecting their interests.

I think this is very important. I’m not saying it’s unique to Romania, but it is very salient here—and perhaps not as salient a feature in the social base of the far right in other European countries.

A Race to the Bottom Among Migrants

Building on your work on transnational political mobilization, how should we understand the AUR’s success among emigrants in Italy and Spain? Do these cases indicate a diasporic production of illiberal subjectivities shaped by specific host-country political contexts?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: I think I already touched on this in my previous answer. However, Italy and Spain are particularly illustrative of some of the dynamics I outlined earlier—especially Italy, where the far right has been in power for the past two and a half years.

In that context, migrants often find themselves in a race to the bottom, trying to prove they are more deserving than other migrant groups. I encountered numerous cases of Romanian migrants in Italy—or former migrants who had lived there for many years—expressing very negative attitudes toward Moroccan or Albanian migrants, for example.

Some even told me they had voted for the Northern League, now known as La Lega—Salvini’s party—which was the original far-right populist force before Brothers of Italy surpassed it in popularity. Ironically, this is a party that had made openly anti-Romanian statements in the Italian press. Nevertheless, this became their way of attempting to carve out a place for themselves—by identifying someone “below” them to target as the “bad” migrant.

In Spain, we see a similar surge with the Vox party over the last few years. It is now the third-largest political force in Spain—a country where the far right was outside of Parliament for decades.

Again, we’re talking about a Romanian diaspora that has suffered a lot of discrimination and marginalization. It took a long time for this community to settle. But there is also a split within these diasporas, as I mentioned—between the more settled, integrated diaspora, and the precariously employed, circular, temporary migrants who come and go and who cannot really find a foothold in these countries.

The Center Imitates, but the Far Right Dominates

Comparing Romania’s recent presidential runoff to parallel dynamics in Poland and Portugal, to what extent can we speak of converging or diverging trajectories in the European center-right’s strategy to contain or accommodate far-right surges?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: I think we see a very strong trend of accommodation of the far right—and not just from the center-right, but also from the center-left. In Denmark, for example—going a bit outside the region—the Social Democratic Party currently in government has adopted one of the harshest anti-immigration policies in Europe. And this trend extends further. Even here in the UK, the Starmer-led Labour Party has adopted many of the talking points not just from the Conservative Party but also from Reform UK. Just the other day, Starmer was speaking about Britain being “a country of strangers,” “an island of strangers” due to mass migration, according to him. Apparently, that makes me a stranger here.

There is a growing body of literature—by scholars like Aurelien Mondon and Aaron Winter—that refers to this as the mainstreaming of the far right: the normalization of reactionary ideas and policies. And this applies not just to rhetoric, but to actual policymaking, with both center-right and center-left parties adopting positions in an attempt to win back voters lost to the far right.

But as the saying goes, “the original is better than the copy.” People who want to vote for the far right for reactionary reasons—because they oppose immigration, for example—are unlikely to switch to the center-left just because it has adopted similar anti-immigration tropes. They will continue to vote for the far right. And we have seen this across the board.

The one Social Democratic party currently in power in Western Europe—in the EU at least—is in Spain. And they have resisted the temptation to go in this reactionary direction on issues like immigration and other topics dear to the far right. On the contrary, in some ways they have been an example of what a progressive government can and should say on key issues of our time, including the atrocities we are seeing in Gaza. They are, of course, not a perfect government—they have many flaws and shortcomings. But they demonstrate that it is still possible to stay true to Social Democratic values and policies and win elections. And that’s just speaking from a pragmatic point of view.

Corruption Isn’t the Cause—It’s the Symptom of a System

Romania protest.
Protesters gather for the 13th consecutive day in front of Victoria Palace, the government headquarters in Bucharest, Romania, on February 12, 2017. Over 50,000 demonstrators rallied against controversial corruption reforms, illuminating the night with their mobile phones and forming the national flag with colored paper and cellophane. Photo: Dreamstime.

What insights might Romania’s 2025 election offer for understanding the evolving relationship between anti-corruption discourse and far-right populism, especially when contrasted with the cases of Poland’s Law and Justice or France’s National Rally?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: That’s a very interesting question. I think, on the one hand, the far right’s collusion with corrupt and clientelist practices shows that, after all, they are not such a real alternative to the mainstream parties they criticize. They are quite happy to engage in the same kind of bad politics that the mainstream parties are guilty of. 

On the other hand, while corruption is indeed a major issue in Romania—as it is in many other countries—it is often framed in a very legalistic or even moralistic way, as if it’s simply a flaw of character or the result of an inefficient state bureaucracy.

In this sense, corruption is frequently instrumentalized ideologically to justify the further shrinking of the state and additional cuts to public spending. For example, it’s often claimed that there’s widespread corruption in the welfare system—even though Romania already allocates the lowest percentage of its GDP to welfare in the entire European Union.

Nevertheless, this anti-corruption mantra remains highly salient in public discourse.

The anti-corruption discourse has thus been used to legitimize harsh austerity and neoliberal measures. At the same time, when actions are taken against corruption—such as jailing corrupt politicians—they often remain at a superficial, legalistic level.

This approach is ineffective against the far right. In the United States, we saw the democratic establishment spend four years trying to go after Trump through legal channels—and yet Trump still won the election. Le Pen has been barred from standing in elections, and her party continues to grow in the polls. It’s certainly not declining.

In Romania, the Constitutional Court canceled the November election and barred the winning candidate, Georgescu. Yet the person who replaced him—Simion—secured double the percentage in the first round. It didn’t work.

I’m not saying such measures shouldn’t be taken—if there is a legal basis for them, then by all means, pursue them. But we need to recognize that this is not a real solution to tackling the far right.

On the subject of corruption, an important point must be made beyond its ideological instrumentalization. Corruption is a real issue that must be addressed, but it is often decontextualized.

Corruption needs to be understood as a key vehicle for the primitive accumulation of capital—something characteristic of any early stage in the development of capitalism, in any country, at any point in history.

Corruption, along with other violent forms of capital accumulation, has always been present—even in so-called advanced, consolidated democracies that have practiced capitalism for a longer time. Corruption played a massive role in the emergence of capitalism and continues to play a central role in capital accumulation today.

After all, the dirty money of drug cartels, criminal syndicates, and authoritarian regimes around the world is largely laundered through the City of London—the very heart of global capital. So, if we truly want to tackle corruption, we need to go to the root of the problem and understand it as part of a broader structural and systemic issue.

From Democratic Neoliberalism to Its Authoritarian Mutation

Lastly, from a historical-comparative perspective, how does the Dan–Simion runoff recalibrate the ideological field established in the 1990s transition era? Are we witnessing a definitive exhaustion of post-1989 liberal centrism or its tactical reanimation?

Dr. Vladimir Bortun: This is a great question. There have been repeated claims about the death of the neoliberal center over the past 15 years—after the financial crisis, for instance. There were suggestions that neoliberalism was coming to an end, and that we would see a return to a more Keynesian type of economic model. That didn’t happen. Instead, we got more neoliberalism—more austerity, more privatizations, more deregulation, more flexibilization of the workforce.

Then, again, after the COVID-19 pandemic, there were claims that this marked the death of neoliberalism, especially given the forceful intervention of the state to keep societies afloat—or more accurately, to keep the accumulation of capital going. But again, that was temporary. Neoliberalism has returned in full force.

Now we are witnessing the militarization of Europe, with promises of spending cuts on the most important public services in society in order to fund military efforts. So, I’m afraid we are not seeing the end of neoliberal centrism, but rather its transformation into something more authoritarian—still neoliberal, but authoritarian. A shift, if you will, from democratic neoliberalism to authoritarian neoliberalism.

This transformation is being endorsed by the political center, which is increasingly adopting authoritarian measures across Europe. Here in the UK, the so-called center-left government has imprisoned individuals not for taking part in a protest, but simply for holding a Zoom meeting to plan one—specifically, a protest against environmental destruction. They were not punished for blocking a motorway, but merely for discussing civil disobedience in response to the climate crisis. This illustrates a clear shift toward authoritarianism. Yet when it comes to economic policy, there is a striking convergence between centrist parties and the far right.

The far right claims to be an alternative to the status quo and capitalizes on the grievances, socioeconomic anxiety, and insecurity of ordinary people. But if we look at their actual policy proposals—or, in places where they are in power, their actual policymaking—it’s more of the same. They might throw a few crumbs to ordinary people, to the popular classes, in order to maintain their support. But the bulk of their economic agenda still serves the business class and the wealthy—just different factions of the business class and wealthy than those typically represented by centrist parties.

Mark Riboldi

Dr. Riboldi: State Capture by Big Business Is a Core Threat to Australian Democracy—As Elsewhere

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In this compelling conversation with ECPS, Dr. Mark Riboldi unpacks how corporate influence and elite career pathways hollow out democratic representation in Australia. From revolving doors in politics to the marginalization of community voices, Dr. Riboldi warns that without transparency and reform, “the closed loop between politics and corporate power” will persist. He also explores party fragmentation, the Greens’ identity struggles, and the risks of technocratic drift. “Boldness needs legitimacy,” he insists, urging progressive parties to pair vision with credibility. Dr. Riboldi ultimately sees Australia’s electoral system as a “stopgap” against populist capture—but not an immunity. 

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this incisive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Mark Riboldi—a lecturer at the University of Technology Sydney and scholar of political communication and civil society—offers a sobering yet constructive account of the structural pressures undermining democratic vitality in Australia. At the center of his critique lies a sharp diagnosis of state capture: “One of the biggest problems in Australia—and I think it’s probably the same in other liberal Western democracies—is the impact of big business on government,” Dr. Riboldi explains, stressing how revolving-door pathways from student politics to Parliament and then into private sector boardrooms bypass “real work experience and meaningful community engagement.”

This theme threads through his broader reflections on the fragmentation of Australian party politics, the rise of independents, and the populist logic animating both left- and right-wing actors. Dr. Riboldi rejects simplistic narratives that frame emotionally charged political messaging as inherently populist, noting instead that such communication has long been central to movements across the spectrum. Still, he warns that populism becomes dangerous when it feeds on legitimacy gaps and places all faith in personalistic saviors: “Let’s talk about a problem—I will fix it,” he says, paraphrasing the demagogic logic of figures like Donald Trump or Nigel Farage.

Dr. Riboldi’s insights into party dynamics are especially sharp in his discussion of the Greens. He views the party’s struggle between institutional respectability and activist roots not as a liability but as a productive tension: “It helps to keep a party like the Greens connected to their roots and accountable to those roots.” Yet he also cautions that technocratic messaging—as seen in their focus on parliamentary influence and minority government potential—can fall flat, especially when voters crave bold but believable visions for the future. “Boldness needs to be connected to legitimacy,” he insists, adding that the Greens’ record on housing and climate action has earned them the political capital to stake out such positions.

Ultimately, Dr. Riboldi remains cautiously optimistic about Australia’s institutional resilience. Compulsory voting, preferential ballots, and a proportional Senate system form what he calls a “stopgap” against populist insurgency. Nevertheless, his core warning remains clear: unless transparency is enforced and the influence of corporate power curtailed, Australian democracy—like others around the world—risks further erosion from within.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Mark Riboldi.

A Realignment, Not a Populist Break

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese attends the national memorial service for Queen Elizabeth II. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Mark Ribaldo, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: You’ve written extensively on the fragmentation of party politics in Australia. To what extent do you see the rise of minor parties and independents—especially the Teals and Greens—as indicative of a populist moment or a broader realignment?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: It’s a good question. I should say that I’m not a populist scholar, so I’m not a scholar in populism. So my knowledge of populism literature generally is probably not as in-depth as some of your audience’s.

I think what’s been going on in Australia, probably for the last 50 years or so, is a sense that there’s something wrong with the current system, with the way that politics is working—the two-party system we have in Australia. And there’s a demand for better representation. So that has meant that people have been voting more and more frequently for independent or minor party candidates—or basically non-major party candidates.

Some of the research that I’ve done with some colleagues is showing that that trend away from major party voting is kind of aligning, realigning parts of the left and the right, rather than being more of a kind of a populist break from it. So, I’d probably say it’s more of a broader realignment than anything else.

In your co-authored article, you distinguish ‘party-like independents’ from traditional party politics. Do you see this trend as fostering a new form of populism, or rather as a correction to major-party ossification?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: What we’re talking about with party-like independents—independents operating in a party-like fashion—is a phenomenon in Australia where a central organization called Climate 200 has been collecting funds from various sources to back specific candidates in election campaigns, particularly against Liberal Party candidates. This organization has taken on functions typically associated with political parties, such as centralized fundraising, conducting research, and managing mass communications.

Ordinarily, an independent candidate might only have the resources to campaign within their local seat or engage in a limited range of activities. The existence of Climate 200 as a support vehicle allows these independents to access party-like resources and infrastructure.

So, I see this as a reaction to the major party system—specifically, a response to the right-wing Liberal-National Party in Australia. Climate 200 emerged in reaction to two primary issues: the Coalition’s failure to take meaningful action on climate change, and its inadequate representation of women. Notably, all the Climate 200-backed independents elected in the 2022 federal election were women, and they largely defeated male Liberal-National Party incumbents.

Sometimes You Win Them, Sometimes You Lose Them

How do you interpret the Greens’ recent electoral losses in the lower house within the broader context of Australia’s shifting political cleavages? Was this a rejection of their platform, leadership style, or something more structural like preferential voting patterns and redistributions?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: I think, in terms of the Greens, it’s important to understand that, yes, they lost seats in the lower house—the House of Government—but they maintained the same number of seats in the Senate, the House of Review. They’ve consistently secured two senators per state across the six states for the last three elections. So, the Greens’ Senate vote has been very stable. In contrast, as we saw in the most recent federal election, their position in the lower house has been less secure. The Greens went from holding four seats to just one. If a major party with 80-something seats loses three, it’s not a huge concern. But when you only have four seats, losing three is significant.

The tension for the Greens here is that there’s a big difference between getting a consistent vote in the Senate and winning a lower house seat. In the upper house, with a national vote around 12–13%, you can get those senators elected—as the Greens did. That’s very different from the lower house, where to win a seat consistently in Australia, you probably need a primary vote of over 40%.

So, what happened in the last election was, in part, a correction from the election before, where the Greens won some seats due to the preferential system—which we’ll talk about in a bit. Then, the surge of the left-wing Labor Party and the collapse of the right-wing Liberal Party meant the alignment of the top three candidates in those seats changed order, and so the Greens lost three of their seats. I don’t think it was necessarily a rejection of their platform or leadership style. I think part of it is just that when you have lower house seats, sometimes you win them, and sometimes you lose them.

Democratic Populism Must Be Modeled, Not Just Preached

You’ve emphasized the role of legitimacy and power dynamics in how political actors—especially civil society organisations (CSOs)—mobilize support. How do you see populist rhetoric reshaping public perceptions of legitimacy among CSOs and minor parties?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: It’s a danger when we’re thinking about populist rhetoric and the kinds of messages that appeal—especially the populist messages that resonate with people. Whether it’s in parts of Europe, the UK, the United States, or even Australia, it’s important to recognize that we shouldn’t simply write off those who respond to that rhetoric as anti-democratic or undemocratic. Often, there’s a real response to the political and social conditions people are experiencing—a demand for a greater say.

That said, this demand is definitely exploited by parts of the right. The way figures like Donald Trump, Nigel Farage, or right-wing leaders in Europe talk about democracy and legitimacy tends to be very narrow, even neoliberal. It’s framed as: “Here’s a problem, I will fix it,” placing all power in one individual—which we know is dangerous and can lead to autocracy.

I was rereading some notes this afternoon from Chantal Mouffe’s For a Left Populism—probably the one major piece of populism literature I’ve read—where she talks about the need for a form of left-wing populism. One that responds to the same concerns people have: the sense of being disenfranchised, the widening gap between the better-off and the less well-off. The left can respond to that—and as Mouffe suggests, and I would argue, the Greens in Australian politics do this—in ways that expand democracy rather than contract it.

For civil society organizations as well, there’s a crucial role: they need to be exemplars of democratic behavior and democratic activity. Because if CSOs and left-wing minor parties aren’t showing what democratic populism or left populism can look like, people are just going to turn to right-wing organizations instead.

Populists Exploit Gaps—But CSOs Must Defend Democratic Advocacy

Crowds hold “Say Yes to Cutting Carbon Pollution” and “Clean Energy” signs during a World Environment Day rally in Brisbane, Australia, on June 6, 2011. Photo: Dreamstime.

Your typology of CSO activities outlines both service delivery and systemic advocacy. How do you see populist actors either co-opting or challenging these CSO functions, especially during elections?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: That’s a good question. In the most recent election in Australia, a quite populist right-wing figure in the form of a coal baron—Clive Palmer—ran under the Trumpet of Patriots party. He spent millions and millions of dollars on billboards, social media advertising, and I think pretty much everyone in Australia received about four text messages from him during the campaign. His message included quite a few universalist claims like free education or canceling student debt—what we might call socialist concerns that genuinely resonate with people. That’s clearly a response to public concerns, but of course, there was no intention to follow through. And in the end, Trumpet of Patriots actually lost ground in the election.

On the advocacy side, we’ve also seen right-wing governments in Australia work to delegitimize advocacy as a function of civil society organizations and NGOs. Over the last 40–50 years, we’ve had roughly 20–25 years of right-wing governments, and they’ve consistently tried to undermine the ability of these organizations to engage in advocacy. Their argument is essentially, “We give NGOs money, so they should just deliver services and stop speaking out.”

Even left-wing governments, at times, take the attitude that civil society organizations should help them get elected—and then be quiet and let them govern without criticism. So it’s a real challenge. For me, systemic advocacy is a crucial democratic function. Civil society organizations play a vital role in sustaining a pluralist society, ensuring that multiple voices are heard in the political system.

In discussing power distribution within civil society, you raise concerns about homogeneity in the Climate 200 movement. How might this lack of diversity undermine their capacity to challenge right-wing populism and broaden their democratic appeal?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: So the Climate 200 independents in Australia are very middle class, and they’re very white. In Australia’s political spectrum, you might identify five main positions. You have the centre-left Australian Labor Party, the centre-right Liberal-National Coalition, and to the left of Labor, parties like the Greens. On the far-right, you have parties like One Nation—a very populist right-wing movement that, thankfully, has not been particularly electorally successful despite being around for some time. Then, in the middle of all that, you have Climate 200 and the independents they support.

These Climate 200-backed independents are very much centrist, middle-class, and white. I don’t think Climate 200 is positioned to meaningfully challenge right-wing populism. Rather, I see them as representing a realignment within the centre-right of Australian politics. So no, I don’t think they are a challenge to right-wing populism—I think they’re just a soft shift back toward the centre for parts of the Liberal Party’s traditional base.

People Want Vision, Not Parliamentary Machinations

You were critical of Adam Bandt’s leadership being perceived as too ‘insider’ or technocratic. In the context of Australian populism, how important is anti-elitist performance or outsider image, even for progressive candidates?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: I think it’s very important. My criticism of the Greens during the election was more about the lead slogan or the message they had in the campaign. Basically, they pitched around the potential role the Greens could play in a minority government, and that was a lot of the messaging they were putting forward. Even the Climate 200 independents were doing something similar. A lot of polling in the lead-up to the elections showed the potential for a minority government, so both the Greens and Climate 200 were pitching into that.

Late in the campaign, it became reasonably clear that the right-wing National Party wasn’t campaigning effectively, and their vote was collapsing. It became increasingly likely that the Labor Party would reclaim government with a larger majority. As a result, the technocratic message of the Greens didn’t really cut through—or at least didn’t appear to resonate with voters, in my view.

To the substance of the question: I think people are tired of that kind of talk. They don’t want to hear politicians discussing the machinations of Parliament—whether it’s minority government, who’s going to do what, or preferences and who’s going to prefer whom. People want to hear politicians talk about ideas and present a vision for Australia that’s bold yet realistic. So I think it’s a real problem if we don’t have political parties—and if a left-wing movement like the Greens isn’t articulating that vision clearly—because then they’re just falling into that more elitist style of politics.

The Greens’ emphasis on housing and renters’ rights was arguably a populist move, targeting a disenfranchised demographic. Do you think this issue can serve as a long-term populist wedge against both major parties, or was it electorally premature?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: I don’t think it was electorally premature. The Greens in Australia have been campaigning on housing at the state and federal levels for 10 to 15 years, if not a little more. There are places in Australia where there are more renters in electorates than there are homeowners. There’s an increasing demographic of people in Australia who are locked out of the housing market. It’s not just young people—there are people getting older, people around my age, who have been and will be lifelong renters.

Another aspect is that the rental system in Australia is heavily geared towards landlords, and so the power distribution between landlords and renters is very imbalanced. So I think it’s a perfect issue for the Greens and other social democratic institutions to campaign on. The political discourse in Australia for the last three years has been heavily dominated by housing.

The government has invested a lot of money. The Greens were able to negotiate about an extra $3 billion from the government for housing in the last term. But the problems around housing are not going to go away. The price of houses is going up, the price of rents is going up. There are no, as yet, systemic changes to the incentives for people to just buy investment properties and raise the rents again and again.

Emotion Isn’t New—But It Needs to Be Backed by Facts

An elderly woman prays amidst a busy crowd in Sydney, Australia. Photo: Martin Graf.

You argue that civil society groups often deploy emotionally charged messaging (e.g. “Truth,” “Stop Dutton”). Is this a sign of populist communication logic seeping into the mainstream left, or a necessary rhetorical strategy in the current media landscape?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: There’s nothing new about emotionally charged messaging in politics—on the left or the right. It’s a very common tool to mobilize supporters, get votes, and prompt people to take action. Emotion is a powerful political tool. I don’t think it’s necessarily tied to some kind of populist communication logic.

If you think about common framing devices used to get people engaged, one key example from the union movement is the “anger, hope, action” frame—which is still widely used today. You communicate something the opponent has done that makes people angry, then offer a sense of hope—saying we can do something about it—and finally, you give them an action: volunteer, protest, take to the streets. That frame is used by both the left and the right.

So no, emotionally charged language isn’t new. In fact, I think one mistake early on—particularly in the climate movement—was assuming that governments make decisions based on evidence. A lot of policy and progressive-minded people have believed that rational arguments alone will win the day. That’s a nice rationalist view, but I don’t think it’s ever truly been the case.

Balanced messaging needs both facts and emotion. The strongest messaging I’ve seen from either the workers’ rights movement or the climate movement in Australia combines solid facts with emotional language, compelling music, and strong visuals to connect with people. Getting people to make decisions is often driven by emotion. So yes, you need emotional rhetoric—it’s just a question of whether you can back it up with facts, or whether, as in the case of some populist figures in various places, you’re just full of shit.

Preferential Voting Acts as a Democratic Stopgap Against Populist Surges

Australia’s preferential voting system has helped both minor parties and independents. Do you think this electoral setup inadvertently creates fertile ground for populist insurgents, or does it actually moderate them compared to first-past-the-post systems?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: I think it’s the latter. Australia’s electoral system—and our system of government more broadly—means that Australia is largely governed from the center. We have compulsory voting, so you’re not just competing to get a small subset of people to vote—everyone votes. We also have preferential voting, which means that votes tend to flow toward one or the other of the major parties.

The third aspect is our proportional upper house. So for me, Australia’s political system functions as a kind of stopgap on populism and right-wing insurgency. We’ve had right-wing populist figures elected in Australia before, but they don’t seem particularly good at staying elected. In our research, we’ve found that many of the One Nation MPs who got elected often quit the party within 12 to 18 months and end up standing as independents. There’s a real fragmentation among the right in Australia—they don’t really have their act together in terms of getting elected, staying elected, and forming a sustained political force.

So while the preferential system might help third-party candidates get elected, it’s different from first-past-the-post systems like in the US or UK, where other voices are often completely locked out. That can suppress pluralism to the point where pressure builds and eventually erupts in some kind of populist insurgency. In contrast, Australia’s system allows for those moments of political breakthrough—a sudden rise of a particular voice in a community—but it also contains built-in checks and balances. So, for me, it functions as a pretty effective stopgap against populist insurgency.

Reclaiming Democracy Means Breaking the Corporate-Politics Conveyor Belt

Two businessmen shaking hands as Australian banknotes fall around them. Photo: Dreamstime.

Given the increasing number of independents and minor party MPs, what reforms—if any—do you believe are necessary to maintain the integrity and functionality of parliamentary democracy in Australia?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: One of the biggest problems in Australia—and I think it’s probably the same in other liberal Western democracies—is the impact of big business on government and the broader issue of state capture. Some of the reforms that have been proposed in Australia include making ministers’ diaries and politicians’ diaries transparent, so the public can see exactly who is meeting with whom.

Another reform area involves strengthening laws around the declaration of interests—what politicians might own or have investments in—and addressing the issue of the “conveyor belt” from Parliament directly into high-paying jobs in industry. This same conveyor belt also often runs from student politics into Parliament and then into lucrative private sector roles. It’s a trajectory that tends to skip real work experience and meaningful community engagement.

So, trying to reclaim government for the community—by increasing transparency and breaking that closed loop between politics and corporate power—is a really important step for maintaining the integrity of parliamentary democracy.

Do you think the Greens face a strategic identity crisis: trying to be a party of responsible governance while also holding onto their roots in protest and radical critique? Is this tension a barrier to populist appeal and a strength in a polarized political climate?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: I think this tension is a good thing. It’s a healthy and important tension for a social democratic party on the left to have. It revolves around the connection that parties like the Greens maintain with the social movements they emerged from—whether that’s the environmental movement, the peace and nonviolence movements, or socialist movements in different parts of the country. These are deep, activist roots. On the other side of the tension are the elected parliamentarians, their staff, and those working to gain office and participate in running the country and forming government.

That’s a tension because some people might argue that the Greens should always stay a protest party—that their role is to represent activists and not be compromised by being in Parliament. And others might say, “Well, what’s the point of being in Parliament if you can’t actually go on to form government at some point?” So I think that tension is really useful. It helps to keep a party like the Greens connected to their roots and accountable to those roots.

The Australian Labor Party—one of the more successful labor parties in the world—still has very strong connections to the union movement, and the union movement is still able to discipline the Labor Party. That’s a tension too. The Labor Party can’t structurally drift away from its base in the way that the Democrats have in the US, for example. It’s just not structurally possible at this point.

So, those tensions are really important in parties—particularly in left-wing parties. It makes it harder for them to have a populist appeal, especially the older and more successful they become. As parties become more institutionalized, people want to take fewer risks because they’re interested in keeping their jobs or getting more people elected. But if you’ve got that tension—whether it’s from environmental movements, socialist movements, workers’ rights movements, peace and nonviolence movements—then you’ve got voices that can appeal to people in a populist way that speaks to their genuine democratic concerns for better representation.

Boldness Without Believability Risks Falling Flat

Protesters at the No Carbon Tax Rally in Canberra, Australia, on March 23, 2011. Photo: Phillip Minnis.

Bob Brown called for greater boldness from the Greens. In your view, what would ‘boldness’ actually look like in the current political climate? Is there a risk of boldness tipping into populist demagoguery?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: If boldness is not coupled with a sense of realism and believability—like I was mentioning before—then it risks falling flat. Clive Palmer and the Trumpet of Patriots were out there during the election saying they were going to give everyone free education, completely wipe out student debts, and do a whole lot of things. Some of it sounded quite good, but people didn’t believe them. People didn’t have faith that they would actually do those things.

So, boldness needs to be accompanied by legitimacy, and that’s something a party like the Greens does have. People can believe what the Greens are talking about. The Greens have been in Parliament now for well over a decade. They can point to reforms they’ve championed or contributed to—including the creation of a National Integrity Commission, action on climate change, and, as I mentioned before, securing extra funding for housing. People have seen the Greens deliver, so I think that has bought them, for lack of a better word, a degree of political capital they can spend on advocating for bold policies.

In that sense, I agree with Bob Brown. Boldness is about selling a compelling vision of what Australia’s future could be. I read an article today about the new Greens leadership where a former leader was saying, “We didn’t have new policies; we were just talking about the same things we’ve been talking about for 10 years.” And he said that as though he was proud of it. But for me, maybe that’s not the kind of message people wanted to hear. Perhaps they needed something different, especially when so much of the campaign was focused on the prospect of minority government.

So yes, boldness is important—but it needs to be grounded in legitimacy and an ability to achieve tangible outcomes in Parliament. The Greens have that, through their balance of power in the Senate and their track record of working in and around government.

Australia’s Institutions Also Act as a Stopgap Against Populist Surges

Finally, with the continuing fragmentation of both the left and right in Australian politics, do you foresee a populist surge from the right akin to the US or Europe—or is the Australian political system too institutionally embedded for such movements to dominate?

Dr. Mark Riboldi: This might be wishful thinking, but I do think that Australia has some structural resistance to those kinds of populist surges. That’s not to say there aren’t right-wing populist movements in Australia. I’ve mentioned Pauline Hanson’s One Nation a couple of times. Like other places, we’ve had protest movements around anti-vaxxers, and there are nationalist movements in parts of Australia that have jumped onto those kinds of issues. So we do have an active right-wing nationalist populist presence in Australia.

But I do think our electoral system is a bit of a stopgap for that. We have a proportional Upper House, and the government rarely has control of both houses of Parliament in Australia. Usually, the government is formed with control over the lower house—the House of Government—but in the Senate, they typically have to negotiate, similar to the US system, where passing bills requires working with different coalitions of senators. That serves as a useful check on populism and prevents one party from gaining total control and running rampant over the system.

I also think the preferential voting system helps mitigate that risk. And compulsory voting means people are more engaged in the system—the political pitch in Australia isn’t just to narrow bands of partisan voters, but to the broader political center. All of those things aren’t an antidote per se, but they act as a kind of stopgap. Populist surges in Australia might break in from outside the Parliament, but I don’t think they get a foothold or gain as much institutional power as they do in other places.

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio

Dr. Ragragio: Populism in the Philippines Is Enduring and Evolving

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In this thought-provoking conversation, Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio—Gosling-Lim Postdoctoral Fellow at the University of Michigan—discusses the resilience and transformation of populism in the Philippines. He explores how symbolic narratives of “pro-people, anti-elite” sentiment continue to drive support for dynastic figures like the Dutertes, despite mounting legal scrutiny. From social media toxicity to youth electoral shifts, Dr. Ragragio argues that populism is “here to stay,” shaped by local patronage networks and reinforced by mediatized political performance. He also highlights the importance of civic education and independent journalism as counterforces. This is a timely, incisive analysis of a political culture in flux.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this wide-ranging and incisive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio—Gosling-Lim Postdoctoral Fellow in Southeast Asian Studies at the University of Michigan—offers a sobering yet nuanced analysis of the enduring logic of populism in Philippine politics. With a research focus on media, democracy, and political communication in Southeast Asia, Dr. Ragragio traces how populist discourse and dynastic power have remained mutually reinforcing features of the Filipino political landscape.

“Populism in the Philippines is here to stay,” he affirms, stressing that whether “right-wing, illiberal, or left-wing-oriented,” such formations continue to thrive due to “an enduring clamor for pro-people, anti-elite sentiments” across both national and local arenas. This durability, Dr. Ragragio argues, is not merely rhetorical but structural, anchored in long-standing regional patronage networks and a media ecosystem conducive to symbolic politics.

Reflecting on the Duterte family’s electoral resurgence amid legal controversies—including former President Rodrigo Duterte’s detention at the ICC and Vice President Sara Duterte’s looming impeachment—Dr. Ragragio interprets this revival not simply as continuity, but as a strategic “recalibration of expressions of support” rooted in the “symbolic resilience” of populist narratives. Despite mounting legal and institutional scrutiny, he observes that “support can be sustained, especially at the local level,” even as national opposition gains ground.

Equally compelling is his analysis of political journalism as a contested discursive terrain. “Political journalism has long been a battleground,” Dr. Ragragio notes, shaped by both populist co-optation and democratic resistance. He commends outlets like Rappler and regional campus journalists for expanding critical coverage during the midterm elections, while also warning of the toxic political performance encouraged by algorithmic propaganda on platforms like Facebook.

Crucially, Dr. Ragragio identifies media literacy, civic education, and institutional accountability as key interventions in combating “authoritarian masculinity and political exceptionalism.” Yet he remains realistic about the persistence of dynastic dominance, noting that “a third of the Senate is composed of familial pairs.”

Ultimately, his insights reveal a landscape in flux—where democratic recalibration and populist entrenchment coexist in uneasy tension, and where the future of Philippine democracy hinges on how these competing narratives are mediated, institutionalized, and resisted from below.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio.

From Continuity to Calibration: The Evolving Symbolism of Duterte’s Populist Appeal

Former Philippine President Rodrigo Duterte holds a Galil sniper rifle with outgoing Philippine National Police (PNP) chief Ronald dela Rosa (L) at Camp Crame in Manila on April 19, 2018. Photo: Salma Bashir Motiwala.

Professor Ragragio, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In the light of Rodrigo Duterte’s International Criminal Court (ICC) detention and Sara Duterte’s impeachment trial, how do you interpret the Duterte family’s electoral resurgence as a recalibration of populist performativity rather than a simple continuation of its earlier iteration?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: Thanks very much to the ECPS for this kind invitation. So, your first question really is a hard question already. Just to be clear for your audience—I’m not a political scientist, and I’m not a legal expert. My area really is in media and democracy. I’m particularly focused on news media and independent journalism in the Philippines, and I’m trying to expand that to Southeast Asian countries as well. But I’m very much interested in media populism, and I think this is one of the main thrusts of the ECPS.

Maybe before I go into details, I think it would help if I provide some very brief background about the Philippine midterm elections. We have just recently concluded the midterm elections in the Philippines. Normally, the midterm elections are less enticing compared to the national ones. Why? Because they are usually a referendum or a test of the trust or approval ratings of the current president or the current administration as a whole.

This midterm election that we just had is relatively more colorful—and perhaps some would say more historic—compared to past election cycles because the strong support for the current administration did not stand still. So, I think my key takeaway for this election is that, at least if we look at the national results of the Senate race, the midterm election results are somewhat bad for President Bongbong Marcos. But at the same time, they are also not so good for Vice President Sara Duterte, who is currently—and will eventually be—facing an impeachment trial at the Senate. So, that’s my main takeaway.

Regarding your question, there is obviously a resurgence of support for the Dutertes. If we look at both the national and the regional/local levels, you can see some clear indications that there is indeed a resurgence of support for former President Rodrigo Duterte, who is currently detained at The Hague at the International Criminal Court (ICC) for charges of crimes against humanity, and also for the political clan of the Dutertes in general.

The former President Duterte won the majority race very easily, and his children have also won virtually all key positions in the city of Davao. So, if the question is: Is there a resurgence? The short answer is yes. Is there a recalibration of expressions of support for the Dutertes? There were clear recalibrations—but there are also some emerging, more complicated, mixed expressions of support for the Dutertes.

Populism After Accountability

Does the Duterte camp’s sustained support reflect what you have elsewhere called the “symbolic resilience” of populist narratives, particularly in contexts where legal accountability coexists with popular legitimacy?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: It appears they can. It appears they can sustain this support from the city, from the regional publics, regional voters. But also, there are clear indications that this public support can be cut down— can be trimmed down. 

Again, if we look at the national Senate race in the previous midterm elections, there is no clear and concise support going to the Dutertes, because this midterm election also opened opportunities for non-Dutertes—or anti-Dutertes rather—for supporters of the Liberal opposition, for example, which paved the way for the former Senators Aquino and Pangilinan to win this election cycle. So, yes, the support can be sustained, especially at the local level. But at the national or even regional levels, there might be some strong opposition—and consistent opposition as well—to the Dutertes.

To what extent does the Duterte revival indicate the adaptive strength of populist movements to institutional rupture and legal contestation? Can this be read as a post-accountability phase in Philippine populism?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: Oh, definitely. The resurgence, for example, of so-called young or youth voters—while we don’t yet have concrete data—appears to reflect a consensus among many observers that the youth vote delivered not for the Dutertes or the Marcoses, but rather for independent candidates who articulated strong platforms on governance issues such as agriculture, local livelihood, and basic education. So yes, the short answer to your question is also yes.

The resurgence, for example, of so-called young or youth voters—many of them, well, we have no concrete data yet, but it appears that many observers share a consensus that the young votes, or the youth vote rather, delivered not only for the Dutertes nor the Marcoses, but more on candidates—independent candidates—that spoke well of important platforms of governance, for example, agriculture, local livelihood, basic education, and so on. So yes, the short answer to your question is yes, as well.

Elite Rule in Anti-Elite Clothing

Davao City officials, including Vice President Sara Duterte, celebrated Philippine Independence Day on stage in Davao City, Philippines, on June 12, 2024. Photo: Elvie Lins.

Considering the dynastic entrenchment of both the Dutertes and the Marcoses, how does Philippine populism mediate between elite familial power and its rhetorical positioning as anti-elite, anti-establishment politics?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I’m not an expert in that field—I know there are scholars and political scientists who specialize in familial and patronage politics. But what I can say in response to your question is that anti-establishment expressions remain very much predominant—not only at the national level, but arguably even more so at the local and regional levels. For example, in races for the House of Representatives—what we call the “lower House of Congress”—and in contests for governorships, anti-elite and anti-establishment sentiments are widespread. And, not surprisingly, it’s often the same members of entrenched political families who deploy these very narratives. So yes, it’s a bit toxic, in a sense, to see how anti-elitism and anti-elite rhetoric continue to operate within regional and local elections.

How does the personalization of governance, exemplified by Sara Duterte’s political rhetoric and Rodrigo Duterte’s mayoral campaign from detention, reinforce the mythos of populist indispensability in Philippine political culture?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I think the indispensability aspect of your question relates to the durable brand of politics—and populism in particular—in its right-wing or authoritarian form, which I would emphasize more. There is a clear sense of durability because, in the first place, the Dutertes have held political power in the city of Davao for over two decades. This style—especially its mediated, authoritarian populist expression—has significantly contributed to their continued dominance. And, as you mentioned earlier, several institutional aspects and barriers also reinforce their hold on power. Political patronage is one such mechanism. Moreover, the collaboration between and among political clans in local politics has been instrumental in sustaining this durable brand of governance in Davao.

The Marcos-Duterte Rift and the Strategic Deployment of Populist Performance

Is the current Marcos-Duterte schism a rupture within populist logic itself—or does it signal a competition over the same populist register of “strongman sovereignty” and “political vengeance”?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I wouldn’t really call it a schism or a rupture in the context of populist politics because, first of all, it’s somewhat challenging to identify President Marcos as a populist. Of course, he has some expressions that could resonate or qualify as populist—such as being pro-people. But compared to the brand of populism espoused by former President Rodrigo Duterte, this isn’t really a schism between populist politics; it’s more about politics at large. For example, both President Marcos and Vice President Sara Duterte ran on a so-called platform of unity during the 2022 national elections. However, it only took them about a year—or even less—to realize that there was no unity at all in the brand of politics they had tried to project. So, while populism may not be at the forefront of the schism or rupture between the Marcoses and the Dutertes, if we define populism as an expression of how you resonate with the people—many segments of the public—this is where you can see the potential for both the use and misuse of populist politics.

In your analyses of editorial framing and mediatized nationalism, how has the news media contributed to either normalizing or contesting the discursive legitimacy of the Duterte camp’s post-presidency populism?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: Yeah, it’s a mixed bag. I haven’t yet expanded my study of editorials, but what I can say in relation to the recent midterm election cycle is that some independent news media outlets have done a commendable job of reporting. For example, if you look at the reporting by Rappler—an online news media platform—they expanded their coverage from the national level to include regional and local contexts. Covering regional and local elections has consistently been a challenge not only for national media outlets but even for local ones, largely due to a lack of sufficient manpower to cover election races in the provinces. But this time around, it’s commendable to see how media outlets collaborated with campus journalists—regional campus journalists in particular—who covered important local elections in their respective areas.

Toxic Platforms and Battleground Newsrooms

How would you assess the role of algorithmic propaganda networks, particularly on platforms like Facebook, in sustaining the Duterte narrative as a populist moral crusade amid institutional delegitimization?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I haven’t looked systematically yet at the social media aspect of this midterm election. But I would surmise—based on my very cursory reading of Facebook pages or posts by politicians—that social media platforms, especially Facebook in the Philippines, represent one of the most toxic political environments you can think of. What I mean is that this is where you often see politicians, both national and local, trying to craft or reinforce certain images that will resonate with their target publics.

For example, what makes this environment particularly toxic is that you might see a senatorial candidate who would rather dance and capitalize on his showbiz celebrity charisma on stage than discuss his platform of governance. This is one aspect of what makes social media campaigning more problematic.

Of course, I do not deny that social media platforms can also serve as important avenues for grievances and for the expression of credible sentiments—especially among young voters—who may use these channels to voice their discontent against the administration or any politician, for that matter.

Has political journalism in the Philippines evolved into a form of discursive battleground, where journalists are not just observers but are increasingly cast as either custodians or co-conspirators within populist frameworks?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I think political journalism in the country has been in that state for a long time. A quick backgrounder: Philippine journalism in general—the journalism environment—is regarded as one of the freest, if not the freest, practices of independent journalism in the region. Of course, there are many important and historical experiences by Filipino journalists that have shaped who they are and what they practice today.

So going back to your question, yes, political journalism has long been a discursive battleground for the expression of a variety of political sentiments. You have journalists who may support certain kinds of populist sentiments expressed by the Dutertes, but at the same time, you have journalists who are openly critical of the authoritarian populist sentiments of the leader. And then, of course, you also have some journalists—even some news media outlets—who are not so keen on expressing their political stance. Perhaps they prefer to observe, say, objectivity or nonpartisanship in the way they conduct their journalistic practices. 

Courts, Congress, and the Contest for Accountability in a Populist Legal Order

Militant groups storm the Mendiola Peace Arch near Malacanang Palace during the 64th Universal Declaration of Human Rights to protest alleged violations under the Noynoy Aquino government, Manila, Philippines, December 10, 2012. Photo: Dreamstime.

Drawing from your work on media law and the judiciary, how do you evaluate the potential of institutions like the Senate and the Supreme Court to act as bulwarks against populist legalism—or are they being absorbed into its logics?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I’d like to believe that—or at least have confidence in—institutions of checks and balances. For example, based on my work on the Supreme Court and press freedom in the country, I think there are avenues and strong potential for the Supreme Court to police and regulate extreme incivility coming from politicians and even from government officials.

In the case of the news media, as I mentioned earlier, there is also the potential for journalism—especially independent journalism—to express discontent and actively challenge illiberal politics and authoritarian populist sentiments. But I would go even further and consider the potential of other institutions. For instance, the role of the academia, of universities, and even credible polling or survey firms. These are critical institutions—critical organizations—that can contribute to building a more diverse and more democratic environment.

Is Sara Duterte’s impeachment trial a moment of institutional accountability or a spectacle of juridico-political theater shaped by dynastic rivalry? Given your analysis of the politicization of libel law, to what extent are legal instruments still being weaponized to manufacture legitimacy in the Duterte-Marcos power struggle?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I think there are two main questions there. One has to do with the impeachment trial of the current Vice President. This is definitely an expression of accountability. One thing we need to look at is the upcoming impeachment trial at the Senate, which is scheduled for sometime in July—likely the last week. This will be broadcast live, making the proceedings publicly accessible. What this means is that public sentiment will figure significantly in the way the senators—the sitting senator-jurors—decide on the trial.

That’s one aspect. The other concerns the institutions. I understand there are related libel cases—not only against the Marcoses and the Dutertes, but also involving other politicians. That is something we need to keep a close eye on. Fortunately, there have been recent trends and initiatives by the Supreme Court to take more seriously the question: How exactly do we treat libel? And is there room for the decriminalization of libel as a criminal offense? Because in the Philippines, libel is a criminal offense. I believe we are one of the few countries—if not the only one—left in the world that still treats libel as a criminal offense. So that’s another important development to watch.

Democratic Pluralism from Below?

With the electoral success of figures outside the dynastic duopoly, such as Bam Aquino and Francis Pangilinan, do you perceive a nascent re-articulation of democratic pluralism—perhaps even a counter-populist discourse—emerging from below?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: I’d like to believe that way. I’d like to think that there is really great potential for the Liberal opposition to challenge the toxic brand of authoritarian populism. But at the same time, there are some unfortunate realities. For example, if you look at the upcoming composition of the Senate—we have 24 senators—and a third of them, so we’re talking about eight members, are related to one another. We have four pairs of senators who are siblings. This is really a kind of toxic politics that we need to be critical about. So your question about political dynasty, I hope, is one thing that can be tackled seriously by the resurging Liberal opposition in this election cycle.

What civic, educational, or legal interventions do you view as most urgent to disrupt the entrenched narrative of authoritarian masculinity and political exceptionalism in Philippine populist politics?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: That’s an important question, because we have a lot of discussion in the Philippines—and even in Southeast Asia—on how to combat mis- and disinformation. So, I think that is critical to both political education and even civic education. How, or to what extent, can media literacy develop our astute understanding of what a credible political brand or what a credible political, electoral campaigning slogan really matters.

Populism Is Here to Stay in the Philippines

People flooded the streets of Manila to demand justice for all the victims of extrajudicial killings that happened during the time of President Duterte on June 30, 2021. Photo: Santino Quintero.

Finally, in your view, does the 2025 midterm outcome represent a deepening of the populist-authoritarian paradigm—or does it contain seeds of democratic recalibration amidst an increasingly mediatized and dynastically polarized landscape?

Dr. Jefferson Lyndon D. Ragragio: Well, the short answer is yes to both your questions. First, I think populism is here to stay. I understand there’s a lot of scholarly and public discussion about what populism really is. In many European and American contexts, we tend to distinguish between right-wing populism, left-wing populism, or illiberal populism. In the Philippines, although those categories are present, I think we also see historically and politically distinct forms of populism that deserve more focused attention.

That said, to answer your question—populism in the Philippines is here to stay. Whether we are dealing with right-wing, illiberal, or left-wing-oriented forms, populism persists because there is an enduring clamor for pro-people, anti-elite sentiments that resonate strongly within both national and local political landscapes.

Dr. Maxine Newlands, Adjunct Professor of Political Science at James Cook University in Queensland, Australia, is a leading expert on environmental politics, ocean governance, and media ecosystems.

Dr. Newlands: The Australian Political System Has Stepped Back from Climate Action

by Editor’s ChoiceEnvironment & ClimateHomeInterviews

In this compelling interview, Dr. Maxine Newlands—an expert in environmental politics and ocean governance—warns that the “Australian political system has essentially stepped back from climate change.” Speaking with ECPS, she highlights how rising polarization and populist denialism have rendered climate policy too risky for major parties. “Politicians avoid addressing it altogether,” she explains, noting that even terms like “climate change” were strategically omitted from campaigns. Dr. Newlands critiques the media’s role in spreading disinformation and urges a more pluralistic approach grounded in community voices, Indigenous knowledge, and the Blue Humanities. Her analysis provides a powerful lens into how populist narratives have reshaped Australia’s environmental politics and what it will take to restore trust and democratic inclusion in climate action.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In this in-depth and timely interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Maxine Newlands—a leading expert on environmental politics, ocean governance, and media ecosystems—offers a powerful diagnosis of Australia’s political retreat from climate leadership. Drawing on over a decade of research on the Great Barrier Reef, climate denialism, and populist media strategies, Dr. Newlands, Adjunct Professor in Political Science at James Cook University, Queensland, Australia, outlines how environmental discourse has become increasingly politicized in ways that have paralyzed mainstream policymaking.

“Australian political system has essentially stepped back from [climate change],” she states early in the conversation, framing the issue as a casualty of polarization and populist backlash. As climate change rose in political salience over successive election cycles, so too did opposition to it—especially from the populist right, which “either denies climate change outright or downplays its severity.” This dynamic, according to Dr. Newlands, has left the major parties “highly risk-averse,” with climate no longer functioning as a credible electoral issue.

Reflecting on recent electoral patterns in Australian politics, Dr. Newlands underscores how the Morrison government deliberately avoided the term “climate change” during its campaign, fearing it had become a political liability. This conscious rhetorical avoidance, she argues, exemplifies how populist pressure has warped the national conversation, “creating a vacuum” that has since been filled by more radical or issue-specific groups, such as the Greens or environmental NGOs.

Throughout the interview, Dr. Newlands unpacks how this climate retreat has been reinforced by media manipulation, especially from Rupert Murdoch’s syndicates, and disinformation campaigns that have framed environmental regulation as a threat to sovereignty, jobs, and national identity. These narratives are particularly potent in resource-rich regions like Queensland, where “climate becomes intertwined with concerns over foreign influence” and where populist slogans—like “Don’t take my mining job, and I won’t take your soy latte”—gain traction.

Against this backdrop, she calls for renewed, pluralistic approaches to environmental governance—ones grounded in the arts, Indigenous knowledge systems, and the Blue Humanities—to “open up the narrative” beyond the rigid binaries of denial versus technocracy. In her view, it’s not enough to combat populism with more data or more policy: what’s needed is a new cultural imaginary—one capable of re-enchanting the public’s relationship with nature and democracy alike.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Maxine Newlands.

Populist Pressure Has Made Climate Too Politically Dangerous to Touch

Thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In the light of your work on climate denialism and environmental media, how would you interpret the electoral retreat of both far-right and green populisms in the 2025 federal election? Does this suggest an emergent fatigue with ideological extremes, or a recalibration of populist rhetoric within major party discourse?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: I think it’s worth acknowledging the historical context of where climate change and climate denialism have sat within Australia. There’s been a slow increase over a series of election cycles where climate change has repeatedly been positioned as a key issue. We’ve had many elections branded as the climate change election. In 2019, for example, the narrative from the left focused heavily on net zero targets, climate impacts, and climate mitigation—particularly highlighting the Great Barrier Reef as a central concern.

This buildup has been met with a strong pushback. The conversation became polarized between a populist right that either denies climate change outright or downplays its severity, and a more progressive side where the issue was front and center.

This tension has politicized the debate to such a degree that the Australian political system has essentially stepped back from it. So yes, to an extent, we can ask whether denialism and populism have worked—because climate change has now become such a fraught issue that politicians avoid addressing it altogether. For example, in the election cycle under Scott Morrison, about three or four years ago, his Liberal-National coalition made a conscious decision not to use the term “climate change” at all in their campaign. It had become such a hot-button issue that they feared it would be hijacked or weaponized.

Understanding that landscape is crucial. The constant pressure from the populist movement has made the major parties highly risk-averse regarding climate change as an electoral issue. As a result, that political vacuum has been filled by the Greens, more radical green and environmental groups, and progressive activist and lobbying organizations. So, while there are many engaged stakeholders, the two major parties have adopted a very low-risk appetite when it comes to foregrounding climate change during elections.

Climate Policy Becomes a Battle for Sovereignty in Populist Strongholds

To what extent has the performance of populist environmentalism—particularly among regional independents—relied on symbolic appeals to land, livelihood, and sovereignty? Can these aesthetic registers be disentangled from the exclusionary logics of right-wing nationalism?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: No, is the simple answer. The populist right in Australia is very conservative—protectionist, nationalist—and often views Australia as a self-contained unit, rather than part of a global context. Within that framework, pressures on issues such as UNESCO World Heritage sites, like Kakadu National Park or the Great Barrier Reef, tend to generate highly binary debates.

You’ll see populist groups rejecting the influence of international organizations—typically referencing the UN—insisting that such bodies shouldn’t tell Australia what to do with “our” Great Barrier Reef, for example. This leads to a rejection of external input and turns climate debates into questions of sovereignty and national control.

In this way, the climate conversation becomes intertwined with concerns over foreign influence on domestic policy—particularly on issues like net-zero targets. The “external” becomes an enemy figure for the populist movement, which aligns with a classic populist playbook: identifying an outside threat to rally domestic support.

This tactic is particularly effective in regions like Queensland and Western Australia, both of which are heavily dependent on mining industries. Queensland, notably, is also home to the Great Barrier Reef, making it a focal point for these tensions.

Minor parties such as Pauline Hanson’s One Nation, as well as individual senators, often deploy this narrative, casting environmental policy as a threat to national sovereignty. This frames the issue not as one of ecological stewardship, but as a defense of Australia’s sovereign decision-making over its land, resources, and environment.

Disinformation Turns Reef Policy into a Battlefield of Economics vs. Environment

Coral reef with colorful marine plants in the ocean. Photo: Vitaly Korovin.

Drawing from your research on social media ecosystems, what role did digitally mediated climate disinformation and “blue denialism” play in shaping voter perceptions of reef policy and environmental restoration during the recent electoral cycle?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: This is an interesting one because, as I mentioned earlier, the reef hasn’t played a central role in the election narrative for the last couple of election cycles. In both 2020 and 2022, it wasn’t really part of the core political narrative. In 2019, it featured a bit more prominently, and during that cycle, social media played a significant role—disinformation definitely did as well, as we showed in the paper I co-wrote with my former student.

What we found was that traditional legacy media on the right—particularly Rupert Murdoch’s publications—were central to spreading certain narratives. Many of these are regional outlets, publishing syndicated stories across different communities, and they also produce The Australian, the only national newspaper. These outlets frequently framed stories by questioning environmental policy decisions, particularly focusing on the cost of net-zero policies from the Labor Party to individual voters—essentially promoting an “economics versus the environment” narrative.

This framing is often reinforced by climate denialism from certain political parties. Sometimes it’s outright denial; other times, it’s a refusal to engage with the science around coal burning, CO₂ emissions, or broader human impact.

Social media, in this context, becomes the platform through which these narratives are amplified. That’s where much of the disinformation circulates.

It’s important to note that the media landscape consists of two distinct dynamics: one is the dominant, loud “middle press” or mainstream media echo chamber; the other is a more decentralized network of progressive voices. You essentially get an echo chamber versus a network dynamic.

Because our political landscape is fairly binary, this dynamic tends to favor dominant, populist narratives. Preferential voting does sometimes complicate this, but the arguments remain largely the same—recycled each election cycle.

We hear the same populist talking points echoed in the UK and Europe: that climate change isn’t man-made, that it has nothing to do with coal. Or, if they don’t go down that path, the narrative shifts to fearmongering—claims that electricity bills will skyrocket, the lights will go out, or that renewable energy is unreliable (e.g., “wind turbines only work when it’s windy”). These are classic, well-worn lines used by populist parties everywhere—tried, tested, and repeated in every election cycle.

The Greens’ Paradox of Power in Parliament

How do you interpret the Greens’ simultaneous Senate gains and House losses within the broader context of Australian environmental politics? Does this reflect a strategic misalignment between parliamentary ambitions and the affective terrain of regional constituencies?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: The Greens did really well in the last election—back in 2022—by their standards. They gained two inner-city seats and the seat of Brisbane, which is the capital of Queensland. If you’re not familiar, these seats were heavily affected by flooding caused by heavy rainfall and a cyclone occurring at the same time. That cyclone hit the north of Queensland, and the resulting water flowed southward.

In that context, the Greens performed strongly, winning lower house (House of Representatives) seats. At the time, they already had representation in the Senate, but not as many seats as they do now.

Fast forward to the current cycle, they’ve only retained one of the three lower house seats they previously held in Queensland. This may be partly because people no longer have the same lived experience of those extreme weather events—flooded homes and damaged infrastructure. Voters may have reverted to the major parties: Labor or the Liberal Party.

But as you mentioned, the Greens made gains in the Senate. They now hold 11 Senate seats and, in effect, will hold the balance of power. The Labor Party has the most seats, followed by the Liberal-National Coalition, and then the Greens. If the Greens negotiate effectively with Labor, they could help deliver the 39 or more votes required to pass legislation in the Senate.

This sets the stage for a significant trade bloc—a shift in power. While the Greens have lost ground in the Lower House, where they now hold only one seat, they’ve gained considerable influence in the Senate. Maintaining a working relationship with Labor will be key, especially around contentious climate issues like net-zero targets. Australia has set different emissions targets: one around 2035 and another by 2050. The feasibility of these timelines is under debate.

What I’m trying to say is that, in the last election, Greens benefited more from urban dynamics. Regional factors were less influential. But this time, due to the way Senate seats are allocated—state-wide rather than by individual electorates—regional and preferential votes may have played a bigger role in their Senate success.

We don’t yet have the full data, but it could turn out that this broader, more regional voting base helped the Greens in the Upper House, while they struggled in the urban inner-suburban seats they performed well in last time.

Beyond Technocracy: Reclaiming Ocean Narratives Through the Blue Humanities

Underwater view of the coral reef. Photo: Dreamstime.

Given your leadership in reef restoration policy and blue humanities scholarship, how might populist critiques of technocratic ocean governance—often framed as elite overreach—be constructively re-engaged to foreground environmental justice and democratic inclusion?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: This is an interesting one. Over time, both the Reef Restoration Project and the Blue Humanities have emerged as relatively novel conceptual frameworks. They haven’t been explored or developed to the same extent as broader marine science. We’ve had small-scale reef restoration for quite some time, but at scale—what we’re now attempting—it’s about understanding how ocean systems function together.

It’s important to note that reef restoration has often been framed in binary terms: either we intervene to save the reefs and corals worldwide, or we do nothing and let them die. That binary framing has become problematic, and I think that’s where the perception of elitism comes in. The message becomes: “Either let us do this, or the reef will die.” That kind of either-or position limits the conversation. Initially, around 2017–2018, this was the dominant narrative. But now, there’s growing work focused on reframing our relationship with the ocean—rethinking the narratives around the “blue” and how we interact with it.

For example, in the Reef Restoration Project, one study involved surveys and in-depth interviews with more than 100 people. What they found was that individuals who had direct experiences with the reef—such as snorkeling—developed a stronger connection. They began to see the reef not as a scientific playground but as part of their community.

The Blue Humanities framework opens up this space for dialogue. The goal is to ask: What do we need to do to protect the oceans? How can we address climate change? And crucially, how can we do this without relying solely on science?

There are complementary approaches. The Blue Humanities draw from the arts, social sciences, politics, and history—areas that help people engage with these issues in diverse ways. This helps dismantle elitism and fosters a more participatory action research model, where people can understand and engage based on how their minds work and how they relate to the world.

So yes, I understand your point—it is technocratic, and it can be elitist. And while the scientists working on reef restoration are outstanding, their approach is highly engineered and solution-driven, operating within rigid technocratic systems.

The Blue Humanities—and other interdisciplinary methods—allow us to open up the narrative, create new stories, and still aim toward the same goal: encouraging people to bear witness to what’s happening. The difference is, these stories aren’t confined to foundational or pure science frameworks, like those used within RRAP (Reef Restoration and Adaptation Program).

Restoration Requires Political Will, Not Just Scientific Evidence

What institutional safeguards or communicative strategies would you recommend to inoculate reef science and environmental policy-making against the populist backlash tactics identified in your recent analyses of media manipulation and science skepticism?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: Oh, that’s a PhD in itself—not just a paper. And it’s a hard one, because, as I’ve alluded to, this is part of a global problem. It’s deeply connected to how people receive information and how narratives are framed.

At the end of the day, there is a need for policymakers to recognize that there’s space for restoration and for alternative or complementary methods to more traditional approaches. But it’s a slow process. Regulation can be slow—unless we have a crisis like the pandemic, where we clearly demonstrated that things can move quickly when needed.

Still, this is something that requires political will—and that’s not unique to Australia. It applies globally, whether you’re talking about coral reef restoration or broader ecosystem restoration, including marine and terrestrial systems, which have been studied and implemented far longer than ocean restoration.

I think it’s really about a convergence of efforts and, importantly, about shifting the broader mindset. That includes scientists being honest and realistic about what large-scale restoration can actually achieve—and then crafting policies that support and enable those realistic goals.

Women Wanted to Be on the Front Line—Not in the Kitchen

Photo: Dreamstime.

In your work on gender and environmental activism (e.g., Knitting Nannas and anti-fracking movements), how do you see the gendered performance of care and stewardship contrasting with masculinist populist narratives of control, particularly in climate policy debates?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: There are a couple of things I think of here. It’s very interesting that, in the last election cycle in Australia, we saw the emergence of what some have called the “Teals.” These are independents who prioritize climate change mitigation and adaptation as core policy issues, while also adopting an economically pragmatic approach. Although they are all independents, many began receiving financial support from Climate 200 in 2019. What’s notable is that many of these independents are community-based or city-based—and predominantly women. Not exclusively, of course—there are men in the mix—but there is a gendered dynamic worth highlighting.

There’s a connection here to movements like the Knitting Nannas. In both cases, these women have encountered patriarchal systems that try to define their roles and restrict their participation. In mainstream politics, as well as within broader activist spaces, this has often meant being side-lined or pigeon-holed.

One anecdote from the Knitting Nannas stands out. That group, a female-led anti-fracking movement, emerged partly because women involved in broader environmental groups—such as Lock the Gate—found themselves confined to “traditional” support roles, like cooking at protest camps, instead of being allowed front-line or leadership roles. They wanted to be out there, leading, visible, and equal. So they created a space where they could do that—and the act of knitting became a form of peaceful resistance and identity.

I think we are seeing a broader gender shift, particularly within activism and increasingly within the independent political movement. Women are stepping forward—not because this is solely a gender issue, but because they are reaching a point where their leadership is more visible and impactful.

It’s also important to remember that, since Federation in 1901, Australia has only had one female Prime Minister. But now, things are shifting. The deputy leader of the Liberal Party is Susan Ley, and the Greens’ Senate leader is Larissa Waters, while Prime Minister Anthony Albanese leads the Labor government.

So we’re seeing change, particularly in a political culture as historically conservative as Australia’s. Movements like the Teals, community independents, and the philanthropic and grassroots funding that supports them are helping make that change possible. It feels like we’re witnessing the beginnings of a move toward greater gender parity within the political system.

Time Will Tell If Hyper-Local Politics Can Dislodge Extractive Power

Given the strategic expansion of community independents into regional and rural electorates, how sustainable is their model of hyper-local environmental governance amid the entrenched political economies of extractivism and agrarian populism?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: I think time will tell. I know that’s a very wishy-washy answer, but ultimately, time will be the judge—particularly in Australia. We’ll see whether Australia follows a pattern observed elsewhere in the world, where voters move away from the traditional two major parties and toward independents and minor parties, especially because of hyper-local issues that directly affect them.

These include concerns like healthcare, education, early childhood care, and other day-to-day needs. The community independents tend to frame their approach not through the lens of agrarian politics, but through the broader needs of the community. They present themselves as advocates for the community as a whole, rather than emphasizing any one specific sector.

We’re seeing independents increasingly occupy that space, while, in some states, traditional conservative parties—particularly the Liberals (who are the conservative party in Australia)—appear to be retreating from regional and rural constituencies.

If we look at the last election, for example, the National Party—a right-leaning, rural-focused party—lost only one seat, whereas the Liberals lost many more. The Nationals, with their agrarian populist base, largely retained their support. While there are both progressive and populist factions within that party, they have managed to hold on to their core constituencies.

This suggests that agrarian populism still resonates in regional Australia. Meanwhile, the Liberals are struggling to define their role in these areas, which has sparked ongoing debate about whether the coalition between the Liberal and National parties can or should continue in its current form.

So yes, voters are turning to independents and to the Nationals to represent regional issues—but whether this momentum continues over multiple election cycles or proves to be a one-off anomaly remains to be seen.

The Blue Humanities Help Us Tell Ocean Stories Through Plural Voices, Not Just Science

To what extent can the cultural narratives embedded in the Blue Humanities reconfigure public imaginaries of marine ecologies in ways that resist populist reductionism and foster more pluralistic ocean ethics?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: The key with that would be to have that kind of variety of pluralistic voices. As we talked about earlier, it’s about having a different lens in the way that you tell the story of the ocean. One of the key ways of doing that, I would suggest, is through co-design with Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander people, particularly in Australia.

They have lived on the land for a lot longer—65,000 years. They understand how the land and the oceans work. They understand the cycles and the way the system functions. And something like the Blue Humanities is not about co-opting or imposing; it’s clearly about understanding different ways of thinking and different ways of looking for solutions.

So it’s certainly not about cultural adaptation of Indigenous knowledge, but being willing to at least understand it and learn about it. And then, you have two different systems running in Australia, particularly around marine science. There are projects by the Australian Institute for Marine Science, for example, where they have a whole division or strand—I’m not quite sure of the technical term—that’s very much around assisting Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander peoples.

But it’s also about giving them autonomy and support to do their own projects. And at the same time, you have the scientists understanding that when they go onto sea country, when they go on country, respect needs to be shown. And that isn’t something that was happening ten years ago.

So, looking at the Blue Humanities and the cultural components that make up Australia, it’s not about adopting those perspectives, but about recognizing, understanding, accepting, and seeing how those two things can possibly work together—whether side by side or through a process of co-design. And obviously, it’s about collaboration. The Blue Humanities—this is why we have authors from Torres Strait and elsewhere—is to try and explain to people who may not be familiar how you can understand the relationship with water, the ocean, and the marine space in a way that isn’t rooted in that traditional, science-based, pure science, basic science kind of approach.

It’s Either Jobs and Mining or Nothing—That’s the Binary We Must Move Beyond

Active quarry with machinery and gravel, crushing rock to supply the Adani Carmichael mine in Central Queensland, Australia. Photo: Inge Blessas.

How should we understand the electoral backlash in coal-reliant regions as both a repudiation of top-down climate policy and a symptom of deeper socio-economic dislocation? Can climate justice be effectively articulated in such communities without capitulating to extractive populism?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: I think it can. The classic example that comes to mind is Queensland. In Queensland, we have strong senators who have adopted some of those populist strategies. But at the end of the day, those communities have been heavily reliant on the mining industry. The mining industry has been a key source of employment.

The political debate has often been framed around the loss of jobs. But there is just about enough space within those communities for alternatives. So we hear about things like just transition—moving away from those mining industries. And by mining, I mean fossil fuel mining, coal, etc.

I’m looking more specifically at those areas. But we are still mining in Australia—it’s about creating communities that are provided with an alternative, so those communities don’t just die off because the industry has moved away.

By the same token, we still have a lot of coal mining in those areas. For example, what used to be the Adani mines, now operated by Bravus, is a key player in that region.

That’s where the tension and electoral backlash come from. You’ve also got embedded conservative values in that state, which are tapped into by populist narratives that frame things around a North-South divide—“us and them.”

We had a classic campaign run by the Nationals in 2019. Our two biggest cities—Sydney and Melbourne—are south of Queensland. They ran a bumper sticker campaign with a slogan along the lines of, “If you don’t take my mining job, I won’t take your soy latte.” That created a binary opposition—don’t tell us what to do, we need the mines for our jobs and families.

That kind of populist rhetoric around coal was up against significant activism, like the Stop Adani campaign, which aimed to prevent the mine from opening. We’re still trying to find pathways for these communities to transition, but you’re right: the backlash has come because of that binary—it’s either jobs and mining or nothing.

That kind of framing makes the debate difficult. But ultimately, those communities will have to find alternatives—or rather, policymakers and governments must create them. One of the conversations we’ve had recently was around nuclear. Australia has a moratorium on nuclear power; we don’t have nuclear power stations, just one nuclear facility used for research and medical purposes.

They were trying to introduce the debate around nuclear power as an alternative for those communities, but that hasn’t worked. It’s not a viable long-term solution.

So that kind of repudiation is now folded into a broader debate around what we do next. But it’s increasingly becoming a grassroots, community-based debate. These communities are being held up as either the victims or the winners of whatever policy is yet to be decided.

We Haven’t Got That Far-Right Green Appropriation

And finally, Professor Newlands, do you perceive any co-optation of environmental discourse by far-right actors—such as eco-nationalism or green nativism—and if so, how should progressive movements strategically differentiate themselves in such contested semiotic terrain?

Dr. Maxine Newlands: I’m not sure we have that kind of extreme right-wing environmental discourse in Australia. Are you referring to the kind of green anarchism or radical eco-politics sometimes discussed on the far left? If so, not really. We certainly have a wide range of progressive groups—lobby organizations like GetUp, activist networks, and foundations such as the Bob Brown Foundation—but I don’t think any of them operate at the level you’re describing, at least not with significant electoral impact. It’s not something that has featured prominently in recent election cycles. There may be minor parties or independents entertaining such ideas, but that kind of radical or anarchist spectrum doesn’t really factor into mainstream political debate here, including within the Greens.

We have people that are more proactive, and people and organizations that host events. They may put on a protest, they’ll stage a high-profile action, or they’ll take their position to Canberra in order to generate public awareness. I’m thinking of organizations led by former leaders of the Greens, for example, like the Bob Brown Foundation. But to the point of it being anarchic, I would say personally I’m not aware of anything like that—that doesn’t mean it’s not there, but it’s hard to measure.

You’ve kind of got the middle ground. You’ve got Labor, which is progressive to the left on the environment, and they’re introducing their net zero targets. They have a whole suite of regulation and policy under the umbrella of “nature positive,” which includes things like biodiversity credits as well as net zero. Then you have the Greens, a little further left, and maybe a couple of others. But they generally tend to be more activist, lobby, or advocacy groups—things like the Environmental Defenders Office, which is a group of lawyers that help or advise activists like the Knitting Nannas.

But we haven’t got that far-right green appropriation to any significant degree. Let’s see what happens—it’s interesting that the Liberals lost so many seats this time around. It gives Labor, and as I said earlier with the Senate, a much bigger block to get things through.

For example, in the last election there was a bit of caution about whether the whole suite of environmental policy and regulation under “nature positive” would get through, so it was withdrawn. We would probably expect to see a version of that come back now, because there’ll be more confidence in getting those sorts of measures passed—which, of course, naturally negates any of those more far-right amplifiers, because the main political parties are already doing what those voices might be demanding in terms of regulation.

Dr. Josh Roose

Dr. Roose: Election Results Were a Rejection of Trumpist-Style Populism in Australia

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In a compelling interview with ECPS, political sociologist Dr. Josh Roose unpacks the 2025 Australian federal election, arguing it marked “a resounding rejection of Trumpist-style populism.” Dr. Roose explores how Liberal leader Peter Dutton’s strongman image backfired, while Labor’s inclusive yet grounded masculinity resonated with urban voters—especially women. He warns, however, of far-right undercurrents and rising generational and economic divides. Reflecting on political masculinities, Islamophobia, and online extremism, Dr. Roose calls for educational and legislative reforms to bolster democratic resilience. A timely deep dive into Australia’s populist landscape—and a must-read for scholars and studenst of global politics.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a sweeping analysis of Australia’s 2025 federal election results, Dr. Josh Roose—a political sociologist and Associate Professor at the Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation—offers a compelling assessment of what he calls “a rejection of Trumpist-style populism in Australia.” Speaking to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Roose contextualizes the electoral defeat of Liberal Party leader Peter Dutton within a broader international trend, noting, “What we saw in Canada—where Trump backed the right and attacked Canada, and people mobilized against that and favoured the political left—played out in a very similar vein here.”

Throughout the interview, Dr. Roose explores the dynamics of Australia’s right-wing populism, which has been notably influenced by US political discourse. He underscores how attempts to “personalize Trump through Dutton” and flirt with alt-right masculinity narratives—such as “strong men create good times, weak men create tough times”—largely backfired, particularly among urban professionals and women voters. In this context, he points to Anthony Albanese’s reelection as emblematic of a political style that is both masculine and inclusive: “He doesn’t walk away from traditional working-class masculinity… but he does so in a way that is far more popular and acceptable to women.”

While the Labor Party’s landslide victory marks a historic realignment, Dr. Roose also cautions against complacency. He observes that far-right parties, including Pauline Hanson’s One Nation and the pro-Trump “Trumpet of Patriots,” collectively garnered 10–12% of the vote in some electorates—indicating persistent, if marginalized, populist undercurrents.

Dr. Roose also situates these electoral shifts in the context of deeper transformations in political legitimacy and authority. “The traditional authoritarian mode of politics with a strongman leader… is being resoundingly rejected,” he argues, especially by younger and more diverse electorates. However, he notes that Australia’s deeply masculinist political culture is only gradually giving way to more inclusive norms, catalyzed in part by pandemic-era changes to work and caregiving.

Drawing on his expertise in counter-extremism, Dr. Roose concludes with a call for civic and institutional interventions, from regulating online hate speech to embedding models of “healthy masculinity” in educational curricula. “We need a masculinity that is strong, but also nurturing… capable of moving beyond the ego,” he asserts.

Dr. Roose’s analysis offers both an in-depth case study of Australia’s evolving political terrain and a timely contribution to the global debate on the future of populism, masculinity, and democratic resilience in the post-Trump era.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Josh Roose.

It’s a Rejection of Trumpist-Style Populism Here in Australia

An Australian Labor poster targeting Peter Dutton at an early voting polling station in Heidelberg, Melbourne, Victoria, on April 26, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Josh Roose, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In the  light of your work on populist political masculinities, how do you interpret the electorate’s resounding rejection of Peter Dutton’s leadership? Does this signify a critical juncture for the trajectory of right-wing populism in Australia?

Dr. Josh Roose: Great question. There’s a lot to unpack from this election, and we are nowhere near having all the data necessary to do so. My broad take on this comes down to two or three main points. First, it’s a rejection of Trumpist-style populism here in Australia. What we saw in Canada—where Trump backed the right and attacked Canada, leading people to mobilize against that and favor the political left—played out in a very similar vein here.

Australia hasn’t been immune to, for example, Trump-style tariffs, nor to the influence of members of the right faction of the Liberal opposition. For clarity, in Australia, the Liberal Party is the political right, unlike the US. Elements of Trumpist populist politics were embraced. For instance, one of the key figures, Jacinta Price—a prominent Aboriginal politician opposed to the Voice referendum, which would have given Indigenous Australians a voice to Parliament—was seen wearing “Make Australia Great Again” hats. She said this slogan publicly on the campaign trail.

There was also an effort to personalize Trump through Dutton. He even spoke about bringing in a DOJ-style department in Australia. That went down like an absolute lead balloon, particularly in urban areas with educated professionals.

That said, and somewhat concerningly, there was a surge to the far right that hasn’t yet been fully unpacked. In many seats, the One Nation Party—led by Pauline Hanson, a well-known figure on the populist right—performed strongly. They have, in some ways, become a more mainstream right-wing party, gaining more votes.

Additionally, the embarrassingly pro-Trump party called “The Trumpet of Patriots,” led by a mining billionaire, didn’t gain seats but still garnered 2–3% of the vote in many electorates. Combined with One Nation, that amounts to roughly 10–12% in a lot of areas.

So, while there was a surge toward the governing Labor Party, there was also a push to the right. The Liberal Party now finds itself wedged between its hard-right base and its more centrist, slightly progressive wing. Just today, they held a post-election leadership vote. The result was 28 to 25 in favor of the Moderates. The Australian Liberal Party now has its first female leader in the party’s history.

There Was a Strong Repudiation of Trumpist Politics

To what extent can Albanese’s re-election be read as a repudiation of the rhetorical and symbolic frameworks commonly associated with ‘strongman’ populism, or does it rather suggest a recalibrated centrism in response to global political volatility?

Dr. Josh Roose: Another good question. In many ways, Peter Dutton, the opposition leader, really struggled to overcome his past as a strongman. He had various portfolios when the Liberal Party was in government—Home Affairs, among others—and he was a former policeman who spoke extremely firmly about crime and other areas, which are traditional fodder for the political right and the populist right. So he struggled to overcome that. 

Albanese paints himself very much as a centrist, moderate leader—the everyman. He shows up at Rugby League games, so he doesn’t walk away from masculinity or distance himself from traditional working-class masculinity. He seeks to embrace it, but he does so in a way that is far more popular and acceptable to women. Female voters, in particular, really turned significantly against the Liberal opposition in this election.

So, in the context of what’s going on globally, that played an important role. We’re yet to determine—based on the data, interviews, and upcoming research—just how important it was. But I do think there was a strong repudiation of Trumpist politics. Trump’s done more in his first 100 days to unite the world, in many respects—particularly among people in countries with elections coming up. You could argue that the conclave and the new Pope are also, to some extent, potentially indicative of this.

So, I think we’re seeing a reaction and a backlash to Trumpist politics in the developed world. And it will be really interesting to see how that plays out in the developing world.

Australian Prime Minister Anthony Albanese attends the national memorial service for Queen Elizabeth II. Photo: Dreamstime.

No Appetite for Trumpism Even Amid a Cost-of-Living Crisis

Given the transnational dimensions of populism, particularly the re-election of Donald Trump in the US, how do you assess the ‘Trump effect’ in shaping Australian political sensibilities and its potential backfire in this electoral cycle?

Dr. Josh Roose: Trump has a strong following among segments of the political right here. They embrace not only the ultra-nationalist, self-interested approach, but also a nostalgia for a long-lost past that he successfully mobilized in the US election—this idea that men are being hard done by, the notion of “woke” politics, and so on. There’s still a strong element of that in Australian politics. By no means has that gone away. 

In fact, elements of the opposition party have talked about needing to double down, arguing that the only reason they didn’t win the election was because they weren’t strong enough in embracing that extreme rhetoric. But I think, for the most part, there is no appetite for it—which is quite amazing given that we’re facing a significant cost of living crisis here, a global phenomenon at the moment. Housing is increasingly unaffordable; the average price of a house in Sydney and Melbourne now hovers around a million dollars. We’ve got a younger generation locked out of the housing market. 

But what we’re seeing is that the older generation—the so-called boomer generation—is effectively becoming a minority in the electorate. We’re seeing younger people come through who are looking for more progressive policies and politics that speak to them, that resonate with their concerns about building a better life, having a chance of owning a home, starting a family, and so on.

So, it’s going to be really interesting to see how this plays out. But, it’s fair to say that, unless something quite incredible happens, this is now a two-term Labor government. Given their majority—I think it’s 91 seats in Parliament, which is just about historically unprecedented—we could be looking at at least three terms, possibly four. That gives the governing Labor Party a real chance to institute a progressivist agenda. They’ve got to play their cards right—they can’t come across as radical or overly focused on dramatic change. This could shape Australian politics for the next 20 to 30 years if things continue on their current trajectory.

Strongman Model Is Being Rejected by Young and Female Voters

Considering your research on political identity and citizenship, how might the 2025 election result reshape our understanding of political legitimacy and representative authority in the context of populist decline?

Dr. Josh Roose: If we’re talking about authority, we’ve got to look at what resonates with young people, because young people are increasingly shaping political outcomes—and women are increasingly shaping political outcomes. So, this authoritarian, hierarchical decision-making model, which has defined Australian politics since Federation—over a hundred years—is becoming less viable.

In a world of social media, where everyone is a publisher, where everyone has an opinion and demands to be heard, especially in a society with an education system that encourages critical thinking and resilience, I don’t think there’s an appetite for the traditional authoritarian mode of politics with a strongman leader. I think people resoundingly reject it.

Ironically, those who are most susceptible to such narratives tend to be the weakest and most vulnerable—the people who feel dispossessed, marginalized, alienated, disrespected, who experience humiliation and shame. They’re looking for someone strong to get behind, to pull them out of their challenges. But Australia appears to be navigating economic crises, international security, and other key issues reasonably well while keeping people onside.

So, while we do have an increase in extremism—particularly among young people—on a par with what we’re seeing in the UK, it is not necessarily playing out as mass mobilization toward a strongman leader.

This Is Labor’s Moment in Australia

Does the resurgence of major-party dominance and marginalization of the populist right suggest a broader democratic correction, or might it risk complacency in addressing the socio-economic grievances that often underline populist support?

Dr. Josh Roose: Good question. I think in the context of our preferential voting system—first and foremost—voting is compulsory, which is a real strength of Australian democracy. You line up, you vote, and then you go get what we call a “democracy sausage,” which is a sausage on a slice of bread, and people post photos of that to show they voted. You get fined if you don’t vote, so while people can vote informally, voting is really a requirement of all citizens. To that extent, you get much better buy-in to the political debate and the campaign, because people have to show up. It’s a key part of the responsibility of citizenship here.

That said, there’s been a lot of talk about the rise of minority parties. The vote for major parties has been falling year on year. The Labor Party used to hover in the mid-40s, then dropped to around 40%, and is now hovering at about 33% of the vote. The Liberal Party slipped below them. The National Party, which is more of a regional party, and the Liberal Party tend to combine—so it’s called the Liberal National Coalition—and they form government.

Labor has typically had to work with the Greens. But over the last three years, the Australian Greens have taken a more extreme bent. They’ve sought to consolidate real political power. The environment has been put on the back burner, and they’ve embraced social issues. For example, they’ve come out very strongly and worked with Muslim communities on the issue of Gaza and recognition. That might have alienated some among their base. 

But for many Australians, there is a broad resistance to extremism at either end of the political spectrum. Some of the rhetoric and aggression from certain politicians proved detrimental. As a result, the Greens failed to gain any seats at the federal level and, in fact, may have lost three. The Labor Party’s victory in this election is historically unprecedented in terms of its strength. They no longer need the Greens to govern. While there had been serious talk of a minority government requiring Green support to pass legislation, Labor now holds full control in the Lower House—though they still need Green backing in the Senate.

Despite the major parties’ overall decline in vote share, this appears to be Labor’s moment. They’ve spoken of becoming the “natural party of governance”—a mantle once claimed by the Liberal Party. Their ambition is to remain in power for 10, 15, even 20 years, much like the Menzies government of the 1960s and 1970s. That is their goal.

Dutton Tried to Tap into ‘Alt-Right Masculinity’

People are attending a political rally and marching through the city streets of Melbourne with a police escort in Victoria, Australia on March 16, 2019. Photo: Adam Calaitzis.

Your scholarship explores ‘protest masculinities’ as fertile ground for right-wing mobilization. In what ways did Peter Dutton’s campaign draw on, or fail to effectively deploy, gendered narratives of crisis and control?

Dr. Josh Roose: Very early on in the campaign, Peter Dutton referenced a dominant trope seen frequently in more extreme right masculinity spaces that I’ve studied—a narrative I haven’t seen cited elsewhere. It’s the saying: “strong men create good times, weak men create tough times,” and so on. You’ve probably heard the narrative. It’s this idea that when times are good, men become weak, and only in tough times do strong men come to the fore and shape society. He adopted some of that language—alt-right type masculinity that’s been prominent online. It was clear he was tapping into it and attempting to mobilize it.

To be fair, however, the Liberal Party also came out incredibly strongly against anti-Semitism—not in a “Trumpian” way, but in a clear and firm manner. There has been a significant rise in anti-Semitism here. They also came out strongly against neo-Nazis.

There’s a neo-Nazi movement in Australia that’s attempting to grow. They’ve been hijacking public events like Anzac Day, trying to mobilize and exploit young men on the margins. While their numbers haven’t grown exponentially—maybe from a few dozen to around 100—they are very loud, very active, and there was a resounding rejection of that type of extreme right from the mainstream right-wing political party. That helps explain why some people have been pushed further right—why those fringes have been radicalized even more.

But where is this going? I think, ultimately, when you have a government with this kind of majority, they can implement meaningful changes over time—changes that will directly target extremism, particularly the far right. We’ve already seen strong legislative actions, such as banning the Nazi salute, the swastika, and other hate symbols. We know there’s likely to be further action in that space—positive action, to that extent.

Australia’s Deeply Masculinist Politics Is Starting to Shift

How do you situate the performance of masculine-coded populism—often framed through control, toughness, and sovereignty—in a political environment increasingly shaped by demands for inclusivity and post-pandemic care politics?

Dr. Josh Roose: There’s a lot of moving parts to that question. I think what we see—even on the left side of politics here—is an embrace of masculinity as a mobilizing factor. Let me take a step back. Australia produces some of the world’s leading scholars in both masculinity and feminist studies. Think of figures like Germaine Greer, or in the field of masculinity, people like R.W. Connell, Michael Flood, and others. Our gender politics are incredibly dynamic and prominent in public life. 

While Indigenous Australians have lived here for 60,000 to 70,000 years, the modern nation-state is relatively young. In this modern context, gender politics are very much at the forefront. Because of that, we’ve seen strong resistance—not just from the right, but also from elements of the left, particularly the trade union movement—toward what is perceived as being too soft, too aligned with femininity, or too accepting of a “masculinity of care.” There’s some valuable literature on this, also written by Australian scholars.

It’s a complex issue, but I think the dichotomy is beginning to be challenged. It’s a process that will take time. Historically, Australia has had overwhelmingly masculine political leadership. For much of the 20th century, we were governed under the White Australia Policy. Multiculturalism only came into effect in the 1970s and 1980s. We’ve had only one female Prime Minister, and she came to power through what we call “knifing” the previous leader. She received a level of abuse for that which no male leader has ever experienced.

So, we do have a deeply masculinist political culture. However, the COVID-19 pandemic—working from home, the rise in care responsibilities—has begun to shift things. These changes are happening in ways we haven’t fully studied or understood yet.

But I do think, with three or four potential terms of a left-leaning government—and a Cabinet that is, for the first time in Australian history, made up of more than 50% women—we’re likely to see the political landscape change significantly over the next decade, particularly as younger generations rise. Exactly how that will unfold remains to be seen.

We’re Seeing the Beginnings of a New Class Divide in Australia

With economic precarity and housing affordability at the center of public concern, how might evolving expressions of masculine discontent shift political alignments among traditionally right-leaning working-class male voters?

Dr. Josh Roose: I think we’re seeing it—and I’ve discussed this elsewhere. People have shifted away from the Liberal Party and are increasingly critical of it. The Liberals have just elected a moderate as their leader—the first female leader and a moderate in the party’s history. That happened today (May 13, 2025), and it’s a pretty significant event.

It was also a very close vote within the party room, highlighting internal divisions. We know that men in Australia—much like in the rest of the world—are increasingly shifting to the political right. There was stronger support for far-right-style politics. While still a small minority, about 10% of the vote is not negligible and must be taken seriously.

At the same time, there’s growing tension within the major opposition party about its stance on economic precarity and working-class issues. The opposition has talked about becoming the party of the outer suburbs—areas where real economic struggle is concentrated. These are people who own homes and cars, are trying to put their kids through school, but can’t keep up with mortgage payments and are stuck in long commutes. The party assumed it would automatically capture that demographic—but it failed. It didn’t do enough to make the race competitive, let alone win government.

So, I think we’re witnessing a shift in political alignment. Smaller far-right parties are emerging. There was even talk from neo-Nazi groups about forming a political party, though they were far too late to register and, realistically, would never be allowed to register in Australia. Still, the fact that the idea was floated is notable.

We’re also seeing the emergence of a significant generational and economic cleavage in Australia—something I never thought I’d see. A new class system appears to be forming. Australia has long prided itself on being an egalitarian society, at least in principle. But increasingly, if you’re not born into a family that owns property, it’s incredibly difficult to enter the housing market at all.

So yes, I think we’re seeing the beginnings of a new class divide—one that will reshape the political landscape, including the major parties, while populist politicians on the fringes will continue to try and exploit the resulting anger and anxiety.

Anti-Muslim Racism Has Shifted—But It’s Still There

Anti-racism protesters clash with Reclaim Australia groups rallying against Muslim immigration in Melton, Victoria, Australia, in November 2015. Photo: Dave Hewison.

To what extent does Islamophobia remain a structuring logic within Australian right-wing populist discourse, and how has it evolved in the context of declining electoral returns for its chief proponents?

Dr. Josh Roose: It was a really interesting political campaign because the Muslim community became very active—I’ve written about this. They argued that neither major political party was representing their interests, particularly around the issue of Gaza.

A number of Labor Party politicians were campaigning in seats that had previously been somewhat marginal and were now being targeted on the basis of their stance on Gaza, due to high Muslim population concentrations—around 35 to 40% in some areas. There was an attempt to mobilize a Muslim vote, with three or four different groups emerging under names like “Muslim Votes Matter.” In some cases, these groups gained 15–20% of the vote. So, while they didn’t shape the overall outcome, they were influential.

Racism is embedded in Australia as a settler-colonial society with a long history of exclusion and discrimination. It persists in institutions, structures, parliaments, and businesses. However, the type of racism evolves over time. What we’re seeing now is more of an effort by the far right to put migration and immigration at the center of political debate. There’s this narrative—though factually unsupported—that Australia is being “flooded” by Indians, Chinese, or others. 

With regard to Muslims, the evolution has been particularly interesting. For the first 10–15 years post-9/11, anti-Muslim racism was at a peak—especially during the rise of Islamic State (IS), when young men were going off to fight abroad. There was a lot of tabloid coverage and moral panic. But now, we’re looking at second-, third-, even fourth-generation Australian Muslims—highly culturally literate, deeply embedded in the fabric of society, business owners, homeowners, building wealth. That integration has shifted public perception.

There’s been a noticeable political alignment between Muslim communities and the Greens, despite some ideological contradictions. So, while Islamophobia or anti-Muslim racism is still present and remains problematic—and likely always will be to some extent—I think we’ve seen a marked shift away from its peak in the last 5 to 10 years in the Australian context.

“We Need a Masculinity That Is Strong—But Also Nurturing”

And finally, drawing from your work on countering right-wing extremism, what institutional, educational, or civic interventions would you prioritize to consolidate democratic resilience and pre-empt future cycles of cultural backlash politics?

Dr. Josh Roose: To me, there are a number of layers. Social media is a massive issue here, and I know that there are various cases ongoing around that. We’ve got to hold social media companies accountable for what they’re allowing on their platforms. We need more responsive laws that prohibit, for example, unregulated anonymity—where people can say and do what they like and get away with it. Why can someone publish hate in Australia, from their home or in a public space on their phone, share it online, threaten, abuse, harass, and humiliate others, and not be held accountable? If they said the same things in a physical public space, they’d be arrested under our laws. So, there are significant issues around what people can say, do, and publish online. That’s not to say I want to get caught up in the freedom of speech debate, but where it crosses the threshold into hate and violence, it must be better regulated and enforced.

In terms of education, I think resilience is a key element of the Australian curriculum—there are entire units dedicated to teaching resilience to young people. But I think the construction of healthy masculinity is critical. A masculinity that, on the one hand, is strong, resistant to shock, capable of dealing with difficulty and challenge, embraces physicality, and even a bit of stoicism—but on the other hand, is caring, nurturing, loving, and capable of moving beyond the ego: doing housework, allowing vulnerability, and so on.

There’s a lot of really good work being done in that space, but it’s not systematic. It’s not embedded at a curriculum level. And wherever it does pop up, there’s always resistance from some parents claiming that it’s an attempt to “turn children woke.”

We’re still seeing this Americanization of our right-wing politics. The sooner that stops—when the right develops some maturity and a bit of introspection, and rejects this Americanized, extreme-right style politics, including Trumpism—the sooner they’ll reconnect with people. But honestly, the chances of that happening are low.

Marine Le Pen

From Fraud to Framing: Marine Le Pen’s Trial and ‘Alternative Truth’

by AuthoritarianismCommentariesEditor’s ChoiceExtremism & RadicalisationHome

Marine Le Pen’s conviction for embezzling EU funds might have marked a legal defeat—but politically, it became a narrative victory. In her commentary, Julie Van Elslander explores how France’s far-right leader transformed her trial into a populist spectacle of persecution, mobilizing public anger and institutional distrust. By reframing judicial accountability as elite conspiracy, Le Pen advanced a post-truth strategy that defied factual condemnation and resonated deeply with disillusioned voters. This timely analysis illuminates the broader phenomenon of populist resilience in the face of scandal, showing how legal consequences can be strategically repurposed as political capital by populist actors within Europe’s increasingly contested democratic landscape.

By Julie Van Elslander*

Introduction

On March 31, 2025, Marine Le Pen, long-time leader of France’s far-right National Rally, was convicted by the criminal court of Paris for the misappropriation of an estimated €4.6 million in European Parliament funds (Ledroit, 2025). Sentenced to a heavy condemnation, Marine Le Pen suffered a significant legal and political blow. Yet, instead of weakening her influence or undermining her party’s credibility, the trial became a platform for Le Pen to reaffirm her political narrative. Despite legal conviction and moral discredit, the National Rally maintained political relevance by reframing the sentence as an element of political persecution – raising a question: How does a legal defeat become a populist narrative victory?

At the core, this narrative dynamic is emblematic of what scholars qualify of post-truth populism: The transformation of political culture by the devaluation of factual correctness over emotional appeal (Conrad & Hálfdanarson, 2023). In a context where public discourse is increasingly shaped by the logic of “alternative facts” – a concept introduced by Trump’s counselor in 2017 (Gajanan, 2017) – Le Pen’s trial is another example of the way post-truth populists challenge liberal democracies. 

Rather than interrogating the legal dimensions of guilt or innocence, this analysis focuses on the populist discursive strategies through which Marine Le Pen’s trial was reframed in the public sphere, and how those shaped citizens’ political thinking (Aslanidis, 2016). The trial serves not simply as a juridical event, but also as a communicative site where competing narratives about power, legitimacy and truth are constructed. 

The Case of Le Pen’s Trial – Facts and Only Facts

Among twenty-four others, nine ex-MEPs and twelve parliamentary assistants from the National Rally were trialed for “embezzlement of public funds” and “complicity in the embezzlement of public funds” from 2004 to 2016 (Maad, 2025). In this case, the court recognized that the European Parliament’s public funds were misappropriated in order to remunerate employees working for the party management under fictitious contracts, rather than related to the European parliamentary activity – as it is normally required for those collaborators (ibid.). 

Marine Le Pen was sentenced to a €100.000 fine, two years under house arrest while wearing an electronic ankle bracelet, additional two-year suspended sentence, and five years’ ineligibility for public office with immediate effect. Le Pen’s heavy condemnation was due to what the court’s president as qualified as her “central role” in this case: “at the heart of this system since 2009, Marine Le Pen has signed up with authority and determination in the operation established by her father, in which was participating since 2004” (Dao, 2025).

Le Pen will appeal the verdict, but she will remain ineligible and could be ruled out of the 2027 presidential elections. She won’t serve the house arrest until every appeal is exhausted but the ban on running for office will be implemented immediately despite her legal challenge.

The irony of the case is striking: Marine Le Pen, who used to call for life ineligibility for elected officials convicted of embezzlement or corruption (Brault, 2025), now contests the legitimacy of her own sentence – but how does such a reversal become not a source of discredit, but a tool for reaffirming political legitimacy?

Not Guilty, Just Targeted? Le Pen’s Populist Response to Conviction

Despite her conviction, Marine Le Pen managed to maintain her political standing by discursively reframing the charges into a populist narrative of persecution and resistance. Ever since the trial’s deliberation, Le Pen has not stopped claiming her innocence, repeatedly insisting the judges were “mistaken” and reducing the issue to a simple “administrative disagreement with the European Parliament” that involved “no personal enrichment” (Marchal, 2025). Yet, the tribunal clearly stated that although the actions did not generate direct personal enrichment, they constituted serious breach of integrity and democratic principles, involving deception of both the European Parliament and voters (Sicard, 2025). By providing financial benefits to the National Rally, the stolen funds allowed it to maintain political influence and electoral advantages for over a decade (ibid.). 

The judges justified the use of the ineligibility sentence and its exécution provisoire (which allows the sentence to be enforced even before an appeal), emphasizing that the defendants had expressed no recognition of their violation of the law, and the court had a duty to ensure that “elected officials, like any other subject, do not benefit from a preferential regime incompatible with the trust sought by citizens in political life” (France info, 2025). In 2023 alone, around 16.000 ineligibility sentences were issued in France, 639 of which included the exécution provisoire (France info, 2025a). While such measure is applied selectively – and in about 4% of the cases – it is far from exceptional (ibid.). Indeed, several other high-profile political figures in France, such as Nicolas Sarkozy or François Fillon, have been sentenced to ineligibility in recent years (Louis, 2025).

However, in the populist narrative, these precedents are rarely acknowledged. By using terms such as a “tyranny of the judges” (Cossard, 2025), the National Rally reinforced the idea that Le Pen is being unfairly targeted. The rhetoric implies an extraordinary sanction used to silence political opposition:  the trial isn’t presented as a neutral legal process, but as the proof of a biased system – with Le Pen denouncing a “political decision,” a practice “we believed to be reserved for authoritarian regimes” (Vignal, 2025). The judiciary becomes just another part of the “elite” that is supposedly trying to stop her from acceding to the Elysée: “the system has released the nuclear bomb. If it uses such a powerful weapon against us, it is obviously because we are about to win the elections” (A.B., 2025). Here, Le Pen’s reframing does not deny the factual events themselves; rather, she strategically reinterprets them because openly acknowledging illegality could undermine her political legitimacy and moral authority.

This discursive approach fits neatly into what researchers call post-truth populism: The idea isn’t just to reject facts but to question who gets to decide what’s true in the first place (Ylä-Anttila, 2018). Populist leaders like Le Pen challenge the credibility and intentions of traditional fact-producers – such as judges, journalists or experts – to position themselves as more trustworthy (Mahmutović & Lovec, 2024). By stating that their version of facts are biased, corrupt or politically motivated, populist leaders construct alternative narratives, in which facts are selectively reinterpreted in ways that support their political agenda. The aim is not necessarily to prove their narrative is objectively true, but rather to undermine opposing ones as suspicious and irrelevant. 

This type of rhetoric fits within a common populist logic, where courts and other oversight bodies are seen as tools of an unaccountable elite trying to undermine the will of the “real people” – a homogeneous group not defined by citizenship, but by symbolic alignment with the populist cause (Arato, 2017). By framing her conviction as political persecution, Le Pen not only shields herself from public blame, but also primes her supporters to view the case as of a “stolen election”.

Why Marine Le Pen Wasn’t ‘Cancelled’: Political Loyalty in a ‘Stolen’ Election

Marine Le Pen may have been convicted in court, but in the arena of public opinion, she proved to be remarkably cancel-proof. This resilience is rooted in the post-truth populist strategy that places narrative above norms, and emotional appeal above factual truth. It particularly stemmed among her supporters, for whom the verdict was seen as a symbol of political persecution, and an attempt to steal the 2027 election – a narrative that quickly found concrete expression in public reactions. On March 31, 2025, a few hours after Le Pen’s conviction, a French national news broadcast captured street interviews where multiple citizens reacted with shock and outrage, describing the verdict as “personal” and a way to “take her out” of the presidential race (TF1info, 2025). 

An online petition launched by National Rally, titled “Save democracy, save Marine” (Rassemblement National, 2025) rapidly gathered thousands of signatures and rallied support over social media, but its message was not just about supporting Le Pen – it was about defending her voters’ rights. In an open letter promoting the petition, Jordan Bardella, the young president of the National Rally, described the conviction as an attack against voters: “They are trying to prevent a candidacy supported by millions of French people, which is well ahead in all the polls. They deprive millions of voters of their choice and therefore their freedom” (Krupa, 2025). This sense of disenfranchisement was further amplified at a public rally held a week later, during which Bardella addressed the crowd and further defended Le Pen as a candidate of the people, framing her conviction as an attempt to prevent the National Rally from acceding to power (ibid.). The conviction, as he claimed, was not just about her but about the right of French voters to choose their leader. The rally became a platform where Le Pen was portrayed not only as a victim but as a representative of silenced voters.  

This narrative fits the typical populist discourse, which emerges from a perceived failure of representation (Rosanvallon, 2020) and frames political reality as a fundamental conflict between a corrupted elite and the common people, “whose mobilization is presented as the only solution” (Aslanidis, 2016) to regain sovereignty. Here, the mobilization efforts are largely symbolic: Neither a petition nor public rally could change the judicial outcome, as courts are not influenced by popularity. However, their aim is to reinforce the idea that the verdict is unjust, judicial independence compromised and that the electors are the true victims of this case. Those efforts function as political and social tools – not legal ones – allowing Le Pen’s supporters to transform outrage into collective action, and to signal strength and solidarity. 

This is a key aspect of post-truth populism: The National Rally’s version of events is framed as more authentic because it taps into a deeper, widespread sense of institutional distrust (Harsin, 2024). When ordinary citizens feel that traditional institutions no longer represent them fairly, populist leaders like Le Pen often claim to embody the will of the people directly, calling for diverse forms of direct democracy (ibid.). Within this logic, portraying Le Pen’s sentence as exceptional and biased doesn’t require evidence – it simply needs to fit the broader story that her supporters believe: That she, like them, is being unfairly treated by a system that no longer serves them. 

Yet, while this narrative mobilized Le Pen’s supporters within France, the impact of her conviction also reverberated beyond national borders, sparking polarized reactions at the European level.

A European Issue with Global Repercussions

With the National Rally’s discourse focusing on national stakes, the European legal affair was reframed as a national political issue. That is, in part, due to the nature of the European Union’s legal proceedings. Even though the European Parliament’s public funds are distributed through the institutions, MEPs are elected nationally and therefore reside within national jurisdiction. The investigation was first opened by the OLAF – the European Anti-Fraud Office, an independent entity – in 2014 (Bouquet, 2025), but criminal prosecution and sentencing remained the responsibility of national courts. Although the matter originated at the European level, with the European Parliament lifting Le Pen’s immunity following a referral to French authorities, the fact that the trial was handled nationally contributed to the widespread perception that it was a purely domestic affair.  This procedural pathway ultimately placed the case within a broader discursive shift, reframing the trial as a French political controversy – judges, media and legal discourse – all nationally situated. 

Moreover, the French discourse largely undermined the collective European harm caused by the embezzlement. While the European Parliament – the civil plaintiff in the case – announced it “took note” of the decision and declined to comment further, Le Pen’s conviction quickly gathered support among fellow populist leaders, particularly from far-right figure such as Viktor Orbán, Matteo Salvini, and Donald Trump. Orbán expressed direct solidarity by stating “Je suis Marine!” – a phrase typically used to express support and mourning for victims – while Salvini denounced the verdict as a “declaration of war by Brussels” (Les Echos, 2025). Trump compared Le Pen’s legal troubles to his own, labeling it a “witch hunt” and accusing European elites of using the judiciary to silence political opposition (Le Monde, 2025). 

These international endorsements were not merely supportive gesture; they became central elements of the populist narrative surrounding Le Pen’s case. While the trial was framed in France as a part of a broader struggle between national sovereignty and a hostile elite, this international support further cast her as a symbol of resistance against a corrupt system – reinforcing the idea of a national and European political conspiracy targeting her. 

The same divisive framing extended into the European Parliament itself. During the plenary session held shortly after the verdict, several Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) from the Patriots for Europe group – Le Pen’s European political family – expressed their support for Le Pen, condemning the conviction as undemocratic and broadly questioning the state of the rule of law in Europe. Hungarian MEP András László notably accused the “Brussels elite” of trying to “legally sabotage a far-right politician” because of her patriotism and opposition to a “globalist elite” (European Parliament, 2025) – aligning with the narrative of persecution. In contrast, MEPs from other political groups welcomed the conviction as a critical step in combating corruption within the institution. German MEP Daniel Freund notably qualified the Le Pen’s actions as “the biggest fraud case in the history of the European Parliament” (ibid.).

This polarized reaction within the European Parliament highlighted the trial’s dual nature: Legally, it was a case of embezzlement involving European funds, but politically, it became a battleground over competing narratives. For Le Pen’s allies, it symbolized a struggle against an oppressive European elite; for her critics, it was a long-overdue act of accountability. 

Indeed, Le Pen’s case comes within the broader context of corruption scandals that have been shaking the European Parliament itself. The Qatargate scandal in 2022, involving allegations of bribes paid by Qatar to influence European lawmakers, and the Huawei case in 2023, where Chinese lobbying was accused of seeking favorable policies through financial incentives, exposed the vulnerability of European institutions to corruption. These scandals not only undermined the Parliament’s authority as a democratic institution of EU decision-making but also deepened the citizens’ distrust in EU governance – a distrust that populists are quick to weaponize. 

Conclusion

The Le Pen case is more than a legal scandal – it is a test of the resilience of European institutions against populist narratives that thrive on distrust. It is not merely about one politician reframing her conviction as persecution; it is a case study in how a legal process can be transformed into a battleground of competing truths. At its core, this case reveals a deeper conflict between factual accountability and symbolic politics.

Ultimately, the stakes go beyond Le Pen herself. The crisis of trust she has exploited is part of a broader European problem. As Qatargate and the Huawei scandal have shown, European institutions are not immune to corruption, and this vulnerability has fueled perceptions of institutional hypocrisy. It is this perceived hypocrisy that populist leaders weaponize, transforming legitimate accountability efforts into narratives of persecution. Ultimately, the Le Pen case is a message of political legitimacy: In an era of post-truth populism, the verdict in court may matter less than the verdict in public opinion.

 

(*) Julie Van Elslander is a double master’s student in European Governance (Sciences Po Grenoble) and Politics and Public Administration (Universität Konstanz), with a strong interest in how democracies respond to challenges like populism, post-truth politics, and institutional distrust. She has contributed to European-level research projects on political communication, corruption, and democratic accountability, and currently works as a research intern at the Center of International Relations (University of Ljubljana).

 

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Dr. Claudiu Tufiş

Dr. Tufiş: Simion’s First-Round Success Driven by Voter Disillusionment and Outrage Over Annulled Election in Romania

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In an in-depth interview with the ECPS, Dr. Claudiu Tufiş, explains how far-right candidate George Simion’s success in the first round of Romania’s presidential elections on Sunday was driven by widespread voter anger and disappointment following the annulment of the original vote. “Voters were deeply disappointed by the cancellation of the elections,” he notes, “and many reacted with anger, leading to a noticeable erosion of trust in the electoral process.” With no credible democratic opposition and growing anti-establishment sentiment, Simion was able to capitalize on public frustration. Dr. Tufiş’s analysis sheds critical light on the structural and emotional undercurrents reshaping Romanian politics.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In the wake of Romania’s highly polarized first round of presidential elections on Sunday, Dr. Claudiu Tufiş, Associate Professor of Political Science at the Faculty of Political Science at the University of Bucharest, provides a deeply analytical account of the socio-political dynamics that have propelled far-right candidate George Simion to the forefront of the political stage. Speaking with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Tufiş underscores a central factor behind Simion’s electoral surge: widespread public anger and disillusionment following the annulment of the 2024 presidential vote.

“When it comes to Simion’s results, they might seem like a surprise, but they really shouldn’t,” Dr. Tufiş observes. “If you look at the share of votes received by sovereigntists or extremists—however one chooses to label them—in the annulled first round of the November presidential elections, Simion and Georgescu together garnered over 30%.” In his view, the subsequent backlash—intensified by the disqualification of Călin Georgescu—created a perfect storm of grievance-driven mobilization: “Romanian voters were deeply disappointed by the cancellation of the elections, and many reacted with anger, leading to a noticeable erosion of trust in the electoral process.”

Simion’s first-round performance, securing 41% of the vote, represents more than a statistical anomaly. As Dr. Tufiş explains, “Basically, they had almost six months—from November until now—to coalesce more and more around the idea that somebody should pay for that decision to cancel the elections, and Simion was at the center of this movement.” The professor emphasizes that Simion’s rise is not merely an ideological success, but rather the product of a profound anti-establishment sentiment amid institutional instability.

Throughout the conversation, Dr. Tufiş unpacks the deeper structural factors shaping this moment: the erosion of confidence in Romania’s mainstream parties, the political mishandling of crises like the COVID-19 pandemic and the Ukraine war, and the failure of democratic opposition forces to present a credible alternative. The result, he warns, is “not really a surprise”—but rather the culmination of years of frustration, disillusionment, and unaddressed socio-economic inequality.

This interview offers a timely and urgent insight into how electoral grievance, institutional decay, and populist strategy have converged to reshape Romanian politics. As Romania prepares for the second round of voting on May 18, Dr. Tufiş’s reflections provide a sobering lens on what is at stake—for democracy, for the region, and for Europe at large.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Claudiu Tufiş.

Simion Became the Focal Point for Voters Who Felt Betrayed by the Election Annulment

George Simion
George Simion, leader of the Alliance for the Union of Romanians (AUR) and a candidate in Romania’s 2025 presidential election, speaks at a press conference at the Grand Hotel Bucharest after submitting his candidacy to the Central Electoral Bureau, March 14, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Tufiş, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: What is your assessment of the first round of presidential elections in Romania, as the candidate of the far right, George Simion, got almost 40% of the vote? What is your prediction about the second round of the elections that will be held on May 18?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: Yes, George Simion won probably more than most people were expecting. In the first round, he managed to gather the support of 41% of voters, and in second place, we have a candidate from what’s considered to be a pro-European position—an independent, Nicușor Dan, who is the mayor of Bucharest.

When it comes to Simion’s results, they might seem like a surprise, but they really shouldn’t. If you look at the percentage of votes that the sovereigntists, the extremists—however you want to call them—received during the November first round of the presidential elections, the ones that were cancelled, Simion and Georgescu together got more than 30% of the vote. So it’s not unexpected. Voters in Romania were really disappointed with the decision to cancel the elections, and they got really angry. They lost trust in the electoral process to some extent. And basically, they had almost six months—from November until now—to coalesce more and more around the idea that somebody should pay for that decision to cancel the elections, and Simion was at the center of this movement. He was the one who captured the votes of all the disappointed voters in Romania. So from that perspective, an increase from 30-something percent to 41% over five months with people really disappointed about the decision—it’s not really a surprise.

As for what will happen two weeks from now, that is a little bit more difficult to predict. Of course, Simion has the first chance. He only needs 9–10% more than what he already gathered in the first round, and that is relatively easy to collect. The problem is that both candidates in the second round—Simion and Nicușor Dan—have already started negotiating with all political parties. Just last evening (Monday), the governing coalition broke up. The Prime Minister decided to resign. The leadership of the Social Democratic Party is also resigning. So everything is in flux right now. The Liberals decided on Monday that they will support Nicușor Dan in the second round of elections. The Social Democrats said they are not going to support either of the two candidates—they’re leaving it up to voters to decide.

But these are just public statements made by political parties. Behind closed doors, from what I hear, there are very heated debates and negotiations as parties try to figure out what the next majority will look like after the elections. So right now, we are in a period of flux, and even if I were a betting man, I couldn’t say for sure which of the two candidates is going to win. The only thing I know for certain is that George Simion currently has the advantage. It’s a lot easier for him to get to 51% compared to Nicușor Dan.

Voters Turned to AUR After a Decade of Disillusionment and Crisis Mismanagement

Romanian citizens demand an end to a corrupt system. Photo: Constantin Opriș.

As you noted in your studies, Romania was once a partial exception to the populist wave. What underlying shifts—political, social, or institutional—do you believe have led to the resurgence and normalization of far-right populism?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: I think there are several elements here. But probably the most important one we should focus on is the fact that, for quite some time, we’ve had only the Social Democrats or the Liberals in power in Romania. These two political parties, ever since 2012, have governed either together or alone. To some, that might seem like a lack of alternation in power, a lack of refreshment in the political scene, and the result has been increasing public disappointment with these two main political forces.

Usually, when people are unhappy with the incumbents, they turn to the opposition. The problem with the 2024 elections in Romania was that we didn’t really have a strong democratic opposition party. If you set aside the governing parties—the Liberals and the Social Democrats—the remaining parties in Parliament were the Alliance for the Union of Romanians (AUR), led by George Simion, the party representing the Hungarian minority, and the Save Romania Union (USR), which was originally led by Nicuşor Dan. But Nicuşor Dan had to leave the party because he could no longer identify with its direction.

Theoretically, the democratic opposition should have been the USR. But the party disappointed its voters. Instead of growing after its 2016 breakthrough, when it got about 10%, it became consumed with internal power struggles. That led to a lot of voter disappointment. As a result, by 2024, many discontented voters were left with only one viable option—AUR—as the repository of their frustration.

There’s also a second element: the Social Democrat–Liberal coalition governed through two major crises. Both were global or regional in scope but had a serious impact on Romania. I’m talking about the COVID-19 pandemic and the war in Ukraine.

The pandemic, of course, brought lockdowns—not as strict as Italy’s, but not as lenient as Sweden’s either. What caused significant discontent was the push for vaccination. While vaccination wasn’t mandatory, it was heavily promoted by the government. Romania has a significant portion of the population that is skeptical about vaccines. In fact, Romania now has the highest number of children suffering from preventable childhood diseases due to low vaccination rates.

George Simion’s party saw this as an opportunity. They were the only political party that capitalized on that sentiment and used it to gather support. That was the first crisis. The second, of course, is Russia’s war on Ukraine, right on our border, with the influx of Ukrainian refugees and all the accompanying pressures.

So, we’ve seen the two main governing parties being eroded simply by being in power for a long time, a process worsened by the two crises. Meanwhile, there was no strong democratic alternative. In the end, people chose what was available: AUR and newcomers like Călin Georgescu—parties that sought to capitalize on AUR’s image and appeal to voters with similar messages.

How Culture Wars Replaced Old Divides in Romanian Far-Right Discourse

People in traditional national costume return from Sunday church service—a cultural landmark in Maramureș, Romania. Photo: Theodor Bunica.

How do you interpret the redefinition of exclusionary discourse in Romanian far-right politics—from ethnic targeting to cultural and religious narratives? What explains this evolution in ideological framing?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: Romania had significant problems early in its transition with ethnic minorities—mainly with the Hungarian and Roma communities. Over time, however, we’ve managed to address those tensions to some extent. Today, there is relative peace between Romanian and Hungarian segments of the population. Occasionally, political parties try to reignite this conflict, but it generally doesn’t resonate—people no longer see it as a valid issue.

As for the Roma population, there are still negative perceptions among the broader Romanian public. But many Roma have migrated to other EU countries, so there’s less pressure now to activate that conflict politically.

The shift from ethnic or religious exclusion to identity- or culture-based narratives is, I think, partly due to a kind of mimicry of Western—mainly American—society. Issues like “woke culture” or “cancel culture” have been heavily criticized in other parts of the world, and these narratives have found fertile ground in Romania.

Romania remains a deeply traditional society, where there are widely accepted beliefs about fixed gender roles and a general resistance to discussions of gender equality or LGBTQ+ rights. This creates an environment where traditional misogyny and intolerance toward difference can be easily mobilized by political actors to boost support.

That’s why, for example, Romania attempted a referendum to redefine the family in the Constitution. It failed due to low turnout, but it reflected a broader regional trend in Eastern Europe—over the past decade—of pushing back against what are perceived as “new ideologies.”

And of course, there is a second element here: these ideologies and values are perceived as being imposed by the European Union and viewed as incompatible with Romanian traditions— with who Romanians are. As a result, these cultural conflicts have also fueled a broader pushback against the EU.

Simion Rides the Wave of Anti-Establishment Sentiment, Not Ideology

What do you see as the main drivers behind George Simion’s current popularity, particularly among younger voters and segments of the diaspora? To what extent is his appeal rooted in ideology versus anti-establishment sentiment?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: I would say that almost all of his appeal comes from anti-establishment sentiment and has little to do with ideology. George Simion has, at times, taken strong anti-European Union positions, but over time he realized that this message doesn’t resonate well with the Romanian public, so he has moderated his stance over the last two or three years. If you talk to regular voters in Romania, most of them will tell you what I mentioned earlier—they are sick and tired of seeing the same people governing the country for more than a decade.

This is evident in the candidates selected by the mainstream political parties for the presidency in both the annulled November elections and now—they are the same figures who’ve been at the center of power for the past 10 to 15 years, and people are simply unhappy with their performance. This time around, they want a change that is completely separate from the mainstream parties. That’s why voters seeking real change have turned to George Simion and his party.

Even Nicușor Dan, though he’s the Mayor of Bucharest and running as an independent, benefits from this desire for change. He was the founder of the Save Romania Union (USR), but he’s no longer a member, and USR is now a minor party. So Dan, too, is seen as detached from the traditional parties, though he appeals to a different voter base.

On Tuesday, some exit polls showed that Simion’s voters are generally less educated—he has a significant lead among those with only a high school diploma. By contrast, Nicușor Dan is mostly supported by voters with higher education—college degrees and above. So there’s a strong correlation between education level and candidate preference. And since education is often associated with income and wealth, the division essentially reflects a broader socioeconomic cleavage.

It’s a conflict between those who have benefited from Romania’s economic development over the past 10 to 20 years and those who have not. Romania has done well in terms of macroeconomic indicators, but the resulting wealth has not been evenly distributed. That inequality is being felt more acutely now.

So, in the second round of the presidential elections two weeks from now, we’ll see two candidates—both representing a break from the mainstream parties. George Simion represents change for those who feel left behind, while Nicușor Dan represents change for the educated, urban middle class that has benefited most from Romania’s recent growth.

Voters Wanted to Punish Those Who Canceled the Elections

Romanians cast their votes in the presidential election in Bucharest, Romania, on Sunday, December 6, 2009. Photo: Viorel Dudau.

The annulment of the 2024 presidential election and the disqualification of Călin Georgescu triggered strong domestic and international reactions, feeding into populist narratives of elite conspiracy and Western interference. How has this grievance-driven discourse shaped AUR’s electoral mobilization, and to what extent has public backlash against the court’s decision contributed to George Simion’s rise in popularity?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: It’s pretty much the same distribution of support for the two candidates as the one I’ve just mentioned. Both supporters of George Simion and of Nicușor Dan were unhappy with the decision to cancel the elections. Again, we’re looking at two groups in society: on one hand, the less educated and economically disadvantaged, who were angry because the annulment took away their candidate; and on the other hand, the more educated and financially secure, who were upset not necessarily because Călin Georgescu was barred, but because the annulment ran against democratic principles. So while the reasons differ, both groups share discontent with the court’s decision and want to punish those responsible.

This sentiment has played a significant role in mobilizing voters, particularly against the Social Democrats and the Liberals, who are widely seen as the ones responsible for canceling the elections and undermining the integrity of the electoral process. And it’s not just the annulment in December—these parties began interfering with the electoral system as early as June, when they decided to hold the local and European Parliament elections simultaneously. As a result, public debate focused solely on local issues, with little to no discussion about Romania’s role in the EU or what Romanian MEPs could accomplish in Brussels.

Later came the decision to ban Diana Șoșoacă from running in the election, which many also interpreted as a move by the governing parties to rig the process in their favor and secure an easy path to the second round. When voters perceive those in power as manipulating electoral rules to their own advantage, they’re going to respond by punishing them at the ballot box.

For Those Who Study Politics, the Election Results Weren’t a Surprise

The surge in support for far-right candidates like Georgescu and Simion—especially in light of their previous low polling—has been described as ‘shocking’. Do you agree with this characterization, or were there early indicators that mainstream analysis missed?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: I wouldn’t necessarily say it was shocking. I mean, it was probably shocking for people who don’t pay close attention to the political system and political actors. But for those of us who study politics, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Călin Georgescu may have appeared as a surprise to most voters, but if you look at his background, you’ll see that since the mid-1990s he was close to the center of political power. He worked at important ministries, and throughout the 2000s he was often discussed as a potential prime minister. Not more than four or five years ago—in 2020, during the last round of parliamentary elections—AUR actually proposed Călin Georgescu as prime minister during their consultations with the president.

Georgescu managed to construct the image of a new political actor largely because he held many of his positions abroad and wasn’t very visible in domestic politics. But in reality, he was not new to the political scene. The same goes for Simion. He’s not new either—he’s been active in Romanian politics and civil society since around 2010. So both are seasoned political actors who have spent years building their public presence—through activism, civic engagement, and later, political organization.

They built their support bases by channeling the discontent of voters fed up with the political establishment. In Romania, from 2012 to 2015, there was a notable shift in public political attitudes, marked by a significant wave of protests following various poor decisions and crises. That moment gave rise to movements like the Union Save Romania Party (USR) in 2015—emerging from the technocratic government—and eventually AUR as well. These two parties essentially originate from civil society and were created as vehicles to push people’s demands into the political sphere. Because as civic organizations, there’s a limit to what can be achieved. What we’re seeing now is the culmination of about a decade of organizing, during which these movements developed into serious political forces.

Far-right Romanian presidential runoff candidate Călin Georgescu speaks to the press at a closed polling station in Mogoșoaia, Romania, on December 8, 2024, after the elections were officially annulled. Photo: Dreamstime.

Romania Is Backsliding—Not Drastically, but Persistently

In the light of recent political events—including the annulled 2024 vote and US criticism of Romania’s handling of Georgescu’s candidacy—do you believe Romanian democracy is entering a phase of greater polarization or institutional erosion?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: This is really just the latest example of Romania backsliding a bit. There are two elements I would discuss here.

The first is polarization within the population. This has been present in Romanian society for quite some time. Since the beginning of the post-communist regime, we’ve had significant cleavages dividing the population. Initially, it was the communist versus anti-communist cleavage, which later transformed into a divide between supporters and opponents of the Social Democrats. In recent years, this has evolved further, but at its core, it reflects a broader tendency in Romania to avoid negotiation and compromise.

This is largely a product of the past 10 to 15 years, during which politics in Romania has been treated as a zero-sum game. Politicians refused to engage in dialogue, and people followed their lead. If political leaders are constantly in conflict and unwilling to talk, we can’t expect their supporters to behave any differently. So polarization has been very high for quite some time now—and it’s a serious issue. As a society, we need to be able to sit at the same table and ask: What do we want for the next five or ten years? How do we envision Romania’s future?

The second element is institutional. Romania has been slow to implement democracy. It progressed up to a certain point, and then politicians began tampering with democratic processes. They pitted branches of government against one another. Under Băsescu’s presidency, for instance, the parliament was regularly attacked and de-legitimized. At times, the judiciary was also pressured, with politicians attempting to assert control. Over the last decade, Romania has started to decline—not dramatically like Poland under PiS or Hungary under Viktor Orbán, but after a long period of stagnation, we’ve seen a gradual backslide in specific areas of democracy.

This democratic erosion has also been aided by low levels of civic engagement. Romanians don’t have a strong history of participation in politics or civil society. Compared to neighboring countries, we show lower levels of civic activism, and this has played a role. If politicians don’t feel public pressure—if no one is calling them out for failing to meet their responsibilities—they quickly realize they can act without consequences. It’s only when something particularly egregious or morally offensive happens that the public reacts and protests.

You may recall several major protests in Bucharest and other large cities, but when it comes to the day-to-day work of building institutions or holding parties accountable, that kind of sustained civic involvement is less common. Unfortunately, we’re still learning.

AUR’s Strategy Blends Traditionalism with Tactical Euroscepticism

AUR’s ideological framing includes Orthodox values, anti-globalism, and an ambiguous stance toward NATO. How does this fit into the broader regional trend of radical-right parties navigating between nationalism and global alignments like MAGA or Kremlin narratives?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: George Simion has been accused multiple times of being controlled by the Russians, though I’m not sure that accusation is substantiated—I haven’t seen any significant evidence linking him directly to Russia.

As for the other elements, AUR—the Alliance for the Union of Romanians—bases its ideological framing on several key pillars, which they present as central to Romanian identity. These are: the Orthodox Christian religion; the traditional family; Romanian cultural traditions; and the Romanian nation itself. These four values form the ideological foundation of the party.

Naturally, all four of these pillars align with a traditionalist worldview. AUR uses them to construct narratives that oppose what they see as external threats—particularly from the European Union. The EU isn’t framed explicitly as an enemy, but rather as a force that undermines these core values. For instance, AUR argues that the EU lacks true religious conviction and therefore poses a threat to the church. On the issue of family, they interpret any discussion around gender ideology or LGBTQ rights as a direct attack. Their vision of the family is strictly heterosexual and reproductive—only a man and a woman with children qualify as a legitimate family.

Tradition is the third pillar, and again, anything coming from the EU is painted as being out of step with or even hostile to Romanian cultural traditions. In this way, AUR initially positioned itself in stark opposition to the EU. However, they gradually realized that most Romanians still support EU membership. Many citizens view it as a net positive, citing benefits such as economic development, the ability to travel and work abroad, and enjoying the same rights as people in Germany, France, and Italy. Eventually, AUR understood this and began to tone down its anti-EU rhetoric. However, they continue to promote messages centered on identity and values, which they still use to their political advantage.

Simion Lacks the Team to Secure Romania’s Strategic Commitments

Given Romania’s strategic role in NATO, its support for Ukraine, and its position within the EU, what might a George Simion presidency mean for the country’s foreign policy orientation and regional stability? Could his leadership signal a shift away from Romania’s pro-Western trajectory, potentially making it a more disruptive force within transatlantic alliances? 

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: It’s certainly the worst outcome—having Simion as president—if we are thinking about Romania’s role externally. Looking at the geostrategic position of Romania, it’s part of the eastern border of NATO, part of the eastern border of the European Union. We already have Ukraine being destabilized, and Slovakia and Serbia—close neighbors or just the next country over—presenting challenges.

There is a growing sense that countries in the region are not advancing as they should, and if Simion were to become president, I fear Romania will start moving in that direction as well. This is probably the most worrying consequence of Simion winning the presidency: that he would destabilize Romania.

Part of the potential destabilization comes from the fact that, although Simion is very popular—as we’ve seen in the vote count—he doesn’t have a strong team around him. Everything we know about George Simion comes from himself or maybe one or two others. We don’t know who his advisers are on foreign affairs, economics, or military issues. There doesn’t seem to be a substantial, competent team behind him who could assume office and fulfill Romania’s responsibilities as a NATO member. From that perspective, it is worrying, and I would say the eastern flank of NATO would be destabilized.

There are, of course, a number of possible solutions to this. Romania should probably seek a stronger alliance with Turkey. Unfortunately, at this moment, we don’t have particularly strong relations—just standard diplomatic ties. Given Turkey’s regional power, I would say this is one area where Romania should look for support in building alliances. Poland is another strong regional actor that Romania should align with more closely.

Nicușor Dan, the General Mayor of Bucharest, announced his intention to run as an independent candidate in Romania’s presidential elections in Bucharest, Romania on December 16, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.

But again, these are probably not the kinds of decisions George Simion would make as president. We’ll see how it goes. Regardless of whether Simion or Nicușor Dan becomes president, there is an upcoming summit in just over a month. That will be the first significant international meeting for the new president, and it will likely reveal more about the foreign policy direction Romania will take.

Trump Isn’t Backing Anyone—We’re on Our Own

Professor Tufiș, finally, how much do you think US President Trump’s policies have affected elections in Romania?

Dr. Claudiu Tufiş: I lived for six years in the United States—I consider it a second home. However, the current administration is difficult for me to understand. I don’t fully grasp why Trump is making some of the decisions he’s made. So I don’t see, or understand, what his current vision for Romania is. Let’s put it that way.

Of course, there have been some signals from the US administration. There have been high-profile visits to Romania, and some of these figures have met with George Simion. It seems like George Simion might be supported by the American administration.

But I’m not sure if that’s actually the case. Given Trump’s outspokenness, if he truly supported George Simion, he would have absolutely no trouble saying it publicly—and so far, he hasn’t. What the American administration has done is criticize the Romanian Constitutional Court’s decision to annul the elections. But again, we’ve just seen a couple of days ago that they also criticized Germany’s decision to label AfD as an extremist organization.

This administration plays very loosely with words, and they don’t follow the traditional diplomatic customs of avoiding interference in other countries’ domestic politics. So I think it’s more about the Trump administration promoting a different kind of democracy than about offering support for a specific candidate in Romania.

They do have troops and military bases in Romania, and there has been significant cooperation—especially military cooperation—both within NATO and bilaterally. But I don’t think Trump currently supports any particular Romanian candidate. So I don’t expect any such endorsement in the next two weeks. We’re on our own. We have to decide for ourselves who we’re going to vote for.

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi—Associate Professor at Department of History, California State University, San Marcos.

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Authoritarianism Is the New Normal and the Prevailing Norm

by AuthoritarianismDigital-populismEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

In this timely and thought-provoking interview, Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi explores how authoritarianism has become “the new normal” in the Middle East amid a global retreat from democratic norms. Speaking to the ECPS, Dr. Al-Marashi analyzes the region’s complex landscape shaped by imperial legacies, resource politics, and shifting global alliances. He highlights how populist rhetoric, digital platforms, and transactional diplomacy—especially under Trump-era politics—are empowering authoritarian leaders and weakening democratic institutions. While civil society faces mounting repression, Dr. Al-Marashi suggests that digital activism and “artivism” may offer spaces of survival and resistance. This interview provides essential insight into how populism and authoritarianism intersect in the Middle East—and what that means for the future of governance in the region.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In an era marked by the erosion of liberal democratic norms and the global resurgence of authoritarian tendencies, Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi—Associate Professor at Department of History, California State University, San Marcos—offers a timely and incisive analysis of the Middle East’s evolving political landscape. In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Al-Marashi argues that “authoritarianism has become normalized—it’s now the prevailing norm,” particularly in a world increasingly shaped by populist and transactional leadership.

Drawing from historical legacies and contemporary global shifts, Dr. Al-Marashi underscores how imperial interference and resource wealth have long laid the groundwork for authoritarian populism in the region. “Hydrocarbons enable political elites to generate revenue without relying on taxation,” he explains, allowing regimes to distribute wealth in ways that bypass democratic accountability and reinforce autocratic control. He connects this dynamic to broader regional patterns, noting that even militant groups such as ISIS have employed populist strategies by attempting to dismantle colonial-era borders and mobilize transnational support.

Dr. Al-Marashi highlights the impact of shifting global power dynamics, particularly the rise of multipolarity and the influence of Trumpism, in undermining democratic aspirations. With the US retreating from its rhetorical commitment to democracy, populist-authoritarian leaders find renewed legitimacy. “If the US is adopting these behaviors,” he argues, “this is the new norm—this is the future.” This sets a precedent for regimes that increasingly embrace personalistic and sultanistic rule, with little concern for liberal democratic values.

Transactional diplomacy, particularly under Trump, has also reshaped regional alliances. Dr. Al-Marashi notes that such diplomacy empowers authoritarian actors like Netanyahu, while simultaneously emboldening sectarian militias and weakening traditional state structures. “It’s a double-edged sword—quite literally,” he remarks, especially when it comes to balancing regional power plays and proxy conflicts in places like Syria, Iraq, and Yemen.

While the picture appears bleak, Dr. Al-Marashi also points to the resilience of digital resistance. He suggests that civil society and democratizing efforts may survive—if not flourish—through digital activism and what he terms “artivism.” In a region where the state has often failed to provide basic services, digital spaces may serve as the last frontier for democratic imagination and mobilization.

This interview captures the complexity of a region grappling with entrenched authoritarianism amid a globally permissive environment—and offers critical insights into how populist movements and power politics intersect in the 21st century Middle East.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi.

Imperial Legacies and Oil Wealth Laid the Foundation for Authoritarian Populism in the Middle East

Oil pump jack in the desert of Bahrain. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Ibrahim Al-Marashi, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: What historical and socio-political conditions in Iraq and the broader Middle East have laid the groundwork for the rise of populist authoritarianism in the region?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: The obvious factors are imperial interference and hydrocarbons—oil and gas. The involvement of foreign powers, whether Britain or the US, consistently provides a convenient enemy to rally against. Meanwhile, hydrocarbons enable political elites to generate revenue without relying on taxation. This, in turn, enhances populism, as the revenues can be distributed directly through large-scale projects that bolster support for figures like Saddam Hussein—or any other authoritarian leader—not only in Iraq but across the region.

How have legacies of colonialism, militarization, and post-conflict governance contributed to the entrenchment of populist and authoritarian leadership styles in the Middle East?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: In the case of Iraq, the British were always a convenient target to rally against. In other states ruled by France, for example, populations could similarly rally against the legacy of the colonial power. Even if you look at ISIS as a kind of populist and terrorist group, its goal of dismantling borders was an attempt to mobilize the masses—not just in the Middle East, but across the entire Muslim world. Saddam Hussein framed the invasion of Kuwait as an effort to erase borders established by British colonialism, making it a similarly convenient rallying point. And then, let’s not forget the United States. In the case of the Houthis, for instance, their appeal extends not only beyond Yemen but throughout the region, as they are perceived as one of the last groups seeking agency in a region largely shaped by US control. This is the legacy: there are concrete historical borders that have divided communities, but there is also, in the collective imagination, a persistent target around which to rally. 

Authoritarianism Has Become the New Norm—This Is the Future

From a populism perspective, how are shifting global power dynamics — especially the rise of multipolarity and the return of a nationalist, transactional Trump administration — shaping authoritarian resilience and weakening democratic aspirations in the Middle East? In what ways might these trends bolster authoritarian populist movements across the region?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Authoritarianism has become normalized—it’s now the prevailing norm. Even though the US has often behaved in authoritarian ways, it at least used to pay lip service to the promotion of democratic governance around the world. I think that facade has now been abandoned. As a result, populist leaders can more or less say, “Look, if the US is adopting these behaviors, this is the new norm—this is the future.”

Even in the case of Russia, there appears to be, at the very least, a personalistic rapprochement—a relationship based more on the closeness of individual leaders than shared values. The emerging regime type in this multipolar world is personalistic—what you might call sultanistic—drawing on the term “Sultan,” as used by the academic Houchang Chehabi.

If that’s the case, then there is no longer a democratic model to aspire to. This increasingly looks like the wave of the future—the future of governance.

How has the populist rhetoric of the Trump administrations—particularly their framing of “radical Islam” and their regional double standards—impacted the legitimacy of state institutions and non-state actors in Iraq and the broader Middle East?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: In this case, there are two dynamics at play. This ties back to your earlier question about transactional foreign policy. If Trump makes a deal with Iran over its nuclear program—well, the Iraqi Shia militias are essentially mass mobilization forces for the Shia population, and much of that mobilization is supported by Iran. If Iran enters negotiations with the US, it would have less incentive to continue backing those militias. That’s one example involving non-state actors.

Then there’s the other paradox: an escalation of the war against the Houthis in Yemen. Iran might choose to rein them in, but if not, the Houthis may continue attacking Red Sea shipping as a consequence of these ongoing tensions. This illustrates how transactionalism, populism, and non-state actors intersect in the region.

Transactional Diplomacy Fuels Sectarian Populism

Shiite fighters take position in the Shia village of Al-Zahra, Syria, amid intense clashes involving Hezbollah.
Photo: Ibrahim Khader / Pacific Press.

Could the Trump administration’s emphasis on transactional diplomacy further embolden sectarian and ethnic populism in conflict zones like Iraq, Syria, Lebanon and how?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Not okay—on two levels. Transactional diplomacy with Netanyahu might embolden him to act unilaterally in Syria and Lebanon, and perhaps even as far as Yemen. Israel’s actions in these areas could fuel sectarianism in several ways: it could lead to a resurgence of Hezbollah in Lebanon, embolden the Houthis, and prompt Israel to use the Syrian Druze minority as a proxy. That’s one pathway through which sectarianism might be intensified.

Israel might also be emboldened to target Iraq’s Shia militias, which are part of the so-called “axis of resistance.”

On the other hand, if this transactional diplomacy were to result in a grand bargain with Iran, those same actors might be reined in.

So it’s a double-edged sword—quite literally—in terms of how this foreign policy could shape the region.

In your view, how does the militarization of politics via militias such as The Popular Mobilization Units (PMU) reflect populist strategies of political mobilization in the Middle East, especially in terms of bypassing traditional democratic institutions and appealing to ‘the people’?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: The PMU is really a broad body of militias. A good number of them first emerged to resist the US occupation of Iraq. Initially, I don’t think it was about bypassing democratic institutions. Many were mobilized because Ayatollah Sistani was able to rally the masses in response to the ISIS threat.

The way they later contributed to undermining institutions in Iraq was by becoming a parallel force to the Iraqi military, and eventually by playing a role against the protests that called for better governance and technocratic rule.

So it’s complicated. The Popular Mobilization Units emerged in response to the occupation, later served as Iranian proxies, then fought against ISIS, and eventually remained as a force that prevented the Iraqi military from maintaining a monopoly on violence—borrowing from Max Weber’s concept.

Again, we’re at an inflection point. I think it all hinges on a potential deal with Iran: whether these militias will be reined in and subsumed into the army or the security sector, or whether they will continue to act as spoilers to Iraq’s post-conflict governance structure.

When the State Fails, Militias Become the Security Provider

Mahdi Scouts boys during a funeral ceremony in Jannata, southern Lebanon, on February 9, 2017, for a Hezbollah military commander killed in the Syrian war.
Photo: Nabil Kassir.

Considering your work on COVID-19 and militia reinvention, how do crises (like pandemics or conflicts) serve as opportunities for populist-authoritarian actors in the Middle East to entrench power under the guise of serving ‘the people’—and how might this intensify under a second Trump presidency?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Take the case of the pandemic—and I’ll give you an example closer to home, where I am in San Diego. When COVID hit Mexico, you had drug cartels, like those formerly under Guzmán (El Chapo), distributing medical kits—such as masks and water—to people affected by COVID-19. In other words, when the Mexican security sector failed and the health sector also failed, these non-state actors filled the void. They became both the security and health sectors.

That’s exactly what happened with COVID-19 in the Middle East—in places like Lebanon, Yemen, and Iraq. It was the Houthis, Hezbollah, and the Shia militias that were disinfecting public spaces, distributing masks, and so on. What these places have in common is the collapse of the security sector. As Max Weber said, when the state no longer holds a legitimate monopoly on violence, non-state actors step in and become both the security and health providers.

This is ultimately an indictment of the weak health sectors in those societies. But the weak health sector is a reflection of a weak security sector—you don’t have an army capable of enforcing the state’s monopoly on violence. When the state is unable to provide basic services—what we call biopower, the ability to keep the population alive—you get necropolitics instead. That’s when the state is too weak to deliver health services, and violent non-state actors—cartels or militias—step in to fill the void.

How do Middle Eastern regimes employ especially Islamist populist rhetoric domestically to justify authoritarian practices, especially in an international environment increasingly tolerant of illiberal governance?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Islamist rhetoric is by definition an attempt to mobilize the masses through faith. When governance fails, you turn to divine governance to justify authority and appeal to the imagination. That’s how I would see it. It’s similar to using anti-colonial rhetoric—it’s more or less an appeal to the masses. When the public has very little faith in the structures that govern them, this is where Islamist rhetoric steps in to fill the gap.

Every Power Is Backing Proxies—Democracy Is No Longer the Goal

What role do you foresee for regional actors (such as Saudi Arabia, Iran, and Turkey) playing in either reinforcing authoritarianism or providing openings for democratic movements under these new global conditions?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: You know, in that regional mix, I would also add Israel—and this is a post-October 7th development. I’ll tell you why. In 2011, during the Arab Spring, for the first time in the region’s history, the US more or less refrained from intervening in the fate of regimes. It allowed the regime of Hosni Mubarak, a longtime ally, to fall. In that vacuum, Saudi Arabia and Iran engaged in a regional cold war, with Turkey also entering the mix. It became, in effect, a three-way conflict.

What followed was a regional cold war accompanied by counter-revolutionary dynamics. One of those counter-revolutionary tendencies eventually prevailed. Turkey, Iran, and Saudi Arabia each chose sides—supporting different counter-revolutionary or revisionist forces. These rivalries played out through proxy conflicts.

Now, after October 7th, Israel has entered the fray.

So the region today looks very different from the era of Arab Spring optimism. Every major power is backing proxies to serve its own interests. And this is especially evident in Syria.

If you want to understand how four actors are shaping Syria’s future: Turkey is deeply invested in the current Syrian government; Israel is working to expand its presence; Saudi Arabia is wiping away Syria’s debts; and Iran is trying to preserve the influence it has lost. None of these four powers are interested in a transition to democratic governance in Syria. All are focused on maintaining their respective spheres of influence. In that sense, each is likely to reinforce autocratic tendencies. They are more inclined to back warlords as proxies than to support any meaningful democratic transition.

Given the historical reliance of Middle Eastern authoritarian regimes on external patrons, how might a US foreign policy under Trump 2.0 reshape alliances, especially with regimes facing internal legitimacy crises?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: I think the best case in point is how close the Trump administration was to Saudi Arabia. So it might try, in a second term, a strategy of offshore balancing—essentially carving out spheres of influence in a multipolar system and telling Saudi Arabia: “We’re not really concerned about your human rights issues, but you maintain order in the Gulf.”

The US would provide as many weapons as needed, and of course, Trump would say, “You have to pay for them,” to boost his standing domestically. But the message would be: it’s your job to be the policeman in the Gulf. That’s what I mean by offshore balancing.

The same approach would likely apply to Israel. That doesn’t bode well for the future of Palestinian governance, and Saudi Arabia would have little incentive to address human rights issues—as long as it continues to receive a blank check from Washington.

Authoritarianism Is Not Just Tolerated—The Masses Are Seen to Want It

Protest march in Beirut against Lebanon bombing by Israel. Photo: Sadık Gulec.

Could the erosion of liberal democratic norms in the West, accelerated by populist leaders like Trump, provide ideological “cover” for Middle Eastern populist-authoritarian leaders? How?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Absolutely—especially now that the US doesn’t even go through the motions of paying lip service to human rights.

From the perspective of international relations theory—specifically constructivism—a new norm has been constructed: not only can authoritarian governance be tolerated, but the masses actually want it. It’s no accident that the masses elected someone like Trump. Or, to go further, take the case of El Salvador—you have another kind of authoritarian-populist leader who is more or less aligned with the Trump administration’s approach.

And I think that’s become a model for the rest of the world. Regimes can now say: not only does the US want strongman leadership, but you—the people—want it too. Because a strong hand gets things done.

In what ways might regional populist movements exploit global discourses of “national sovereignty” and “anti-globalism,” championed by Trumpism, to consolidate authoritarian rule?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: When you talk about discourses and global dynamics, there’s an important element here called digital populism. All of this is enabled because politics now also occurs on a digital plane. More or less, digital platforms have become a way for authoritarian regimes to bypass traditional media structures and appeal directly to the masses—especially in cases where traditional media has not yet been fully co-opted by authoritarian leaders. So, to answer your question, digital populism is the key. It’s the mechanism through which these discourses become normalized and reach mass audiences.

Exclusion, Not Sectarianism, Is the Real Threat

Given the weakening of traditional international pressure for democratization, do you foresee populist movements in the Middle East mutating toward more overt forms of sectarianism, ethno-nationalism, or exclusionary politics?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: I would say more toward exclusionary politics. And here’s why: if we look at this in terms of ethno-sectarianism, I wonder if the region has been exhausted by those challenges. Let me explain what I mean. At one point, the so-called “axis of resistance” included Persian Twelver Shia Iran; Arab Twelver Shia militias in Iraq; an Arab Alawite regime in Syria; Arab Twelver Shia Hezbollah; Zaydi Shia Houthis in Yemen; and Arab Sunni Islamist groups like Islamic Jihad and Hamas. Of course, that axis of resistance has been dealt a very heavy blow in recent years. But the fact that such an ideologically diverse coalition could form makes me question whether the ethno-sectarian frame has been over-fetishized. There are other, more complex realities on the ground.

I think ethnic and sectarian identities are securitized—that is, they are instrumentalized when convenient for those in power, and then abandoned when such divisions no longer serve political interests. So, if that’s the case, I see the trajectory more in terms of exclusionary politics. Populism becomes a mask to mobilize the masses—but always at the expense of issue-based politics and inclusive governance. Those who are excluded often include civil society actors, journalists, and ethnic minorities, for example.

In a context where Western powers show declining interest in promoting democracy abroad, is there still space for bottom-up democratization efforts in the Middle East, or are we entering a phase of entrenched authoritarianism?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: I don’t think they’re mutually exclusive. We are indeed facing entrenched authoritarianism, but I would also say—thinking back to digital populism—that if authoritarianism is being entrenched through digital means, then perhaps bottom-up approaches can also survive through digital spaces.

I’m thinking, for example, of the digital hacktivist collective Anonymous. During the Arab Spring, when various regimes tried to crush protests, Anonymous hacked into state systems in support of the protesters. That’s just one example.

Because, of course, ideas can’t be killed, right? And the one sphere that hasn’t been fully subsumed by the state is still the digital realm. I think that’s where these democratic ideas and efforts can continue to exist.

Does that necessarily translate into on-the-ground resistance? That has yet to be seen. But at this particular inflection point, I believe that’s where the ideas will, at the very least, find refuge.

If Silence Is Spreading in the US, Imagine How Much Worse It Is in the Middle East

And finally, Professor Al-Marashi, considering the weakening of global democratic norms, how can civil society actors in the Middle East adapt their strategies for resistance and survival amid a more authoritarian-friendly international environment?

Dr. Ibrahim Al-Marashi: Again, I refer to my previous answer. I think, at the end of the day, these groups might survive digitally. They’ll be able to organize online. But to be honest, if you look at how the region has been transformed since 2011, it does not look good. So many of these actors are barely surviving.

At the end of the day, the ideas might persist—through digital activism, through art, through artivism.

But I’m speaking from the US, where even here, the ability to speak openly—on campuses, for example—is being threatened. If I can sense a wave of silence coming here, I can only imagine how much worse it must be in the Middle East.

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

Dr. Benson on Trump’s Assault: To Resist a Coordinated Attack, We Need a Coordinated Defense

by Editor’s ChoiceHomeInterviews

On the 100th day of Trump’s second term, ECPS sat down with Dr. Robert Benson of the Center for American Progress to dissect the anatomy of democratic backsliding. In this wide-ranging interview, Dr. Benson warns of a “coordinated assault” on American civil society and urges a “coordinated defense” in response. Drawing comparisons with Turkey and Hungary, he highlights the early stages of authoritarian consolidation and calls for a “whole-of-society” mobilization. “We’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever moved in Turkey,” he cautions. From institutional capture to international instability, Dr. Benson’s insights are a timely wake-up call. “Authoritarians have coordinated,” he says—“now it’s time for democrats to do the same.” 

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Marking the 100th day of Donald Trump’s second administration, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) sat down with Dr. Robert Benson, Associate Director for National Security and International Policy at the Center for American Progress (CAP), to discuss one of the most urgent questions of our time: how democracies can defend themselves against coordinated authoritarian assaults. Drawing on comparative insights from Hungary, Turkey, and the United States, Dr. Benson offers a sobering but clarifying analysis of democratic backsliding and populist autocratization.

“This is truly a critical question,” Dr. Benson begins. “We must understand the timeline and scope of democratic backsliding.” While emphasizing the uniqueness of national contexts, he identifies recurring “red flags,” notably the failure of institutions and elites to respond decisively during what he calls the “early window”—the critical phase before authoritarians consolidate power. In the US case, Dr. Benson critiques what he calls a “politics of respectability” within the Democratic Party—an adherence to procedural norms long after the opposing party has abandoned them.

In an increasingly polarized and factionalized America, Dr. Benson warns of the systematic targeting of democratic institutions across civil society. Citing the German term Gleichschaltung—the 1930s strategy of coordinated authoritarian control—he stresses the need for a similarly coordinated democratic defense. “You target them all at once, and they fold,” he says of authoritarian strategy. “So how do we respond effectively? We need to build alliances… Business, universities, media—need to begin communicating with one another.”

Perhaps most striking is Dr. Benson’s comparison between institutional capture in Turkey and current trends in the US, where he argues the pace of democratic erosion is even faster. “We’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever moved in Turkey,” he warns. His call to action is clear: without “whole-of-society” mobilization that extends beyond coastal elites and engages Middle America, resistance risks fragmentation.

Dr. Benson does not limit his concern to domestic threats. He sees Trump’s foreign policy and suspension of military aid to Ukraine as emblematic of a broader unraveling of the post-1945 liberal order. “This is a complete victory for Vladimir Putin,” he states bluntly. From global alliances to civil liberties at home, the consequences are profound.

Yet amid the gravity of his analysis, Dr. Benson also sees opportunity—particularly in building transnational democratic networks. “Authoritarians have done a better job at coordinating,” he admits. “But that can change—if democratic actors start sharing tactics, intelligence, and, most importantly, a common purpose.”

The interview with Dr. Benson is a call to strategic clarity—and a coordinated democratic defense.

Dr. Robert Benson, Associate Director for National Security and International Policy at the Center for American Progress (CAP).

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Robert Benson.

Democracies Don’t Fall All at Once—They Fold, Institution by Institution, Unless We Resist in Time

Dr. Benson, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: To what extent do you see parallels between the initial public hesitation to resist Trump’s authoritarian tendencies in the US and the delayed resistance movements in Hungary, Turkey, and Serbia that you describe? How crucial is the timing of resistance in preventing democratic collapse?

Dr. Robert Benson: This is truly a critical question—understanding the timeline and scope of democratic backsliding. It’s important to acknowledge from the outset that the United States, Turkey, and Hungary are each unique cases. There isn’t a simple one-to-one comparison to be made between these systems, given their distinct political cultures, histories, and institutional frameworks. That said, there are certain common denominators—what I would call red flags—regarding how opposition forces respond during moments of constitutional peril. One recurring pattern is an initial hesitancy among those in positions of authority—within institutions—to take the threat seriously.

Let me begin with an American example. There has long been a belief—though I think that belief is starting to shift—that the Democratic Party, as the party of opposition, must adhere to a politics of respectability. That is, “we are not them,” and therefore we will stick to the rules of the game. This approach involves granting the ruling party the benefit of the doubt, even when it repeatedly disregards constitutional norms and even codified laws. This politics of respectability stems from a fundamental belief among many party members that they are still dealing with the Republican Party of 2012—or perhaps even 1995—not with a party that has been overtaken by a revolutionary political movement intent on dismantling the constitutional order. Because once you acknowledge the latter, your behavior must change. You don’t, for example—as the minority leader in the US Senate recently did—vote in favor of a Republican continuing resolution. In other words, you push back.

So why is it that we haven’t necessarily seen that kind of pushback? It stems from a moment of paralysis that often defines the early stages of democratic backsliding—when holding the governing party accountable can seem almost anti-democratic. There’s a reluctance to challenge those in power, a kind of political honeymoon period. But ironically, it’s during that very window that much of the most serious damage is done.

You emphasize the critical “early window” before authoritarians consolidate power. In the current U.S. context under Trump’s second administration, what institutional moves should civil society and opposition forces prioritize to prevent irreversible democratic backsliding? Based on recent U.S. protests, do you believe America is still within the “window of action”—or has it already started slipping into the harder phase of institutional capture?

Dr. Robert Benson: This is really a foundational question. There has to be an element of coordination when dealing with a coordinated attack on democratic institutions. The Germans have a word from the 1930s—originating from the era of state capture by the NSDAP—Gleichschaltung. It means coordination: getting business interests, civil society, universities to toe the government line and to yield to authority—all at once. You target them simultaneously, and they fold.

Now, I’m not making a direct comparison to the 1930s. I’m invoking the term more for what it offers in terms of definition. What we’re seeing today is a coordinated assault by the administration on all facets of American civil society—our universities, our civil service, the media, business interests—all happening at once. That’s intentional.

So how do we respond effectively? We need to build alliances. These individual, often atomized, components of our civil society—business, universities, media—need to begin communicating with one another. There must be an understanding that we need a broad democratic or republican front against this administration.

That’s why it’s so important, for example, for a university like Harvard, with a robust endowment, to stand firm and not capitulate to the administration’s demands. It creates a permission structure for others—whether in the media or private sector—to follow suit. That brings us to what I think is a fundamental law of democratic backsliding. And this idea isn’t mine—it comes from Tim Snyder, in his Twenty Lessons on Tyranny. His first lesson: Do not obey in advance.

Don’t give them what they want without even a fight. That’s exactly what was happening in the US at the beginning—with law firms like Skadden, for instance, capitulating before even receiving a list of demands. Or Columbia University, where the dominoes were falling quickly. The administration settled cases with ABC after the George Stephanopoulos interview, and there was another with CBS after an interview with Kamala Harris that Trump didn’t like.

But now we’re beginning to see a shift. There’s growing resistance to this impulse to obey in advance—and that is, I think, a reassuring sign.

We Only Have Ourselves: Resistance Must Come from Middle America

You noted the critical importance of institutional pushback. Given that some US institutions themselves — like parts of the judiciary or state legislatures — are increasingly aligned with authoritarian currents, how can civil society realistically force institutional resistance when traditional checks and balances are already compromised?

Dr. Robert Benson: The European Union and the United States are obviously two very different systems with two very different capacities for democratic resilience. The European Union has vastly different tools at its disposal compared to the United States.

Take, for example, Article 7 and the withholding of funds. In the Hungarian case, this has been a potent political cudgel that the EU can use to compel rule-of-law behavior. In the US, by contrast, there is no supranational authority that can hold this administration — or even the American courts — accountable for how they comport themselves. We only really have ourselves.

And by the time we reach the point of institutional capture, a lot of damage has already been done. Trump had four years in which to pack the judiciary. And he did — in a manner very reminiscent of what PiS, the Law and Justice party, did in Poland. And when I say similar, I mean strikingly similar. Withholding Merrick Garland’s nomination for 293 days and then ramming through his own nominee, using every tool at the majority’s disposal to pack not just the Supreme Court but also the lower courts.

As a result, about a third of the American judiciary now consists of Trump appointees. That’s a staggering figure — and, depending on your perspective, one of the great “successes” of his administration.

So, lacking any kind of supranational oversight like the EU, the US is left with its domestic institutions — and the most important ones, like the courts, have already been compromised.

Then you move to the legislature, to Congress. This is where it gets even trickier. The US political system has an internal mechanism that enforces party discipline — the primary system. Republicans are afraid to stand up to MAGAism because they face acute primary challenges from the right.

And here’s the really difficult part about democratic backsliding and autocratization: sometimes, especially in the initial phase, it can be popular. Trump won the popular vote. He won all seven swing states. He has a tight grip on one of our two major political parties. Until that grip is broken — and I mean broken from the bottom up, not by pressure from Washington, D.C., or New York or Los Angeles, but from places like Ohio and Middle America — we’re not going to see Congress behaving differently. Because doing so won’t be in their political interest.

In your analysis of European and Turkish cases, mass mobilization alone was often insufficient without elite defections. In today’s US context, do you see any meaningful elite-level breakaways that could help halt Trump’s authoritarian drift — or is elite resistance still too fragmented? What specific lessons can American opposition leaders learn from these cases to build more effective alliances against creeping authoritarianism?

Dr. Robert Benson: Turkey is a fascinating case — and a complex one. You have the AKP effectively in power for over 20 years, with a steady and systematic capture of institutions. As I mentioned in the op-ed, this culminated in the arrest of the mayor of Istanbul, arguably Erdogan’s most formidable challenger in a potential presidential election. Let’s not forget that Erdogan succeeded in changing the Turkish constitution to further consolidate power, shifting the system toward a fully presidential model.

What’s remarkable — and alarming — is that when comparing the Turkish and American cases directly, we’re moving faster in the United States than the AKP ever did in Turkey. That’s startling, but it’s true. And if you consider the damage done in Turkey over that timeline and extrapolate the same arc onto the US, factoring in the potential for at least three and a half more years of Trump — and possibly more, if constitutional meddling occurs, which is not unthinkable given the Republican Party’s trajectory — then the damage here could be decisive. Decisive in the sense of being existential for the Republic.

To return more directly to your question: Why is it that some cases of mass mobilization succeed while others don’t? Mass mobilization has to have a clear, unified aim. Take the Slovak case in 2018, following the assassination of a prominent investigative journalist. That led to a whole-of-society mobilization. And I emphasize that term — whole-of-society. That means unity between labor movements, students, public intellectuals, and crucially, ordinary people who may not identify as political at all. Historically, dissent tends to be concentrated in elite or intellectual circles — in Turkey, for instance, in large cities along the Mediterranean coast or like Istanbul or Izmir.

But if resistance remains confined to these enclaves, it remains too narrow to shift national trajectories. You have to expand the aperture. In the US, this means the opposition to Trump cannot be concentrated just on the coasts, nor can it come solely from universities or the educated elite. It has to emerge from Middle America. That’s when real political challenges begin to register.

The Romanian case against attempts to weaken anti-corruption laws is another example. Protests weren’t limited to Bucharest — they were widespread across cities like Timișoara and Cluj. That geographic spread was essential in forcing parliamentary actors to defect, to break with the government’s agenda and block the legislation. That’s the kind of pressure that needs to be replicated in the American case — to force elite-level defections. In this context, defecting means breaking with President Trump and his agenda. 

Cultural and Economic Dislocation Is the Authoritarians’ Playground

Nigel Farage speaking in Dover, Kent, UK, on May 28, 2024, in support of the Reform Party, of which he is President. Photo: Sean Aidan Calderbank.

You describe how conspiracy theories and economic neglect fueled authoritarianism in both the US and Europe. Beyond restoring institutional trust, what societal interventions — if any — do you believe are most critical to reversing the cultural dislocation exploited by the new authoritarians?

Dr. Robert Benson: The question of the genesis of these political movements — how they came to be — is still being debated in the social sciences. This is very much a live debate. By and large, you can summarize the competing perspectives along two poles: culture and economy. I think it’s probably a bit of both.

What do I mean by culture and economy? On the economic side, it’s the classic tale of globalization gone wrong. You have a globalized economy from the late 1990s into the 2000s that resulted in a hollowing out of the middle class across industrial societies — principally in the United States. Think of the American Rust Belt: the industrial heartland losing manufacturing jobs. But also look at Europe. Take the United Kingdom, particularly the North and Northeast.

If you continue to follow the economic thesis, it suggests people experienced a depreciating standard of living. They felt left behind by a political establishment that was inattentive to their concerns — and they began voting for the extremes. Then came the hucksters and charlatans — the Nigel Farages, the Brexiteers, or in the American case, Trump — who said, “I understand your pain. I get it. You’ve been screwed over by a political elite that doesn’t understand how hard it is to get by day to day.”

Then comes the pitch: setting Middle America — or the working-class communities of the Red Wall in the UK — against the elites in London or the elites in Washington and New York. And this is where the cultural element comes in. It’s not only that you’ve been economically neglected and cast aside by this mad embrace of globalization, whatever that means — but on top of that, you’ve been alienated culturally.

There are no cinemas in your town. No one tours there. There are no concerts, no communal activities. No opportunities for you to engage in public debate. You’re isolated. You’re economically disadvantaged. And you don’t share in — not just the national wealth — but the cultural wealth that society produces. And that makes people really mad.

So, it’s the combination of economic and cultural dislocation. The opportunity structures that exist within these two pillars gave us populism as a political phenomenon. But more specifically, authoritarian populism. Because populism on its own isn’t enough. It has to become authoritarian — in the sense that there’s only one solution: our solution. Democracy itself, they argue, has failed us. Therefore, we must look beyond democratic remedies.

The Hegemon Has Withdrawn—Now Comes the Disorder

You argue that Trump’s America First policy has undermined global stability and encouraged aggression. How much damage to the international liberal order is now irreversible, and where should democratic states prioritize defense and rebuilding efforts?

Dr. Robert Benson: If we’re moving from a domestic analysis—looking internally at our societies and what gave rise to authoritarian populism—to the international level, we see that authoritarian populism is highly destructive. It’s destructive because it fundamentally does not believe in cooperation.

The international order that the United States principally helped establish after 1945 was built on cooperation. Some would argue that this order was defined by American hegemony. But that hegemony, for all its flaws, created the conditions for global cooperation.

So, what happens when the hegemon withdraws? That is precisely what’s occurring now. The US is retreating from the international domain. We’re witnessing a descent into multipolarity—and potentially into regional or factional rivalries. This is dangerous for a number of reasons. It introduces a profound element of uncertainty.

In this new world of geopolitical competition, what is to stop an autocrat like Vladimir Putin from not only invading Ukraine but also extending aggression toward the Baltic States? What is to stop Xi Jinping in China from pursuing territorial ambitions in Taiwan?

More to the point—if we consider the realm of political economy—what is to stop nations from retreating entirely into protectionism and national isolationism, shielding their domestic industries to the detriment of their peers and neighbors?

Some might even attempt to annex foreign resources, as we’ve seen hints of US policies toward Ukraine’s critical minerals—or potentially even ambitions involving Canada or Greenland. This marks a retreat from the rules-based international order the US helped to forge after World War II, while simultaneously becoming the principal antagonist to that very order.

How has Donald Trump’s suspension of military aid to Ukraine reshaped not only the war’s dynamics but also the global perception of America’s commitment to democracy and international alliances? Can this policy shift be seen as a strategic victory for authoritarian regimes like Russia’s?

Dr. Robert Benson: Well, we can begin with the latter part of the question. I mean, certainly this is a victory for Russia. It’s a complete victory for Vladimir Putin—he could not have wished for a better outcome. From the beginning, Putin claimed that he didn’t have to win in Ukraine; he just had to wait out the Americans and the West, who he believed would grow tired and fickle in their commitment. And that’s exactly what has happened.

There’s a prevailing attitude among segments of the American public that Ukraine is a boondoggle. Take, for example, the hurricane that hit Asheville, North Carolina, last year and caused extensive damage to an economically deprived region. Trump and his allies on Fox News were able to exploit that moment by drawing a stark comparison: all this money—$60 billion in supplemental aid—is going to Ukraine, while Americans at home receive next to nothing. FEMA famously issued a check for about $750, and the narrative quickly became: $750 for you, even though you lost your home, but $60 billion for Ukraine. Now, that’s a misleading comparison—$750 was just an initial payout—but the narrative stuck. And it was highly effective. This is where Trumpism and MAGAism connect the domestic with the international. But what does this mean for the American-led alliance? At best, it means that alliance is destabilized. At worst, it means it has failed—that it’s over.

The new German Chancellor, Friedrich Merz, on election night, said that Europe has to begin preparing for independence from the United States. He actually said this. The Americans have managed to turn the Germans into the French when it comes to strategic autonomy. That’s truly remarkable. There isn’t a more staunchly Atlanticist political culture than Berlin’s, yet there’s now a growing realization in Europe that the United States cannot be counted on.

Even if the Americans come back in 2028 with a new Democratic president and say, “We’re back,” who’s going to believe them? US politics have become so polarized and unpredictable—veering from one extreme to the other—that even that kind of return won’t restore trust.

Frankly, I’m skeptical that a Democrat will win the White House in 2028. The long-term trends point toward a consolidation of MAGA-style Republicanism. So, what do our European partners do in the meantime? They need to prepare for a post–Pax Americana—a world where the United States is no longer the hegemon, where its network of alliances no longer provides a reliable security guarantee. And they need to do this as quickly as possible.

The Far Right Coordinates Better Than Progressives—But Cracks Are Emerging

Giorgia Meloni, leader of Brothers of Italy, Silvio Berlusconi, leader of Forza Italia and Matteo Salvini, leader of the League, attend a center-right coalition rally in Rome, Italy on March 01, 2018. Photo: Alessia Pierdomenico.

How do you see the growing alliance between the American and European far right — as highlighted at events like CPAC (Conservative Political Action Conference) — accelerating global disorder? How significant is this transatlantic connection for democratic resilience in both Europe and the United States, and how seriously should mainstream democratic actors take this emerging cross-border coordination? What counterstrategies do you recommend to disrupt this movement before it becomes too entrenched, and is there still a realistic path to reverse its momentum?

Dr. Robert Benson: There’s something ironic—almost bizarre—about the fact that hyper-nationalists and authoritarian nationalists are, in many ways, more effectively internationalizing their political movements than progressives. Intuitively, one would assume that it’s in the DNA of liberal and progressive political parties to coordinate across borders more easily than nationalists, whose worldview is, by definition, insular. But the opposite has happened. The far right—and the authoritarians—have done a much better job at coordinating. This has serious implications. They are learning from one another. There’s a phenomenon called “autocratic learning,” where figures like Viktor Orbán realize that if they replace civil servants with party loyalists, they can more effectively control the machinery of government. Donald Trump observes this, communicates with Fidesz advisors, partners with the Heritage Foundation, and suddenly we see efforts to purge the civil service in Washington, D.C.

This is incredibly concerning—not only are they learning from one another in the abstract, but they are actively communicating, including at venues like CPAC. That said, I would qualify this by noting something interesting is happening. Because nationalists are inherently insular, there is always the risk of rupture in their alliances. And I think we may now be witnessing such a rupture. Look, for example, at how Marine Le Pen has responded to trade war rhetoric—she’s taken a very anti-American, or at least anti-American-administration, stance. AfD leaders like Alice Weidel have openly stated that German national interests are antithetical to those of the United States. So, embedded in these movements is a core belief in national self-interest that makes sustained international coordination inherently fragile. It’s only a matter of time before these tensions come to the fore.

Interestingly, what we’re now seeing—contrary to my earlier expectations—is that Trump may actually be catalyzing division within the European far right. These actors are distancing themselves, saying, “We didn’t sign up for this. We’re not in favor of the trade war. We don’t want to hurt rural workers in France or Germany.” This distancing is notable and worth watching. So, there’s nuance here. While the transatlantic authoritarian alliance is real and dangerous, it may not be as stable or unified as it initially appeared.

You describe the far right’s globalization as a new, coordinated movement. In practical terms, do you see any emerging counter-globalization among pro-democracy forces, or is the liberal democratic camp still acting mostly in isolated national silos?

Dr. Robert Benson: I think this follows nicely from the conversation we were just having. Yes, I do think the far right—and the authoritarian right—has done a better job of coordinating in recent years. There are, as I’ve discussed, vulnerabilities to that coordination.

So how do progressive, pro-democracy forces respond? They respond, first and foremost, by talking to each other. The Democratic Party in the United States has to be in contact not only with the Liberal Party in the United Kingdom and the Social Democrats in Germany—in terms of their common ideological alignment—but, quite frankly, with all parties that believe in the rule of law and democracy.

In particular, I think it would behoove the Americans to start talking to parties that have actually experienced societal democratic backsliding. Talk to the CHP in Turkey. Talk to the Serbian opposition. Talk to Elly Schlein’s PD in Italy, which is contending with Meloni. It’s important that we move beyond viewing the world strictly through the lens of left-to-left or right-to-right dialogues. Instead, we should begin thinking in terms of: who believes in democracy and preserving constitutional order—and who doesn’t? That’s the fundamental question of our time. And then we need to coordinate accordingly with those who share democratic commitments, sharing information, tactics, and messaging on how to effectively push back against incumbent authoritarian threats within our own societies.

Don’t Just Defend Democracy—Explain Why It Matters to Daily Life

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

Drawing from the examples of Turkey and Hungary that you cited, once authoritarian populists consolidate institutions, reversal becomes nearly impossible. What lessons should US opposition parties urgently learn from these cases to avoid repeating the same mistakes?

Dr. Robert Benson: There seems to be an emerging consensus that talking about democracy alone is probably insufficient. A colleague once told me, “I can’t eat the rule of law. It doesn’t put food on my table. It doesn’t pay for my prescription drugs.” And it may potentially ring hollow when a hyper-educated and cultural elite from Washington, D.C., or any of these national capitals, talks about the rule of law—about democracy—as these kind of abstract concepts that you can’t really concretize.

Maybe we have to do the important intellectual work of connecting these concepts—these abstract notions—to real-world things. What I mean by that is: it’s not just that losing the rule of law is dangerous in itself (which it is), but that it creates permission structures for corruption. Your quality of life is materially worse off when you cannot rely on the state to do what it’s supposed to do—and to do so honorably. So talk about that. Talk about how democratic backsliding undermines public healthcare—how it renders it ineffective—or how it takes away from public education, how it creates different strata of access based on who has connections, based on who can pay and who cannot.

Make it very clear that it’s not just a defense of these concepts in themselves that warrants our attention, but how these concepts intersect and feed into our lived experiences as citizens—of a collective, of a community. Because if we can do that—and do it successfully—we bring so many more people into our camp. So it is a challenge for those who believe in the rule of law, who believe in democracy, not simply to stop there, but to take it one extra step—and just tell us why it matters: to my life, and to the life of my children and my family. Because I think that is the only way we create a robust, whole-of-society resistance.

And lastly, Dr. Benson, reflecting on your comparison of today’s political climate with the pre-WWII appeasement of Nazi Germany, what lessons should US and European leaders draw right now to avoid repeating historical failures, especially when facing coordinated disinformation and populist-authoritarian challenges?

Dr. Robert Benson: History doesn’t repeat itself.  I mean, the famous line is that history repeats itself, but actually, it more accurately rhymes. I don’t think we’re living through some kind of redux of the 1930s. Having said that, that doesn’t mean there aren’t lessons we can derive from the breakup of Czechoslovakia. Kaja Kallas-EU High Representative-famously said that this is 1938 and that we need to act accordingly. I’m not so sure it’s 1938—that would imply the response would have to be complete victory over Russia, the seizing of Moscow. I mean, that’s not where we are. Let’s be honest about where we are. We have echoes of the 1930s in our politics. So I think that means we have to take seriously threats both domestically to our democracies, but also to an international order that is under pressure.

The more appropriate comparison in my mind than the 1930s would actually most likely be the pre-World War I period, where you had incredible inequalities within societies and also between states. You had, for the first time, a truly globalized economy that had undergone an economic shock. And then you had the seemingly unstoppable spiral toward catastrophe—towards a global war. I think these dynamics are the ones that most concern me, and these are the dynamics I think were prevalent in the early 20th century, in the lead-up to the First World War. So I’m not so sure about the utility of making the 1930s comparison per se. But I do think, insofar as it serves as a wake-up call, it’s important for us to realize there’s work to be done.

Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa addresses supporters of his ADN party. Photo: Miles Astray.

Dr. Mazzolini: Noboa Turns to Populism Not to Transform Ecuador, But to Survive

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In an interview with ECPS, Dr. Samuele Mazzolini argues that Ecuadorian President Daniel Noboa has embraced populism not as a vehicle for transformation, but as a strategy to maintain power amid crisis. Recently re-elected after a snap presidency, Noboa has relied on emergency decrees, militarized crackdowns, and anti-crime rhetoric. “Populism has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image,” Dr. Mazzolini asserts. Despite branding himself as a technocrat, Noboa “lacks a coherent national project” and governs through “sheer improvisation.” Dr. Mazzolini warns that Ecuador is entering a “permanent state of exception,” with rising authoritarian tendencies and no clear roadmap for reform.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a sharply observed conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Samuele Mazzolini—Adjunct Professor of Political Science at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice—offers a sobering analysis of Ecuador’s evolving political landscape under President Daniel Noboa. Recently re-elected in the April 2025 run-off, Noboa secured a full four-year term after what he called a “historic” victory. He originally came to power in November 2023 through a snap election and has since defined his presidency by launching a militarized crackdown on Ecuador’s powerful criminal gangs—an approach that has dominated his public image as the country became the most violent in the region.

Despite his win, Noboa’s left-wing challenger, Luisa González, rejected the result, alleging fraud without providing evidence. Against this backdrop of tension and insecurity, Mazzolini argues that Noboa’s political style is not grounded in reform, but in survival. “In Noboa’s case, [populism] has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image,” he asserts.

Though Noboa projected a moderate and technocratic profile during his initial campaign, his presidency has taken a decisive right-wing populist turn. “He wasn’t the ‘security candidate.’ That was Jan Topić… But the very moment he took office, he took a different turn,” Dr. Mazzolini notes. Noboa’s embrace of penal populism—relying on military force and emergency powers—has so far failed to reduce violence. “Despite tough talk on crime and gangs, the rates haven’t improved,” Dr. Mazzolini observes.

Crucially, Dr. Mazzolini emphasizes the absence of a coherent political vision. “What are his views on industrial relations? Agricultural policy? Same-sex marriage?” he asks. “There are countless areas where he appears to have no defined position.” Unlike Rafael Correa, whose government—though polarizing—pursued a structured national project, Noboa seems adrift, leaning on improvised alliances and securitarian rhetoric.

As Dr. Mazzolini concludes, Noboa’s presidency appears less like a populist transition toward transformation, and more like the entrenchment of a permanent state of exception: “a deliberate effort to take advantage of the situation… because he saw the opportunity was ripe to consolidate his image.”

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini —Adjunct Professor of Political Science at Ca’ Foscari University of Venice.

Here is the lightly edited transcript of the interview with Dr. Samuele Mazzolini.

Securitarian Populism, Not Technocratic Reform

Professor Mazzolini, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How should Daniel Noboa’s recent electoral victory be interpreted within the broader trajectory of populism in Ecuador? Does it signify a new phase in the evolution of populist politics in the country, or a rearticulation of existing populist paradigms under a technocratic-securitarian guise?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: There has certainly been a shift toward a kind of penal populism—one that places heavy emphasis on delivering security, increasing national safety, and attempting to curb the unchecked expansion of criminal gangs in Ecuador. So yes, it is clearly a rearticulation of populism under a securitarian guise. 

However, I wouldn’t say there’s much technocracy at play. If you look at Noboa’s first year and a half in office, it’s been marked by sheer incompetence, indolence, and a general lack of professionalism. There hasn’t been much evidence of technocratic governance—despite the polished image he projects. 

Daniel Noboa is a young figure, fluent in English, US-educated, and he carries himself well. But if you examine his actual decisions and decrees over the past 18 months, they leave a lot to be desired. So, again, I don’t see technocracy; I see a strong security discourse that, in practice, hasn’t delivered. If you look at the numbers, despite tough talk on crime and gangs, the rates haven’t improved. Ecuador remains a very unsafe place, and the population continues to live under the grip of organized crime.

Do you see Noboa’s re-election and hardline tactics as signaling a right-wing variant of the populist-institutional tensions you identified in Rafael Correa’s government?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Certainly. When populist politics is prolonged, it becomes increasingly difficult to construct a stable institutional framework. To put it plainly: unless you succeed in redefining the identity of your adversaries, establishing durable institutions becomes a serious challenge. This requires a transition from a polarizing strategy to one that reintegrates opponents into the emerging order. It’s essential to ensure that the system you build does not unravel or get overturned the moment you leave power.

In that sense, yes, a parallel with Correa can be drawn. Under Correa, there were clear tensions between populist rhetoric and the broader project of institution-building. However, I see two key differences. First, Noboa has been in power for a very short time—just about a year and a half—which is hardly sufficient, even for a populist, to fully articulate a political vision or begin the process of reintegrating adversaries.

Second, and more importantly, Noboa doesn’t appear to have a project for the country. His governance so far seems driven by sheer improvisation. When he was first elected in 2023, I don’t think he expected to win. My impression is that he aimed to perform well to position himself for future elections, but unexpectedly found himself president.

Historically, the Ecuadorian right has lacked a solid, coherent project for the country—aside from capturing the state and bending it to create a more favorable environment for business. In that sense, I doubt he has any clear long-term vision. Let’s see how his plan for a Constituent Assembly develops. He apparently wants to change the current constitutional framework—reversing the progressive constitution drafted under Correa in the early 2000s, which emphasized rights, state planning, and redistribution.

Many fear that his goal is to do away with these provisions and instead draft a new constitution that minimizes rights and reduces the state’s role in planning and redistribution. The intention seems to be to create a more business-friendly climate for both foreign and domestic investors. In short, it looks like a push to take the country back to the neoliberal era.

Noboa’s Populist Signature: Militarization Without Accountability

A soldier peers out from a tank outside a campaign event for Ecuador’s President Daniel Noboa. Photo: Miles Astray.

How does President Noboa’s militarized crackdown on crime reflect elements of penal populism, and in what ways does it diverge from traditional Latin American law-and-order populism?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: A major difference lies in the involvement of the armed forces. If you recall, from the very beginning of his mandate, he declared a state of conflict—he said there was a war going on with criminal gangs—and brought in the armed forces to collaborate with the police in the fight against organized crime. That’s something new. However, it should be noted that the armed forces are not properly trained for patrolling the streets; their training is very different. So I’m not sure how effective they are in that context, and so far, the statistics do not seem to suggest they’ve been particularly useful.

Another major concern is the blatant disregard for human rights and international law. Take, for instance, the case of the four boys from Las Malvinas, a neighborhood in Guayaquil, who were kidnapped, tortured, and brutally killed by the armed forces. And that is just one example—it reflects a broader climate of impunity for the military and police acting under presidential orders. There have been numerous other reports of abuse and extrajudicial disappearances—people who simply vanish—many of whom have no ties to organized crime. A significant number of these victims are Afro-Ecuadorian or individuals with darker skin tones, introducing a deeply troubling racialized dimension to the violence. 

What’s even more alarming and horrifying is the way Noboa’s government has shielded the armed forces and police when such cases have come to light. His handling of the case of the four boys from Las Malvinas reveals a complete disregard for human rights. Now that he has won the election, I believe he will feel even more empowered to continue these measures, while the armed forces are likely to feel increasingly emboldened and protected in carrying out further abuses.

Another example I want to highlight—one that also illustrates how Noboa interprets populism—concerns a serious violation of international law. Take the case of former Vice President Jorge Glas, who had been subjected to lawfare under previous administrations, including the current one. At one point, he was free and sought refuge in the Mexican Embassy in December of last year, after it appeared that Mexican authorities were prepared to grant him asylum. What followed was extraordinary: Ecuadorian police forces stormed the embassy, forcibly removed Glas, and reportedly mistreated embassy personnel. This was a clear and blatant violation of international law. Noboa clearly showed no concern. You might not agree with how the Mexican authorities handled the situation, but there are certain lines that simply should not be crossed. Noboa clearly doesn’t care. By violating international law so blatantly, he presented himself to the public as a leader who doesn’t hesitate to take bold, forceful action. In doing so, he bolstered his image—but in my view, it was a reckless and dangerous step.

Authoritarian Populism Disguised as Emergency Governance

Can Noboa’s extensive use of emergency decrees and military deployments—especially during the election—be seen as a textbook case of authoritarian populism? What democratic vulnerabilities does this strategy expose?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Yes, definitely. We’re witnessing a clear erosion of democratic standards with the emergence of deeply concerning authoritarian tendencies. The continuous state of emergency, the repeated trampling on the rule of law—these are patterns that go beyond Ecuador and are part of a broader trend in Latin American politics. There has always been a tense relationship between populism and the rule of law, that’s for sure. But I think Noboa is taking it a step further.

We’ve seen extensive use of judicial and electoral institutions for his own political ends. As I mentioned earlier, he has guaranteed impunity for the actions of the armed forces and the police. We also saw the strategic use of state-issued vouchers right before the election to secure electoral support—classic clientelist, patronage politics. All of these elements point to a serious erosion of democracy in Ecuador, and it’s something that must be watched very closely.

The only remaining institutional check on Noboa at this point is the National Assembly. He does not have an overwhelming majority there, so he will face resistance in pushing his agenda through formal channels. Still, as we’ve seen many times, there are ways around the Assembly—whether through buying off deputies, forming opportunistic coalitions with new parties, or simply pushing forward presidential decrees.

In short, yes—this is very much a textbook case of authoritarian populism, carried out under the pretext of combating criminal gangs.

Securitizing Crisis to Consolidate Power

Do you interpret Noboa’s invocation of an “internal armed conflict” and the framing of criminal gangs as terrorist threats as part of a broader global trend of securitizing social crises through populist narratives?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Right-wing populism has long prioritized the promise of law and order, placing strong emphasis on crime—whether real or perceived. Often, it is not actual crime statistics but the perception of insecurity, amplified by media narratives, that shapes political responses. In Ecuador’s case, however, the threat is tangible. Crime is a major issue, and the situation has spiraled out of control. The country currently has the highest homicide rate in the region and one of the highest globally. Noboa has taken advantage of this by going a step further—invoking the notion of an “internal armed conflict” and framing criminal gangs as terrorist threats. These groups are indeed violent and organized, but his approach reflects how power is being exercised.

From an analytical standpoint, social crises and security crises are not synonymous, though they often intersect. One may contribute to the other, but the relationship is not automatic. Ecuador has long suffered from poverty and poor economic indicators; these challenges predate the current security crisis. What we are witnessing now is a specific interpretation of how to address security threats—one that cannot be fully explained by social conditions alone. In Ecuador’s case, several additional factors are at play: the partial end of Colombia’s armed conflict, the decision by Mexican cartels to use Ecuadorian gangs as local proxies, and the retrenchment of the state since the Correa era. Following Correa’s departure, state institutions have become less present and less embedded in local territories, creating space for international criminal organizations to establish and consolidate power.

So, as you can see, this is a multifaceted problem that security experts are actively analyzing. Noboa’s brand of right-wing populism has seized upon it to construct a tough-on-crime persona. But, as I’ve already mentioned, the methods he’s employed—particularly the carte blanche given to armed forces and police—don’t appear to have delivered effective results. To address a security crisis meaningfully, you also need to resolve underlying social issues. What’s needed is a far more integrated, comprehensive approach.

Is Noboa’s security offensive more a case of populist responsiveness to widespread public fear, or is it better seen as a calculated strategy for consolidating executive power under the guise of emergency?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: It can be seen both ways. One doesn’t exclude the other. What is striking here is that there seems to be a deliberate effort to take advantage of the situation—a sort of “going populist” because he saw the opportunity was ripe to consolidate his image. When he was a candidate in the previous elections, he came across as a moderate—someone who aimed to rise above the cleavage between Correísmo and anti-Correísmo. He presented himself as a centrist, with even some left-leaning ideas, showing particular concern for the poor.

He wasn’t the “security candidate.” That was Jan Topic—a different figure entirely, who boasted about having worked as a mercenary in various war zones. Of course, everyone talked about crime—it’s been a recurring theme in Ecuadorian electoral campaigns over the last five years—but security didn’t appear to be Noboa’s strongest point, nor the reason people chose him over others.

However, the very moment he took office—and after a fleeting parliamentary collaboration with Correísmo—he took a different turn. He adopted a right-wing populist stance, emphasizing a tough-on-crime approach through extensive deployment of the armed forces, the use of emergency decrees, curfews, and similar measures.

Populism Without a Project Becomes a Tool for Survival

You’ve characterized populism as a “transitional device.” In Noboa’s case, is this transition leading toward a reconfigured institutional logic—or is it entrenching a permanent state of exception?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Yes, I have characterized populism as a “transitional device”—but that’s, of course, when you conceive of populism as a strategy tied to a broader project, a vision for steering society in a particular direction. In that sense, populism serves as a transitional mechanism toward a defined societal transformation. However, not all populists understand or employ populism in that way.

In Noboa’s case, it has simply served as a means to cling to power and bolster his personal image. So yes, I do think he is entrenching a permanent state of exception. We’ll see what happens next—I’m particularly curious whether he’ll try to normalize his authority through the Constituent Assembly. But as I mentioned earlier, I don’t see him as someone with a coherent vision for the country. What are his views on industrial relations? Agricultural policy? Same-sex marriage? There are countless areas where he appears to have no defined position.

This stands in stark contrast to Correa’s project. Whatever one may think of it, that administration had a plan. Its implementation had flaws, certainly, but at least it pursued a clear direction. Noboa, by contrast, seems adrift—focused only on defending his own wealth and that of his class.

In your work on Podemos and M5S, you stress how populism’s success depends on context. Does Noboa’s popularity, despite rising violence and economic decline, suggest that right-wing populism thrives better under structural crisis than left variants like Correísmo?

Guillermo Lasso, presidential candidate of the CREO-SUMA alliance, speaks at an election rally in Quito, Ecuador, on March 26, 2017. Photo: Pablo Hidalgo.

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini:  It must be noted that right-wing populism benefits from significantly more favorable media coverage. In most cases, powerful interests tend to be far more lenient—and even benevolent—toward right-wing populist actors. The kind of pressure they exert is markedly different from what left-wing variants face. In this sense, right-wing populism is often better equipped to withstand structural crises, constraints, and even blatant shortcomings than its left-wing counterparts.

Additionally, it’s important to consider that Noboa has only been in power for a relatively short time. Many people might think, “He’s only been in office for a year and a half—let’s give him some credit and see how he performs over the next few years.”

Another important point is that, despite Noboa’s poor performance during this period, anti-Correísmo remains a powerful political sentiment. Similar dynamics can be observed in other countries—for instance, strong anti-PT sentiment in Brazil or anti-Kirchnerismo in Argentina. These are not coherent political forces—they’re heterogeneous—but they are united in their strong opposition to former left-wing leaders, for a variety of reasons I won’t delve into here. However, once this broad demographic finds a figure who gains some popularity, they’re often willing to extend that figure a political blank check.

Until Noboa, the right wing in Ecuador was highly fragmented. First, there was Guillermo Lasso, who quickly squandered his initial popularity. In the previous election, multiple right-wing candidates competed for prominence. Now, a single figure has emerged. Interestingly, Noboa has undergone a shift. While he was always opposed to Correísmo, he wasn’t initially a staunch anti-Correísta and didn’t emphasize that stance heavily. Now, however, it has become a central theme of his rhetoric. He polarizes the country by framing the political landscape as a battle between good and evil. As he put it the day after the elections: on one side, the good forces; on the other, the evil ones—into which he groups criminal gangs, Correa, his allies, and his candidate, Luisa González. He draws a clear equivalence between them.

That rhetoric has been strongly supported by the media, which has—without any evidence—suggested that Correísmo is tied to drug trafficking and criminal networks. That’s classic populist rhetoric, and it’s paying off. So yes, I do think that, for the time being, even in the face of structural crises, Noboa can maintain high popularity. But let’s see what happens next.

Populists Govern Through Deals, Not Durable Coalitions

Do Noboa’s coalition maneuvers—including fleeting alliances with Correístas—represent pragmatic populist adaptation, or are they symptomatic of Ecuador’s deep political fragmentation?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: Populists need to ensure they can actually govern. Remember the example of Alexis Tsipras in Greece back in 2014. The circumstances forced him to form a parliamentary alliance with a right-wing party. Also, as I mentioned before, the initial period of Noboa’s time in power can’t really be considered fully populist. So I think it’s quite typical for populists—especially those without solid backing in parliament—to seek temporary alliances as a way to navigate governance.

Another, much riskier route is what Correa did back in 2007. He didn’t have a majority in parliament—actually, he had no presence at all, since he didn’t run any parliamentary candidates—yet he won the presidency. What he did was call for the election of a Constituent Assembly, which then overrode the National Assembly. In that way, the National Assembly was bypassed. It was a very risky gamble that could have backfired, but in the end, it worked and paved the way for his political rise. However, that’s not something all populist leaders can easily replicate—especially because organizing elections for a Constituent Assembly means you need to win an overwhelming majority.

Let’s see now what happens in parliament and whether Noboa will consider something similar. If he faces significant problems in the National Assembly, he might want to pursue a strategy like Correa’s. I’m just speculating here—there are no current rumors of that sort—but under Correa, the Constituent Assembly took over standard legislative tasks during its term, so that could well be an option.

And lastly, Professor Mazzolini, corruption scandals like Metástasis and Purga have revealed links between state actors and organized crime. How should we understand this intertwinement through the lens of populist governance and criminal co-governance?

Dr. Samuele Mazzolini: To be fair, I’m not so sure populism has much to do with this. If you look at the two scandals, the individuals involved included some politicians, but were mostly state officials—particularly within the judiciary and police—who colluded with organized crime. So I’m not convinced populism is central to this dynamic. It seems more closely tied to weak state institutions, which have historically been fragile and vulnerable to collusion with criminal groups.

Now, the situation is even more dire, as these criminal organizations have become significantly more threatening. Imagine a peripheral judge who is being bribed and simultaneously threatened with violence against himself and his family. If the state lacks the strength to provide protection, if it doesn’t offer stable career paths or a strong institutional culture for its officials, it becomes far more susceptible to this kind of corruption and infiltration.

So again, I wouldn’t necessarily bring populism into the picture here. Honestly, I don’t think it plays a significant role.