Professor Lester Spence.

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

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

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trumpism Retains Elements of the Previous Era 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The Tea Party Created the Conditions for Trump’s Rise

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

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

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

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

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

Corruption Is a Governing Principle for Trump

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

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

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

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

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

Race Is a Political Construction with Social Implications

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Racial Resentment Makes Whites More Likely to Support Trumpism 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Black Populism Has Greater Potential in Major Cities

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Democracy Goes as Black People Go

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

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

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

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

Black Voter Turnout, Political Alienation, and the 2026 Midterms

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We Have to Prioritize Transforming Elections and State Capacity

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Dr. Prerna Chahar

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

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

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

Timing, Scope and Significance of the Election

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

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

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

Reactions from Bolsonaro and Trump

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

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

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

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

BRICS, the G20 and South-South Cooperation

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

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

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

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

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


 

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

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan.

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

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

By Ibrahim Ozturk

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

Populism, Selective State Capacity, and Regime Reproduction

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

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

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

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

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

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

From Institutional Reform to the Erosion of Accountability

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

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

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

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

Discretionary Easing, Selective protection, and Costly Stabilization

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Valuation Feedback, Liquidity Risk, and Delayed Intervention

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Conclusion

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

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

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

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

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

Professor Jacob Mchangama.

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

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

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Democratic Institutions Must Punish Attacks on Democracy Without Criminalizing Political Expression

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

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

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

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

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

Unequal Content Moderation Does Not Necessarily Mean Political Discrimination

Social Media

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Younger Generations and Declining Support for Free Speech

Social Media
Photo: Sujin Surakoon / Dreamstime.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Illustration by Ulker Design.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

We Must Choose User Empowerment Over Preemptive Safetyism in AI

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Democracies Need Narrow, Targeted Rules Against Electoral Deception

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Europe Is Now Creating a Blueprint for Online Censorship

Photo: Andrey Popov.

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

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

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

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

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

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

This was catastrophic because Georgia is in a much worse position than Hungary under Orbán. You have an embattled opposition and pro-European democracy activists who are being suppressed and persecuted by a Putin-aligned government. That government can then use the case law of the European Court of Human Rights to go after its critics.

In fact, it has recently done so. A journalist was sentenced to 30 days in prison for insulting politicians online. Georgia has also created an Office Against Hate Speech, which is being used quite openly for political purposes to target critics of the current Georgian authoritarian government.

One of the only ways Georgians can still express dissent and organize protests is online, through social media and bottom-up mobilization. Yet those are precisely the mechanisms that Brussels is undermining. This demonstrates the unintended consequences of this model of online militant democracy.

US’s Retreat from Defending Dissidents Will Play into the Hands of Russia and China

In “The Voice of America Falls Silent,” you warn that America’s retreat from supporting independent media and dissidents abroad could strengthen authoritarian information control. As Russia and China promote increasingly sophisticated surveillance and censorship systems, who can defend global free speech if both Washington and Brussels compromise their commitments?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: That’s a good question. It’s really sad to see the United States retreating from defending dissidents and free speech globally. J.D. Vance went to Munich and criticized Europe, but then the administration pulled funding for embattled dissidents in authoritarian states who have long been able to do their work thanks to funding from Washington.

It’s ironic that this is happening under a Republican administration, given that the National Endowment for Democracy (NED), for instance, was established by Ronald Reagan, who had a very clear vision of the importance of strengthening and defending democracy around the world.

This is really sad. It will contribute to further eroding the soft power of the United States and the ideals that the country has championed around the world, however imperfectly. It will also definitely play into the hands of Russia, China, and other actors working hard to undermine international norms of human rights and free expression.

Unfortunately, the European Union is not in a good position to fill the void. This is partly because Europe no longer has the same geopolitical clout it once had, but also because it increasingly restricts free speech at home, which undermines its credibility.

It’s difficult to tell other countries that they cannot use laws against disinformation when the European Union itself does so. Even if you view Russian disinformation as a threat, that approach undermines credibility.

So, the responsibility now largely falls to civil society. One of the good things about the digital era is that, with AI, we can create tools that empower dissidents around the world. But at this moment, it’s really up to civil society to strengthen broad institutions that will fight for liberal democracies, including a robust, principled conception of free speech everywhere, and to try to fill the gap as best we can until the free-speech recession has been reversed.

You Are Not Going to Strengthen Democracy by Hiding Uncomfortable Realities

AI, artificial intelligence, and the concept of fake news, misinformation, and disinformation: A man uses his smartphone displaying the red text “Fake News,” surrounded by related keywords. Photo: Dreamstime.

Finally, Professor Mchangama, your book Free Speech: A History from Socrates to Social Media demonstrates how freedom of expression has repeatedly empowered marginalized groups against political authority. In today’s world of authoritarian populism, AI-driven manipulation, concentrated technological power, and selective free-speech advocacy, what principles should guide a genuinely democratic and resilient public sphere?

Professor Jacob Mchangama: We should view free speech and access to information as meta-principles that are essential to liberal democracies. I’m very inspired by the example of embattled minorities, which you mentioned. Perhaps the most underrated, yet one of the most important, champions of free speech was Frederick Douglass, an American orator and abolitionist who was born into slavery but dedicated his career to the fight for human equality.

It’s really incredible to read his speeches and articles spanning four decades because the central thread running throughout his work was the importance of free speech. He was so dedicated to free speech that, during the American Civil War, which was fought over slavery, he defended the right of people to speak out in favor of the Confederacy—in other words, the treasonous rebels who had seceded from the United States to preserve slavery.

He was very clear that the right to free speech is particularly precious to the oppressed. He also said something very profound: restricting free speech is a double wrong because it violates the rights of both the speaker and the listener.

That’s particularly important in our digital age. When you restrict free speech on social media, you don’t just restrict the rights of a particular speaker; you also restrict the broader public’s right to hear ideas that might be uncomfortable, wrong, or constitute disinformation, but that ultimately reflect a reality, however uncomfortable it may be: there are voices out there that don’t share your values and may want something very different.

You’re not going to strengthen democracy by hiding that reality.

Professor Yaniv Roznai.

Prof. Roznai: Israel Would Not Survive Another Coalition Like Netanyahu’s

As Israel approaches the October 27 elections, constitutional scholar Professor Yaniv Roznai warns that another Netanyahu-led coalition could threaten the country’s liberal-democratic future. In an in-depth interview with the ECPS, he declares: “I genuinely fear that Israel, as a country seeking to endure for generations to come, would not survive another coalition like this.” Examining democratic backsliding, judicial independence, political polarization, and the growing influence of religious nationalism, Professor Roznai also cautions that Netanyahu’s defeat would mark only the beginning of democratic restoration. Drawing comparisons with Poland and Hungary, he argues that Israel’s fragmented opposition would face formidable coalition challenges. Meaningful democratic renewal, he maintains, requires constitutional safeguards, stronger institutional checks and balances, and democratic education.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As Israel approaches the October 27 elections, its democracy faces profound challenges stemming from Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s populist leadership, the growing influence of the religious-nationalist far right, the controversial judicial overhaul, and the devastating consequences of October 7 and the war in Gaza. Together, these developments raise fundamental questions about democratic backsliding, constitutional resilience, and whether electoral change can reverse the institutional and societal transformations of recent years.

In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Yaniv Roznai, Professor of Constitutional Law and Co-Director of the Rubinstein Center for Constitutional Challenges at Reichman University and Laurance S. Rockefeller Visiting Professor for Distinguished Teaching at Princeton University’s University Center for Human Values, offers a deeply concerned assessment of Israel’s democratic trajectory. A leading scholar of constitutionalism, populism, and democratic erosion, Professor Roznai warns that another Netanyahu-led coalition could have existential consequences for Israel’s liberal-democratic future.

Reflecting on the possibility of Netanyahu remaining in power, Professor Roznai states: “I genuinely fear that Israel, as a country seeking to endure for generations to come, would not survive another coalition like this.” His warning extends beyond institutional deterioration to the potential departure of Israel’s educated and liberal population. “I’m afraid that if another Netanyahu coalition comes to power, hundreds of thousands of people will leave Israel in the coming years,” he observes, pointing to the already significant emigration of academics, doctors, and other professionals.

Professor Roznai situates these concerns within a broader analysis of populist constitutionalism. Although Israel has not yet crossed the threshold into electoral authoritarianism, he argues that its democratic institutions remain vulnerable to executive encroachment. As he explains, “The more polarized a society becomes, the weaker the commitment to democratic values within a leader’s political base.” He identifies the judiciary, independent legal authorities, and civil society as essential safeguards against the concentration of political power.

Drawing on comparative experiences, Professor Roznai argues that a post-Netanyahu Israel would resemble Poland more than Hungary, primarily because of the fragmentation of its opposition and the complexities of coalition formation. Unlike Hungary, where Péter Magyar emerged as a dominant opposition leader, Israel’s alternative political camp encompasses ideologically diverse parties from the left, center, and right, alongside Arab parties. Even if Netanyahu loses, Professor Roznai cautions, the resulting government would struggle to pursue a unified agenda of democratic restoration. “From a comparative perspective, this would resemble Poland more than Hungary,” he observes, emphasizing that Israel would not have “a single leader winning the elections and exercising overwhelming control over the coalition.” Such fragmentation could complicate efforts to reverse institutional abuses and strengthen democratic safeguards.

Professor Roznai also cautions against assuming that Netanyahu’s electoral defeat would automatically restore democratic governance. “That will not be the end of the story. It will only be the beginning,” he emphasizes. Meaningful restoration, in his assessment, would require completing Israel’s Bill of Rights, strengthening constitutional safeguards, protecting judicial independence, and rebuilding democratic literacy through education.

Ultimately, his assessment presents the coming elections not simply as a contest over political leadership but as a critical juncture in the struggle over Israel’s constitutional identity, democratic institutions, and long-term national future.

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

Netanyahu Has Used Polarization to Weaken Commitment to Democratic Values

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

Professor Roznai, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with your recent research on Israel’s democratic crisis. In your study with Noam Gidron, “Israel – Populism, Polarization and the Crisis of Democracy,” you identify the interaction between populist leadership, affective polarization, and institutional vulnerability as a major driver of democratic backsliding. How has Netanyahu exploited these dynamics, and has Israel crossed the threshold from democratic erosion toward competitive authoritarianism?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: Thank you for this question. The relationship between populism and polarization has been particularly interesting in the Israeli case. Since the early days of the current government, in late 2022 and early 2023, we have seen attempts to undermine various mechanisms of checks and balances. The main target has been the judiciary, but the government has also sought to weaken independent media, institutional gatekeepers such as the Attorney General and the Ombudsman for the Judiciary, civil society organizations, and others.

Of course, the gravest attack has been on the courts, through attempts to limit judicial review and capture the judiciary. Some of these attempts have failed because of the truly outstanding protest movement that emerged in 2023, when hundreds of thousands of people took to the streets against the judicial overhaul and Netanyahu.

What is particularly interesting, however, is how Netanyahu has used polarization. Various surveys conducted in 2023 asked Likud voters whether they supported the proposed constitutional reforms concerning the judiciary. About one-third said they did not support them. Let’s put them aside.

The remaining two-thirds supported the reforms. When asked why they supported these changes to the judiciary—whether because they regarded judges as detached elites or believed democracy was simply about the will of the majority—the strongest predictor of support was how much they loved Netanyahu and how much they hated the opposition. In other words, it was about love and hate. It was about affective polarization.

This analysis worries me greatly because it creates an incentive for populist leaders who want to introduce reforms harmful to democracy and capture the judiciary to deepen polarization. The more polarized a society becomes, the weaker the commitment to democratic values within a leader’s political base.

This is precisely the dynamic we have seen in Israel. On the one hand, Netanyahu has attempted to advance major reforms that would undermine democracy. On the other, he has sought to deepen polarization so that his political base would not punish him for those reforms. This is the mutual symbiosis between populism and polarization that we have observed in Israel.

Now, I do not think Israel has yet crossed the threshold into electoral authoritarianism. We are not there yet, particularly because Netanyahu has failed to implement the vast majority of his program. He has failed to capture the judiciary and to remove the independent Attorney General. We still have relatively independent media and a very strong civil society.

We can discuss this further later, but we have seen how civil society has organized to ensure that the coming elections remain competitive. Netanyahu has certainly managed to enact various problematic laws and undermine civil society in significant ways. I believe we are clearly experiencing democratic erosion, or democratic backsliding.

However, we have not yet crossed that threshold. If Netanyahu is elected again and the same coalition remains in power, it will be a different ballgame. Then, it will be game over for Israel’s liberal democratic project. That is why I very much hope the coming elections will bring about major change.

Personalized Loyalty to Netanyahu Threatens Democratic Rotation of Power

Your research suggests that emotional attachment to Netanyahu and hostility toward his opponents predict support for the judicial overhaul more strongly than ideological commitments. Does this indicate that Netanyahuism has become a form of personalized authoritarian populism in which loyalty to the leader supersedes constitutional principles?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: The answer to that question is certainly yes. It’s quite remarkable. You see this in various street surveys in which voters are asked, “Who are you going to vote for?” And they respond, “Oh, I will vote for Netanyahu.”

When asked, “But wait, he has proposed reforms that could undermine your rights. He hasn’t really won the war in Gaza. Hamas is still standing. We know the situation with thousands of soldiers serving in the reserves, while he is allowing the ultra-Orthodox not to serve in the military. How can you still support him?” people simply respond, “I support Netanyahu because that’s what I do. I just support Netanyahu. No one else can replace him.”

Even when you discuss specific policies, it doesn’t matter. Real-world facts make no difference. Democratic or constitutional values make no difference. It’s entirely personal: “We want Netanyahu. He is all we know. My parents voted for Netanyahu, and I will vote for Netanyahu. No one else can replace him.”

This is deeply frustrating in a democracy because it raises a fundamental question: How are we supposed to convince one another and maintain some form of democratic rotation of power if, regardless of what happens, one side of the political spectrum continues to vote for the same person simply because of who he is?

Israel’s Coalition Has Sought to Create a ‘Frankenstate’

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

In “Populist Constitutionalism and the Judicial Overhaul in Israel,” written with Amichai Cohen, you argue that Israel’s institutional architecture makes it particularly vulnerable to populist capture. How have the absence of a rigid constitution, unicameralism, and concentrated executive power facilitated Netanyahu’s attempts to weaken democratic checks and balances?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: That’s a good question. To answer it, I’ll start with how Netanyahu has been abusing comparative constitutional law. The main pillars of the judicial overhaul were to change the composition of the Judicial Selection Committee so that the coalition would control the appointment of all judges; limit the courts’ authority to review laws; enact an override clause that would allow a majority of members of parliament to override various decisions of the Court; change the status and independence of legal advisors in government; and weaken administrative judicial review by abolishing the reasonableness doctrine, which is central to Israeli administrative law.

I emphasize this because one of the key arguments Netanyahu and his coalition members used to justify these reforms was comparative law. Netanyahu repeatedly says, “But look, in the United States, politicians select the judges. Is the US not a democracy? In Canada, there is an override clause. We simply want to enact a similar override clause. What, Canada is not a democracy? In the UK, the courts cannot strike down laws. What, the UK is not a democracy?”

Essentially, the coalition has been doing what Kim Lane Scheppele calls the “Frankenstate.” Through what Rosalind Dixon and David Landau describe as “abusive borrowing,” elements are borrowed from different countries and combined to create a monster state rather than a functioning liberal democracy.

This brings me to the question of checks and balances. It is true that Canada has an override clause, that politicians in the US select Supreme Court justices, and that the Attorney General in the UK does not have the same authority as in Israel. 

However, when you compare democracies around the world, you find various mechanisms of checks and balances designed to ensure that political power is not concentrated in a single body. These may include a presidential system with veto powers, a federal system with a vertical separation of powers between the central government and the states, or a bicameral legislature with upper and lower houses elected differently. In Europe, there are also supranational institutions.

Israel has none of these mechanisms of political checks and balances. We have a unicameral Knesset controlled by the government. Essentially, five or six politicians who lead the coalition can impose their will through coalition discipline. 

There is also no rigid constitution. In a single day, the Knesset can enact or abolish a Basic Law by a simple majority. For example, Basic Law: Human Dignity or Basic Law: The Judiciary could be abolished in a single day by an ordinary majority, even by a vote of two to one.

Because of this weak system of checks and balances, we must be very cautious when making comparative arguments. Given the weakness of Israel’s political checks and balances, the only real constraints on political power are the judiciary and the Attorney General. That is precisely why these institutions are relatively strong in Israel. If you weaken them, you risk creating an unlimited government with absolute powers. That was the fundamental danger of the judicial overhaul.

Netanyahu’s Judicial Overhaul Was Designed to Give His Government Absolute Power

Your work distinguishes legitimate constitutional reform from abusive constitutionalism. Looking at the Netanyahu government’s judicial overhaul since 2023, which measures most clearly reveal an effort to consolidate executive power rather than improve democratic governance?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: Yes, that is true. I’m the last person in Israel who would argue that the judicial system needs no reform, that the office of the Attorney General should remain untouched, or that no changes should be made to constitutional review mechanisms. I’m not saying that the system is perfect.

The problem is that Netanyahu’s reforms had nothing to do with the issues that actually needed correction. The purpose of his judicial overhaul was to provide his government with absolute power, without any mechanisms of checks and balances. That was the fundamental problem, and my concern was precisely the concentration of absolute power in the executive.

We’ll probably discuss this further later, but I believe various constitutional reforms are needed to improve the system. The judicial overhaul, however, was not about such improvements. It was entirely abusive because it would have undermined the rule of law, the separation of powers, and the very democratic identity of the state. It would also have severely undermined, if not completely destroyed, judicial independence. In that respect, it was fundamentally abusive, unfortunately.

As I mentioned earlier, Israel’s constitutional system is extremely flexible, making it remarkably easy to enact a Basic Law. To give you some numbers, Israel has undergone more constitutional changes in the past decade than the United States has experienced throughout its entire history. Since the enactment of our first Basic Law, we have had more than 140 constitutional changes.

Many of these changes have involved ad hoc, personalized amendments, sometimes even temporary ones, introduced for the benefit of incumbents, political convenience, or the government’s narrow political interests. Unfortunately, this is a deeply abusive practice.

Democratic Erosion Has Shifted from Major Constitutional Reforms to Incremental Institutional Changes

Israelis protest in Tel Aviv against Netanyahu’s Judicial Coup in Israel. Photo: Avivi Aharon.

In “From the Hungarian Blitz to the Polish Salami,” you describe how Israel’s judicial overhaul shifted from rapid institutional transformation to incremental democratic erosion. Has this strategy proved more effective under the cover of the Gaza war, particularly through changes to judicial appointments and the weakening of independent legal authorities?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: Yes, that is indeed the case. In early 2023, Netanyahu’s government, primarily through Minister of Justice Yariv Levin, announced a sweeping judicial reform on national television. This triggered a civil backlash and an unprecedented protest movement, with hundreds of thousands of citizens taking to the streets every week for 10 months to demonstrate against the judicial overhaul.

In mid-2023, these protests prompted Netanyahu to enter negotiations with the opposition under the auspices of the president. When those negotiations failed, the coalition changed its modus operandi. Instead of pursuing a single major package of constitutional reforms, it adopted what I call the “salami system”—introducing changes slice by slice.

The first slice came in July 2023 with the abolition of the reasonableness doctrine in administrative review. This amendment to Basic Law: The Judiciary was subsequently invalidated by the Supreme Court in early 2024. However, as the coalition itself indicated, this was merely the amuse-bouche, the first dish in a series of reforms that would follow.

Following October 7 and the war in Gaza, the coalition changed its approach entirely. Rather than pursuing major constitutional reforms, it shifted toward subconstitutional measures, including ordinary laws, regulations, secondary legislation, and, above all, administrative actions, particularly concerning appointments and civil society.

Let me briefly outline the various measures undertaken after October 7, although I can elaborate on each of them if you wish. The government refused to appoint a president of the Supreme Court according to the seniority rule and subsequently refused to recognize Justice Amit’s appointment as president. It does not recognize him as president of the Supreme Court and refuses to address him by that title. The government has also failed to fill four Supreme Court vacancies since October 2023, leaving only 11 justices instead of 15.

The coalition also unlawfully attempted to dismiss the Attorney General and enacted legislation undermining the authority of that office. In 2025, it changed the composition of the Judicial Selection Committee. For many months, the Minister of Justice refused to convene the committee until the Supreme Court compelled him to do so.

The government also changed the law governing the Ombudsman for the Judiciary and the procedure for appointing the Civil Service Commissioner. It introduced legislation to weaken the Israeli Bar Association. The police underwent extensive politicization, primarily through appointments.

In addition, the coalition enacted legislation undermining independent media and made various attempts to ban political parties.

So, what we have witnessed is a broad package of legislative and administrative measures rather than a few sweeping constitutional reforms. That is the fundamental difference.

The Supreme Court and Incremental Democratic Erosion

In your article “When the First Brick Falls of the Fortress of Democracy,” you argue that courts must resist even the earliest stages of authoritarian constitutional change. Has Israel’s Supreme Court adequately defended its institutional independence, or has incremental executive encroachment already weakened its capacity to protect democracy?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: This is a serious problem around the world, not just in Israel. We know that democratic erosion occurs incrementally, step by step. I often refer to what I call the “bald guy paradox.” Imagine a person with a full head of hair who removes one hair every day. We know that eventually this person will become bald, but when exactly can we say that he is bald? We cannot identify the precise day. Democratic erosion works in exactly the same way.

You weaken the courts a little, independent media a little, the opposition, the ombudsman, and civil society. But at what point does this gradual weakening transform a country from a democracy into an autocracy? It is very difficult to draw that line. That is precisely the problem.

Various constitutional doctrines, such as the unconstitutional constitutional amendment doctrine and eternity clauses, are ill-equipped to address this kind of incremental erosion. These doctrines tend to envision a single amendment that explicitly transforms a country into something other than a democracy.

Consider France in July 1940, when a single law granted Marshal Pétain both executive and legislative authority, effectively concentrating all powers in his hands. But this is no longer how democratic erosion typically occurs. We are unlikely to see such an explicit law. Instead, we see multiple laws that, slowly but surely, undermine and ultimately destroy democracy. Courts must therefore recognize this process in their jurisprudence.

They need to shift their judicial thinking away from examining only the individual amendment or law before them. Instead, they must adopt a more aggregated, cumulative approach that also considers the broader context.

This is what I argued in July 2023, when the Knesset enacted a Basic Law amendment undermining the reasonableness doctrine. I maintained that the Court should examine this amendment within its broader context. There were already various other laws awaiting enactment, but the crucial question was why the government was so determined to abolish the reasonableness doctrine.

The reason was that, without the reasonableness doctrine, the government could remove other institutional gatekeepers, most importantly the Attorney General. Once the Attorney General was removed, the government could interfere with elections and pursue other measures. This is why such amendments must be examined within their broader context.

Here, I must say that the Court refused to adopt the idea of aggregated judicial review. Nonetheless, it struck down the amendment concerning reasonableness. The Court concluded that, even when examined on its own, the amendment so seriously undermined the rule of law and the separation of powers that it had to be declared, for the first time in Israel’s history, an unconstitutional constitutional amendment.

So, notwithstanding the various attacks it has faced over the past four years, the Court has remained quite strong and has resisted these threats whenever it could.

Ben-Gvir, Smotrich, and the Rise of the Far Right

Itamar Ben Gvir, speaking in election conference at Ale Zahav in Samaria/Isreal on September 9, 2019. Photo: Barak Shacked.

The political empowerment of Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich has elevated religious ultranationalism within Israel’s governing institutions. Are these actors merely radical coalition partners, or do they represent a more fundamental project to replace liberal constitutionalism with an exclusionary, ethno-religious conception of sovereignty?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: That’s an extremely important and troubling question. If you had asked me five years ago, I would have said, “Look, Ben-Gvir is extremely radical. He’s a clown. He has no support.” In earlier election campaigns, Netanyahu himself refused even to be photographed with Ben-Gvir because he was regarded as such an extreme outlier.

Unfortunately, I don’t think that is the case anymore. After four years in power and the trauma of October 7, significant segments of Israeli society have moved further toward the extreme right.

I also want to emphasize the role of social media. Ben-Gvir has been remarkably clever in his use of social media, particularly in influencing young people and young voters. You can now go into schools and hear children shouting “Ben-Gvir” and expressing their support for him. He has been extremely effective on social media, which I find quite frightening.

I’m afraid that Ben-Gvir is gaining more and more supporters. What is particularly troubling is the damage he has done to the police, the fact that Netanyahu has not removed him from office, and the fact that the Court has allowed his appointment to stand rather than removing him. We should remember that this man, who serves as Minister of National Security, has a criminal conviction for assisting a terrorist organization.

To me, this is a complete disaster. Unfortunately, I expect his political support to grow in the coming elections. I can no longer dismiss him as some kind of clown—an extreme figure with no meaningful support. That situation has fundamentally changed over the past few years.

Religious Nationalism and the Coalition Against Judicial Independence

Religious Zionist parties, ultra-Orthodox movements, and Likud approach questions of Jewish identity, religious authority, military service, and territorial sovereignty differently. Despite these differences, have they formed a durable illiberal alliance against judicial independence and constitutional limitations on majority power?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: A useful way to analyze what has been happening in Israel over the past four years, particularly regarding the attacks on democracy, is to examine the different interests of the groups that formed the current coalition.

On the one hand, you have extreme groups led by figures such as Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich. These parties have been pushing for annexation and the deepening of the occupation of the occupied territories. That is one group.

Another powerful group is the ultra-Orthodox. Their primary concerns are twofold: first, securing exemptions from military service for their communities; and second, obtaining budgets for their population through discriminatory budget allocations.

The Supreme Court has been the only central institution that has so far blocked these initiatives—deepening the occupation, exemptions from military service, and discriminatory budget allocations. This explains why these two groups within the coalition have such a strong incentive to weaken or capture the Court, or to introduce an override clause that would allow the coalition to override its decisions.

There are two additional incentives. First, there are people within the coalition, such as Minister of Justice Yariv Levin, who are genuine ideologues. They are populists who believe that democracy is essentially the will of the majority. Their thinking is: “We have the majority. We won the elections. That means we represent the people, and we can do whatever we want because we have the authority of popular sovereignty.” These are genuine ideological convictions.

Then there is Netanyahu. We must remember that he has been undergoing a criminal trial for several years. Previously, Netanyahu had blocked meaningful attempts to undermine the judiciary. It is only since facing his own criminal trial that he has been willing to give the Minister of Justice a blank check to undermine the judiciary and the Attorney General. These developments are interconnected.

If the Attorney General is dismissed and Netanyahu can appoint whomever he wants to that position, the consequences could be significant. In Israel, the Attorney General also heads the prosecution. There is no separation between the offices of Attorney General and Chief Prosecutor; they are effectively the same position.

A newly appointed Attorney General could therefore stop Netanyahu’s criminal trial or at least negotiate a favorable deal for him. This is one of Netanyahu’s major incentives, and it illustrates how these interests are connected.

This provides a useful framework for understanding the situation. And absolutely, the ultra-Orthodox, through their ambition to expand the role of religion in public life and the public sphere, are also directly challenging the liberal and secular way of life. This is certainly a struggle over Israel’s constitutional identity.

The Gaza War Weakened Democratic Protests

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

In your analysis of the judicial overhaul after October 7, you argue that the security crisis facilitated rather than suspended the government’s populist constitutional project. How did the Hamas attacks and subsequent war weaken democratic resistance while enabling further concentration of executive power?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: That’s a very interesting question because, in the days following October 7, many people in Israel, myself included, believed the judicial overhaul was over. We were convinced that, given the grave security threats, the trauma of October 7, the challenges of the war, and the hundreds of thousands of people displaced from northern and southern Israel, the government would focus on what really mattered: security, the economy, the hostages, and the wounded. We assumed it would set aside its plans and ambitions concerning the judicial system.

But I was wrong. During the first few months of the war, we had a unity government, and during that period, the government indeed pursued only legislation related to the war, rather than other matters. However, soon after the unity government collapsed, the government resumed its attacks on democracy under the fog of war. Essentially, the coalition used the war as an excuse to continue its judicial overhaul.

First, we saw allegations that the judiciary and government lawyers were responsible for October 7. Instead of acknowledging responsibility, the government argued, “It’s because of the Court’s activism, because of Aharon Barak, and because of the legal advisors who tie the hands of the IDF that October 7 happened.”

We also saw allegations that the judiciary and government lawyers were assisting Hamas. Whenever the Supreme Court heard petitions concerning humanitarian aid to Gaza, for example, the government accused the Court of assisting Hamas and being “Nukhba lovers.”

We also need to consider the broader impact on the media and civil society. As I mentioned earlier, throughout 2023, we had major weekly protests against the judicial overhaul for 10 months. But during the war, people were much less willing to take to the streets to protest against the government.

Especially during wartime, we see what is known as the “rally-around-the-flag” effect. People tend to unite around the government rather than protest against it. Although demonstrations continued, they were nowhere near the scale of those before the war. Tens of thousands of people were serving in the military reserves, while others were preoccupied with the economy or the war itself.

Similarly, media and public attention shifted almost entirely toward the war, particularly the hostages. Even most of the protests focused on ending the war and bringing the hostages home rather than opposing the judicial overhaul.

There are two further points worth emphasizing. First, military reservists had played a crucial role in the protest movement. Many had declared that if the judicial overhaul were enacted, they would refuse to serve in the reserves under a dictatorship.

However, during the war, there was understandably enormous reluctance to use military service as a means of protest.

Second, we need to recognize that populism in Israel, unlike in Europe or the United States, is very much security-based. There is an excellent article by Yonatan Levy and Shai Agmon, Security-Based Populism, which shows how the Israeli government has employed friend-versus-enemy rhetoric primarily around questions of security rather than economic or cultural issues.

So, of course, security threats enabled the government to deepen its populist project.

Netanyahu Has Used the War to Strengthen His Political Power

The October 7 attacks exposed profound failures of Israel’s security establishment and political leadership. Yet Netanyahu remains electorally competitive. Has the politics of existential insecurity enabled him to transform accountability for these failures into renewed claims of national leadership and political legitimacy?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: It’s quite remarkable. First, we need to understand just how extraordinary the situation is. Netanyahu has refused to establish a national commission of inquiry into the failures that led to October 7. For three years, he has refused to establish such a commission, while managing to instill in his political base a lack of trust and confidence in the Supreme Court and in the very mechanism of a commission of inquiry.

Under Israeli law, the government usually decides whether to establish a commission of inquiry, while the President of the Supreme Court appoints its members. Netanyahu has repeatedly argued, “We have no trust in the judiciary. We have no trust in the President of the Court. We don’t recognize the President of the Court.” This, in turn, has generated distrust in the very mechanism of a commission of inquiry. I believe that undermining confidence in the President of the Court was part of his intention.

Why does he refuse to establish a commission of inquiry? Because he knows he bears responsibility for October 7. There were dozens of threats and warnings before the attacks, and he ignored them all. He continued providing millions of dollars to Hamas because he wanted to preserve the separation between Gaza and the Palestinian Authority.

Although he knows he bears responsibility, everyone else has paid some kind of price. Senior officials, including the heads of intelligence and the Shin Bet and the Minister of Security, have resigned from office. Netanyahu is the only one who has remained in power since October 7. He has also refused to call elections following the war. No one in Israel imagined that he would remain in power after the war.

Netanyahu has been using the war to strengthen and entrench his political power, primarily through two strategies.

First, he blames the “deep state.” His argument is essentially: “It was you—the military, the security services, the judges, and the protest movement. You deliberately failed to warn me. You didn’t wake me up on the morning of October 7 because you didn’t want me to respond to the threat. You wanted this to happen so that I would abandon the judicial overhaul and my government would fall.” In other words, he blames the deep state for October 7.

Second, he argues, “Look, even if there were failures before October 7, from October 8 onward, I was the one fighting. I fought against Syria, Iran, Lebanon, and Hamas. I was the only one who fought. Everyone else wanted to surrender or give up. I’m the only one who can continue fighting.”

It’s interesting how he makes this shift. Essentially, he claims, “From October 8 onward, I have been the best leader, and no one can replace me.” Unfortunately, many people in Israel still accept what he is telling them. And here, we need to say something about the media.

As I mentioned earlier, Israel still has free and independent media. However, Netanyahu also has what I would describe as his own propaganda channel, Channel 14. It is a propaganda channel par excellence, conveying Netanyahu’s messages almost exclusively. Unfortunately, for many people, this is the only news channel they watch. As a result, his messages and slogans continue to resonate throughout the public sphere.

Developments in the Occupied Territories Are Undermining Democracy Inside Israel

The controversial Israeli separation wall dividing Israel from the West Bank, often referred to as the segregation wall in Palestine. Photo: Giovanni De Caro.

Israel’s devastating military campaign in Gaza, accompanied by mass civilian casualties, displacement, and allegations of war crimes and genocide, raises profound questions about constitutional democracy. Can Israel meaningfully safeguard liberal-democratic principles domestically while maintaining a system of occupation and denying Palestinians political self-determination?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: This is a profoundly important issue in Israel because, for many years, many Israelis have tried to draw a distinction between what is happening in the occupied territories and what is taking place inside Israel, as if developments in the territories had nothing to do with Israel’s domestic affairs.

For decades, many Israelis maintained the illusion that Israel was a liberal democracy. They acknowledged that there were serious problems in the occupied territories but believed that, domestically, Israel remained a liberal democracy.

However, what we have witnessed since the war demonstrates how difficult it is to maintain this distinction. It is not a binary separation. Developments in the occupied territories are increasingly affecting what happens inside Israel. How can a country sustain its identity as a liberal democracy for decades while maintaining control over other territories through occupation?

I don’t think this situation is sustainable in the long term. It has profound implications for the very project of Israel as a liberal democracy. These issues are interconnected.

On the one hand, we have the negative consequences of the occupation, which undermine Israel’s project as a liberal democracy. On the other hand, as we discussed earlier, we have an increasingly influential religious element within Israeli society that is also growing demographically.

I don’t think a liberal democracy can be sustained indefinitely under these two pressures. So, I hope the next government will be able to bring about meaningful changes in both areas.

Higher Arab Voter Turnout Could Transform Jewish-Arab Political Cooperation

Your constitutional scholarship emphasizes the protection of fundamental rights against unchecked majoritarian power. How does the increasing political marginalization of Palestinian Arab citizens, alongside intensified settlement expansion in the West Bank, expose the tensions between Israel’s Jewish-national character and its democratic commitments?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: That’s a very interesting and challenging question, particularly because we’ve also witnessed changes within Israel’s Arab minority. About 22 percent of Israeli citizens are Arab Palestinians. They have suffered more than almost any other group under this government, apart from Palestinians in the occupied territories. I’m referring specifically to Arab citizens living within Israel. They have suffered particularly from violence within their communities. Under Ben-Gvir, we’ve seen large numbers of deaths and shooting incidents, with devastating consequences for the Arab population.

The reason I emphasize this is that, until now, the Arab population has shown relatively limited interest in participating in Israeli politics. Voter turnout among Arab citizens in Knesset elections has generally been quite low. Of course, there is another side to this. Until a few years ago, hardly anyone imagined that Arab parties could play a meaningful role in government or become part of a governing coalition. That changed in 2021 with the government of change, when, for the first time, an Arab party, Ra’am, a Muslim party, joined the coalition.

I emphasize this because we may see another change in the coming elections. According to surveys, given the grave situation facing the Arab population, turnout among Arab voters could increase substantially. I certainly hope so. Until recently, we were discussing turnout rates of around 50–55 percent. Now, surveys suggest turnout could reach 65 percent, which would represent a significant change. If that happens, it will be extremely important and send a powerful message.

It would strengthen the visibility of Arab politicians in the Knesset and perhaps encourage greater collaboration between Jewish and Arab parties. More importantly, for the first time, we have a senior Jewish politician, Yoav Segalovich, who previously served as Deputy Chief of Police and was a member of the major political party Yesh Atid. He has now moved to become the number two candidate in Ra’am, the Muslim Arab party, and is its candidate to replace Ben-Gvir as Minister of National Security.

If Ra’am supports the next government and Segalovich becomes Minister of National Security as a representative of that party, it would be an extraordinary example of Jewish-Arab collaboration. I very much hope the coming elections will also bring meaningful change in the relationship between Arab voters, the broader Arab population, and Jewish political parties.

I should also remind your audience that Israel, like Germany and Turkey, has a legal mechanism for banning political parties. Last month, the plenary of the Central Elections Committee voted to ban all Arab parties—parties representing more than 20 percent of the population. This was purely political propaganda because the coalition knew the decision would be overturned by the Court.

Indeed, the Supreme Court invalidated the decision. But this created a win-win situation for the coalition because it could then accuse the Court of supporting Arabs and terrorists, and so on. From the coalition’s perspective, it was a win-win situation. It was simply political propaganda. Nevertheless, this episode reveals the zeitgeist of the current Israeli coalition toward the Arab minority, which I find deeply saddening.

Netanyahu Could Refuse to Recognize Election Results if He Loses

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

In your June 2026 article “The Populist Coalition in Israel Is Stressed from Orbán’s Loss and Is Gaslighting,” you examine the implications of Viktor Orbán’s electoral defeat for Netanyahu’s coalition. What lessons does Hungary’s experience offer regarding the defeat of entrenched populist leaders, electoral integrity, and the prospects for democratic restoration in Israel?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: After Orbán lost the elections in Hungary, several members of the Israeli coalition, including Simcha Rothman, chair of the Constitution Committee and one of the leaders of the judicial overhaul, said, “You, Professor Yaniv Roznai, and the protesters were lying to us throughout 2023. You warned that we would become an autocratic government, like Poland or Hungary. But look, Poland held elections and experienced a rotation of power. Now Orbán has lost the elections in Hungary. So what kind of dictatorship have you been trying to convince us we were becoming?”

I tried to explain what had actually happened in Hungary. I also traveled there during the elections to observe and learn from the experience. My point was that Hungary was not an autocracy like North Korea, but its electoral system was neither genuinely competitive nor free and fair. I explained the various ways Orbán had manipulated the electoral system during his 16 years in power. Israel’s situation is different. Institutionally and structurally, Israel still has a competitive electoral system.

That is precisely why I am concerned that Netanyahu and his coalition, lacking substantial public support and certainly not enjoying majority support, will resort to various manipulations and tricks to undermine electoral integrity in the coming elections. We have already seen the creation of fake videos, including deepfakes, designed to influence voters. We know that personal data on voters is being collected in attempts to influence them.

We also know about plans involving intimidation at polling stations, including the possibility of gangs threatening voters, particularly in Arab cities and villages, to discourage Arab citizens from voting. So, there are various plans that concern us. But what I find remarkable about these elections, something we have not witnessed in previous elections, is that civil society has redirected the enormous energy of the 2023 protest movement toward protecting electoral integrity.

We now have tens of thousands of volunteers. To give you an idea of the scale, according to official figures from the Central Elections Committee, 270,000 people have applied to serve as polling station secretaries to ensure that voting is conducted according to the rules. That is an extraordinary number.

Similarly, in the nonprofit civil society organization I work with to ensure that the coming elections remain competitive, tens of thousands of people have expressed interest in volunteering as observers, either inside or outside polling stations, to prevent violence, intimidation, cheating, and other irregularities.

For the first time in Israel’s history, civil society has organized on such a scale to safeguard free and fair elections. This mobilization reflects our concern that Netanyahu may attempt various forms of electoral manipulation.

Over the past six months, we have also witnessed a campaign by Netanyahu and his coalition members to undermine public confidence in the Central Elections Committee and in the electoral process itself. For example, they have portrayed the chair of the Central Elections Committee, who is actually a religious conservative Supreme Court judge, as an extreme left-wing figure. They claim, “This extreme left-wing guy wants to steal the elections.” That is, of course, ridiculous.

But this is the campaign they have been conducting. It appears designed to prepare the ground for what might happen afterward, particularly if Netanyahu loses and refuses to recognize the results. We have seen what happened with Bolsonaro in Brazil and the events at the US Capitol involving Donald Trump. I am concerned that we could witness similar developments in Israel, with Netanyahu refusing to recognize the election results if he loses.

A Post-Netanyahu Government Would Resemble Poland More Than Hungary

Recent polling suggests a highly fragmented electoral landscape, with Gadi Eisenkot’s Yashar challenging Likud and opposition parties confronting difficult coalition arithmetic. Given Netanyahu’s resilience and the potential parliamentary importance of Arab parties, which post-election scenarios appear most plausible—and what risks do you foresee for electoral legitimacy and a peaceful transfer of power?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: This is an issue we are all struggling with. Although Netanyahu and Likud have been dramatically weakened since the previous elections, and certainly since October 7, Netanyahu’s bloc remains very homogeneous, united under a single leader: Netanyahu.

On the other hand, the opposition, despite leading in the polls, is highly fragmented. We have Gadi Eisenkot, Bennett, Lapid, the Democrats, Lieberman, and the Arab parties. These are different political forces, and they cannot agree on a single candidate. Anyone hoping that the next government will be a coalition of change, entirely different from the current coalition and capable of reversing all the problematic laws that have been enacted, shifting Israel toward liberal democracy, and strengthening judicial independence, will probably be disappointed.

Even if Netanyahu steps down and another coalition takes power, it will be a very diverse coalition rather than a homogeneous one, bringing together left-wing and right-wing parties. Advancing a common agenda under such circumstances would be extremely challenging.

From a comparative perspective, this would resemble Poland more than Hungary. We would not have a single leader winning the elections and exercising overwhelming control over the coalition. That simply would not be the case.

The situation would be especially challenging if Arab parties were part of the coalition, given the delegitimization of the Arab population by Netanyahu and his political allies. Maintaining a strong coalition that depends on the support of Arab parties would be particularly difficult.

So, I do not envision a scenario in which we could simply say, “That’s it. Like Péter Magyar in Hungary, we’ll win the elections, and then we can do whatever we want.” That is not how things would work.

One possible scenario is that Netanyahu loses and a new, highly complex coalition emerges, one that would have to navigate competing interests and political differences.

A second possibility is some form of national unity government, with or without Netanyahu. One scenario involves Netanyahu receiving a pardon from the president, which could restore his political legitimacy, at least to some extent. Currently, other parties refuse to cooperate with him because he is undergoing a criminal trial.

If he receives a presidential pardon, he would no longer be facing that trial, which would also allow him to serve as a minister. We could therefore imagine a mixed coalition in which Likud joins other Zionist parties to form a national unity government.

Another scenario is that no party or bloc succeeds in forming a government, leading to another cycle of elections. Remember that between 2019 and 2022, Israel held five rounds of elections. That was extraordinary.

Imagine continuing to hold elections while Netanyahu remains prime minister of successive caretaker governments. This is a scenario I very much hope we can avoid.

People understand that these are among the most consequential elections in Israel’s history. Thousands upon thousands of Israelis living abroad, myself included, are returning to Israel specifically to vote. I do not expect this level of mobilization to continue if we enter another prolonged cycle of elections. That is why I sincerely hope the election results will be decisive.

Post-Populist Populism and Democratic Restoration

In your work on post-populist populism, you warn that governments succeeding populist incumbents may reproduce their predecessors’ illiberal governing practices. If Netanyahu loses on October 27, what constitutional reforms would be essential to prevent a new government from perpetuating the institutional abuses it was elected to reverse?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: This is a challenge we see around the world. Professor Amichai Cohen and I wrote a blog post on post-populist populism, and we are now editing a special volume of Constitutional Studies on this topic, bringing together experts from around the world. Post-populism presents a fundamental rule-of-law challenge. On the one hand, you want to restore democracy. Let’s say a populist leader loses an election, and a post-populist government comes to power with the aim of restoring democracy.

But the judiciary has been captured by political judges appointed by the previous government. You have civil servants who are either controlled by or allied with the previous government. You also have media organizations that have been politicized and brought under its control. What do you do to dismantle these structures?

If you start dismissing civil servants and judges or attempting to capture the courts yourself, you risk falling into the trap of using exactly the same methods as the populists. You also expose yourself to accusations such as, “Aha, when we captured the courts, you called it populism, fascism, or dictatorship. But when you do the same thing, it’s acceptable because you’re the good guys. How do you explain that?”

This is the rule-of-law dilemma. The problem is that populism corrupts the entire political playing field, while the populist toolkit remains available. Resisting the temptation to use those tools is an enormous challenge. You want to use them, but for good purposes. This creates a dilemma that we are still not sure how to resolve.

Of course, much depends on how deeply the system has already been corrupted. In Hungary, after 16 years, the corruption is so deeply entrenched that correcting it will take years, and decisive action will be necessary. Looking at Poland and Hungary, one important lesson is that an incoming government has a very narrow window of opportunity during which it has the legitimacy to act quickly and decisively. If it fails to act within that window, it may lose the ability to act effectively.

For a new Israeli government, this means addressing the most pressing issues immediately. Take, for example, the 2025 amendment concerning the Judicial Selection Committee, which completely politicized the system. I believe one of the first things the new government must do is repeal that amendment and restore the status quo ante.

In terms of procedure and due process, there is an important distinction between introducing an entirely new reform and repealing an existing amendment to restore the previous situation. The latter can be accomplished much more quickly. So, I believe the new government must act rapidly on two priorities: establishing a commission of inquiry into October 7 and repealing the three or four principal judicial overhaul laws that were enacted. 

However, when it comes to pursuing more comprehensive reforms, the government must proceed much more carefully to secure the legitimacy required for such changes, especially if it lacks a substantial parliamentary majority. If it has only a narrow majority, I fear that undertaking sweeping reforms would be extremely risky. Nevertheless, it would need to entrench the essential constitutional safeguards to ensure that another judicial overhaul cannot be carried out in the near future.

Trump’s Endorsement Is Unlikely to Change Deeply Polarized Electoral Landscape

Israelis walk next an Israeli election billboard of Likud Party showing US President Donald Trump shaking hands with Likud chairman and Israeli Prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu in Beth Shemesh, Israel on September 8, 2019. Photo: Gil Cohen Magen.

What will be the impact of US President Donald Trump’s endorsement of Prime Minister Netanyahu in the Oct. 27 elections?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: Yes, we’ve seen Trump’s intervention in the Israeli elections through his endorsement of Netanyahu. Let me make a few observations. First, we also witnessed US intervention on behalf of Orbán in Hungary, and it did not help him. In fact, it may have made things worse for Orbán.

In Israel, I don’t think Trump’s endorsement will have the same negative effect because Trump is very popular among Israelis. However, I also don’t believe it will make a significant difference. Israeli society is so deeply polarized that voters rarely move between the pro-Netanyahu and anti-Netanyahu camps. Such shifts are particularly unlikely just a week before the elections. So, I don’t expect the endorsement to bring about any major change.

There is also an interesting possibility that I’ve heard discussed. According to a media report published today, Netanyahu wanted to launch an attack on Iran, but Trump prevented him from doing so. One possibility is that Trump’s public endorsement of Netanyahu’s candidacy was offered in exchange for Netanyahu refraining from attacking Iran. I don’t know whether that’s the case. It’s an assumption I’ve heard, and it sounds plausible to me. Nevertheless, I don’t think Trump’s endorsement will make a substantial difference.

Defeating Netanyahu Would Be Only the Beginning of Restoring Israeli Democracy

And lastly, Professor Roznai, looking beyond the elections, would Netanyahu’s defeat and the exclusion of the religious-nationalist far right constitute a genuine democratic turning point, or would meaningful restoration require a deeper constitutional settlement addressing judicial independence, minority rights, executive accountability, and Palestinian self-determination? Are Israel’s democratic institutions sufficiently resilient to withstand another Netanyahu government?

Professor Yaniv Roznai: That’s the million-dollar question. My analysis is that even if Netanyahu loses the elections and the alternative camp—what we call the camp of change or the camp of restoring democracy—wins, that will not be the end of the story. It will only be the beginning.

To truly restore democracy in Israel, we need to undertake various reforms, beginning at the institutional level. First, we must complete our Bill of Rights. Unlike other countries, Israel does not have a comprehensive Bill of Rights. For example, fundamental constitutional rights, such as equality, freedom of speech, and freedom of religion, are not formally enshrined in a Basic Law. We need to complete the Bill of Rights and introduce a Basic Law on legislation that would stabilize our constitutional system. Such a law should ensure that enacting or amending a Basic Law requires a supermajority, as is the case in other countries. Institutionally, we must also strengthen checks and balances and other independent institutional gatekeepers. These are essential reforms at the constitutional level.

But we also need to do much more in education. For many years, we have neglected education about democracy and democratic literacy. Regardless of how strong or independent the Court may be, or how rigid our Basic Laws become, democracy cannot survive without committed small-d democrats—citizens who understand the importance of liberal democracy and what it truly means. So, we have important work to do at both the constitutional and educational levels. We need to strengthen the understanding of liberal democracy within Israeli society.

My aspiration is to establish a unified stream of education. You need to understand that Israel currently has different educational streams: a religious stream, an Arab stream, and a more secular stream. What is remarkable is that large numbers of children in Israeli schools have little understanding of democracy or liberal democracy, while Arab children often have little understanding of what it means to live in a Jewish state. We need a unified educational framework that explains to students that they live in a state that is both Jewish and democratic, and how these two potentially conflicting values are supposed to coexist.

I believe it will take years to repair the damage that the current coalition has inflicted on Israel. And the only way to begin that process of correction and democratic restoration is to win the elections. That is the first step.

I’m afraid that if another Netanyahu coalition comes to power, hundreds of thousands of people will leave Israel in the coming years. That would be a disaster. Already, tens of thousands have left, many of them liberals, academics, and doctors. There was a cartoon in one of the Israeli newspapers depicting a flight attendant asking, “Is there a doctor on the plane?” And everyone on the plane was raising their hands. It’s funny, but at the same time, it isn’t funny because it’s not merely a joke; it reflects reality. I know many academics who have already left Israel, and I’m deeply concerned that many more will leave if another Netanyahu coalition takes power.

According to a recent survey published by News Channel 12, approximately a quarter of opposition voters said they would consider leaving the country if Netanyahu wins. That is an extraordinary number. So, I genuinely fear that Israel, as a country seeking to endure for generations to come, would not survive another coalition like this.

Professor Gideon Rahat.

Prof. Rahat: Netanyahu’s Departure Could Pave the Way for Democratic Renewal in Israel

In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Gideon Rahat of the Hebrew University of Jerusalem examines Israel’s democratic prospects ahead of the October 27 elections. He argues that Netanyahu’s departure could enable a redistribution of political power and a return to consensus-based democracy, while warning that deeply personalized parties and weakened institutional checks threaten democratic resilience. Highlighting Netanyahu’s role in legitimizing the religious-nationalist far right, Professor Rahat cautions: “But once you let this genie out of the bottle, which is what Netanyahu did, the genie is here to stay.” Despite these enduring challenges, he sees opportunities for democratic renewal through institutional reform, stronger political parties, and the restoration of checks and balances.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

As Israel approaches the October 27 elections, its political landscape remains deeply polarized by Benjamin Netanyahu’s leadership, the growing influence of the religious-nationalist far right, and the profound consequences of the October 7 attacks and the devastating war in Gaza. Beyond the immediate electoral contest, fundamental questions concern the resilience of democratic institutions, the personalization of political power, and whether a post-Netanyahu government could reverse Israel’s democratic backsliding.

In an extensive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Gideon Rahat, holder of the Gersten Family Chair in Political Science at the Hebrew University of Jerusalem and Senior Fellow at the Israel Democracy Institute, offers a nuanced assessment of these challenges. Drawing on his scholarship on political parties, populism, and democratic institutions, Professor Rahat argues that Netanyahu’s departure could create an opportunity for democratic renewal, although Israel’s deeply personalized party system presents formidable structural obstacles.

Central to his analysis is Netanyahu’s consolidation of political authority and his transformation of Likud. According to Professor Rahat, Netanyahu’s populism combines centralized personalism with an antagonistic division between the supposedly authentic people and institutional elites. Yet his removal could fundamentally alter these dynamics. As Professor Rahat explains, “Netanyahu did not allow anyone around him to grow politically.” Consequently, he argues, no obvious successor possesses the capacity to reproduce Netanyahu’s centralized political infrastructure. His departure could therefore allow political power to be redistributed, potentially facilitating a return to consensus-based democracy.

However, Professor Rahat simultaneously warns that Netanyahu has fundamentally transformed Israel’s political landscape by legitimizing previously marginal ultranationalist forces. Examining the rise of Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich, he emphasizes the decisive role of political elites in enabling radicalization. Referring to Netanyahu’s political elevation of Ben-Gvir, Professor Rahat observes: “But once you let this genie out of the bottle, which is what Netanyahu did, the genie is here to stay.” This normalization of the far right represents an enduring challenge that may survive Netanyahu’s eventual departure.

The interview also explores the weakening of judicial independence, the marginalization of Arab political parties, and the enduring trauma of October 7. Professor Rahat emphasizes that the erosion of institutional safeguards cannot be reversed through leadership change alone, warning that “a court cannot sustain democracy by itself.” Democratic reconstruction, he argues, requires stronger political parties, institutional reforms, and a broader distribution of political authority.

Moreover, Professor Rahat’s analysis distinguishes between the possibility of ending Netanyahu’s personalized rule and the more demanding task of rebuilding Israeli democracy. His cautiously hopeful conclusion underscores the importance of institutional transformation beyond electoral alternation: “Hopefully, this would allow Israel to return to a more consensus-based form of democracy.”

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

Political Personalization Extends Beyond Netanyahu to the Opposition

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

Professor Rahat, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with your research on Likud’s personalization under Netanyahu. In your research with Ofer Kenig, you argue that Likud has transformed from an institutionalized leader party into a personal party under Netanyahu. Has this transformation reached the point where Likud’s political identity, organizational survival, and ideological direction have become inseparable from Netanyahu himself? What would remain of Netanyahuism without Netanyahu?

Professor Gideon Rahat: The party might collapse after Netanyahu, but you have to remember that most of the other relevant parties in Israel are also personal. This means that Likud might survive because it still has a brand name and a platform that could remain after Netanyahu. If Likud and Netanyahu were competing against an institutionalized party, Likud might have collapsed. But there are no such alternatives these days. Israeli politics is very personal—not only when it comes to Netanyahu, but also to the opposition to Netanyahu.

Netanyahu Embraced Populism Amid His Legal Troubles

Your recent research with Tristan Klingelhöfer links centralized party personalism to illiberalism and majoritarian conceptions of democracy. To what extent does Netanyahuism exemplify this relationship? Is Israel experiencing a populist challenge to liberal democracy or a more profound transformation toward personalized authoritarian governance?

Professor Gideon Rahat: No, populism in Israel is clear. I must say that until around 2015, Netanyahu was actually blocking populism in Israeli politics. There were many initiatives that he himself blocked. In 2015, this started to change. In 2019, once he began having problems in court over allegations of corruption, he really changed course and became a populist in a very clear and simple sense: There is me, the person who represents the genuine people, and there are these corrupt elites—the courts, the prosecutors, the media, academia, and everybody else, the usual suspects of any populist regime.

So, it is clearly populism. Of course, in Israel, it is blended with centralized personalism. Netanyahu is at the center; he is the symbol of this populist side. His populism is clear, but he is also allied with other populists, such as Viktor Orbán. He was aligned with Bolsonaro and, of course, with Donald Trump.

Religiosity Matters More Than Ethnicity in Netanyahu’s Support

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

Likud’s historical populism drew heavily on the resentment of marginalized Mizrahi constituencies toward Ashkenazi political elites. Has Netanyahu successfully transformed these historical grievances into a durable anti-establishment identity, even after decades of Likud dominance? How much of his continuing appeal rests on identity rather than political performance?

Professor Gideon Rahat: It’s clear that Netanyahu and Likud receive more support from Mizrahi Jews than from Ashkenazi Jews, who came from Europe and the West. But I must say that the most important factor is not ethnic background but religiosity. Netanyahu’s supporters tend to be more religious, while Mizrahi Jews tend to be more traditional. They generally occupy a middle ground, whereas Ashkenazi Jews may be either very secular or very religious, like the ultra-Orthodox. Many Mizrahi Jews fall somewhere in between. They are not fully religious, but they are clearly not secular, and Netanyahu enjoys considerable support among them.

However, studies show that the growing Mizrahi middle class, which has emerged through economic and social mobility, tends to be more supportive of the opposition. More educated Mizrahi Jews, particularly those with higher incomes, are more likely to support the opposition than those who are more traditional, poorer, and more dependent on patron-client relationships.

Extreme Personalization Threatens Even Likud’s Survival

In your 2026 article Is the Party Perspective Over?, you defend the continued analytical centrality of political parties despite increasing personalization. Does Israel’s 2026 election reinforce that argument, or has competition increasingly become a contest between political personalities rather than coherent ideological and organizational alternatives?

Professor Gideon Rahat: If the entire democratic world looked like Israel, I wouldn’t defend the parties. Israel is an extreme case of political personalization. The only comparable case in the democratic world might be Italy. If Israel were the typical case rather than the exception, I wouldn’t argue that parties remain so relevant to politics. But parties are still relevant in most countries, as even very simple examples demonstrate.

Take Austria, for example. Sebastian Kurz was a very strong, highly personalized leader who took over his party. Once he was found to be corrupt, he was gone. In Japan, prime ministers change frequently because of corruption allegations. The party stays, while the leader goes. This is not, of course, the case in Israel. Elsewhere, parties survive their leaders, which demonstrates that they are institutionalized and not dependent on a specific individual. Even some personal parties become less personalized, or perhaps evolve into leader parties, where the leader remains very strong, but the party survives after their departure. The parties associated with the Le Pens in France are an example.

Israel, however, remains an extreme case where political parties come and go. Just two days ago, Benny Gantz, who led one of Israel’s strongest parties four years ago, had to leave because he found that he no longer had sufficient support to pass the electoral threshold. He had only 1% support, while he needed 3.25%. So, it’s about him, not about a political party.

His party, which was highly personalized, will probably disappear into history with him. If you look at Israeli politics, parties are constantly changing, with new parties emerging around specific leaders. Once those leaders leave, their parties disappear. Likud, of course, is a brand name that might survive Netanyahu. But as I said, it would survive because the other parties do not offer comparable alternatives in terms of brand names, not because Likud itself is not a personal party.

Netanyahu Let the Far-Right Genie Out of the Bottle and It Is Here to Stay

Itamar Ben Gvir, speaking in election conference at Ale Zahav in Samaria/Isreal on September 9, 2019. Photo: Barak Shacked.

The political normalization of Itamar Ben-Gvir and Bezalel Smotrich has brought previously marginal ultranationalist currents into the center of government. Has their participation fundamentally radicalized Israeli politics, or does their growing influence reflect a broader ideological shift already underway within Israeli society?

Professor Gideon Rahat: Both are true. First, there has been radicalization in Israel, especially since October 7. October 7 was a traumatic event. Israelis see themselves as having been exposed to this kind of massacre, and this has produced another shift to the right. The first major shift to the right, the first political earthquake, came in 2001, during the Second Intifada, when suicide bombers attacked buses and about 1,000 Israelis were killed. This time, another thousand Israelis were killed in a single day. They could not defend themselves, and this has moved people further to the right.

However, at the end of the day, political elites are more important. If Netanyahu had not allowed Ben-Gvir to enter politics as he did, I’m not sure Ben-Gvir would have become so strong. But Netanyahu did allow him. Ben-Gvir had, if I remember correctly, around 60,000 votes, which was not enough to pass the electoral threshold, and Netanyahu brought him into the Religious Zionism Party. Now Ben-Gvir himself is very strong. So, I think much depends on how political elites shape the political landscape.

This doesn’t mean that people are not extreme, racist, right-wing, or whatever. They are. But elites often have the ability to moderate these forces. People may accept that, even if they are more extreme than their politicians, their leaders must maintain foreign relations and deal with others. They understand that. But once you let this genie out of the bottle, which is what Netanyahu did, the genie is here to stay.

And Ben-Gvir is here to stay, not because he has been particularly successful. He is the Minister of National Security, and if you look at the number of crimes and killings, nothing particularly good is happening. But he doesn’t need success. His rhetoric alone is enough to attract considerable support.

Smotrich, who is supposed to be somewhat less extreme, actually comes from the more extreme wing of religious nationalism, from a historical perspective. He is more extreme in terms of religion, as well as foreign affairs and security.

So, the national religious movement is moving toward the extremes, and this represents a historical transformation. Once upon a time, the national religious movement in Israel was moderate. It was actually part of what was called a historical alliance with the Labor Party. But after 1967, when Israel took control of the territories, the movement gradually changed course. Today, it occupies the most extreme position in the Israeli political system.

Military Service Divides Religious Nationalists and Ultra-Orthodox Jews

How should we analytically distinguish the religious-nationalist radicalism of Otzma Yehudit and Religious Zionism from the political objectives of ultra-Orthodox parties such as Shas and United Torah Judaism? Are these movements converging around an illiberal conception of the Jewish state, or do their competing interests limit the coherence of the religious right?

Professor Gideon Rahat: The ultra-Orthodox are different. If you look at public opinion in both communities regarding foreign affairs and xenophobia, their views are almost the same. But the main goal of the ultra-Orthodox elite is to isolate their community from the rest of society. They don’t want its members to modernize or move beyond the boundaries of the ultra-Orthodox community.

This creates an important distinction. While the national religious are the avant-garde, seeking to lead the State of Israel toward their goals, the ultra-Orthodox are primarily concerned with their own community.

This difference is particularly evident in attitudes toward military service. The national religious serve in the military and regard it as something very important, even as a form of serving God. The ultra-Orthodox, by contrast, do not want to serve in the military. They claim this is because they spend their days studying the Torah.

The real reason, however, is their fear that military service would expose members of their community to modernism. They would encounter women who do not dress as women do within their own community. In other words, the ultra-Orthodox leadership does not want them to be exposed to the outside world and therefore opposes their military service.

So, military service represents the main cleavage, the central dividing line between the national religious and the ultra-Orthodox.

Netanyahu’s Coalition Vows to Continue Judicial Overhaul if Reelected

Israelis protest against Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu’s anti-democratic move targeting judiciary in Tel Aviv on March 11, 2023. Photo: Avivi Aharon.

Israel’s judicial overhaul controversy exposed competing understandings of democratic legitimacy: majoritarian sovereignty versus institutional checks and minority protections. Following the October 7 attacks and the Gaza war, has the struggle over judicial independence become secondary to national security, or does it remain the defining conflict over Israel’s democratic future?

Professor Gideon Rahat: It remains a defining conflict because Netanyahu and his coalition want to continue with it, while the opposition remains against it. So, this is a very important issue. What Netanyahu is trying to do, of course, is to reduce the checks and balances on the executive, as other leaders are doing around the world. He is doing this by weakening the courts and confronting the media, academia, and civil society. This is an ongoing process, and members of his coalition are saying that if they win the elections, they will continue with it.

You have to remember that in the previous elections, this judicial coup was not on the agenda. Now, everybody knows about it, and Netanyahu and his coalition are openly saying that they intend to continue with it. This has become a very important part of their agenda.

Israel’s Political Parties No Longer Provide Essential Checks and Balances

Your scholarship demonstrates how personal parties can undermine institutional accountability. To what extent has Netanyahu’s control over Likud facilitated the weakening of democratic checks and balances? Could an electoral defeat reverse these developments, or has democratic backsliding become structurally embedded beyond Netanyahu’s leadership?

Professor Gideon Rahat: On the one hand, Netanyahu has really driven populism, personalism, and the centralization of power. But let’s imagine that he’s no longer there. We still have to remember that political parties in Israel are highly personalized. When parties become highly personalized, they no longer serve as checks and balances; they simply serve their leaders.

This is a problem for democracy, particularly in a system where there are already very few checks and balances. We don’t have federalism or two houses of Congress. We have a highly centralized electoral system with a single nationwide electoral district and very weak legislators. So, when you look at Israel, you see that there are hardly any checks and balances, whereas political parties once played precisely that role.

Returning to a more democratic course would not be easy. Changes would be necessary. But without Netanyahu, I don’t think any single leader would centralize the system to the same extent.

There is also reason for hope. Look at the new Hungarian leader who came to power. He could have become Orbán II, taking all the powers Orbán had accumulated and using them for himself. But instead, he is giving up those powers. So, we can always hope that Israel’s next leader will be generous enough to distribute political power more broadly, allowing checks and balances to be reestablished.

However, political parties in Israel are really in very bad shape. They need to be reconstructed, but you cannot base your entire reform program on political parties alone. You need to consider new reforms, such as giving more power to local governments, perhaps introducing some form of regional government, and developing other creative ideas to ensure that we do not remain in the current situation, with a very strong executive and a relatively strong and courageous court. But a court cannot sustain democracy by itself.

Populism Helps Netanyahu Evade Accountability for October 7

Morning bombing attack on Gaza near the Al-Saraya buildings. Photo: Ahmed Fraije.

The Hamas-led October 7, 2023, attacks represented an extraordinary failure of Israel’s security establishment. Yet Netanyahu retains a substantial electoral constituency. How do you explain his political resilience despite this failure? Has the resulting insecurity strengthened populist leadership identification rather than weakened it?

Professor Gideon Rahat: It plays into the hands of populism because, according to this narrative, Netanyahu is not to blame. Instead, the blame falls on the deep state—the military leadership, the intelligence services, and all these supposedly horrible forces. Netanyahu, meanwhile, presents himself as the representative of the genuine people, someone who is not to blame.

This is precisely how populism works. It allows leaders to escape blame for failures for which they bear responsibility. Even if we imagine that Netanyahu is not personally to blame, he is still the prime minister and therefore bears responsibility. Yet populism enables leaders to claim credit for what they regard as successes while shifting the blame for their failures onto others.

October 7 Trauma Reinforces Israel’s Zero-Sum View of Palestine

Israel’s military campaign in Gaza, involving mass Palestinian civilian casualties, extensive destruction, and accusations of war crimes and genocide, has profoundly damaged its international standing. To what extent have these developments altered Israeli electoral preferences, or has a broad national-security consensus insulated domestic politics from international criticism?

Professor Gideon Rahat: Unfortunately, most Israelis do not see it this way. They regard Israel’s military campaign as a logical consequence of what happened on October 7. They believe that the Palestinians attacked first, that the attacks were particularly cruel, and that Israel’s response was retaliation. This is how they understand the situation. They also do not perceive international criticism in the same way as much of the rest of the world does.

Some international criticism makes more sense than others. For example, when Israelis see demonstrations calling for a Palestinian state “from the river to the sea,” they interpret this as a demand for Israel to disappear. This reinforces the perception of the conflict as a zero-sum game, leaving little room for empathy or sympathy toward the other side.

Even the two-state solution, despite some support for it within Israel, is perceived by many Israelis as a threat to their survival. Israel is still experiencing profound trauma from October 7. For Israelis, this was the most horrific event to happen to Jews since the Second World War.

When you look at the situation from the outside, you might say that around a thousand Israelis were killed, compared with 60,000 or 70,000 Palestinians. Comparing these numbers, you may naturally feel greater sympathy for the Palestinians. But that is not how Israelis see it. Their argument is that there could have been 60,000 Israeli casualties as well if Israel had not responded.

This illustrates the fundamental problem with viewing the Israeli-Palestinian conflict as a zero-sum game, in which it is either us or them. If anyone wants to begin addressing the conflict, they must give Israelis the feeling that they can have security even if a Palestinian state is established. Without that sense of security, any solution is a nonstarter.

You also have to remember that this is not the first time Israelis have experienced such fears. There was the second Palestinian uprising in 2001. The Oslo Accords had created an opportunity for the Palestinians to begin building their state, but instead, thousands of Israelis were killed in suicide bombings. Then came the Hamas attack. So, Israelis are afraid, and they believe they have reasons to be afraid. Hamas itself presents the conflict as a zero-sum game.

That is how many Israelis perceive the situation. When you look at the conflict from the outside and argue that these two peoples must come together, you have to understand that both sides have their grievances. Bringing them together is extremely difficult. If you want even to begin that process, you have to think about how to change the perception that this is a zero-sum game.

A Post-Netanyahu Government Could Restore Palestinian Property Protections

The Gaza war and intensified settlement expansion in the West Bank have brought competing visions of sovereignty, annexation, and Palestinian statehood into sharper focus. Has the radical right succeeded in shifting the boundaries of legitimate political debate so far that even a post-Netanyahu government would struggle to reverse these trajectories?

Professor Gideon Rahat: For many years, Israel benefited from two factors. First, the Palestinians themselves were divided between Hamas and the PLO, making negotiations extremely difficult. Even if Israel reached an agreement with the PLO, what would that achieve if Hamas refused to respect it? This division worked to Israel’s advantage.

Second, the Israeli Supreme Court did not allow settlers to take privately owned land, only land that was not privately owned. This provided Israel with some protection against international criticism because the Supreme Court was widely respected. However, once the current government began attacking the Supreme Court and disregarding the principle of private property, Israel became much more exposed to international criticism.

Any government other than the current one would probably return to the previous policy. I don’t think there would necessarily be negotiations over Palestinian statehood, but I believe such a government would respect the previous status quo, under which the private property of Palestinians was not to be touched.

Delegitimizing Arab Parties Undermines Israeli Democracy

Israelis protest in Tel Aviv against Netanyahu’s Judicial Coup in Israel. Photo: Avivi Aharon.

Palestinian Arab citizens constitute roughly one-fifth of Israel’s population, yet their parties face persistent political exclusion. Following the recent controversy over attempts to disqualify Arab-majority electoral lists, does the 2026 election expose a fundamental contradiction between Israel’s Jewish-national identity and its commitment to equal democratic citizenship?

Professor Gideon Rahat: When you look at this issue, you have to remember that the so-called Arab parties are also, in a sense, non-Zionist parties. They do not support the idea that Israel is the state of the Jewish people. However, these parties are not exclusively Arab. Although most of their voters are Arabs, the Communist Party is a Jewish-Arab party. Another party also has a Jewish representative, and there are Arab representatives in Zionist parties as well. So, the situation is not entirely clear-cut.

Nevertheless, you are absolutely right that there is a delegitimization of Arab parties. They are not regarded as legitimate coalition partners, and from my perspective, this is a problem.

Let’s imagine that some of these parties hold positions that are considered illegitimate. That may be the case. But if that is the problem, other parties should make their conditions explicit. They could say, for example, “If Party X from the so-called Arab or non-Zionist camp agrees to certain conditions—one, two, and three—we can cooperate with them.” This would put suspicions of racism aside and make the question one of political opinions and policies. From my point of view, this is what should be done.

On the other hand, you have to understand why some people are suspicious of particular parties. For example, one party has connections to the Muslim Brotherhood. The Muslim Brotherhood is a huge movement, encompassing both more moderate elements and others that are openly terrorist. Such connections make some people worry that this party’s ultimate aspiration is a Muslim caliphate rather than the State of Israel.

Then there is the Arab nationalist party, which talks about a state from the river to the sea without any special status for Jews. You have to remember that the State of Israel was established as a safe haven for Jews who had been killed in the Holocaust and persecuted and killed in many other places. The idea was to establish a state for the Jewish people.

So, there is a genuine problem here. Once again, if both sides could show empathy and understand each other’s grievances and the sources of their mutual distrust, there might be opportunities for alliances. My personal view is that such alliances are possible. I don’t see why they should not be.

However, many people carry these feelings and grievances, and after October 7 and everything that has happened since, building a coalition with these parties has become extremely difficult. It is important to distinguish between these particular parties and Arab political participation more generally. Israel has already had a Muslim Arab minister, as well as a Druze minister. Of course, the Druze community is more closely aligned with the state, so the situation is more complex than it might initially appear.

Nevertheless, you are absolutely right that this is a problem. One of the best things that could happen to the State of Israel would be some form of coming together and an effort to build these alliances. Such cooperation would not necessarily have to begin with Arab parties formally joining a coalition. They could remain outside the government and, for example, support a minority government by refraining from voting to bring it down. There are possibilities for cooperation. However, this remains the deepest rift, the most fundamental cleavage in Israeli society: the divide between Jews and Arabs, most of whom are Muslims.

Opposition Fragmentation and Weak Political Parties

Recent polling places Gadi Eisenkot’s Yashar party in close competition with Likud, while Naftali Bennett and other opposition figures compete for the anti-Netanyahu electorate. Does this fragmentation reflect healthy democratic pluralism, or does the opposition’s dependence on competing political personalities reproduce the very personalization you identify within Likud?

Professor Gideon Rahat: I must say that Likud at least has an established party organization. In the other parties, there is hardly any organizational structure. You could argue that most opposition parties, with the exception of the Democrats, the left-wing Zionist party, are almost entirely personalized parties that would probably not survive beyond their current leaders.

This is a huge problem because, even if we imagine that these leaders would behave differently from Netanyahu, there would still be no party organization capable of serving as a check and balance. Something important is missing in Israeli politics. Political parties and their organizations can play a crucial role in opposing populist forces.

You can see this in Turkey, for example, where opposition parties continue to exist as established organizations even when their leaders change. These parties remain important. In other countries with populist regimes, political parties also play a significant role. In Israel, however, this organizational dimension has become very weak.

We need to reconstruct political parties. Israel used to be what scholars call a “party state.” In the past, 25 percent of the Israeli population belonged to political parties. But these parties have largely collapsed.

Nobody particularly likes political parties, perhaps because they divide society, represent particular interests, and are associated with internal political struggles. Yet if you look at the empirical evidence from around the world, the stronger political parties are—and I mean parties in the plural—the greater the degree of party organization, or “partiness,” and the stronger democracy tends to be.

It is very important to remember the connection between political parties and democracy. You are absolutely right that we need to reconstruct them to sustain democracy in the long run, even if Netanyahu were to allow democracy to flourish.

The Far Right Would Sacrifice Israeli Children for Greater Israel

Campaign signs for the Israeli government “Shas” party head by Arye Deri, depicting Rabbi Ovadia Yosef, prior to the April 2019 elections in Safed, Israel on March 10, 2019. Photo: David Cohen.

Although leading opposition figures promise to restore institutional accountability and reverse some ultranationalist policies, many remain committed to restrictive positions on Palestinian statehood. Would an opposition victory represent genuine democratic renewal, or primarily a change in leadership within an enduring ethnonational and security-oriented political consensus?

Professor Gideon Rahat: I think there would be democratic renewal. Even if the new government included clearly right-wing forces, such as Bennett, Lieberman, and others, it would still be possible to engage in dialogue with them. There would no longer be an automatic veto by the extreme right.

You have to understand that the extreme right’s veto power over Netanyahu’s government extended beyond the Palestinian issue. It even affected negotiations over the Israeli hostages in Gaza. These parties would not allow Netanyahu to reach a deal to bring Israeli citizens home from Gaza. That is before considering all the other issues. They are extremely nationalistic and are prepared to sacrifice not only others but also their own children and their own people for the sake of Greater Israel. That is their vision.

If these forces were no longer part of the government, some progress would be possible. Would the next government establish a Palestinian state? Forget about it. But there would still be opportunities to move forward. Dialogue could resume, and efforts could begin to explore whether the Palestinian Authority, together with whoever governs Gaza, could start building something that might eventually become a state. Perhaps it would not ultimately become a state, but at least the lives of Palestinians could improve to some extent.

Israel’s Fragmented Party System Makes Coalition Outcomes Unpredictable

Recent polls offer conflicting projections, with some indicating a substantial anti-Netanyahu advantage while others suggest a closely balanced parliamentary landscape. Given the 61-seat coalition threshold, the electoral weight of religious parties, and the potential role of Arab parties, which coalition scenarios do you consider most plausible after October 27?

Professor Gideon Rahat: If neither side secures a majority of 61 seats after the elections, everything remains open. Several scenarios are being discussed. One possibility currently under consideration is for the opposition, together with the Arab non-Zionist parties, to first replace the Knesset speaker and then pass legislation that would prevent Netanyahu from returning to power. This could potentially be followed by another election.

There are many possible scenarios, and you can never be certain what will happen after an election. We might even find ourselves with a unity government involving Netanyahu and Eisenkot. You simply cannot know because this is coalition politics. No single party commands a majority, and Israel does not have large parties. According to opinion polls, the largest party is projected to win just 24 of the 120 seats, or 20 percent. That means a coalition must be built.

When you build a coalition, everyone applies pressure, everyone plays chicken with everyone else, and everyone negotiates. The final outcome is impossible to know in advance. It is like cooking: you bring together many different ingredients, and you cannot be sure what the final result will be. So, if you expect the elections to produce a clear answer, I would be surprised.

Netanyahu’s Departure Could Restore Consensus-Based Democracy

And lastly, Professor Rahat, looking beyond October 27, what would constitute the more consequential outcome for Israeli democracy: Netanyahu’s defeat, the exclusion of the religious-nationalist far right from government, or a deeper institutional transformation that restores pluralism and accountability? Are we witnessing the possible end of Netanyahuism, or the consolidation of a political order that may outlast its founder?

Professor Gideon Rahat: If Netanyahu is ousted, there is a good chance for change because there is no single person who could become the next Netanyahu. Netanyahu did not allow anyone around him to grow politically. If he saw someone who might challenge him in any way, that person was pushed out.

As a result, I don’t think there is anyone who could take over the political infrastructure Netanyahu has built and use it in the same way. So, there is a good chance that once he is removed from power, political power will be dispersed and redistributed among different forces. These forces might even have an interest in dispersing power because none of them would want another leader to become the next Netanyahu.

Only someone who imagines himself as Netanyahu’s successor might want to preserve this centralized power structure. But most political leaders understand that they are unlikely to become the next Netanyahu, so it would be better for them to distribute power more broadly.

Hopefully, this would allow Israel to return to a more consensus-based form of democracy. I also hope that the next government will undertake institutional reforms to establish and consolidate this broader distribution of political power.

The Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) protest.

Populism Without a Populist: India’s New Experiment in Protest Politics

India’s Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) has transformed a satirical identity into a vehicle for political mobilization outside conventional party structures. Its emergence raises a question about contemporary protest populism: can a movement construct a political people without a dominant leader, and who exercises authority in their name? In this ECPS Voices of Youth (VoY) commentary, Saurabh Raj examines how the movement connects diverse grievances through a shared anti-establishment identity while confronting dilemmas of leadership, representation, and democratic accountability. Drawing on theories of populism and counter-democracy, Raj argues that successful mobilization does not automatically confer representative legitimacy. The movement’s democratic test ultimately concerns whether participants can hold those acting on their behalf accountable.

By Saurabh Raj*

In July 2026, a youth-led movement called the Cockroach Janta Party (CJP) celebrated the resignation of India’s Education Minister, Dharmendra Pradhan, following weeks of protests over examination irregularities. Three months later, its founder, Abhijeet Dipke, was detained ahead of another demonstration. Anticipating his detention, he had recorded a video designating a colleague to lead the protest in his absence (The Hitavada, 2026; India Today, 2026). The contrast is revealing. A movement that emerged through political satire had acquired the capacity to challenge powerful institutions without becoming an electoral party. Yet its collective identity could not independently determine who should negotiate, decide or lead. 

CJP is part of a wider movement of youth-led anti-establishment mobilization. From Kenya and Bangladesh to Nepal, specific grievances over taxation, employment and corruption have developed into broader challenges to political authority. Their outcomes differ, but they raise a common question about the relationship between popular mobilization and institutional representation. I argue that CJP’s innovation lies in constructing a popular political identity without a conventional party or dominant charismatic leader, while its democratic challenge lies in making the authority exercised in that identity accountable to those it claims to represent.

Understanding Protest Populism

Populism is often associated with charismatic leaders claiming to embody the will of ordinary citizens against established elites. Yet this represents only one understanding of the phenomenon. Laclau (2005) conceptualizes populism as a political logic through which separate social demands become connected in opposition to an established order. Through this process, the people emerge as a political identity rather than a pre-existing, homogeneous constituency. A symbol, slogan or demand can function as an empty signifier, bringing different grievances together without eliminating their differences. Gerbaudo’s (2023) analysis of the populist turn in social movements extends this understanding. Movements such as Occupy Wall Street and France’s Yellow Vests constructed broad popular identities capable of mobilizing citizens across established ideological boundaries.

Here, protest populism refers to this mode of political mobilization: connecting heterogeneous grievances through a shared identity that challenges established authority without necessarily seeking electoral power. This differs from Mudde’s (2004) definition of populism as a thin-centered ideology dividing society between a virtuous people and a corrupt elite. CJP does not consistently demonstrate that moral division. It is therefore more useful to examine its populist mode of political articulation than to assign it a fixed ideological label.

The relevant distinction is between the construction of a popular identity and the institutions through which that identity is subsequently represented.

When a Name Becomes a Political People

Cockroach Janata Party.
Photo: Screenshot from CJP website.

CJP’s most distinctive political innovation may be its name. Following a controversy involving Chief Justice Surya Kant’s use of the term cockroaches, activists appropriated the expression and transformed it into a symbol of citizens refusing to be dismissed by powerful institutions (Reuters, 2026b). Unlike conventional party identities, cockroaches carry no defined ideological programme. Its ambiguity is its political strength. Students concerned about examination irregularities and citizens questioning electoral administration can identify with the same movement without sharing a comprehensive political ideology. CJP’s transition from examination protests in July to electoral-roll disputes in October illustrates this process. Different institutional controversies became connected through a common accusation of unresponsiveness to ordinary citizens.

In Laclau’s (2005) terms, these demands form a chain of equivalence. Their distinct concerns acquire collective meaning through opposition to an establishment perceived as insufficiently accountable. CJP thus offers a qualified example of populism without a conventional populist figure at its center. Dipke remains a prominent leader, but the movement’s identity is not reducible to his personality. The cockroach symbol performs part of the unifying function often associated with charismatic leadership. Yet symbolic unity has limits. A shared identity can mobilize citizens around grievances, but it cannot determine which demands should prevail, who should negotiate or what constitutes an acceptable political settlement.

The problem of representation emerges precisely where popular identification must become collective decision-making.

Political Victories and the Legitimacy of Leadership

CJP’s July negotiations make this contradiction visible. Its spokespersons, Saurav Das and Ashutosh Ranka, negotiated with Union Ministers J. P. Nadda and Jitendra Singh over examination reforms, compensation and withdrawal of cases against protesters. The negotiations preceded government concessions and the conclusion of the agitation (The Hitavada, 2026).

The movement had mobilized through a broad popular identity, but achieving a settlement required identifiable representatives to interpret demands and participate in decisions affecting the wider collective. Scharpf’s (1999) distinction between input legitimacy, derived from participation and procedures, and output legitimacy, derived from performance, offers a useful analogy. Political victories can strengthen confidence in representatives even when the processes authorizing them remain less visible.

This does not establish that CJP’s negotiators lacked a democratic mandate. Public reporting provides insufficient evidence about its internal procedures. The episode nevertheless demonstrates how political effectiveness and representative accountability raise different questions. 

October 2026 presented another institutional setting. CJP demanded the resignation of Chief Election Commissioner Gyanesh Kumar over electoral-roll revisions. Unlike an elected minister, the Chief Election Commissioner occupies a constitutionally protected office intended to function independently of government. The Election Commission rejected allegations of political bias (Reuters, 2026).

Police restrictions and repeated detentions complicated the protests. Das and Ranka were detained on October 13 and subsequently remanded to judicial custody, which was extended by two days on October 19 (Jha, 2026; Mathur, 2026). Dipke was detained again ahead of an October 16 demonstration (Reuters, 2026).

Anticipating detention earlier on October 10, Dipke had designated Ajinkya Shinde, CJP’s organization in-charge, to lead the protest through a pre-recorded video (India Today, 2026). Shinde himself was subsequently detained alongside Das and Ranka, although he was later released (Jha, 2026). The succession arrangement demonstrated preparation rather than organizational failure. Yet publicly visible leadership authority was conferred through the founder’s designation, rather than a participant-led process identifiable in available reporting.

July demonstrated the movement’s negotiating influence; October exposed the practical importance of leadership continuity. Neither episode proves that CJP is internally undemocratic. Together, however, they raise the question of how representative authority is constituted beyond political victories and individual prominence.

Freeman’s (1972) The Tyranny of Structurelessness provides an important caution: rejecting formal hierarchy does not eliminate power; it can make its exercise less visible. For CJP, the democratic question is not whether leaders should exist, but whether participants can meaningfully influence and hold them accountable.

A Watchdog, Not Another Political Party?

Must successful protest movements eventually enter electoral politics? India’s anti-corruption movement of 2011 confronted this dilemma. One section eventually formed the Aam Aadmi Party in 2012, concluding that institutional reform required participation in electoral competition. CJP has chosen a different course, at least for now.

Its demands concern accountability rather than governmental power. Ministerial resignations, examination reforms and electoral scrutiny are claims directed at public authorities, not proposals to govern in their place. Rosanvallon’s (2008) concept of counter-democracy offers a useful framework. He argues that citizens exercise democratic influence beyond elections through oversight, prevention and judgment. CJP can therefore be understood not as an incomplete political party, but as a potential institution of civic vigilance.

International experiences demonstrate different possibilities. Kenyan protesters secured the withdrawal of a finance bill without entering government (Reuters, 2024). Some organizers of Bangladesh’s student uprising subsequently established the National Citizen Party (Reuters, 2025). In Nepal, the political opening following youth protests was channeled through elections, with the Rastriya Swatantra Party winning 182 of 275 parliamentary seats in March 2026 (Sharma, 2026).

These contrasting trajectories demonstrate that protest mobilization has no predetermined institutional destination. Remaining outside electoral politics is not necessarily a weakness; it can represent a different means of exercising democratic influence. But civic vigilance carries its own responsibility. Unlike electoral parties, which seek mandates from voters, movements derive legitimacy from public participation, credibility and their ability to articulate collective demands. When a small group negotiates on behalf of a wider constituency, the accountability of that representation becomes consequential. A movement scrutinizing public authority must also confront the question of accountability within itself.

Beyond the Populist Moment

CJP’s significance extends beyond its immediate political victories. It illustrates how a shared symbol can connect fragmented grievances and construct a political constituency without the machinery of an established party.

For populism studies, the case suggests the importance of looking beyond exclusively leader-centered accounts of mobilization. A shared name can perform the unifying work often associated with a charismatic figure, but symbolic identification alone cannot authorize decisions or resolve competing demands. This is the central tension of CJP’s experiment. Its political identity is constructed collectively, while the exercise of authority necessarily involves representatives whose legitimacy must be established and sustained.

A movement is tested not only on the day thousands arrive, but also on the day its leaders cannot. CJP has demonstrated that a shared identity can bring people together without a party. Its more demanding democratic test is whether those people can exercise meaningful authority over the politics conducted in their name.


 

(*) Saurabh Raj is a core team member at the Indian School of Democracy and a contributor to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). His work focuses on political leadership, democratic institutions and governance in India.


 

References

Freeman, J. (1972). “The tyranny of structurelessness.” The Second Wave, 2(1).https://www.jofreeman.com/joreen/tyranny.htm

Gerbaudo, P. (2023). “From Occupy Wall Street to the Gilets Jaunes: On the populist turn in the protest movements of the 2010s.” Capital & Class, 47(1), 107–124. https://doi.org/10.1177/03098168221137207

India Today. (2026, October 10). “CJP shares Plan B sans Dipke, Ranka, Das. It features a pre-recorded video.”  https://www.indiatoday.in/india/story/cjp-abhijeet-dipke-video-detention-ajinkya-shinde-lead-movement-saurav-das-ashutosh-ranka-protest-jantar-mantar-3013979-2026-10-10

Jha, P. (2026, October 14). “Delhi court sends CJP’s Saurav Das and Ashutosh Ranka to judicial custody for 5 days.” Bar & Bench. https://www.barandbench.com/amp/story/news/delhi-court-sends-cjps-saurav-das-ashutosh-ranka-ajinkya-shinde-to-judicial-custody-for-5-days

Laclau, E. (2005). On Populist Reason. Verso. https://www.versobooks.com/en-gb/products/1941-on-populist-reason

Mathur, A. (2026, October 19). “CJP leaders Saurav Das, Ashutosh Ranka get 2 more days in jail: What does law say.” India Today. https://www.indiatoday.in/india/law-news/story/cjp-leaders-saurav-das-ashutosh-ranka-custody-surety-rejections-3021021-2026-10-19

Mudde, C. (2004). “The populist zeitgeist.” Government and Opposition, 39(4), 541–563. https://doi.org/10.1111/j.1477-7053.2004.00135.x

Reuters. (2024, June 26). “Kenyan president Ruto rejects finance bill.”  https://www.reuters.com/world/africa/kenyan-president-ruto-rejects-finance-bill-2024-06-26/

Reuters. (2025, February 24). “Bangladeshi students, who ousted former PM Hasina, set to launch political party.”  https://www.reuters.com/world/asia-pacific/bangladeshi-students-who-ousted-former-pm-hasina-set-launch-political-party-2025-02-24/

Reuters. (2026a, October 10). “From ‘cockroach’ post to protest leader: India’s Dipke tests Modi government.”  https://www.reuters.com/world/asia-pacific/cockroach-post-protest-leader-indias-dipke-tests-modi-government-2026-10-10/

Reuters. (2026b, October 16). “Indian police detain ‘cockroach’ founder, student leaders ahead of Delhi rally.”  https://www.reuters.com/world/india/security-stepped-up-indias-capital-cockroach-movement-rally-2026-10-16/

Reuters. (2026c, October 19). “Indian court extends custody of ‘Cockroach’ movement leaders, local media says.”  https://www.reuters.com/world/india/indian-court-extends-custody-cockroach-movement-leaders-local-media-says-2026-10-19/

Rosanvallon, P. (2008). Counter-democracy: Politics in an age of distrust (A. Goldhammer, Trans.). Cambridge University Press. https://doi.org/10.1017/CBO9780511755835

Scharpf, F. W. (1999). Governing in Europe: Effective and democratic? Oxford University Press.https://doi.org/10.1093/acprof:oso/9780198295457.001.0001

Sharma, P. (2026, March 17). “From victory to responsibility: Can the RSP deliver in Nepal?” (ISAS Insights No. 779). Institute of South Asian Studies, National University of Singapore. https://www.isas.nus.edu.sg/wp-content/uploads/2026/03/ISAS-Insights-779hk-hs.pdf

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Caricature of Italian politicians Beppe Grillo, Matteo Renzi and Matteo Salvini in carnival parade of floats and masks, on January 2018 in Viareggio, Tuscany, Italy. Photo: Kokophotos.

Europe’s Democratic Blind Spot: Who Selects the Candidates?

In this Voice of Youth (VoY) commentary, Filippo Palmieri examines a critical blind spot in the European Union’s democratic resilience agenda: how political parties select their candidates. Drawing on Italy’s new electoral law and comparative research on political recruitment, Palmieri argues that protecting elections from foreign interference, disinformation, and financial manipulation is insufficient if candidate selection remains opaque and concentrated in party leaderships. Comparing recruitment practices among Italy’s major populist parties, he demonstrates that political turnover does not necessarily indicate democratic renewal. Rather than advocating EU intervention in internal party affairs, Palmieri proposes greater transparency, comparative research, and national reporting requirements to strengthen political accountability and democratic resilience.

By Filippo Palmieri*

On October 8, 2026, the Italian Chamber of Deputies gave final approval to a new electoral law, published the next day as Law No. 180 and in force from October 24. Seats will be allocated proportionally, with a bonus for any list or coalition that wins 42 percent of the vote. In each multi-member district, parties will present lists of seven names, and voters may express up to three preferences among the last six. The first name is fixed by the party and has first claim on any seat the list wins. The 70 bonus seats in the Chamber go to candidates on separate lists, all of whom are elected if the bonus is triggered. When Italians next vote, expected in 2027, a significant part of the choice will have been made by whoever compiles the lists.

European resilience policy says little about that stage, and one rule marks the boundary with unusual precision. Regulation (EU, Euratom) 2025/2445 on European political parties and foundations, in force since December 2025, counts among the tasks of European political foundations “capacity building to support the formation of future political leaders in the Union.” Article 27(2), which bars foundations from funding elections, parties or candidates, allows them to train people “up to the date on which they become a candidate in accordance with national rules or up to the date of their nomination in the national party, whichever is earlier.”

The rule concerns funding, and the line it draws is legitimate: candidate selection is a matter for national law and for parties, and the ban keeps European money out of national campaigns. But it shows where European attention stops. The instruments examined below, the core of the Union’s resilience agenda, protect parties from interference and regulate their money; none of them asks how parties decide who will govern, a function whose results vary with how parties are organized.

Protect, Regulate, Train

The European Democracy Shield, presented by the European Commission and the High Representative on November 12, 2025, mentions political parties in a single section, on the fairness and integrity of electoral processes. There they appear in connection with foreign interference, party financing, a level playing field among competitors and voluntary commitments on the responsible use of artificial intelligence; candidates appear chiefly as people whose safety needs protecting. The section on civic participation relies on citizens’ panels, civic technology and civil society organizations, and parties do not feature in it. 

The European Centre for Democratic Resilience, which began its work in February 2026, is designed to detect threats, coordinate early warnings and counter disinformation and foreign information manipulation. The Commission’s 2023 Recommendation on inclusive and resilient electoral processes comes closest to the inner life of parties, asking them to encourage gender balance on their electoral lists. On how candidates are chosen, it says nothing.

An early assessment of the Shield on Verfassungsblog observed that its focus on external threats tends to obscure the domestic sources of democratic weakness. Parties belong to what Jan-Werner Müller has called democracy’s “critical infrastructure,” and selection is the part of that infrastructure that produces the people who will run institutions.

Why Selection Matters

Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt describe parties as gatekeepers whose task is to keep would-be authoritarians away from power. Much of that gatekeeping happens when candidates are chosen. The evidence suggests parties can select well when they have reasons to. Working with Swedish population registers, Ernesto Dal Bó and colleagues found that politicians score above the population they represent on the cognitive and leadership tests taken by men at military conscription, and that selection on ability is stronger where electoral competition is more intense. In Italy, Vincenzo Galasso and Tommaso Nannicini showed that between 1994 and 2001, when most seats were won in single-member districts, parties placed better-educated candidates with local government experience in the districts that either side could win. These studies show that incentives to select carefully matter. They do not show that long careers are better in themselves.

Procedure matters as well. Reuven Hazan and Gideon Rahat’s comparative study of candidate selection shows that methods trade participation, representation, competition and responsiveness against one another, and that narrow selectorates tend to produce more cohesive and disciplined groups. A more inclusive procedure is not better on every count. Writing about Italy, Piero Ignazi found parties largely closed to the decentralization of selection seen elsewhere in Europe, in some cases more centralized than before 1994, and warned that appeals to the membership over the heads of intermediate cadres introduce a plebiscitary dynamic.

Same Turnover, Different Careers

Italy’s 2018 election is usually told as a story about populism. The data on selection tell a more precise one. In the Chamber of Deputies, 65.9 percent of members had not sat in the previous legislature, almost the same share as in 2013 (65.5 percent), while electoral volatility was lower (26.7 against 36.7 percent). Eugenio Salvati and Michelangelo Vercesiconcluded that much of the renewal was decided before the vote, by party leaderships that controlled the drafting of lists.

The turnover rate hides who came in. The League, led by Matteo Salvini, renewed 87.8 percent of its group in the Chamber. Yet in a study of the new Chamber, Bruno Marino, Nicola Martocchia Diodati and Luca Verzichelli found an “extremely low” share of League deputies without any previous local, party or parliamentary position, against more than half of the Five-Star Movement’s. The Movement let enrolled members put themselves forward online, subject to a binding veto by its political leader, who also picked the candidates for single-member seats. Both parties are classified as populist in the PopuList, an expert-based database of populist, far-left and far-right parties in Europe.

A different indicator, measured after the 2022 election, points the same way. According to Openpolis, 81 percent of the League’s parliamentarians had served in local councils or executives, as had 68 percent of those of Brothers of Italy, the party of Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, also classified as populist. For the Five-Star Movement the figure was 22.5 percent. Parties that share the populist label can recruit in very different ways, and the label alone does not describe them.

What to Look For

None of this makes political experience a measure of democratic quality. A seasoned local administrator may depend entirely on a leader; a newcomer may widen representation. Biographies cannot settle the question. What matters for resilience is the process: whether nominations are transparent, whether they can be contested inside the party, how concentrated the power to nominate is, and how open candidacies are. These features decide to whom elected representatives owe their seats, and so whether they can act as a check on their own leadership.

What Could Be Done

This does not call for European rules on how parties pick their candidates. Three proposals follow, at different levels.

At the European level, the Commission has already used soft law on the composition of electoral lists when it encouraged gender balance in 2023. A future recommendation could invite Member States to make parties disclose how each candidate was chosen: by which body, under which rules, with what room for challenge.

Within the Union’s own structures, the Stakeholder Platform of the European Centre for Democratic Resilience is meant to bring researchers, academia and civil society into its work. Comparative research on candidate selection belongs there as much as research on disinformation.

At the national level, some rules already exist. Since 2013, Italian law has required parties seeking the “2 per mille,” a share of income tax that taxpayers can assign to a party, to set out in their statutes how they select candidates. The commission that reviews those statutes looks at their content: in 2021 it turned down the Five Star Movement’s request, and, according to the party, the changes it asked for included its rules on candidacies. Parliament could go further and require parties to report, after each election, how those procedures were applied. Under the new electoral law, such reports would tell voters who chose the names they cannot change.

Europe will pay to train a future Italian deputy until the day her party puts her name at the top of a list. What happens on that day is where its resilience policy goes quiet.


 

(*) Filippo Palmieri holds a master’s degree in International and Diplomatic Sciences, specializing in Politics and International Security, from the University of Bologna. His research focuses on democratic theory, populism, political representation, the transformation of political parties and the effects of digital communication on contemporary democracy. His master’s thesis examined the changing analytical value of the concept of populism in twenty-first-century democracies. He has presented research on democracy, populism and illiberalism at academic events hosted by the Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore, the Italian Political Science Association and Venice International University. Email: filippo.palmieri3@studio.unibo.it

PTI supporter at Jinnah Cricket Stadium during a political rally of cricketer turned politician Imran Khan on March 23, 2012 in Sialkot, Pakistan. Photo: Jahanzaib Naiyyer.

Leader-Centrism and Polarization: Tracing the Determinants of Youth Voting Behavior 

This Voice of Youth (VoY) piece examines the growing influence of leader-centrism, political polarization, and digital mobilization on youth voting behavior in Pakistan. Drawing on a survey of 200 students from two major public universities in Lahore, Hamza Wyne identifies a pronounced shift from institutional party platforms toward personalized political loyalties. Findings reveal that 73.5% of respondents voted primarily because of party leadership, while 72% assign responsibility for political accountability to party leaders. Meanwhile, 68% follow political parties through social media, highlighting the expanding influence of digital political engagement alongside traditional mobilization. Deep ideological divisions persist, particularly regarding religious parties, with 38.5% opposing and 26.5% supporting religiously aligned voting. Against Pakistan’s substantial youth demographic, the study raises critical questions about charismatic leadership, democratic accountability, ideological fragmentation, and the future of electoral politics.

By Hafiz Hamza Wyne*

Across South Asia, young voters are increasingly shaping the frontiers of democratic survival and political polarization. In Pakistan, where university students represent a hyper-engaged and volatile demographic, understanding what drives electoral choices is critical to predicting the country’s political trajectory. Focusing on the metropolitan hub of Punjab Province, this study analyzes the behavioral and political determinants of public sector university students in Lahore. 

The sites of the research are the public sector universities of Punjab, namely the University of the Punjab (PU) and Government College University (GCU). The two universities are among the big public sector universities of Lahore. About 200 respondents who voted in Pakistan’s general elections were included in this study. The survey method is used for this study due to its efficiency in collecting a broad range of data incorporating diverse responses. Data are gathered through a close-ended questionnaire, and a Likert scale is used to measure respondents’ attitudes based on the gathered data.

The findings reveal a stark reality: traditional party manifestos and institutional platforms are increasingly sidelined by a deeply personalized, leader-centric political culture. The youth potential in Pakistan is one of the highest, with 67% of Pakistan’s population under the age of 30. This translates into a voting pattern in which the number of young voters has drastically surged, making youth voters more important.

Prior research focuses on the social determinants of voting behavior in the province of Punjab, which were centered on rural and urban populations (Ahmad, 2012). It has failed to take into account a particular set of voters, namely university students, whom this piece intends to target and keenly analyze. This study focuses solely on students from two major government universities, with a focus on their beliefs and opinions, which stimulate them to vote for a particular political party.

Pakistan is a fragile democratic state. Since 1947, it has experienced three military takeovers, which show that it has a weak democracy. The stability of its political system depends on its massive youth bulge. Yet, a fundamental problem persists, while young citizens are mobilized, their engagement is taking place in an environment deeply polarized by narrative warfare. By analyzing how this student demographic processes electoral choices, we can observe whether higher education fosters institutional democratic stability or instead accelerates the personalization of political power. Political determinants are those factors that are politically motivated. In this study, the political determinants are electoral campaigns, party affiliation, and political ideology.

In a great part of Asia, caste or baradari (brotherhood), personality, and personal relations with candidates are the determinants of voting behavior (Akhter & Sheikh, 2014; Badshah et al., 2018). Of course, many voters still vote on an ideological basis. It could be religious, feminist, nationalist, socialist, or any other ideology. We have seen religious extremism not just in the form of pressure groups, but these groups are so strong that they are now forming governments in different countries, as we can see in India, the biggest democracy in the world (D’Ambrogio, 2014). 

Demographic Segments / Generation Z and Household Profiles of Urban Punjab: 70.5 percent of the sampled population falls directly within the 20-to-23 age range. Academic stratification across the sample spans from undergraduate BS tracks (90 percent) to advanced M.Phil (7 percent) and PhD levels (3 percent), reflecting a broad cross-spectrum consensus. Although the dataset includes representation from students native to Khyber Pakhtunkhwa, Balochistan, and Azad Jammu and Kashmir, the majority—92 percent—reside in Punjab, ensuring the study’s high generalizability across the province.

The Mediatized Campaign / Digital Echo Chambers and Populist Rhetoric: Modern campaigns in Pakistan function as mediatized spheres. This study demonstrates that traditional public mobilization still retains weight; 54 percent of surveyed students follow political rallies to directly decide their votes, while 56.5 percent (combining the agree and strongly agree options) explicitly read and evaluate official party manifestos before casting their ballots. Over 56.5 percent of students declare a strong emotional affinity for specific party slogans (such as “Corruption ka Khatma (End of Corruption),” “Tabdeeli (Change),” or “Sher (Lion)”), proving that punchy, populist rhetoric plays a key role in youth movements. A whopping 68 percent of respondents actively followed their preferred political parties online.

Leader-Centrism, Ideological Rifts, and Accountability: In present times, people remain connected with their parties through social media and consume their party’s narrative. Our observations also assert the cardinal role that the party leader plays in increasing followership and garnering support for his own party. A large proportion, amounting to 73.5% of the students, had voted for a political party because of its leader. The leader, as a centralized figure, is reckoned to be an indispensable part of the political party. But youth loyalty is far from blind; it is highly conditional. A whole 72% of voters consider holding the party leadership accountable to be the responsibility of the leadership itself. 

Similarly, deep-seated ideological fragmentation exists. About 26.5% agree and 38.5% disagree when it comes to voting for a religious party. While a single leader can temporarily unite a youth movement under one banner, the urban youth demographic remains deeply fractured beneath the surface.

Conclusion

The findings suggest that youth voting behavior in Pakistan is increasingly shaped by charismatic leadership, digital engagement, and ideological polarization. While leader-centric politics dominates electoral choices, young voters also emphasize political accountability, indicating that their loyalty is not unconditional. The coexistence of personalized political allegiances, social media influence, and ideological divisions raises important questions about democratic consolidation. In sum, Pakistan’s democratic future will depend partly on whether its expanding youth electorate moves beyond charismatic leadership toward greater institutional accountability, substantive political engagement, and more inclusive democratic participation.


(*) Hafiz Hamza Wyne is a Pakistan-based empirical political researcher. His research focuses on youth political participation, electoral behavior, leader-centric politics, and political polarization, with particular emphasis on the dynamics of democratic engagement in Pakistan.


 

References 

Ahmad, M. (2012). “Voting behaviour in rural and urban areas of Punjab.” Journal of Political Studies, 14, 45-56.

Akhter, Z. & Sheikh, Y. A. (2014). “Determinants of voting behaviour in India: Theoretical perspective.” Public Policy Administration Research, 4(8), 104-108.

Badshah, L.; Rehman, A. U. & Muhammad, N. (2018). “Political determinants of voting behaviour in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa.” Liberal Arts and Social Sciences International Journal, 2(1), 1-10.

D’Ambrogio, E. (2014). “India: The biggest democracy in the world.” European Parliamentary Research Service.

Professor Adolph Reed Jr.

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

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

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trumpism Is Clearly a Form of Authoritarianism

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Trumpism Beyond Trump: Structural Contradictions and Capitalist Interests

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Economic Insecurity and Status Insecurity Are Not Really Separable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

White Supremacy, Racism, and Historical Explanation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Most People Cannot Imagine a Genuinely Egalitarian Society

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

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

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

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

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

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

There Is No Such Thing as Black Wealth and White Wealth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Universalism, Anti-Discrimination, and Working-Class Solidarity

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

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

No Social Transformation Without an Organizational Base

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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