In this ECPS interview, Dr. Filip Milacic argues that democrats should not abandon patriotic language to autocrats. Instead, they must develop inclusive and emotionally resonant national counternarratives. Warning that “outbidding autocrats on nationalism only strengthens their legitimacy,” Dr. Milacic explains how authoritarian incumbents justify democratic erosion through “threat narratives” portraying the nation, sovereignty, or identity as endangered. He emphasizes that dignity, recognition, and belonging are crucial drivers of political behavior often neglected by liberal democratic theory. Drawing on cases from Hungary, Poland, Serbia, Turkey, Israel, Brazil, and the United States, he argues that democratic resilience requires institutions, strategy, and narratives—because politics is “fundamentally a battle of narratives.”
Interview by Selcuk Gultasli
At a moment when democratic systems across Europe and beyond are increasingly challenged by populist mobilization, identity conflicts, and institutional erosion, the politics of nationalism has re-emerged as a central battleground. Authoritarian and illiberal actors have proven particularly adept at embedding their political projects within emotionally resonant narratives of national protection, sovereignty, and belonging. It is within this contested terrain that Dr. Filip Milacic’s intervention—captured in the striking claim that “outbidding autocrats on nationalism only strengthens their legitimacy”—acquires both analytical urgency and normative significance. His work invites a reconsideration of how democratic actors engage with the nation not as a fixed identity, but as a politically constructed and contested narrative space.
In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Milacic—senior researcher at the Friedrich Ebert Foundation’s “Democracy of the Future” office—offers an empirically rich account of democratic backsliding, authoritarian legitimation, and the role of narrative politics. Central to his argument is the contention that opposition forces face a strategic dilemma when confronting nationalist authoritarianism: to ignore the nation, to mimic exclusionary nationalism, or to construct an alternative vision. While the first two options remain common, Dr. Milacic insists that “the third option is the most promising”—namely, the development of a democratic counter-narrative that is both emotionally compelling and normatively inclusive.
This emphasis on narrative is not merely rhetorical but deeply structural. As Dr. Milacic underscores, authoritarian actors do not simply dismantle democratic institutions; they justify such actions through what he terms “threat narratives.” In these narratives, “the state is under attack” and “the nation, national identity, or national sovereignty [is] threatened,”thereby creating a moral and emotional framework within which democratic erosion becomes acceptable, even necessary. Crucially, these narratives resonate not because citizens misunderstand democracy, but because, as he notes, voters often support such leaders “not because of their authoritarian policies, but in spite of them.” This insight shifts the analytical focus from institutional breakdown alone to the discursive processes that legitimize it.
Equally important is Dr. Milacic’s critique of prevailing assumptions within liberal democratic theory. By foregrounding dignity, recognition, and belonging, he challenges the reduction of political behavior to economic rationality. Instead, he argues that “interests related to self-esteem, dignity, and recognition are significant,” and that the nation remains a powerful source of both identity and security. This helps explain why authoritarian narratives, particularly in contexts marked by “formative rifts” such as territorial disputes or contested identities, gain traction so effectively.
Yet Dr. Milacic resists deterministic conclusions. While some societies may be more structurally susceptible to such narratives, they are not condemned to authoritarian outcomes. Democratic resilience, he argues, depends on political agency and the capacity to craft inclusive, emotionally resonant counter-narratives. Ultimately, the interview advances a compelling thesis: that the defense of democracy today requires not only institutional safeguards but also a re-engagement with the symbolic and affective dimensions of political life—because, as Dr. Milacic concludes, politics is “fundamentally a battle of narratives.”
Here is the edited version of our interview with Dr. Filip Milacic, revised slightly to improve clarity and flow.
Reclaiming Patriotism Without Exclusion
Dr. Milacic, welcome. In “How to Defeat the Authoritarian Message,” you argue that democrats cannot leave patriotic language to autocrats. How can liberal-democratic actors reclaim national identity without reproducing exclusionary nationalism or validating the authoritarian framing of “the nation under siege”?
Dr. Filip Milacic: What I argue in my book, and also in a recent piece in the Journal of Democracy, is that when the opposition is faced with an authoritarian incumbent who uses national appeals as a justification for the subversion of democracy, it has two or three options. The first is to ignore the issue of the nation. The second is to try to outflank the authoritarian incumbent from the right, meaning to be more nationalist. The third is to create a counter-narrative. I think this third option is the most promising.
However, developing a counter-narrative is not easy. What I have tried to do is offer some guidance to political actors on how to draft such a narrative, based on research I have conducted in several countries. The first criterion is to identify a topic with a strong emotional underpinning. This is crucial. The topic must also be linked to the concept of the nation, because only then can it effectively mobilize voters.
At the same time, this is context-dependent. There is no single topic that fits all cases. It depends on the country. The topic could relate to national history or to contemporary issues. In choosing it, the opposition faces a trade-off. If it wants to defeat the authoritarian incumbent, it needs to win over some of the incumbent’s voters. This requires a narrative that is inclusive not only for its own supporters but also for moderate voters on the other side—those who are willing to switch and are not strongly partisan.
This task is easier in ethnically and religiously homogeneous societies, where it is more feasible to find an inclusive theme. In countries marked by so-called formative rifts—disputes over national identity or territory—it becomes much harder. These rifts are often instrumentalized by authoritarian incumbents as a justification for undermining democracy.
As a result, such issues are very difficult for the opposition to ignore. The Kosovo issue in Serbia or the Kurdish issue in Turkey, for example, is frequently used to legitimize attacks on democracy. The key question is therefore how to approach them. In my research, including cases such as Israel, I find that the opposition faces another trade-off: whether to prioritize inclusion of moderate voters from the majority population or to be more inclusive toward minorities, assuming a deep societal divide between the two.
This depends on the scale and depth of the conflict. In some cases, the divide is so entrenched that the opposition is reluctant to accommodate minority concerns. For instance, the Israeli protest movement in 2023 was more inclusive toward moderate government voters than toward Israeli Arabs. By contrast, in Turkey, the opposition has recently become more inclusive toward the Kurdish minority. Yet this raises another question: will such a strategy also appeal to some government voters? To win elections, the opposition must attract at least a portion of them.
Reconciling these groups is therefore extremely difficult. Finding a topic that addresses a formative rift while remaining sufficiently inclusive is a major challenge. Still, it is not impossible. There are windows of opportunity that allow the opposition to construct an inclusive narrative and even bypass these deeply politicized divides, which authoritarian incumbents rely on to sustain their power.
One example, though not part of my systematic research, is Sri Lanka. Despite strong ethnic cleavages, a presidential candidate recently campaigned on a platform centered on economic progress, good governance, and the provision of public goods for all citizens. However, this approach is often contingent on a severe economic crisis and widespread corruption. In such conditions, these issues acquire strong emotional resonance, extending beyond purely economic concerns.
In this context, it becomes possible to construct a patriotic counter-narrative based on good governance, partially bypassing identity-based conflicts. This is not a universally applicable or particularly reassuring solution, as it implies that such narratives emerge under conditions of crisis. Nonetheless, we observe similar dynamics elsewhere. In Hungary, for example, dissatisfaction with economic performance and corruption has enabled figures like Peter Magyar to develop elements of a counter-narrative centered on good governance.
In some contexts, therefore, widespread corruption and economic failure can open a window of opportunity to bridge divides between electoral groups and construct a patriotic narrative focused on good governance.
Backsliding Is Also a Battle Over the Nation
Your argument suggests that authoritarian incumbents succeed not simply by attacking institutions, but by embedding those attacks in emotionally resonant narratives of national protection. Should we therefore understand democratic backsliding primarily as an institutional process, or as a discursive struggle over who legitimately embodies the nation?
Dr. Filip Milacic: I do not deny that democratic backsliding is primarily institutional, based on attacks against different elements of democracy, especially so-called executive aggrandizement. However, what I am trying to suggest is that we need to take a step back.
In my work, I have conducted numerous surveys across different countries, and I can say that even voters of parties associated with democratic backsliding—such as Fidesz in Hungary, PiS in Poland, or SNS in Serbia—also endorse and value democracy. This raises an important question: do they perhaps not understand what democracy is? My colleagues and I examined this by asking questions related to so-called democratic competence, and we found that most of them do understand what democracy is and what it is not. Yet they continue to re-elect leaders such as Orbán, Kaczyński previously, and Vučić in Serbia.
So the question becomes: if the majority is pro-democratic and understands democracy, why do they still support these leaders? What I try to do is take a step back and show that they are not voting for these leaders because of their authoritarian policies, but in spite of them. I then investigated this further and found substantial evidence for what I call a “threat narrative.” In the cases I analyzed, before attacks on democracy occurred, there was consistently a narrative suggesting that the state was under attack—that the nation, national identity, or national sovereignty was threatened.
This narrative serves as a crucial justification for attacks on democracy in the name of the nation. In other words, we need to pay attention not only to the institutional dimension of democratic backsliding but also to how such actions are justified. Authoritarian incumbents do not simply undermine democratic institutions and expect voters to accept it; justification is key. My argument is that, before subverting democracy in the name of the nation, these actors construct a narrative in which the nation itself is under threat—and this narrative resonates with voters.
Dignity and Belonging Drive Politics
You emphasize dignity, recognition, and belonging as neglected dimensions of political behavior. To what extent has liberal democratic theory underestimated the affective power of the nation, and how should democratic strategy change once nationalism is understood as a source of personal and collective dignity?
Dr. Filip Milacic: I personally think that we have at least a partially flawed conception of human nature. Much of the literature is based on the assumption that actors are rational individuals whose primary aim is to maximize their economic benefits. While this is partly true, it does not provide a complete picture. There are also interests that are not related to the economy but are nonetheless very important to voters, such as recognition and personal dignity.
These interests may seem abstract. They are not as concrete as wanting more money in one’s pocket or an increase in one’s pension. However, interests related to self-esteem, dignity, and recognition are significant, even if they are less tangible, and this is precisely why they are often overlooked. I believe they are crucial drivers of voting behavior.
If we accept that dignity and recognition matter to voters, we must also acknowledge that people derive a great deal of their self-esteem from group membership. This is why belonging and community are so important. The nation, in particular, is one of the most significant groups. Belonging to a nation contributes not only to individual self-esteem but also to how people perceive their own value.
A simple example illustrates this dynamic. Whether we like it or not, we often feel proud and happy when our country succeeds in international sports competitions. This affects our sense of self-worth, even if we do not fully recognize it. It is a straightforward illustration of how group belonging reinforces self-esteem.
At the same time, groups such as the nation are not only important for self-esteem but also for security. Social psychology shows that belonging to a group provides individuals with a sense of security, which becomes particularly important in times of crisis and uncertainty, such as those we are currently experiencing.
In other words, if we accept that groups like the nation are central to individuals’ self-esteem and sense of security, we can better understand political developments over the past 10 or 15 years. Economic explanations alone are not sufficient.
Identity Conflicts Fuel Authoritarianism
In your work on stateness and democratic backsliding, you show that unresolved questions of statehood and national identity create fertile ground for ethno-political entrepreneurship. How should democrats respond when autocrats exploit formative rifts—such as Kosovo in Serbia, the Kurdish question in Turkey, or territorial disputes elsewhere—as justification for concentrating power?
Dr. Filip Milacic: As I mentioned in response to your previous question, context is crucial, particularly in my research. I have found that countries marked by so-called formative rifts—meaning disputed territory or contested national identity—are especially prone to the subversion of democracy in the name of the nation. These disputes generate nationalism and provide a powerful resource for authoritarian incumbents, as it is much easier to develop a so-called threat narrative when such issues remain unresolved. By contrast, where no such issues exist, threats to the nation often have to be constructed.
Let me compare Turkey and Hungary. In Hungary, Orbán had to invent threats to the nation, portraying immigrants or sexual minorities as dangers. For Erdoğan, this was easier because of the ongoing conflict between the Turks and Kurds. The presence of a real, unresolved dispute makes it easier to construct a convincing threat narrative.
How, then, should the opposition respond? As I suggested earlier, it should not attempt to outbid the authoritarian incumbent on nationalist grounds. In Turkey, the opposition initially pursued this strategy but eventually realized that it only reinforced the incumbent’s narrative. Instead, the opposition needs to develop a counter-narrative. A similar dynamic can be observed in Serbia, where Vučić has consistently used the Kosovo issue to justify attacks on democracy. Whenever the opposition tried to outflank him from the right, it failed.
However, developing such a counter-narrative is extremely difficult. When there is a deep conflict between majority and minority groups, the opposition faces a dilemma. To defeat the incumbent, it must win over some of their voters. This requires a narrative that does not ignore the formative rift but is still acceptable to both minority groups and segments of the government’s electorate. This is very challenging, and I do not have a definitive answer on how to resolve it.
What I can suggest is that there are moments when these conflicts become less salient, creating a window of opportunity. The opposition should use such moments to develop a narrative based on good governance, if the context allows. When the economy is underperforming, corruption is widespread, and citizens are dissatisfied with economic outcomes, these issues can become central. In such cases, it is possible to construct a patriotic narrative centered on good governance and strong institutions that deliver for all parts of society. This kind of narrative can be inclusive enough to appeal across different electoral groups.
Legislative Capture Enables Power Consolidation
Your Serbia research identifies “legislative capture” as a pathway through which Aleksandar Vučić transformed nationalist legitimacy into institutional domination. How does this pathway differ from more familiar forms of executive aggrandizement, and what early warning signs should democratic actors watch for?
Dr. Filip Milacic: I do not disagree that in Serbia the key issue is executive aggrandizement, meaning the accumulation of power in the hands of Aleksandar Vučić. However, what I sought to highlight is the role of parliament. Even though we now have a very strong executive at the expense of other branches of government, this process largely unfolded through parliament. Some scholars refer to this as so-called autocratic legalism. In this contemporary process of democratic backsliding, many measures are formally adopted through parliamentary procedures.
This is why it is called legislative capture. Full control of parliament becomes crucial for initiating democratic backsliding, and to achieve that, one must fully control the parliamentary majority. I believe this was the mechanism in Serbia, and in many other countries: a leader who fully controls the party. This is important to emphasize, as the role of political parties in democratic backsliding is often overlooked.
Once Vučić established control over the party and, consequently, over the parliamentary majority, it became much easier for him to implement anti-democratic policies and engage in attacks on various elements of democracy. In my view, the first step was his portrayal of himself as the savior of the nation and of the West as a threat to Serbia, particularly in relation to the Kosovo issue. This strengthened his legitimacy as a so-called savior of the nation, which in turn enabled him to consolidate control over his party, followed by full control of parliament. The final step is that full control of parliament allows the leader to extend control over many nominally independent institutions and to engage in broader power consolidation.
As for early warning signs, I would focus on these threat narratives. If we see an incumbent portraying himself as the savior of the nation while presenting the nation as being under threat, this should be understood as a clear warning sign of potential attacks on democracy carried out in the name of protecting the nation.
Nationalism Outbidding Strengthens Autocrats
In the Serbian case, Vučić’s self-presentation as defender of Kosovo and of the Serbian nation gave him a special legitimacy that facilitated party control, parliamentary capture, and the weakening of oversight institutions. How can opposition forces challenge such “national protector” narratives without appearing indifferent to national concerns?
Dr. Filip Milacic: For me, Serbia is a very interesting case, because Kosovo has played a central role in justifying attacks on democracy. The key question, as I also mentioned in relation to the Kurdish issue or the Israeli–Arab divide in Israel, is how to overcome these divisions and build an electoral majority.
In Serbia, opposition actors at times tried to be more nationalist on the Kosovo issue than Vučić, but this strategy failed. The question, then, is how to address voters’ concerns on these issues—on these formative rifts—without strengthening the authoritarian incumbent. I think the opposition in Serbia may now have an opportunity due to a major tragedy, when part of a railway station collapsed, killing 16 citizens. This event demonstrated that, in the absence of the rule of law and strong institutions, and in the presence of widespread corruption, it can cost lives. It is not only that the system fails to perform; people’s lives are put at risk.
This creates the kind of window of opportunity, allowing the opposition to move beyond the Kosovo issue, which strongly divides the electorate. It can instead construct a counter-narrative based on good governance, the rule of law, and democracy, but framed in patriotic terms. In other words, this tragedy illustrates what happens when a country lacks strong institutions and democratic governance.
These are the kinds of windows of opportunity—often arising from tragic circumstances—that the opposition can use to build a narrative that is inclusive enough to appeal to different segments of the electorate.
No Society Is Doomed to Authoritarianism
Your comparative work suggests that authoritarian threat narratives are most effective when they resonate with preexisting historical memories, territorial losses, demographic anxieties, or narratives of victimhood. Are some societies structurally more vulnerable to authoritarian nationalism, or can democratic counternarratives neutralize these vulnerabilities?
Dr. Filip Milacic: As I noted in response to your earlier question, justification is central to attacks on democracy, and threat narratives play a key role in that process. Research by other scholars also shows that narratives about endangered identity or sovereignty tend to resonate more strongly in societies marked by historical losses of territory or sovereignty, as well as in those shaped by formative rifts and demographic anxieties.
All the cases I analyze in my book exhibit these characteristics, which made it easier for authoritarian incumbents to develop narratives that resonated with the population. This resonance is essential, as it makes voters more willing to accept attacks on democracy in the name of protecting an allegedly endangered nation.
However, this does not imply a deterministic path dependency. Societies marked by these factors are not doomed. Poland is a good example. Despite being characterized by many of these conditions, the opposition managed to develop a counter-narrative in 2023 based on EU membership and its role in shaping Polish identity as part of the West. They also emphasized that PiS was jeopardizing this position through its authoritarian policies. This demonstrates that an inclusive counter-narrative is possible even in societies that are historically and structurally more prone to threat-driven narratives.
Another example, not covered in my book, is the United States. It is not marked by the same historical experiences of territorial or sovereignty loss, yet Donald Trump was able to construct a threat-driven narrative that resonated widely. This suggests that contemporary issues, such as immigration, can also serve as the basis for such narratives.
Ultimately, political agency plays a crucial role. It matters greatly whether the opposition is able to develop a counter-narrative that resonates with the public.
Inclusive Narratives Strengthen Democracy
You argue that democratic resistance must develop a nation-related counternarrative rather than ignore nationalism or try to outbid autocrats ethno-nationally. What distinguishes a democratic patriotic counternarrative from a merely softer version of authoritarian nationalism?
Dr. Filip Milacic: I would return to what I said at the beginning about “the three options.” Sometimes the opposition ignores this issue, but when it does not, it often tries to outbid the authoritarian incumbent or, as you mentioned, develops a softer ethno-nationalist alternative. I believe that is the wrong approach.
So how can we differentiate between trying to outflank the authoritarian incumbent and developing a genuine counter-narrative? It comes down to content. A counter-narrative must be inclusive. I am not suggesting that it needs to include 100 percent of the population, but it should be inclusive of a large majority. This is important not only for practical reasons, such as winning elections, but also because it is morally justified and helps define what an inclusive national narrative should be.
First, the choice of topic and its framing are crucial—they must be inclusive. Second, the purpose of the narrative differs. Threat-driven narratives are used to justify attacks on democracy. A counter-narrative should do the opposite: it should be designed to strengthen and safeguard democracy, rather than to serve as a justification for undermining it.
Political Agency Shapes Counter-Narratives
In Poland, Brazil, Israel, and Hungary, you identify cases where opposition actors used patriotic or nationally rooted language to mobilize resistance. What made these counternarratives persuasive, and why have similar efforts been weaker in cases such as Serbia, Turkey, India, or the United States?
Dr. Filip Milacic: For me, political agency is very important here. I conducted many interviews with political actors while researching my book, particularly from the opposition, and I identified two types of politicians. One group would say that the nation as a topic is not relevant and would therefore avoid addressing it. The second group would acknowledge its relevance but admit that they do not know how to develop a counter-narrative. This is why political agency matters so much.
I understand that developing a counter-narrative is not easy, but if a politician chooses to pursue it, some guidance can be offered. The first criterion is that the topic must be emotional, because this is the only way to mobilize people—not only in the streets but also at the ballot box. The topic may be drawn from national history, but it can also be something contemporary.
For example, in Brazil, President Lula frequently framed the contemporary international context—particularly the role of the United States—as a challenge to Brazilian sovereignty, portraying his opponents as aligned with external interests while presenting himself as a defender of national autonomy. The EU, in the case of Poland—and more recently Hungary—served as another contemporary reference point. Péter Magyar, for instance, framed the election as a choice between Hungary as a European, Western democracy or as what he called an Eastern autocracy. This illustrates how contemporary themes can be effective, although historical references can also play a powerful role.
The Israeli protest movement in 2023 provides another example. Protesters invoked the Israeli Declaration of Independence, emphasizing its vision of Israel as a liberal democracy. They argued that the government, by introducing authoritarian measures, was acting against this founding principle—that Israel is a state of all its citizens, regardless of ethnic or religious background.
These examples show that the choice of topic is highly context-dependent. Each opposition must draw on its own national context. In some cases, the economy can also be important. Where authoritarian incumbents mismanage the economy and corruption is widespread, as in Hungary, good governance can become a powerful basis for a patriotic narrative, as Magyar has demonstrated.
However, I am not suggesting that the economy is always decisive. In some contexts it matters, but not in all. For example, in Poland, GDP grew significantly during the PiS period, yet PiS was still voted out of office. This indicates that economic performance alone is not sufficient. Still, when combined with widespread corruption and public dissatisfaction, economic issues can provide a strong foundation for an inclusive and resonant counter-narrative.
Narratives Must Reinforce Community and Democratic Norms
If both ethno-national and pluralist identity claims can become grounds for democratic trade-offs, how should scholars distinguish between identity politics that strengthens liberal democracy and identity politics that weakens democratic resilience?
Dr. Filip Milacic: For me, the key issue is context. It also depends on whether identity politics is inclusive toward a large majority of citizens or whether it is exclusionary. We can, more or less, clearly distinguish between narratives that are inclusive and those that are exclusionary.
The second criterion is the purpose of these narratives. For authoritarian incumbents, the purpose is to justify attacks on democracy; such narratives serve as a cover for power grabs and as a means of legitimizing violations of democratic norms and principles. For pro-democratic opposition actors, the purpose is the opposite. Their narratives are not only aimed at defeating the authoritarian incumbent but also at strengthening democracy, reinforcing the political community, and protecting the elements of democracy that are under attack.
Politics Is a Battle of Narratives
And finally, Dr. Milacic, looking across Hungary, Poland, Israel, Serbia, Austria, Turkey, and the United States, what does democratic resilience require today: stronger institutions, better opposition strategy, more effective patriotic counternarratives, or a deeper rethinking of liberal democracy’s relationship to nationhood?
Dr. Filip Milacic: I would say all of the above. The struggle for democracy is fought on all of these fronts. However, if I may add, the focus has primarily been on the institutional dimension. This is understandable, as democratic backsliding involves the capture, weakening, or dismantling of institutions.
At the same time, the fight for democracy is also fought through words. We should therefore pay much greater attention to the narrative level. This is precisely what I try to do in my research: to explore how democracy can be defended through narratives. It is not only about electoral mobilization; it is also about strengthening democracy by showing people why it matters and why it is important in an emotionally compelling way. For a narrative to succeed, it must resonate emotionally.
I would also acknowledge that the other side—autocrats—is often more successful in this regard than democratic opposition actors. This is because democratic actors tend to focus primarily on output, on what democracy delivers. I am not suggesting that this is unimportant, but it is not sufficient. We also need to engage with authoritarian-leaning actors at the level of narratives. After all, politics is fundamentally a battle of narratives.
