Dr. Mara Nogueira is a Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London.

Dr. Nogueira: Brazil Did with Bolsonaro What the US Failed to Do with Trump

In an interview with ECPS, Dr. Mara Nogueira (Birkbeck, University of London) argues that Brazil’s decision to convict Jair Bolsonaro for plotting a coup marks a turning point in democratic accountability. “By convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy,” she says. Rejecting claims of judicial overreach, Dr. Nogueira stresses: “The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role.” She welcomes the unprecedented prosecution of both civil and military senior officers since the 1964–85 dictatorship, while warning that far-right actors are already mobilizing “judicial dictatorship” narratives. For her, the trial sends a crucial signal: “It’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état—and if you do so, you will face charges.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The conviction of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro to 27 years in prison for plotting a coup has generated both domestic turbulence and international controversy. While his lawyers denounce the ruling as politically motivated, and allies abroad echo claims of persecution, Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (STF) has framed the case as a necessary step to defend democracy against authoritarian threats. Against this backdrop, Dr. Mara Nogueira, Senior Lecturer in the School of Social Sciences at Birkbeck, University of London, reflects on the political and institutional meaning of Bolsonaro’s trial in an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS).

Dr. Nogueira underscores that the trial signals democratic resilience rather than overreach: “By convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy.” She contrasts Brazil’s approach to accountability with the United States, where Trump has avoided similar consequences: “You had the foot soldiers of the Capitol invasion going to jail, while Trump not only remained free but was also allowed to run for president and become president again.”

In her view, the STF has not exceeded its mandate but fulfilled it: “I think the evidence that Bolsonaro and his conspirators attempted a coup d’état is hard to ignore, so when a crime like that is committed, it needs to be punished. The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role.” Importantly, she welcomes the fact that not only Bolsonaro, but also senior officers are facing accountability for the first time since the 1964–85 military dictatorship. “Perhaps Brazil would have had a different history if that had been done sooner,” she notes.

At the same time, Dr. Nogueira remains cautious. She observes that far-right actors are already mobilizing the “judicial dictatorship” narrative: “What they want in this case, however, is impunity. The revenge is already underway, with Congress now voting to expand its protection against legal prosecution.” She also highlights the fragility of Brazilian democracy, pointing to Bolsonaro’s 2018 victory and the January 8, 2023, attack as symptoms of unresolved cleavages. Yet she stresses that the conviction sends a crucial signal: “It does not inoculate against authoritarian relapse, but it does send a message that it’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état, and if you do so, you will face charges.”

For Dr. Nogueira, Bolsonaro’s conviction represents both accountability and warning. Whether it deepens polarization or strengthens democratic institutions will depend on how political actors and society interpret this landmark moment.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. Mara Nogueira, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

Dissent Shows Democracy at Work, Not Dictatorship

Supporters of former Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro protest Supreme Court actions in his trial on Paulista Avenue, São Paulo, Brazil, August 3, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Dr. Mara Nogueira, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How do you interpret Justice Luiz Fux’s lone vote to absolve Bolsonaro on jurisdictional and evidentiary grounds—arguing lack of proof, improper venue, and unmanageable case files—within Brazil’s broader debates on lawfare? Even as a majority of Brazil’s Supreme Federal Court (STF) has now convicted Bolsonaro for leading a “criminal organisation” to plot a coup, could Fux’s reasoning still provide legal ammunition for appeals, annulment claims, or retrial efforts?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: For anyone following the trial closely, Fux’s vote was not a surprise, since he had been signaling this divergence with the reporting judge for a while. That said, his vote was surprising given his prior positions in the trial of the participants in the invasion of Congress on January 8, 2023, and his overall trajectory in the Supreme Court. So, it was unexpected when considered in light of his own trajectory rather than what was anticipated of him in this trial.

I think he attempted to give a technical veneer to an 11-hour vote that was eminently political. His judgment essentially shifted depending on who was being accused. He was clearly speaking to a wider audience rather than to his peers. But I don’t see his lone vote as an issue; on the contrary, in a democracy with functioning institutions, dissent is part of the process.

The fact that Fux was able to voice his dissent, contrary to what the far right argues, shows that there isn’t a dictatorship in Brazil. In a dictatorship, he wouldn’t be allowed to dissent or he would have faced persecution for doing so. Neither of those things happened. Instead, he is facing criticism from part of the public and being celebrated by others, which is not abnormal in any sense.

But I don’t think his vote changes anything. At the end of the day, Bolsonaro and his co-conspirators were convicted, and I believe, rightly so. In a highly politicized trial such as this, of course, Bolsonaro’s supporters will seize on anything to twist the facts and argue for his innocence. They will push as far as they can, but in the current context, I don’t see how this trial could be overturned, even if it went to the plenary.

That said, a future annulment would obviously depend on how the political landscape in Brazil evolves in the coming years, and it’s very hard to predict, in my opinion. The Supreme Court is not isolated from the broader political climate, and changes in its composition under, for instance, a future far-right government could have consequences. We only need to look at the US to see what that might look like. Still, I think that by convicting Bolsonaro, we are doing what the US should have done with Trump and moving in the right direction toward democracy.

Convicting Bolsonaro and the Military Officers Shows Institutions are at Work

With the STF asserting unprecedented authority—convicting a former president and top generals, placing Bolsonaro under house arrest, and wading into disinformation inquiries—does this expanded role bolster democratic resilience, or risk normalizing states of exception that revanchist actors can exploit as evidence of “judicial dictatorship”?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: As I already mentioned, by looking at the US, you can see the consequences of not prosecuting an attempted coup d’état. The US now has a president with unprecedented authority, backed by a Congress that is essentially on his side, and a very politically aligned Supreme Court. So, you can ask, where are the checks and balances in the US right now? Of course, I’m not an expert in American politics, but the current state of affairs seems to imply that the US president can do as he pleases, including attempts to influence judicial proceedings in a foreign country, as he is trying to do in Brazil.

I think the evidence that Bolsonaro and his conspirators attempted a coup d’état is hard to ignore, so when a crime like that is committed, it needs to be punished. The Supreme Court is not overstepping but rather fulfilling its role. And I see it positively that not only a former president but also the military are, for the first time in Brazil’s history, being convicted for attempting to abolish the democratic rule of law. Perhaps Brazil would have had a different history if that had been done sooner.

But as I said previously, the far right will attempt to exploit what happened to paint a picture that we live in, as you say, a judicial dictatorship. What they want in this case, however, is impunity. The revenge is already underway, with Congress now voting to expand its protection against legal prosecution, for instance. There is also ongoing discussion about a bill aimed at the participants of January 8. This bill is nicknamed the Amnesty Bill, though it should be called, in my opinion, the Impunity Bill, because what Congress is trying to do is to reinterpret the notion of amnesty to appease a political group and perhaps set, what I believe, would be a very dangerous precedent.

This idea that Fux mentioned in his speech—that the January 8 participants were a disorganized or unruly mob—is preposterous and ignores the broader context in which the invasion of Congress occurred. Yes, they were unable to overthrow the state, thank God, but they failed because the rest of the plot didn’t work out, and their leader, Bolsonaro, knowing the plan had failed, fled to the US.

All that said, I’m not a particularly optimistic person, and I am not a big fan of the kind of worship the Supreme Court judges are receiving these days, but in this instance, I think they are performing their duty, which is to safeguard the democratic rule of law in the country. A dictatorship would imply the suppression of other powers and an authoritarian ruler, and this is not what’s happening in Brazil right now. Only those living in far-right bubbles will interpret the context in that way.

No Crisis Between Government and Military Despite Convictions

Brazilian President Jair Bolsonaro during 74th Anniversary of Parachutist Infantry Battalion held at Military Village in Rio de Janeiro, Brazil on November 23, 2019. Photo: Celso Pupo

The conviction encompassed senior military officers for the first time since the 1964–85 dictatorship. How does this reshape Brazil’s civil–military relations, especially in a context where the armed forces remain politically salient and segments of society view them as guarantors of order?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: That’s quite an interesting point. Historically, the military has been behind all the successful coups in Brazil, and there have been several. So, as I already mentioned, I see it positively that after so many other instances, the military is finally facing legal consequences for its actions.

I’ve been following the media coverage of the trial very closely, and I don’t think, at least from my perspective, that this has been a major point of discussion. As far as I can tell, there is no crisis at the moment between the government and the military, or between the Supreme Court and the military, and perhaps that has to do with the surprising fact that the military played an important role in preventing this particular coup d’état from succeeding.

Just one of the military commanders, Almir Garnier Santos, who was the commander of the Navy under Bolsonaro, was convicted. Out of the three military commanders, he was the only one who went along with the plan. For many analysts, the coup failed because it didn’t have the support of the Army and Air Force commanders, who refused to join the plot.

Of course, they could have done more than just say no and could have denounced the coup, which would have given even more credibility to the trial. Still, their role in this case was ultimately positive, and that may help explain why the coup didn’t succeed, and also why the military has not been the main focus of media coverage or public discussion.

Brazil’s Democracy Is Fragile—But Functioning

As school curricula, memorials, and policing doctrines institutionalize January 8, 2023, how do these “memory practices” shape collective political identities? Do they inoculate against authoritarian relapse, or entrench binary cleavages that revanchist actors can instrumentalize?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I think it’s still very soon to say how this particular event will be narrated in Brazilian history. That’s yet to be seen. But if you take, for instance, the 1964 military coup, the military, to this day, celebrate the date as the day of the revolution. They call it the revolution rather than the military coup. Bolsonaro himself has praised prominent members of the military dictatorship, such as Carlos Alberto Brilhante Ustra, who was notorious for leading torture and repression during this period.

The dominant view of 1964 today, however, is that it was a coup d’état that installed a violent dictatorship in this country, which ended, in fact, quite recently—1985, as you say. It’s not the only view, but it is the one that students, for instance, will learn about in school.

As I said, democracy in Brazil is still young, and one might say it remains quite fragile. I see Bolsonaro’s victory in 2018, despite his authoritarian rhetoric, as a sign of that fragility. The fact that he and his core conspirators felt emboldened enough to attempt a coup also shows how fragile democracy is. But I don’t see his conviction as a demonstration of this fragility. On the contrary, in this instance, I see it as a sign that democratic institutions are working despite that fragility.

I am, like many other social scientists and observers, concerned with the political cleavages in Brazil, but I don’t think this is unique to Brazil right now. The far right is on the rise globally, and one could ask, for instance, whether January 8 in Brazil would have happened if the Capitol invasion hadn’t occurred in the US, or if the real leaders of the Capitol invasion had been punished. One could also ask what would have happened if Trump had been the US president in 2023.

I think punishment in Brazil’s case does not, as you say, inoculate against authoritarian relapse, but it does send a message that it’s not acceptable to plan a coup d’état, and that if you do so, you will face charges. That’s a good message for the country to be showing the world right now.

Tarcísio de Freitas Seeks to Inherit Bolsonaro’s Capital

São Paulo Governor Tarcísio de Freitas attends a pro-amnesty demonstration for former President Jair Bolsonaro in Copacabana, Rio de Janeiro, on March 16, 2025. Photo: Saulo Angelo.

Building on your work on “entitled anger,” how is middle-class resentment mobilized around the trial—particularly in claims that the STF has usurped sovereignty and thwarted the popular will?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: My work on revanchist populism and entitled anger is about the rise of far-right populism globally, and particularly in the Global South. Revanchist populism is a term that I coined with my colleague Ryan Centner. And what we are doing with this is describing what we see as a turn in political imaginations towards the retaking of the nation in line with a powerful discourse of “the people” and righteousness. And we see this mapping onto populations who nostalgically sense they have lost what was rightfully, morally theirs, which might be regained by applying an angry sense of entitlement to an alternative and often authoritarian exercise of government.

In this context, the Brazilian middle class has been particularly described as resentful and an important support base for the far right. But I don’t think alone middle-class resentment can explain recent political cleavages in Brazil. Going back to your question more specifically, as I already mentioned, of course, the Supreme Court decision will be mobilized by the far right to fuel particular understandings of the current political situation in Brazil. There is a group of die-hard Bolsonaro supporters that will buy into any narrative that the far-right leaders produce. But I don’t think the future of Brazilian politics depends on this particular group, but more on the voters who are moderate and will swing their vote depending on a broader understanding of the situation.

It’s clear from his more recent speeches that the current São Paulo governor, Tarcísio de Freitas, is trying to position himself as the heir of Bolsonaro’s political capital and the natural candidate of the far right in the next presidential election. Some of Bolsonaro’s electorate will naturally transfer to whoever he decides to support, and that is significant, but not enough to win the next election. We have to remember that Bolsonaro himself lost the last election to Lula—by a small margin, of course—but he still lost. So, what I think is under dispute is the interpretation of current events by this broader population, who are not loyal to either Lula or Bolsonaro.

And it’s interesting that you touch on sovereignty, because it’s a very hot topic in Brazil at the moment—not because of the Supreme Court decision, but because of Trump’s attempt to interfere with the judicial process in Brazil. Lula’s popularity has recently increased slightly because he was gifted this position of defender of Brazil’s sovereignty in response to Eduardo Bolsonaro’s lobbying that led Trump to raise tariffs on Brazilian products to 50%. So, in this context, it’s difficult for the far right to play the sovereignty card while conspiring with Trump to penalize Brazil’s economy.

Urban Poor in Brazil’s Peripheries Hold the Swing Vote

What spatial patterns (capitals vs. peripheries; South/Southeast vs. North/Northeast) do you observe in post-verdict mobilizations, and how do they map onto Brazil’s longer histories of regional inequality and uneven development?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I don’t have the data to comment specifically on the geography of how people are reacting to the trial, but if we look at Bolsonaro’s 2018 election, when he was victorious, we can find some evidence of the geographies of far-right voters and supporters in Brazil. The work of Matthew Richmond and Lisa McKenna, colleagues of mine, examined the geography of the votes in 2018.

The interesting thing here is that, unlike in the US, or in the case of the UK and Brexit, the geography of the vote in Brazil is not the traditional urban versus rural pattern. What their work pointed out is that the votes of the urban poor have been decisive in the last elections in Brazil. In particular, the votes of the urban poor in the peripheries of big cities have been swinging between the left and the right throughout the years. The explanation for this has to do with major changes in Brazilian society—from the growth of evangelical church influence to enduring criminality, which affects the urban poor more prominently, for instance.

In my own work, I have focused on changes in the global labor market and how they also play a role in the new political landscape that breeds the far right. Again, if you think of the case of the US and the UK, you see deindustrialization and the loss of stable jobs alongside austerity and neoliberalism, which have impoverished particular groups. Immigration, in these cases, has then been used as the far-right scapegoat to channel this entitled anger into votes.

In the case of Brazil, we have historically had a very stratified labor market with widespread precarity, and this has also grown as a consequence of neoliberalism and deindustrialization. But the traditional left in Brazil grew out of industrial trade unionism, and now there is this huge population of workers outside formal wage relations who don’t feel represented by these traditional left-wing narratives. So, when you think about geography, these spatial inequalities interact with wider social and economic dynamics, and my point is that if progressive politics doesn’t find ways to speak to this new workforce, far-right narratives offering simple solutions to complex problems can fill this gap.

With Bolsonaro confined to house arrest and restricted from social media, how has the street/platform nexus of contention shifted—especially regarding plazas, evangelical pulpits, WhatsApp/Telegram ecosystems, and diaspora mobilization in the US?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: All the arenas you mentioned have long been part of the political landscape in Brazil, and the far right has been very effective at capitalizing on social media, perhaps because their extreme language and rhetoric are well suited to generating engagement—the very thing that drives these platforms. I don’t see this scenario changing with Bolsonaro’s arrest. The main question at the moment, as I already said, is who will inherit Bolsonaro’s political capital and represent this far-right group in the next election.

The Left Must Speak to Precarious Workers or Risk Losing Them to the Far Right

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

How does the trial intersect with the politics of informal work and the gig economy? Are precarious workers—street vendors, delivery app couriers—recalibrating their partisan attachments in light of the conviction, or holding steady?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: Again, I think it’s very soon to say how particular groups of workers are reacting to the trial. We don’t have the data. But as I already mentioned, this mass of precarious workers that characterizes Brazil’s economy plays a key role in current affairs. Of course, they are more than workers, and they have other affiliations that might also impact their political behavior, but the point that I have been trying to make in my own work is that this group feels underrepresented in political debates.

The left tends to view informality solely as an issue of precarity and exploitation, and its responses to the growing changes in the experience of work have been inadequate. In my research, I focus on street vendors who have been criminalized by local governments and feel attacked by exclusionary policies that constrain their ability to work on the streets and earn a livelihood. The left’s response has been to insist on wage work and development as solutions that will eventually incorporate everyone into the regular labor market, but workers are not necessarily on board with that. People’s desires for autonomy and flexibility are often interpreted negatively, in this context, as signs that these workers have been indoctrinated by neoliberalism.

What we need to understand is that for a huge proportion of people in Brazil, wage work was historically either unattainable or represented a precarious inclusion through low-paying jobs, where people had to endure excessive hours and, more often than not, harassment and humiliation. For many, the far-right promise of disruption feels like a real hope for change. Globally, the far right has succeeded in large part because it taps into real suffering and mobilizes genuine frustration by offering the hope of disruption.

Moreover, in some ways, the left has become a conservative political force, protecting abstract values that do not necessarily resonate with people’s everyday struggles. The new realities of the labor market and of society at large demand bolder thinking and out-of-the-box policies that can address the challenges of people’s lived realities. For instance, Zohran Mamdani’s political platform for the New York City mayoral election is a good representation of what I’m talking about. In Belo Horizonte, Brazil, where I do most of my research, there is a bill up for a vote to implement free bus fare, which is also very interesting. So, there are some promising developments, and there is a progressive way out of this tough political landscape that we are living through.

Brazil’s 2026 Race Has Already Begun

Within Bolsonaro’s coalition, how are key pillars—evangelical leaders, police unions, agribusiness lobbies, military clubs—reframing their narratives after the verdict? What does this suggest about the durability or the recomposition of his revanchist base?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: It’s an interesting question. One day after Bolsonaro’s conviction, the Folha de São Paulo, one of Brazil’s most important newspapers, ran a headline on the twin deficit in Brazil and the dangers of Lula’s third mandate for the economy. What happened, essentially, is that Bolsonaro had become an issue, and his conviction was applauded by the major media because they wanted him out of the presidential race. But the big players you mentioned also don’t want a fourth Lula mandate.

In the lead-up to the 2022 election, there was an attempt by the major media to create the idea of a third way. Some had hoped, for instance, that João Doria, the former governor of São Paulo, or even Luciano Huck, a famous TV presenter in Brazil, would be presidential candidates to represent this third way and overcome Brazil’s polarization. But that didn’t happen, and I do not see it happening in 2026 either.

What I think will happen is a repositioning of political support. Tarcísio de Freitas, the current governor of São Paulo, seems to be the natural choice to replace Bolsonaro as Lula’s main opposition in this polarized economic and political landscape. But he will face a very difficult task in his campaign: essentially paying homage to Bolsonaro and capitalizing on his support, while at the same time trying to present himself as a more moderate and market-friendly politician. It will be a hard act for him to pull off.

How successful he is will also depend on what happens in Brazil between now and the election. There is already a sense that the presidential race has begun, and PT, Lula’s party, is currently treating Tarcísio as the main opposition.

Fux’s Vote Echoed the US Pattern of Punishing Followers but Acquitting Leaders

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

Do you observe unequal “graduations” of culpability—between January 8 “foot soldiers” and political principals—that echo Brazil’s broader selective enforcement of law (e.g., in housing or labor), thereby reinforcing perceptions of institutional bias?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: I don’t think so. I keep going back to the US, but I think it’s a useful parallel. That happened in the US: as you say, the foot soldiers of the Capitol invasion went to jail, while Trump not only remained free but was also allowed to run for president and become president again. If there is any echo of that in Brazil, it’s in Fux’s vote. As I said in the beginning, he voted for culpability for the January invaders but acquitted Bolsonaro, so his vote reflects a bit of that. But the Supreme Court decision has been coherent in the sense of condemning both the foot soldiers and what they perceive to be the leaders of this movement.

Lastly, Bolsonaro’s defenses—claims of witch-hunts, persecution, procedural overload—resonate with Trumpist repertoires. Where do Brazilian specificities (evangelical media ecosystems, military memory, police syndicates) create distinct discursive frames?

Dr. Mara Nogueira: In terms of the rhetoric, Bolsonaro’s entire act is very much aligned with Trump’s, so I don’t see much difference there. But of course, the content and the way he speaks to his political base are, as you say, shaped by Brazilian specificities, particularly the conservatism of his supporters. The differences between Brazil and the US have more to do with the essentially different composition of the two societies—social, economic, cultural, and, as we already discussed, geographical—and how Brazil differs from the US.

In terms of discursive frames, however, there is a kind of right-wing rhetoric that is common to different political leaders within this spectrum, modulated to speak to particular groups of supporters shaped by their culture and, in the case of Brazil, by religious positions within society.

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan watching the August 30 Victory Day Parade in Ankara, Turkey on August 30, 2014. Photo by Mustafa Kirazli.

Professor Barkey: Turkey Has Become a Full-Blown Authoritarian System

In an interview with the ECPS, Professor Henri Barkey—born in Turkey and one of the leading US experts on Middle East politics—warns that Turkey has crossed a decisive threshold under President Erdogan. “Turkey has now become a full-blown authoritarian system,” he stated, arguing that Erdogan has removed the “competitive” element from competitive authoritarianism by subordinating the judiciary, jailing rivals, and even deciding opposition party leadership. While repression deepens, Professor Barkey sees a paradox: “The system is becoming more authoritarian, but society may be resisting much more than we realize.” He highlights youth-led mobilization, fears over arrested Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu’s popularity, and Europe’s limited leverage, concluding that Erdogan’s overreach may ultimately galvanize opposition forces.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Henri Barkey, a leading scholar of Middle East politics who was born in Turkey, delivered a stark assessment of the country’s current trajectory under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan. “Turkey has now become a full-blown authoritarian system,” Professor Barkey stated, emphasizing that the transition from “competitive authoritarianism” to outright authoritarian rule marks a dangerous turning point.

Professor Barkey—Adjunct Senior Fellow for Middle East Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations and holder of the Bernard L. and Bertha F. Cohen Chair in International Relations at Lehigh University—has long studied Turkey’s political development. He previously directed the Middle East Center at the Wilson Center and served on the US State Department Policy Planning Staff during the Clinton administration.

Professor Barkey situated Erdogan’s consolidation of power within a broader historical and political context. Turkey’s modern history, he observed, has been marked by cycles of democratic openings and authoritarian retrenchment. Yet, despite repeated interruptions—from military coups to autocratic turns—“the Turkish public, by and large, has adapted and adopted a sense of democratic culture.” The resilience of ordinary citizens, he noted, remains a crucial counterweight to authoritarian encroachment.

At the heart of Professor Barkey’s argument is Erdogan’s dismantling of institutional safeguards. “He is turning Turkey into a complete authoritarian system because he controls the judiciary, and judges and prosecutors essentially do whatever he wants them to do,” Professor Barkey explained. Recent episodes—politically motivated trials, the dismissal of opposition leaders, and the manipulation of party leadership contests—demonstrate, in his view, the collapse of even the minimal competition that previously characterized Turkey’s hybrid regime. “In other words, Erdogan is now deciding who will lead the main opposition party.”

This tightening grip, however, is not without risk. Professor Barkey underscored a paradox: “There’s a kind of dialectic here: the system is becoming more authoritarian, but society may be resisting much more than we realize.” Millions of citizens, particularly the younger generations who have never known a Turkey without Erdogan, have mobilized in protests, demanding change. Professor Barkey noted that such resistance is difficult to gauge because “people are afraid to speak out” and reporting is restricted, but he insisted that “at some point, this is going to break.”

Erdogan’s own fear of rivals, especially Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu, reflects this tension. Professor Barkey argued that the regime’s extraordinary measures to sideline Imamoglu—ranging from imprisonment to retroactive annulment of his university degree—offer “the clearest demonstration that he’s terrified.”

Professor Barkey also highlighted the role of external actors in shaping Erdogan’s room for maneuver. In his view, former US President Donald Trump “doesn’t believe in democracy” and effectively gave Erdogan “carte blanche” at home by refusing to criticize his repression. Europe, for its part, remains uneasy with Erdogan’s authoritarian aims and worried about migration pressures, but Professor Barkey noted that Erdogan feels confident he can “withstand European pressure” while focusing on demolishing the opposition. Ultimately, the combination of a permissive US stance under Trump and Europe’s limited leverage has reinforced Erdogan’s sense of impunity.

Ultimately, Professor Barkey’s analysis suggests both danger and opportunity: the danger of entrenched authoritarianism, but also the possibility that Erdogan’s overreach may galvanize opposition forces. As he concluded, “Authoritarian leaders always make mistakes… and I think Erdogan is already making them.”

Professor Henri Barkey is an Adjunct Senior Fellow for Middle East Studies at the Council on Foreign Relations and holder of the Bernard L. and Bertha F. Cohen Chair in International Relations at Lehigh University.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Henri Barkey, lightly edited for clarity and readability.

Erdogan Realizes He’s Weak: People Are Fed Up and Want Change

Professor Henri Barkey, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Turkish President Erdogan has long relied on a blend of populist narratives and authoritarian tactics to consolidate power. Given the backlash over Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu’s imprisonment, the use of lawfare through corruption investigations, the appointment of trustees to CHP-led administrations, and the wave of nationwide anti-government protests, do you believe this strategy is now undermining rather than sustaining his authority? Could this moment mark a potential inflection point for his populist-authoritarian model?

Professor Henri Barkey: It’s interesting you say that, because I actually had a piece published in Foreign Affairs Online where I basically argued very strongly that Erdogan had made a terrible mistake by imprisoning the mayor of Istanbul, and I thought this was the end of Erdogan. Imamoglu is still in jail, and Erdogan is still the president, and he has gone ahead and imprisoned a lot more people—journalists and other members of the opposition party—and he is also trying to get rid of the leadership of the opposition party. 

But to me, all of these are indicators that he realizes, after 23 years in power, that people don’t want him anymore. He has actually lost public support, and he has to resort to these incredible machinations to stay in power. In other words, he realizes that if there were elections any time now, he would not be re-elected, and his party would lose. In fact, in the last municipal elections in 2024, the main opposition party came in comfortably—comfortably for Turkey—as number one, and his party came in second.

What is going on today in Turkey is that Erdogan realizes he’s weak. He has support—it’s not that he doesn’t have support—but of course, he has the state machine, which he can always mobilize to get anything he wants done. However, for him, it must be very difficult to accept that he, who used to be genuinely popular in Turkey and who won elections genuinely, is now losing support. People are fed up. People want change. And it’s natural. 

Imagine if you are 25, or maybe even 30 years old. All your conscious years have passed under one leader. People want change. So, it’s partially psychological, but partially also, of course, due to his responsibility for what’s going on in Turkey. The economy is not doing well. Inflation is high. He made terrible mistakes. And naturally, people want change.

The System Is Becoming More Authoritarian, but Society May Be Resisting

In your writings, you describe Erdogan’s evolution from a reformist leader promising EU-style democratization to a populist-authoritarian consolidating near-total power. How has this transformation shaped Turkey’s political trajectory and institutional resilience over the past two decades?

Professor Henri Barkey: Turkey—if you look at its modern history from World War II onwards—has experienced many different variations over the past 80 years. There have been democratic governments, military coups, and repeated interruptions in its political system. But what strikes me is that the Turkish public, by and large, has adapted and adopted a sense of democratic culture. Not perfect, not by any stretch of the imagination, but it exists. The Turkish public has a stake in elections and in the freedom to say what they want and to act as they wish.

Of course, there have been authoritarian periods—Turkey is going through one now—but you still see a certain resilience. The fact that 15 million people, after Istanbul Mayor Imamoglu was arrested, signed a petition to have him declared the candidate of the main opposition party is an incredible demonstration of people’s stake in the democratic system.

So, what’s happening is very interesting. On the one hand, underneath, there is this democratic culture. Again, I don’t want to exaggerate—it’s not perfect. But whose democratic system is perfect these days? Everything exists on a scale. What has happened in Turkey, however, is that Erdogan has essentially transformed the country into a, quote-unquote, “competitive authoritarian” system. Elections still take place, outcomes are largely determined, but there remains some element of competition. Certain offices may be won by the opposition, and the opposition can still win seats in Parliament, and so on.

But now he’s actually taking the competitive part out of competitive authoritarianism and eliminating it altogether. He is turning Turkey into a complete authoritarian system because he controls the judiciary, and judges and prosecutors essentially do whatever he wants them to do. We have seen people sent to jail for no reason whatsoever—simply because he doesn’t like them. Authorities have claimed that the main opposition party engaged in questionable practices in its primaries or conventions, and suddenly the justice system decides that leaders who were elected a few years ago should no longer hold their positions, and someone else should replace them. In other words, Erdogan is now deciding who will lead the main opposition party.

This is partly because he is clearly afraid of the current leadership, and especially of the mayor of Istanbul, who is in jail. Turkey has now become a full-blown authoritarian system, and I don’t think this is going to end well. By that, I mean authoritarian leaders always make mistakes, because there is never anyone around them to say, “Mr. President, Mr. Prime Minister, you shouldn’t do this; there may be consequences.” People always agree with them. So of course, mistakes are inevitable.

And I think Erdogan is already making mistakes. He has galvanized the opposition in a way that, if truly free elections were held today, he would be seriously doubted—he would not win. People can see that what he is doing is deeply unjust.

So there’s a kind of dialectic here: the system is becoming more authoritarian, but society may be resisting much more than we realize. It’s hard to see this resistance all the time because of restrictions—even on reporting. People are afraid to speak out. But at some point, this is going to break.

Imamoglu’s Jail Proves Erdogan’s Fear

Ekrem Imamoglu
Istanbul Mayor Ekrem Imamoglu addresses supporters during a protest under the banner “The Nation Stands by Their Will” outside the Istanbul Metropolitan Municipality on December 15, 2022. Photo: Tolga Ildun

The mass protests following Imamoglu’s arrest have been driven largely by younger generations who have never known a Turkey without Erdogan. How significant is this demographic factor in shaping the country’s political future, and do you see parallels with youth-led anti-authoritarian movements elsewhere?

Professor Henri Barkey: As I alluded to earlier, if you are 30 years old, Erdogan became your Prime Minister when you were 7 or 8 years old. I’m picking age 30 as an example, but imagine: all your conscious years you’ve seen one leader. And the other thing, of course, is that in terms of the communication systems—television, radio, newspapers—they are completely dominated by Erdogan in Turkey. So, you wake up to Erdogan, you go to bed with Erdogan.

And I’m not saying there isn’t a youth that actually supports Erdogan—there is. But there is certainly a youth that says, “Look, we would like to see somebody else.” In 2023, during the national elections, the main opposition party presented as a presidential candidate Mr. Kemal Kilicdaroglu, who was unimaginative, did not appeal to the youth, and gave them no reason to galvanize. Now, for the first time in a long time, you have a leader on the opposition side. People criticize him, and that’s fine—he’s not perfect—but he has managed to capture the youth’s imagination. You see a great deal of mobilization, and that’s why they put him in jail.

Erdogan has many different court cases against him to keep him in jail. And in which country do you see a political leader arrested like this? He didn’t commit murder, he hasn’t done anything dangerous. But he has been in jail since March 19th. It’s been almost six months now, and he’ll be in jail for a very long time, because they don’t let you out—as if you were an axe murderer about to kill people. Journalists and others stay in jail for one or two years, and then suddenly maybe they decide to let you go, find you innocent, but you’ve already spent two years in jail.

We’ve seen this, of course, in the cases of the Kurdish political leader Selahattin Demirtas or the civil society leader Osman Kavala—they’ve been in jail for no reason whatsoever. And in the case of the mayor of Istanbul, they even annulled his university degree 30 years after he got it. Imagine if somebody decided to find some technicality and say, “Oh, my university degree is invalid, and therefore everything else I’ve done since then is invalid.” You can’t do that. But they come up with excuses to prevent an opponent from running against Erdogan.

The fact that Erdogan goes to such lengths to stop Imamoglu from running tells you how afraid he is of him. To me, that’s the best proof, the clearest demonstration, that he’s terrified.

Imamoglu’s Jail Time Only Raised His Standing

A photo from the mass CHP rally in Istanbul on March 29, 2025, protesting the unlawful detention of Ekrem Imamoglu, organized by party leader Ozgur Ozel. The event brought AKP and opposition supporters face to face. Photo: Elif Aytar.

Imamoglu’s repeated electoral victories and rising popularity have made him Erdogan’s most formidable rival. By imprisoning him and pursuing politically motivated trials, has Erdogan inadvertently elevated Imamoglu into a symbol of democratic resistance, similar to Erdogan’s own trajectory after his imprisonment in the late 1990s?

Professor Henri Barkey: He is smart enough to have realized that he owes his popularity, at least in part, to the fact that, as mayor of Istanbul, he was kicked out of his job and spent a short time in prison. That actually enhanced his standing. Moreover, if you remember, not in 2024 but in the previous municipal elections, Imamoglu won with a small majority. Then the Erdogan government came up with an excuse, claiming irregularities in the elections, and ordered that they be held again. People saw through it. What happened? Imamoglu won by a much larger margin against the same candidate. Why? Because people were angered by Ankara’s political interference in their choices. Even those who did not vote for Imamoglu the first time decided to vote for him the second, just to punish Erdogan.

Anyone should have learned that lesson. He hasn’t. The alternative, of course, is that he knows the lesson, and this time he intends to prevent Imamoglu from running. He will find him guilty and keep him in jail so that he can go into the next elections unopposed. He is also trying to destroy the opposition party, aiming for it to nominate, or to be led by, the candidate who ran against him in 2023, because he knows he can outmaneuver him and thinks this is the way to secure another term.

So, I think that’s his intention. I believe he’s made up his mind. He knows he can’t beat Imamoglu, but he can beat the new CHP leadership. And unfortunately, we will see a lot more people going to jail.

Erdogan Wants to Take the Competitive Part Out of Politics

Opposition party deputies, members and the members of civil society organisations had to guard the ballots for days to prevent stealing by the people organized by Erdogan regime in Turkey. The photo was shared by opposition deputy Mahmut Tanal’s Twitter account @MTanal during the Turkish local elections on March 31, 2019.

We’ve seen Erdogan’s government dismiss elected CHP mayors, replace them with trustees, and initiate corruption investigations against opposition-led municipalities. To what extent does this strategy reflect a deliberate effort to transform Turkey into a de facto one-party state, and could it ultimately backfire by strengthening opposition solidarity?

Professor Henri Barkey: I think my previous answers essentially say yes, of course. But you’ve noticed he’s now doing something else. He’s putting pressure on individual mayors of localities and forcing them to change parties and join his party. I saw today—though I forget where—that a deputy mayor was resigning from the main opposition party and joining Erdogan’s party. You can imagine the kind of pressure they must be exerting enourmous force her to do that, because it doesn’t make sense, when CHP is running high, to switch parties. But we’ve seen a number of cases like that.

So he’s not going to completely eliminate the main opposition party; he’s going to completely weaken it. He will make it what it was, let’s say, five years ago, before the opposition’s rejuvenation—when it won a few municipalities and a number of seats in Parliament, but had no influence and couldn’t do anything.

What’s very interesting is that all these corruption investigations have been initiated against opposition parties, opposition mayors, and sub-mayors. Not a single AKP mayor—or municipality—has been similarly treated. Can you really tell me there’s no corruption on the AKP side? No, but they’re all part of the system. That’s what I’m saying.

What Erdogan wants is to take the competitive part out of Turkey’s politics, because in his mind it should no longer be competitive. So it’s going to be only authoritarian. He’s turning Turkey into an authoritarian state.

Erdogan Cannot Control the Exiled Opposition Abroad

With the judiciary, media, and much of the bureaucracy subordinated to the presidency, are there any institutional safeguards left to counterbalance Erdogan’s authority? To what extent has the post-2016 purge of alleged Gulen-affiliated judges, prosecutors, academics, media, and civil servants accelerated Turkey’s democratic backsliding and hollowed out state capacity?

Professor Henri Barkey: Today the judiciary is completely under Erdogan’s control. If a judge rules in a way that Erdogan does not appreciate, he gets kicked out and sent somewhere else. The same applies to prosecutors. And there must be an internal state security apparatus that keeps tabs on all of these people, so that whenever pressure is needed, it can be applied.

So what’s left? What is the source of opposition today? I think, to a large extent, it’s the online environment—whether internet newspapers, journalists, or individuals with blogs and podcasts. Whenever Erdogan feels pressured, he tries to throttle the internet, slow it down, or impose bans on opposition networks by preventing them from broadcasting online. And they don’t have any other outlet, since they are not allowed to appear on mainstream television.

But that’s very hard to sustain all the time. It looks bad, and it can actually increase opposition if overused. When you slow down the internet, you slow it down for everyone—including people who simply want to buy things online. So it’s not clear to me that this is a viable long-term strategy. It’s more temporary and occasional. He did it this week with X, or Twitter.

So the online space remains, essentially, the main source of opposition. And you also have in Turkey a large number of journalists, academics, and public figures who are actively opposing him. This is what I meant earlier: there is still an element of democratic culture.

Now, you mentioned the Gulen movement. I know people who were professors at Gulen-owned universities. They were perfectly good academics, with international reputations, publishing internationally. They were not necessarily Gulenists. If you get a job at a university, you get it through established structures and processes. Yet all these people lost their jobs and became unemployable. That was a major blow to Turkish civil society and to the country’s intellectual world.

The Gulen movement was defeated, yes. But parts of it should not have been touched—for example, the universities. And by the way, I don’t know exactly what happened during the coup. To me, the coup remains an enigma. Maybe Gulenists were involved, but I think there were other factors as well. I suspect Erdogan knew ahead of time that a coup was coming, and when it happened, he took advantage of it. In the process, many people were smeared without due process.

This is something Turkish society will one day have to come to terms with. Gulenists who were guilty, yes—but not everyone was necessarily a Gulenist. And many suffered a great deal.

Another source of opposition, by the way, may be Turks who have emigrated to Europe. Yes, there is a large pro-Erdogan community abroad that tries to organize support. But there are also many dissenters now living in Europe, the United States, and elsewhere. They are a major source of opposition—and unlike in Turkey, Erdogan cannot control them, because he cannot throw them into jail.

You Can’t Have Democracy in Diyarbakir and Fascism in Istanbul

A Turkish man in Hyde Park, London, shows support for protesters in Istanbul following the eruption of nationwide demonstrations—Turkey’s largest anti-government unrest —challenging then-Prime Minister Recep Tayyip Erdoğan’s authority in June 2013. Photo credit: Ufuk Uyanik.

The PKK’s recent renunciation of armed struggle and ongoing talks involving Abdullah Ocalan and the DEM party suggest potential openings for renewed negotiations. How do you interpret Erdogan’s ambivalence toward these developments? Could a genuine Kurdish peace process pave the way for democratization, or is it more likely to be instrumentalized for political survival?

Professor Henri Barkey: To me, this is a very interesting situation because, with your question about democratization, how can you have… as a Kurdish leader once said, very correctly: you can’t have democracy in Diyarbakir and fascism in Istanbul. That is to say, what does it mean to democratize? Turkey needs to democratize. Turkey needs to deal with the Kurdish question. Turkey has to recognize that there are people who are not Turks, who have a different language, who would like to live as Turkish citizens but would also like to be able to express themselves in their own language or in any other fashion, and not have to go to jail for that.

The fact that the PKK has decided to renounce armed struggle is a good thing. They should have done it a long time ago, because the armed struggle wasn’t going anywhere. They had been completely defeated. They were just up in the northeast of Iraq, in the Qandil Mountains, stuck there with 158 Turkish bases in northern Iraq that completely dominate the area. One or two attacks a year is not what’s going to make the PKK the PKK. So the PKK was defeated, and they finally came to this realization. It’s good that they abandoned it. But I don’t think there is going to be a peace process. I don’t think this is going to go anywhere.

Because, first of all, Erdogan himself doesn’t believe in democracy. I mean, what did the opposition, the DEM party, say they want? They didn’t ask for anything specific. They would like, of course, prisoners to be released. They want to deal with what to do with the fighters who are abroad, in Iraq, who would like to be able to integrate into society. But basically, what the leadership has said so far is that they want democracy. They want to be able to participate. But this is not something Erdogan wants. Everything Erdogan is doing is, as I said, taking the “competitive” out of competitive authoritarianism and establishing a completely authoritarian state. So this is not going to work.

Now, it turns out that on the Kurdish side, the main leader who’s in jail—Ocalan—doesn’t happen to be a democrat either. So it’s a big question mark. He’s 80 years old now. He must be thinking about his legacy, and that’s why he’s trying to… but he also can’t make a deal that is going to be rejected by the democrats in Turkey. So he’s also stuck. I’m sure Erdogan’s idea was probably to convince the DEM party to vote for either a constitutional change, or more likely for early elections, that Erdogan would make sure he would win. That’s probably still his plan.

Bahceli’s Gamble on Kurdish Talks Faces Dead End

The one interesting question mark here is that, to a large extent, this whole process started with an initiative from Erdogan’s main right-wing coalition partner, the MHP, led by Devlet Bahceli, who used to be the most anti-Kurdish figure in Turkey. He said Ocalan should not be released, but should come to the Turkish Parliament and address Parliament. That was really an amazing statement by him, and he pushed the process.

I wonder if Mr. Bahçeli, who’s at the end of his life and has run the party without much to show for his years in power or as a party leader—what has he done, what has he accomplished?—maybe that was his way of creating an inheritance, if you will, for his followers: that he would bring domestic peace to Turkey. Well, if that’s his incentive, that’s fine. It doesn’t matter how you get there, as long as you do it.

So the big problem Erdogan has is: to what extent is Mr. Bahceli committed to continuing the process? And Mr. Bahceli himself must realize that, the way things are going now, the DEM party is not going to be able to make a deal with Erdogan. There will be talks—we’re going to see a commission has been created, supposedly there will be conversations—but this is not going anywhere. And in the meantime, Erdogan is destroying CHP, and this puts the DEM party in a terrible situation.

Trump Gave Erdogan Carte Blanche

Nested dolls depicting authoritarian and populist leaders Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and Recep Tayyip Erdogan displayed among souvenirs in Moscow on July 7, 2018. Photo: Shutterstock.

And lastly, Professor Barkey, given Washington’s strategic interests—from NATO cohesion to cooperation with Syrian Kurdish forces—how should the US and EU respond to Erdogan’s escalating repression of the opposition? Would stronger political and economic pressure risk reinforcing his anti-Western populist narrative, or is greater confrontation inevitable?

Professor Henri Barkey: Let’s be honest here. What Erdogan has done since March would not have happened if you had a different president of the United States. Here you have Trump, who is upset about Bolsonaro getting tried, and he imposes sanctions even on the judge who is judging him. And then he has not said a word about what’s going on in Turkey. Trump doesn’t believe in democracy. Trump is only interested in himself and his own interests. So, he’s decided that he likes Erdogan, and he can do business with Erdogan, and therefore, Erdogan can do whatever he wants. And that’s what Erdogan is doing.

Let’s say Biden or Kamala Harris had been at the White House today. Erdogan would not have done any of these things, because the US government would have really pushed very hard. Whether it was investments or any other type of help that the Turks would need, they would not get.

The Turkish economy is in terrible shape. Inflation is much higher than the official figures indicate, and it’s still at 30% for a modern economy. The Turkish economy may be in better shape structurally, but I think it is still fairly dynamic. You go to Europe, you see Turkish exports everywhere—and I’m not just talking about tomatoes and agricultural products. I’m talking about sophisticated products, industrial products, electronic products. The Turkish economy has a number of advantages that probably would do a lot better with improved economic management from Ankara. But it has still managed to perform not poorly, given the circumstances.

Biden, or a Democratic president, or even a Republican president who cares about this—I mean, George Bush would have been up in arms about it. Trump has given Erdogan essentially carte blanche. And this is why we have not seen any major Turkish incursions into northern Syria.

Now, it’s not that Trump is attached to the Syrian Kurds. He couldn’t care less about them. But Trump would like to take American troops out of Syria, while also realizing that ISIS is on the mend, ISIS is getting stronger, and he doesn’t want a major ISIS insurrection again like what happened back in 2014. So he’s probably still thinking about it and has decided to reduce the number of troops, but not pull them out. As a result, Erdogan hasn’t gone into Syria.

But the truth is, the Syrian Kurds do not threaten Turkey. It’s just something in some Turks’ minds, and it’s a way of galvanizing the population behind you. The Kurdish problem in Turkey is a long-standing one, and there are many people who still don’t trust the Kurds. And Syrian Kurds are Syrians—people forget that. The Turks complain that Syrian Kurds control a large chunk of territory. Yes, they do. They happen to be Syrian Kurds, by the way. Turkey itself controls an enormous chunk of Syrian territory in the northwest—as big as Lebanon. But that’s okay, Turkey can do that. So you have these anomalies.

Erdogan is careful, because with Trump you don’t know from one day to the next how he might turn on you. So Trump is letting him do everything he wants to do in Turkey, but doesn’t want him to go into Syria and mess things up there. Fine—Erdogan can live with that. So Erdogan is quite happy.

Erdogan Thinks He Can Withstand European Pressure

The Europeans are very unhappy with what’s happening in Turkey, because they realize what Erdogan’s aims are. And you’ve had a huge exodus of Turks who’ve gone to Europe, escaping the Erdogan regime. The immigration problem from the rest of the world through Turkey to Europe has always been Erdogan’s carte majeure. But whatever Europeans do or threaten, Erdogan is going to ignore, because he essentially thinks he has maybe 6 to 12 months in which he has to focus on defanging or demolishing the opposition party. Once he is done with that, he won’t do anything else. So he thinks he can withstand European pressure for this long.

The interesting thing about Trump is that there’s a way in which people are also afraid of him because of his unpredictability and his very tough talk. It doesn’t always mean anything—the Chinese have seen it, and the Russians know exactly how to react—but they’re big powers. Everybody else is afraid. I’ll give you an example. It’s a minor one, but the day before yesterday, the Iraqi Shia militia released an American researcher, Elizabeth Tsurkov, whom they had been holding for two years. They kidnapped her. And I think the only reason they released her—and this is why Trump’s craziness pays off—is that he probably threatened the Iraqi government and said, “You don’t get this person out…” And the Iraqi government said, well, they are the Shia militias, we don’t have control over them. And he probably said, “I know you have control over them, I know you can do it, do it now.” Biden and the Kamala Harris government have not tried very hard to get her out.

So Trump’s unpredictability is why Erdogan has to be careful. As long as Trump gives him, as I said, carte blanche at home, Erdogan is very happy, and he can get away with it. What’s more important to him? Winning the election, staying in power for another term. That’s all he cares about.

So the answer to your question is that not much is going to happen. The Europeans are not going to be very successful. Now, if Turkey were to go through a major economic crisis again, with major demonstrations and instability, that could be different. But given how the whole region is at the moment, I don’t think that’s in the cards right now. The Europeans are going to continue doing some business, they’ll put some constraints on Turkish economic exchanges, but there’s only so much they can do. They can criticize the Turks, but the Turks don’t care. Or I should say, the Turkish government doesn’t care. Erdogan has essentially won.

Photo: Dreamstime

Capitalist Disruptions and the Democratic Retreat: A US–EU–China Comparison

Please cite as:

Ozturk, Ibrahim. (2025). “Capitalist Disruptions and the Democratic Retreat: A US–EU–China Comparison.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). September 11, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000116

 

Abstract

The accelerating erosion of regulatory safeguards, widening wealth inequality, entrenched elite influence, and the proliferation of surveillance regimes mark a new phase in the global crisis of corporate capitalism—one that is narrowing the normative and institutional gap between liberal democracies and authoritarian states. Building on Karl Polanyi’s notion of the double movement and Fernand Braudel’s distinction between market exchange and capitalist domination, this article develops a comparative political economy framework to examine how structural disruptions in capitalism are reshaping global governance and fueling the rise of populist authoritarianism. The analysis contrasts the institutional trajectories of the United States, the European Union, and China, highlighting both convergent and divergent patterns in their responses to this systemic crisis. By integrating insights from political economy, comparative governance, and authoritarian studies, the paper advances a theoretical synthesis that explains the mechanisms of “authoritarian convergence” without reducing them to a deterministic path. It concludes that resisting this drift requires re-embedding markets within democratic institutions and forging a renewed, inclusive global social contract capable of constraining both corporate and state power.

Keywords: Corporate Capitalism, Authoritarian Convergence, Populism, Democratic Backsliding, Karl Polanyi, Double Movement, Fernand Braudel, Global Governance, Inequality, Regulatory Failure, Comparative Political Economy

By Ibrahim Ozturk*

1. Introduction: Capitalism, Crisis, and the Convergence of Systems

With the collapse of central planning and the global decline of communist ideology in the early 1990s—preceded by the wave of neoliberal deregulation in the early 1980s associated with the so-called Washington Consensus—liberal democracies came to be viewed not only as models of modern governance, marked by openness, transparency, and institutional pluralism, but also as systems capable of guiding countries such as China and, later, Russia toward a liberal worldview grounded in free-market economics and democratic governance.

After an initial period of reform—primarily in the economic sphere—beginning in China in the early 1980s and later in Russia in the early 1990s, developments appeared to support the anticipated trajectory of convergence, broadly continuing until the mid-2000s. However, the post-2008 Great Stagnation marked a decisive turning point, dispelling the “liberal fallacies” rooted in overoptimism and ideological faith in inevitable convergence. Not only did several countries once expected to converge begin diverging from liberal democratic norms, but many established democracies with market economies also started adopting features traditionally associated with authoritarian governance. Moreover, regimes long regarded as illiberal—such as China and Russia—demonstrated remarkable adaptability by integrating market mechanisms, digital innovation, and populist rhetoric into their authoritarian rule. Taken together, these developments underscore that liberal and authoritarian regimes are not merely coexisting but, in significant ways, are converging.

That is, as liberal regimes increasingly adopt features characteristic of illiberal governance, illiberal regimes have, in turn, successfully integrated into the market and globalization processes driven by corporate capitalism, while maintaining their authoritarian political systems. This two-way process—referred to in this article as reverse convergence—is rooted in a common underlying factor: the systemic crisis of corporate capitalism.

Economic activity, which ought to be embedded within society and regarded as an integral part of social life (Polanyi, 1944; Braudel, 1982; Block, 2003; Sandel, 2012), has instead come to be perceived as a narrow, detached sphere shaped by the immunization of the corporate capitalism (Greider, 1992 & 2003) through “financial fundamentalism” that Vickrey (1998) warned against. Increasingly, it is viewed as a domain dominated by elites, operating contrary to the broader public interest—or at least perceived as such by large segments of society.

Especially in the aftermath of the 2008 financial crisis, this perception has fueled a countermovement marked by diverse forms of critique. Despite their ideological differences, these critiques converge on a common theme: the call to restore the will of the “virtuous people” against unaccountable elites (Mudde, 2004; Laclau, 2005; Müller, 2016; Norris & Inglehart, 2019)—a formulation closely aligned with the core definition of populism. In this sense, the global reaction against corporate capitalism has been effectively appropriated and redirected by authoritarian populist forces (Fraser, 2017; Zuboff, 2019; Piketty, 2020; Brown, 2019).

Recent political and economic developments in the United States (US), the European Union (EU), and China—where these transformations are particularly pronounced—reflect dynamics long anticipated by scholars, most notably Karl Polanyi (1944) and Fernand Braudel (1984). Polanyi, through his concept of the “double movement,” explored how societies historically respond to the destabilizing effects of unregulated markets by demanding protective social and political countermeasures. Braudel, in turn, distinguished between market economies and hierarchical capitalism, highlighting how modern economic elites operate within spheres largely insulated from democratic accountability.

More recently, these foundational frameworks have been extended by scholars analyzing the rise of digital capitalism. Zuboff’s (2019) theory of surveillance capitalism, Wark’s (2019) notion of the vectoralist class, and Varoufakis’s (2023) concept of techno-feudalism each offer critical insights into how corporate power, digital infrastructures, and state capture are reshaping the structures of political authority. Building on the approaches of Polanyi and Braudel, this article investigates how structural transformations in global capitalism—particularly under the pressures of digitalization, the expansion of cyberspace, rising wealth and income inequality, and the ensuing populist backlash—have increasingly blurred the boundaries between regime types.

This study uses comparative case analysis to examine the US, EU, and China as key regions where the disruptions caused by corporate capitalism align with the rise of authoritarian populist strategies. Each case offers a unique way of managing, challenging, or exploiting the structural pressures of global capitalism. Through this comparative approach, the paper aims to explain why and how different political systems are increasingly adopting illiberal norms, such as centralized authority, elite entrenchment, and norm erosion, even as they officially support divergent ideologies.

The structure of the paper is outlined as follows. After this introduction, the next section details the theoretical framework behind the concept of reverse convergence. Section 2 examines the contributions of Polanyi, Braudel, and other key scholars, situating their ideas within the context of current global trends. Section 3 presents a comparative empirical analysis of governance patterns in the US, the EU, and China, utilizing policy documents, governance indicators, and regulatory frameworks. The final section presents the normative implications of these findings in a nutshell. The article ends with key policy implications and recommendations.

Read Full Article Here

Photo: Shutterstock.

Virtual Workshop Series — Session 1: The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism around the World

Please cite as:
ECPS Staff. (2025). “Virtual Workshop Series — Session 1: The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism around the World.” European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). September 6, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/rp00113

 

The ECPS, in collaboration with Oxford University, launched its Virtual Workshop Series on “The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism around the World” on September 4, 2025. Spanning 16 sessions through April 2026, the series examines how populist strategies reshape democracy across diverse contexts. Chaired by Professor Oscar Mazzoleni, the opening session featured Professor David Sanders’ keynote on six structural drivers fueling populism and its growing threats to liberal democracy. Case studies explored populist dynamics in the US, India, Greece, Thailand, and Argentina, highlighting intersections of dynasties, corporate power, elite cues, and economic crises. Discussant Dr. João Ferreira Dias emphasized three takeaways: populism as performance, polarization over persuasion, and the enduring impact of national political cultures.

Reported by ECPS Staff

The European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), in collaboration with Oxford University, inaugurated its Virtual Workshop Series with the opening session, “The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism around the World,” held on Thursday, September 4, 2025. Spanning 16 sessions from September 2025 to April 2026, the programme brings together leading scholars to examine the contested meanings of “the people” and their pivotal role in shaping the trajectory of democracy across diverse political, cultural, and institutional settings. Designed as a continuation of the successful three-day in-person conference at St. Cross College, Oxford University (July 1–3, 2025) — “‘We, the People’ and the Future of Democracy: Interdisciplinary Approaches,” — the series deepens and extends those debates, fostering comparative, cross-disciplinary dialogue on democratic backsliding, resilience, and transformation in a rapidly shifting global landscape.

Opening on behalf of ECPS, Stella Schade outlined the series’ comparative and cross-disciplinary ambition: to move beyond regional silos and examine how populist projects travel, adapt, and entrench themselves within distinct political and media ecologies.

Chaired by Professor Oscar Mazzoleni (University of Lausanne), a leading authority on populism and party systems, the session framed populist authoritarianism not as a single doctrine but as a repertoire of strategies—discursive, organizational, and institutional—deployed under diverse conditions. 

Professor David Sanders (University of Essex, Emeritus) set the analytical agenda with a wide-ranging keynote that argued populism poses greater risks to liberal democracy today than in earlier cycles, owing to transnational diffusion of tactics and the erosion of shared standards of truth. He identified six structural drivers—declining left–right anchors, post-truth dynamics, politicized immigration, identity fragmentation, globalization’s discontents, and norm subversion through strategic learning—and outlined five fronts for democratic response, from inclusive immigration policy and rebalanced rights discourse to retooled economic governance, renewed state capacity, and robust platform regulation.

The panel that followed translated these themes into concrete case studies. Dr. Dinesh Sharma and Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich (Fordham University) traced the entanglement of family dynasties, corporate finance, and “outsider” populist narratives in India and the United States, highlighting the paradox whereby leaders mobilize anti-elite sentiment while constructing elite power networks of their own. 

Professor Gregory W. Streich and Dr. Michael Makara (University of Central Missouri) examined how elite cues and out-group framing shape opinion formation, showing that populist endorsements polarize more than they persuade and exert greatest influence on low-salience issues where prior beliefs are weak. 

Professor Akis Kalaitzidis (University of Central Missouri) offered a comparative analysis of Thailand, Argentina, Greece, and the United States to argue that economic dislocations catalyze distinct populist trajectories, each filtered through national political cultures and institutional constraints. 

Professor Elizabeth Kosmetatou (University of Illinois Springfield), in joint work with Kalaitzidis, revisited the Papandreou era to illuminate how charismatic leadership, clientelism, and European integration jointly reconfigured Greece’s political economy, leaving a durable imprint on state capacity and party competition.

Serving as discussant, Dr. João Ferreira Dias synthesized the contributions around three cross-cutting claims: populism functions as performance more than program; polarization, not persuasion, is its primary mass effect; and national political cultures mediate how populist styles are institutionalized. His commentary linked micro-level mechanics (elite cues, media incentives) to macro-level outcomes (executive aggrandizement, clientelist normalization), underscoring the session’s central lesson: understanding populist authoritarianism requires attention to both the technologies of mobilization and the structures that enable their entrenchment. 

As the series unfolds, ECPS and its partners will continue to probe these dynamics comparatively, asking not only how democracies backslide, but also how they can be renewed.

 

Prof. Oscar Mazzoleni, Prof. David J. Sanders, Dr. Dinesh Sharma, Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich, Assoc. Prof. Dr. Michael Makara, Prof. Gregory W. Streich, Prof. Akis Kalaitzidis, Prof. Elizabeth Kosmetatou, and Dr. João Ferreira Dias are seen on the workshop’s Zoom screen.

Introductory Speech by Professor David J. Sanders: From Post-Truth to Power—Risks and Remedies

The session began with a keynote intervention by Professor David Sanders (Regius Professor of Political Science, University of Essex, Emeritus), a renowned scholar of political behavior and public opinion. Framing the discussion for the subsequent panel presentations, Professor Sanders delivered a wide-ranging and analytically rich lecture on the global rise of populist authoritarianism, examining its causes, dangers, and potential counterstrategies. Speaking in an urgent yet measured tone, Professor Sanders argued that populism has always posed risks to democratic stability, but it is “more dangerous now than ever before.” He attributed this heightened threat to the increasing transnational interconnectedness of populist actors, who share strategies, rhetoric, and institutional models across borders, accelerating the erosion of democratic norms. His lecture was structured around three central questions: Why has support for populism grown so dramatically? Why is populism especially dangerous for contemporary democracies? What can be done to contain its advance?

Explaining the Rise of Populism: Six Structural Drivers

Professor Sanders identified six interrelated drivers behind the global surge of populism, focusing primarily on Europe and North America but emphasizing broader international patterns.

The Decline of Left-Right Political Anchors: Professor Sanders argued that traditional left-right ideological cleavages have eroded, especially since the collapse of Soviet communism in 1990. With voters less able to situate themselves within stable ideological frameworks, political affiliations have become fluid, creating fertile ground for populist appeals. “Without these anchors,” Professor Sanders noted, “voters are far more susceptible to movements promising simple answers to complex problems.”

The Rise of Post-Truth Politics: The fragmentation of epistemic authority has, in Professor Sanders’ view, created a “post-truth environment” where empirical evidence is devalued and “multiple truths” proliferate. This shift, exacerbated by social media platforms, has empowered “liars, conspiracists, and fantasists” while weakening evidence-based policymaking. Populists thrive in this environment by framing facts as opinions and dismissing scientific consensus as “elitist bias.”

Immigration and Political Avoidance: Professor Sanders highlighted immigration as a critical yet mishandled political issue in Western democracies. For decades, mainstream parties feared being perceived as illiberal, leading to a reluctance to engage substantively with public concerns. Populists, by contrast, capitalize on voter frustrations, using immigration narratives to construct “us vs. them” dichotomies and mobilize distrust toward elites.

Identity Fragmentation and Social Cohesion: The digital era has amplified group-based identity politics, reducing the sense of common national belonging. As shared civic identities weaken, Professor Sanders warned, populists exploit social fragmentation, scapegoating out-groups and deepening polarization.

Globalization and Economic Discontent: Populism has also gained traction from the failures of mainstream economic discourse to address the negative externalities of globalization. While global integration benefited elites, many communities experienced declining living standards and job precarity. Populists seize on these grievances, positioning themselves as defenders of “ordinary people” against globalist elites.

Norm Subversion and Strategic Learning: Finally, Professor Sanders underscored the willingness of populist leaders to bend or break constitutional norms, often learning from one another across contexts. He cited Donald Trump’s attempts to undermine US democratic institutions and Boris Johnson’s efforts to sidestep parliamentary constraints, framing these as part of a “global playbook of democratic erosion.”

Why Populism Is Uniquely Dangerous Today

Professor Sanders then turned to the three main dangers posed by contemporary populism:

Erosion of Social Cohesion: By demonizing minorities, populists heighten intergroup conflict and weaken the foundations of inclusive citizenship.

Authoritarian Drift: Populist leaders often centralize power, eroding judicial independence and institutional checks, leading to counterproductive repression against dissent.

Policy Failure and Disillusionment: Populists typically offer simplistic solutions to complex problems. When these fail, public disillusionment deepens, further undermining confidence in democratic governance.

“Populists,” Professor Sanders warned, “rarely solve the problems they promise to address, but they succeed in leaving democracies weaker than they found them.”

Countering Populist Authoritarianism: Five Strategic Priorities

In the final part of his lecture, Professor Sanders outlined five strategic pathways for safeguarding democratic resilience:

Addressing Immigration Through Inclusive Policy: Mainstream parties must reclaim the immigration debate with evidence-based, humane policies that both uphold human rights and ensure adequate state support for newcomers. Failing to do so, Professor Sanders cautioned, “hands the narrative to populists by default.”

Reframing Human Rights Discourses: Professor Sanders advocated a shift from purely individualistic frameworks toward a balance that also emphasizes collective and community rights, countering populist narratives that depict liberal values as detached from social realities.

Reforming Globalization and Economic Governance:  To undercut populist grievances, governments should restructure trade and investment rules to prioritize domestic employment and social protections, using multilateral cooperation rather than unilateral disruption.

Restoring Trust in State Capacity: Democracies, Professor Sanders argued, must “talk up the role of the state” in solving collective problems — from infrastructure and education to social security and environmental resilience — demonstrating the state’s relevance to everyday wellbeing.

Regulating Social Media and Combating Disinformation: Finally, Professor Sanders called for draconian reforms to social media governance, including penalties for platforms that facilitate misinformation. Without systemic regulation, he warned, populists will continue to weaponize digital ecosystems to bypass accountability.

Conclusion: A Call for Interdisciplinary Action

Professor Sanders closed by emphasizing the urgency of collective scholarly engagement. Combating populist authoritarianism, he argued, requires interdisciplinary collaboration across political science, sociology, communication studies, and law. The ECPS Virtual Workshop Series, he noted, offers an ideal platform to generate context-specific solutions, enabling comparative insights into how different democracies resist or succumb to populist pressures.“Populism,” Professor Sanders concluded, “is not merely a passing disruption but an existential challenge. Our intellectual and civic responsibility is to confront it directly — with evidence, clarity, and democratic resolve.”

 

Donald Trump delivers a victory speech after his big win in the Nevada caucus at Treasure Island Hotel & Casino, flanked by his sons Eric (right) and Donald Jr. (left) in Las Vegas, NV. Photo: oe Sohm.

Dr. Dinesh Sharma and Ms. Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich: “The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism in India and the US: Do Family Dynasties and Big Businesses Really Control Democracy?”

The session featured a joint presentation by Dr. Dinesh Sharma and Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich (Fordham University, NYC), of a work done with contributions from Britt Romagna, Ms. Ayako Kiyota, and Amartya Sharma. Their talk, titled “The Rise of Populist Authoritarianism in India and the US: Do Family Dynasties and Big Businesses Really Control Democracy?” examined the interplay between political dynasties, corporate power, and populist narratives in shaping democratic governance across two of the world’s largest democracies.

Drawing on material from Dr. Sharma’s forthcoming book The Orphan Paradox (Bloomsbury, forthcoming), the presentation explored the historical weight of inherited political capital, the growing influence of corporate financing, and the paradoxical rise of populist “outsiders” who simultaneously mobilize anti-elite sentiment while forging their own elite power structures.

Dynastic Politics and Democratic Capture

Dr. Sharma began by situating India and the United States within a comparative framework, emphasizing both convergences and divergences in their democratic trajectories. In India, dynastic politics remains deeply entrenched. Since independence, the Nehru-Gandhi family has dominated national electoral politics, holding power for more than half of the country’s post-1950 history. Beyond the national level, numerous regional dynasties — such as the Yadav family in Uttar Pradesh, the Thackerays in Maharashtra, and the DMK in Tamil Nadu — wield significant influence over state and local politics, shaping party structures and patronage networks.

In the United States, Dr. Sharma noted, dynastic influence has historically been less centralized but nonetheless persistent. Families like the Kennedys, Roosevelts, Bushes, Clintons, and, more recently, the Trumps, have leveraged name recognition, financial networks, and inherited legitimacy to secure enduring political influence. While American political culture celebrates self-made leaders, Dr. Sharma observed that brand recognition and elite networks remain powerful assets in electoral politics.

Corporate Power, Campaign Financing, and Policy Capture

A key theme of the presentation concerned the growing role of big business and corporate lobbying in shaping democratic outcomes. Dr. Sharma highlighted the landmark US Supreme Court ruling Citizens United v. FEC (2010), which effectively removed limits on corporate spending in political campaigns, institutionalizing the dominance of corporate financing. In India, similar trends emerged under the now-invalidated electoral bond scheme, which allowed opaque funding streams that disproportionately benefited ruling parties backed by large corporations.

According to Dr. Sharma, these developments represent a global convergence in which wealthy donors, multinational corporations, and media conglomerates exert outsized influence on electoral agendas, policy priorities, and political narratives. Media ownership — from the Ambani empire in India to the Murdoch network across the US, UK, and Australia — amplifies populist messaging, channels public anger, and fosters resentment toward elites while simultaneously serving elite interests.

The Populist Outsider Paradox

Perhaps the most striking insight in Dr. Sharma’s presentation concerned what he termed the “orphan paradox”: the tendency of voters to support leaders who position themselves as political outsiders or underdogs, even when they later consolidate their own elite power bases.

In India, Narendra Modi has long fashioned his public image as a “self-made son of the soil,” rising from modest beginnings outside the Nehru-Gandhi establishment to challenge entrenched dynastic power. In the United States, figures like Donald Trump similarly leveraged outsider narratives — despite being deeply embedded within elite business and political networks.

Dr. Sharma argued that this paradox reveals a deep tension in democratic psychology: voters oscillate between skepticism toward entrenched elites and admiration for disruptive figures who claim authenticity and independence from the system. Yet, as Dr. Sharma noted, many of these “outsiders” eventually replicate the same patterns of institutional capture they campaign against.

Resistance, Institutions, and the Future of Democracy

While dynasties and corporations exert significant influence, Dr. Sharma emphasized that democratic capture is not inevitable. Countervailing forces — from civil society movements and grassroots protests to independent courts, election commissions, and free media — remain critical in constraining elite dominance. Historical examples such as India’s anti-corruption mobilizations and the US civil rights movement demonstrate that organized citizen activism can challenge concentrated power, though sustaining such momentum remains difficult.

Dr. Sharma concluded by underscoring the fragility of democratic institutions in both contexts. In India, the Supreme Court and Election Commission face mounting pressures, while in the United States, corporate lobbying, partisan polarization, and media fragmentation undermine public trust. Populist leaders like Modi and Trump amplify this institutional strain, mobilizing resentment against “elites” while consolidating their own networks of influence.

A Psychodynamic Drama of Rivalry, Mourning, and Repetition

In her contribution, Ms. Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich (Fordham University) offered a distinctive literary-theoretical and psychoanalytic perspective on political succession, exploring how leadership transitions in authoritarian and revolutionary contexts can be interpreted through Freud’s Oedipus complex and trauma theory. Her analysis framed political power as a psychodynamic drama marked by rivalry, mourning, and repetition.

Ms. Baraschi-Ehrlich argued that succession crises often involve a form of symbolic “patricide,” where the paternal figure — whether a dynastic leader, revolutionary founder, or state authority — must be displaced or replaced. Yet paradoxically, successors frequently reproduce the very structures they sought to dismantle, perpetuating cycles of control. Drawing on trauma theory, particularly the work of Cathy Caruth and Dominick LaCapra, she explained that unresolved historical wounds resurface belatedly and repetitively, shaping patterns of political instability and repression.

Her analysis was grounded in three illustrative cases. First, revolutionary movements — such as the Cuban Revolution — often enact an Oedipal rupture against paternal authority, only to reconstruct new patriarchal orders, as seen under Castro. Second, in North Korea, dynastic succession is framed as filial devotion, yet marked by anxiety over legitimacy and loss, with citizens participating in rituals of mourning that sustain authority. Third, leaders like Lenin and Mao cultivated images of rupture while demanding absolute loyalty, embodying the ambivalence of rejecting and replicating paternal power.

Contrastingly, Ms. Baraschi-Ehrlich highlighted that democratic systems can mitigate these dynamics, enabling peaceful transitions that transform rivalry into continuity rather than trauma. Concluding, she underscored that political authority is haunted by unresolved loss — revolutions often reproduce the structures they oppose, dynasties rely on filial rituals, and democracies, at their best, offer pathways to healing through institutional stability.

Conclusion

Dr. Dinesh Sharma and Shoshana Baraschi-Ehrlich’s presentation offered a multifaceted exploration of the forces reshaping democratic governance in India and the United States, highlighting the intertwined roles of political dynasties, corporate power, and populist narratives. Sharma demonstrated how inherited political capital and opaque corporate financing create structural advantages that enable elites to shape policy agendas and electoral dynamics, even as populist leaders mobilize resentment against these very systems. Yet, as he underscored, the “outsider” paradox reveals a deeper democratic tension: figures like Narendra Modi and Donald Trump ascend by presenting themselves as authentic disruptors, but frequently replicate the same networks of influence they claim to oppose.

Baraschi-Ehrlich’s psychoanalytic lens added a distinct theoretical depth, framing leadership transitions as a “psychodynamic drama” marked by rivalry, mourning, and repetition. By invoking Freud’s Oedipus complex and trauma theory, she illuminated how unresolved historical wounds shape cycles of rebellion and restoration, particularly within authoritarian and revolutionary contexts. Her comparative insights revealed why revolutions often reproduce hierarchical structures and why dynasties rely on rituals of loyalty to sustain authority, contrasting these patterns with democracy’s potential to transform rivalry into institutional continuity.

Together, their analysis situates the rise of populist authoritarianism within a broader global challenge: resisting elite capture while navigating voter ambivalence toward power, authenticity, and belonging. The question, they concluded, is whether democratic institutions and civic movements can still provide pathways to resilience in an era where populism both contests and consolidates authority.

 

Donald Trump’s supporters wearing “In God We Trump” shirts at a rally in Bojangles’ Coliseum in Charlotte, North Carolina, on March 2, 2020. Photo: Jeffrey Edwards.

Professor Gregory W. Streich and Dr. Michael Makara: “Out-Groups, Elite Cues, and Populist Persuasion: How Populists Shape Public Opinion”

In their joint presentation, Professors Gregory W. Streich (Professor of Political Science and Chair of the School of Social Sciences and Languages, University of Central Missouri) and Dr. Michael Makara (Associate Professor of Comparative Politics and International Relations, University of Central Missouri) explored the mechanisms through which populist leaders influence public opinion, focusing on the interaction between elite cues, perceptions of out-groups, and the salience of policy issues. Their research, presented under the title “Out-groups and Elite Cues: How Populists Shape Public Opinion,” forms part of a broader project examining how voters reconcile competing influences when forming political attitudes, especially in the context of Donald Trump’s presidency.

Competing Theories of Public Opinion Formation

Professor Streich started presentation by framing the research within two dominant theories of opinion formation: 

Social Attributes Theory — Individuals’ policy preferences are shaped by their demographic identity and attitudes toward specific groups. For example, support or opposition to immigration policy often depends on whether voters perceive certain ethnic, religious, or socio-economic groups as beneficiaries or threats.

Elite Cues Theory — Also called the “follow-the-leader effect,” this perspective argues that voters align their policy preferences with cues from political leaders or parties they trust. When elites endorse a policy, their supporters are more likely to back it, even when it contradicts long-standing ideological positions.

The research seeks to understand what happens when these forces pull voters in opposite directions. Do citizens defer to elite endorsements, or do their social identities dominate? This question becomes especially salient under populist leadership, where leaders like Donald Trump often adopt positions that diverge sharply from traditional party orthodoxy.

Populism, Partisan Realignment, and Donald Trump’s Role

Professor Streich highlighted Trump’s ability to reorient Republican priorities, often in ways that defy the party’s historical platforms. For example:

Trade Policy: Trump’s tariffs represented a stark departure from Republican free-trade orthodoxy.

Immigration: Whereas Ronald Reagan framed America as a “shining city on a hill” and signed limited amnesty measures in 1986, Trump’s rhetoric emphasized exclusion and restriction.

According to Professor Streich, Trump’s deviations highlight his populist strategy: positioning himself as the authentic voice of “the people” against “corrupt elites,” while simultaneously forging new ideological coalitions. The study aimed to test empirically how persuasive this strategy has been across different issues.

High-Salience vs. Low-Salience Issues

Dr. Michael Makara expanded on the theoretical framework by introducing the concept of issue salience — the degree to which voters already hold well-formed, emotionally charged opinions on a topic.

High-Salience Issues — Highly visible, polarizing debates such as immigration evoke strong ideological divides.

Low-Salience Issues — Less publicly debated policies, such as trade, generate weaker prior attitudes and are thus more open to elite influence.

Their central hypothesis predicted that elite cues — in this case, endorsements by Donald Trump — would exert greater influence on low-salience issues (e.g., trade) than on high-salience issues (e.g., immigration), where voters’ views are already entrenched.

Research Design and Methodology

The researchers conducted a national survey in September 2025, using two factorial experiments. Respondents read short policy vignettes describing fictional immigration and trade proposals and were randomly assigned different conditions:

Endorsement Cues: Some were told Donald Trump supported the policy, while others received no elite cue or were told it was backed by generic officials.

Framing Effects: In the immigration vignette, immigrants were alternately described as “illegal aliens” or “undocumented immigrants” to test whether language influenced responses.

Respondents indicated whether they supported or opposed each policy. Logistic regression analyses measured the interaction between ideology, Trump’s endorsement, and issue salience.

Key Findings

Strong Elite Cues Effect

Trump’s endorsement significantly shaped conservative opinion across both policy areas:

Immigration Policy: Conservatives informed that Trump supported a proposal were four times more likely to support it compared to those receiving no cue.

Trade Policy: Trump’s endorsement similarly increased conservative support, demonstrating the persuasive power of elite cues even when policies contradict traditional Republican priorities.

Elite Cues and Polarization

While Trump mobilized conservatives, his endorsements also intensified liberal opposition. In both vignettes, liberals exposed to Trump’s support were significantly less likely to back the policy.

Salience Moderates Influence

Consistent with the authors’ hypothesis, elite cues proved more influential on low-salience issues like trade: On immigration, voters’ pre-existing ideological commitments dominated, limiting Trump’s persuasive reach. On trade, where voters lacked strong priors, Trump’s endorsement created substantial opinion shifts.

The Role of Information Gaps

Dr. Makara emphasized that voters with limited knowledge about trade policy were especially susceptible to elite influence. This finding suggests that populists thrive in policy domains where uncertainty is high and narratives can be shaped more freely.

Implications for Populist Mobilization

The study highlights how populist leaders leverage elite cues and out-group framing to reshape political landscapes:

Redefining Party Orthodoxy — By combining contradictory policy stances, populists like Trump create hybrid ideological platforms that mobilize cross-cutting constituencies.

Targeting Out-Groups — Populists amplify fears around immigration and cultural threats, using emotionally charged narratives to reinforce group identity and deepen divides.

Exploiting Low-Salience Issues — Populists strategically mobilize opinion on less familiar policy domains where facts are contested, and leaders’ cues carry disproportionate weight.

Future Directions

Professor Streich and Dr. Makara noted several areas for ongoing research:

Cross-Leader Comparisons: Testing whether similar elite cue effects emerge when policies are endorsed by other figures, such as Joe Biden or state-level leaders.

Media Ecosystems: Examining how different information sources shape susceptibility to elite cues.

Out-Group Framing: Integrating more detailed measures of identity-based threat perceptions.

Conclusion

Professor Streich and Dr. Makara’s findings illuminate the psychological and informational mechanisms through which populist leaders mobilize public opinion. While elite cues strongly shape attitudes, their influence is conditional: populists are most persuasive when voters lack strong priors, allowing leaders to frame issues and define narratives unchallenged.

In high-salience contexts, such as immigration, polarization constrains persuasion, reinforcing existing divides rather than shifting positions. By contrast, in low-salience policy domains like trade, populists wield significant power to shape voter attitudes and reconfigure partisan alignments.

The broader implication is sobering: populist influence thrives where knowledge gaps are greatest and where leaders exploit identity-based divisions alongside uncertainty. As the authors concluded, understanding these dynamics is critical for explaining not only Trump’s continued hold over Republican politics but also the global rise of populist-authoritarian movements.

 

Fans wave flags during Alexis Tsipras’s final public speech before the elections in Athens, Greece on September 18, 2015: Photo: Vassilis Anastasiou.

Professor Akis Kalaitzidis: “From Economic to Political Catastrophe: Four Case Studies in Populism”

In his insightful presentation, Professor Akis Kalaitzidis, a political scientist from the University of Central Missouri, analyzed how economic crises in Thailand, Argentina, Greece, and the United States catalyzed the rise of distinct forms of populism. Drawing on comparative analysis, he argued that financial dislocations—from collapsing currencies to sovereign debt defaults—create fertile ground for populist movements, but the resulting forms of populism diverge significantly depending on cultural values, institutional structures, and historical trajectories.

Professor Kalaitzidis’s central thesis is that economic catastrophe often triggers political catastrophe, dismantling established political orders and reshaping governance models. Across the four cases, populist leaders capitalized on social grievances, deploying a mixture of policy populism, rhetorical populism, organizational strategies, charismatic leadership styles, and media mobilization techniques. Yet, despite their contextual differences, these cases reveal a common pattern: populism thrives by framing “the people” against entrenched elites while promising rapid relief to the most vulnerable sectors of society.

Thailand: Rural Populism and the Thaksin Model

Professor Kalaitzidis began with Thailand, which he described as the most challenging case due to language barriers and limited direct research. Following the 1997 Asian financial crisis and the collapse of the baht, Thaksin Shinawatra, a billionaire businessman, rose to power by forging a coalition between rural farmers and urban working classes.

Thaksin’s policy populism centered on concrete economic benefits: Universal healthcare via a symbolic “30 baht” ($1) hospital fee, direct cash transfers of one million baht per rural village, and debt relief for farmers, enabling significant poverty alleviation. His rhetorical populism framed the struggle as “rural masses versus Bangkok elites,” positioning himself as the defender of marginalized communities against urban dominance. Institutionally, he created the Thai Rak Thai Party, a personal political vehicle, consolidating control through charismatic CEO-style leadership and media dominance.

Despite repeated military coups and Thaksin’s exile, his political network remains influential. As Professor Kalaitzidis noted, “the populist version of the Thai Rak Thai Party continues unabated,” reflecting the enduring power of rural-based populism in Thailand.

Argentina: Kirchnerism and Anti-IMF Populism

In Argentina, the 2001 economic collapse—marked by sovereign default and skyrocketing unemployment—triggered another form of populism. Néstor Kirchner and, later, Cristina Fernández de Kirchner led Kirchnerismo, a political project combining expansive welfare policies with defiant anti-IMF rhetoric. Their policy populism included: Increased social spending on pensions and welfare, subsidies for energy and public transportation, and aggressive debt renegotiations with international creditors.

Cristina Fernández de Kirchner’s leadership style was symbolically confrontational, presenting herself as the “defender of Argentina against foreign exploitation.” Professor Kalaitzidis highlighted a revealing interview with her former economics minister, who told him directly: “Don’t believe the IMF—they’re lying.”

Media strategy further amplified their narrative: while state-controlled outlets promoted Kirchnerism, opponents were framed as neoliberal agents undermining Argentine sovereignty. Even as Argentina later elected Javier Milei, an exclusionary populist, Kirchnerism remains deeply entrenched, reflecting the enduring centrality of anti-IMF populism in Argentina’s political identity.

Greece: Syriza and the Anti-Austerity Movement

Professor Kalaitzidis next turned to Greece, where the 2008 global financial crisis and EU-imposed austerity created fertile ground for Syriza’s left-wing populism. Led by Alexis Tsipras, Syriza built a broad anti-austerity coalition of pensioners, students, and social movements demanding relief from EU-imposed fiscal constraints. Key policy populism measures included: Promising debt relief and pension restoration, halting privatizations mandated by the “Troika” (IMF, EU, and ECB), and holding a national referendum on whether Greece should remain in the Eurozone.

Tsipras cultivated an anti-establishment image, symbolized by his refusal to wear a tie, signaling resistance to EU norms and domestic elites. His rhetorical populism framed the conflict as “Greeks versus the Troika,” appealing to national sovereignty amid external economic pressures.

However, Syriza’s eventual concessions to EU demands fractured its base and weakened its populist momentum. Today, Greece hosts a fragmented populist landscape, where multiple exclusionary and inclusionary movements—from the far left to the far right—compete for influence, illustrating populism’s institutional diffusion even after Syriza’s decline.

United States: Trumpism and Permanent Campaign Politics

The final case focused on the United States, where Donald Trump’s presidency (2017–2021) redefined populism in a highly polarized democracy. Professor Kalaitzidis characterized Trumpism as a right-wing, exclusionary populism rooted in white working-class, rural, and disaffected conservative constituencies. Trump’s policy populism emphasized: Tax cuts and deregulation, protectionist tariffs under “America First” trade policy, and restrictive immigration measures framed as defending “real Americans.”

His rhetorical populism weaponized the narrative of “real Americans versus corrupt Washington elites,” encapsulated in the slogan “Drain the Swamp.” Meanwhile, his organizational strategy involved capturing the Republican Party via the MAGA movement, transforming it from Reagan-era conservatism into a personalist political vehicle.

Trump leveraged social media mastery to bypass traditional gatekeepers, embracing a “permanent campaign” style based on real-time polling, online mobilization, and conspiratorial counter-narratives. Professor Kalaitzidis stressed that Trumpism’s influence extends beyond Trump himself, reshaping electoral rules, redistricting strategies, and policymaking for the foreseeable future.

Populism’s Legacy: Structural Shifts and Unresolved Tensions

Professor Kalaitzidis concluded by emphasizing that populism is not merely rhetorical performance but a structural response to globalization’s disruptions. In all four cases, populists emerged as mediators between national sovereignty and global economic pressures, but their methods and outcomes diverged: In Thailand, rural-based populism survives despite elite pushback; in Argentina, populism remains central to political identity, whether inclusive or exclusionary; in Greece, Syriza’s decline fragmented but did not extinguish populist forces; in the United States, Trumpism has permanently reshaped party politics and electoral norms.

Yet, across these contexts, populism’s strategies—mobilizing “the people,” rejecting establishment elites, and exploiting economic dislocation—share a common DNA. As Professor Kalaitzidis observed, “Economic crises highlight the tensions between national democracy and global markets, and populism thrives in this gap.”

 

Greek postage stamp depicting Andreas G. Papandreou, circa 1997. Photo: Sergei Nezhinskii.

Proefessor Elizabeth Kosmetatou:“Populism, Clientelism, and the Greek State under Papandreou”

In her detailed and engaging presentation, Professor Elizabeth Kosmetatou (Professor of History, University of Illinois Springfield) examined the political trajectory, leadership style, and enduring legacy of Andreas Papandreou — one of Greece’s most charismatic yet polarizing leaders. Drawing from archival research, declassified CIA documents, and historical accounts, she explored how Papandreou’s populism and clientelist practices reshaped Greek politics during his premierships (1981–1989, 1993–1996) and left a lasting imprint on Greece’s democratic institutions, political culture, and economic trajectory.

Professor Kosmetatou framed Papandreou as a transformative yet controversial figure, whose governance combined populist mobilization with entrenched patronage networks. His leadership marked a critical juncture in Greece’s modern history, defined by democratization after the fall of the junta, accession to the European Economic Community (EEC), and struggles over modernization and European integration. Yet, she argued, Papandreou’s blend of charismatic authority, populist narratives, and systemic clientelism simultaneously empowered marginalized groups while deepening structural vulnerabilities that still shape Greek politics today.

Early Life, Political Formation, and Exile

Born in 1919 into a prominent political family, Andreas Papandreou was the son of George Papandreou, one of Greece’s most influential liberal statesmen, nicknamed “the Old Man of Democracy.” Despite growing up under his father’s towering shadow, Andreas forged his own path, first as a Harvard-trained economist and later as a professor at elite US universities including Minnesota, Northwestern, and Berkeley, where he chaired the economics department.

Papandreou’s early political experiences were shaped by Greece’s turbulent mid-20th century history: authoritarianism under Metaxas (1936–1941), the Greek Civil War (1946–1949), and the deep polarization between left and right. Arrested in 1939 for links to a Trotskyist group, he fled to the US and reinvented himself academically before returning to Greece in 1963 to enter politics under his father’s Center Union Party.

By the mid-1960s, Papandreou had already cultivated an image as a radical reformer within the establishment. However, the 1967 military coup disrupted his rise: he was arrested, imprisoned, and later exiled to Sweden and Canada. It was during this exile that he founded PASOK (Panhellenic Socialist Movement) in 1974, marking a decisive ideological break from his father’s centrist tradition. Six years later, in the 1981 elections, PASOK surged from 13% to 48% of the vote — an unprecedented transformation in Greek political history.

Charismatic Leadership and Populist Narrative

Professor Kosmetatou emphasized Papandreou’s mastery of charismatic authority, placing him within the Weberian framework of “extraordinary leaders” who derive legitimacy not from institutions but from personal magnetism. His style combined academic intellect with performative populism, making him both an elite economist and a fiery nationalist orator.

His political discourse blended anti-elitism, social justice, and sovereignty. Papandreou portrayed Greece as a “dependent country” shackled by foreign powers, casting “the people” against corrupt domestic elites and imperialist outsiders — first the United States (blamed for supporting the junta and mishandling Cyprus) and later Germany (associated with austerity and economic conditionality).

One of Papandreou’s slogans, “Η Ελλάδα στους Έλληνες” (“Greece belongs to the Greeks”), became emblematic of his populist framing. He called for “change” (αλλαγή), promising to restore national dignity, expand welfare protections, and empower ordinary citizens. His rallies drew hundreds of thousands — sometimes over a million attendees — turning politics into mass performance. His speeches, delivered in simple, emotive language infused with slang, created a sense of collective ownership over history, epitomized by PASOK’s iconic slogan: “Ραντεβού με την Ιστορία” (“Appointment with History”).

Professor Kosmetatou argued that Papandreou’s charisma and mobilization techniques placed him within a global tradition of populist leadership, comparable to Perón in Argentina, Chávez in Venezuela, or Narendra Modi in India. However, his brand of populism was distinctly Greek, rooted in historical grievances, cultural narratives, and the lingering trauma of civil conflict.

Clientelism, Patronage, and Institutional Transformation

A central theme of the presentation was Papandreou’s use of clientelism — the exchange of public resources for political loyalty — as both a tool of governance and a mechanism of populist inclusion.

Papandreou’s governments expanded the public sector dramatically, appointing thousands of loyalists to state jobs, often bypassing competitive exams. Subsidies, pensions, and direct resource allocations were distributed along patronage networks spanning unions, rural constituencies, and marginalized groups historically excluded from power.

While this empowered underrepresented communities, Professor Kosmetatou stressed, it also entrenched dependence on the state and weakened institutional autonomy. Ministries became politicized, bureaucratic turnover soared, and policymaking increasingly relied on informal personal networks rather than transparent procedures. Papandreou frequently handpicked ministers and dismissed them abruptly — most famously firing Deputy Foreign Minister Asimakis Fotilas in 1982 for diverging from his directives at a European Community meeting.

Over time, clientelist governance blurred into systemic corruption. Major scandals, such as the Koskotas affair, implicated senior officials and eroded public trust. By normalizing patronage, Papandreou reshaped Greek political culture: all major parties adopted similar practices, embedding clientelism as a defining feature of the Greek state well beyond his premiership.

Economic Policy, European Integration, and Fiscal Vulnerability

Professor Kosmetatou situated Papandreou’s populism within Greece’s shifting economic and European context. After joining the European Economic Community in 1981, Greece received massive inflows of EU structural funds with minimal oversight. Papandreou used these resources to expand welfare spending, subsidize key sectors, and support clientelist distribution — while maintaining low taxation levels. Public debt, however, escalated sharply: In 1981, debt was 23% of GDP, by 1991, it had risen to 71%, and by 2002, when Greece entered the Eurozone, it stood at 117%.

Professor Kosmetatou highlighted how populist fiscal policies, combined with persistent trade deficits and weak administrative controls, laid the groundwork for Greece’s 2010 sovereign debt crisis. Declassified CIA reports from the 1980s had already warned of structural vulnerabilities, citing unsustainable populist spending and limited regulatory oversight.

Despite his anti-European rhetoric, Papandreou pragmatically kept Greece within the EEC and NATO, using nationalist themes to negotiate aid and favorable military balances, especially vis-à-vis Turkey. This dual strategy — radical discourse paired with pragmatic diplomacy — epitomized Papandreou’s political adaptability.

Reforms and Contradictions

Papandreou’s governments were not solely defined by patronage and debt; they also enacted significant social reforms that reshaped Greek society: Establishing a National Health Service to expand hospital access; liberalizing family law, strengthening women’s rights in marriage and divorce; introducing student participation in university governance, transforming academic culture; and officially recognizing the Greek Resistance during the German occupation, granting symbolic justice to excluded generations. Yet these reforms coexisted with instability and scandals. Between 1981 and 1989, his cabinets reshuffled 13 times, reflecting the fragility of decision-making within an intensely personalized political system.

Professor Kosmetatou argued that Papandreou’s contradictory legacy—progressive reforms alongside deepened clientelism and fiscal imbalances—continues to shape Greece’s governance and economic trajectory today.

Legacy and Polarization

Nearly three decades after his death in 1996, Papandreou remains one of Greece’s most polarizing figures. To admirers, he was the liberator who brought αλλαγή (“change”), consolidated democracy after the junta, and gave voice to marginalized groups. To critics, he was the architect of systemic corruption, unsustainable debt, and institutional decay.

Nevertheless, Professor Kosmetatou stressed, Papandreou’s mastery of populist charisma fundamentally transformed Greek political culture. His ability to mobilize mass enthusiasm, personalize governance, and redefine national identity created a template for subsequent Greek leaders, including Alexis Tsipras of Syriza, who consciously modeled aspects of his style on Papandreou’s performative populism.

PASOK’s decline after Papandreou’s death underscores the personalized nature of his power. Without his leadership, the party fragmented, highlighting the structural risks of politics built on charismatic authority rather than institutional strength.

Conclusion

Professor Kosmetatou concluded that Andreas Papandreou’s legacy embodies the paradox of populism: it can simultaneously democratize and destabilize. Through charisma, clientelism, and mass mobilization, Papandreou transformed Greek politics, empowered excluded constituencies, and reoriented the nation’s relationship with Europe and the global order. Yet, his fiscal policies, personalized governance, and embedded patronage systems created enduring vulnerabilities — economic, institutional, and cultural — that continue to shape Greece’s trajectory well into the 21st century.

Papandreou’s story illustrates a broader lesson about populism’s dual edge: while it can energize democratic participation, it often weakens institutional capacity, leaving states exposed to future crises. As Professor Kosmetatou concluded, understanding Papandreou’s era is essential not only to explaining Greece’s recent past but also to grappling with the long-term consequences of charismatic populism in contemporary democracies.

 

BJP supporters celebrate Narendra Modi’s victory during the 2019 assembly elections in Bhopal, India. Photo: Dreamstime.

Discussant Dr. João Ferreira Dias: Is Populism Offspring of Crisis—or Accelerant?

Dr. João Ferreira Dias offered a brisk, conceptually grounded set of remarks that stitched the panel’s papers into a broader argument about what populism is and how it works. He opened by defining populism less as a doctrine than as a discourse and performance that can be grafted onto multiple ideologies. In his view, it thrives amid social and political polarization and is frequently entangled with ethno-nationalism, his own area of research. Populist drama, he suggested, often promises a kind of psychological or spiritual renewal for the nation.

On Dynasties, Big Business, and Outsider Rhetoric

Responding to the first paper, Dr. Dias praised the conceptual pairings—“orphans,” “patricians,” and “entrenched elites”—as analytically fertile. The “orphan” posture lets leaders claim proximity to “the people,” while elite lineage can be reframed as stability, experience, and success. He urged the authors to sharpen the paradox of Trump and Modi: both channel anti-elite narratives while forging tactical alliances with powerful political and economic actors (e.g., tech and corporate lobbies). Historically, dynasties are part of the democratic “furniture”; what is new, he argued, is the coincidencia oppositorum—the coupling of oligarchic networks, family power, and anti-establishment populism—that uses national drama to claim, and then consolidate, power.

On Out-groups and Elite Cues

Turning to the second paper, Dr. Dias underscored the centrality of in-group/out-group framing in populist strategy, noting how leaders in the US and Europe defend a supposed “biocultural identity” against migrants and minorities. He welcomed the distinction between “follow-the-leader” (elite cues) and “social attributes” effects, but argued they often operate together. Drawing on Portugal, he described how André Ventura is portrayed as a “weather vane,” echoing bottom-up talk from taxis, taverns, and social media, even as top-down moral panics about migration are manufactured by elites and amplified by media competition for audience share. He found the study’s results striking: Trump’s cues polarize rather than persuade—conservatives rally, liberals recoil—implying that the real mechanism is mobilization and polarization, not cross-cutting persuasion. A qualitative agenda, he added, should test whether “follow-the-leader” is the DNA of MAGA, a coordinated reaction to social change, economic anxiety, and migration pressures that Trump effectively orchestrated.

On Economic Crisis and Divergent Populisms

Addressing the comparative paper on Thailand, Argentina, Greece, and the US, Dr. Dias lauded its robust design, showing how economic dislocation yields different populist species: military intervention in Thailand, Kirchnerismo in Argentina, left-nationalist forms in Greece, and Trumpism in the US. He suggested extending the arc to Milei’s libertarian populism in Argentina, which flips the economic script (anti-state, radical market) while retaining the populist grammar of “the people” vs. “the caste.” Populism, he argued, is reshaped by successive crises rather than produced once and for all. Likewise, the post-2008 surge of Europe’s radical left often subsided as party systems re-sorted (he cited Portugal’s sharp contraction from a 19-seat bloc to a single deputy). He floated Brazilian parallels (Collor’s campaigning among the “shirtless” and urban poor) to show how stylistic outreach can reposition populist appeals. The larger theoretical question he posed: Does populism require economic crisis, or do crises simply accelerate latent cultural and socioeconomic grievances that populists voice and mobilize?

On Papandreou: Charisma, Clientelism, and Executive Populism 

Dr. Dias called the historical reconstruction excellent and asked whether charisma mainly legitimized clientelism or constituted an independent source of appeal. He proposed reading Andreas Papandreou as an instance of “cabinet” or “executive” populism: not merely oppositional rhetoric, but a mode of governing—concentrating power, distributing state resources, and embedding patronage. Comparing Portugal, he noted how the Socialist Party lost voters amid perceptions of clientelism and corruption, illustrating how left populisms that once represented “the people” can later cede ground to the right. His key questions for Greece were pointed: To what extent did Papandreou strengthen democracy while simultaneously entrenching clientelist practices? And how did European integration and EU funds help mask or magnify the paradox of populism plus clientelism?

Cross-cutting themes and closing provocations. Across the papers, Dr. Dias returned to three through-lines: 

Performance over program: Populism is stylistic and strategic, injected into left, right, or libertarian projects as needed. 

Polarization over persuasion: Elite cues rarely convert opponents; they harden camps and energize bases.

National political cultures matter: Populism travels, but local institutions, histories, and media ecosystems shape its form, targets, and durability.

He encouraged further work on media logics (how competition and virality make charismatic leaders “fashionable”), on the feedback loop between grassroots talk and elite cue-setting, and on the institutional afterlives of populist governance—especially where clientelist distribution becomes routine statecraft. His final challenge to the panel distilled his critique: Is populism the offspring of crisis, or the accelerant that turns smoldering cleavages into open fire?

 

Overall Conclusion

Session 1 underscored a clear, sobering consensus: populist authoritarianism is less a fixed ideology than a flexible toolkit that exploits uncertainty, identity conflict, and institutional weakness. Across cases—from India and the US to Greece, Thailand, and Argentina—speakers showed how leaders fuse outsider performances with insider alliances (dynasties, corporate finance), mobilize elite cues to polarize rather than persuade, and convert economic shocks into durable political change. Professor Sanders’ structural diagnosis (eroded left–right anchors, post-truth dynamics, migration politics, identity fragmentation, globalization’s losers, and strategic norm-bending) aligned with panel evidence that national political cultures filter these pressures into distinct, yet rhyming, trajectories.

The session also pointed toward remedies. Reclaiming immigration with humane, evidence-based policy; rebalancing rights discourse to include community goods; rewiring globalization to protect social contracts; rebuilding state capacity; and enforcing platform accountability emerged as mutually reinforcing priorities. Methodologically, participants called for comparative, mixed-methods research that links micro-level opinion formation and media incentives to macro-level patterns of executive aggrandizement and clientelist governance.

As the series proceeds, ECPS will move from diagnosis to design: testing what institutional guardrails, civic coalitions, and communicative strategies actually bend polarization downward and restore democratic problem-solving. The challenge is long-term, but the session showed a path—empirical, interdisciplinary, and resolutely comparative.

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson is a political sociologist of education at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev.

Assoc. Prof. Pinson: Continuation of Gaza War Aims to Reconstruct Israeli Regime into an Illiberal One

In a wide-ranging ECPS interview, Ben-Gurion University scholar Halleli Pinson argues that Israel’s Gaza policy is intertwined with an illiberal turn at home. “The polarization we saw before October 7 around judicial reform,” she notes, “is now translated into how people understand the war and the hostages,” adding that “the continuation of the war serves this broader agenda… to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.”Dr. Pinson details how curricula sideline liberal democracy while NGOs and academics face a shrinking space for dissent. Media framings and social media echo chambers deepen an “epistemic polarization.” Though anti-war discourse is growing, she warns that animosities are hardening: “It may take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.”

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

The ongoing Gaza war has not only reshaped regional geopolitics but has also profoundly transformed Israel’s political culture, educational discourse, and democratic institutions. In this exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Associate Professor Halleli Pinson, a political sociologist of education at Ben-Gurion University of the Negev, provides a compelling analysis of the interplay between right-wing populism, illiberalism, and knowledge production in Israel, revealing how the conflict intersects with broader ideological projects.

At the heart of her argument lies a critical assessment of the government’s use of the war to advance structural political changes. As Dr. Pinson observes, “The polarization that we experienced in the year and a half before October 7th around the judicial reform is, in a sense, translated into how people understand the government’s policy regarding the war and the hostages.” She highlights a direct link between the government’s attacks on democratic institutions — such as the Supreme Court and the Attorney General — and its broader populist strategy: “The continuation of the war serves this broader agenda, attempting, in a way, to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.”

For Dr. Pinson, this illiberal turn is deeply embedded in Israel’s educational and discursive transformation. Over the past decade and a half, she argues, populist discourse has profoundly reshaped curricula, civic education, and public understanding of democracy. Discussions of liberal values, multiculturalism, and human rights are increasingly sidelined, while “illiberal democratic models” are emphasized. As she explains, Israel is being redefined “as primarily Jewish first and democratic only when it aligns with that identity,” a shift that has normalized the erasure of the Green Line and reframed settlements as integral parts of Israel.

The interview also delves into the shrinking space for dissent in both schools and universities. NGOs like Breaking the Silence and other human rights groups are excluded from classrooms, while academics face growing pressures under proposed legislation that would allow universities to dismiss professors “accused of supporting terrorism” — a definition so vague, Dr. Pinson warns, that “saying that there is starvation in Gaza or standing with photographs of children who lost their lives could be considered as support for terrorism.”

Finally, Dr. Pinson reflects on Israel’s fractured society and the growing epistemic polarization intensified by the war. While public criticism of the government has increased, she is concerned about entrenched animosities: “The level of hatred being cultivated between camps is deeply concerning… I’m not very optimistic, and I believe it’s going to take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.”

This conversation offers an essential lens for understanding how the Gaza war intersects with Israel’s democratic backsliding, populist rhetoric, and societal divides.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Associate Professor Halleli Pinson, edited lightly for readability.

Populist Discourse Is Reshaping Education and Normalizing the Occupation

Professor Pinson, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How has the rise of right-wing populism in Israel shaped curriculum design, educational policy, and civic education? In what ways does this curricular engineering affect how younger generations understand Gaza, Palestinian society, and the broader conflict?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: Let me start by saying that populist discourse over the past decade, or even longer, has significantly influenced curriculum and educational discourse — not only in high schools and schools in general but also within higher education institutions. While it is somewhat speculative to assess precisely how this shapes views of Gaza, I can offer a few examples of how such populist discourse has manifested in the field of education. For instance, just this week we learned that the civic education curriculum — specifically the matriculation exam for next year — will exclude discussions of liberal democracy, human rights, and related topics. Although it does not explicitly state that these subjects are being removed from the curriculum, the Ministry of Education sets annual focus areas, and this year, these topics have simply been omitted from that focus.

On the other hand, when it comes to defining Israel as a Jewish state, its commitment to the Jewish people, and other models of democracy referenced in textbooks or the curriculum — what I would term “illiberal democratic models” — these are increasingly emphasized at the expense of discussions on liberal democracy, multiculturalism, civil rights, and human rights. This reflects the particular type of populism characteristic of Israel, which prioritizes defining Israel as a Jewish state rather than as a democratic one, effectively reducing its democratic nature to a very thin model of democracy. These changes are consistently reflected in school curricula.

I would argue that this shift — from understanding Israel as both Jewish and democratic, or democratic and Jewish, to viewing it as primarily Jewish first and democratic only when it aligns with that identity — has, over the past decade and a half, become fully normalized within educational discourse and the production of knowledge in education. It began with significant changes to the civic curriculum but extended further, such as the complete erasure of the Green Line from geography and history textbooks, effectively normalizing settlements in the West Bank as integral parts of Israel.

I am quite certain that if you asked the average high school student in Israel, or even an undergraduate, many would neither know where the Green Line is nor recognize that places like Ariel are located in occupied territory. They are unlikely to use the language of “occupied territories” or acknowledge that understanding at all. In my generation, people debated whether Israel should continue the occupation or not, but it was at least understood as an open question. Today, however, the occupation has been so normalized that most people no longer perceive it as occupation. This, without doubt, has significant ramifications for how the conflict in Gaza — and the ongoing war there — is understood and discussed, if at all, in education today.

Shrinking Space for Dissent: Populism Redraws the Boundaries of Legitimate Discourse

The exclusion of NGOs such as Breaking the Silence and growing pressures on left-leaning academics point to shrinking intellectual pluralism. To what extent do these measures reflect a broader populist strategy to control knowledge production and suppress dissent?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: I want to broaden the discussion beyond knowledge production to consider how actions such as the exclusion of NGOs like Breaking the Silence, the Forum for Grieving Families, and other left-wing or human rights organizations from schools reflect a broader process. I see this as part of a deliberate redrawing of the boundaries of legitimate discourse within the Israeli education system. It is not only about knowledge production itself, which primarily occurs through curriculum design, but also about the types of discourse and political perspectives to which students are exposed. In this regard, the boundaries have been significantly reshaped — a process that began before October 7th but has deepened even more profoundly over the past two years.

Several practices are being employed by right-wing populist organizations and politicians. The first is portraying groups like Breaking the Silence as “traitors.” Especially during wartime, they are framed as supporters or enablers of terrorism. In such an environment, if you do not want to be associated with terrorism, you are compelled to distance yourself from these discourses. This is not only about shifting the boundaries of discourse but also about redefining what is considered legitimate political conversation within schools — what you are allowed to question and what you are not. 

To illustrate, I’ll give an example from the last two weeks. A group of school principals and high school teachers published a video calling for an end to the war, criticizing the government’s policies, and expressing concern over the humanitarian crisis and death toll in Gaza, as well as demanding the release of hostages. Following the video, about 20 principals were summoned to the Ministry of Education for what was essentially a disciplinary warning, even though it was not an official hearing. They were cautioned that they had crossed the boundaries of what is considered permissible for educators to say. The same applied to teachers.

Then, on September 1st — the first day of the school year in Israel — students at several schools organized a strike calling for an end to the war, the release of hostages, and an end to the suffering in Gaza. The response from Education Minister Yoav Kish was twofold. First, he instructed schools to mark these students as absent in their personal files, introducing a punitive element. Second, he publicly addressed the striking students, accusing them of jeopardizing national unity and being divisive.

From my perspective, as someone who studies the effects of populism on both schools and higher education, this demonstrates how the space for criticism and democratic discourse is constantly shrinking. A year ago, it was more mainstream to discuss the hostages openly. Now, combining discussions about hostages with calls to end the war is framed as crossing the boundaries of legitimate discourse established by the Ministry of Education.

This extends beyond schools to higher education institutions. Less than two weeks ago, during a nationwide strike organized by the campaign to end the war and release the hostages, many university professors — including heads of major Israeli universities — declared they would personally participate. The Minister of Education responded by instructing the Ministry of Finance to dock their pay for the day of the strike.

These measures, especially when directed at principals and teachers who are more vulnerable than university professors, create a powerful chilling effect on critical discourse and dissent within Israel’s educational system.

Public Opinion Shifts, but Denial and Division Persist

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

How has Israeli public opinion evolved throughout the Gaza war, and to what extent do these shifts reflect deeper sociopolitical cleavages within Israeli society—such as ethnic, ideological, or generational divides?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: This is a very good question, and there has indeed been some evolution in how the Israeli public responds to the war. To some extent, there is a change, and I’ll try to explain what I mean by that. The war itself is now more heavily criticized. A large part of the Israeli Jewish population, according to public polls, seems to understand that the continuation of the war is political, serving the interests of the current government, and particularly Benjamin Netanyahu. In this sense, there has been an evolution.

A year ago, or even right after October 7th, the majority of the Israeli public believed the war was justified — that it was the only solution and what needed to be done. Now, however, there is a more critical understanding of the continuation of the war. People are increasingly critical of the burden that many reserve soldiers are paying as the price of sustaining it, and there is a deep concern about the fate of the hostages as the conflict drags on. In that sense, there has been a significant shift in public opinion.

But what hasn’t changed much, or not to the same extent, is the ability of the Israeli public to actually understand, acknowledge, or be critical of what’s happening in Gaza. I think Jewish-Israeli public opinion can be divided into groups — setting aside those on the far right who openly support the continuation of Gaza’s destruction and even talk about plans such as building a Riviera there once they “get rid of everyone.” For the majority, however, there is either complete denial of what’s happening in Gaza or apathy toward it.

In that respect, I’m not sure how much public opinion has truly changed. There are cracks, yes — more attempts by left-wing activists and organizations to bring the issues of starvation, rising death tolls, and widespread destruction into the public sphere. But there is also widespread disbelief, with some dismissing reports about starvation as “AI-generated” or fake, while others say, “Yes, it’s regrettable, but it’s their fault because of October 7th.” Some express even harsher views, saying, “After October 7th, I lost all ability to be compassionate about the other side.”

For me, this is extremely difficult to hear and accept, but I think it reflects ongoing processes in Israeli society that began long before October 7th and whose consequences we are now witnessing.

I would also say there’s a strong correlation between the people who, before October 7th, were out on the streets protesting the judicial overhaul and the actions of the current government against the Supreme Court and other democratic gatekeepers, and those who are now protesting the continuation of the war. But it’s important to note that many of these protesters are not necessarily motivated by concern for the humanitarian crisis in Gaza; rather, they oppose the war because they believe it harms Israel’s own interests, undermines its security, and jeopardizes its democracy.

Competing Truths and Growing Epistemic Polarization

Israeli newspapers and magazines on display in the streets of Tel Aviv, December 12, 2018. Photo: Jose Hernandez.

To what degree has the Israeli media ecosystem—spanning state-controlled outlets, private mainstream channels, and social media—contributed to the construction of competing “truth regimes” around the Gaza war? Are we witnessing a process of epistemic polarization that reshapes how different publics understand the conflict?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: Let’s start with the mainstream media. The mainstream media has completely failed in its role of exposing the Israeli public to the full picture of what’s going on, including the costs for everyone. For the better part of at least the first year and a half, there were very rarely any reports about what was happening in Gaza. And, when there were reports from Gaza, they were almost always from the perspective of the soldiers. You’d have a reporter or reporters joining one of the units serving in Gaza — Israeli journalists — and all of this was always coordinated by the IDF spokesperson unit. As a result, the majority of the Israeli public was not really exposed to what was actually happening in Gaza. Even now, when there is a bit more discussion and slightly greater exposure, it is still presented in a very limited way and within a very specific narrative that avoids placing any blame on the actions of Israel.

So, just to give you an example — I don’t remember the exact phrasing, but when the international reports about starvation in Gaza started to appear, one of the Israeli channels — I think it was Channel 13 — reported, kind of “revealing” that the majority of the children who died of starvation had pre-medical conditions that probably contributed to them dying from starvation. The way it was framed, it was like, “Hey, here we reveal the big lie. There is no starvation; people are not dying of starvation in Gaza. Actually, those who died from starvation were dying because they had pre-medical conditions.” And that was, in a way, saying to the Israeli public, “Hey, look, it’s not our fault.”

When it comes to social media, I sometimes feel almost like I’m in my own bubble because this is the way social media works. So, I see reports of the destruction in Gaza — and I’m exposed to this sort of information, and the majority of my social media friends, followers, or the people I follow are in agreement with me. But when you look a bit outside, you’ll see — and I’ve heard it from people at the university whom I would consider smart, critical people — they’ll say, “This is fake news; this is AI. The whole starvation photographs are all AI-generated. There’s no real starvation.”

There’s great disbelief in the reports coming from Gaza and a lack of critical questioning, like, “How come we don’t get independent reports from Gaza, for instance?” This is a question I’d like my students to ask — why we don’t know. And so, this is something where we see a great epistemic crisis, in a sense, or polarization between those who are 100% aware and exposed to what’s going on in Gaza and what’s going on in the rest of the world, and, on the other hand, those who are kind of completely blind or in denial about what’s going on.

I’ll just give you an example. This polarization is also visible in political activism in the streets. In the past several months, there’s been an initiative in Tel Aviv during the big weekly demonstration — the one for the release of the hostages and against the continuation of the war. There’s a growing group of people who stand with photographs of children who were killed in Gaza. And this is amidst a crowd that’s there to say they’re against the war. In that instance, I think it made people think and reflect, like, “Okay, maybe it’s not just our suffering.”

But when this sort of vigil went to other parts of the city — not during the weekly demonstration — and I stood in those vigils, the level of contempt and hatred it attracted was intense because it put a mirror in front of people in Israel. We were standing with photographs of children, and the responses would be either disbelief or accusations: “You’re Hamas supporters.” Or, “Well, even if they are children, they’ll grow up to be Nukhba (the special forces unit of Al-Qassam Brigades, the military wing of Hamas) and they’ll do the next massacre.”

So, again, there’s this movement between denial and justification, for lack of a better word. And I’ll give you another example. There’s also a campaign against starvation, which is, again, a vigil where we stand holding empty pots and pans in the street. There was a video released two days ago of about 15 chefs and restaurateurs standing with empty pots and pans and calling for an end to starvation. This was just two days ago. The chefs of these restaurants have been under attack for the last two or three days. Their Google rankings dropped because people are condemning them. Again, anything you say that expresses concern and empathy is immediately — in the public discourse, even among those who object to the war — seen as coming at the expense of caring for the hostages or “our own kind.” It is immediately framed as, “You support the other side.” So, again, there’s this sense that you cannot be compassionate toward both.

From Judicial Reform to Gaza: Populism Driving Israel’s Illiberal Turn

Massive protests against Netanyahu’s government predated the Gaza war but have intersected with it in complex ways. How do these demonstrations reveal competing conceptions of democracy in Israel, and do they indicate a growing rift between state policy and societal norms?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: The short answer is definitely yes. You can clearly see the polarization — and I mentioned it before — that we experienced in the year and a half before October 7th around the judicial reform being, in a sense, translated into how people understand the government’s policy regarding the war and the hostages. There are also many connections being made between the government’s attacks on the Supreme Court, the Attorney General, and other democratic institutions, and how the continuation of the war serves this broader agenda, attempting, in a way, to reconstruct the Israeli regime into an illiberal one.

Going back to populism and the first question you asked me, we can see that many of the justifications the government uses draw directly on this populist discourse of “us against them,” “the will of the people,” “the true people,” and identifying those who are singled out as the “enemy within” or the “objective enemy,” and so on. These sorts of practices are used both in the context of the judicial reform and in justifying the continuation of the war.

The Catch-22 of International Boycotts

Pro-Palestinian protesters hold signs. Photo: Oliver Perez.

How does international criticism—including accusations of genocide by prominent scholars and institutions—shape Israeli public opinion and elite discourse? Do external pressures generate defensive consolidation around government narratives, or do they stimulate critical reflexivity among Israeli publics?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: This is something that I find very difficult to respond to. First, I would focus even more on the calls for an academic boycott of Israel. And let me say, to begin with, that I understand why people — my colleagues in other places around the world, university students, or academic associations — feel that they need to do something about what’s going on in Gaza. Whatever label we put on it, genocide or not, what’s going on in Gaza is on a scale that is unimaginable, and I wouldn’t like to see people being silenced globally in the face of what’s happening there.

But then, when I look at how this sort of criticism is being perceived in Israel, it’s more complex than that, and the political effectiveness of such measures is problematic. Just to explain, there’s a sort of Catch-22. I spoke about how Israeli media and the Israeli public perceive what’s going on in Gaza and about the movement of the majority of the public between denial, apathy, and justification — but with little, if any, self-reflection or sense of responsibility.

When this narrative is so strong — and it is a very strong narrative, even among those who oppose the continuation of the war — then, when people, organizations, or states call for sanctioning or boycotting Israel, the way it’s interpreted is: “Okay, here again, this is another proof that the world is against us.”

I had numerous conversations with people whom I greatly respect, and they would say things like, “Israel is being held to higher standards, and this is why we are attacked,” and, of course, they argue that this is no more than another expression of anti-Semitism. So, these are the sorts of ways this is perceived among the Israeli public. I’m not necessarily saying that people who oppose the government or Netanyahu will rally around him, but it is definitely not perceived as something helpful in terms of shaping public opinion or making people in Israel more aware or more reflective about their role or responsibility.

When it comes to the academic boycott — and this is, again, something I feel uneasy saying because, obviously, I am directly affected as an Israeli academic — I can only reflect on my own experience. I would say that, in a way, Israeli universities, and especially professors in the social sciences and humanities, have been targeted by the government for at least the past decade and a half. We’re being portrayed either as “the enemy within” or directly targeted through legislative measures intended to narrow or restrict the boundaries of legitimate discourse and sanction academics. 

There is one very important piece of legislation currently under discussion — it has already passed its first reading in the Knesset — which states that universities will have to fire, without any due process, any professor accused of supporting terrorism. On the face of it, it sounds like, “Okay, of course, no country can allow anyone who supports terrorism to teach in a university.” But the way it’s framed in this legislation is problematic. First, it’s important to note that it essentially seeks to change the legislation around the autonomy of the Council of Higher Education, which is, in itself, a very problematic and populist move, taking a page out of Orbán’s book in Hungary. But basically, it doesn’t define what “supporting terrorism” means. And in the eyes of the government, as I explained before, saying that there is starvation in Gaza or standing with photographs of children who lost their lives in Gaza is considered support for terrorism. So, if this legislation passes, someone from a right-wing organization could accuse me — Halleli Pinson — of supporting terrorism, and the university would be obliged to fire me without compensation, without my pension. And if the university refuses to fire me, the government would cut its funding.

This legislation hasn’t fully passed yet, and it probably won’t pass in its harshest form, but even in its current form, it has a chilling effect. And again, right-wing organizations like Im Tirtzu and others are actively targeting university professors — not just for what we teach or don’t teach in the classroom, but also, not in my case personally, for what we post on our Facebook pages, demanding that universities fire professors who “don’t say the right thing.”

There’s also similar legislation being discussed to restrict student activities, which, of course, puts Palestinian professors and students at even greater risk than people like me who are identified as left-wing. So, I’m saying all this to explain that, in a way, it feels like, in the past year, we are being attacked by our colleagues abroad for not taking enough action or responsibility, and the calls for boycotting are growing stronger and stronger. But at the same time, I’m not sure the international community fully understands that we are also being attacked from within for speaking out about what’s going on in Gaza.

I’m not sure that boycotting us will actually make a difference in terms of policy because this government already has its vendetta against universities to begin with. And definitely, if I have less power within Israel and also have to worry about my collaborations outside Israel, then my ability to influence change becomes questionable — whether it grows or is, in fact, reduced. And I think that’s the Catch-22 here, which is problematic when it comes to calls for boycotting and sanctioning Israel. The real question is whether it’s effective — and I’m not sure that it is.

Gaza War Deepens Divides, A Generation Needed for Democratic Renewal

And lastly, Professor Pinson, looking beyond the immediate conflict, how might the Gaza war transform Israeli political culture, intergroup relations, and trust in democratic institutions? Do you foresee the entrenchment of a security-oriented populist paradigm, or is there potential for societal reimagining and reconciliation?

Associate Professor Halleli Pinson: I would say that I’m very much encouraged by the growing discourse in Israel against the war, and this is something that has been evolving over the past six months, or even more, over the past year. But I’m quite certain that, at some point, the war will end, as wars tend to. However, the damage being done to Israeli society internally is profound — both in terms of what has already happened and what is yet to come. Will people actually realize what has been going on in Gaza, come to terms with it, or will denial no longer be possible?

There is also the deepening rift that has been created, which is becoming even more pronounced, between those who support the continuation of the war and those who don’t — between the heads of the right-wing parties and their supporters, on the one hand, and segments of the more mainstream public on the other. The level of animosity and hatred that is, in a sense, being cultivated between these two camps is deeply concerning.

So, I’m not very optimistic, and I believe it’s going to take a generation to shift the discourse toward a more liberal, mainstream orientation.

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 Galston: US Federalism Slows the Shift Toward Competitive Authoritarianism

In this incisive conversation, Brookings scholar Professor William A. Galston argues that America’s decentralized system remains a crucial brake on executive overreach. While warning of real risks, he maintains, “We’re not there yet,” distinguishing the US from harder cases of institutional capture abroad. Professor Galston spotlights federalism and the courts as the decisive arena of resistance—urging institutions to defend their prerogatives through litigation, “not street protests but the law.” He assesses the influence of Project 2025, redistricting fights in Texas/California, and the politics of immigration, crime, and DEI, noting potential backlash among centrist voters. The result is a clear-eyed appraisal of democratic resilience—and the legal contests that will shape whether the US moves toward or away from competitive authoritarianism.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Giving an in-depth interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor William A. Galston — senior fellow and the Ezra K. Zilkha Chair in the Governance Studies program at Brookings Institution and a leading authority on American governance, populism, and institutional resilience — provides a comprehensive analysis of the evolving dynamics of US democracy under President Donald Trump’s second administration. Drawing on his deep expertise in political institutions and constitutional law, Professor Galston examines how federalism, legal contestation, and civil society remain central to safeguarding checks and balances amid mounting executive centralization.

As the title emphasizes, “US. Federalism Slows the Shift Toward Competitive Authoritarianism,” Professor Galston underscores that America’s decentralized political structure continues to serve as a buffer against executive overreach. He stresses that, despite concerns about democratic backsliding, the US is not yet on par with countries such as Hungary, Turkey, or India, where institutional capture has been far more extensive. “We’re not there yet,” Professor Galston explains, “and I am hopeful that we’ll never get there.”

A recurring theme throughout the interview is the growing role of law as the principal arena of political struggle. Professor Galston argues that the resilience of US democracy increasingly depends on institutions defending their legal prerogatives: “Pushing back, using not street protests but the law, will be the most important venue of contestation.”

This dynamic is vividly illustrated in his discussion of a recent legal battle involving Harvard University, which challenged the Trump administration’s attempt to withhold federal research funds. A federal judge sided with the university, ruling that the administration’s actions were unconstitutional. For Professor Galston, this episode demonstrates that institutions “with the will to defend their legal rights can push back — and push back effectively.”

The interview also delves into the strategic influence of Project 2025 and the Heritage Foundation in shaping Trump’s second-term agenda. Professor Galston notes that the initiative has successfully translated its ideas into both institutional frameworks and personnel appointments, allowing the administration to pursue expansive interpretations of executive authority while testing the limits of constitutional constraints.

Additionally, Professor Galston examines redistricting battles, such as those in Texas and California, highlighting how federalism enables both parties to counterbalance each other’s maneuvers, thereby slowing the concentration of power at the national level.

Finally, Galston reflects on the broader trajectory of US democracy, warning that the coming years will be decisive in determining whether constitutional norms can withstand mounting pressures. Yet he remains cautiously optimistic, noting that state governments, universities, professional associations, and civil society are “waking up” to the importance of defending democratic principles.

This interview offers a nuanced, scholarly perspective on the complex interplay between institutional resilience and executive ambition, providing crucial insights into America’s democratic future.

Professor William A. Galston is a senior fellow and the Ezra K. Zilkha Chair in the Governance Studies program at Brookings Institution and a leading authority on American governance, populism, and institutional resilience.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor William A. Galston, edited lightly for readability.

Executive Power Expands, but the Rule of Law Faces Its Test

Professor Galston, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How has Trump’s second-term agenda accelerated the concentration of executive power relative to his first term? Do you see evidence of a shift from ad hoc populist mobilization toward more institutionalized mechanisms of executive aggrandizement?

Professor William A. Galston: I certainly do. There has been a dramatic shift from President Trump’s first term to his second, largely because those around him who share his general worldview used those four years to craft a highly detailed agenda — not only a policy agenda but also an institutional and legal one — aimed at expanding the perimeter of executive power. They are pursuing this through the strategic use of existing laws and mechanisms. They are not coming in and declaring the Constitution invalid or claiming that the laws do not count. Rather, they are saying, “Here’s how we interpret the law,” in order to give the president the authority to do things that previous presidents did not attempt. This has created a legal struggle, which I believe lies at the heart of the current divisions in American politics.

In your statement to the NYT, you argue that Trump has pushed the role of the president far beyond what his predecessors would have ever tried. There are already respected scholars who call Trump ‘a dictator.’ Would you agree with this characterization?

Professor William A. Galston: No, I would not — at least not yet. The president has said that if the Supreme Court rules against him in a particular matter, he will respect that ruling and will no longer do what he is forbidden to do. That promise has not yet been tested. But the moment of truth will come sometime in the next 12 months. The Supreme Court, I believe, is very likely — and I can’t tell you which rulings it’s going to be — to rule against the president in some areas of his assertion of presidential authority. And if that happens, and I think the odds are very high that it will come sometime in the next 12 months, we will see whether President Trump intends to keep his word and respect the holding of the court. If he does keep his word, then I would have to say that, like some presidents before him, he has used every device to try to expand his power, but in the end, he recognizes that he is constrained by the rule of law. If he says, “The Supreme Court has made its decision, but I disagree with it, and I’m not going to obey it,” at that point, he will be asserting non-constitutional powers. And if he gets away with it, at that point, I would be willing to call him — if not a dictator — an authoritarian ruler who is ruling outside the law. That hasn’t happened yet.

Trump Moves to Institutionalize Power and Reshape Electoral Rules

To what extent does Trump’s governance illustrate a transition from charismatic populism to incipient authoritarianism, and which institutional indicators best capture this trajectory?

Professor William A. Galston: Well, this, in a way, extends the first question you posed to me, namely the difference between the first Trump term and the second. There is certainly an effort to institutionalize not only a more powerful presidency but also a stronger Republican Party that has been reshaped in the president’s image. The efforts to change the electoral rules of the game between now and the midterm elections through state-based redistricting represent an attempt to institutionalize an advantage for his party. 

Similarly, the president is seeking to reshape the laws that govern elections — who can vote, how they can vote, and what the requirements are for voting — all with the aim of securing an edge over the Democratic Party. These are clear attempts to institutionalize not only his authority as chief executive but also the power of his party. Some of these efforts may succeed, while others will fail. It’s hard to predict.

Certainly, the president has the right to ask a particular state to engage in redistricting, and many, though not all, states will be able to respond to that in one way or another. So that’s certainly within existing political bounds. President Franklin Roosevelt, for example, tried to use an election to purge members of his party with whom he disagreed. His party fought back, and he was rebuffed. So this is not the first time a president has tried to institutionalize greater power and authority for himself and his party. Previous efforts have not succeeded, at least not entirely. For example, Roosevelt attempted in 1935 to do what President Trump is trying to do in 2025 — eliminate independent agencies whose leaders are exempt from firing simply because the president dislikes them or disagrees with some of their decisions. The Supreme Court said no to Roosevelt in 1935, and he respected that. He wasn’t happy about it, he grumbled, but he respected the decision. We’ll see what happens this time. Those of us with some knowledge of American political history recognize aspects of what’s going on now — not all of it, but some of it.

Culture Wars and Power Plays Redefine US Political Fault Lines

A Trump flag waves at a pier on Coden Beach in Coden, Alabama, on June 9, 2024. The flag bears the slogan, “Jesus is my Savior. Trump is my President.” Photo: Carmen K. Sisson.

Trump has repeatedly sought to limit congressional oversight and weaken checks and balances. Do these efforts signal a temporary partisan strategy or a structural erosion of US democratic institutions?

Professor William A. Galston: The erosion of congressional oversight has occurred through political processes rather than institutional changes and, therefore, could be reversed by a president with a different attitude. Just this week, for example, the chairman of the Senate Intelligence Committee, Senator Mark Warner of Virginia, was scheduled to conduct oversight at one of the intelligence facilities under the aegis of the Department of Defense, and reportedly, the Secretary of Defense intervened and canceled the site visit that Senator Warner was going to make. That was a clear effort to reduce congressional oversight. However, there was nothing institutional about it.

By the way, I misstated earlier: Senator Warner used to be the chairman of the Intelligence Committee and is now the leading Democrat on a committee chaired by a Republican colleague, with whom he has worked very well. So, I don’t think that the reduction of Congress’s oversight capacity has been institutionalized. I do think it reflects the will of the current president and the unwillingness of members of his own party in Congress to challenge his will. For a very simple reason: they’re afraid of him. They’re afraid of what he can do to them—to damage their political careers—and perhaps for other reasons as well. That’s not an institution; that’s an individual set of relationships.

How do you assess the strategic deployment of culture wars in Trump’s political agenda? Are they primarily an ideological project, or do they function as a power-consolidation tool to reshape voter alignments and institutional priorities?

Professor William A. Galston: Both. And certainly, President Trump, as a candidate and as a president, has been very good at discerning the fundamental fault lines or cleavages in American political culture and defining those fault lines in a way that maximizes the number of people who will be on his side of the line. Part of effective leadership is to define controversies that work to your advantage. In the cultural arena, President Trump has an instinct for those conflicts. I don’t think all of them that he’s picked have worked to his advantage, but certainly, the three that he emphasized in the 2024 presidential election, and again in the early months of his administration—namely immigration, crime, and so-called DEI (diversity, equity, and inclusion) initiatives—have all worked to his advantage so far.

Having said that, there are signs that voters in the middle of our political spectrum—and yes, there are still many of them—are beginning to conclude that the president may be going too far in the tactics he’s using. That’s demonstrably the case in immigration, where there is widespread disapproval not of the president’s objectives but of the means he’s using to achieve those objectives, which many citizens in the middle of the political spectrum view as unnecessarily cruel and as failing to provide potential candidates for deportation with sufficient legal rights to challenge the grounds of their deportations. And while Americans, generally speaking, align with the president’s goals on crime and some of the measures he’s used to reduce it, there isn’t the kind of mass support for the use of federal troops in American cities that the president imagines. At this point, I would say that probably a narrow majority of Americans believe that’s not the right long-term approach to fighting crime.

Project 2025 Drives Trump’s Institutional Power Agenda

How do you evaluate the role of Project 2025 and the Heritage Foundation’s allied networks in shaping Trump’s second-term policy framework? Are these actors contributing to the institutionalization of authoritarian governance through ideologically driven restructuring of federal institutions?

Professor William A. Galston: I believe the Heritage Foundation, through Project 2025, has been enormously successful in shaping the second Trump administration. If you listen to current Heritage leaders — as well as former leaders who now hold senior positions in the administration — their argument isn’t that they’re overturning the Constitution, but rather that they’re correcting what they see as improper interpretations of it.

For example, more than half a century ago, Congress passed a law preventing the president from withholding funds appropriated for specific purposes. In my view, the president has acted in ways inconsistent with that law. Yet his leading budget advisor — the head of the Office of Management and Budget (OMB) — has stated flatly that this law is unconstitutional. They are determined to use this controversy to take the matter to the Supreme Court, arguing that the statute improperly restricts presidential authority.

All of this was carefully planned in advance by senior members of the Heritage Foundation. In fact, the current head of OMB was one of the architects of Project 2025. There has been a direct translation of Project 2025’s core ideas into both the institutions and the personnel of Trump’s second term. The Heritage effort has effectively served as a recruitment mechanism: identifying individuals aligned with the president’s agenda, testing their loyalty, and placing them in key policymaking and policy-executing roles.

It has been a tremendous success — we’ve rarely seen anything like this. And speaking as a member of a rival think tank, the Brookings Institution, I must admit: although I disagree with much of what the Heritage Foundation proposed in Project 2025, I have to tip my hat to them. They’ve been enormously effective and have played their cards extremely well.

Comparing Trump with Orbán, Erdoğan, and Modi: Similar Rhetoric, Weaker Grip

Matryoshka dolls featuring images of Vladimir Putin and Donald Trump displayed at a souvenir counter in Moscow on March 16, 2019. Photo: Shutterstock.

In comparative perspective, how does Trump’s reliance on identity-based polarization and his governing style align with global populist-authoritarian trajectories — such as those of Orbán in Hungary, Erdoğan in Turkey, and Modi in India — particularly regarding institutional capture, media control, and judicial weakening?

Professor William A. Galston: I would say that, in his use of identitarian and nationalist policy themes, he is very similar to them. He has not yet, however, achieved the degree of control over the institutions that you just listed that we see in places like Hungary and Turkey, and, to a somewhat lesser extent, but still considerable, in India.

The press right now is not under Trump’s control to the extent that it is in Hungary. You do not have the state owning, either directly or indirectly, the share of the media landscape that Mr. Orbán has been able to create through docile intermediaries.

Nor has Mr. Trump been able to achieve the mastery of the judiciary that, certainly, Orbán and Erdoğan have achieved. The judiciary remains independent, and you can see that that’s the case because of the number of court decisions that have gone against President Trump just in the past few weeks.

Now, it is quite possible that the Supreme Court will end up ratifying the President’s position in some of those cases. Still, it has not been a complete takeover.

If you look at the direction in which the United States is heading, certainly down a very long road yet to be traveled lies the kind of political systems that we now see in the three countries that you listed. But there are many miles to go before this president enjoys that kind of authority, and, frankly, I personally believe that he is unlikely to get to the end of the road. I don’t think the American people or the American legal system will permit him to do so.

Having said that, I think, at the end of his second term — and I’m making the optimistic assumption that he will not violate the Constitution and try to run for a third term — he will leave behind him an enlarged presidency with much more robust executive powers.

Then his successor will have to decide whether to use that expanded authority for purposes of his own or recommend reforms that would create new legal limits on executive authority. So, that issue will be determined by the outcome of the 2028 election, and I expect it to be one of the major debates in that election.

Federalism Acts as a Guardrail Against Competitive Authoritarianism

Given your analysis of the 2026 midterms, how pivotal is the Texas redistricting battle in shaping Republican prospects, and what does it reveal about the role of electoral engineering in sustaining partisan dominance? To what extent might such aggressive gerrymandering strategies erode democratic legitimacy and push the US toward a ‘competitive authoritarian’ model?

Professor William A. Galston: Once again, and I feel I’m giving you versions of the same answer to all of your questions, I am distinguishing between the direction of change that we can discern, on the one hand, and its proximity to full competitive authoritarianism on the other. I don’t think we’re there. One reason we’re not there yet, and I expect won’t get there, is, as you know, the United States has a very strong federal system — unlike, say, countries at the other extreme, like France, where almost all power flows from the center. In the United States, the 50 states have robust powers of their own, and there are constitutional and legal limits on the ability of the national government to direct the states to do things that they don’t want to do. If I had an hour, I could explain all of the details, but the headline is that federalism serves as a check on presidential authority and on the power of the president’s party. So, to take a simple example, Texas, responding to President Trump’s suggestion, has undertaken and has just enacted a redrawing of legislative boundaries that will probably, but not necessarily, lead to a gain of up to five Republican seats in the House of Representatives.

That would make it harder for Democrats to regain the majority because the Republican majority would expand from three seats to eight seats. On the other hand, and in response, the governor of California, a state that’s heavily dominated by Democrats, has said, “Well, if you’re gonna do that, then we’re going to counter with our own redistricting plan that will increase the number of Democratic seats in the state of California going to the House of Representatives by five.”

Okay, so if that effort to counterbalance Texas succeeds in November in California — and the new maps are being submitted directly to the voters for their approval or disapproval — if they’re approved, then California will have nullified what Texas did, and there would be no net gain. Now, the Republicans are trying to expand this redistricting effort to other states, but there the potential gains are smaller. Perhaps one seat or two seats.

But here again, Democrats are countering with outreach to states where they control the governorship and the legislature, such as my home state of Maryland. Right now, Maryland has eight seats in the US House of Representatives, seven of them occupied by Democrats, and one lonely seat occupied by a Republican. Now, it is probably the case that Maryland could redraw its boundaries to eliminate that eighth seat and bring it under Democratic control.

For all sorts of reasons, I’m not sure that the governor of Maryland or the state Democratic Party really wants to go down that road, but they may feel, in a month or two, or three, that they have no choice. So, I think it’s important to see how, at the very least, our system of federalism slows the movement towards competitive authoritarianism.

And let me add one other thing. If you look at the language of the Constitution, who gets to control the time, the place, and the manner of elections, it’s the Congress of the United States and the state governments. The President of the United States has no role whatsoever to play in that.

And so, if President Trump says, “I’m going to issue an executive order forbidding the use of voting machines, forbidding the use of mail-in ballots, or requiring every citizen to show certain kinds of identification before voting,” well, that’s fine — he’s issued that order — but he has no legal authority to enforce it because the Constitution doesn’t give him that power.

So, you know, I read all of the same journals that I suspect you do, and the issue of competitive authoritarianism is very much in the air, and it’s a very real issue. And there are real and important examples of it around the world. But I want the people who will listen to (or read) this interview to understand that, although there are real constitutional risks in the United States today, and many things are drifting in the wrong direction, I don’t think we are as far away from constitutional government or as close to competitive authoritarianism as many people think we are, and as the other nations, like Hungary, Turkey, India, and others, already are.

Economic Pressures Overshadow Trump’s Cultural Appeals

With rising opposition to Trump’s tariffs, even among his base, do you foresee economic discontent weakening his political legitimacy, or will identity cleavages continue to override economic self-interest in voting behavior?

Professor William A. Galston: The single most important issue in the 2024 presidential election was inflation and high prices. I monitor public opinion surveys on a daily basis, and that has not changed. If President Trump thinks that he can use identitarian issues or cultural issues to neutralize public concern about high and rising prices, he’s fooling himself. That won’t happen. He’ll try to make it happen unless prices come down over the next year, in which case he’ll brag about bringing prices down, and the American people will, if those price reductions are real, give him a lot of credit, and they’ll give him their vote. But the economy — the affordability of basic things like housing, transportation, energy, and food — still looms over the entire political landscape.

Defending Democracy Requires Law, Not Street Protests

Frontal view of the U.S. Supreme Court Building in Washington, D.C., on February 10, 2024. Photo: Gualberto Becerra P.

And lastly, Professor Galston, what strategies should democratic institutions, civil society actors, and the media adopt to safeguard checks and balances and reinforce democratic resilience in the face of rising executive centralization?

Professor William A. Galston: All of those institutions should use their cultural power and their legal power to defend their integrity and their independence, which goes all the way back to my answer to your first question. I think that the principal venue of contestation in America today is the law. It is the law, ultimately, and the willingness of institutions to use their legal power to contest expansions of executive power that they don’t like. That will make the difference between the preservation of constitutional checks and balances and their erosion.

I’ll give you a very recent example from Wednesday’s newspaper. I think most people in Europe are aware of Harvard University, which is probably America’s most famous and prestigious university, and Harvard, a few months ago, decided that the Trump administration was making some demands that they could not yield to without forfeiting their institutional independence and their raison d’être as an academic institution. So they drew a line and said, “This far and no farther,” and they went to court to try to get legal reinforcement for where they’d drawn the line, and on Wednesday, a federal judge gave it to them and said that most of what President Trump was doing to Harvard was unconstitutional.

The administration was ordered to restore the $2.2 billion in research money that the judge said was arbitrarily and unconstitutionally withheld from them. Now, is that the last word? Absolutely not. Donald Trump believes in litigating everything as high as he can go in the hopes of achieving a more favorable verdict someplace. But that’s an example of how an institution that has the will to defend its legal prerogatives can push back — and push back effectively.

And I think that pushing back, using not street protests but the law, will be the most important venue of contestation. The extent to which the law is used to reinforce constitutional norms will determine the extent to which the United States goes down the road towards competitive authoritarianism. But, to repeat, we’re not there yet. We’re not even close to a decline into competitive authoritarianism. And I am hopeful that we’ll never get there. I can’t promise anybody that we won’t, but I do know that institutions in America outside the federal government — the states, universities, professional associations, civil society — are waking up.

And they are beginning to understand that unless they are willing to assert their legal rights, nobody else is going to protect them. They must act firmly, but legally, for themselves, and if they do, I think the outcome will be a very challenging situation for the adherents of liberal democracy in the United States. Don’t get me wrong. I won’t say it’s an emergency. It’s not quite an emergency, but it is a moment that challenges citizens who’ve taken liberal democracy for granted to realize that it’s not been handed down like the tablets to Moses on Mount Sinai. It’s a human creation, and all human creations are subject to human erosion and human destruction.

We know one of the few lessons from history that I think is impossible to deny and very clear to all who care to read it. And so, the quote that everybody is using, when Benjamin Franklin was asked after the Constitutional Convention, “What form of government have you created, Mr. Franklin?” — and his answer was, “A republic, if you can keep it.”

Well, those words now are a challenge to citizens of the United States today. Can we keep what we inherited? Sometime in the next decade, we’ll find out the answer to that question.

Activists stage an anti-corruption demonstration in Solo, Central Java, Indonesia. Photo: Dreamstime.

People versus Elites, Populist Logics in Indonesia’s 2025 Unrest

Indonesia is witnessing its largest wave of protests since Reformasi, sparked by the death of Affan Kurniawan during Jakarta’s labor demonstrations. Demands range from fair wages and job security to dismantling elite privileges and revising the controversial Omnibus Law. Drawing on Ernesto Laclau’s theory of populist reason, the article analyzes how heterogeneous grievances converged into a collective identity of “the people” against “the elites,” fueled by widening inequality, institutional distrust, and elite arrogance. It further examines government securitization, social media narratives, and intra-elite rivalries, situating the unrest within Indonesia’s democratic backsliding. Hasnan Bachtiar argues this moment marks a potential turning point — either toward renewed progressive populism or deeper authoritarian entrenchment.

By Hasnan Bachtiar

Affan Kurniawan (21) was still wearing the green jacket from his app-based food-delivery job as he stepped out to earn a living. The family’s breadwinner, he was expected to bring home a small bag of rice for everyone to share when he returned from work. But in the middle of a labor protest in Jakarta, he was struck and crushed by a nearly five-ton police armored vehicle.

On the night of August 28, 2025, he died. But his death unleashed a larger, unstoppable wave of populist anger, like a boil about to burst. The protests that day were not limited to Jakarta, they also broke out in cities such as Surabaya, Bandung, Semarang, Yogyakarta, Medan, Banda Aceh, Batam, Palembang, Lampung, Banjarmasin, Pontianak, Samarinda, Makassar, Gorontalo, Ambon, Ternate, and Jayapura, among others, spreading across all 38 provinces of Indonesia.

The protests demanded an end to outsourcing and poverty wages, a halt to layoffs, a higher minimum wage, a higher non-taxable income threshold, the removal of taxes on holiday bonuses and severance pay, limits on contract employment and on foreign labor, and the repeal of the Omnibus Law in favor of a new labor code.

It turned out this wave of protests was the twelfth in a series, preceded by eleven demonstrations throughout 2025, including one organized under the hashtag #IndonesiaGelap. The following day, and continuing to the present, the protests have carried on with even more serious demands. For the record, several others died after Affan, they are Septinus Sesa (West Papua), Iko Juliant Junior (Semarang), Andika Luthfi Falah (Jakarta), Syaiful Akbar (Makassar), Muhammad Akbar Basri (Makassar), Sarinawati (Makassar), Rusmadiansyah (Makassar), and Reza Sendy Pratama (Yogyakarta).

Populis Logics

What is happening appears to align with Ernesto Laclau’s thinking in his work On Populist Reason (2005). He sees populism as a political logic that constructs a collective identity of “the people” in antagonism to the elite by using broad, flexible, and recognizable symbols and discourses to unite disparate demands.

Initially, a scatter of heterogeneous demands kept surfacing. Because the authorities failed to respond adequately, people came to feel they shared a common enemy. They then experienced a shared fate and burden as “marginalized subjects.” This spread, solidifying public sentiment and spurring the formation of “equivalential chains.” They arrived at a collective claim that “the people demand justice,” to be pursued through a movement of resistance as a hegemonic articulation. From a more ontological perspective of “the people,” as suggested by Yilmaz et al. (2025), if the elite prove incapable of governing the country, they should be replaced or even dismantled. 

On the surface, it began with reports circulating about pay and benefit increases for officials, especially members of parliament. This came at a time when the public was facing severe economic hardship. On one side, the executive branch was rolling out “efficiency” measures that led to layoffs, service cuts, and heavier tax burdens. On the other, the elite were enjoying higher salaries and perks, access to lucrative projects, and economic rents. For comparison, while officials were set to receive 100 million rupiah (USD 6,092) per month, about 3 million rupiah (USD 184) a day, 68 percent of the population was getting by on less than 50,000 rupiah (USD 3). With incomes roughly sixty times higher than most people’s, this was seen as elite indifference toward the public and the imposition of a harsh double standard.

Moreover, some of those officials even danced in the parliament building when they heard about the pay raise. Others, like Uya Kuya (National Mandate Party/PAN), said that three million a day was a small amount compared to his salary. When the public flooded social media with criticism, lawmaker Eko Patrio (PAN) put out a DJ parody, blasting loud music, dancing, then covering his ears with headphones. This came across not only as a sign that they did not care about the criticism, but as an insult. They were dancing on the public’s suffering. When people grew furious and called for parliament (the DPR) to be dissolved, Ahmad Sahroni (National Democratic Party/NasDem) responded by calling them “the dumbest people in the world.”

The combination of economic hardship (crisis), a deficit of trust in the government, and widespread psychological pressure, especially a collective sense of humiliation, led the public to feel a shared grievance and to move together against a common enemy, the corrupt elite. All of this then manifested in collective protest movements filled with popular anger and even accompanied by violence that seemed inevitable.

Hijacking the Reformasi

Rather than engaging with the substance of public anger, the government responded with a hardline narrative with unproven claims of foreign infiltration. This seemed to be the point when the distance between the state and its citizens felt widest. The public demanded accountability, the state answered by criminalizing dissent. These dueling narratives hardened for a basic reason, that the people no longer believed that their representatives, whether in the executive or the legislature, would take their side, while the state treated criticism as a danger to be crushed. To confront the protesters, the government deployed not only the police but also military troops.

The public’s collective anger is clearly directed at the ruling regime. People see signs of recentralization as a replay of what happened for more than three decades under the military general Suharto. There is now symbolic militarization, increasingly entrenched political coalitions, and the concentration of state assets within a narrow circle, especially among those close to President Prabowo. All of this is viewed as the culmination of the post-1998 Reformasi trajectory. Reformasi, which was expected to open civic space, now seems instead to be in the process of being brutally dismantled.

More ironically, the rhetoric of fiscal efficiency is being wielded downward, squarely at ordinary people. Budgets for the regions have been cut, and the social safety net has shrunk, while luxury perks for parliament (the DPR) and defense spending have ballooned. For the record, the national defense budget rose from 139.27 trillion rupiah in 2024 to 247.5 trillion rupiah. At the start of 2025, the value-added tax (PPN) was raised to 12%, which many fears will significantly weaken purchasing power. Other issues seen as worsening the public’s socio-economic situation include the circulation of adulterated “premium” fuelshortages of LPG canisters on the market, the nickel case in Raja Ampatthe transfer of four islands from Aceh to North Sumatrathe freezing of 120 million bank accounts by Indonesia’s Financial Transaction Reports and Analysis Center (PPATK), and a rule under which idle land and houses would be seized by the state, among others.

So, for the public, “efficiency” has become a pretext for tightening their own belts, not for reining in elite appetites. Because budget “efficiency” is centralized, local governments that would normally receive transfers from the center have been left scrambling, with little choice but to raise local revenues. On August 13, 2025, residents protested in the city of Pati, Central Java, after the Pati regent, Sudewo (from Gerindra Party), raised the Land and Building Tax (PBB, essentially the property tax) by 250%. Other local governments that faced public backlash included Jombang (a 1,202% tax hike), Cirebon (1,000%), Semarang (441%), Bone (300%), and Lhokseumawe (248%).

In this context, the reform agenda appears to have been hijacked. An alliance of politicians, bureaucrats, and big business interests has deepened the private accumulation of public resources through seemingly democratic institutions. Meanwhile, political parties show almost no real ideological differentiation, they appear to speak with one voice in service of an oligarchic logic. At the same time, freedom of speech exists, and social media teems with criticism, but the distribution of economic and political power remains skewed. When the public pressed its case during the #IndonesiaGelap protests on February 17-20, 2025, the Chair of the National Economic Council and Special Presidential Advisor for Investment, Luhut Binsar Pandjaitan, replied: “Darkness lies in you, not Indonesia.”

The People’s Articulation

President-elect Prabowo Subianto with the 7th President of Indonesia, Joko Widodo, at the 79th Indonesian National Armed Forces Anniversary in Jakarta, Indonesia, on October 5, 2024. Photo: Donny Hery.

It cannot be doubted that the spread of protests was the result of many triggers converging at once. Tension in the streets created space for a populist mood to take hold, reinforced by narratives circulating on social media, kitchen-table anxieties, and political symbols that ignited collective emotion. The picture was further muddied by orchestrated messaging from anonymous “buzzers” (paid online amplifiers), making it hard for the public to see who was really behind the unrest.

On the ground, the crowd was heterogeneous (workers, students, online ride-hailing driver communities (ojek), and civil society organizations) pursuing overlapping aims that were not always identical, which often slowed coordination. Under that pressure, crowd psychology amplified emotions. Each new casualty triggered broader solidarity while also opening space for infiltration and provocation. At the same time, intra-elite conflicts (especially Prabowo-military vis-à-visJokowi-police) fueled the escalation. Factions within the ruling bloc competed, some ratcheted up tensions, while others capitalized on the moment for political gain.

The crowd’s anger in these protests was aimed at four main targets they saw as sources of injustice. First, the DPR (parliament) was perceived as a symbol of privilege and a legislature that often produces policies that betray the popular will. Then, the security forces (the police) because repeated violence and impunity have eroded the public’s sense of safety. Political parties were viewed as lacking real ideological differences and serving mainly to reinforce an oligarchic logic. The ruling faction (Prabowo) was criticized for pushing recentralization and was feared to be further narrowing the civic space that should belong to citizens.

From the streets, two tiers of demands rang out loud and clear. First came the urgent demands to be met by September 5, 2025, an independent investigation into cases of police violence against protest victims, an end to the involvement of the Indonesian National Armed Forces (TNI) in civilian affairs, the release of all detained protesters, accountability for security forces, a moratorium on increases to benefits for DPR members (parliament), full budget transparency, ethics sanctions for officials who displayed arrogance, an open public dialogue with the DPR, and comprehensive protections for workers.

Second, there were structural demands to clean up the parliament (DPR) of corruptions, to reform political parties and the system of executive oversight, to build a fairer tax system, to strengthen the Corruption Eradication Commission (KPK) through an asset-forfeiture law, to make the police professional, to ensure the military returns to the barracks without exception, to bolster the National Human Rights Commission (Komnas HAM) and other independent bodies, and to review economic and labor policies so they favor the public.

The demonstrations are not just seasonal “riots.” They are a serious sign that the state’s legitimacy is eroding. Indonesia learned in 1998 that when an economic crisis collides with a political crisis and injustice, the result is a multidimensional crisis. Those symptoms are back now, only with a new face, the public is more informed, more digitally connected, and more willing to test the state’s narrative against everyday experience. 

Democracy rarely collapses overnight. It usually erodes slowly under the pretext of maintaining order. That is why this moment can be understood as an inflection point, will Indonesia slip back into a new form of authoritarianism hiding behind procedural democracy, or use it as a chance to repair a fractured social contract?

This is where progressive populism becomes relevant. The popular movement, now articulated through anger and concrete demands, opens the door to building a new political bloc committed to economic and social justice, transparency, and accountability. Rather than merely mobilizing emotion, progressive populism can serve as a platform to knit scattered demands into a coherent, measurable collective agenda.

Affan’s death has come to symbolize how a single life from the poor can speak louder than a thousand official speeches. If the establishment chooses to turn a deaf ear, whatever legitimacy remains will only grow more fragile. But if it dares to listen and channel the people’s energy toward a fairer transformation, this tragedy could mark the beginning of renewal.

Large protests demand the resignation of Prime Minister Sheikh Hasina’s government as part of the Anti-Quota Movement and Bangladesh Quota Reform Protests. Thousands took to the streets in Dhaka, Bangladesh, on August 4, 2024. Photo: M.D. Sabbir.

Prof. Cheeseman: Mass Mobilization Is Critical When Institutions Fail to Contain Authoritarianism

In an interview with the ECPS, Professor Nic Cheeseman dissects the global resurgence of authoritarian populism and the uneven pathways of democratic backsliding. Warning against the “temporal fallacy,” he argues that crises unfolding simultaneously do not share a single cause—from Europe’s far-right surge to West Africa’s coups. Professor Cheeseman spotlights the twin pillars of democratic defense: resilient institutions and organized civic resistance. “In countries where institutions are weak, mass mobilization becomes absolutely critical—often the only mechanism left to stop populist or authoritarian leaders from consolidating power,” he says. Citing Ghana, Kenya, and Zambia, he urges context-specific democracy support that amplifies local strengths over one-size-fits-all templates.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Nic Cheeseman, Professor of Democracy at the University of Birmingham, and the Director of the Centre for Elections, Democracy, Accountability and Representation (CEDAR), offers a comprehensive analysis of the global resurgence of authoritarian populism, democratic backsliding, and the vital role of civic resistance in fragile democracies. As a signatory of the June 13, 2025, anti-fascist declaration, Professor Cheeseman warns against the normalization of exclusionary, illiberal politics and highlights the need to rethink strategies for safeguarding democracy in the 21st century.

Professor Cheeseman emphasizes that democratic decline is not uniform but highly context-specific, urging caution against what he calls the “temporal fallacy”—the assumption that simultaneous crises share common causes. While far-right populism is reshaping politics in Europe, democratic erosion elsewhere often follows different patterns, such as military coups in West Africa or institutional capture in Latin America. “What we’re seeing is a highly complex set of processes pushing countries away from democracy, but these processes do not necessarily share a common underlying theme,” he explains.

A central theme of the interview is Professor Cheeseman’s analysis of the relationship between institutional resilience and mass mobilization in resisting authoritarianism. Drawing on Afrobarometer data and recent case studies, he underscores that strong institutions remain the first line of defense against creeping autocracy. However, in contexts where institutional capacity is weak, civic resistance becomes decisive: “In countries where institutions are weak, mass mobilization becomes absolutely critical—often the only mechanism left to stop populist or authoritarian leaders from consolidating power,” Professor Cheeseman asserts.

This argument resonates particularly in African contexts, where frustration with democratic performance—stemming from economic hardships, governance failures, and elite corruption—has fueled coups and populist takeovers. Yet, Professor Cheeseman points to inspiring counterexamples like Kenya, Ghana, and Zambia, where citizens have mobilized successfully to safeguard democratic norms. In Zambia, for instance, “hundreds of thousands of citizens turned out to vote, even believing the election wouldn’t be fully free and fair, because they knew collective action could bring political change—and it did.”

Professor Cheeseman also critiques “one-size-fits-all” democratization strategies, urging international actors to develop context-specific approaches grounded in local realities, civic strengths, and the dynamics of populist narratives.

Overall, the interview highlights Professor Cheeseman’s central thesis: defending democracy requires a dual strategy of institutional strengthening and societal mobilization. Where one falters, the other must rise.

Dr. Nic Cheeseman, Professor of Democracy at the University of Birmingham and Director of the Centre for Elections, Democracy, Accountability, and Representation (CEDAR).

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Nic Cheeseman, edited lightly for readability.

Beware the ‘Temporal Fallacy’: Mapping the Varied Paths of Authoritarian Populism

Professor Cheeseman, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: As a signatory of the June 13, 2025, anti-fascist declaration, how do you interpret the resurgence of authoritarianism and illiberal populism globally? Do contemporary far-right movements represent a new form of “neo-fascism,” or are they better understood as populist-authoritarian hybrids adapted to 21st-century democracies?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: That’s a big question to start with. I’ll begin by reiterating something I often emphasize when discussing the recent phase of global politics and the authoritarian trend: we must be cautious of what I call the temporal fallacy. The temporal fallacy is the assumption that, because many developments are occurring simultaneously, they must be driven by the same underlying causes. For example, if we examine the challenges to democracy worldwide and the rise of authoritarian leaders, we see that some of these leaders fit into a proto-populist, right-wing, exclusionary politics mold.

We can observe the rise of the far-right across Europe, and, of course, we should note that right now, as we speak, far-right candidates or parties are leading in opinion polls in France, Germany, and the United Kingdom—something unprecedented in my lifetime. However, this trend applies only to a certain set of countries. In other contexts, democratic decline has occurred for very different reasons. For example, in West Africa, we’ve seen junta leaders seize power with little connection to right-wing populism. In some cases, there’s instead a pan-African, almost leftist form of old-school populism, modeled more on figures like Ghana’s Jerry Rawlings than on Europe’s fascist traditions. Similarly, in parts of Latin America and elsewhere, we observe yet different dynamics. Overall, what we’re seeing is a highly complex set of processes pushing countries away from democracy, but these processes do not necessarily share a common underlying theme.

So, in that sense, even if we were to agree that some of these cases provide a strong parallel to the fascist movements of the 1930s–1940s, we would, of course, be talking about only a small subset of them. And that brings us to the question of why sign a letter against the rise of fascism. I think what we wanted to do in the letter—and obviously, I can only speak for myself, not for the other signatories—was to raise a warning flag and say: we are beginning to see the early signs of something that increasingly resembles the kind of outright hostility toward other cultures and migrants that we have witnessed before in history.

At present, I think it’s fair to say that we are not yet at that scale. But what we are seeing—and this is what truly concerns me—is that both from senior political figures, like Nigel Farage or Donald Trump, and from below, through social media and conversations among people who share similar views, we now have an almost full legitimization of exclusionary, racist, and hostile discourse happening simultaneously from the top and the bottom. Social media is emboldening people, and the rhetoric of leaders is emboldening people. These two dynamics, unfolding together, mean that things people would not have dared to say 10 or 20 years ago, they now feel confident expressing publicly, believing that others will support them. 

Now, the final point I want to make is that we must be very careful not to assume that the values and prejudices we’re hearing today are somehow new. In many cases, people are simply feeling emboldened to express views they have held for a long time. One mistake we must avoid is interpreting these new expressions as evidence that we had previously solved these issues and that they have suddenly reemerged. My sense is that we never effectively addressed many of these underlying problems; instead, they were allowed to fester beneath the surface. What’s different now is that these prejudices are being emboldened and amplified in this particular moment. So, we face a dual challenge: how to confront the current manifestation of exclusionary politics and why we failed to tackle the root causes and reduce these prejudices more effectively over the last 20 to 30 years.

Frustration with Democracy Fuels Support for Military Intervention 

Thai military seizes control from Prime Minister Thaksin Shinawatra in a coup in Bangkok, Thailand, on September 22, 2006. Photo: Charlie Milsom.

Drawing on your work in “War and Democracy” in 2018, to what extent do rising authoritarian movements exploit institutional weaknesses and democratic fatigue, particularly in post-colonial states? How might these dynamics explain the erosion of liberal norms both in Africa and globally?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: I think frustration with democracy is a really important factor in many parts of the world. Some people believe that they once had a good-quality democracy and that it was taken away, while others feel that democracy was strong but ultimately failed them. For example, in the United States, many might feel that, on the one hand, they have been told they live in a functioning democracy, but on the other hand, they have seen class mobility decline and their ability to achieve a better life than their parents diminish—leading, in a sense, to the erosion of belief in the American dream. Alternatively, we can look at societies in Africa that have never truly been granted democracy. In that article, we discussed countries like Uganda and Rwanda, where we have essentially seen prolonged periods of authoritarian rule.

Now, today, for example, in Uganda, we have a system that is called a multi-party electoral system; it is described as a democracy by the government, but the opposition has never been allowed to win. We know that the game is systematically stacked against the opposition. There was even a survey that found a majority of Ugandan people did not believe that power could be changed through the ballot box. So, when you reach a situation where most voters don’t believe they can actually remove the government through elections, that creates a very dangerous dynamic. It gives people an incentive to start contemplating and supporting alternative ways of changing power—for example, through armed force. And if we were to ask what conditions led to the coups in West Africa, one of the key factors was that citizens had become frustrated and fed up with democracy, no longer believing that it would deliver, and no longer necessarily believing that democratic systems or electoral processes would enable them to elect better leaders in the future. Under those conditions, support for the military and for military intervention becomes something that people are more willing to contemplate.

So, if we look at the Afrobarometer data, for example—survey data across West Africa—one of the things it shows us is that most people are still against military rule. However, even those who oppose military rule in principle are sometimes willing to say that the military has a right to intervene if civilian-led leaders have abused their power. In other words, what people are telling us is: we don’t want the military to govern, but if civilian leaders undermine their own legitimacy, perhaps the military is necessary to provide a clean break and a new opportunity to rebuild the system. I think some of that frustration with the performance of democracy—in terms of its failure to shield people from economic hardships, provide meaningful jobs, and offer a sense that people’s lives have worth and value—is also at the heart of some of the challenges facing democracy in Europe and North America, today.

When Populism Meets Ethnic Exclusion, the Risk of Proto-Fascism Rises

Entrance to the National Genocide Memorial in Kigali, Rwanda, on March 2, 2017. Photo: Karen Foley.

In your article “Ethnopopulism in Africa” in 2015, you describe how African leaders fuse populist economic narratives with ethnic mobilization. How do you assess the risks of ethnopopulism evolving into proto-fascist politics in fragile democracies, particularly where leaders invoke existential threats to justify state violence?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: I think the threat is really significant. But we have to be very careful about approaching this on a case-by-case basis. For example, we wrote that article with certain parts of sub-Saharan Africa in mind, where, on the one hand, you see leaders trying to mobilize in a more populist fashion using economic issues, but on the other hand, mobilizing along ethnic lines because they also recognize the need to carry their ethnic community with them. This results in piecing together a complex constituency that is, at times, inherently contradictory. If you want to deliver broad populist goals and improve the lives of citizens and the average person, you’re appealing to everyone—the common man. But if you then make an ethnic appeal and promise to deliver primarily to your own ethnic community, you narrow your focus to just that constituency. In that sense, it creates an internally contradictory approach.

And what we tried to address in that article is when this approach holds together and when it doesn’t. We essentially pointed out that it is more likely to hold together when a leader’s own ethnic community—perhaps due to historical experiences or socialization into certain values and ideas—is more inclined toward populism and actually shares populist values. This could involve supporting strong state intervention in the economy to deliver rapid change or desiring a “big man” leader and being willing to sacrifice democratic checks and balances to achieve those goals.

So, there’s a kind of tension there that can be overcome, and leaders can use it effectively. But, where those identifications are different, where the ethnic constituency of a leader wants something very different from what perhaps the common person on the street wants, or when there’s a real tension and polarization around ethnic identity, it can be extremely difficult to make them consistent, and actually, a lot of these strategies don’t end up winning power. They collapse under the weight of their own internal contradictions.

Now, where I think this becomes really dangerous—and we see this clearly in other parts of the world, including parts of Europe and Asia—is when you get that combination of a populist leader mobilizing around ethnicity, an exclusionary version of ethnicity, and using the demonization of either external countries or internal minorities as a way to unify their support base. When that happens, you get a particularly troubling form of proto-fascist mobilization. On the one hand, you are deliberately using that community as the glue holding your coalition together, making it impossible to abandon this strategy since it sustains the regime. On the other hand, the populist nature of this mobilization further erodes checks and balances, making it easier for human rights abuses to occur and putting the targeted community in particular danger. That’s where this exclusionary form of politics risks boiling over into something far more violent and repressive. That said, it’s important to remember that this pattern is not universal: some right-wing populists in power have not yet led to severe attacks on minorities, while others clearly have. There is, in other words, significant variation.

One of the things that’s quite interesting to me at the moment is looking at where we see leaders like this who seem genuinely interested in reshaping multiple levels of society, versus those who don’t. In Italy, for example, it seems to me that the government isn’t particularly interested in controlling what academics think or say, nor does it appear heavily involved in censoring universities or seeking to control society down to the grassroots. I could be wrong, but from talking to friends, that seems to be the case. By contrast, in the United States, you have a government that is actively waging war with some of its own universities—trying to impose forms of censorship, remove certain issues from the agenda, and push its own values onto it. 

So, one of the things I think we need to reflect on more carefully is the question: why? Why do we have some movements and leaders who focus primarily on marginalizing communities within an exclusionary narrative, while others are far more invested in intervening directly to reshape society, including academia, universities, and cultural institutions? And why do we have some leaders who seem more focused on controlling the commanding heights of the state without necessarily pursuing deeper social transformation? What drives these different kinds of regimes, and what distinct consequences do they produce for their own societies?

Populists Rise on Anti-Corruption Rhetoric but Often Deepen Clientelism and Corruption

Brazilian citizens take to the streets demanding the impeachment of President Dilma, the arrest of former President Lula, and the fall of the Workers’ Party (PT), amid corruption scandals, in São Paulo, Brazil, on March 13, 2016. Photo: William Rodrigues Dos Santos.

In your 2016 article “Patrons, Parties, and Political Linkages, and the Birth of Competitive-Authoritarianism in Africa,” you highlight the role of clientelist networks in shaping political behavior. How do you see clientelism interacting with populism to facilitate creeping authoritarianism, especially when leaders frame loyalty to the state as loyalty to “the people”?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: It’s a very good question and I think there are two different parts to it. I mean, one is that, in a sense, classic populist leaders face a challenge when it comes to clientelism. Because, of course, if you’re arguing that people should support you because you embody the will of the people, you should be arguing, in a sense, that they should vote for you because they recognize you as the embodiment of the will of the people, and because of your agenda, platform, and personality. And that slightly cuts against the idea that you should, of course, mobilize people through clientelistic models, either by offering them very specific services in order to assist them. For example, the kind of model that we understand in the United States, where we see the government historically delivering specific localized services—for example, for the House of Representatives and so on—in return for votes, or, in sub-Saharan Africa, where we might expect there to be a relationship between leaders and their own ethnic community, exchanging resources in that way. And that, kind of, cuts against the logic of populist mobilization if we think about classic populist thought.

But of course, in reality, we know that these two things have often gone hand in hand, and clientelistic machines have often been the underpinnings of populists who use this kind of rhetoric but actually rely on clientelism to stay in power. Moreover, one of the things that we don’t think about enough is what happens to corruption when populists win power. So, for example, we know that one of the ways that populists mobilize support is that they claim that the state is corrupt. They claim the political elite is corrupt. They make great hay out of any corruption scandals.

Trump, of course, did this. It’s been a current theme in American politics: drain the swamp, reduce the corruption in the government. It’s true more broadly that people have a suspicion about government being corrupt and being inefficient, and so populists have understood that and play on that as a key part of their message. Of course, corruption is a particularly valuable message if you’re a populist leader. Because what you can say to people is: the system is so corrupt, it’s endemic, and it’s pervasive, and therefore, the only way we can deal with it is by electing someone who’s an outsider. And therefore, you have to elect me because I’m the outsider populist. None of those people in the system can be trusted to actually deal with it. So, you get corruption and anti-corruption as one of the key mobilizing messages of populists.

But, of course, when populists are in power, they then often prove to be just as corrupt, or even more corrupt, than the people they’ve replaced. One reason for that, of course, is that populists tend to remove checks and balances, they weaken institutions, they rule in a more spontaneous way, and often in a more individual and personalized way that undermines systems of accounting and systems of audit. Therefore, what you often see is the same populists who get elected on anti-corruption messages then commit greater corruption, partly for personal aggrandizement and wealth, partly to drive the clientelistic networks that were also part of your question. When they leave power, they actually also leave the states and the government more vulnerable to corruption in the future, precisely because they’ve weakened the institutions that were designed to prevent corruption.

So, in some countries, we’ve even seen more corruption when the populist leader has left power and someone else has come in who has been more corrupt-minded but then faces a situation with far fewer constraints. So, corruption and clientelism are fundamental to populism and the rise of populist leaders, both in terms of the mobilization of voters and getting into power, and then in terms of how they sustain power and the legacy they have for political systems.

Mass Mobilization: The Last Defense Against Authoritarianism

Peaceful protests on Niezaliežnasci Street in Minsk, Belarus. Demonstrators rally and march toward Independence Avenue on August 23, 2020. Photo: Shutterstock.

Based on your research on Kenya’s 2022 elections, to what extent can constitutional reforms and decentralization act as safeguards against authoritarian populism? Or do populist leaders inevitably find ways to co-opt democratic institutions?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: I think this depends a lot on how strong the institutions are before a populist leader comes to power, and it also depends on the balance of power. To what extent does the populist leaders get a parliament that is loyal to them? And there are two dimensions to that. One is the extent to which MPs, as part of the populist leader’s party or aligned with them, are elected so that they get an easy ride with Parliament. The other is how easy it is for them to buy over MPs in the context of weak legislatures and weak party systems. So, I think this varies significantly across different places. It seems so far that European countries that have experienced populism—with the exception, obviously, of Hungary—have managed to withstand it to some extent.

Partly because electoral commissions have remained credible, we’ve actually seen democratic institutions withstand some of the challenges, leading to cases of democratic bounce-back. For example, we might think of Poland, where an authoritarian-minded government took power and was later defeated. Similarly, we might expect a more significant prospect of the current government in Italy losing power in the future than in other contexts where institutions have been much weaker and more compromised from the start. Of course, that’s not to say that Italian political institutions are free of corruption or particularly strong. 

But if we compare them, for example, to some countries in sub-Saharan Africa that I work on—where legislatures have historically been extremely weak, and presidents have used corruption and patronage to demobilize scrutiny and opposition within the legislature—we see very quickly that institutions there are often far less able to operate as effective checks and balances. And in the cases of the coups we’ve discussed, we often see Parliament dissolved, political parties banned, and constitutions suspended, leaving political institutions with no real capacity on their own to constrain the new government. 

So, it’s a very mixed picture, and one that gives us important things to consider when it comes to democratic resilience. Some states are going to have much greater resilience than others because of the institutional strengths they possess.

The other thing that’s important to say briefly about this is that we need to think about both democratic resilience—that is, the extent to which institutions can cope with a shock, deal with a non-democratic leader, constrain them, and ensure the rule of law is followed—and resistance, meaning citizens on the streets, civil society mobilization, and people protesting against the government. Particularly in countries where institutions are weak, it is often this form of civil society mobilization and mass protest that prevents authoritarian takeovers. So, I think it’s really interesting to look at this combination. In some countries, institutions hold power; in others, institutions cannot, but mass mobilization can. And in that context, mass mobilization becomes absolutely critical, because it is almost the only mechanism left to stop populist or authoritarian leaders from consolidating their hold on power.

Democracy Can’t Be Saved with One-Size-Fits-All Solutions

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

In your co-authored 2018 article “Ten Challenges in Democracy Support,” you warn against “one-size-fits-all” democratization models. How should international actors adapt their strategies when confronting populist movements with explicitly anti-democratic tendencies?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: One of the things I’ve done with some colleagues at CEDA—the Center for Elections, Democracy, Accountability, and Representation at the University of Birmingham—is to think through the different pathways of autocratization. We’ve identified at least four or five ways in which states can become more authoritarian. One is executive aggrandizement, where the incumbent leader expands their power and weakens checks and balances. Another is military interventions—violent takeovers, such as the Taliban retaking power or coups. A third involves state capture, with pervasive corruption corroding the system, though not necessarily led by a single political figure. Finally, there’s populist takeover, where outsider, anti-system candidates win power and then subvert democratic institutions. Understanding these pathways is essential for assessing the biggest threats to democracy and determining how best to build democratic resilience and support systems that uphold democratic norms.

Those strategies or pathways that I outlined are, of course, often overlapping, so they’re not mutually exclusive. For example, you could have executive aggrandizement occurring alongside state capture. But thinking about them carefully is important because it helps identify the biggest challenge in a given context. For instance, if you believe the primary threat in a particular country is a military coup, then the strategy should focus on coup-proofing: How can we professionalize the military? How can we deter it from seizing power through force? Conversely, if the main threat is executive aggrandizement, the priority becomes strengthening checks and balances—ensuring that legislatures and judiciaries are robust enough to hold the president accountable. 

So, the potential solutions, or where you might emphasize investment, depend on assessing the specific threat. One of the risks, however, is that as a global community, we keep repeating the same approaches—supporting elections, legislatures, and civil liberties—without recognizing the need to be more problem-driven, focused, and context-specific. Within the policy community, everyone acknowledges that every reform and program should be tailored to context. But in practice, this is very difficult to achieve. It’s easy to say, “let’s adapt to context,” but much harder to determine what that context actually is and how best to respond to it. Thinking carefully about the most likely pathway of autocratization—and how to insulate against it—is, I believe, one way to encourage a more distinctive and effective approach in different settings.

Of course, you also need to consider other factors, such as identifying the main strengths of the democracy movement in a given country. In which areas is it powerful, and in which areas is it weak? How can we harness these strengths to build a truly effective coalition? That, again, depends on fully understanding which forces on the ground are most influential. In some countries, these might be trade unions, while in many parts of the world, trade unions have been so weakened that they can no longer play this role. In other contexts, religious organizations or other forms of civil society might serve as the driving forces. Ultimately, developing a clear understanding of the local context is critical for identifying the biggest threats and designing the best solutions.

Negative Messaging Can Strengthen Populist Narratives

In your 2024 article “Opening the Door to Anti-System Leaders,” you show how anti-corruption campaigns can paradoxically empower populist outsiders who then undermine democratic institutions. How do you interpret this dynamic in the broader resurgence of authoritarian populism, and are there parallels in Kenya, Zambia, or Tanzania?

Professor Nic Cheeseman: This is one of the things that, in some ways, is the most depressing: some of the things we try to do for good can end up having negative effects. It’s worth taking a step back for a moment from our specific research on corruption to explain why this happens and why it’s so important more broadly. One of the things researchers have started to find is that public awareness messaging—things like “don’t smoke, it’s bad for you,” “don’t drink and drive,” or “follow COVID rules”—can sometimes do more harm than good. One reason, we think, is that by telling people that lots of others are not doing something, you may subconsciously make them think that behavior is more acceptable, easier to get away with, and more socially legitimate.

For example, if I say to you, “lots of people are not following COVID regulations, so COVID is escalating, and we need to follow these regulations,” part of what you may be thinking, perhaps subconsciously, is: “well, if lots of people are not following COVID regulations, then maybe I shouldn’t either, because the norm is not to follow them.” And you might also think, “I won’t get in that much trouble, because loads of other people are already not following them.”

What you need to be really careful about when putting out messages is avoiding language that exacerbates or reinforces people’s sense that the behavior you’re warning against is pervasive, widespread, and normal. This is especially true when it comes to corruption. If you create an advert or message that makes people believe the country is even more corrupt than they already thought, or if you make them focus too heavily on the extent of corruption, you risk encouraging a sense of helplessness and powerlessness. That, in turn, can make people feel they should simply “go with the flow” rather than resist.

We’ve conducted research in a number of countries—Albania, Nigeria, and others—on what happens when this kind of messaging is used, where the focus is on how bad things are, employing what we call a “negative message.” In general, these messages not only fail to encourage people to do what you want—whether following COVID rules, quitting smoking, or, in our case, fighting corruption—but they also often have backlash effects. What we frequently observe is a backfiring effect, where people who receive these messages actually become more willing to engage in corruption rather than less. We believe this happens because such messaging fosters apathy rather than activism and reinforces people’s pre-existing skepticism about the state.

So, what this means is that anti-corruption messages themselves can unintentionally create the very foundations that populists exploit. For example, if anti-corruption messaging makes people more concerned about the extent of corruption but also more apathetic about their ability to change it—feeding a sense that the situation is hopeless—then people may become more willing to accept populist alternatives. In the paper you’re referencing, that’s exactly what we show: people who were exposed to some of these messages—which were intended to encourage anti-corruption activity—actually demonstrated increased support for populist values and attitudes. That’s an unintended and unwanted side effect.

So, we have to be very careful with how we fight, not just in anti-corruption campaigns but across many other areas. If we rely too heavily on negative messaging that focuses on how bad problems are, we may not only fail to achieve positive outcomes but also risk creating backfiring effects—making people more willing to tolerate corruption and other harmful behaviors.

For example, we’ve found associations between negative messaging and declining support for paying taxes, as well as reduced support for other critical elements of the social contract. I think this has significant implications for how we fight back against authoritarianism and sustain democracy. Messages like “everywhere is authoritarian” are ineffective because they reinforce the perception that authoritarianism is pervasive and widely tolerated. Instead, we need to craft messages that highlight how many citizens actually believe in the values we care about—how many support fighting corruption, how many believe their country would be better if it were less corrupt, and how many value democracy. These kinds of positive messages can mobilize people and build solidarity. Negative messaging, however, is really dangerous, and we need to avoid it.

Africa Offers Inspirational Lessons in Democratic Resilience

Two queues of people at a polling station during the 2011 general elections in Zambia. Photo: Dreamstime.

As a follow-up to our discussion on democratic backsliding and a final question, is there, in your view, any notable example of successful democratization across the African continent that offers inspiration amid the rising threats of resurgent fascism, populist mobilization, and authoritarian consolidation? What lessons can ailing democracies—both within Africa and globally—draw from such cases? 

Professor Nic Cheeseman: There are a number of really inspirational cases. Ghana, for instance, springs to mind. It is a country that experienced a series of coups and instability in the 1970s and 80s, followed by a period under military leader Jerry Rawlings, and then managed to emerge in the 1990s with a solid constitution that institutionalized a separation of powers. Rawlings then stepped down when his two-term limit came up, leading to a peaceful transfer of power. Since then, there have been a succession of such transfers. Now, that’s not to say Ghana’s democracy is fully consolidated. In some ways, we need to move away from the idea that democracy can ever be fully consolidated and recognize that, in a sense, it is always under threat, always being challenged. But one of the most striking things about Ghana is that it successfully made the transition from military to democratic rule, and the military has returned to the barracks and stayed out of politics ever since. In terms of one of the biggest trends in West Africa, the Ghanaian experience is a particularly valuable one to learn from. 

I also think we have really interesting examples elsewhere. For example, two countries very close to my heart—Zambia and Kenya. Kenya, on the one hand, is in the middle of a very intense period right now. On one side, you have a government trying to push through very unpopular economic policies, and on the other, there is mass citizen engagement against them—mass protests led largely by youths—alongside significant human rights abuses and violations in the government’s attempts to repress those protests. And so, again, I’m not for a second saying that Kenya has “got it sorted” or reached a point where democracy is fully protected and safe. But if you think about where Kenya was 40 years ago—as a one-party state dominated by Daniel arap Moi—or then move forward to 2007, when Kenya suffered serious ethnic violence after a controversial election, the progress is striking.

In response to that flawed 2007 election and the violence that followed, Kenya built a new constitution that was more inclusive, devolved power to 47 counties, and created a Supreme Court that not only exists but was one of the first courts in the world to nullify the election of a sitting president on the basis that the election didn’t meet the necessary standards. The fact that Kenya has gone through all of that—and that, in some ways, the multi-party system today could be said to be more robust than it was 20 years ago, with a stronger constitution—means that Kenya has the potential to ride out the current challenges, struggle through them, and move forward by instituting new reforms.

And I think it’s that process that gives me inspiration. It’s not easy. People have fought for it every step of the way. People have risked their lives; many have died, trying to push forward democracy, to build a more accountable and effective system, and to resist authoritarian leaders. But at the same time, that process of struggle has actually generated a situation where, over time, the institutions have become stronger. And while they still need to be strengthened considerably from here on, Kenya is in a much better position than it was—despite all the challenges the country faced in the early 1990s, coming out of its period of strongman rule.

And the same, very briefly, to an extent, applies in Zambia. Zambia, too, is struggling with the question of democracy, the government’s commitment to it, and the challenge of making progressive reforms. But at the last election, Zambia actually managed to remove an authoritarian—or increasingly authoritarian-minded—leader, President Edgar Lungu, and witnessed a peaceful transfer of power as hundreds of thousands of Zambians went out to vote. They did so even though many did not believe the election would be completely free and fair, because they believed that if they came out together in their hundreds of thousands, they could bring about political change—and they did, by voting for a change of government.

It’s also worth keeping in mind, especially for those skeptical about the feasibility of democracy in Africa, that only two countries globally moved toward greater democracy during the COVID-19 pandemic, according to major democracy ratings indices. And those two countries were Malawi and Zambia—both in Africa. So, I do think Africa provides some genuinely inspirational examples where the struggle for democracy is very much ongoing. These are countries that have not lapsed into pure authoritarianism; their institutions are gradually becoming stronger, and citizens are consistently mobilizing to safeguard their rights and liberties.

And that, I think, is a good model for other countries in different parts of the world that are now beginning to face their own democratic difficulties.

Professor Ruth Wodak is Emerita Distinguished Professor of Discourse Studies at Lancaster University, affiliated with the University of Vienna, and a member of the ECPS Advisory Board.

Professor Wodak: Autocracy Has Become a Global Economic Corporation Backed by Oligarchs and Social Media Power

In this powerful interview with ECPS, Professor Ruth Wodak warns that “autocracy has become a global economic corporation”—a transnational network where oligarchs, libertarians, and tech barons control discourse, distort truth, and undermine democracy. From Trump’s incitement of violence to Orbán’s fear-based migrant scapegoating, Professor Wodak outlines how authoritarian populists weaponize crises and social media to legitimize regressive policies. Yet she also defends the vital role of public intellectuals, urging them not to give in to “preemptive fear.” With deep insight into the politics of fear, techno-fascism, and discursive normalization, Professor Wodak’s reflections serve as both an alarm and a call to resistance in our increasingly volatile democratic landscape. A must-read for anyone grappling with today’s authoritarian turn.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a time when liberal democracies are increasingly challenged by authoritarian populism, far-right, disinformation, and escalating political violence, the voice of critical scholars has never been more urgent. In this in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Ruth Wodak—Emerita Distinguished Professor of Discourse Studies at Lancaster University, affiliated with the University of Vienna, and a member of the ECPS Advisory Board—provides a sobering assessment of our contemporary moment. With decades of pioneering work on discourse, racism, and the far right, Professor Wodak, who is also one of the signatories of the International Declaration Against Fascism,” published on June 13, 2025, alongside Nobel laureates, public intellectuals, and leading scholars of democracy and authoritarianism, brings both scholarly rigor and moral clarity to an increasingly fraught public debate.

At the heart of this conversation lies a stark warning: “We are facing a kind of global kleptocracy and oligarchy that owns social media and is, in some cases, part of governments,” Professor Wodak says. Drawing on Anne Applebaum’s recent book Autocracy, Inc., she argues that autocracy has evolved into a global economic corporation—one where power, capital, and algorithmic control are intertwined and weaponized against democratic norms. This nexus, she explains, enables “very powerful individuals, libertarians, and oligarchs—supported by governments—to wield enormous influence.”

Professor Wodak also elaborates on what she calls the “politics of fear,” a strategy used by populist and authoritarian actors to exploit or fabricate crises in order to manufacture scapegoats and position themselves as national saviors. “It’s a very simple narrative,” she explains. “There is danger, someone is to blame, I am the savior, and I will eliminate the threat.” From Donald Trump’s MAGA slogan to Orbán’s anti-migrant rhetoric, such narratives are not only emotionally charged but “discursively effective in obscuring regressive agendas while appearing to restore order.”

The interview further explores how fascist traits—particularly state-sponsored or paramilitary violence—are resurfacing even in democratic societies. Professor Wodak points to cases in the United States, Germany, Turkey, and Greece as troubling examples. “We do see that the government in the US is taking very violent actions,” she warns, referring to ICE raids and militia-linked violence under Trump. Similarly, she notes how “Golden Dawn in Greece only became scandalized after the murder of a pop singer—despite its long history of violent attacks on migrants.”

Yet amid these challenges, Professor Wodak emphasizes the indispensable role of public intellectuals. Despite increasing hostility, she insists, “one shouldn’t be afraid to speak out.” Indeed, she urges scholars and citizens alike not to succumb to what she calls “preemptive fear,” which “leads you to accommodate to some kind of danger which you envision—but which is actually not there.”

In this urgent and wide-ranging dialogue, Professor Wodak offers a powerful analysis of how authoritarianism is being normalized—and how it can still be resisted.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Ruth Wodak, edited lightly for readability.

Fascist Rhetoric and Violence Are Reemerging Across Democracies

Border Patrol agents monitor an anti-ICE protest in downtown Los Angeles, June 8, 2025. Demonstrators rallied against expanded ICE operations and in support of immigrant rights. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Ruth Wodak, thank you so very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How do you interpret the contemporary resurgence of fascist traits in democratic societies, especially in light of the anti-fascism declaration you co-signed on June 13, 2025? In your view, what are the key discursive markers we should be most vigilant of, both conceptually and in concrete political communication? Could you provide some recent illustrative examples—from campaign speeches, media discourse, or policy debates—that exemplify these traits in action?

Professor Ruth Wodak: I think that’s a huge question. There are, unfortunately, many examples of what you explained just now and asked about. First, I would like to say that we should be careful when using the term fascism, because it always leads us to associate it with the 1930s, National Socialism, Mussolini, etc. So, we should be aware of what the main characteristics of fascism are, and one important point to mention is the existence of violence and paramilitary movements that support a fascist movement or government.

What we can observe right now is an increasing level of violence. For example, in the US, quite recently, there was violence in Los Angeles, where Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE), along with the National Guard, were called in by President Trump to apprehend so-called illegal migrants and deport them to camps in El Salvador and other South American countries. These camps, in some ways, resemble concentration camps. Most surprisingly and disturbingly, Donald Trump had photos taken of himself at one such camp, appearing to be proud of these actions.

Now, when we think back just a few years—if you remember Charlottesville and the riots that took place there due to the attempt to remove the statue of a so-called hero of the Confederacy—the Proud Boys, a truly fascist movement of young, mainly male supporters, killed a young woman. Trump then said, “Well, actually, both the protesters and the Proud Boys were to be seen in an equal way.” So, we do see that currently the government in the US is taking very violent actions. These are still visible as snapshots—yes, they are localized in places like Los Angeles or elsewhere; they’re not yet covering the entire country. But of course, this could be a sign of what is to come. I think it’s very dangerous. And if you look back, you asked me about speeches and rallies—there was a speech by Trump where a protester entered the rally, and Trump just said, “Beat him up.” So, you can really also observe a rhetoric that orders or supports people to implement violence.

But this is not only the case in the US—it’s just a case we are all very aware of. If you look at Turkey, for example, where the Mayor of Istanbul was taken into prison, we again see violence enacted by the government. It’s not as if he was taken to court, there was a trial, and then democratic procedures were followed. No—this mayor was simply taken to prison, and as far as I know, nobody knows how long he will remain there. I depend on the media—you know much more about this.

We also saw violence—though again, very localized—in Germany, where there is no significant fascist mass movement that we can observe, except for very small groups of neo-Nazis and identitarians. But we do see assassinations and attacks on prominent politicians. There was an attack on a Social Democratic politician before the election. There are attacks on Green politicians. A mayor was actually shot. So, this is all very disconcerting.

Moreover, if we look back a little further—if you remember Golden Dawn, which was clearly a paramilitary fascist movement that was very strong in Greece around 2010 and a bit later—they enacted a great deal of violence against migrants. In fact, this only became widely scandalized when they killed a well-known Greek pop singer. Then, suddenly, it was talked about. But Golden Dawn had long used symbols of fascism, and so forth.

So, there is a trend that is leading up to the violence we see enacted today. And of course, I don’t even want to talk about Russia, because there, violence against protesters or opposition politicians has been ongoing for decades.

We’re Witnessing the Rise of Techno-Fascist Capitalism

Elon Musk speaks at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) at the Gaylord National Resort & Convention Center on February 20, 2025, in Oxon Hill, Maryland. Photo: Andrew Harnik.

The declaration highlights “techno-fascist enthusiasts” among media barons. How do you conceptualize the role of digital platforms and algorithmic governance in sustaining what you call the “politics of fear”?

Professor Ruth Wodak: First, let me explain what the politics of fear is about. It refers to how political groups or parties instrumentalize existing crises—or exaggerate them—and sometimes even create crises artificially through fake news and disinformation. They use these crises to construct scenarios of threat and fear—very dystopian visions of decay, collapse, and terrible events looming ahead.

Then, the leader of the party or group—because there are also women who do this—presents him or herself as the savior. So, there is a kind of link: on the one hand, creating a fearful scenario, and on the other, projecting a vision or utopia where the savior will rescue the country and eliminate those deemed responsible for the crisis.

This strategy also involves the creation of scapegoats, because someone must be blamed—someone must be guilty of the major problems that exist. The identity of these scapegoats depends on the context. Sometimes they are Turks and migrants, sometimes Jews and Roma. It all depends on who is available to be constructed as the scapegoat.

In this way, the narrative becomes very simple: there is danger, someone is to blame, I am the savior, and I will eliminate the threat—then everything will be fine.

It’s a very simple narrative and a very simple argument. But many people who are currently very insecure—because of the polycrisis we are all experiencing—seem to be easily manipulated into believing such a narrative.

And now we come to social media, which plays a very big role in this manipulation and in this propaganda. If we think of the big social media networks—for example, X—and Elon Musk, who is obviously the richest man on earth, we have someone who owns such a vast platform and who can actually manipulate the content.

In this way, dangerous content and disinformation are widely distributed, while evidence and factual counter-narratives are either deleted or not distributed—or at least distributed far less. Beyond that, there are also trolls and bots who amplify this content even further. So the whole—I would say—secondary discourse world of social media is saturated with disinformation.

There isn’t enough counter-information. We do now have Bluesky, for example, which tries to counter X—quite successfully in some ways. Many people have switched from X to Bluesky as a form of protest. But still, X remains more powerful because it is backed by an enormous amount of money.

In that way, I would say, power and money are going hand in hand right now in a really unpredictable way. We haven’t experienced something like this for a long time. I would point to the Russian oligarchs after 1989—but that was more localized. Now we are facing a kind of global kleptocracy and oligarchy that owns social media and is, in some cases, part of governments.

I would also mention a recent and very interesting book by Anne Applebaum, Autocracy, Inc.—yes, “the corporation.” So autocracy has become a big economic corporation, because power is now linked to money and to specific groups of libertarians, very powerful individuals, and oligarchs who are supported by governments and who wield enormous power.

Fear of Losing Control and Status Fuels the Far Right’s Rise

White nationalists and counter protesters clash in during a rally that turned violent resulting in the death of one and multiple injuries in Charlottesville, VA on August 12, 2017. Photo: Kim Kelley-Wagner.

The declaration refers to fabricated enemies and the weaponization of security. How have right-wing populist actors used crisis narratives (e.g., migration, pandemics) to justify authoritarian measures?

Professor Ruth Wodak: We see that happening all the time. I mean, migration has become such an important agenda in this construction of fear. And looking at recent EU barometers, it’s actually quite interesting that other topics also generate a lot of fear but are not instrumentalized in the same way. The statistics show us that, for example, the fear of the cost-of-living crisis, the energy crisis, the climate crisis, and the fear of wars—yes, we have, for the first time since the 1990s and the Yugoslavian wars, a war very close to or even within Europe, namely Ukraine—all of that could also be talked about extensively and used to create fear. But it seems to be migration that is, for the far right, the so-called best agenda to be instrumentalized. And that is the case across the board. I mean, I cover especially the Austrian and German debates, but I also follow the French and British debates.

I just read The Guardian yesterday, where there were reports of anti-foreigner riots in Manchester and another city in the north of England, and I was really disturbed—because, as you know, I’ve lived in the UK for 12 years in the North, and I had never encountered anything like that. I mean, there’s xenophobia everywhere, yes, but to have these riots, which were triggered by far-right groups—this is really very scary in the UK.

And again, if you look at Austria, the extreme right, far-right party—the Austrian Freedom Party—has been leading the polls since 2022 and won the last national election. They are not in government, but right now they are still leading the polls. Their main agenda is constructing the fear of migrants, and it’s really a paradox because, on the one hand, it’s obvious that in all European countries—or all countries of the European Union—specialist workers and people with expertise in various professions are needed. There are special ways of allowing them to enter the various countries—special permits and so on—and, on the other hand, this fear of migration still seems to resonate strongly.

We have to ask why the construction of this scapegoat is so successful. And it’s especially—and again, not only—targeted at Muslim migrants. Because this fear of migrants has already been a huge manipulative device, so to speak, since as early as 1989. If you recall the fall of the Iron Curtain in 1989—the end of the so-called Eastern Bloc—you’ll remember that many people from Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Romania, and Poland entered the West—yes, the so-called West. The Freedom Party in Austria, and especially Jörg Haider—who was quite a charismatic and very clever rhetorician—constructed his entire agenda against foreigners and became very successful.

And that was not during a time of crisis. There was no economic crisis at that time. We did a big study back then, and we found that the discursive patterns used at that time are very similar to those used now—except that at the time, the migrants were white Christian people, and now we have Muslims coming from Syria, Iraq, or elsewhere as refugees. But basically, the discourse of exclusion is very similar.

And if you ask yourself what triggers this enormous fear, I think there are basically two—possibly many more—but two really important points. One is the fear of losing control, which has become salient in the context of the polycrisis, but was also very visible during the Brexit campaign. So, the fear of losing control—because so many people are coming—and then you don’t know what’s happening anymore. The slogan at that time in the UK, “Take back control,” was very successful.

The second big issue is the fear of losing your social welfare—all the benefits, your jobs—they will take things away. So you haven’t lost them yet, but you might lose out. It’s not just the people who have already lost out, as is often discussed. It’s the fear among the middle class and the lower middle class of losing their status, their benefits, their way of living. That also explains why, for example, in very rich countries like Austria, Denmark, Switzerland, and Sweden, the far right is so prominent.

Authoritarianism Thrives on Silence; Intellectuals Must Refuse It

The open letter evokes the historical memory of anti-fascist intellectuals in 1925. How do you see the role of public intellectuals and discourse scholars today in resisting what you have termed “shameless normalization”?

Professor Ruth Wodak: I think it’s a hard job, and it really is difficult to summarize—or even observe—what impact public intellectuals might have, because they are, of course, part of the elite—the so-called elite—that the far right is fundamentally campaigning against. So public intellectuals form a group that is not wanted by the far right.

That said, it’s really important that people speak out. And the more people do so—and are listened to, and their voices are heard in social media, newspapers, and so forth—the more others become aware that there is a different position, a counter-discourse. I believe that to be very important, even if it isn’t widely distributed by platforms like X or other major channels.

So the more people speak out, the better it is—and one shouldn’t be afraid of doing so. Of course, this really depends on where you live. If you are in a dictatorship or a classically authoritarian state, public intellectuals may have a very hard time—they might be imprisoned, as has happened, or even killed, as we see in countries like Russia or China. And if we look at Turkey, they are imprisoned—just like many journalists—so they are forced into exile and speak out from abroad.

But if you live in a country that still allows freedom of opinion and supports human rights and the Human Rights Charter, then it is even more important to speak out—because you have the right to do so. And you shouldn’t be afraid.

Personally, I’ve never been afraid to speak out. Of course, I’ve encountered a lot of opposition. I’m not liked by everyone—but I tell myself, I don’t have to be loved by everybody. I also see many colleagues in the US or in Germany who speak out—not only at conferences and in academic settings, but who also leave the ivory tower and engage with the public, speak in schools or wherever they’re invited.

And I believe that it’s very important not to be frightened preemptively, especially in countries where freedom of opinion exists, where you don’t have to fear imprisonment or worse. There’s no reason to silence yourself out of imagined fear. Preemptive fear is dangerous, because it makes you accommodate to a threat that you envision—but which may not actually be there.

So in that way, I encourage scholars and intellectuals who are able to speak out—to do so.

Slogans Like MAGA Obscure Regressive Agendas Through Nostalgia

A Trump supporter holds up a “Make America Great Again” sign at presidential candidate Donald Trump’s rally in the convention center in Sioux City, Iowa, on November 6, 2016. Photo: Mark Reinstein.

How would you analyze the role of Trump’s “Make America Great Again” narrative and the narratives of Erdoğan, Putin, Netanyahu, Modi, Orban etc.—not just rhetorically but also in terms of its affective and mobilizing power? What makes such slogans so resonant across diverse audiences, and how do they function discursively to both obscure and legitimate regressive political agendas?

Professor Ruth Wodak: These slogans—and I would say these are really slogans—
MAGA, for example, resonates because, as I already said, many people are afraid and feel insecure—legitimately so—because there are existential crises right now. And these slogans construct a past that seems to have been much better. I say “seems” because it never was much better. There were always problems, always crises, etc.

We once conducted a study that looked at all the crises the European Union had experienced up until 2009, and it clearly showed a continuity of crises. There were always crises, so you could say the EU was essentially moving from one crisis to the next.

It’s basically what Bauman calls “retrotopia”—a fantasy, an imaginary past that is perceived as better. Now, we can think about what Trump actually—or what he might—mean when pointing to such a past. And it’s quite obvious that the past being invoked might be the period before the civil rights movement—a time when traditional gender roles were still enforced, when there was no political correctness, and so forth.

So, a past that some people would really like to return to, or at least evoke again. But of course, this is impossible. We cannot turn the clock back, and in that sense, it remains a complete fantasy or imaginary. Yet it resonates—because there is so much nostalgia. There is nostalgia, there is a lot of anger, and there is also, as Eva Illouz puts it, a lot of love and patriotism. This imaginary—where “we all were together” in some kind of imagined white community in the US, where all these values were still upheld—resonates strongly.

The same applies, of course, in other contexts, where one has to look at the specific historical elements that are being invoked.

Meloni’s Soft Fascism Balances Between Brussels and Trump

Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen meet in Brussels, Belgium on November 03, 2022. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.

And lastly, Professor Wodak, you’ve researched the discourse of the European far right extensively. How would you compare the current discourse strategies of far-right and populist actors in Austria or Hungary with those in the United States, Turkey, or India?

Professor Ruth Wodak: I have not researched Turkey and India extensively, because I don’t speak the languages. And it is, of course, for us as linguists and discourse analysts, always important to look at the original texts—visual, written, oral—because we need to understand all the nuances, the intonation, the latent meanings, and so forth. So translation is not enough.

But if I now speak about what is reported, what I can read about, and if I look—as I already cited examples from the US—there is a difference between these authoritarian or neo-authoritarian countries and the still liberal democracies.

So, for example, if we look at Italy, where Giorgia Meloni is leading the government and comes from a fascist movement which she claims to have left completely, we see an example of soft fascism. She balances between the EU—she is still also a friend of Trump—but she wants the EU funds to continue, so she negotiates in a nice way with von der Leyen and with the European People’s Party. She is for Ukraine and against Russia, and so forth. So there are many interesting positions. But in the actual domestic policies in Italy, her party attacks journalists. There are attacks on press freedom, freedom of opinion, freedom of assembly, and so forth.

However, civil society in Italy is very strong, so this is also being resisted. And this marks a difference—at least in some ways—from Hungary, where Orbán has really implemented an authoritarian state. But there too, civil society and the opposition are now growing. So it’s not clear what will happen in the elections next year, because there is a conservative opposition party led by Magyar, which has been leading the polls for several months.

And if we look at Austria and Germany again, this kind of explicit, violent speech would not be possible—or at least, when it occurs, it is scandalized. Certain politicians might say such things, but they are often suspended from their parties, especially if they make statements that invoke the fascist past. There are strict laws against that, and those laws are enforced. You cannot use these symbols or rhetoric freely.

Whereas—and this marks a major difference from the US—Trump openly violates such laws, human rights norms, and taboos, and yet there is comparatively little opposition—not the kind we see here. So I think the difference lies in EU legislation and national contexts, where violence and the breaking of taboos are still scandalized, prohibited, and prosecuted—unlike in countries where the government can break these taboos and act unlawfully, and it seems everything goes.

Omer Bartov, Dean’s Professor of Holocaust and Genocide Studies at Brown University-

Professor Bartov: Making Life Impossible in Gaza Is a Deliberate Strategy of Slow-Moving Genocide

In a powerful interview with ECPS, genocide scholar Omer Bartov argues that Israel’s military campaign in Gaza amounts to a “deliberate strategy of slow-moving genocide.” Drawing on the legal framework of the UN Genocide Convention and field reports from Israeli human rights groups, Professor Bartov contends that the Israeli government is intentionally making Gaza uninhabitable through starvation, displacement, and destruction of civilian infrastructure. He warns of a broader system of international complicity—what he calls a “diplomatic Iron Dome”—shielding Israel from accountability. As he dissects settler-colonial logic, media self-censorship, and the erasure of Palestinian voices, Professor Bartov issues a clear call: it is time for the world to confront both the scale of the violence and its own enabling silence.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a searing and uncompromising interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Omer Bartov—Dean’s Professor of Holocaust and Genocide Studies at Brown University—offers a stark diagnosis of the ongoing war in Gaza: a deliberate strategy of “slow-moving genocide.” Drawing on decades of scholarship on genocide, historical memory, and the politics of violence, Professor Bartov asserts that Israel’s military campaign is not merely excessive or misguided but rather exhibits clear patterns of intent to destroy Palestinian society in Gaza through starvation, forced displacement, and the systematic destruction of essential infrastructure. “Making life impossible,” he warns, “has become a central strategy—not an accidental consequence—of Israeli policy.”

Professor Bartov’s assessment, rooted in both empirical observation and the legal definitions enshrined in the UN Genocide Convention, challenges conventional narratives that frame the Gaza campaign solely as a response to Hamas’s October 7 attacks. While condemning massacre as a war crime and crime against humanity, Professor Bartov insists that it must be placed within a broader context of occupation, siege, and settler-colonial ideology that predates the current conflict. By May 2024, he argues, the Israeli Defense Forces had clearly shifted from their stated war aims to a policy of intentional devastation aimed at rendering Gaza uninhabitable.

What makes this analysis all the more urgent, Professor Bartov notes, is not only the scale of the destruction, but the active complicity of powerful international actors. He draws particular attention to what he calls the “diplomatic Iron Dome”—a term he uses to describe the protective shield provided by the United States and its European allies, who have continued to supply arms and political cover to Israel despite growing evidence of atrocity crimes. “This is extraordinary,” he says, “because the very countries that present themselves as guardians of international law are those facilitating what may well amount to genocide.”

Professor Bartov does not exempt the Israeli media from this dynamic of obfuscation. He highlights the role of pervasive self-censorship in shaping Israeli public opinion, describing a near-total internalization of the government’s narrative that casts all Gazans as complicit in terrorism. And yet, he also sees hope in first-person Palestinian accounts—testimonies that survive, sometimes only fleetingly, before their authors are killed. These narratives, he suggests, may ultimately reshape our collective understanding of the Gaza war and expose the moral cost of international silence.

In this wide-ranging interview, Professor Bartov unflinchingly dissects the ideological, political, and historical forces behind Israel’s war in Gaza—and calls on the world to reckon with its own responsibility.

Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Omer Bartov, edited lightly for readability.

The Intent to Destroy Gaza Is No Longer Hidden—It’s Being Systematically Implemented

Destruction in Shejayia, Gaza City, Gaza Strip. Photo: Dreamstime.

Professor Omar Bartov, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Given your extensive work on the complexities of defining genocide and the centrality of intent, how should we evaluate the Israeli military campaign and mass killings in Gaza through the lens of genocide studies—particularly when patterns of indiscriminate force, dehumanizing rhetoric, and systematic targeting of civilians are framed by the Netanyahu government as necessary and legitimate acts of self-defense?

Professor Omer Bartov: Thank you for that question. First of all, the most important thing to understand when you try to determine whether genocide is happening is that you need to show that there’s an intent—an intent to destroy a particular group, in whole or in part, as such—and that that intent is being implemented.

Now, all regimes or organizations that commit genocide typically employ alternative rhetoric. They claim it is a matter of security, that they have no other choice, that war is inherently brutal, and that terrible actions are sometimes necessary in such contexts. Therefore, it is essential to cut through this rhetoric to determine whether there is a demonstrable intent to destroy a group, and whether that intent is being actively implemented on the ground.

I concluded that that intent was both expressed and then implemented in May of 2024. The reason was that already in October, immediately after the Hamas attack of October 7th, statements were made by Israeli politicians and generals that appeared to have genocidal content—statements that spoke about flattening Gaza, cutting off water, food, and energy; that nobody was uninvolved; and describing people there as human animals. But the government also then declared that its war goals were to destroy Hamas and to release the hostages, and that seemed to be a more limited kind of objective.

By May, it became evident to me that the IDF was no longer pursuing its stated war goals, but rather carrying out precisely what had been declared in the immediate aftermath of October 7th—namely, a systematic and deliberate destruction of Gaza, aimed at rendering it uninhabitable for its population. This became particularly clear when the IDF moved into Rafah, ordering the evacuation of a million people—most of whom had already been displaced at least once or multiple times—and relocated them to the Mawasi area along the coast, which lacked any form of humanitarian infrastructure. Following this forced displacement, the IDF proceeded to destroy Rafah.

That seemed to indicate that the pattern of operations—which is one way to assess whether genocide is occurring—was aimed not only at making Gaza uninhabitable through its physical destruction, but also at systematically eliminating all essential infrastructure. As we now know from a recent report by Physicians for Human Rights in Israel, this included the deliberate destruction of health services, universities, schools, and mosques—effectively targeting everything necessary for a population to care for its health, receive an education, and ultimately reconstitute itself as a community, once the violence ends—if it ever does.

That’s a conclusion I reached as early as May 2024. I wrote about it that August, but since then, of course, we’ve seen much more evidence supporting it, along with numerous additional expressions of intent to carry out ethnic cleansing in Gaza. This is a form of ethnic cleansing that, notably, cannot be fully accomplished—because there is no place for the population to flee. Consequently, we are increasingly witnessing not only the killing of large numbers of people and the creation of conditions that make life unsustainable, but also—as outlined in one of the subsections of the Genocide Convention—the severe diminishment of the ability to give birth or deliver healthy children. This is due, among other factors, to starvation, food shortages, and the collapse of medical services. One striking figure: there has been a 300% increase in miscarriages among women in Gaza since October 7th.

Israel’s Most Far-Right Government Is Mainstreaming Extremism

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 your 2023 Guardian op-ed, you describe the Israeli far right as increasingly theocratic and exclusionary. How does this ideological shift, when coupled with populist rhetoric, justify or normalize indiscriminate violence?

Professor Omer Bartov: I would say that the current Israeli government is the most far-right government the country has ever had. It includes not only Netanyahu—who himself has become much more extreme, while remaining a savvy and cynical politician—but also members of parties that, until the coalition was formed in late 2022, had been anathema to Israeli politics and considered marginal. This includes the party led by Bezalel Smotrich, a settler who promotes an ideology rooted in Jewish supremacy, and Itamar Ben-Gvir, who represents another strain ideologically connected to Rabbi Meir Kahane—a figure often described as a Jewish Nazi. Kahane was banned from running for the Knesset by the Supreme Court, and Ben-Gvir is widely regarded as his ideological descendant.

These two people are now the most powerful ministers in Netanyahu’s government. However, I would add that alongside these figures—who are religious fanatics, anti-democratic, and openly racist—there are also other members of the government who are secular. While they do not belong to the religious camp, they are nonetheless extremely radical in their views. The current Minister of Defense, Israel Katz, for instance, has openly proposed the creation of what he calls a “humanitarian city” over the ruins of Rafah—which, in fact, would function as a vast concentration camp. Into this space, approximately 600,000 Palestinians—those who were displaced last year and sent to the Mawasi area—would be crammed, and they would only be allowed to leave if they exited the Gaza Strip altogether. Figures like Katz, and Levin, the current Minister of Justice, are extremely radical both in terms of their ambitions to transform Israel’s political system and in their approach to the treatment of Palestinians. Yet, they are not part of the religious-messianic faction.

Genocide Is Framed as Justified Retaliation in Israeli Public Discourse

In your article “Israel’s War in Gaza and the Question of Genocide” (2025), you argue that Israeli policies in Gaza are shaped by settler-colonial logic and a dehumanizing view of Palestinians, often perceived by many Israelis as a collective threat. In the light of Hamas’s October 7 massacre, how should we interpret the moral and legal boundaries of state response—especially when that attack is used to legitimize large-scale military campaigns that may constitute genocide? 

Professor Omer Bartov: There are two levels here that you need to think about. One is what most people who are trying to defend Israel would like to forget—that the Hamas attack of October 7th, however heinous it was—and to my mind, it was a massacre, a war crime, and a crime against humanity—came within a broader context, which we should not ignore. That context includes, first of all, the siege of Gaza, which has gone on for 16 years by Israel since Hamas took over, and more generally, the occupation of Palestinians since 1967. So, for most of the existence of the State of Israel— I was 12 when Israel won the 1967 War and began the occupation. That’s the occupation. 

By the way, most of the Palestinians who were living then in the Gaza Strip and the West Bank were people or descendants of people who had been expelled from Israel in 1948. So, they had already become refugees. Now I’m 71. It’s most of my lifetime that Israel has occupied those people. When you occupy large numbers of people—and there are equal numbers of Jews and Palestinians between the river and the sea—this has a dehumanizing effect on both sides. Obviously, the occupier dehumanizes those they occupy, because that’s the only way they can justify it to themselves. And they, too, are dehumanized by that process. So that’s the broader context that helps explain, in part, why the Israeli public is so indifferent to what is happening in Gaza.

But the second, of course, is the attack itself. The Hamas attack created a sense of trauma, confusion, and insecurity within the Israeli public that seemed to justify any kind of response to such an extent. Now there is more discussion of that—both around the world and even in parts of Israel—to the extent that people were willing to entertain the idea of genocide in response to a massacre—which, of course, is not only illegal under international law but is plainly unethical. So, the situation we find ourselves in now is that, for large parts of the Israeli public over all those months, it appeared that, because of the attack of October 7th, the only guilty party in starving the population, destroying Gaza altogether, and killing large numbers of people was Hamas. And that’s a typical dynamic in these kinds of situations. Usually, organizations carrying out genocide—and the public that supports them—see their victims as the main perpetrators. That’s a very common aspect of genocide. And that is what we’re seeing now in Israel.

A Deliberate Strategy to Render Gaza Uninhabitable Is Unfolding Before Our Eyes

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

Two prominent Israeli human rights organizations, B’Tselem and Physicians for Human Rights, recently reported that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza by targeting civilians based solely on their Palestinian identity—causing severe, and in some cases irreparable, harm to Gazan society. As a genocide scholar, could you evaluate how such assessments reinforce or complicate international legal debates surrounding intent, proportionality, and the criteria for defining state violence as genocide?

Professor Omer Bartov: First of all, what is important to point out is that both the report—which I was reading drafts of over the last few weeks—and Physicians for Human Rights in Israel, these are Israeli NGOs. And it’s the first time that Israeli NGOs, made up of Israeli physicians, scholars, legal scholars, have said openly, with a huge amount of evidence, that what they’re seeing is genocide. They make slightly different arguments, but it comes down to the same thing. That as such is very important, because this is coming from within Israeli society itself.

The debate over whether this constitutes genocide has gone on for a long time. As I wrote in The New York Times, I believe there is a growing consensus among both genocide scholars and legal experts that this is, in fact, genocide. It’s true that genocide can be difficult to identify, and it’s also true that if the debate focuses solely on whether this is genocide, there is a risk of overlooking the fact that—even if the classification remains uncertain—clear war crimes and crimes against humanity are being committed on a daily basis. Thus, the ongoing debate may actually divert attention from the criminality of the war itself, as we remain preoccupied with the question: “Is it genocide or not?”

But by now, I think intentionality is clearly there. In fact, one curious aspect of this event is that intentions were declared very early on, and that’s not always the case. The question was whether these declared intentions were being implemented. And as I said, that to me became clear well over a year ago, right in May last year.

And by now, I think it’s clear that what the IDF tried to do between October and January was to ethnically cleanse Northern Gaza and the area north of the Netzarim Corridor. Since breaking the ceasefire in March, its focus has shifted to starving the population—not merely as an unintended consequence, but as a deliberate tactic to force people to move south. That was the objective: first, to withhold food from the North so that people would leave; and second, once distribution points were finally established—four in total—three were located in the South, clearly intended to draw people there and concentrate them in preparation for the next phase, which would be to push them out altogether.

So, I think these reports contribute significantly to the discussion. I would say that the report by Physicians for Human Rights is especially valuable, in addition to the other report, because it clearly demonstrates—for the first time—that there was a deliberate destruction of the entire healthcare system in Gaza. This, even more than the ongoing famine, will have long-term repercussions. It’ll be very hard to rebuild it, if ever, and the consequences for the life and health of the population will be very long term.

And so, it speaks about a sort of slow-moving genocide, among other things, explaining why, as they understand it, the Israeli government refrained from killing larger numbers of people that might have brought more public attention and international pressure on Israel, but rather doing it in a slower version that is more difficult to prove, at least while it is happening. So, you can see a tactic here—and a deliberate one—to make life impossible in Gaza for its Palestinian population.

Israel Is Operating Under a Diplomatic Iron Dome While Advancing Ethnic Cleansing

Election billboard showing Netanyahu shaking hands with Trump, with the slogan “Netanyahu. Another League,” in Jerusalem on September 16, 2019. Photo: Dreamstime.

In your 2021 article “Blind Spots of Genocide,” you critique the Western-centric orientation of genocide studies and call for the inclusion of settler-colonial violence and victim perspectives. How should these frameworks be revised to more accurately reflect the dynamics of Israeli state violence in Gaza? Moreover, how does the international community’s muted response to this violence- especially in contrast to its swift condemnation of Hamas’s October 7 massacre- highlight enduring asymmetries in how global discourse defines and recognizes victimhood and perpetration?

Professor Omer Bartov: There’s a lot in your question, so I’ll focus on at least part of it—perhaps the most crucial part right now, or maybe two aspects. The first is that it is absolutely extraordinary that, since October 7th, Israel has operated with complete impunity in its actions in Gaza—and, of course, also in the West Bank, which we can discuss in a moment. This is not merely impunity in the sense that no one intervenes to stop it, but active facilitation through massive military assistance. The Israeli IDF could not have carried out its operations without a constant supply of arms and munitions from the United States, as well as from European allies—most notably Germany, which is the second-largest supplier of arms to Israel—and substantial diplomatic cover.

You know that Israel is living under a diplomatic Iron Dome—protected by the United States, which, as a permanent member of the UN Security Council, vetoes any attempt to sanction Israel for its actions. This is extraordinary, because the countries facilitating Israel’s actions in Gaza are the very ones most strongly identified as defenders of international law and human rights—that is how they describe themselves. And Israel is not Syria, Russia, China, or Somalia; it is a country described by itself and its allies as the only democracy in the Middle East, as a protector of human rights. It is, therefore, an exceptional case that receives exceptional support from the very actors who champion the rules and norms of the international legal order—rules that Israel is now in severe breach of. That’s an extraordinary situation. There are reasons for this, and they are somewhat complex, but that is the reality.

The second issue, of course, is: why is Israel doing what it is doing? Israel is doing this because, I would say, until October 7th, Netanyahu had managed to persuade most of the Israeli public—and, in fact, much of the international community—that Israel could, so to speak, manage the occupation. That there was no need for any territorial compromise or further negotiations, because the occupation was containable. One way he did this was by supporting Hamas. We tend to forget that Hamas was seen by the Israeli right—by figures like Smotrich, and very much by Netanyahu himself—as an asset. Israel persuaded Qatar to provide millions of dollars to Hamas, which were literally handed over in large cash bags by Israelis to Hamas. A fair amount of that money, in fact, was used to build Hamas’s tunnel infrastructure.

The rationale was: it’s advantageous to have Hamas, because Hamas is widely viewed as a terrorist and fundamentalist organization, one that seeks to replace Israel with an Islamic state. Therefore, it is not considered a viable partner for negotiations. In contrast, the Palestinian Authority (PA) is recognized internationally—which is not favorable for Israel—but it is also perceived as weak and corrupt, and thus not a significant threat. Moreover, the PA collaborates with Israel in the West Bank, which further diminishes any urgency for diplomatic engagement from Israel’s perspective.

That all blew up on October 7th, when Hamas launched its attack. Initially, the Israeli government and military were quite shocked by the events, and it took them a few days to recover. Then, figures like Netanyahu, Smotrich, and Ben-Gvir suddenly realized—at least in their minds—that this was an opportunity rather than merely a fiasco. They saw it as a chance to resolve the issue by other means. If the occupation could no longer be effectively managed, then the alternative, in their view, was to ethnically cleanse the population—using the global consensus that Israel had been attacked and that hundreds of Israeli civilians had been massacred as a justification to now “solve” the problem.

But for Netanyahu, of course, there is a dilemma. And the dilemma is this: if, as he claims, he needs absolute victory—total victory—what does that actually mean? If Hamas is eliminated from Gaza, who takes over Gaza? Who would govern it? The IDF does not want to assume that role—for good reason. It would be too costly, both in lives and in resources; it would be unsustainable. So, who would govern? The natural choice would be the Palestinian Authority—perhaps a reconfigured version of it—but ultimately, it would need to be ruled by Palestinians. And that would defeat the entire purpose of this government, which is to maintain the separation between Gaza and the West Bank, complete the operation in Gaza, and then accelerate the creeping ethnic cleansing of the West Bank. This is the situation we find ourselves in now. The dynamic this government is pursuing is the completion of ethnic cleansing and, to the extent possible, the annexation of territories in both Gaza and the West Bank.

Holocaust Memory Has Been Turned Into a License for Extreme Violence

In your New York Times and Guardian commentaries, you warn against the instrumentalization of Holocaust memory as a means of shielding the Netanyahu regime from accountability. How has the Israeli far right- particularly figures like Netanyahu and Ben-Gvir- invoked Holocaust analogies to deflect allegations of war crimes and genocide in Gaza? 

Professor Omer Bartov: I want to point out that it’s not only the far right in Israel that uses these analogies. The phenomenon is much broader. In fact, there is almost a consensus in Israeli society—ranging from the left to the far right. This has been a long process. I would argue that the use of the Holocaust as both a unifying memory for Israeli society and a license to exercise extreme violence against anyone perceived to be resisting Israeli rule and occupation, accelerated particularly in the late 1970s and early 1980s. You may recall that Israeli Prime Minister Menachem Begin—the first right-wing prime minister of Israel and a disciple of Ze’ev Jabotinsky—remarked in 1982, following the Israeli invasion of Lebanon, that Arafat, who was then in Beirut, was hunkering down in his bunker like Hitler in Berlin during World War II. These kinds of associations between Palestinians, the PLO, Hamas—and Nazis—have become embedded in the fabric of Israeli politics.

If you listen to mainstream Israeli media—which never shows images of the horrors in Gaza—they consistently refer to Hamas as Nazis. This triggers, within the Israeli public, a perception that the threat is existential, that Auschwitz is just around the corner. And if Auschwitz is around the corner, then Israel must do everything it can to prevent it and to destroy its enemies entirely. To hell with what the international community says, to hell with international law—we are fighting for our very existence. That’s the kind of rhetorical mechanism that has been perfected.

To this, Netanyahu has added a crucial element: the weaponization of anti-Semitism. Any protest against Israel—regardless of whether it comes from Jewish students on American campuses demonstrating against the atrocities in Gaza—is immediately labeled as anti-Semitism. He has succeeded in doing this to such an extent that, both in Europe—particularly in Germany—and in the United States, there has been a clampdown on these protests in the name of combating anti-Semitism.

This Isn’t Censorship—It’s Self-Mobilization

Israeli newspapers and magazines on display in the streets of Tel Aviv, December 12, 2018. Photo: Jose Hernandez.

In “Blind Spots of Genocide” (2021), you stress the need to center victims’ perspectives. In Gaza, how do Israeli media censorship and the framing of all Gazans as “Hamas” obscure or erase civilian experiences?

Professor Omer Bartov: It does, of course. But again, I want to say—when you say censorship, you’re being kind. Because on mainstream outlets, such as the public TV channel Kan 11, there is no formal censorship. There is military censorship—they can’t reveal certain information—but they have every right to report on what’s happening to Palestinians in Gaza. They choose not to, out of self-censorship. And self-censorship is a much more effective mechanism, one that has existed in the Israeli media for a long time.

My father was a journalist, and I remember that kind of self-censorship since I was a child under the Labor governments. This was not invented today. But now, at this point, it’s extraordinary—the extent of both self-censorship and the mobilization of the entire spectrum of the Israeli media—with two very small but important exceptions: Haaretz newspaper, which is reporting very bravely (in fact, some of the best reporting on the war in Gaza is coming from Haaretz itself), and Local Call or +972, which is an even smaller group of intrepid reporters.

But by and large, this is not censorship; this is self-censorship and self-mobilization. And that’s something much more difficult to fight against. In part, it has to do—as so much does in the world today—with ratings. They don’t want to alienate their own viewers by saying things the audience doesn’t want to hear. But in part, it’s that they themselves have internalized the narrative. And while they may not be particularly supportive of Netanyahu, and certainly not of the far-right elements in his government, they generally view this as a just war, and they tend to regard the killing in Gaza as, at best, lamentable collateral damage. And that’s a far worse situation than the kind of censorship that could be removed simply by changing the government.

First-Person Testimonies Will Redefine How the World Remembers Gaza

And lastly Professor Bartov, in “Between Integrated and First-Person History” (2021), you advocate for incorporating personal narratives. How might first-person Palestinian accounts reshape dominant narratives about the Gaza war and its moral consequences?

Professor Omer Bartov: So, about the Gaza war itself—I think, look, it’s deeply tragic, because so many of the reports that have come out of Gaza are not only heartbreaking; often, they are accounts by people who were themselves killed shortly afterward. But I do think these reports are increasingly having an effect around the world. Clearly, there has been a widespread failure—perhaps not an intentional one, but nonetheless real—on the part of the international media, which, being denied access to Gaza, has largely accepted this absence of reporting. It has not pressed hard enough to provide objective coverage of events inside Gaza and has, in general, paid insufficient attention to what is happening.

This has changed somewhat now because of the widespread starvation. And, as has happened in many past genocides and other forms of war crimes, there often comes a moment when certain images begin to shift public perception and draw global attention. This occurred during the war in the former Yugoslavia, for example, with the photographs of Bosniaks behind barbed wire. It also happened during the Vietnam War with the iconic image of the girl burned by napalm. Similarly, the recent images of starving children have had a profound effect—a different kind of narrative, in a way. At the very least, you see the people themselves. You see what is happening to obviously innocent children. You simply can’t present that as anything other than what it is.

I think in the future—I’ve read several such texts by people who were there and who, fortunately, managed to get out and write accounts. As a strong believer in first-person narratives—which convey what you will never hear or understand if you rely solely on top-down documentation—I believe there will be more of these stories. And I think that, eventually, our understanding of what is going on—and, once it’s over, what had gone on—will deepen significantly, and the horror will be revealed to have been even greater than we could have imagined.