Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan addresses a rally organized by the Justice and Development Party (AKP) at Istanbul Ataturk Airport ahead of the local elections in Istanbul, Turkey on March 24, 2024. Photo: Tolga Ildun.

The Transmission of Nostalgia, Threat and Unity in Populist Communication: Using AI to Analyze Erdogan and Supporters’ Speech

by AuthoritarianismCommentariesEditor’s ChoiceHome

How does Erdogan’s populist rhetoric resonate with his supporters? Our study dives into his use of nostalgia, threat, and unity to rally his base. We found that while Erdogan and his followers align on “threat” messaging—framing enemies as existential dangers—supporters amplify this far more than his calls for unity. Nostalgia for Turkey’s Ottoman past adds a powerful emotional pull, fueling his vision of a revived Islamic identity. These findings reveal how populist language not only connects leaders to their base but also reshapes grassroots narratives, driving division and loyalty in equal measure.

By Matthew J. Belanger*, Ana-Maria Bliuc, John Betts** & Ihsan Yilmaz 

Populist movements have reshaped politics worldwide, and language lies at their heart. This study explores how rhetoric may drive these movements by focusing on Recep Tayyip Erdogan, Turkey’s President, and examining three key strategies in his communication style. Crucially, it also looks at how these strategies echo in the voices of his supporters.

Populism is often defined as a specific political communication style that emphasizes proximity to the “people,” takes an anti-establishment stance, and stresses the homogeneity of the people by excluding certain segments or subgroups of the public (Jagers & Walgrave, 2007). Populist communication is typically polarizing (Bliuc et al, 2024) and juxtaposes the virtuous “people” against a “corrupt elite,” portraying the people as the sole legitimate source of political power (Bonikowski & Gidron, 2016). It combines key messages (content) with stylistic devices (form), often using social media platforms rather than traditional media (Engesser et al., 2017; Ernst et al., 2019).

Moreover, populism is often used as a strategic tool by political challengers, particularly those distant from the center of power, to mobilize support by positioning themselves as outsiders (Bonikowski & Gidron, 2016). Populist communication styles can be understood through the dimensions of identity construction, rhetorical style, and media relationship, and they can influence power relations and political actors of both right and left (Block & Negrine, 2017).

Erdogan has long been established as a populist leader. His communication during critical national events from 2013 to 2023 (for example, national and local elections, the 2016 coup attempt, or the 2017 constitutional referendum) provides an opportunity to understand what rhetorical constructions are present in his discourse and how they can be transmitted and reflected among the population.

Nostalgia has been well-documented in populist rhetoric and typically idealizes collective memories from a supposed golden age (Kenny, 2017; Karakaya, 2018; Elçi, 2021; Menke & Wulf, 2021). Threat, or division, is a further rhetorical device that describes external or internal dangers to create solidarity among supporters as well as a sense of urgency, with xenophobia and racism typically supporting such developments (Rydgren, 2003).

This paper investigates how such rhetorical devices manifest in the rhetoric of both Erdogan and his supporters. Using a combination of thematic analysis and machine learning, we analyze speeches from Erdogan alongside interview data from his grassroots supporters. This study uniquely addresses both the supply of political narratives (the leader’s messaging) and the demand for these narratives (the grassroots reception and reproduction). This allows for a direct comparison of how Erdogan’s language resonates with and influences his supporters.

Erdogan’s Populism

Erdogan’s leadership has reshaped Turkey’s political landscape through a distinctive form of populism often referred to as “civilizational populism.” As the leader of the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP), Erdogan has framed political conflicts as existential struggles between civilizational identities, casting himself and his party as defenders of Islamic values against the perceived encroachments of secular and Western influences (Yilmaz & Morieson, 2022).

Erdogan’s populist narrative constructs a stark dichotomy between the “righteous people” and the “corrupt elite.” The latter, often characterized as Westernized secularists, are portrayed as detached from Turkey’s authentic Islamic identity (Yilmaz, 2021). These narrative leverages historical grievances, particularly the exclusion of religious conservatives during the Kemalist era, to rally support (Morieson et al., 2024). By drawing upon Turkey’s Ottoman-Islamic heritage, Erdogan positions himself within a broader narrative of resistance against Western hegemony and secular modernity, aligning his leadership with the defense of an Islamic civilization (Yilmaz & Morieson, 2023; Morieson et al., 2024).

Central to Erdogan’s rhetoric is the portrayal of Turkey as besieged by both external adversaries and internal subversives. He often attributes domestic challenges to foreign conspiracies and malign influences, framing himself and his administration as the bulwark against these existential threats (Yilmaz & Shipoli, 2021; Yilmaz et al., 2021). This narrative fosters a siege mentality, consolidating support through fear and the promise of protection (Tas, 2020; Yilmaz & Morieson, 2023).

Following the failed 2016 coup attempt, Erdogan framed the incident as a plot by foreign and domestic enemies, thereby justifying widespread purges within the state and society (Yilmaz, 2021). He depicted the AKP as the ultimate safeguard of Turkey’s sovereignty and Islamic values, branding critics and opponents as traitors and adversaries of both the state and religion (Tas, 2020). He emphasizes national unity, urging all segments of society to come together under his leadership to strengthen Turkey’s cohesion. He calls for solidarity against perceived enemies, emphasizing the need to transcend ethnic, sectarian, and ideological divides to protect the “true people” of Turkey led by himself. By framing himself as the sole political force capable of safeguarding this unity, Erdogan consolidates his support base while marginalizing dissenters as disruptors of national harmony (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018; Yilmaz & Morieson, 2023).

Erdogan frequently evokes a romanticized restorative nostalgic vision of the Ottoman Empire, portraying it as a pinnacle of Islamic grandeur and cultural richness. This deliberate invocation of the past serves to cultivate a collective yearning among supporters for a return to Turkey’s former glory (Karakaya, 2018; Elçi, 2021; Yilmaz, 2021). By aligning his leadership with this illustrious heritage, Erdogan crafts a narrative suggesting his governance continues the Ottoman legacy, aiming to reestablish Turkey’s prominence on the global stage (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018; Yilmaz & Morieson, 2022).

The Study – What We Did

Our study forms part of an Australian Research Council Discovery Grant project, led by Ihsan Yilmaz and Ana-Maria Bliuc. As a component of the broader project, Erdogan’s speeches from 10 significant national events between 2013 and 2023 were systematically collected. Additionally, 52 of his supporters in Istanbul were interviewed using semi-structured format. The interviews were transcribed and translated into English. The data gathered from Erdogan’s speeches and interviews forms the foundation of our study.

The language analysis was conducted in two primary stages. An inductive thematic analysis was first performed to manually identify examples of two a priori rhetorical devices: nostalgia and threat. These two themes were then used as inputs into a seeded sequential Latent Dirichlet Allocation (LDA) model (Watanabe & Baturo, 2024) which was then used to identify language (words) associated with themes in Erdogan’s speeches. This process also revealed a third residual rhetorical device present in his discourse: unity.

Using a dictionary of thematic labels (terms related to each rhetorical device) identified using LDA, zero-shot text classification (Alcoforado et al., 2022) was then used to identify the presence of these key rhetorical sentiments in Erdogan’s speeches and his supporters’ discourse. The analysis used the xlm-roberta-large-xnli classification model (Hugging Face, 2024; Conneau, 2018) to categorize sentences into the predefined themes: Unity, Nostalgia, Threat, or None, depending on their thematic alignment. A confidence threshold of 0.85 was set to ensure classification accuracy whereby sentences above this threshold were deemed to contain these themes. The comparative analysis then identified the thematic alignment between the leader’s rhetoric and his supporters’ discourse, highlighting similarities and differences in the prevalence of the three rhetorical themes.

Results & Implications

This research quantitatively evaluates the rhetorical alignment and divergence between a populist leader and his supporters. The findings reveal that Unity (8735 sentences; 8.41%) and Threat (8500 sentences; 8.19%) were the most prevalent rhetorical devices in Erdogan’s speeches, with Nostalgia being comparatively less prominent (506 sentences; 0.49%).

Examining the sentences identified as Nostalgia, Unity, and Threat over time, it appears that the proportions of all three remained relatively consistent over time, apart from 2016 which had the highest proportion of threat discourse (i.e., during the 2016 coup).  See Figure 1 below.

Figure 1. Proportion of Unity, Threat, and Nostalgia discourse within Erdogan’s speeches over time.

Similarly, the interview data from his supporters shows Threat (1563 sentences; 5.51%) as the dominant rhetorical device, followed by Unity (700 sentences; 2.47%) and Nostalgia (52 sentences; 0.18%). These results indicate both alignment and divergence between Erdogan and his supporters, with alignment in the overall prevalence of Threat and Nostalgia, but a notable divergence in the frequency of Unity rhetoric.

The findings suggest that supporters may either amplify threat rhetoric while deprioritizing or underutilizing unity-based messaging. This could reflect a selective resonance with certain aspects of Erdogan’s rhetoric. Threat amplification (i.e., conflict-oriented narratives) may signal the emotional or strategic appeal of threat rhetoric within populist movements, while less emphasis on unity could indicate that it has limited perceived relevance or applicability in grassroots contexts.

This combination of alignment and divergence demonstrates a bit of a dichotomy with respect to rhetorical transmission. On one hand, the alignment demonstrates how populist rhetoric enters supporters’ discourse, and embeds themes of exclusion, moral division, and collective identity into their language. But, on the other hand, the divergence shows that supporters may prioritize certain themes over others based on their own interpretations or circumstances. It could also be the case that unity messaging does not carry the same level of emotional urgency that threat-based rhetoric does. While unity messaging is often framed as positive and affirming, it can lack the intensity that divisive and threatening language provides. Threat rhetoric, on the other hand, inspires more emotional responses such as fear and anger, which are more likely to provoke immediate and powerful reactions. This emotional charge may make threat-oriented messages more compelling and memorable, especially in the context of populist movements where a sense of crisis or danger is central to the narrative.

Through representations of nostalgia, threat, and unity, Erdogan builds a collective identity that contrasts many virtuous “people” with corrupt elites and this method reflects the key themes of populist communication. Our study shows that these themes are not only present in Erdogan’s speeches but are also, somewhat proportionally, internalized and reproduced in the language of his supporters. The language used by political leaders can be viewed as a tool for identity formation, as it can become embedded into the daily speech and thoughts of their followers, as demonstrated within this study. This promotes feelings of solidarity, legitimizes political power, and motivates action.

Overall, our findings show that political leaders can sustain influence over their supporters through carefully crafted rhetorical constructions that resonate with their audience’s values, emotions, and social identities. While far-right populist leaders may claim to promote unity and cohesion, their strategies often involve exploiting social divisions and consolidating national identity in ways that can ultimately reduce social trust and increase tensions between groups (Jay et al., 2019). For example, populism’s rise is closely linked to xenophobia and political violence through mechanisms of power consolidation, symbolic violence, and socio-political grievances. On top of this, nostalgic constructions create a narrative that contrasts a glorified past with a troubled present, which can further cause unrest. Understanding these dynamics is essential for addressing the challenges posed by populist movements and mitigating their impact on society.

 

Funding: This work was supported by the Australian Research Council [ARC] under Discovery Grant [DP220100829], Religious Populism, Emotions and Political Mobilisation and ARC [DP230100257] Civilisationist Mobilisation, Digital Technologies and Social Cohesion and Gerda Henkel Foundation, AZ 01/TG/21, Emerging Digital Technologies and the Future of Democracy in the Muslim World.

 

(*) Dr Matthew J. Belanger is a Lecturer in the Department of Sociology, Social Policy, and Criminology at University of Stirling, United Kingdom. He serves on the research advisory board at the Recovery Outcomes Institute and is on the board of directors at Recovery Scotland. He has a BSc in Kinesiology (2017) from the University of Massachusetts – Amherst, an MSc in Brain Sciences (2019) from the University of Glasgow, and a PhD in Addiction Psychology/Data Science (2024) from the University of Dundee, where he studied biopsychosocial factors influencing addiction recovery. Previously, he worked as a research scientist in the Department of Psychiatry and Psychotherapy at Universitaetsklinikum Carl Gustav Carus in Dresden Germany, undertaking research concerning environmental influences on behaviour. Beyond addiction recovery, Belanger’s interdisciplinary research also heavily involves the application of machine learning in sociological and political contexts.

(**) Dr. John Betts is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Data Science & AI at the Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Australia. He holds a PhD in Operations Research from Monash University, alongside qualifications in statistics, mathematics, and education. His expertise lies in computational modeling, optimization, simulation, and data science, with applications spanning social sciences, medicine, and manufacturing. His research has made significant contributions to areas such as online political behavior, prostate cancer treatment, and Just-in-Time (JIT) manufacturing. Noteworthy collaborations include studies on the influence of online influencers in societal polarization and the effects of local socio-political events on far-right online communities.

 

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New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern speaks at the Memorial Service for the Muslim victims of the Christchurch shootings, held in Christchurch, Canterbury, New Zealand, on March 29, 2019, with a significant police presence. Photo: Sheryl Watson.

Agent-Based Simulation and Linguistic Analysis of Populist vs. Non-Populist Rhetoric: Insights on Polarization and Cohesion

by AuthoritarianismCommentariesEditor’s ChoiceHomeLeadership & Persona

Our agent-based simulations show that non-populist rhetoric, exemplified by former New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern, fosters societal cohesion through positivity, inclusivity, and broad audience engagement. By maintaining a “middle ground,” it promotes civil discourse and prevents ideological divisions from deepening into polarization. Inclusive language ensures all groups feel recognized, addressing societal fractures. In contrast, populist rhetoric, typified by Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, reinforces divides through negativity and exclusion. By antagonizing outgroups and amplifying grievances, it fosters conflict and consolidates ingroup loyalty at the expense of societal harmony. This sharp contrast highlights the stabilizing potential of inclusive rhetoric versus the fragmenting impact of populist communication.

By Ana-Maria Bliuc*, John Betts** & Ihsan Yilmaz

Introduction

Charismatic leaders hold extraordinary influence over their audiences, shaping the emotional and ideological contours of polarization. Their rhetoric can intensify divisions when it is extreme or reduce tensions when it emphasizes inclusivity and moderation (Betts & Bliuc, 2022; Bliuc et al., 2023; Bliuc et al., 2024). Through emotional appeals, they cultivate trust, admiration, and even anger, channeling these emotions into collective action. However, this influence is complex: emotional appeals often create feedback loops that deepen loyalty while perpetuating divisive rhetoric. The “awestruck effect,” where followers suppress their emotions in response to a leader’s overwhelming presence, highlights the intensity of this dynamic. Additionally, charisma can be contagious, fostering intra-group cohesion while amplifying intergroup polarization.

This article explores how populist and non-populist rhetoric influences societal polarization, focusing on the speeches of Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and former New Zealand Prime Minister Jacinda Ardern between 2017 and 2023. We present preliminary findings from our ongoing research, which uses linguistic analysis and computational modelling to understand how their communication styles shape societal dynamics. Erdogan’s speeches often reflect populist tendencies, using divisive language to define “the people” in opposition to “the elite” and “the others,” reinforcing group divisions. In contrast, Ardern’s rhetoric emphasizes inclusivity and optimism, promoting unity and social cohesion. These contrasting approaches offer valuable insights into the role of leadership communication in fostering either polarization or cohesion.

Our analysis uses tools such as Linguistic Inquiry and Word Count (LIWC) and Natural Language Processing (NLP) to examine the tone, content, and inclusivity of their speeches. Additionally, we apply an agent-based model (ABM) to simulate how these rhetorical styles influence societal divisions over time. The ABM treats individuals as “agents” with distinct responses to messages, allowing us to explore how individual reactions can shape larger societal trends like polarization or unity. This ongoing research aims to shed light on how leaders’ rhetoric impacts societal cohesion or division. This preliminary analysis offers critical insights into how political communication shapes group dynamics, paving the way for further exploration of its long-term effects on societal cohesion or division.

Populists and Polarization

Populism is often a significant driver of societal polarization. Populist leaders, particularly those with charismatic appeal, play a central role in driving polarization. Their rhetoric often mobilizes emotions such as anger and fear, framing societal divides as existential battles (Inglehart & Norris, 2016). Right-wing populists tend to focus on issues like immigration and national sovereignty, while left-wing populists emphasize economic inequality and social justice. Regardless of ideological orientation, their communication strategies frequently amplify societal divisions by fostering in-group loyalty and out-group hostility (Hawkins, 2009).

Populist leaders often employ divisive rhetoric that frames societal conflicts as a struggle between a virtuous “people” and a corrupt “elite,” thereby deepening societal divisions. This “us versus them” narrative simplifies complex issues and fosters an environment of distrust and animosity among different social groups. The emotional and moralistic language used by populists can exacerbate polarization by reinforcing in-group solidarity while marginalizing out-groups. The relationship between populism and polarization is particularly acute in contexts where political institutions are weak or trust in governance is low.

Erdogan’s Populism

Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan addresses a rally organized by the Justice and Development Party (AKP) at Istanbul Ataturk Airport ahead of the local elections in Istanbul, Turkey on March 24, 2024. Photo: Tolga Ildun.

Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s populism has become a defining feature of Turkey’s contemporary political landscape. His leadership, particularly as head of the Justice and Development Party (AKP), illustrates a shift towards “civilizational populism.” This approach frames political conflicts not merely in terms of domestic divides but as existential struggles between competing civilizational identities, with Erdogan positioning himself and the AKP as defenders of Islamic values against secular and Western influences (Yilmaz & Morieson, 2022).

Erdogan’s populist rhetoric constructs a binary between the “pure and virtuous people” and the “corrupt elite,” with the latter often described as Westernized secularists who are portrayed as out of touch with Turkey’s authentic Islamic identity. This narrative draws on historical grievances, including the marginalization of religious conservatives during the Kemalist era, to galvanize his base. By invoking Turkey’s Ottoman-Islamic heritage, Erdogan aligns himself with a broader “Islamic civilization” and situates his leadership within a narrative of resistance to Western domination and secular modernity (Yilmaz & Morieson 2023; Morieson et al., 2024).

One hallmark of Erdogan’s populism is his strategic use of crises to consolidate power and deepen polarization. For example, in the aftermath of the 2016 failed coup attempt, Erdogan framed the event as an existential threat orchestrated by foreign conspirators and domestic traitors, which justified the purging of perceived enemies within the state and society. His narrative positioned the AKP as the sole protector of national sovereignty and religious values, marginalizing dissenters as enemies of the state and Islam (Tas, 2020). Civilizational populism also extends to Erdogan’s foreign policy. His rhetoric frequently portrays Turkey as the leader of the Muslim world, defending Islamic interests against a hostile West (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018).

Jacinda Ardern’s Leadership and Inclusive Rhetoric

Jacinda Ardern’s leadership as Prime Minister of New Zealand (2017–2023) offers a compelling example of how inclusive and empathetic rhetoric can foster societal cohesion in a world increasingly divided by polarization. Unlike populist leaders who often amplify divisions through exclusivity and antagonism, Ardern’s communication style is characterized by optimism, inclusivity, and a focus on collective well-being. Her leadership emphasized unity over division and shared values over antagonistic narratives.

One of the defining moments of Ardern’s tenure was her response to the 2019 Christchurch Mosque attacks, in which 51 people lost their lives in an act of white supremacist terrorism. Ardern’s immediate response, marked by empathy and solidarity, included public expressions of grief, wearing a hijab to demonstrate respect for Muslim communities, and categorically denouncing hate. Her government’s “Wellbeing Budget,” introduced in 2019, shifted the focus of governance from traditional economic indicators to measures of societal well-being, such as mental health, child poverty, and environmental sustainability. During the COVID-19 pandemic, Ardern’s empathetic communication style played a pivotal role in maintaining public trust and compliance. Her use of direct communication through social media, coupled with clear and consistent messaging, fostered a sense of unity and shared purpose (Craig, 2021). 

Unlike the divisive strategies often employed by populist leaders such as Erdogan, Ardern’s rhetoric consistently avoided antagonism, focusing instead on fostering dialogue and inclusivity. Her communication style offers an alternative to traditional populism, highlighting the capacity of empathetic and inclusive leadership to bridge divides and promote societal cohesion.

Contrasts in Rhetorical Styles

The analysis of speeches delivered by Erdogan and Ardern highlights striking contrasts in their rhetorical styles. Erdogan’s speeches are characterized by brevity, negativity, and exclusivity, with an average length of 430 words compared to Ardern’s more expansive 2,051 words. His frequent appeals to a specific ingroup and the simultaneous exclusion or demonization of outgroups reflect a populist approach. This rhetoric employs divisive language that frames societal dynamics in binary terms: a virtuous “us” versus a corrupt or threatening “them.” Language tokens show the content of his speeches to be focused on Turkey’s prominence in the world (“nation,” “future,” “great,” “world”). This type of communication reinforces group boundaries, creating a heightened sense of identity among ingroup members while fostering animosity toward outgroups.

By contrast, Ardern’s speeches are characterized by inclusivity, positivity, and a focus on shared national identity. Her use of inclusive language, such as incorporating Māori terms like “koutou” (you all) and “katoa” (all), underscores her commitment to addressing diverse audiences as part of a unified whole. This rhetoric not only bridges ideological and cultural divides but also actively works to foster cohesion. By framing political challenges as collective issues requiring mutual effort, Ardern cultivates a sense of solidarity and reduces the potential for societal polarization.

Emotional Tone

A key finding of our study is the role of emotional tone in driving or mitigating polarization. Erdogan’s speeches often employ fear, anger, and grievance to mobilize his base. He also makes a greater use of words belonging to categories such as “power,” “politics,” “authority” compared to Ardern. These emotional appeals resonate strongly with ingroup members but simultaneously alienate outgroup members, fostering an antagonistic environment. The cyclical nature of such rhetoric—where repeated exposure reinforces emotional divides—intensifies polarization over time.

Ardern’s positive emotional appeals focus on empathy, hope, and collective well-being. This is evident in the greater prevalence of terms from categories like “perception,” “authentic,” “insight” compared to Erdogan. These messages resonate across diverse groups, creating an emotional connection that fosters trust and mutual respect. This ability to evoke positive emotions while addressing collective concerns makes inclusive rhetoric particularly effective in promoting cohesion and mitigating polarization.

Audience Reach

Another critical factor is the scope of a leader’s audience reach. Erdogan’s targeted approach speaks primarily to his ingroup, limiting the broader appeal of his message. This narrow scope ensures that his rhetoric resonates deeply with a specific subset of society but fails to engage or persuade others. His targeted communication exacerbates divisions by leaving outgroups feeling excluded and marginalized.

In contrast, Ardern’s broad reach allows her rhetoric to address diverse segments of society. By framing her messages in inclusive terms, she creates a sense of belonging among a wider audience. This broad appeal reduces the likelihood of polarization by fostering dialogue and understanding across ideological and cultural divides.

Broader Implications of Leadership Communication

The findings illustrate that the tone and reach of a leader’s rhetoric are as critical as its content in shaping societal dynamics. Erdogan’s populist approach leverages exclusionary narratives to consolidate ingroup loyalty but at the cost of societal cohesion. Ardern’s inclusive style demonstrates the potential for leadership to bridge divides and foster unity, even in challenging contexts.

These results have implications for understanding the role of political communication in contemporary society. They highlight the dual-edged nature of rhetoric: while it can mobilize and inspire, it can also divide and alienate. Leaders, therefore, carry a significant responsibility in shaping the emotional and ideological landscape of their societies.

Agent-Based Simulation: A Window into Long-Term Impacts

The Agent-Based Model (ABM) is a powerful analytical tool that simulates the way individuals interact within a society. In this case, we used it to explore how different rhetorical styles may shape public beliefs over time. This method allowed us to test the long-term effects of leaders’ communication styles in a controlled virtual environment, offering insights into their potential societal impact.

The agent-based simulations provide a unique perspective on the long-term effects of rhetorical styles. They show how individual responses to rhetoric can aggregate into broader societal trends. In Erdogan’s case, targeted, negative rhetoric creates a feedback loop of polarization. Even if the frequency of such rhetoric decreases, its polarizing effects persist due to the entrenched divisions it creates.

In contrast, Ardern’s inclusive rhetoric has a stabilizing effect. By fostering dialogue and promoting mutual understanding, her communication style helps build resilience against external shocks that might otherwise exacerbate societal divisions. These findings highlight the potential of positive, inclusive rhetoric to mitigate the destabilizing impact of populist communication.

The results show stark contrasts between these approaches. Ardern’s speeches were longer, more positive, and emphasized inclusivity and shared national identity. Her frequent use of inclusive language, including Māori terms reinforced this approach. Erdogan’s speeches, by contrast, were shorter, more negative, and often appealed to a specific in-group while excluding the out-group. When modelled over time using agent-based simulations, these rhetorical styles produced markedly different effects. Erdogan’s negative, targeted rhetoric deepened societal divisions, driving bipolarization. His exclusionary language reinforced pre-existing divides, ensuring polarization persisted even when communication was less frequent. Ardern’s inclusive and positive rhetoric, however, promoted cohesion by stabilizing the “middle ground,” where disagreements occurred without escalating into entrenched polarization. Her approach acted as a mitigating force, countering the effects of external shocks or crises that might otherwise deepen divisions.

Our study also highlights the importance of context in shaping the effects of rhetoric. Erdogan’s rhetoric resonates strongly in a political environment marked by economic challenges, geopolitical tensions, and cultural divisions. These conditions amplify the appeal of populist narratives that frame societal problems as the fault of external adversaries or internal enemies.

Ardern’s rhetoric, on the other hand, is tailored to a context emphasizing collective well-being, inclusivity, and national identity. Her communication style aligns with New Zealand’s cultural emphasis on egalitarianism and community, enhancing its effectiveness in fostering cohesion. These contextual factors demonstrate that the impact of rhetoric is not solely determined by the leader’s style but also by the broader social and political environment in which it is delivered.

Conclusion

The findings of this study underscore the profound impact of political rhetoric on societal polarization. Non-populist rhetoric, characterized by its positive tone, inclusivity, and broad audience reach, emerges as a critical tool for fostering societal cohesion. By maintaining a “solid middle ground,” such rhetoric enables civil disagreements while preventing ideological divisions from escalating into entrenched polarization. Inclusive language ensures that both ingroups and outgroups feel recognized and valued, addressing the psychological and ideological fractures that often underlie societal tensions.

In contrast, populist rhetoric, with its negative tone and narrow audience focus, deepens divides by reinforcing group boundaries and antagonizing outgroups. The polarizing effect of this rhetoric lies not only in its content but in its delivery—its ability to heighten conflict, amplify grievances, and consolidate ingroup loyalty at the expense of broader societal harmony. By appealing to exclusionary identities and emotional grievances, populist leaders exacerbate societal fragmentation, leading to a more divided and contentious public sphere.

For policymakers and practitioners, these findings highlight the necessity of prioritizing communication strategies that unite rather than divide. The tone and delivery of a leader’s message can determine whether disagreements are addressed constructively or exacerbate social cleavages. This calls for a re-evaluation of political discourse, focusing on strategies that emphasize shared values and mutual respect. While these preliminary findings highlight the power of rhetoric to shape group dynamics, further investigation is needed to fully understand the long-term implications of these communication styles in diverse contexts.

 

Funding: This work was supported by the Australian Research Council [ARC] under Discovery Grant [DP220100829], Religious Populism, Emotions and Political Mobilisation and ARC [DP230100257] Civilisationist Mobilisation, Digital Technologies and Social Cohesion.

 

(*) Dr. Ana-Maria Bliuc is an Associate Professor of Social and Political Psychology in the Psychology Department at the University of Dundee, where she has been a faculty member since 2019. Her research explores how social identities influence behavior across various contexts, including health, environmental issues (such as climate change), and socio-political domains (such as collective action and social change). Recently, her work has focused on online communities, investigating how collective identities and behaviors are shaped through digital interactions.

(**) Dr. John Betts is a Senior Lecturer in the Department of Data Science & AI at the Faculty of Information Technology, Monash University, Australia. He holds a PhD in Operations Research from Monash University, alongside qualifications in statistics, mathematics, and education. His expertise lies in computational modeling, optimization, simulation, and data science, with applications spanning social sciences, medicine, and manufacturing. His research has made significant contributions to areas such as online political behavior, prostate cancer treatment, and Just-in-Time (JIT) manufacturing. Noteworthy collaborations include studies on the influence of online influencers in societal polarization and the effects of local socio-political events on far-right online communities.

 

References  

Betts, J. M. & Bliuc, A. M. (2022). “The effect of influencers on societal polarization.” In: 2022 Winter Simulation Conference (WSC) (pp. 370-381). IEEE.  

Bliuc, A. M.; Betts, J. M.; Vergani, M.; Bouguettaya, A. & Cristea, M. (2024). “A theoretical framework for polarization as the gradual fragmentation of a divided society.” Communications Psychology, 2(1), 75. https://doi.org/10.1038/s44271-024-00125-1

Bliuc, A.M.; Cristea, M. & Betts, J. (2023). The role of charismatic influencers in polarisation: an agent-based modelling approach. Paper presented at 19th General Meeting of the European Association of Social Psychology (EASP), Krakow, Poland.

Craig, G. (2021). “Kindness and Control: The Political Leadership of Jacinda Ardern in the Aotearoa New Zealand COVID-19 Media Conferences.” Journalism and Media, 2(2), 288-304. https://doi.org/10.3390/journalmedia2020017

Hawkins, K. A. (2009). “Is Chávez Populist? Measuring Populist Discourse in Comparative Perspective. “Comparative Political Studies, 42(8), 1040–1067. https://doi.org/10.1177/0010414009331721

Inglehart, R., & Norris, P. (2016). “Trump, Brexit, and the rise of populism: Economic have-nots and cultural backlash.” HKS Faculty Research Working Paper Series. https://doi.org/10.2139/ssrn.2818659

Morieson, Nicholas; Yilmaz, Ihsan & Kenes, Bulent. (2024). “From National to Manufactured: The Evolution of the AKP’s Victimhood Narratives.” Populism & Politics (P&P). European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). September 6, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/pp0040        

Tas, H. (2020). “The chronopolitics of Erdogan’s populism in Turkey.” International Political Science Review, 41(4), 632–646. https://doi.org/10.1177/0192512119885444

Yilmaz, I., & Bashirov, G. (2018). “The AKP after 15 years: Emergence of Erdoganism in Turkey.” Third World Quarterly, 39(9), 1812–1830. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2018.1447371

Yilmaz, I., & Morieson, N. (2022). “Civilizational Populism in Domestic and Foreign Policy: The Case of Turkey.” Religions, 14(5), 631. https://doi.org/10.3390/rel14050631

Yilmaz, I. & Morieson, N. (2023). “Civilizational Populism: Definition, Literature, Theory, and Practice.” In: Religions and the Global Rise of Civilizational Populism. (pp. 1-22). Springer. https://doi.org/10.1007/978-981-99-4262-6_2

Members of the All India Muslim Students Federation (MSF) protest against the Karnataka Government's Hijab ban in educational institutions, at Delhi University, New Delhi, India, on February 9, 2022. Photo: Pradeep Gaurs.

Professor Tanweer Fazal: Otherization is a Deliberate Project in India

by AuthoritarianismEditor’s ChoiceHomeInterviewsUncategorized

Professor Tanweer Fazal emphasizes that “otherization is primarily a deliberate process rather than something inherently embedded in a culture.” He explains how this systematic targeting involves mobilizing economic, cultural, historical, and political resources to marginalize specific communities. Reflecting on the state’s role, Professor Fazal critiques its evolving relationship with secularism and justice. He notes a shift in the post-2014 political landscape, observing, “The state has increasingly abandoned its efforts to project a secular or morally incorruptible image,” instead embracing a majoritarian framework.

Interview by Mukesh Kulriya*

In this engaging and insightful conversation, Professor Tanweer Fazal, a distinguished sociologist from the University of Hyderabad, discusses the intricate and deliberate process of otherization in India. As part of the podcast Countering Religious Hate: Music as Mitigation Strategy, hosted by Mukesh Kulriya and supported by the Initiative to Study Hate at UCLA, the interview delves into the intersections of communal violence, state practices, cultural initiatives such as music festivals to counter hate, and the persistent challenges of justice and reconciliation in South Asia.

Professor Fazal emphasizes that “otherization is primarily a deliberate process rather than something inherently embedded in a culture.” He explains how this systematic targeting involves mobilizing economic, cultural, historical, and political resources to marginalize specific communities. Drawing from his extensive research, he highlights historical examples, such as the plight of the Meo Muslims in Rajasthan during the 1940s, and connects them to contemporary practices, such as the exclusionary mechanisms of the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) and the National Register of Citizens (NRC).

Reflecting on the state’s role, Professor Fazal critiques its evolving relationship with secularism and justice. He notes a shift in the post-2014 political landscape, observing, “The state has increasingly abandoned its efforts to project a secular or morally incorruptible image,” instead embracing a majoritarian framework. He underscores how this transformation impacts justice delivery, reconciliation, and the ability of cultural interventions, such as Sufi music or Kabir performances, to counter hate and divisiveness.

The discussion also explores the concept of the “national public” and its symbolic, context-dependent emergence. Professor Fazal argues that the idea of a unified national public in India is more a constructed narrative than an objective reality. “In India, when we talk about the public, we must actually consider ‘publics,’” he remarks, highlighting the country’s linguistic, cultural, and communal diversity. He further elaborates on the disparity in how nationalistic expressions—such as advocating for Khalistan versus calling for a Hindu state—are treated within India’s legal and political frameworks.

Through this thought-provoking conversation, Professor Fazal illuminates how the state, public, and cultural practices intersect to shape and perpetuate the process of otherization in India. This interview offers a critical lens for understanding the broader implications of these dynamics and the potential paths forward in addressing hate and fostering inclusivity.

Professor Tanweer Fazal, a distinguished sociologist from the University of Hyderabad.

Here is the transcription of the interview with Professor Tanweer Fazal with some edits.

Otherization Is Not a Fixed or Stable Phenomenon

Thank you so much, Professor Fazal, for joining me today. It’s truly an honor to have you here. While I’ve been following your public talks for over a decade, this is the first time I’ve directly connected my research to your work, and it has made me realize just how relevant your book is. My project primarily focuses on music, but I’ve come to understand that it’s impossible to study music in isolation from the broader societal context. This particular study is part of a larger initiative called the Initiative to Study Hate. It involves interdisciplinary efforts across fields like media studies, history, and neuroscience, aiming to understand how processes of otherization and hate operate. To set the stage, could you provide a brief overview of the process of otherization? I understand it’s a broad question, but a historical perspective would help our audience better understand the foundations and dynamics of otherization.

Professor Tanweer Fazal:  In my view, otherization is primarily a deliberate process rather than something inherently embedded in a culture. It is actively driven by agents or proponents who target specific groups, aiming to marginalize or exclude them from various facets of social life—economic, cultural, historical, and political. Otherization, therefore, involves a deliberate mobilization of resources across these domains to target a group or community.

Importantly, otherization is not a fixed or stable phenomenon. The groups that become targets can shift over time, and the relationships between those who are otherized and those who perpetrate the process can also change, depending on power dynamics and the mobilization of political resources. History provides numerous examples of this.

For instance, in my study of Sikh politics, I found that Sikhs were once seen as integral to the imagination of Indian nationhood. However, during events like the Punjabi Suba Movement in the 1960s and the violence surrounding 1984, we witnessed a shift, where the Sikh community was otherized and subjected to systemic violence. This transformation demonstrates how power relations and political circumstances can alter the dynamics of otherization.

Similarly, in contemporary contexts, otherization remains a deliberate and strategic process. A clear example is the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA), which is designed to reshape citizenship laws in a way that marginalizes a particular community—in this case, Muslims. The immediate impact is seen in groups like the Muslim Bengalis excluded from the National Register of Citizens (NRC) in Assam. This legal framework exemplifies how otherization operates in specific contexts today. 

The Role of Selective Histories and Symbols in Constructing Exclusion

You’ve provided a broad perspective, and I’d like to focus on a couple of specific aspects. Could you elaborate on the historical and cultural dimensions of this process? From my limited understanding and experience in the field, it seems that the social circumstances of a community—in this case, Muslims—have been weaponized by the Hindu right-wing. They appear to draw upon their interpretation of history and culture, using these narratives to validate and reinforce their biases. Could you expand on this interplay and how historical and cultural narratives are mobilized in this way?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: If you’d like me to be specific, let me take the example of Rajasthan, particularly the events in the 1940s, around 1945-46, in the Alwar and Bharatpur regions. During this period, a very targeted campaign of violence was directed against a section of Muslims known as the Meo Muslims. The Meos, who originate from Rajasthan, have a unique history. At some point, they chose to convert to Islam for various reasons while maintaining syncretic practices. Within families, they often observed both Hindu rituals and Islamic traditions. Some even adopted dual names—one Sanskritic and another Arabic or Persian.

Alwar and Bharatpur, then princely states, came under the influence of organizations like the Vishwa Hindu Parishad (then the Hindu Mahasabha). As the process of decolonization began and discussions about a new independent nation gained momentum, Muslims in this region, particularly the Meos, became targeted. This was also the time when the Pakistan movement had gained traction, fueling an atmosphere of hate. The Meos, despite their deep integration with local customs and practices, were increasingly portrayed as part of the “Pakistan project.”

A concerted effort was made to either force the Meos to convert entirely to Hinduism—through processes like Shuddhi—or to drive them out. Many who resisted were subjected to violence, with an estimated 30,000 to 40,000 killed. Those who did not wish to migrate to Pakistan were often forced to do so. However, after arriving in Pakistan, many Meos immediately sought to return to India due to their cultural and historical ties to the Mewat region. Bureaucratic hurdles, like the permit system described in Vazira Zamindar’s work, made their return nearly impossible.

The tragic irony lies in how a community, so closely aligned in customs, practices, and even worship with the local Hindu population, was systematically otherized. Selective histories and symbols were used to construct a narrative of exclusion and vilification. This is the power of otherization: it selectively targets communities, weaponizes history, and imposes identities that may not align with the community’s own understanding of itself.

Even today, the Mewat region remains a hotspot for communal targeting. Reports of lynching by Gau Rakshaks (cow vigilantes) are frequent, with these groups often supported by the state machinery, including the Rajasthan police. During my interviews with some BJP MLAs from the region, they perpetuated allegations against the Meo community, accusing them of being aligned with international Islamic designs, linked to terror networks, and receiving foreign funding for madrasas. These narratives are repeated in public discourse to justify ongoing targeting and violence, making extermination appear acceptable. 

So, in a sense, what we are speaking of all the history is not a history, it is present in a sense?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: Yes, you are right!

The experience of the Meo Muslims in 1946 is significant, but it didn’t start then, nor did it end there—it began earlier and continues to this day. In your writing, you’ve described this process as cumulative, a phenomenon that builds over time and persists. I recall speaking to a few singers in the Jodhpur region around 2015-16, including a singer named Chidia Bai, who used to perform songs dedicated to Hindu goddesses. She shared how, during communal violence, her patron pointed out her Muslim identity. That moment marked the first time she realized her identity as a Muslim was not fluid—it was something imposed on her by others. Until then, her identity had been much more open; she identified as a Muslim but was equally accepted as a singer for goddesses. This highlights how cultural practices once characterized by openness and fluidity have been overshadowed by rigid identity constructs imposed by external forces. It underscores that this is not just a historical phenomenon but an ongoing project that continues to shape lives and communities.

Professor Tanweer Fazal: History is never truly in the past; it is often more present than we realize. It continues to shape our understanding and experiences today, influencing how we comprehend both the past and the present. This is especially true in the case of the Muslims in Rajasthan, particularly those from specific regions.

Since 2014, the Indian State Has Shifted Away from Projecting a Secular Image

India’s Prime Minister, Shri Narendra Modi visits Gurdwara Rakabganj Sahib to pay tribute to Guru Teg Bahadur, in New Delhi on December 20, 2020. Photo: Shutterstuck.

Otherization is a long and continuous process, but at times, it escalates into collective violence. The terminology we use to describe these events—be it riots, pogroms, or collective violence—also shapes the political and social understanding of such phenomena. Given that the state is the custodian of law and order, how does it operate in these situations? While the state may not always intervene in the everyday process of otherization, its role in instances of targeted violence is crucial. Historically, what has the state’s role been in such cases, particularly when it comes to enabling or preventing these acts of violence?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: My book, which you referred to, examines the practices of the state, focusing on how it operates as a structure with a network of institutions, legal frameworks, hierarchies, and codified rules. This gives us an image of the modern state as a rational actor. However, alongside this idealized notion, it is essential to analyze the state in terms of its practices, where we often find discrepancies between the ideal and the real.

For example, when we consider the Indian Constitution, it presents itself as an ideal document—framing India as a secular state, outlining a socialist pattern of the economy, and offering a framework for governance. Yet, in practice, the state frequently fails to uphold these ideals, often only coming close or falling short entirely. This discrepancy is particularly evident when analyzing the state’s role in cases of otherization, minoritization, and collective violence.

Looking at the colonial state, its approach to inter-religious or inter-community conflicts was often driven by the imperative to maintain public order. To preserve the status quo, the colonial state avoided disrupting long-standing traditions or practices. For example, disputes over religious processions and their routes were often resolved by adhering to established practices, such as ensuring processions followed routes that had been used for generations, even if they passed through minority areas. This approach aimed to avoid conflict by maintaining societal equilibrium, even if it perpetuated existing inequalities.

In the post-independence period, the Indian state grappled with competing ideological forces. On the one hand, leaders like Nehru championed a secular ideological framework. On the other hand, nationalist leaders with right-wing tendencies often sought to address what they perceived as historical injustices against the majority community. For example, cases like the reopening of the Somnath temple and the Ayodhya dispute reveal how nationalist leaders, such as Govind Ballabh Pant, played roles in decisions that catered to these sentiments.

Thomas Blom Hansen provides a useful framework to understand this dynamic, describing the state as having two cultural constructions: the “sublime state” and the “profane state.” In instances of collective violence, the state often projects its “sublime” image—a just state committed to protecting victims and upholding morality. This is evident in measures like the institution of commissions of inquiry or efforts to prosecute perpetrators, which help the state maintain its moral high ground.

However, the everyday experience of vulnerable communities often reflects the “profane” state—a reality characterized by systemic violence, police brutality, and discrimination. For marginalized groups, such as slum dwellers or minorities, encounters with the state are frequently marked by oppression and injustice.

Post-2014, there appears to be a shift in the state’s approach. The state has increasingly abandoned its efforts to project a secular or morally incorruptible image. Instead, it has embraced a majoritarian, triumphalist framework, openly signaling its commitment to upholding the supremacy of dominant ideologies. This shift is evident in the state’s response to hate crimes, such as lynching. Perpetrators often receive bail, are celebrated, or even elevated to positions of political power. Figures like Sadhvi Pragya exemplify this trend, where those associated with divisive or violent acts are celebrated rather than censured.

Music Has Often Been Used as an Instrument of Polarization

The Hindu New Year Parade (Gudhi Padva) is an annual celebration held on Girgaon, South Mumbai, featuring musicians, dancers, and artists from various parts of India on March 18, 2018. Photo: Snehal Jeevan Pailkar.

This discussion has provided valuable insight into how the dynamics of violence and the state’s role have evolved. You mentioned religious processions as a point of contention. I’d like to delve deeper into this. Historically, colonial records often attribute communal violence to disputes over religious processions and their routes. Julian Anthony Lynch argues that music was not merely a factor of animosity but actively used as a tool to differentiate Hindus and Muslims. From my fieldwork and limited reading, I’ve observed that music tends to be more accepted within popular and even orthodox Hinduism, whereas in Islam, it is embraced in popular practice but not necessarily within orthodox frameworks. For example, in 1893, when Tilak initiated the Ganesh Chaturthi and Shivaji celebrations, the songs sung during these events often contained anti-Muslim rhetoric. This continuity in rhetoric can also be seen in today’s Hindutva pop music, which, while quantitatively and qualitatively different, still carries similar themes. Could you elaborate on the intersection of politics, processions, religion, and culture, and how these elements have historically contributed to communal tensions and violence?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: You’ve raised an important point. Music, like any form of communication, is a powerful medium that can be used in multiple ways. Its impact depends on the intent behind its use. There are countless examples where music has served as a bridge between cultures, fostering fusion, borrowing, and adaptation of lyrics and customs to create harmony. However, music has also been employed in highly divisive ways.

You’re absolutely right that music has often been used as an instrument of polarization. Historically, and even today, communal tensions have erupted due to the use of loud music during sensitive times, such as the namaz, or through provocative processions. For instance, processions during Ram Navami continue to deliberately pass through areas prone to conflict, playing inflammatory content, which often leads to skirmishes or even outright violence. This strategy has been revived by right-wing groups but has roots in colonial practices where such processions were tools to provoke unrest.

I would argue that we should view this within the context of the emergence of electoral politics. Electoral politics inherently require the mobilization of people, and processions serve as a convenient tool for this purpose. For instance, if one engages in class politics or politics based on social justice, it necessitates a process of raising consciousness as part of the political effort.

In contrast, divisive politics—often based on religion or similar forms of hate-driven polarization—operates at a more primal level, appealing to basic instincts. These instincts stem from being born into a particular culture or community, often accompanied by latent prejudices about “the other.” Such prejudices are then cultivated and amplified, with boundaries drawn and myths created to reinforce these divisions.

Music, in this context, plays a supporting role. It is a powerful instrument that can be harnessed to serve these broader political agendas. While music alone cannot incite violence, it can contribute to the atmosphere of polarization and hate when intertwined with a political strategy centered around division and conflict.

This brings me to the idea of culture—a shared experience among people living in a particular space and time, even if they belong to different castes, classes, or genders. While this shared culture provides common ground, it also comes with its own complexities. In this context, what are your thoughts on the use of music by the state or police departments as a tool to counter religious hate? For instance, there have been instances where the police have used the same locations where baton charges or water cannons were employed to host musical events, seemingly as an attempt to rewire the collective memory of those spaces. On the surface, this appears to be a creative and positive initiative. However, how do you view the use of music with specifically religious contours in this context? I’m not referring to strictly Hindu or Muslim music but devotional or Sufi music, which carries elements of collective culture but is also deeply tied to religion. How do you perceive the police employing such music as a tool? And more specifically, how do you interpret the use of religiously influenced music to counter hatred rooted in religious differences?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: On the surface, it appears to be a noble exercise, and there is no harm in trying and testing such initiatives. However, as I mentioned, music is merely a means of communication. Music itself cannot bring peace, nor can it incite violence, but there is a politics surrounding its use. Unless the police department addresses the underlying politics of violence, this will remain an artificial exercise. It may be symbolic, but it does not address the experiences of those who have suffered violence. In fact, I suspect it might suggest that people should forget what happened in the past, erase it from their memory, and instead focus on the alternative narratives being offered.

However, as observed in various instances of violent eruptions, if the question of justice remains unaddressed, no amount of reconciliation will be effective. Reconciliation may temporarily mitigate conflict, but the tensions could erupt again unless justice is delivered. Justice must be a collective process—clearly communicated in terms of why it is being delivered, the principles behind it, and how it is being implemented.

For instance, those arrested in events like Karsewa should fully understand why they were arrested, the nature of the crime, and the rationale for the actions taken against them. This approach would also help restore the image of the state as a just entity that upholds the rule of law and stands above societal power dynamics. The state must not be perceived as taking one side over the other.

In cases of caste violence, for example, it is often a foregone conclusion among lower castes that the police and the local state will intervene on behalf of the upper castes. As long as this perception persists, no amount of reconciliatory effort will change the situation unless there is a genuine effort to ensure justice. 

So, I would argue that justice must accompany all symbolic efforts. Without it, such initiatives will not succeed, and I don’t believe they will have the desired impact.

Symbolic Struggles Risk Benefiting the Hindutva Project

Volunteers of Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (RSS) on Vijyadashmi festival, a large gathering or annual meeting during Ramanavami a Hindu festival in Ghaziabad, Uttar Pradesh on October 19, 2018. Photo: Pradeep Gaurs.

I have two questions related to this initiative—one focusing on its conception and the other on its outcomes. When this initiative was conceptualized, it seems to have drawn inspiration from global policing practices that address communities perceived as moving toward fundamentalism. One observation I’ve made is the apparent lack of contradiction, for some, between participating in events like the Rajasthan Kabir Yatra and aligning with the Hindutva ecosystem. For them, figures like Kabir and related practices are seen as part of their cultural and religious heritage. Given this, how slippery is the use of religious elements, such as devotional music or cultural icons, to counter religious hate? The challenge lies in the fact that we cannot control how these texts, songs, or symbols are received, no matter how well-argued or well-intentioned the initiative may be. What are your thoughts on this tension, and how might such initiatives navigate this ambiguity?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: That’s where I was trying to suggest that while the exercise can be noble and the intention good, it must address what is fundamentally missing. Without doing so, it will remain a one-off exercise that could go in any direction. Even then, one cannot be certain of how it will be received, as reception depends on various factors: the history of violence, the history of inter-community relationships, and the extent to which those relationships persist. This is especially true in dominant versus non-dominant relationships.

You’re right to point out the issue with de-radicalization projects. These initiatives often fail to consider the radicalization of the majority and instead focus on elements within the minority. However, the reasons for minority radicalization often lie in the larger social or political context, which these projects overlook. Without addressing the broader socio-political factors, the assumption that individuals can simply be brought back into the mainstream is flawed.

While processes toward radicalization exist in all communities, they gain attention and followers only when a conducive larger context exists. If the larger context is accommodating and inclusive, radicalization efforts are less likely to succeed. Take the Zakir Naik phenomenon, for instance. Naik, as a televangelist, gained a following in India but did not incite political action along those lines. This, I believe, was partly due to the earlier phase of Indian nationalism, which, while not entirely empowering for minorities, was to some extent accommodative of their cultural expressions. This inclusivity extended not only to religious minorities but also to linguistic ones, which is why linguistic separatist nationalism did not pose a significant challenge in most parts of India, with exceptions like Kashmir or parts of the Northeast.

However, this accommodative framework has altered. Today, the predominant socio-political atmosphere is highly prejudiced—a condition that has been politically produced and therefore needs a political response. Cultural processes can contribute, but they cannot succeed on their own while the political project remains unchanged.

This is where efforts must focus. The police, for instance, could rise above partisan considerations and present themselves as enablers for those targeted by violence. Reports from states like Jharkhand, however, often highlight police inaction and partisanship, which undermines trust. Addressing these issues could make symbolic efforts like promoting Sufi music helpful. But on their own, such initiatives are unlikely to succeed.

Regarding Kabir Panthis, there has long been a belief, especially among comrades from UP and elsewhere, that countering Hindutva requires embracing cultural practices and critiques emerging from within Hinduism itself. These include anti-Brahminical traditions and sects, which have historically challenged orthodox Hinduism. However, many of these movements have now been co-opted into the Hindutva project.

Hindutva, as I see it, is not a Brahminical philosophy. Brahminical philosophy is traditionalist and conservative, and at times, Hindutva is uncomfortable with it. Hindutva is a nationalist project that seeks to co-opt various tendencies within the broader framework of a majoritarian Hindu nation. For instance, it does not oppose Scheduled Caste reservations; on the contrary, the Hindu right within the Constituent Assembly was vociferously in favor of reservations, believing they would integrate ex-untouchables into the Hindu fold. Similarly, Hindutva has co-opted Kabir Panthis, Namashudras in Bengal, Aadharmis, and other similar groups.

If symbolic struggles remain merely symbolic, they risk benefiting the Hindutva project, as everyone seeks inclusion in a larger enterprise. Hindutva must be understood primarily as a political project. Therefore, a political alternative must be developed. While cultural initiatives can be an important resource in this effort, they cannot be the sole or most significant resource. Cultural activists may differ in their perspectives, but this is my understanding.

Hindutva Project Draws Inspiration from German Fascism

Member of Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh Or RSS workers take a part in a route march on January 12, 2020 in Jodhpur, Rajasthan.

I’d like to shift the conversation to the 1980s and ’90s, during the period leading up to the Babri Masjid demolition and its eventual execution. During that time and beyond, a persistent debate emerged, arguing that Western-style secularism was failing and that we needed to return to our roots. We know that from the 1980s onward, groups like SAHMAT and others initiated a surge of Kabir performances in cities and elsewhere. For a moment, let’s assume the critique is valid—that Western-style secularism didn’t work. But clearly, this alternative approach isn’t working either. So, what comes next?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: I would say that Indian secularism cannot necessarily aim to emulate Western secularism because the realities are different. In the West, particularly in Europe, you have relatively homogeneous societies. Recently, some diversity has been introduced due to the arrival of immigrants, which has disturbed the established consensus within Western societies, leading to a crisis. They are struggling to manage this. The older history of secularism, which fought against the ecclesiastical authority of the church, is now becoming counterproductive because it is not a majoritarian ideology and does not accommodate minority cultural needs. That model may not work in India, and that is entirely correct. However, completely rejecting it and adopting an alternative model, as some suggest—Yogendra Yadav being one proponent, along with my teacher Abhijit Pathak and Ashish Nandy, who have also written on these lines—presents its own set of challenges.

One issue is that the Hindutva project has successfully co-opted communities like the Kabir Panthis, the Namashudras, and others, without requiring them to abandon their cultural ideologies. For instance, these groups may continue to identify as Kabir Panthis or Namashudras while simultaneously aligning themselves with the Hindutva framework. This highlights a misunderstanding of the Hindutva project when viewed through a narrow lens. Many, as the Ambedkarite critique suggests, perceive it as a Savarna or upper-caste Brahminical project. However, this is not necessarily the case. While it may maintain certain caste hierarchies, it also actively incorporates other groups into the broader Hindu fold. 

The Hindutva project is fundamentally focused on creating a majoritarian cultural niche. In this sense, it draws inspiration from German fascism. While it may not always employ equally aggressive strategies, it adapts its approach based on the context. Consequently, secularism, with its accommodative pluralism, faces its own set of challenges in countering this.

First, this kind of pluralism is easily absorbed into the Hindutva project, making it difficult to convince these communities to detach themselves from Hindutva and seek a better alternative. Second, it essentializes culture, reducing everything to the domain of culture while ignoring the critical role politics plays. Kabir Panthis, for instance, have their own political dynamics, and the Namashudras may also have distinct political agendas. Failing to address these political dimensions leaves the field wide open for Hindutva to dominate. 

What evolved in India, however, was a version of secularism that created a flexible “wall of separation” between religion and politics. This model did not strictly adhere to a complete separation; instead, it adapted to the context. At times, the state intervened in religious matters, such as banning untouchability or ensuring temple entry. At other times, it kept itself detached from religion where intervention was not necessary. This approach allowed minorities to feel less threatened by majoritarian religion.

While this model had its limitations, such as insufficient focus on personal empowerment, it emerged organically. By design, it might have aspired to be like the French secular state, but it recognized that this was not feasible in India due to its diversity. Instead, it developed an approach rooted in Indian diversity while committing to the modern philosophy of secularism, the rule of law, and the state as a neutral arbiter.

I believe this model, if its flaws are addressed, remains a far better framework to practice. There is still room to accommodate the religious right within the constitutional space, ensuring that Indian secularism continues to function effectively.

Like on the line of multiculturalism or…

Professor Tanweer Fazal: That is the issue with multiculturalism—it is fine in principle, but when it comes to how the state engages with a multiplicity of cultures, the state cannot be perceived as favoring one over the other. In such cases, it must maintain a certain degree of neutrality where necessary.

There Are Multiple Publics in India

I think one of the final things I’d like to understand from you is this: while we talk about the state and the political project, there is also the public—the citizens, the people. Some scholars, like Kajri Jain, have referred to this in the Indian context as the “politico-devotional public.” She specifically discusses public monuments and the way people view political figures with a sense of devotion. How should we understand the role of the people in this context? It’s one thing to analyze power structures and political frameworks, but at the center of it all are the people themselves. How do we interpret their agency, their perspective, and their role in shaping or responding to these structures?

Professor Tanweer Fazal: I have also discussed the concept of the national public in my book. I argue that minoritization occurs at the crossroads of a triad where the state is at the center, the national public endorses it, and a community is otherized. This happens within a triangular, triadic relationship.

The idea of the public emerges with the system of nation-states, which thrives on cultural homogeneity. In this context, the public is culturally similar, speaks the same language, and often shares the same religion, facilitating active communication among its members. While this public may have class and gender distinctions, there are unifying elements like common history, shared philosophy, and language.

However, this is not the case in India. In India, when we talk about the public, we must actually consider “publics.” There are diverse communities, and because of the linguistic division of provinces and states, political mobilization takes different forms. A truly national public, in my view, is symbolic—it emerges only in specific circumstances.

For example, the national movement was one such situation where a national public emerged, united around the symbolic goal of expelling foreign rulers. Once that goal was achieved, the sense of a unified national public dissipated. Similarly, during communal situations, a specific kind of national public can emerge.

Consider the current context with Sikh nationalism. If a Sikh nationalist declares, “We want Khalistan,” they are immediately labeled seditious and could face trial. In contrast, if someone identifies as a Hindu nationalist and openly advocates for a Hindu state—as a prominent political leader did before becoming Prime Minister—there is no threat of incarceration, arrest, or sedition charges. This disparity reflects how the national public perceives and endorses certain ideologies over others, based on the prevailing dominant narrative.

This may not always have been the case, nor will it necessarily remain so. The national public, being symbolic, is constructed and shaped by the politics of the time. Objectively, there are multiple publics. What we think of as a national public emerges only in specific contexts of symbolic associations, which shift and change over time depending on the nature of the political landscape.

(*) Mukesh Kulriya is a Ph.D. candidate in Ethnomusicology at UCLA, whose research examines the intersection of popular music, communal violence, and forms of public religiosity in India.

Republican presidential nominee, former U.S. President Donald Trump arrives to speak during a campaign rally at Suburban Collection Showplace on October 26, 2024 in Novi, Michigan. Photo: Anna Moneymaker.

Trump 2025: Dystopia and Fascism – The Rise of Authoritarianism in the New Government?

by AuthoritarianismCommentariesEditor’s ChoiceHome

Donald Trump’s first campaign and election were not merely a triumph for populism but a “game-changer,” bringing it to the forefront not just as an ideology but as a method of governance. Trump’s rise reshaped Western democracies, fostering a culture where political norms were no longer stable foundations but tools to be discarded when inconvenient. This commentary seeks to analyze Trump’s prospective second administration and its potential to deepen existing fractures in governance. By examining the cabinet figures, controversies, and projected policies, this analysis will explore their implications for the balance of powers, climate policy, immigration, justice, and international relations.

By João Ferreira Dias

The return of Donald Trump to the White House in 2025 raises profound concerns about the future of democracy in the United States. With a cabinet composed of figures associated with populism, climate denial, extreme nativism, and allegations of serious criminal conduct, the emerging government signals a shift towards authoritarianism.

Authors like Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt (2019) and Yascha Mounk (2018) have noted the far-reaching impact of Trump on contemporary politics. His first campaign and election were not merely a triumph for populism but a “game-changer,” bringing it to the forefront not just as an ideology but as a method of governance. Trump’s rise reshaped Western democracies, fostering a culture where political norms were no longer stable foundations but tools to be discarded when inconvenient.

This commentary seeks to analyze Trump’s prospective second administration and its potential to deepen existing fractures in governance. By examining the cabinet figures, controversies, and projected policies, this analysis will explore their implications for the balance of powers, climate policy, immigration, justice, and international relations.

Populism, Resentment, and the White Working Class

The literature on populism emphasizes the “us vs. them” dichotomy as central to the ideology and practice of populist movements. This narrative is not merely rhetorical but structural, enabling populist leaders to redefine democratic politics around exclusionary lines. As Mondon and Winter (2020) observe, male anxiety—rooted in fears of economic insecurity and immigration—was pivotal in mobilizing support for both Brexit and Trump’s 2016 election. This anxiety, framed as a defense of cultural and economic stability, has become a powerful driver of populist coalitions.

Yascha Mounk (2018) identifies the declining economic security of the white working class as a critical backdrop to this shift. This demographic, comprising rural laborers and displaced urban workers, has been profoundly affected by globalization and industrial outsourcing, which have hollowed out the economic foundations of entire communities. These “losers of globalization,” marginalized by liberal economic policies, have turned to populist leaders who promise to restore not just jobs but dignity and identity. Begum, Mondon, and Winter (2021) argue that this group has become the symbolic “people” populist radical-right movements claim to represent. This realignment echoes historical fascist strategies, where economic grievances were redirected into nationalist and exclusionary frameworks, undermining class solidarity in favor of cultural antagonism.

Trump’s “Make America Great Again” (MAGA) slogan was the masterstroke that consolidated these sentiments, offering a promise of cultural revival that transcended purely economic appeals. Fukuyama (2018) notes that this shift reflects a reconfiguration of the political spectrum, as economic discontent has increasingly been reframed as a cultural battle. The rise of “culture wars” (Hunter, 1991; Hartman, 2019) has enabled populist leaders like Trump to weaponize moral and cultural grievances, portraying the left as a threat to traditional values and national identity. Concepts such as “woke culture” (McWhorter, 2021) and “cultural Marxism” (Jamin, 2014) are invoked to delegitimize progressive movements, presenting them as enemies of the “common man.”

The “cultural backlash” phenomenon, as described by Norris and Inglehart (2019), plays a crucial role here. By amplifying fears of moral alienation and cultural displacement, Trump crafted a coalition that opposed not only the policies of the left but the foundational principles of liberal democracy itself. This backlash was not an aberration but a calculated strategy to consolidate power, mobilizing resentment to erode the very norms that sustain democratic institutions.

The Collapse of Democratic Norms and the Dismantling of Checks and Balances

Levitsky and Ziblatt’s (2019) framework on democratic backsliding highlights how democracies often erode through gradual institutional decay rather than abrupt authoritarian takeovers. Trump’s presidency exemplified this process, as his persistent attacks on the judiciary, the media, and electoral integrity undermined the legitimacy of these institutions.

Trump’s rhetoric, especially his false claims of election fraud, was not merely an expression of personal grievance but a deliberate strategy to delegitimize the rule of law. These narratives culminated in the January 6th Capitol riot, an unprecedented attack on democratic governance in the modern United States. By encouraging insurrectionist behavior, Trump signaled his willingness to destabilize institutions rather than accept their role as checks on executive power.

Policies such as mass deportations further illustrate this erosion of norms, creating an environment of fear and division that undermines trust in governance. At the same time, Trump’s environmental agenda—typified by proposals to expand oil drilling in Alaska—exemplifies his administration’s disdain for scientific expertise. As Mondon and Winter argue, this confluence of environmental degradation and exclusionary nationalism, or “bio-cultural nativism,” reflects a broader authoritarian project that sidelines expertise in favor of ideological loyalty.

Nativism, Class, and the Fragmentation of Liberal Democracy

Mondon and Winter (2020) highlight the centrality of nativism in Trump’s political strategy. For the white working class, nativist rhetoric offers both cultural validation and a channel for economic grievances, reinforcing the “us vs. them” framework. Trump’s appeal lies in his ability to present himself as the protector of “real Americans” against perceived threats from immigrants, elites, and progressive activists.

Mounk (2018) warns that the separation of democracy from liberalism creates fertile ground for authoritarianism. While democracy centers on majority rule, liberalism safeguards minority rights and institutional checks on power. Under Trump, this decoupling fosters a dangerous “tyranny of the majority,” in which populist policies—such as border walls and mass deportations—erode the pluralism that underpins liberal democracy.

This fragmentation of liberal democracy has broader implications, as populist leaders exploit cultural and economic insecurities to dismantle the institutional norms that sustain democratic governance. The result is a political landscape where nativism and exclusionary policies are not fringe elements but central features of mainstream governance.

Trump’s Cabinet: A Microcosm of Authoritarian Drift

Trump’s prospective 2025 cabinet crystallizes his administration’s authoritarian tendencies. Jason Stanley (2018) identifies the vilification of out-groups and the consolidation of power among loyalists as hallmarks of authoritarian regimes. Trump’s cabinet appointments reflect this dynamic, blending ideological extremism with personal loyalty at the expense of institutional norms and expertise.

J.D. Vance emerges as a key figure in this trajectory. As an intellectual voice for the radical right, Vance bridges populist grievance with the cultural warfare central to Trump’s appeal. His rhetoric, centered on the “decline of traditional values,” positions him as an architect of the culture wars that sustain Trump’s coalition. Vance’s influence extends beyond policy, shaping a narrative that frames the MAGA movement as the defender of American identity against the perceived excesses of progressivism.

Elon Musk, another prominent figure in Trump’s circle, wields outsized influence as both a deregulation advocate and a media magnate. Through his dominance of platforms like X (formerly Twitter), Musk amplifies misinformation, weakening public trust in institutions and expertise. His inclusion in the cabinet signals a shift toward governance driven by individual power rather than institutional accountability, further undermining democratic norms.

Robert F. Kennedy Jr., a vocal climate change skeptic, exemplifies the administration’s disregard for scientific consensus. Kennedy’s presence underscores Trump’s strategy of sidelining expertise in favor of ideological alignment, with significant implications for environmental policy and institutional credibility.

Finally, figures like Matt Gaetz, despite their legal controversies, illustrate Trump’s prioritization of loyalty over ethical standards. This normalization of controversial and compromised figures signals a broader erosion of accountability, mirroring the dynamics of historical authoritarian regimes.

Conclusion: The Authoritarian Future of Liberal Democracy

Trump’s cabinet is not just a collection of individuals; it is a reflection of his administration’s authoritarian vision. By prioritizing ideological conformity, cultural grievance, and personal loyalty, Trump’s appointments deepen the erosion of democratic norms and institutional credibility. The profiles of figures like Vance, Musk, and Kennedy illuminate how populism and nativism are reshaping the American political landscape, with long-term consequences for the principles of liberal democracy.

Resisting this drift requires more than institutional safeguards; it demands a societal recommitment to pluralism, expertise, and the rule of law. Without such efforts, the United States risks cementing a political model where authoritarianism thrives under the guise of democratic legitimacy.

 

References

Begum, N., Mondon, A., & Winter, A. (2021). “Between the ‘left behind’ and ‘the people’: Racism, populism and the construction of the ‘white working class’ in the context of Brexit.” In: Routledge handbook of critical studies in whiteness(pp. 220-231). Routledge.

Cammaerts, B. (2022). “The abnormalisation of social justice: The ‘anti-woke culture war’ discourse in the UK.” Discourse & Society, 33(6), 730-743.

Duffy, B., Gottfried, G., May, G., Hewlett, K., & Skinner, G. (2023). Woke vs anti-woke? Culture war divisions and politics. https://doi.org/10.18742/pub01-163.

Hartman, A. (2019). A war for the soul of America: A history of the culture wars. University of Chicago Press.

Hunter, J. D. (1991). Culture wars: The struggle to define America. Basic Books.

Hunter, J. D. (1993). Before the shooting begins: Searching for democracy in America’s culture war. Free Press.

Jamin, J. (2014). Cultural Marxism and the radical right. In The post-war Anglo-American far right: A special relationship of hate (pp. 84-103).

Levitsky, S., & Ziblatt, D. (2019). How democracies die. Crown.

McWhorter, J. (2021). Woke racism: How a new religion has betrayed Black America. Penguin.

Mirrlees, T. (2018). “The Alt-right’s discourse on “Cultural Marxism”: A political instrument of intersectional hate.” Atlantis: Critical Studies in Gender, Culture & Social Justice, 39(1), 49-69.

Mondon, A., & Winter, A. (2020). “Whiteness, populism and the racialisation of the working class in the United Kingdom and the United States.” In: Whiteness and Nationalism (pp. 10-28). Routledge.

Mounk, Y. (2018). The people vs. democracy: Why our freedom is in danger and how to save it. Harvard University Press.

Norris, P., & Inglehart, R. (2019). Cultural backlash: Trump, Brexit, and authoritarian populism. Cambridge University Press.

Paternotte, D., & Verloo, M. (2021). “De-democratization and the politics of knowledge: Unpacking the cultural Marxism narrative.” Social Politics: International Studies in Gender, State & Society, 28(3), 556-578.

Stanley, J. (2018). How fascism works: The politics of us and them. Random House.

Digital

Hybrid Workshop: Authoritarian Information Manipulation and Dissemination — National, Transnational, and International Perspectives

by AuthoritarianismDigital-populismPast Events

Date/Venue: November 7-8, 2024 — Deakin Burwood Corporate Centre (BCC)

DOWNLOAD WORKSHOP BOOKLET

 

Click here to register!

 

The emergence of repressive and authoritarian “hybrid regimes” poses one of the most significant threats to democracy today. These regimes and authoritarian actors wield information suppression and manipulation as essential tools to disseminate narratives that erode democratic institutions. This issue transcends national borders; digital technologies now enable authoritarian states to infiltrate robust democracies, allowing them to project their authoritarian narratives globally. The transnationalization of authoritarian politics, facilitated by digital technologies, presents substantial challenges to the integrity of democratic processes and institutions.

In response to these challenges, our workshop aims to investigate how various actors—governments, non-state organizations, state-sponsored entities, and political parties—suppress and manipulate information to erode trust in democratic processes, both domestically and internationally. The workshop will also examine the darker dimensions of social media, focusing on the interactions between misinformation, negativity, and polarization.

The workshop, a collaborative effort organized by the Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation (ADI) at Deakin University, Australia, and the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) in Brussels, Belgium, will also address strategies to counter misinformation and disinformation, along with intervention techniques to mitigate their impacts. It will focus on countering disinformation through activism and explore everyday online experiences with misinformation, emphasizing the importance of evidence-based media literacy education initiatives. Additionally, the event will discuss necessary curricular reforms to combat disinformation, toxicity, and polarization in educational contexts, as well as the responses of political elites to conspiracy theories.

The organizing team, led by Professor Ihsan Yilmaz, encourages all participants to actively engage in discussions and share insights throughout the workshop. The aim of the workshop, funded by the Australian Political Studies Association (APSA), the Australian Research Council (ARC), and the Gerda Henkel Foundation, is to deepen the understanding of these critical issues and explore collaborative strategies to combat misinformation and disinformation in our increasingly complex digital environment.

For registration:

 

Click here to register!

 

A woman raises the Tunisian flag during an Ennahda Party-led protest against the Tunisian president in Tunis, Tunisia on February 13, 2022. Photo: Mohamed Soufi.

Islamist Parties and Power in Democratic Nation-States: A Comparative Analysis of Six Muslim-Majority Countries 

by ArticlesAuthoritarianismBook ReviewsExtremism & RadicalisationHome

Kenes, Bulent. (2024). “Islamist Parties and Power in Democratic Nation-States: A Comparative Analysis of Six Muslim-Majority Countries.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. October 30, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0020

 

In “Islamist Parties and Power in Democratic Nation-States: A Comparative Analysis of Six Muslim-Majority Countries,” authors Ihsan Yilmaz and Syaza Shukri argue that Islamist parties, at their core, are political entities that prioritize practical governance over strict ideology when necessary, leaving them vulnerable to voter rejection if they fail to address economic and social issues effectively. This adaptability underscores the book’s central argument that policy efficacy often takes precedence over Islamist rhetoric, shaping the evolution of Islamist parties within democratic contexts. While it occasionally includes a wealth of historical details that may seem excessive, the book’s nuanced approach offers a valuable resource for understanding the intersections of Islamism, Islamist populism, authoritarian Islamism, and democracy on a global scale.

Reviewed by Bulent Kenes

In the book titled Islamist Parties and Power in Democratic Nation-States: A Comparative Analysis of Six Muslim-Majority Countries, authors Ihsan Yilmaz and Syaza Shukri explore the multifaceted strategies of Islamist parties operating within democratic and semi-democratic settings across various Muslim-majority countries such as Malaysia, Indonesia, Pakistan, Morocco, Tunisia and Turkey. The book examines how these parties adapt ideologically and pragmatically to maintain influence, highlighting a shift from traditional opposition roles to coalition-building and power-sharing with secular or non-Islamist entities. The authors underscore that while Islamist parties share a religious foundation, their approaches to governance and democracy are diverse, challenging simplistic views that position them solely as anti-democratic. 

Yilmaz and Shukri aim to provide a nuanced understanding of how these parties manage power, respond to crises, and navigate issues like minority rights and foreign policy, particularly in today’s globalized and interconnected political landscape. The introduction of the book  under the title of “Islamist Parties Operating in Democracies,” sets the stage by examining the multifaceted nature of Islamist movements, defining them as entities aiming to incorporate Islamic principles into political and social realms. The authors clarify that while these groups are often perceived as monolithic, they are, in fact, a “diverse array of voices” with varying ideological and strategic priorities shaped by unique regional contexts.

One key strength of the introduction is its contextual framing of Islamist parties not just as ideological entities but as pragmatic actors responsive to “evolving conditions and societal expectations.” Yilmaz and Shukri discuss how these groups, while rooted in shared religious values, exhibit adaptability by forming coalitions and engaging in “power-sharing and coalition-building” with secular or even oppositional parties, particularly when in governance roles. This approach marks a significant departure from previous literature, as the authors aim to present Islamists as dynamic participants in democratic systems rather than static opponents to democratic principles.

Furthermore, the introduction highlights the book’s comparative methodology, which sets it apart from similar works that typically focus on a single region. By juxtaposing cases from countries like Turkey, Indonesia, and Tunisia, the authors aim to draw broader insights into “the complex dynamics” of Islamist governance. Yilmaz and Shukri suggest that understanding these dynamics is crucial for a “nuanced understanding” of Islamist politics that moves beyond reductive assumptions. Thus, the introduction promises a rich comparative analysis, shedding light on the strategic adaptability of Islamist parties and their potential to balance ideological goals with pragmatic governance in diverse political settings. 

Islam and Politics

In Chapter 2 which is titled “Islam and Politics in Democratic Muslim-Majority Countries,” Yilmaz and Shukri present an insightful analysis into the complexities of Islamism and its intersection with democratic politics across diverse Muslim-majority nations. By grounding the discussion in scholarly debate, they explore how Islamist movements navigate between mainstream and extremist strands and examine the adaptive strategies employed by these parties in response to their unique political environments.

The chapter explores a critical dichotomy within Islamism, distinguishing between mainstream Islamists who participate in elections and seek gradual reform through democratic means and more extremist groups that often reject democratic processes. This distinction underlines the authors’ main argument about the adaptability of Islamist parties, emphasizing that while many engage in democratic processes, others lean toward authoritarian tendencies. This adaptation, as the authors argue, is driven by both political and socio-economic pressures, shaping Islamist strategies across different contexts.

Moreover, Yilmaz and Shukri delve into the ideological tensions within Islamist politics, such as the potential for majoritarianism and religious hegemony. They caution that unchecked Islamism could risk eroding minority rights and compromising democratic principles, especially in polarized societies. The authors support this claim by discussing the experience of Turkey under the Justice and Development Party (AKP), where populist tendencies and majoritarianism have raised concerns about the preservation of democratic institutions.

Finally, the chapter addresses the broader implications of Islamist governance and the complex role of political Islam. By examining case studies in countries like Tunisia, Indonesia, and Morocco, the authors provide a robust framework for understanding how Islamist parties balance religious principles with governance. This nuanced examination makes Chapter 2 a foundational overview for readers, highlighting both the potential and challenges of Islamism within democratic contexts.

PAS and Malaysia

In Chapter 3, Yilmaz and Shukri provide a comprehensive examination of Malaysia’s Parti Islam Se-Malaysia (PAS) under the title of “Seven Decades of PAS in Malaysian Politics,”  tracing its strategic evolution across the nation’s politically complex landscape. The authors explore PAS’ adaptability and pragmatism within Malaysia’s semi-democratic environment, highlighting how PAS has shifted from conservatism to moderate pluralism and, recently, to ethno-religious populism.

The chapter outlines PAS’ historical journey, from its foundation in 1951 as an offshoot of UMNO, focused on Malay-Muslim identity, to its modern status as a dominant Islamist party. PAS’ relationship with UMNO, marked by both rivalry and cooperation, underscores the party’s flexibility. The authors note that PAS has shifted between opposing UMNO’s secular nationalism and forming alliances under banners of “Muslim unity,” depending on political needs. Yilmaz and Shukri point to PAS’ success in adapting its ideology to suit changing political climates, illustrating its willingness to collaborate across the political spectrum for electoral gains.

According to the book, PAS’ governance of Kelantan since 1990 serves as a case study in implementing an Islamist agenda within a multicultural society. Despite advocating for “shariazation” policies, PAS has shown restraint at the federal level, balancing Islamic values with the realities of Malaysia’s diverse demographics. This pragmatic approach, the authors argue, has allowed PAS to maintain its influence, especially during its brief time in federal power from 2020-2022.

Further, the authors discuss PAS’ strategic response to global and national crises, including the COVID-19 pandemic, which bolstered its populist appeal through welfare measures. Yilmaz and Shukri conclude that PAS’ electoral flexibility and populist tactics have solidified its position among conservative Malay-Muslims, marking it as a key player in Malaysia’s evolving political landscape. The chapter demonstrates how PAS’ resilience and adaptability, despite operating within Malaysia’s semi-authoritarian framework, have contributed to its growing strength in Malaysian politics.

PKS and Indonesia

Chapter 4 of the book offers a nuanced analysis of Islamism within Indonesia’s multiparty political system under the title of “PKS in Indonesia’s Multiparty System,” by spotlighting the evolution of the Partai Keadilan Sejahtera (PKS) and its role as a major Islamist party. The chapter contextualizes PKS within Indonesia’s post-1998 democratization efforts, focusing on how the nation’s rich cultural diversity and democratic constitution impact the moderation of Islamist agendas. Yilmaz and Shukri highlight PKS’s pragmatic approach, noting its blend of Islamic values with democratic ideals as it navigates Indonesia’s secular and religious pluralism.

The authors emphasize that PKS has achieved influence without strictly seeking to impose sharia law, contrasting with more radical movements like Hizbut Tahrir Indonesia (HTI). PKS’s stance on social justice, anti-corruption, and minority rights demonstrates a commitment to Indonesia’s Pancasila foundation, balancing Islamic identity with pluralist values. This adaptability has allowed PKS to participate in coalition governments while maintaining a distinct Islamist identity.

The chapter also explores PKS’s responses to regional and global Islamist trends, highlighting that PKS favors a moderate stance on Islamic solidarity, promoting peaceful international relations and opposing extremist ideologies. However, as the authors note, PKS faces rising pressures from conservative Islamic populism, which challenges Indonesia’s secular state model. They point to the complex balancing act of PKS as it negotiates between religious values and national priorities amid Indonesia’s diverse electorate.

Chapter 4 presents PKS as an example of Islamist pragmatism within a democratic framework, stressing its role in maintaining Indonesia’s status as a moderate Muslim-majority nation. The analysis showcases PKS’s strategic positioning within Indonesia’s political landscape, where moderation often proves more sustainable than radicalism.

Jamaat-e-Islami (JI) and Pakistan

In Chapter 5 of the book, authors Yilmaz and Shukri provide an in-depth exploration of Jamaat-e-Islami (JI), one of Pakistan’s most influential Islamist parties. This chapter, which is titled “A Faithful Force: Jamaat-E-Islami and Islamist Politics in Pakistan,” examines JI’s evolution from a supporter of military regimes to a unique voice advocating social development within an Islamic framework. Describing JI as a “faithful force,” the authors highlight the party’s struggle to reconcile its foundational principles with the realities of ‘Pakistani democracy,’ illustrating both its successes and limitations in influencing national politics.

Initially, JI supported Pakistan’s military leadership, particularly during General Zia-ul-Haq’s regime, which advanced the Islamization process in Pakistan. The authors emphasize how JI’s alliance with Zia enabled it to push for Islamic laws, giving JI a rare moment of influence. However, as the chapter reveals, JI’s strict Islamist stance limited its broader appeal, especially as it encountered Pakistan’s diverse political landscape and increasing calls for pluralism.

Yilmaz and Shukri delve into JI’s organizational structure, describing it as both a strength and a “double-edged sword.” JI’s internal hierarchy, according to the authors, deeply rooted in discipline and loyalty, provides a solid foundation, yet its rigid framework hinders adaptability. Despite its “commitment to democratic principles” and holding intra-party elections, JI has struggled to expand its influence beyond its core supporters, often failing to capture significant electoral success on a national level.

The authors explore JI’s stance on the controversial blasphemy law and its impact on Pakistan’s democracy, particularly in relation to minority rights. JI’s call for the law’s strict enforcement has complicated its image, as it aligns the party with hardline interpretations of Islam that conflict with Pakistan’s aspirations for a more inclusive society. While JI advocates for “social justice, anti-corruption, and anti-imperialism,” its approach has been criticized for not sufficiently addressing the needs of Pakistan’s minority communities, a factor that limits its broader political appeal.

In discussing JI’s ideological adaptability, the authors argue that JI has recently shifted towards a “second-generation Islamism,” with an emphasis on social development and community welfare. The chapter notes JI’s active involvement in charitable work through its Al-Khidmat Foundation, an outreach strategy that has helped it maintain influence despite its limited political successes. This evolution highlights JI’s pragmatic side, as it aligns its goals with broader social issues while retaining an Islamic identity.

Yilmaz and Shukri conclude that JI’s trajectory exemplifies Pakistan’s complex relationship with Islam and democracy, where Islamist parties face the challenge of preserving religious identity while adapting to democratic norms. They suggest that while JI has struggled to secure a dominant political position, it remains a potent force due to its strong organizational base and grassroots support. Ultimately, Chapter 5 sheds light on the “delicate balance” between faith-based politics and the realities of Pakistan’s evolving democratic landscape.

PJD and Morocco

In Chapter 6, titled “Islamist PJD and the Monarchy in Morocco,” the authors delve into the dynamics between Morocco’s monarchy and the Justice and Development Party (PJD), focusing on Morocco’s unique Makhzen system. This system, led by the king as emir al-mu’minin or “commander of the faithful,” establishes him as both a secular and religious authority, allowing the monarchy to manage Islam as an integral part of Morocco’s national identity. The chapter emphasizes how this framework has been crucial in tempering “the potency of political Islamism” and limiting the PJD’s influence, even as it formed a government following its 2011 electoral success.

The chapter examines the PJD’s decade in power, a tenure punctuated by moments of compromise and concession. Initially, the party enjoyed significant popular support, riding the wave of Arab Spring reforms that included expanded parliamentary power. However, as the chapter illustrates, the PJD quickly encountered the limits of its influence. The authors highlight how the monarchy’s interventions in key government functions, especially in “sensitive roles and veto powers,” underscored the persistence of monarchical authority, often stifling the PJD’s ability to implement its agenda fully.

The COVID-19 pandemic further strained the PJD’s position, contributing to its electoral decline in 2021 and symbolizing the end of its era of Islamist governance in Morocco. This chapter argues that the monarchy’s symbolic Islamic leadership, combined with its political authority, successfully framed itself as the true custodian of Moroccan identity, relegating the PJD to “a second-generation Islamist party forced to work within the system.” This analysis reveals that the PJD’s journey reflects the complex interplay of religious and political authority in Morocco, where Islam is strategically woven into the fabric of governance, ultimately ensuring that power remains centered in the monarchy.

Ennahda and Tunisia

Chapter 7, titled “Ennahda as Tunisia’s Muslim Democratic Party,” delves into the rise, evolution, and challenges faced by Tunisia’s Ennahda party, highlighting its remarkable adaptability within the country’s political landscape. Initially, Ennahda emerged from Tunisia’s conservative Muslim roots, but, in the wake of the Arab Spring, it evolved into what the authors describe as Tunisia’s “Muslim Democratic Party.” This transformation underscores Ennahda’s pragmatism and its attempt to blend religious principles with democratic ideals. After winning Tunisia’s first democratic elections in 2011, Ennahda adapted its stance to suit a diverse political landscape, opting for “a practical kind of national reconciliation”with secular parties, which became crucial for political stability.

The authors highlight Ennahda’s ideological moderation, particularly when it decided not to impose Sharia as the foundation of the 2014 constitution. This choice, according to Yilmaz and Shukri, reflected Ennahda’s understanding of “the importance of Maqasid al-Sharia over specific rules,” showcasing the party’s evolving position on Islamic law to resonate with a broader national identity. The shift was further reinforced during the 2016 Tenth General Congress, where Ennahda officially prioritized politics over religious preaching, effectively becoming “a conservative political force capable of handling governance.”

The chapter also sheds light on the recent strain in Tunisian democracy, exacerbated by the COVID-19 crisis, which impacted Ennahda’s reputation and led to widespread disapproval. Ennahda’s subsequent absence from the 2023 elections reflects a shift in its strategy, possibly spurred by President Kais Saied’s consolidation of power. In sum, Chapter 7 paints a nuanced picture of Ennahda’s transformation and challenges, illustrating its continued struggle between ideological values and the demands of a pragmatic political approach in Tunisia’s ever-shifting political terrain.

AKP and Turkey

Titled “Islamist Populist AKP and Turkey’s Shift Towards Authoritarianism,” Chapter 8 of the book presents an in-depth analysis of Turkey’s Islamist Justice and Development Party (AKP) under President Recep Tayyip Erdogan, exploring its journey from “Muslim democrat” roots to an authoritarian populist regime. Initially, the AKP championed democratization, economic reform, and EU membership; however, its trajectory shifted post-2011, notably after the “Gezi protests of 2013” and the controversial 2016 coup attempt. These events, according to the authors, paved the way for a clampdown on dissent, particularly targeting journalists, activists, and opposition politicians, marking a stark turn towards authoritarianism.

Erdogan’s leadership has progressively consolidated power, transforming Turkey’s democratic infrastructure into what the authors describe as a “competitive authoritarian regime.” With the 2017 constitutional referendum, the office of the prime minister was abolished, granting the president sweeping executive powers, leading one observer to note that “Erdogan [became] the virtually unassailable ruler of Turkey.” By diminishing checks on presidential authority, Erdogan’s AKP harnessed Islam and nationalism to foster a narrative that secures his base while casting opposition voices as foreign-controlled threats to national unity.

In this chapter, Yilmaz and Shukri also examine the Turkish Directorate of Religious Affairs (Diyanet), highlighting its instrumental role in promoting the AKP’s vision of Islam as a component of Turkish identity. This vision extends internationally, where Turkey navigates a complex geopolitical landscape. According to the authors, through selective alliances, including with Russia and China, the AKP leverages religious and nationalist rhetoric to mitigate Western criticism, particularly regarding human rights issues. Yet, its economic policies, based on unorthodox monetary approaches, have led to high inflation and decreased living standards. The authors note that Erdogan’s insistence on low-interest rates, justified by Islamic teachings against usury, has led to what the text calls an “accelerated currency devaluation” that further strains Turkey’s economy.

In sum, Chapter 8 paints the AKP as a party that, while initially promising democratic reform, has instead pursued populist authoritarianism. This has strained Turkey’s democratic structures and polarized its society, positioning Erdogan as a powerful, divisive figure whose policies reflect both the aspirations and challenges of modern Turkish Islamism.

Trajectory of Islamist Parties

In Chapter 9, the authors overview “Trajectory of Islamist Parties” and synthesize the book’s key findings, examining how various Islamist parties navigate the balance between Islamism and democracy. The chapter delves into how Islamist parties, when allowed political participation, engage in governance yet often struggle with the tension between God’s sovereignty and popular sovereignty. This complex relationship has led to a diversity of outcomes, ranging from authoritarian shifts in Turkey under the AKP to democratic engagement in Malaysia, Morocco, and Tunisia.

The authors highlight the significance of “strategic interaction theory,” which suggests that an Islamist party’s moderation is contingent upon its relationships with secular forces and the military. “Credibility of signals sent by the Islamist party” is crucial in establishing trust with non-Islamist actors, although, as in the AKP’s case, prolonged power can erode democratic practices. The chapter notes that the AKP’s “immoderation was the result of dismantling institutional checks and balances” due to political crises like the Gezi protests and the 2016 coup attempt.

Through comparative analysis, the authors argue that some Islamist parties adapt to electoral losses, as seen in Tunisia and Morocco, where they have “accepted defeat albeit with some resistance.” However, once in power, these parties tend to favor pragmatism over strict adherence to religious principles to sustain governance. This adaptability is essential, particularly in Muslim-majority secular states like Indonesia, where the “balance between Islamic identity and democratic diversity” is necessary for political survival.

The authors suggest in brief that Islamist parties are, at their core, political entities that prioritize practical governance over ideology when necessary, making them susceptible to voter rejection if they fail to deliver on economic and social issues. This adaptability underscores the book’s central argument that policy efficacy outweighs Islamist rhetoric, shaping the evolution of Islamist parties within democratic frameworks. While it occasionally includes abundance of historical details that may seem excessive, the book’s nuanced approach provides an insightful resource for understanding the intersections of Islamism, Islamist populism, authoritarian Islamism and democracy on a global scale.

 

Ihsan Yilmaz & Syaza Shukri. (2024). Islamist Parties and Power in Democratic Nation-States: A Comparative Analysis of Six Muslim-Majority Countries. Palgrave Macmillan. 313 pp. Hardcover: EUR 139.09. ISBN-10: 9819743427, ISBN-13: ‎978-9819743421.

Prabowo Subianto sings during a grand campaign at GBK Stadium in Jakarta on March 23, 2014. After four attempts, Prabowo was finally elected President of Indonesia in 2024. Photo: MRNPic.

From Political Pariah to President: Prabowo Subianto and the Perils of Populism in Indonesia

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Please cite as:
Watmough, Simon P. (2021). “From Political Pariah to President: Prabowo Subianto and the Perils of Populism in Indonesia.” ECPS Leader Profiles. European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). October 24, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/lp0011

 

Prabowo Subianto’s victory in Indonesia’s February 2024 presidential election marks a pivotal moment in the nation’s democratic evolution, echoing a global shift towards nationalist populism. As Indonesia’s eighth president, Prabowo’s political journey and ideological stance have sparked concerns about the future of the country’s democratic institutions. His controversial military past, including allegations of human rights abuses in East Timor and Aceh during the 1990s, continues to raise alarms about the potential for authoritarianism under his leadership. Critics fear his presidency may signal a return to repressive practices, with threats to civil liberties and increased polarization. Prabowo’s background as a former military general adds to concerns about a consolidation of power and the erosion of democratic checks and balances in one of the world’s largest democracies.

By Simon P. Watmough

Introduction

Prabowo Subianto’s[1] stunning victory in Indonesia’s presidential elections in February marks a significant moment in the country’s democratic journey, reflecting a global trend towards authoritarian nationalist populism. As he assumes the presidency of the world’s third-largest democracy, Prabowo’s political career and ideological stance have ignited conversations about the potential implications for Indonesia’s democratic institutions and pluralistic society, prompting observers at home and abroad to scrutinize the trajectory Indonesia might take under his administration. This profile joins that conversation, asking: Who is Prabowo Subianto, Indonesia’s eighth president?

If the “peculiarity of populist discourse is to frame politics as an antagonistic confrontation between the people and the oligarchy” (de la Torre, 2007: 389), then Prabowo hits the mark. Known for his assertive rhetoric and strongman persona, Prabowo – a retired lieutenant general in the Indonesian Armed Forces (Tentara Nasional Indonesia, TNI) – has successfully tapped into a vein of nationalist sentiment in Indonesia, promising robust leadership in the face of mounting economic and security challenges.

It is scarcely surprising that Prabowo embodies all the qualities of a “warrior populist” in the vein of Venezuela’s Hugo Chavez, as he has publicly declared his admiration for the late Venezuelan general-turned-dictator (Aspinall, 2015: 2). Equally, as the brother of one of Indonesia’s richest men (and a multimillionaire in his own right), we can see him as the paradigmatic “pluto-populist” in the vein of Donald Trump, the late Silvio Berlusconi and of course, Thailand’s Thaksin Shinawatra, whom Prabowo openly admires (ibid.).

The country itself is no stranger to populism, which has “deep roots in Indonesia” (Aspinall, 2015: 3). “Diffuse” forms of populist mobilization have played an outsized role in the country’s mass politics since the beginning, even during the “Guided Democracy” of the founding president, Sukarno, and the authoritarian “New Order” period under Suharto (ibid.). Some have even located the roots of Indonesian populism in the country’s birth as an independent nation (van Klinken, 2020). However, Indonesia’s current “populist moment” reflects conditions that have emerged in the 21st century, not least the attenuation of party functioning in the campaigns of political actors and the rise of “media-based populism,” which is “now the default mode of electioneering” (Gammon, 2023: 442). The allure of authoritarian nationalist populism, with its promise of decisive action and appeal to traditional values, poses questions about the future of Indonesia’s open and inclusive political climate. Critics argue that this could lead to a regression in human rights, freedom of the press and minority protections, elements that are foundational to Indonesia’s democratic framework.

This profile offers a comprehensive overview of the factors that have shaped Prabowo’s outlook and approach, including his early life, his military career (including his close links with the Suharto regime and his role in the transition to democracy in 1998) as well as his subsequent business and political ventures, all of which have led him to the seat of ultimate power. Charting his move from political pariah to perennial contender and now president, it sketches the key influences that have shaped his authoritarian populist outlook and the controversies that continue to devil him and give his critics pause for concern. Ultimately, it suggests he is likely to work to centralize power in the hands of the presidency, undermine Indonesia’s independent institutions, take the country backwards and possibly threaten to ignite conflicts far and wide.

A Cosmopolitan “Third Culture Kid” Forged in Exile

Indonesian presidential candidate Prabowo Subianto greets the public during a 2024 general election campaign in Bengkulu City, Indonesia, on January 11, 2024. Photo: Shutterstock.

Prabowo Subianto Djojohadikusumo was born on 17 October 1951, in Jakarta, Indonesia, into an aristocratic Javanese family “line that goes back centuries” (Connelly & Laksmana, 2018). His grandfather, Margono Djojohadikusumo (1894–1978), a prominent economist and founder of Bank Negara Indonesia (also serving as its first president), was a leading figure in Indonesia’s independence movement, while his father, Sumitro Djojohadikusumo (1917–2001), held key positions as Indonesia’s minister of trade and industry. Growing up amidst this political and economic elite exposed Prabowo to the inner workings of government and economics from a very young age (Purdey, 2016).

In the late 1950s, at just seven years of age, Prabowo was forced into exile with his family, his father and grandfather having been central players in an internal rebellion against Sukarno. Exile took the family first to Singapore, Malaysia and Thailand, then Switzerland and later to the United Kingdom, where Prabowo studied, graduating from the prestigious American School in London (ASL) in 1968 (Tanu, 2004). This international journey at a young age had a profound impact on Prabowo, exposing him to a wide range of cultures and shaping him into a “third culture kid” (Pollock & Reken, 2009), one who learned precisely how to navigate elite cosmopolitan circles (Tanu, 2004).

After the fall of Sukarno and the rise of the New Order regime in 1966 (headed by Suharto), the family were no longer political exiles. As Aspinall (2015: 3) notes, Prabowo returned to Indonesia “more comfortable speaking English than Indonesian, yet with powerful ambitions” to make something of himself in the country of his birth. Indeed, from a young age, Prabowo displayed a natural aptitude for strategy and a strong aspiration to the grand exercise of political power – a particular fascination in his youth was the Turkish general-turned-founding father Kemal Mustafa Ataturk (Friend, 2003: 323). Recognizing his teenage son’s leadership potential, Sumitro encouraged Prabowo to attend the military academy and pursue a career in the armed forces.

Military Career and Accusations of Human Rights Abuses

Understanding Prabowo’s military career is central to understanding both his outlook and style and the controversies that have dogged him in politics since 2004. His military journey began in 1970 when he enrolled in the Indonesian Military Academy in Magelang. He graduated in 1974, alongside fellow cadets who would go on to hold senior leadership positions, including Indonesia’s sixth president, Susilo Bambang Yudhoyono (widely known as SBY).

After graduation, Prabowo served in elite regiments of the TNI, first in the Indonesian Special Forces (known as Kopassus), which he joined in 1976 and where he gained experience in counterinsurgency operations (Aspinall, 2015: 6). Indeed, during his several tours of East Timor after the Indonesian invasion in December 1975, he was responsible for many human rights violations. At just 26 years old, Prabowo became the youngest commander of a key commando unit operating in East Timor and was implicated in the execution of East Timor’s first prime minister and freedom fighter, Nicolau dos Reis Lobato, in December 1978 (van Klinken, 2014).

Prabowo’s career took off after his marriage to Siti Hediati Hariyadi (“Titiek”) – the daughter of Indonesia’s strongman President Suharto – in 1983. His marriage to Titiek further elevated his status within the ruling political elite and gave him access to important networks and resources, allowing him to rise through the ranks of the Indonesian military more swiftly than many of his peers.

In the early 1990s, Prabowo, now a Major General, led Kopassus Group 3 in its attempts to suppress the East Timorese independence movement. His methods included using irregular troops, known as “ninja” gangs, and militias directed by Kopassus commanders, leading to a rise in human rights abuses. He has also been implicated in killings in Indonesia’s restive province of West Papua, particularly targeting the region’s independence activists (Nairn, 2024). During the dying days of his father-in-law’s regime, “Prabowo emerged as the leader of a palace guard of generals most willing to use coercion to defend the regime” (Aspinall, 2015: 6). In March 1998, Prabowo was appointed as the head of the 27,000-strong Army Strategic Reserve Command (Kostrad) – a position Suharto himself once held, which he used to topple Sukarno and propel himself to power in 1965.

Just three months into this role, during the May 1998 riots, Prabowo sought to deploy Kostrad units to restore order in Jakarta. This move was met with controversy as it involved hundreds of individuals trained by Kopassus, Prabowo’s former command. Accusations of importing trouble and seeking to discredit rivals were raised, with some arguing that Prabowo was putting pieces in place for a military coup in which he would assume command of Indonesia. These events escalated tensions and played a role in the resignation of President Suharto on May 21, 1998 (Aspinall, 2005: 212).

In the aftermath of the 1998 riots, investigations revealed allegations of human rights abuses and kidnappings involving Prabowo’s troops, including the torture of democracy activists. He acknowledged responsibility for the abductions (although he continues to deny any role in the activists’ deaths), leading to his discharge from military service in August 1998 (Nairn, 2024).

Second Exile and Business Empire

As soon as he was expelled from the military, Prabowo again went into exile (this time self-imposed), residing in Jordan (Prabowo is reportedly close to King Abdullah). During this time, he downplayed involvement in the 1998 riots and maintained that he was not responsible for betraying his country or its leaders (Tesoro, 2000). On his return to Indonesia in 2004, he immediately began to plot a path to the presidency (Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 352).

At the same time, Prabowo ventured into the business world, collaborating with his younger brother, Hashim Djojohadikusumo. His business interests reflect a pattern endemic to Indonesia’s “oligarchic” political economy (Winters, 2013). Today, Prabowo’s Nusantara Group oversees an extensive portfolio of 27 companies operating both within Indonesia and internationally. These companies cover a diverse range of sectors, including Nusantara Energy (focusing on oil, natural gas, and coal), Tidar Kerinci Agung (engaged in palm oil plantations), and Jaladri Nusantara (operating in the fishery industry) (Purdey, 2016).

From Political Pariah to Perennial Presidential Candidate

Even as a solider, Prabowo Subianto had established a reputation as a political player, leveraging his connections with President Suharto in the 1990s to engage in efforts to suppress critics in the journalistic and political spheres. In the dying days of the New Order, Prabowo attempted to sway Goenawan Mohamad to sell his controversial Tempo magazine (a leading mouthpiece of popular dissent) and warned various influential figures, including Abdurrahman Wahid (popularly known as Gus Dur, who served as Indonesia’s fourth president from 1999 to 2001) and Nurcholish Madjid, against taking a public stand against the regime (Friend, 2003: 203).

By 2004, Prabowo’s political aspirations led him to vie for the Golkar party’s presidential candidacy, but he received minimal support. He speaks of this campaign as a “trial run” that gave him the experience he needed to move forward. In this period, he also began to create grassroots networks, especially among farmers, small traders, and a wide range of other organizations, including “veterans’ associations, labor unions and organizations of village heads, which could provide him with access to a mass base” (Aspinall, 2015: 9) on which to ground a populist political movement.

In 2008, Prabowo’s inner circle established the Great Indonesia Movement Party (Gerindra), supporting his presidential run in 2009. Hashim Djojohadikusumo serves as party chairman. Despite not winning enough parliamentary seats, Prabowo ran as a vice-presidential candidate alongside Megawati Sukarnoputri, daughter of Sukarno. The pair, known as Mega–Pro, lost to SBY, who succeeded Megawati as Indonesia’s sixth president on 20 October 2004. Unbowed by this failure, Prabowo doubled down on building up Gerindra, his business interests, and his populist networks (Mao, 2024).

The 2014 Presidential Election: The “Battle of the Populists”

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.

By 2014, Indonesian politics had reached a critical juncture, one that was ripe for populist mobilization. While SBY’s ten years in office had seen the country bed down several important reforms, recover fully from the 1997 Asian financial crisis, and resolve some longstanding regional conflicts, they were largely seen as a lost opportunity, mainly due to the vacillating leadership of President Yudhoyono himself (Aspinall et all., 2015: 1–2). The period of political indecision and policy stagnation that characterized the last years of his presidency set the stage for the rise of a “populist challenger” in Indonesian politics, something “political scientists had been predicting for years” (Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 351; see also Anugrah, 2020: 5). Indeed, as Aspinall has rightly noted, “The rise of an authoritarian populist challenger like Prabowo was almost overdetermined in contemporary Indonesia” (Aspinall, 2015: 3)

Scholars widely agree that 2014 was a “watershed” and a “turning point” in Indonesian democracy in the post-Suharto era (see, for example, Anugrah, 2020: 6; Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 347). It was the year that saw Indonesia join “the new wave of illiberal populist mobilization in both established and newer democracies” (Anugrah, 2020: 11). The result was an epic “battle of the populists” – Joko Widodo (“Jokowi”), the incumbent governor of Jakarta, and Prabowo – in the presidential elections in July. While both were clearly populist, each had a distinctive populist style that contrasted with the other. For his part, Jokowi showcased a provincial “everyman” populist style (he promised to meet Yudhoyono’s do-nothing elitism with workaday governance on a platform of good governance and populist policies like cheap healthcare and education). As Aspinall & Mietzner (2014: 351) have noted: “In Jokowi, Indonesians found someone who possessed a popular touch that was the antithesis of Yudhoyono’s wooden formality.” In stark contrast stood Prabowo, who instead offered “‘firm leadership’ as the antidote to Yudhoyono’s hesitant style of leadership” (Ibid.). Despite his impeccable establishment credentials, Prabowo cast himself in classical populist terms as an “outsider” ready to take on the Indonesian elite.

Prabowo ran a lavish campaign funded mostly by his brother, Hashim, a wildly successful businessman and one of Indonesia’s dollar billionaires. Notwithstanding his claims of wanting to fight a corrupt oligarchy, Prabowo’s campaign was “organized using a pattern of cash-driven informal networking” (Aspinall, 2015: 3) that drew in many constituencies. Despite a campaign levelled at “corrupt elites,” Prabowo managed to perfect the game of “patronage democracy” that Indonesia has become known for (Van Klinken, 2009).

Consistent with a turn to “media-based populism” in Indonesia (Gammon, 2023: 442), Prabowo campaigned “with relentless media advertising and set piece mass rallies all stressing a simple message: Prabowo was the man Indonesia needed to lead it towards a desperately needed national renaissance” (Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 357). Prabowo’s appeal was enhanced by a “widespread – though diffuse – mood of nostalgia for the certainties of the New Order” regime of his father-in-law Suharto, Indonesia’s longest-serving president (Aspinall, 2015: 3).

His campaign adopted classic populist discursive frames, and he cast himself as Indonesia’s “savior” with promises to rescue the country from a rapacious elite in cahoots with foreigners seeking to exploit Indonesia’s vast natural resources (Hellmann, 2019: 13). His style was avowedly nationalist and sought to both burnish his credentials as a “strong leader” and draw on the symbolism of the populist Sukarno era: “His campaign appearances had a highly theatrical character, with lots of uniforms, marching, and fiery oratory, and with much of the styling obviously based on that of Sukarno and other nationalist leaders from the 1940s, 1950s, and 1960s” (Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 352).

Moreover, despite his claims to be the answer to the corruption and money politics of the Indonesian campaign system, Prabowo himself marshalled a wide range of constituencies through vote buying. In this way, he was able to galvanize Islamic groups, small businessmen and other mass constituencies. As Aspinall & Mietzner (2014: 359) note, “like his Thai role model Thaksin Shinawatra,” Prabowo “appealed mainly to the rural poor for support” (although in the end, he garnered as much or more urban support). Despite his mass appeal and backing from the outgoing SBY (the president reportedly held Prabowo “unfit to be president” but bowed to pressure and opinion polling to swing his weight behind the former general at the last minute), Jokowi won with 53% of the vote, after a late scramble to get out his base of his voters to the polls.

In the aftermath of the elections, both candidates declared victory. Jokowi’s claim was backed by most independent quick counts, showing a slight lead over Prabowo. The latter, however, citing different polls, also claimed victory, a strategy he would repeat in 2019. However, he withdrew from the race on the day the official tally was to be announced, citing “massive cheating” and declaring the election unconstitutional, a move that sparked legal and political controversies, culminating in an appeal to the Constitutional Court alleging significant voting irregularities, which the court unanimously rejected.

The 2019 Rematch: Islamic Populism and a Promise to “Make Indonesia Great Again”

Indonesian presidential candidate Prabowo Subianto at a campaign event in Jakarta, Indonesia, on April 4, 2014. Photo: Simon Roughneen.

The 2019 campaign set up a “rematch” between the two populists and was even more divisive than their 2014 contest (Arifianto, 2019: 46). As had been the case in 2014, Prabowo’s participation in the 2019 campaign was contentious. He initially claimed victory despite independent counts favoring Jokowi (he was eventually declared the winner with 55.5% of the vote), who later faced violent protests from his supporters challenging the results, which were ultimately upheld by the Constitutional Court (Jakarta Globe, 2019). During the campaign, Prabowo was accused of emulating the tactics used by Donald Trump in his 2016 bid for the US presidency, particularly in emphasizing economic inequalities and foreigners ripping the country off. In a speech given in October 2018, Prabowo echoed Trump’s infamous slogan by declaring his desire to “Make Indonesia Great Again.”

In a pattern that has recurred across his presidential campaigns, Prabowo reinvented himself going into the election campaign, in this case as a pious Muslim, appearing at religious festivals and Islamist rallies and actively courting Muslims: “Unlike in the 2014 election, when the Islamists were just a small contingent of Prabowo’s mainly ultranationalist coalition, the Islamists had now become an integral part of his campaign team” (Arifianto, 2019: 47). He made much of his connections with hardline Muslim groups, notably exemplified by his relationship with Muhammad Rizieq Shihab of the Islamic Defenders Front. Rizieq, in self-imposed exile in Mecca at the time, was a vocal critic of Jokowi and supporter of Prabowo. The former general pledged to facilitate Rizieq’s return to Indonesia if he won the election. Prabowo’s courting of the populist Islamic vote shifted the entire tenor of the campaign, forcing Jokowi to select the “conservative cleric Ma’ruf Amin” (Arifianto, 2019: 46) as his running mate.

Amidst a rancorous campaign, voter turnout in the 2019 elections reached record highs, fueled largely by the populist mobilization of Islam by the two leading contenders: “Religious-based polarization conducted by both sides during their campaigns helped boost total voter turnout to 154 million—approximately 80% of the electorate” (Arifianto, 2019: 49). This was up from the 69% who turned out to vote in the 2014 presidential poll (Anugrah, 2020: 9).

Rapprochement, Political Reinvention, and “Digital Populism” in the 2024 Presidential Campaign

Despite the bitterly fought campaign and Prabowo’s alleged role in violent post-election riots in Jakarta that killed six people (Soeriaatmadja & Chan, 2019), the ex-general opportunistically sought a rapprochement and approached Megawati and Jokowi to see if Gerindra could be included in the governing coalition (Indonesia’s party system is highly cartelized and parties often bandwagon in exchange for spoils; see Slater, 2018). In turn, and notwithstanding the rancor that had characterized their relations for half a decade, Jokowi appointed Prabowo his defense minister in October 2019 “as a gesture of national unity” (Anugrah, 2020: 1). Moreover, “[d]espite earlier tensions, Prabowo and Jokowi found common ground in a nationalist vision that emphasized sovereignty, defense, food security and energy security” (Utama, 2023).

His appointment as defense minister resurfaced criticisms of his past human rights abuses and comments praising charismatic populists who later became dictators, such as Hugo Chavez. Dogged by these criticisms, Prabowo sought to shed his image as a firebrand strongman (see below) in the run-up to the 2024 campaign, which culminated in a landslide win on February 14 (Prabowo took over 58% of the vote with another record turnout of 82%; Strangio, 2024).

Prabowo’s 2024 triumph after successive failed attempts rested on three central (and interrelated) dimensions, all of which contributed to his landslide win. The first was the backing of President Jokowi and the full force of the Indonesian state, which deployed a mix of “retail corruption” and “wholesale coercion” on a scale not seen in Indonesia since the 1970s (Nairn, 2024). This approach was coupled with a populist policy of offering one free meal to every child of school age in order to address malnutrition and stunting. A laudable policy on the face of it, it remains to be seen whether the US$30 billion price tag can be met from Indonesia’s strained central budget (Lindsey, 2024). Jokowi, who was term-limited, saw in Prabowo a chance to “carry forward his plans for a political dynasty and, with it, continued influence” (Utama, 2023). In late 2023, Prabowo skillfully wooed the president, offering the second spot on his ticket to Jokowi’s eldest son, Gibran Rakabuming Raka, whose constitutional ineligibility for the office was overruled by Indonesia’s Supreme Court, headed by none other than Gibran’s maternal uncle, Anwar Usman, in October 2023. Secondly, Prabowo had the backing of Indonesia’s elite, in particular his brother and “an alliance of mining oligarchs and several giant capitalists who … supported the pair behind the scenes” (Hermawan, 2024).

Finally, Prabowo reinvented himself yet again – this time as a “gemoy” (cute) grandpa – and launched a campaign of “digital populism” on social media (primarily the video platform TikTok), featuring him “dad dancing” on campaign stages and adopting an approach vaguely reminiscent of Trump’s rally antics. This “reinvention tour” appealed to thrill Indonesia’s GenZ and millennial voters, who make up the majority of the country’s electorate and have little or no memory of Indonesia’s authoritarian past or Prabowo’s role in the violent end to the New Order in 1998. Here, too, Jokowi’s backing was also critical, not only in furnishing the young Gibran as Prabowo’s campaign sidekick. As Ary Hermawan (2024) has noted, “Prabowo’s new persona as a ‘cuddly grandpa’ [was] manufactured by an army of cybertroopers,” the majority of which were inherited from Jokowi’s political outfit and which the Prabowo camp deftly used to blunt “campaigns targeting the former general’s checkered human rights record—a key issue in the 2014 election” that Prabowo, ironically enough, lost to Jokowi (Ibid.)

Political Style and Controversies

Presidential candidate Prabowo Subianto and vice-presidential candidate Gibran Rakabuming Raka deliver a speech to their supporters in Jakarta, Indonesia, on February 14, 2024. Photo: Prayoga Nugroho.

Prabowo has been famously described as a chameleon, presenting different colors depending on the audience. As one profile put it on the eve of the 2014 presidential campaign, “The pro-business cosmopolitan who can ‘knock Indonesia together’ is the one who shows up to events at posh Jakarta hotels with diplomats and investors. The fist-shaking demagogue is the one who appears in front of the voters” (Tanu, 2004). Prabowo’s past has been a subject of scrutiny, particularly during his presidential campaigns in 2014, 2019 and 2024, with many organizations calling for investigations into his actions during this period. As far as personality is concerned, he is often described as “temperamental,” with “a propensity for outbursts of rage that sometimes involve physical violence, with reports circulating widely of him throwing cellphones, ashtrays, and even punches when angered by his associates or underlings” (Aspinall, 2015: 8–9).

His political style is emblematic of a broader global trend towards authoritarian nationalist populism, a mode of governance characterized by strong leadership, assertive nationalism, and, often, a skepticism towards liberal democratic norms. In Indonesia, Prabowo has cultivated an image of a decisive leader, one who promises to restore order, enhance national pride and protect Indonesian interests from foreign encroachment. This approach has garnered substantial support, particularly among voters disillusioned with the perceived inefficacies of previous administrations.

Despite his impeccable elite credentials (he descends from Javanese aristocracy on his father’s side and is the scion of one of Indonesia’s wealthiest and best-connected families), Prabowo loves to style himself as an “outsider” and a “maverick.” The latter is not actually far from the truth, a personality trait that has been in evidence since his days at the military academy in the early 1970s, where — despite his impressive mastery of military lore and practice — he quickly developed a reputation for independence (his graduation was delayed because he spent some time AWOL), most likely a reflection of his experience as a “third culture kid” in exile around the world in the 1960s.

However, this same political style raises concerns about the potential erosion of democratic principles, including checks and balances, freedom of speech and minority rights. Prabowo’s emphasis on nationalism and sovereignty taps into deep-seated sentiments among the populace, yet it also risks inflaming divisions within Indonesia’s ethnically and religiously diverse society. The manifesto of his Gerindra Party calls for a rollback of the post-Suharto constitutional reforms and a return to Indonesia’s original 1945 Constitution, which Indonesia’s first two presidents, Sukarno and Suharto, had used to establish authoritarian regimes over five decades.

Prabowo’s approach to governance also reflects a skepticism towards liberal internationalism, favoring instead a more insular, Indonesia-first policy. This stance is evident in his critiques of foreign investment and his proposals to reevaluate Indonesia’s participation in international trade agreements, which he argues disadvantage Indonesian workers and compromise national sovereignty. Such positions resonate with nationalist sentiments within Indonesia, promising economic sovereignty and the protection of local industries against global market forces. However, this economic nationalism has sparked debates about the practical implications for Indonesia’s economy, with critics cautioning that protectionist policies could isolate Indonesia from global supply chains and hinder economic growth.

Conclusion: What Can We Expect from a Prabowo Presidency?

After decades of aspiring to lead Indonesia, we can be sure that Prabowo has a clear idea of where he wants to take the country and a clear plan of how to do so. Volatile and mercurial, he is equally pragmatic and will almost certainly be looking to cut deals and build alliances, not least with his major opponent, Megawati’s Indonesian Party of Struggle (PDI–P), which has the largest number of seats in Indonesia’s House of Representatives (DPR). But at 72 years of age and in less-than-robust health, time is not on his side, and he is likely to quickly lose patience with Indonesia’s messy consensus-building approach or overt political opposition, be it in the DPR or on the streets.

Throughout his political career, Prabowo Subianto has faced numerous controversies, many of which stem from his tenure in the Indonesian military, as detailed above. Allegations of human rights abuses during his leadership of the special forces in the 1990s, particularly in regions like East Timor and Aceh, have dogged him, casting a long shadow over his subsequent political endeavors. While Prabowo has consistently denied any wrongdoing, these allegations have been a focal point for critics who argue that his presidency could signal a return to the repressive practices of Indonesia’s past. This history, combined with his current political rhetoric, feeds into fears of an authoritarian drift should Prabowo consolidate power, potentially leading to a curtailment of civil liberties and a crackdown on dissent.

Prabowo’s casual disregard for democracy has also been on display during his successive presidential bids. For example, his 2014 campaign “espoused an authoritarian populist message suggesting he wanted to recentralize power and dismantle key democratic institutions” (Aspinall & Mietzner, 2014: 347). He has also floated the idea that “the country to do away with direct elections of executive government leaders—which he described as a Western product inappropriate for Indonesia” (Ibid.: 352). Before constitutional reforms in the 2000s instituted popular elections of Indonesia’s president and regional governors, they were appointed by their respective legislatures. As Tim Lindsey (2024) has recently pointed out, much of the work of dismantling the reforms of the last 30 years has already been accomplished: “Many of the elements of the New Order are already in place. Much of the work of dismantling Indonesia’s liberal democracy has already been done by the outgoing president” Jokowi, who has overseen an “illiberal turn in Indonesian democracy” over the last decade (Anugrah, 2019).

These points underscore concerns about the erosion of democratic norms and the potential for increased polarization within one of the world’s most diverse countries. Prabowo’s background as a former military general with a controversial record further compounds fears about the centralization of power and the undermining of checks and balances in governance. As this profile shows, these fears are hardly overblown – Prabowo’s record offers clear pointers as to how he is likely to attempt to govern.

Indonesia now stands at a crossroads. President Prabowo’s leadership will test the resilience of the country’s democratic institutions and its capacity to navigate the tension between strongman governance and pluralistic values. Prabowo’s tenure could bring decisive action on issues like economic sovereignty and national security, but at what cost to civil liberties and political freedoms? His legacy will be determined not just by the policies he enacts but by how he handles the delicate balance between authority and accountability, nationalism and inclusivity. The question that now lingers is whether Prabowo’s leadership will unite Indonesia under a shared vision or deepen the divisions that have long shaped the nation’s complex political landscape.

 

References

Anugrah, I. (2020). “The Illiberal Turn in Indonesian Democracy.” The Asia-Pacific Journal: Japan Focus, 18(8), 1–17.

Arifianto, A. R. (2019). “What the 2019 Election Says About Indonesian Democracy.” Asia Policy, 26(4), 46–53. 

Aspinall, E. (2005). Opposing Suharto: Compromise, Resistance and Regime Change in Indonesia. Stanford University Press.

Aspinall, E. (2015). “Oligarchic Populism: Prabowo Subianto’s Challenge to Indonesian Democracy.” Indonesia, 99, 1–28. https://doi.org/10.5728/indonesia.99.0001

Aspinall, E., & Mietzner, M. (2014). “Indonesian Politics in 2014: Democracy’s Close Call.” Bulletin of Indonesian Economic Studies, 50(3), 347–369. https://doi.org/10.1080/00074918.2014.980375

Aspinall, E., Mietzner, M., & Tomsa, D. (2015). The Yudhoyono Presidency: Indonesia’s Decade of Stability and Stagnation. Institute of Southeast Asian Studies.

Connelly, Evan A., & Laksmana, A. (2024, 14 March). “Jokowi Offers Prabowo a Piece of the Pie.” Foreign Policy. https://foreignpolicy.com/2019/10/31/indonesia-democracy-general-jokowi-offers-prabowo-a-piece-of-the-pie/

De la Torre, C. (2007). “The Resurgence of Radical Populism in Latin America.” Constellations, 14(3), 384–397.

Friend, T. (2003). Indonesian destinies. Belknap Press of Harvard University Press.

Gammon, L. (2023). “Strong ‘Weak’ Parties and ‘Partial Populism’ in Indonesia.” Contemporary Southeast Asia: A Journal of International and Strategic Affairs, 45(3), 442–464.

Hellmann, O. (2019). “Populism in East Asia.” In: C. Rovira Kaltwasser, P. A. Taggart, P. Ochoa Espejo, & P. Ostiguy (Eds.), The Oxford Handbook of Populism (pp. 161–178). Oxford University Press.

Hermawan, A. (2024, 19 June). “How Indonesia’s Cyberspace Entrenches Oligarchic Power.” Asialink. https://asialink.unimelb.edu.au/insights/how-indonesias-cyberspace-entrenches-oligarchic-power

Jakarta Globe (2019, 17 April). “Indonesia Sees Record Turnout in Historic Election, Braces for Fallout.” https://jakartaglobe.id/context/indonesia-sees-record-turnout-in-historic-election-braces-for-fallout

Lindsey, T. (2024, 19 October). “Indonesia’s New President, Prabowo Subianto, Finds Democracy ‘Very Tiring’. Are Darker Days Ahead for the Country?” The Conversation. http://theconversation.com/indonesias-new-president-prabowo-subianto-finds-democracy-very-tiring-are-darker-days-ahead-for-the-country-241256

Mao, F. (2024, 15 February). “Prabowo Subianto: The tainted ex-military chief who will be Indonesia’s new leader.” BBC. https://www.bbc.com/news/world-asia-68237141

Nairn, A. (2024, 10 February). “Indonesia State Apparatus Is Preparing to Throw Election to a Notorious Massacre General.” The Intercept. https://theintercept.com/2024/02/10/indonesia-election-results-prabowo-fraud-stolen-election/

Pollock, D. C., & Reken, R. E. V. (2009). Third Culture Kids: Growing Up Among Worlds (2nd edition). Nicholas Brealey America.

Purdey, J. (2016). “Narratives to Power: The Case of the Djojohadikusumo Family Dynasty over Four Generations.” South East Asia Research, 24(3), 369–385. https://doi.org/10.1177/0967828X16659728

Slater, D. (2018). “Party Cartelization, Indonesian-style: Presidential Power-sharing and the Contingency of Democratic Opposition.” Journal of East Asian Studies, 18(1), 23–46. https://doi.org/10.1017/jea.2017.26

Soeriaatmadja, W., & Chan, F. (2019, 22 May). “6 Killed, 200 Injured in Jakarta Election Protests that Police Say are ‘By Design’.” The Straits Times. https://www.straitstimes.com/asia/se-asia/security-forces-use-tear-gas-to-disperse-small-groups-of-rioters-in-jakarta

Strangio, S. (2024, 21 March). Indonesian Election Commission Affirms Prabowo’s Landslide Victory. https://thediplomat.com/2024/03/indonesian-election-commission-affirms-prabowos-landslide-victory/

Tanu, D. (2014, 26 June). “Prabowo the Chameleon.” New Mandala. https://www.newmandala.org/prabowo-the-chameleon/

Tesoro, J. M. (2000, 3 March). “The Scapegoat.” Asiaweek, 26(8), http://www-cgi.cnn.com/ASIANOW/asiaweek/magazine/2000/0303/cover1.html

Utama, V. R. (2023, 15 December). “Prabowo Subianto: Indonesia’s Perennial Strongman Recast as the Adorable Grandpa.” Indonesia at Melbourne. Retrieved 21 October 2024, from https://indonesiaatmelbourne.unimelb.edu.au/prabowo-subianto-indonesias-perennial-strongman-recast-as-the-adorable-grandpa/

van Klinken, G. (2009). “Patronage Democracy in Provincial Indonesia.” In: O. Törnquist, N. Webster, & K. Stokke (Eds.), Rethinking Popular Representation (pp. 141–159). Palgrave Macmillan. https://doi.org/10.1057/9780230102095_8

van Klinken, G. (2014, 17 April). “Prabowo and Human Rights.” Inside Indonesia. https://www.insideindonesia.org/editions/elections-2014/prabowo-and-human-rights

van Klinken, G. (2020). “The Origins of Indonesian Populism: Public Debate in Java, March–June 1945.” Indonesia, 110(1), 43–72.

Winters, J. A. (2013). “Oligarchy and Democracy in Indonesia.” Indonesia, 96(1), 11–33.

[1] Indonesian naming conventions differ significantly from the Western model of first, middle and last names. Names may consist of one or more words, with one-word names particularly common among the Javanese (e.g., Suharto). Prabowo Subianto is commonly referred to by his first name, “Prabowo,” which aligns with Indonesian naming conventions, where individuals with multiple names are often identified with a single, unique personal name. Thus, he does not generally use the family name “Djojohadikusumo,” in contrast to his father and brother, Hashim. In this profile I introduce each politician with his or her first and second names and refer subsequently to their most commonly used one-word identifier.

 

Illustration: Design Rage.

A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries

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Nguijoi, Gabriel Cyrille. (2024). “A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries.” ECPS Book Reviews. European Center for Populism Studies. September 19, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/br0018

 

In this book, Professor Pranab Bardhan examines the complex interplay between economic and cultural insecurities through a mixture of empirical data and comparative case studies covering different socio-political backgrounds. It emphasizes populist politics by capitalizing on widespread feelings of vulnerability and disenchantment with traditional democratic institutions. Bardhan argues that populists tend to adopt a simplified, emotive rhetoric that appeals to fears of economic displacement, cultural loss, and existential threats, thereby circumventing nuanced, evidence-based discussions on the actual causes of insecurity. Unlike many studies that narrowly focus on economic inequality as the sole driver of populism, Bardhan’s work explores the broader spectrum of insecurities-economic, cultural, and existential-that foster democratic disenchantment. This book makes a significant contribution to the literature by providing a comprehensive, interdisciplinary analysis that enhances our understanding of the multifaceted challenges facing democracies today.

Reviewed by Dr. Gabriel Cyrille Nguijoi 

How do global societies navigate the increasing complexities and contradictions inherent in democratic governance amidst rising insecurity? What roles do economic anxieties, and cultural tensions play in shaping populist movements across the world? Why is understanding the multifaceted forms of insecurity essential to diagnosing the current democratic crisis? What drives citizens, particularly in diverse socio-political contexts, to place their trust in authoritarian figures who promise stability and protection? 

These are the pressing questions that Pranab Bardhan, Distinguished Professor Emeritus of Economics at the University of California, Berkeley, addresses in his critical work, A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries. Published by Harvard University Press in 2022, Bardhan’s book offers a comprehensive exploration of the factors driving democratic backsliding and the erosion of civic norms across both developed and developing countries. Drawing on a wealth of empirical data and comparative case studies, Bardhan challenges the prevailing assumption that rising inequality is the sole driver of democratic disenchantment, proposing instead that a broader and deeper sense of insecurity-economic, cultural, and existential is at the core of this global phenomenon. Through a rigorous interdisciplinary approach, Bardhan offers a nuanced analysis that bridges the divide between the experiences of rich and poor countries, demonstrating that the threats to democracy are both universal in their essence and unique in their manifestation.

Bardhan’s exploration begins with an incisive critique of the commonly held belief that economic inequality is the predominant cause of democratic erosion. While acknowledging the importance of inequality, Bardhan shifts the focus toward a more complex web of insecurities that underlie the current discontent with democratic governance. He argues that economic insecurity, which includes job loss, wage stagnation, and the erosion of social safety nets, has fundamentally altered the political landscape in both wealthy and poorer nations. Drawing from recent data from the V-Dem Institute, Freedom House, and other democratic indexes, he notes that the world is witnessing a dramatic rise in “autocratization” with liberal democracies declining in number and influence. Autocracies now govern the majority of the world’s population, and only a small fraction of people live in countries that are becoming more democratic. The author’s argument is that this is not simply the result of increased economic inequality but is deeply tied to broader insecurities that extend beyond the economic domain, encompassing cultural, social, and even existential dimensions.

The book meticulously dissects the interplay between economic insecurity and cultural anxieties. Bardhan emphasizes that the economic anxieties triggered by globalization, automation, and technological disruptions have been compounded by cultural insecurities related to immigration, national identity, and perceived threats to social cohesion. He examines the populist backlash against globalization, noting that while there has been some decline in international trade due to geopolitical tensions and supply chain disruptions, the more significant issue is the perceived cultural threat posed by immigrants and minorities. Bardhan draws on case studies from various countries, including the United States, India, Brazil, and European nations, to illustrate how populist leaders exploit these insecurities to foster support for authoritarian measures. He highlights how figures like Donald Trump, Narendra Modi, Jair Bolsonaro, Viktor Orbán, and Recep Tayyip Erdogan have utilized nationalist rhetoric, historical grievances, and cultural myths to galvanize support and undermine democratic norms. By framing their leadership as a defense against external and internal enemies, these leaders create a narrative of existential threat that justifies the erosion of democratic institutions and civil liberties.

Bardhan’s analysis is particularly compelling in its examination of the dynamics of “majoritarianism” and the way populist leaders manipulate democratic processes to entrench their power. He provides a thorough critique of how elected leaders in countries such as India, Hungary, Turkey, and the United States have systematically undermined judicial independence, curtailed press freedom, and eroded checks and balances to consolidate authority. He argues that these leaders exploit cultural insecurities, presenting themselves as defenders of the “real” people against corrupt elites and dangerous minorities. This tactic resonates strongly with populations experiencing rapid social and economic change, who feel their traditional ways of life are under threat. The author presents evidence that these populist strategies are often successful in garnering mass support, especially in environments where economic insecurities are compounded by cultural fears of displacement and loss.

In addition to his analysis of populism and majoritarianism, Bardhan also tackles the growing attraction to authoritarian capitalism, particularly the “China model.” He explores how China’s perceived economic success has led to a fascination with authoritarian governance in many parts of the world, both among political elites and ordinary citizens who are disillusioned with democratic performance. He critiques the simplistic binary of democracy versus authoritarianism, arguing that the success of the Chinese model is not purely a result of its authoritarian nature but is also due to specific historical, institutional, and policy factors that are not easily replicable elsewhere. He points out that many democratic countries have adopted elements of state-led capitalism, such as strategic state investments in key industries, without abandoning democratic governance. Bardhan thus challenges the notion that authoritarianism is necessary for economic development, arguing instead for a democratic governance model that incorporates strong state capacity and effective public policies to promote social and economic stability.

Throughout the book, he skillfully combines theoretical insights with empirical data to support his arguments. He uses a wealth of examples from different regions to illustrate the universality and specificity of democratic disenchantment. For instance, he draws parallels between the cultural nationalism of Modi’s (India), which seeks to marginalize religious and ethnic minorities, and Trump’s (America), where the rhetoric of “America First” has been used to justify exclusionary policies and undermine democratic norms. The author’s global perspective is one of the major strengths of the book, as it allows him to highlight both the commonalities and differences in the experiences of democratic backsliding across various contexts.

The interdisciplinary approach is another notable feature of Bardhan’s book. He draws on insights from economics, political science, sociology, and cultural studies to provide a comprehensive understanding of the forces driving democratic erosion. His discussion of the economic dimensions of insecurity, such as the impact of globalization and automation on job security and wages, is particularly illuminating. Bardhan also explores how cultural insecurities are intertwined with economic anxieties, as people who feel left behind by economic changes often perceive themselves to be culturally marginalized as well. This dual focus on economic and cultural insecurity provides a more nuanced understanding of the populist challenge to democracy, as it shows how these two forms of insecurity reinforce each other to create a fertile ground for authoritarianism.

His discussion of potential solutions to the democratic crisis is just as thorough and well-founded. He advocates for a rejuvenation of social democracy as a viable alternative to both unfettered capitalism and authoritarian populism. Bardhan argues that social democracy, with its emphasis on social justice, economic security, and democratic participation, offers a path forward that can address the insecurities driving democratic discontent. He suggests that social democrats must reorient their policies to better address the needs of those who feel left behind by globalization and technological change. This includes advocating for policies such as universal basic income, progressive taxation, and public investment in education, healthcare, and infrastructure. He also emphasizes the importance of strengthening democratic institutions and promoting civic engagement to counter the influence of populist narratives and rebuild trust in democratic governance.

However, Bardhan does not shy away from acknowledging the challenges and limitations of his proposed solutions. He recognizes that the revival of social democracy will require significant reforms in welfare states, labor markets, and public finance, which may be politically difficult to achieve, especially in contexts where democratic institutions are already weakened. He also discusses the challenges of implementing social democratic policies in countries with weaker state capacity and more polarized political environments. He provides a critical examination of the obstacles to policy implementation, including resistance from powerful vested interests, bureaucratic inefficiencies, and the complexity of coordinating policy efforts across different levels of government. The author’s recognition of these challenges adds depth to his analysis and prevents it from becoming overly idealistic.

The book concludes with a reflection on the future of democracy in an age of insecurity. Bardhan reiterates his argument that the current crisis is not merely a result of economic inequality but is rooted in deeper insecurities that cut across economic, cultural, and social dimensions. He calls for a renewed commitment to democratic values and institutions, emphasizing that the solution to democratic disenchantment lies not in abandoning democracy but in reimagining it to meet the challenges of the twenty-first century. Bardhan’s call for a rejuvenation of social democracy is both a critique of current democratic practices and a hopeful vision for the future. He argues that by addressing the insecurities that fuel populism, democracies can be revitalized and made more resilient to the challenges they face.

Overall, Bardhan’s book A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries is a thought-provoking and timely contribution to the literature on democratic erosion and populism. It offers a fresh perspective on the current democratic crisis by shifting the focus from inequality to insecurity and provides a nuanced analysis of the complex forces driving democratic disenchantment around the world. The book’s comparative approach, interdisciplinary method, and focus on both developed and developing countries make it a valuable resource for scholars, policymakers, and anyone interested in understanding the future of democracy. While Bardhan’s call for a revival of social democracy is compelling, his analysis also serves as a sobering reminder of the challenges involved in achieving such a transformation. The book is a must-read for those seeking to understand the underlying causes of democratic backsliding and the potential pathways to democratic renewal in an age of uncertainty and insecurity.

 

Bardhan, P. (2022). A World of Insecurity: Democratic Disenchantment in Rich and Poor Countries. Harvard University Press. 240 pp. Hardcover €25.95, ISBN 9780674259843

Photo: Nico El-Nino.

International Conference on ‘Digital Complexity and Disinformation in the Indo-Pacific’

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We are pleased to announce that the International Conference on ‘Digital Complexity and Disinformation in the Indo-Pacific’ is scheduled to take place on September 25-26, 2024, both online via Zoom and in person in Melbourne. This significant conference is a collaborative effort organized by the Alfred Deakin Institute for Citizenship and Globalisation (ADI) at Deakin University, Australia; the Department of Communication Sciences at Universitas Indonesia (UI); the Institute of Social Sciences and Humanities at the National Research and Innovation Agency (BRIN); the Faculty of Social and Political Sciences at Universitas Gadjah Mada (UGM); the Faculty of Social and Political Sciences at Universitas Muhammadiyah Malang (UMM); the Department of Political Science at Kulliyyah of Islamic Revealed Knowledge and Human Sciences, International Islamic University Malaysia (IIUM); the State Islamic University (UIN) Salatiga; and the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) in Brussels, Belgium.

While digital technologies have revolutionized many aspects of our societies, the promises of inclusivity and progress they bring often do not align with the realities on the ground. These technologies are increasingly being exploited as tools for disinformation, political manipulation, and even digital authoritarianism, posing significant challenges to democratic values and social cohesion.

The Indo-Pacific region is particularly susceptible to these challenges, as disinformation and misinformation spread rapidly across digital platforms such as Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Telegram, and WhatsApp, exacerbating societal divisions. Moreover, political actors often leverage these platforms to silence criticism, control information flows, and even restrict access to critical digital infrastructure to consolidate their power.

The discussions during this international conference will explore the complex interactions between digital technologies, cyberspace, social media platforms, and political dynamics in the region. Scholars, practitioners, and policymakers from various institutions will offer insights into the impacts of digital disinformation and explore pathways to counter these challenges while promoting digital literacy and inclusivity.

This conference is made possible through the generous support of the Australian Research Council (ARC) via a Discovery Project grant, the Gerda Henkel Foundation, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), and the Alfred Deakin Institute (ADI), all of which are committed to fostering academic inquiry into this pressing global issue. The conference aims to serve as a platform for fruitful discussions and meaningful collaboration, enabling us to better understand digital complexity and its implications for democracy in the Indo-Pacific.

Click here to register!

 

Turkey's President Recep Tayyip Erdogan and Ali Erbas, the head of the Directorate of Religious Affairs (Diyanet) is seen during a public rally in Istanbul on the second anniversary of failed coup attempt on July 15, 2016. Photo: Shutterstock.

Digital Authoritarianism and Religious Populism in Turkey

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Kenes, Bulent & Yilmaz, Ihsan.(2024). “Digital Authoritarianism and Religious Populism in Turkey.” Populism & Politics (P&P). European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). September 14, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/pp0042

 

Abstract

This article explores the interplay between religious populism, religious justification and the systematic attempts to control cyberspace by the Justice and Development Party (AKP) in Turkey. Drawing from an array of scholarly sources, media reports, and legislative developments, the study unravels the multifaceted strategies employed by the ruling AKP to monopolize digital media spaces and control the information published, consumed and shared within these spaces. The narrative navigates the evolution of the AKP’s tactics, spotlighting the fusion of religious discourse with state policies to legitimize stringent control mechanisms within the digital sphere. Emphasizing the entwinement of Islamist populism with digital authoritarianism, the article provides evidence of the strategic utilization of religious platforms, figures, and media outlets to reinforce the narrative of digital authoritarianism as a protector of Islamic values and societal morality. Key focal points include the instrumentalization of state-controlled mosques and religious institutions to propagate government narratives on digital media censorship, alongside the co-option of religious leaders to endorse control policies. The article traces the rise of pro-AKP media entities and the coercive tactics used to stifle dissent, culminating in the domination of digital spaces by government-aligned voices. Furthermore, the analysis elucidates recent legislative endeavors aimed at further tightening the government’s grip on social media platforms, exploring the potential implications for free speech and democratic discourse in the digital realm. 

Keywords: Digital Authoritarianism, Religious Populism, Media Control, Islamism, Digital Governance, Cyberspace, Fatwas, Sermons

 

By Bulent Kenes & Ihsan Yilmaz

Introduction

The rise of religious populism and authoritarianism marks Turkey’s political trajectory under Erdoganism, in which the ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) has transformed the nation’s governance since 2002. The aftermath of Kemalism brought with it a paradoxical quest for modernization within a less-than-democratic framework. The AKP’s ascent heralded a shift, initially portraying pro-democratic sentiments, but is now defined by authoritarian leanings akin to those of the Kemalist regime. This metamorphosis mirrors global trends that have witnessed authoritarian governance seeping into democratic systems.

The distinctiveness of Erdoganism lies in its merging of Islamist populism into Turkey’s political fabric, fostering electoral authoritarianism, neopatrimonialism, and populism. AKP leader and Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan’s centralized authority converges the Turkish state, society, and governmental institutions, perpetuating a widespread sense of uncertainty, fear, and trust in a strong leader that bolsters authoritarianism. The dynamics of religion, state, and identity construction redefine Turkey’s sociopolitical landscape, with governmental activities aimed at constructing a ‘pious generation’ while diminishing voices of dissent (Yabanci, 2019).

The political landscape in Turkey, particularly under the rule of the AKP, has witnessed a discernible shift marked by increasingly stringent measures against various segments of society. This trend notably encompasses a wide spectrum of individuals, including political opposition factions, minority groups, human rights advocates, academics, journalists, and dissenting voices within civil society (Westendarp, 2021; BBC News, 2020; BBC News, 2017a; Homberg et al., 2017).

Statistics paint a stark picture of the government’s crackdown: alarmingly, more than 150 thousand individuals have faced dismissals from their positions, while over 2 million people have become subjects of “terrorism investigations” following a coup attempt in the country in 2016 (Turkish Minute, 2022). Furthermore, approximately 100 thousand arrests have been documented since the onset of these measures in 2016. The widespread erasure of oppositional or critical voices – real or potential – extends beyond the targeting of individuals and encompasses entire institutions. Academic institutions have borne the brunt of this oppressive regime, resulting in the closure of more than 3 thousand educational establishments, and the dismissal of 6 thousand scholars. The media sector has also suffered a significant blow, with 319 journalists arrested and 189 media outlets forcefully shut down, signaling a profound attack on free speech and the press. The legal profession has also faced targeting, witnessing the loss of 4 and a half thousand legal professionals (Turkey Purge 2019).

Moreover, the AKP’s influence has transcended national borders, impacting Turkish citizens living in diasporas around the world. Instances of extradition of members of the Turkish diaspora on charges related to terrorism or alleged connections to security threats have been reported, highlighting the government’s efforts to exert control beyond its territorial boundaries. This phenomenon has led to the perception of the government as possessing “long arms,” capable of reaching, influencing, and punishing individuals even when living outside the country (Edwards, 2018).

The evolution of Turkey’s digital landscape since 2016 reveals a pronounced shift marked by intensified security protocols and offline repressions. A critical assessment conducted by Freedom House, evaluating global internet freedom between 2016 and 2020, highlights a concerning and tangible decline in internet freedom in Turkey, which significantly intensified following the failed coup attempt in 2016. Notably, the classification of internet freedom as being “not free” underscores the severity of limitations imposed during these years (Daily Sabah, 2021a, 2021b; World Bank, 2021).

Pervasive Online Presence of Turkish Citizens

Despite this lack of freedom, statistics highlight the pervasive influence of the internet within Turkish society (World Bank, 2021). A study from the initial quarter of 2021 indicated that over 80 percent of internet users were consistently active online during these three months, highlighting the integral role the internet plays in the lives of citizens (Daily Sabah, 2021). Data reports tracking internet usage of Turkish citizens suggest that in early 2024, internet penetration in Turkey was at its highest level at 86.5 percent (Kemp, 2024). These findings demonstrate a picture of sustained and pervasive digital engagement within the populace.

Social media findings further underscore the influence of internet usage, revealing an average daily duration of 7 hours and 29 minutes per individual (Bianet, 2020). By January 2024, the number of social media users in the country stands at 57.5 million users, or nearly 70 percent of the total population (Kemp, 2024). Social media platforms, including Facebook, YouTube, WhatsApp, Instagram, TikTok, Snapchat, and Twitter, account for this considerable online presence (Bianet 2020). 

Crucially for this discussion, this digital landscape has become a vital arena for dissenting voices, particularly as traditional media outlets witness declining audience numbers.

Consequently, the internet has emerged as a potent tool for voices of opposition within Turkey. In response to the increased possibilities for these voices in an increasingly online society, the AKP government has initiated various regulatory and surveillance measures aimed at controlling and monitoring the digital sphere, reflecting efforts to suppress dissenting narratives and oppositional voices (Bellut, 2021). Their efforts at digital governance reflect and intensify the government’s broader strategy of curtailing dissent across various levels of society.

The AKP’s Use of Religion to Legitimize a Digital Authoritarian Agenda

The intertwining of religion and state under the AKP’s governance has legitimized and fortified its digital authoritarianism. For example, a recent trend reveals the government’s adept use of Islamic discourse to rationalize the imposition of censorship and crackdowns on online opposition, portraying control over digital technology as a safeguard for Turkish values and moral rectitude. The strategic operationalization of religious values as a legitimizing force for digital authoritarianism is highly indicative of the AKP government’s efforts at consolidating power and suppressing opposition within the online sphere, profoundly shaping the contours of digital discourse and expression in Turkey.

Central to this strategy is the dissemination of Islamic values through state-managed religious institutions, traditional media, and social media platforms, all serving as conduits for aligning public sentiment with the government’s digital autocratic agenda. The propagation of Islamic tenets has been instrumental in molding public opinion to favor the government’s stringent and increasingly authoritarian approach to digital governance. In an effort to increase legitimacy and garner wider support, religious leaders and organizations have been strategically co-opted to support the government’s digital authoritarian agenda.

The cumulative effect of the integration of religion and digital governance has created a pervasive climate of censorship and self-censorship online. Individuals are discouraged from expressing dissenting views or disseminating information that could be perceived as contradictory to religious principles. This climate of caution and apprehension consequently serves to inhibit free expression and discourse within the digital realm, by not only fortifying the government’s authoritarian stance but also influencing the behavioral patterns of online users, curtailing the free flow of information and divergent opinions.

By adopting an interdisciplinary approach encompassing political science, religious studies, media analysis, and socio-political discourse, the paper aims to provide a comprehensive and empirically informed understanding of how religious justification has been systematically employed to legitimize methods of controlling voices of dissent online and foster a pro-AKP narrative in Turkey’s digital governance landscape.

This analysis will contribute to a deeper comprehension of the complex interplay between religion, politics, and digital authoritarianism in contemporary Turkey. This study will highlight how the ruling AKP fuse religion with the state’s digital agenda. It will also demonstrate their reliance on a network of religious platforms, figures, and media to reinforce the narrative of digital authoritarianism as a means of upholding Islamic values and protecting societal morality. The confluence of religious influence and governmental objectives, it will be argued, serves to shape public opinion and garner support for stringent control measures within the digital realm.

Religious Populism of Erdoganism and the AKP’s Authoritarianism

Since the country’s formation in 1923, Turkey has never been perceived as a highly democratic country from the perspective of Western libertarianism. Its initial phase featured a sort of national reconstruction from the worn-out centuries of the Ottoman Empire, which had faced a humiliating defeat at the hands of the Allied forces in World War One (WWI) towards the Republic. The Young Turks, who later became the Kemalists, set the country on a path of reformation with paradoxical ideas of modernization. While the country moved from a centuries-old monarchy to a parliamentary system, it remained far from democratic (Yilmaz’ 2021a). Between 1923 and 1946, Turkey was ruled by the Kemalist Republican People’s Party (CHP) alone. Even following the commencement of multi-party elections, the Turkish political and institutional landscape continued to be dominated by Kemalists until the AKP rose to power. The only exception was a brief period between 1996 and 1997 when Necmettin Erbakan and his right-wing Milli Gorus’s (National View) inspired Welfare Party (RP) held office (Yildiz, 2003). 

The transition from Kemalism to Erdoganism, President Erdogan’s political ideology, was meticulously orchestrated, consolidating the state narrative and silencing opposing voices. The AKP initiated significant constitutional changes, starting with a referendum aimed at removing the Kemalist judiciary from power, and the Ergenekon and Sledgehammer trials which targeted key Kemalist military figures (Kuru, 2012: 51). Although these trials did not conclusively prove the accused’s ‘anti-state’ intentions, they significantly swayed public opinion against Kemalist control of the judiciary and military.

The 2010 Turkish Constitutional Referendum overwhelmingly favored the AKP, seeking increased control over the judiciary and military (Kalaycioglu, 2011). As a result, the outcome expanded parliamentary and presidential authority over appointments to the Constitutional Court and the Supreme Board of Judges and Prosecutors (HSYK), enabling the AKP government to install its own appointees. This marked the end of Kemalist dominance in these institutions and paved the way for AKP influence – and an increasingly authoritarian agenda.

The AKP’s authoritarianism is distinguished from Kemalism by its adept blending of Islamist populism into its political discourse and agenda. While Kemalists championed secularism and Turkish nationalism, Erdoganists espouse an iron-fisted Islamist ideology rooted in the legacy of the Ottoman Empire. This has birthed a new form of autocracy known as “Erdoganism” (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018), characterized by four pivotal elements: electoral authoritarianism, neopatrimonialism, populism, and Islamism. (Yilmaz & Turner, 2019; Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018).

The socio-political landscape of Turkey has experienced a rapid decline, from an initially promising image of democratization to an authoritarian posture of governance with the ascent of AKP in 2002. The AKP’s transition from a seemingly pro-democracy to an authoritarian party has come to resemble the Kemalist tradition of violating democratic freedoms and rights (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018). Today, the public presence of the military, arbitrary crackdowns and arrests are now normalized activities of the Turkish state.

Erdogan’s dominant persona has resulted in the centralization of power around his leadership. This was particularly evident following the 2017 Constitutional Referendum, which transitioned the country into a Presidential system. Under this concentration of power, Erdoganism brought about an assimilation of the Turkish nation, state, and its economic, social, and political institutions (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018). By positioning himself as a referent object, Erdogan reinforces his grip on power while redefining the contours of Turkish identity, politics, and, as will be developed in this paper, the relationship between religion and the state (Yilmaz, 2000; Yilmaz, 2008, Yilmaz et al., 2021a; Yilmaz & Erturk 2022, 2021; Yilmaz et al., 2021b).

Co-opting of Religious Authorities and the Diyanet to Support AKP’s Authoritarian Agenda

President Erdogan has solidified the politicoreligious ideology of Erdoganism by fostering a close alliance with Turkey’s official religious authority, the Directorate of Religious Affairs (Diyanet). Initially established in 1924 by the Kemalist regime to centralize religious activities and advocate for a ‘secular’ form of Turkish Islam, Diyanet’s role has significantly expanded since the ascent of the AKP and has transformed to accommodate the party’s political Islamist identity.

This relationship is reflected in the increased budget allocation to the religious authority. The Turkish government’s 2023 budget proposal notably elevated Diyanet’s budget by 117 percent (Duvar, 2022). This influenced a substantial increase in funding grants, financial incentives and the heightened prestige of religious leaders and prominent imams. In return, Diyanet extends its loyalty and political support, including aligning with the AKP on digital policy and governance. President Erdogan strategically appoints pro-government religious figures such as Ali Erbas now President of Diyanet, to influential positions. Erbas, recognized for his religious conservatism, has cultivated a close relationship with President Erdogan and endorsed his call for a new Constitution (Martin, 2021).

Erbas’ conspicuous presence in public and political affairs underscores the intimate rapport between him and Erdogan. For instance, during the inauguration of the new Court of Cassation building, attended by President Erdogan, Erbas led a prayer praising its new location (Duvar, 2021). Additionally, Erbas represented President Erdogan at the funeral of Islamic cleric Yusuf al-Qaradawi, a supporter of Erdogan and the Muslim Brotherhood, in 2022 (Nordic Monitor, 2022). The building of ties between members of the government and the religious organization strengthens Diyanet’s role not just as a religious institution but also as a significant political force.

The Erdogan/AKP government has harnessed religious institutions, in particular mosques, to disseminate its positions and policies to the broader public through sermons, religious teachings, and various activities. A content analysis spanning from 2010 to 2021 reveals that Diyanet-run Friday sermons mirror the political stance of the AKP. These sermons were found to support Turkey’s involvement in the Syrian conflict, while vilifying ‘FETOists’—referring to the Gulen movement accused of terrorism. This analysis showcases how Diyanet employs affective religious rhetoric to endorse Erdogan’s decisions, discourage opposition, vilify perceived adversaries, propagate fear and conspiracies, and divert attention from the government’s shortcomings in areas spanning foreign policy, economics, and beyond (Yilmaz & Albayrak, 2022; Rogenhofer & Panievsky, 2020).

The Diyanet, has significantly expanded its media presence since 2010, operating television and radio channels, with an escalating expenditure on publicity. The organization and its leader Erbas also have an active presence and significant following on social media platforms such as YouTube, Twitter, and Facebook (Yilmaz & Albayrak, 2022). This heightened outreach has effectively filled the void created by the purge of groups like the Gulen movement and critical academic voices, both in the digital sphere and beyond (Yilmaz & Albayrak, 2022; Andi et al., 2020; Parkinson et al., 2014).

The close alliance between the Diyanet and the AKP has seen the past two heads of the organization employing faith-based justifications to support Erdogan’s moral campaign against perceived ‘internal’ and ‘external’ adversaries (Andi et al., 2020; Parkinson, et al., 2014). The increasingly stringent control over the digital sphere is justified by Diyanet with Islamic framing and justification. Thus, the emotionally charged narratives instrumentalized by the AKP (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018) have become directly intertwined with the religious directives and stances of the Diyanet (Yilmaz & Albayrak, 2022; Yilmaz et al., 2021a; Rogenhofer & Panievsky, 2020). Diyanet extends its influence not only within Turkish territories but also among the Turkish diaspora, functioning as an advisor for the AKP in diaspora communities. Consequently, through the transnational reach of the religious organization, the AKP’s authoritarian agenda has transcended national borders.

The Diyanet’s Moral Stance Against Social Media

Under the Presidential system, the President of Diyanet, appointed by Erdogan, wields significant influence as the centralized religious authority in Turkey and globally through its network of mosques (Danforth, 2020). Former President of Diyanet, Mehmet Gormez, openly criticized social media, attributing various societal harms to it. In 2016, Diyanet organized a forum titled “Social Media and the Family in the Context of Privacy,” aligning with the government’s calls for social media control. The forum aimed to emphasize traditional family values and discuss the perceived negative impact of social media on privacy and marriage. Gormez advocated for Diyanet to create a social media catechism, reinforcing the ideological harmony between Diyanet and Erdogan’s regime, consolidating authoritarianism both online and offline (Yilmaz & Albayrak, 2022; Yilmaz et al., 2021a; Danforth, 2020).

Diyanet has also actively engaged in efforts to exert stronger control over social media by publishing a booklet titled “Social Media Ethics,” using Islam as a guiding principle for this framework (Duvar, 2021). In the preface he personally authored, top imam Ali Erbas cautioned readers about the omnipotent governance of God extending to social media activities under Islamic law. Additionally, believers were alerted to the perils of “fake news” and urged to create a “world of truth” (Duvar, 2021; Turkish Minute, 2021).

Moreover, Diyanet’s Friday sermons have increasingly addressed themes related to social media, technology, and morality. On January 17, 2020, a sermon titled ‘Technology Addiction and Social Media Ethics’ was circulated by Diyanet, cautioning people about the dangers of the Internet violating the five fundamental values of Islam. It highlighted that the indiscriminate use of technology poses threats to human health, causes financial losses, erodes human dignity through unethical behaviors, undermines human faith with radical ideologies, and impairs cognitive abilities (Diyanet, 2020).

The Role of Islamic Scholars in Legitimizing the AKP Digital Authoritarian Agenda

Within academia, several pro-AKP Islamic scholars have aligned themselves with the government’s digital authoritarian agenda. Figures like Nihat Hatipoglu and Hayrettin Karaman (Kenes, 2018), associated with the AKP, believe that social media spreads misinformation targeting Turkish national interests and could mislead youth. Since 2016, Karaman, who has advised Erdogan on creating a more Islamist – and less tolerant – society has frequently accused social media of being used by “anti-Turkey” groups to spread lies (Yeni Safak, 2013). He highlights the dangers of false information being spread on these platforms, claiming that there’s no room for rebuttal (Yeni Safak, 2021). A poem written by Karaman supports AKP’s stance on social media, advocating for increased control to cultivate a “pious youth” and suppress critical remarks aimed at the AKP (Yeni Safak, 2020).

Nihat Hatipoglu, a prominent pro-AKP Turkish academic and theologian, has utilized his ATV show to issue fatwas, cautioning viewers about the potential sins associated with social media usage. For instance, he warns that engaging with “questionable” individuals on these platforms can lead to false rumors and sin, and accountability will come in the afterlife (Akyol, 2016). His messaging is potent in digital governance because it moves beyond conventional vices like alcohol or adultery and highlights the significance of sins associated with online behaviors and consumption, such as false testimonies and envy.

Furthermore, both Karaman and Hatipoglu are openly critical of “Western” media and social platforms, and advocate for Islamic content. Together, they represent a prevalent viewpoint supporting AKP discourse that emphasizes caution and adherence to Islamic principles while engaging with digital platforms.

Digital Authoritarian Measures Against the LQBTQ+ Community

The intersection of religion, politics, and social media in Turkey has also created a complex landscape where certain communities, particularly LGBTQ+ groups, have faced significant challenges. Religious leaders and government officials have used their platforms to vilify LGBTQ+ activists and communities, contributing to a hostile environment for these individuals (Greenhalgh, 2020).

This hostility has significantly deepened with anti-LQBTQ+ messaging from Turkish leadership. President Erdogan’s agenda has consistently focused on promoting a “pious youth” while openly expressing disapproval of atheists and LGBTQ+ identities as threats to societal and religious values (Gall, 2018). His party has employed rhetoric targeting Western values and certain youth groups, framing them as corruptive influences on Turkey’s future.

Although identifying as LGBTQ+ is not illegal in Turkey, the government has taken steps to restrict LGBTQ+ content and activism online (Woodward, 2019). This included censoring LGBTQ+ content on platforms like TikTok and imposing restrictions on advertising across social media channels to suppress opposition groups (Euronews, 2021).

Moreover, there have been instances of attempts to ban LGBTQ+ content, such as Netflix being prohibited from airing a movie with an LGBTQ+ storyline, and the mobilization of hashtags advocating for bans on LGBTQ+ content such as #LGBTfilmgunleriyasaklansin (#BanLGBTFilmDays); #İstiklalimizeKaraLeke (#StainOnOurIndependence) (Banka, 2020; Sari, 2018). These actions reflect the charged anti-LGBTQ+ sentiment prevalent in certain spheres of Turkish society and the state’s efforts to curtail LGBTQ+ visibility in the media and online discourse.

Government efforts at controlling and silencing LGBTQ+ members have clear repercussions in society. For example, influencing the demonization of LGBTQ+ youth during the Bogazici University protests in 2021 and subsequent limitations on LGBTQ+ content across various platforms (Kucukgocmen, 2021; Woodward, 2019; Euronews, 2021).

AKP’s Digital Network Control, Restrictions, and Bans

The Gezi Park protests in 2013 marked a turning point for the Turkish government’s efforts at controlling the digital landscape. During this period, civil society groups and activists turned to social media to coordinate the protests, prompting the government to denounce Twitter as a significant threat to society. Internet governance subsequently tightened, and internet blackouts were orchestrated by the newly established Telecommunication Technologies Authority (BTK) under government directives. While the government justified these internet restrictions as anti-terrorism measures, their political motives were evident. 

The pinnacle of Turkish government internet shutdowns occurred between 2015 and 2017. This was facilitated by Internet Law No. 5651, introduced in 2007, permitting website blocking on multiple grounds, including for terrorism-related content. The broadened definition of “terrorism” that had been enacted by the Erdogan regime was manipulated to silence dissenting voices and serve the interests of the ruling power. Gradually, the scope of a “terrorist” in Turkey expanded to encompass peaceful protesters from events like the Gezi Park protests, anti-government activists labelled as “FETOists,” and students involved in activism during Istanbul’s Bogazici University events in 2021 (Wilks, 2021; Yesil et al., 2017).

Internet Law 5651 thus became a tool to marginalize digital spaces for non-AKP or critical groups, using the power of the TIB (Telecommunication and Information Technology Authority) and imposing additional responsibilities on hosting services and intermediaries. The 2014 amendment to the Law on State Intelligence Services granted the National Intelligence Service (MIT) authority to gather, record, and analyze public and private data, compelling intermediaries to comply with MIT’s requests under the threat of incarceration (Human Rights Watch, 2014).

The eastern regions of Turkey, particularly areas with strong Kurdish resistance, bore the brunt of internet and cellular shutdowns during critical events like the 2015 Suruc suicide bombing and the 2016 Ataturk Airport bombing. These shutdowns were often localized and imposed during high-risk security incidents. The government’s increasingly authoritarian approach leveraged digital anti-terrorism laws to target marginalized groups, particularly the Kurds. It is noteworthy that most shutdowns occurred in the southeast, where political activities are more prevalent. For instance, the 2016 closure of internet and landlines in 11 cities following the arrests of Diyarbakir’s mayor and co-mayor sparked protests and incurred significant economic costs for Turkey (Yackley, 2016).

Although internet shutdowns decreased from six in 2016 to one in 2020, the financial toll remains substantial, reaching $51 million in 2020 (Buchholz, 2021). While the precise role of religious justification and religious organizations in legitimizing comprehensive network governance remains unclear, their collaboration remains crucial to the government. It also plays a significant role in legitimizing various forms of digital governance and actions taken by the government – such as these internet shutdowns – that undermine democratic and digital freedom principles.

Digital Oppression Through the ‘Safe Use of the Internet’ Campaign

The 2011 “Safe Use of the Internet” campaign initiated by the Telecommunication Technologies Authority (BTK) promoted a Turkish-built filter called the ‘family filter.’ However, despite its name, the campaign primarily focused on regulating internet access in public spaces like cafes and libraries, rather than imposing ‘safe’ restrictions within domestic settings. The campaign purported to protect children from accessing non-age-appropriate content by blocking adult websites, both foreign and domestic. Interestingly, this campaign didn’t enforce mandatory installation of the ‘family filter’ at home, seemingly placing the responsibility on parents to supervise their children’s internet use. Discussions about children’s privacy were also notably absent from the campaign despite the stated objective (Hurriyet Daily News, 2014; Brunwasser, 2011).

Over time, concerns have emerged regarding the broader implications of the ‘family filter.’ Many speculate that this initiative, while supposedly aimed at blocking pornographic content, also serves as a tool for the state to censor critical voices within the digital space (Yesil et al., 2017). The criteria for blacklisting websites remain ambiguous, granting significant power to state authorities. By 2017, approximately 1.5 million websites had been blocked, particularly in public areas like cafes. The BTK has concerningly refrained from disclosing the list of websites it restricts (Yesil et al., 2017). The lack of transparency has contributed to concerns about digital oppression and censorship orchestrated by the AKP through the guise of protecting children and youth online. 

AKP’s Digital Authoritarianism: Sub-Network, Website and Platform Level

The Internet Law (No. 5651) described above has facilitated the monitoring and blocking of webpages and websites in Turkey. Despite amendments, the law remains problematic due to its arbitrary and vague provisions. Internet governance institutions hold broad discretion in determining acceptable versus unacceptable content. According to Freedom House’s latest report, internet freedoms in Turkey have been increasingly restricted in recent years (Freedom House, 2021). 

In 2006, prior to the introduction of the Internet Law, only four websites were blocked in Turkey. However, by 2008, this number had escalated to 1,014, reaching a staggering 27,812 in 2015. Government decisions using this law lack transparency and accountability, as blocking orders, often issued by the BTK, lack clear justifications, leaving website owners with limited recourse for appeal. Suspicion and precautionary measures are sometimes the sole reasons cited for blocking a website.

Following the 2016 coup attempt in Turkey, websites related to the Gulen movement, Gezi Protests, corruption allegations, and terrorism charges were blocked or taken down (Ergun, 2018). Government actions also targeted websites advocating opposition, Kurdish rights, LGBTQ+ rights, and pornography. Several news outlets, including Zaman and Today’s Zaman, were shut down in 2016. Websites promoting atheism, such as the Atheism Association, were also blocked under Article 216 of the Turkish Penal Law, which prohibits actions inciting hatred or enmity among people (Hurriyet Daily News, 2015).

Digital Control at the Proxy or Corporation Level

The politicization and framing of the July 2016 events by Erdogan and the AKP as an assault on Turkish sovereignty triggered severe digital restrictions. The disbandment of the TIB over alleged pro-Gulenist ties led to the transfer of its powers to the Information and Communication Technologies Authority (BTK). Consequently, approximately 150 online and traditional media outlets were completely shut down, resulting in the loss of jobs for 2,700 Turkish journalists (Kocer & Bozdag, 2020). The legal framework governing digital spaces in Turkey has been wielded against opposition and civil society voices while favoring AKP and pro-AKP groups.

Social media intermediaries operating in Turkey have faced various restrictions. According to the Internet Law, they are required to comply with the Turkish government’s requests or face bans. During a period of heightened discontent against the AKP in 2014, the TIB pressured Twitter, YouTube, and Facebook to remove critical content damaging to the ruling party. While Facebook swiftly complied, Twitter and YouTube faced national blockades for several hours before eventually complying with the requests (Yesil et al., 2017). In 2016, Google also adhered to thousands of content removal requests from the Turkish state (Yesil et al., 2017).

The 2019 Transparency Reports from Twitter and Facebook shed light on Turkey’s extensive governmental demands for information and content removals. Twitter was issued with 350 information requests involving 596 accounts, and 6,073 removal requests affecting 8,993 accounts. The report indicated a compliance rate of 5 percent. Turkey was number one on the list for the highest number of legal demands for removals. Meanwhile, Facebook received 2,060 legal requests and 2,537 user information requests, complying with 73 percent of these requests (Freedom House, 2021).

Adding to this overall picture of digital surveillance and control, Turkey has imposed bans on approximately 450,000 domains, 140,000 URLs, and 42,000 tweets (Timuçin, 2021). IFOD announced on August 7, 2024, that by the end of the first quarter of that year, a total of 1,043,312 websites and domain names had been blocked in Turkey, based on 892,951 decisions from 833 different institutions and courts. The organization highlighted that this number could rise as more domain names are identified (IFOD, 2024). Furthermore, in 2017, Wikipedia was banned in Turkey following a ruling from Ankara’s first Criminal Court, linking certain articles to terror organizations. The court mandated edits to the articles before allowing the website to resume being accessible in the country in 2020 (Hurriyet Daily News, 2020; The Guardian, 2017).

The Turkish government’s manipulation of news and entertainment content distribution is a well-documented strategy, implemented through its control over media outlets both locally and internationally. Beyond influencing social media and restricting local websites, additional methods of control are exercised over television, streaming and various over-the-top media services (OTTs). In 2019, the government empowered the Radio and Television Supreme Council (RTUK) to issue licenses and make them mandatory to access content streaming in Turkey (Pearce, 2019; Yerlikaya, 2019).

The Turkish government has also employed various financial penalties, including fines and heavy taxes, to curb critical voices and hinder their independent operations. These tactics have forced many critical media outlets out of business, enabling pro-government entities to acquire their assets. For instance, the pro-government Demiroren Group acquired the Dogan Media Group following high taxes imposed by the government. Anadolu Ajansi (AA), enjoying government support, has significantly increased its backing for the AKP government by 545 percent since 2002, with 91.1 percent of its Twitter coverage found to favor the government. The government’s informal means of bolstering pro-government content include shutting down anti-government entities and transferring or selling their outlets or platforms to pro-government supporters, establishing a clientelist relationship between the state and media (Yilmaz & Bashirov, 2018). For example, during the state of emergency in 2016, the Gulen-linked Samanyolu Group, Koza Ipek Group, and Feza Publications were seized and redistributed to President Erdogan’s loyalists (Timucin, 2021; BBC News, 2016; Yackley, 2016).

Digital Authoritarianism at the Network-Node or Individual Level

The Turkish government has intensified its crackdown on individual social media and online activities, particularly following the 2016 coup attempt. The Ministry of Interior, for example, reported investigations on over ten thousand individuals for their online engagements, resulting in legal action against over 3,700 and the arrest of more than 1,600 people. Within a two-month span between January and March 2018, over 6,000 social media accounts were probed, leading to legal consequences for over 2,000 individuals. Freedom House’s 2021 assessment further revealed that between 2013 and 2018, the government initiated over 20,000 legal cases against citizens due to their social media activities (Ergun, 2018).

A climate of self-censorship among Turkish internet users has become entrenched. This is owing to multiple actions and crackdowns taken by the government in recent years. Following the coup attempt, for example, academics and civil society voices were targeted by pro-AKP media outlets that alleged their involvement in “terrorism” (GIT North America, 2016). Journalists have faced a diminished space to express dissenting opinions and face being accused of or charged with terrorism under various legal articles, including Article 314/2, related to association with armed organizations, and Article 147 and Article 5, concerning crimes associated with terrorist intent and groups (Sahinkaya, 2021). The restriction of anti-AKP voices has heavily tilted mainstream conversation in favor of pro-AKP narratives, dominating both online and offline domains.

The Turkish government actively suppresses dissent on social media, resorting to threats and arrests against individuals. In a 2014 incident, a Turkish court ordered Facebook to block pages and individuals engaging with content from Charlie Hebdo, a French magazine that published a cartoon insulting Prophet Muhammad (Johnston, 2015). The Director of Communications of the Presidency warned citizens in May 2020 that even liking or sharing a post deemed unacceptable by the government could lead to trouble. Journalists, scholars, opposition figures, and civil society leaders critical of the government are increasingly vulnerable to prosecution.

The AKP’s influence in the digital public sphere is also notable in its internet trolling and online harassment campaigns, which are aimed at shaping narratives in favor of the party and against the opposition. Critics of the AKP, including journalists, academics, and artists, face a culture of “digital lynching and censorship” perpetrated by an army of party-affiliated trolls (Bulut & Yoruk, 2017). Post-2016, this situation has worsened, subjecting critical voices to intensified cyberbullying and making their persecution more challenging (Shearlaw, 2016). Many of these trolls are graduates of pro-AKP Imam Hatip schools and reportedly receive a payment. Successful trolls likely receive additional benefits from pro-AKP networks, including the TRT and Turkcell (Bulut & Yoruk, 2017). In addition to employing trolls, the AKP also uses automated bots to amplify its presence in the digital space, disproportionately projecting their narrative across platforms (Irak & Ozturk, 2018). 

The manipulation of social media platforms across the globe has become a significant concern, and this is particularly the case in Turkey. In 2020, Twitter’s deletion of a substantial number of accounts from China, Russia, and Turkey revealed the extent of propaganda spread by these accounts. Many were focused on supporting President Erdogan, attacking opposition parties, and advocating for undemocratic reforms (Twitter Safety, 2020). The proliferation of fake accounts and bots, and the significant portion of posts originating from these accounts, has skewed the representation of daily Twitter (renamed as X) trends, and consequently affected political discourse.

Disturbingly, instances of online harassment and hate speech targeting individuals based on their political stance or ethnic background have been observed without effective intervention. For instance, Garo Paylan, an HDP deputy with Turkish-Armenian heritage, faced online harassment for his political stance during the Azerbaijan-Armenian skirmish in 2020 (Briar, 2020). Meanwhile, controversial statements, such as Ibrahim Karagul’s suggestion of ‘accidentally’ bombing Armenians, didn’t receive the same scrutiny for hate speech (Barsoumian, 2020). 

Conclusion

The merging of religion and the state’s digital authoritarian agenda serves as a potent tool for steering public opinion, validating control mechanisms, and fortifying the government’s authority. It exemplifies how the discourse of upholding Islamic values and societal morality can be strategically harnessed to garner support for stringent digital control measures, influencing public perception and behavior within the digital landscape. 

This article identifies numerous ways the AKP and its leader, administer their authority over the digital realm in Turkey. Voices of dissent and opposition are silenced through the enactment of a range of legislative and strategic measures, such as Internet Law No.5651, the “Safe Use of the Internet” campaign, and online trolling and harassment practices that directly target critics of the government. Additionally, the AKP make considerable attempts at controlling the online content its citizenry can or want to access; the discussion highlights the internet lockdowns, blacklisting of websites, and issuing warnings to Turkish citizens of the consequences of engaging with certain (oppositional) content.

The above measures are supported and legitimized by the AKP and Erdogan’s religious discourse, and through its network of pro-AKP religious authorities including the Diyanet, Islamic scholars and preachers. By aligning digital control measures with Islamic values and societal morality, the government can justify its actions as essential for preserving the ethical fabric of society. This moral grounding lends an air of legitimacy and righteousness to measures that might otherwise be viewed as intrusive or oppressive.

The fusion of religious rhetoric with digital governance acts as a deterrent to dissent. The government discourages dissenting voices by associating opposition to these measures with a departure from religious principles, fostering a climate of self-censorship and compliance within the digital sphere.

Religious institutions, particularly Diyanet, are heavily influential in conversations about social media ethics and endorsing greater control over digital spaces, leading to an Islamization of digital spaces. Strict limitations on blasphemy and criticism of Islamic beliefs curtail freedom of expression online.

Ultimately, the combination of information and content control, legal measures, religious influence, and online manipulation creates a challenging scenario for digital governance in Turkey. These various elements work together to shape narratives, control dissent, create a pervasive environment of censorship and self-censorship, and restrict freedoms in the digital realm, impacting the country’s broader socio-political landscape.

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