Europe’s migration politics in 2026 reveal a growing convergence between radical-right populism and mainstream migration governance. In this scholarly review, Shaza Khalid and Maryam Hameed examine how grievances over housing, living costs, education, and public services are increasingly reframed through migration-related narratives—a process they conceptualize as the “migrantization of grievance.” Analyzing the EU Pact on Migration and Asylum, return hubs, reception conditions, and the October 2026 protest wave, the authors argue that populist influence extends beyond electoral success into institutional policymaking. Through a structural, postcolonial perspective, they further connect Europe’s contemporary border externalization policies to historical interventions and asymmetrical relationships with the Global South, highlighting the tensions between migration control, democratic accountability, and fundamental rights.
By Shaza Khalid & Maryam Hameed*
This review examines the intersection of migration politics in Europe in 2026, focusing on populist radical-right agendas, mainstream policy convergence and Europe’s external relations. It argues that migration functions more as a screen onto which housing, cost-of-living and generational grievances are projected than as the root cause of the current unrest.
The review considers three developments: the Pact on Migration and Asylum and the Returns Regulation, which institutionalize deterrence, speed up returns and establish offshore ‘return hubs’; reception conditions for migrants, which remain far from uniform; and the protest wave that spread across France, Italy, Spain and beyond in October 2026. It situates these developments within a structural, postcolonial interpretation of Europe’s role in the Global South, linking the 2011 intervention in Libya, instability in the Sahel and the outsourcing of border control to Tunisia, Libya and Mauritania. It shows that setting the agenda, rather than holding office, is key to a populist movement’s success, and identifies gaps in research on populism and migration governance.
From Paris to Marseille, from Milan to Madrid, from Lisbon to Tirana, demonstrations spread in the second half of October 2026 across Europe. 1,314 people were arrested in nationwide protests in France just on Saturday, October 24, 2026, over the cost of living and the education system (CBS News/AP, 2026). Italy deployed more soldiers in Milan after looting and clashes, and the Italian government announced harsher punishments for minors (Barry & Associated Press, 2026). These scenes were quickly turned into an immigration story and Al Jazeera (2026) reported that “violence imagery is being used to back anti-immigration claims online, despite the root causes of these.”
This review begins where the gap left by protesters and the public discussion about what they mean lies. Insecurity is so diffuse that it can be filled with a ready-made explanation, and this is what populist actors do. Populism studies have long demonstrated that radical-right parties do well when they offer a ready-made explanation for diffuse insecurity (Mudde, 2007). The present moment implies another step: that unrelated grievances are being narrated in the language of migration, not only by populists but by growing numbers of mainstream governments.
The article proceeds in three steps. First, it examines the agenda of the radical right and how mainstream parties have embraced it. Second, it looks at the new policy design from 2026 and the reception conditions it promises and provides. Third, it raises questions that the prevailing discussion neglects: the historical and current position of Europe in the political economies from which many migrants originate. The argument is structural and does not attribute any instability in other parts of the world to any one European policy. It is also deliberately conceptual, inviting conceptual reflection as well as empirical material.
Populism, Civilizationism, and the Migrantization of Grievance
The populist radical right is a combination of nativism, authoritarianism and populism, in which “the people” are pitted against “elites” and “culturally threatening outsiders” (Mudde, 2007). Much of the modern right in Europe views this opposition in terms of civilizations, not just ethnic ones, and sees itself as a Christian or liberal Europe against Islam, as Brubaker (2017) notes. This is why the hostility to migrants can be supplemented with the claims to protect women’s rights, secularism or “European values.”
This review suggests that a similar process can be called migrantization of grievance. Housing shortages, stagnant living standards and pressure on public services are real and politically potent. When political entrepreneurs blame them on migrants, they are expressed in terms of membership, border control and issues that can be “solved” by visible state action. After that, mainstream parties use that translation to regain the voters, which in turn gives it respectability. Hans Kundnani has pointed to the influence of far-right ideas on identity, immigration and Islam, with the center-right becoming more like the far right (Ridgwell, 2024). This creates a vicious circle where populist agenda-setting outpaces populist office-holding.
Far-Right Objectives and Mainstream Convergence
This kind of agenda has strong grassroots support. The Alternative for Germany (AfD) achieved its highest result in Ipsos polling up to that point, at 28 percent in August 2026, while other polls in October showed the same result (International News and Views, 2026). In early 2026, France’s National Rally (RN) was reported to be getting more than 30 percent of the vote, and a French restriction on migration coincided with a surge in the far-right vote share, with housing problems and public service stress being key factors in the government’s thinking (Vision of Humanity, 2026). These are poll numbers, not election results, so the volatility of these numbers needs to be recognized.
The content of the agenda is not limited to restrictions. The AfD advocates “remigration” and was deemed an extremist organization by Germany’s domestic intelligence agency (The Conversation, 2026b). In Italy, a citizens’ initiative called “Remigration and Reconquest” garnered more than 50,000 signatures to initiate a discussion in parliament, including incentives for some migrants to leave and expanded deportation policies (Newsweek, 2026). The common thread is that people who are already residents, including second-generation citizens, are potentially removable, rather than controls being limited to who can enter.
Yet convergence is uneven. There is disagreement about Russia and Ukraine within the far right, but there is agreement on migration (Ridgwell, 2024), making migration a unique bridging issue for far-right parties. There is a spectrum of interventions, from restrictive policies to cordons sanitaires, with mixed outcomes. The case for studying convergence rather than party competition is that the policy shifts likely to have the greatest impact in 2026 come from institutions where the radical right does not govern.
The 2026 Policy Architecture: The Pact, Returns, and Externalisation
On June 12, 2026, the Pact on Migration and Asylum, comprising nine regulations and one directive designed to reform the Common European Asylum System (CEAS), entered into force across the EU (Consilium, 2026a; Eurodiaconia, 2026). Its declared objectives are “orderly” arrivals, “uniform” procedures, and a “fair balance” of solidarity and responsibility. Backers cite the real benefits: applicants now have access to free legal advice, and adults can work after 6 months instead of 9 (Eurodiaconia, 2026; Human Rights Watch, 2026a). Critics have replied that the same instruments can be used by states to block access to asylum procedures in vague cases of “mass influx” or “instrumentalization” of migration by third countries, and that states can “accomplish” their solidarity obligations by paying for asylum rather than accepting people (HRW, 2026a: 19).
The Pact is supported by the Returns Regulation. EU negotiators reached a provisional agreement on a new regulation that imposes strong measures on those without a right to stay and allows member states to designate a return hub in a third country as a final destination for migrants or as a transit point (Consilium, 2026b). Deportees could be dispatched to hubs with which they have no connection, and the Netherlands is looking to coordinate the movement with Denmark, Germany, Greece, and Austria, although it is said that discussions with Uganda have stalled (France 24, 2026). Legal analysis highlights that, under the framework, there is greater scope for longer detention, including for children and families, and that there is greater use of an expanded “safe third country” concept, which was adopted in February 2026 (The Conversation, 2026a). The EU Agency for Fundamental Rights (European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2025) has set out prerequisites without which return hubs could not comply with EU fundamental rights law.
Legal analysis highlights that, under the framework, there is greater scope for longer detentions, including for children and families, and that there is greater use of an expanded “safe third country” concept, which was adopted in February 2026 (The Conversation, 2026a). The EU Agency for Fundamental Rights (European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights [FRA], 2025) has set out prerequisites without which return hubs could not comply with EU fundamental rights law.
The policy justifications are not only political but also administrative: EU institutions have observed that merely 20% of deportation orders are implemented every year (Euronews, 2025). Yet, the design is strikingly similar to a populist idea that migration is, at its core, an issue of deportation. The center has not been taken over by populists, but it has adopted populist means to address real implementation shortcomings.
Reception Conditions and the Politics of “Amenities”
The recast Reception Conditions Directive lays down minimum standards for applicants (Consilium, 2026a; European Commission, n.d.), such as the requirement to provide housing, food, and clothing. The political dimension of the gap between standards and practice is twofold. Shortages and withdrawals are recorded for migrants. The FRA (2026) notes that, in Finland, reception conditions were temporarily reduced for asylum seekers, with their basic needs being met; a High Court judgment in Ireland awarded damages to asylum seekers who were left homeless on their arrival; and an Italian case involved the withdrawal of reception conditions from an asylum seeker and a child who refused a transfer. In the Netherlands, capacity has been under pressure, and there are limited prospects of being reallocated to housing (European Union Agency for Asylum, 2026). There is a description of uneven implementation of the Pact itself, with the legislation largely in place but the capacity for operational implementation limited in some places (Eurodiaconia, 2026). Moreover, there is criticism from advocacy organizations of the approach of placing asylum seekers in large centers away from host communities, which reduces contact with the host population (Jesuit Refugee Service Europe, 2024).
Visible reception arrangements are symbols for host societies. In areas with limited housing, the presence of government-sponsored housing for newcomers may be perceived as a privilege, even when it is of low quality. As AP reported, Spanish protests this autumn were fueled by a housing shortage, driven in part by population growth and the rise of short-term rentals, with the eviction of an 87-year-old tenant becoming a focal point of mobilization (Barry & Associated Press, 2026). The point is not that migrants are to blame, but that scarcity sets the stage for the success of such populist narratives of competition. Reception policy is thus a communication problem rather than a welfare one, and the lack of enough housing for everyone is the common denominator.
The October 2026 Protests: Migration as a Frame, Not a Cause
Students march through the streets of Paris, France, during protests that ended in riots on October 6, 2026.
The “Oct. 17 Movement,” which has just been formed, has been the principal instigator of these demonstrations, along with student federations, grassroots unions, and anti-war coalitions, and the demands include pensions, housing, anti-war activism, education, and corruption (Barry & Associated Press, 2026). Protests against the cost of living and over education in France resulted in 1,314 arrests just on Saturday, October 24, 2026 (CBS News/AP, 2026); another protest, organized by around 50 organizations, including unions, left-wing parties, and student groups, and aimed at a far-right demonstration, was also reported (CBS News/AP, 2026). Police counted 11,000 participants, while organizers claimed 26,000. Mobilization against the radical right is thus part of the protest landscape as well.
Milan is an illustration of the interpretive contest. In addition to foreign nationals, police reported that about 2,000 “very young” protesters took part in the looting, many of whom were “naturalized, second-generation Italians” who had not felt a connection to Italy and lacked prospects, according to a center-left city official (Barry & Associated Press, 2026). In Rome, a right-wing student organization broke away from the violence, and peaceful student demonstrations emphasized that they were not “rioters.” There are several additional factors, such as pension and housing marches in Spain, tenant protests in Lisbon, and student protests in Tirana, as well as a snap election in Spain planned for next month (Barry & Associated Press, 2026).
There are two analytical points to follow. The first is that most of this wave would be misdescribed as an “anti-immigration protest”; treating it as such embodies what this review terms the migrantization of grievance. Second, the actors who benefit from the misdescription are those who profit from making social conflict into border politics. Whether the radical right will gain electoral traction remains an empirical question; early polls offer some indication but should be treated with caution until elections are held.
Europe in the Global South: A Structural and Postcolonial Perspective
Discussions of populism and migration in Europe often begin at the border, overlooking the broader political economy that shapes migration patterns. A structural, postcolonial reading expands this analytical framework without reducing migration to a single cause. Libya provides one of the most extensively studied cases. Scholars link the collapse of Libyan state institutions following the NATO-led intervention in 2011 to the expansion of smuggling routes through the country. They also argue that Europe’s subsequent policy of transferring responsibility for migration control to Libya has facilitated exploitation and abuse (Feldstein, 2018). Pradella and Taghdisi Rad (2017) examine the same sequence of events through theories of imperialism and the global reserve army of labor to analyze migration from Libya. This does not necessarily mean that the intervention itself directly caused displacement—a question that remains contested—but rather that European policy decisions form part of the causal chain, rather than standing outside it.
The Sahel extends the claim. European-funded programs assumed that people migrate from the Sahara to Europe, yet research in the region shows that these initiatives disrupted a centuries-old migration system between Niger and Chad, where people suspected of smuggling were arrested (CORDIS, n.d.). Critics argue that EU migration control in the Mediterranean and military stabilization in the Sahel recreate a colonial asymmetry and geography in which the two regions are kept apart, and that today’s border violence is “a late consequence” of the violent confrontation between Europe and the Global South, as Danewid (2017) puts it.
This trend continues with the current policy package in the form of externalization. In its January 2026 update, the Commission allocated EUR 675 million for the southern neighborhood migration measures for 2025–2027 (borderline-europe, 2026). The 2023 EU-Tunisia memorandum is a template for the arrangements with Egypt and Mauritania (EUobserver, n.d.), and the EU agreed on EUR 210 million with Mauritania in 2024 (European Council on Refugees and Exiles, 2024). Tunisia was added to the EU list of safe countries of origin in February 2026, and in July 2026, a group of 46 organizations called for the suspension of border and migration-control support for the security forces in Tunisia because of violent interceptions and expulsions (HRW, 2026b). But analysts say that these funds go to the security forces of authoritarian allies rather than to local economies, which could address the drivers of migration (Khan, 2024).
The connection to “populism” runs both ways. Both externalization and return hubs enable governments to project control to domestic audiences while removing the violence from sight. Meanwhile, the populist rhetoric of “invasion” relies on forgetting that the policies it demands and the people those policies affect are historically rooted in the same relationships that explain the movement of people. So, no actors are excused from postcolonial analysis; the border is not the start of a chain; it is the end.
Conclusion and Future Research Agenda
This review has suggested that Europe’s migration politics of 2026 can best be understood as an interplay between three processes: agenda-setting by the populist radical right, convergence of policy in the mainstream, and an ongoing “externalization” of migration with the Global South. Migration as the master explanation of the unrest fails to come to terms with the fact that the grievances concerning housing, pensions, education, and corruption are real, and that their migrantization is more to the benefit of political entrepreneurs than protesters.
Four research gaps are identified below.
First, comparative research is needed to examine the effects of restrictionist policies on support for the radical right, drawing on election results rather than polling data.
Second, empirical studies should test the migrantization-of-grievance hypothesis—for instance, by examining how media coverage and parliamentary attention frame demonstrations over housing and the cost of living.
Third, the operational pressures on fundamental rights guarantees should be assessed through systematic monitoring of the Pact’s implementation and the establishment of the first return hubs.
Fourth, postcolonial studies and populism studies need to be brought into dialogue, as each generally treats the other as background context. As with many political movements, however, populism’s power in Europe lies in the questions it forces the mainstream to confront, while the answers offered by populists reveal as much about Europe’s historical entanglements as they do about the continent’s contemporary borders.
(*) Shaza Khalid is affiliated with Universitas Islam Internasional Indonesia (UIII), Depok, West Java, Indonesia (ORCID ID: 0009-0009-7331-0329). Maryam Hameed is a student at the same university (ORCID ID: 0009-0001-7424-0459).
Brubaker, R. (2017). “Between nationalism and civilizationism: The European populist moment in comparative perspective.” Ethnic and Racial Studies, 40(8), 1191–1226. https://doi.org/10.1080/01419870.2017.1294700
CORDIS. (n.d.). International mobility, local economics and European cooperation policies in the central Sahara (MOLECOPS, Project No. 652755). https://cordis.europa.eu/project/id/652755
Danewid, I. (2017). “White innocence in the Black Mediterranean: Hospitality and the erasure of history.” Third World Quarterly, 38(7), 1674–1689. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2017.1331123
Pradella, L., & Taghdisi Rad, S. (2017). “Libya and Europe: Imperialism, crisis and migration.” Third World Quarterly,38(11), 2411–2427. https://doi.org/10.1080/01436597.2017.1350819
Ridgwell, H. (2024, October 2). “Far-right gains in Europe drive debate on migration, Ukraine aid.” Voice of America. https://www.voanews.com/a/far-right-gains-in-europe-drive-debate-on-migration-ukraine-aid-/7808290.html
In an in-depth interview with the ECPS ahead of the November 3 US midterm elections, Professor Lester Spence of Johns Hopkins University argues that the fate of American democracy is inseparable from Black political rights: “In the United States, democracy goes as Black people go.” Examining Trumpism, racialized political hierarchies, democratic backsliding, and the weakening of the Voting Rights Act, Professor Spence emphasizes that restrictions on Black political participation undermine democracy more broadly. Drawing on Reconstruction, the Civil Rights Movement, and contemporary Black activism, he explores the relationship between racial domination and political economy while highlighting the democratic potential of cross-racial solidarity, progressive coalitions, and institutional transformation beyond electoral representation to secure substantive empowerment for working-class communities.
As the United States approaches the November 3, 2026, midterm elections, political competition is increasingly shaped by Trumpism, racial polarization, economic inequality, and conflicts over voting rights and democratic institutions. Beyond the struggle for congressional control, these developments raise fundamental questions about racialized political power, the resilience of American democracy, and the prospects for substantive Black political empowerment. At the heart of these debates lies a crucial question: Can American democracy remain viable when the political rights of historically marginalized communities are increasingly contested?
In an in-depth interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Lester Spence, Professor of Political Science and Africana Studies at Johns Hopkins University, offers a historically grounded analysis of the relationship between racial domination, political economy, and democratic backsliding. His central argument is captured in a striking formulation: “In the United States, democracy goes as Black people go.” For Professor Spence, the trajectory of American democracy cannot be understood independently of the political struggles, institutional protections, and democratic participation of Black Americans.
Drawing on the historical experiences of Reconstruction, Jim Crow, the Civil Rights Movement, and contemporary struggles over voting rights, Professor Spence argues that racial exclusion has consequences extending far beyond its immediate targets. As he emphasizes, “It’s not simply that democratic harms inflicted on Black people affect only Black people.” Rather, “for historical reasons, Black people are at the center.” Consequently, “what happens to Black people ultimately ends up hurting everybody.”
This interpretation challenges approaches that treat racial inequality as peripheral to democratic decline. Professor Spence insists that “racial politics are essential to understanding democratic backsliding in the United States,” identifying two competing historical traditions: one that expands democratic participation and another that constrains political representation and governmental responsiveness. He further observes that “the anti-democratizing or de-democratizing tendency has always been associated with forces that have practiced white supremacy.”
Against this historical background, the contemporary weakening of voting rights acquires broader institutional significance. Discussing the Voting Rights Act, Professor Spence warns: “When you weaken or effectively neutralize the Voting Rights Act, you’re not just undermining its protections for Black people; you’re essentially undermining those protections for everybody.” He similarly anticipates that, without electoral reform, “Black political representation” will decline dramatically, particularly in the American South.
Yet Professor Spence’s analysis extends beyond democratic erosion to the possibilities of political renewal. Reflecting on Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street, and emerging progressive coalitions, he argues that “political movements themselves create openings, and institutions then emerge to fill those gaps.” Ultimately, he maintains, meaningful democratic transformation requires more than electoral victories: “It’s not just about electing people; it’s about creating a new model” capable of protecting political participation while generating progressive change and substantive material benefits for working-class communities.
Here is our interview with Professor Lester Spence, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Professor Spence, thank you for joining us. Let me begin with Trumpism’s enduring appeal and its relationship to America’s historical racial hierarchies. How should we understand the intersection of racial resentment, economic insecurity, and anti-establishment populism in sustaining Trumpism? Does it represent a distinctive form of racialized authoritarian populism, or does it reproduce longstanding structures of American racial politics under more confrontational leadership?
Professor Lester Spence: First, that’s a really good question, and answering it gives me an opportunity to talk about this moment with an eye toward helping folks understand political dynamics and political change over time, along with political economy: how the market works, how the economy works, how changes in the economy are both produced by politics and, in turn, produce politics, and how racial dynamics play a role in all that.
To understand Trumpism in the short durée, we have to go back to the economic crises that wracked the country and the world in approximately 2008. In the United States, what this meant for a number of folks, including myself, was that our mortgages went underwater. A number of us had our homes taken away from us, particularly at the middle- and upper-income levels. At the working-class level, folks who didn’t own their homes or didn’t have the capacity to own them, and therefore rented, were placed in even more precarious circumstances because many of them lost their jobs. They didn’t have health benefits, and there were a range of other crises.
In addition to these real crises, such as me being in danger of losing my home or working-class folks dealing with difficult material circumstances, there were psychological challenges that people faced as the economy tanked. They didn’t necessarily lose money, but they thought they would. Or maybe they indirectly lost money through stocks, whatever the hell.
Anyway, it’s in this moment that we see the election of Barack Obama. Obama, as the first Black president of the United States, actually had a lot more room to navigate than I think he and others thought. That is to say, those of us who study this academically, serve as political analysts, work in campaigns, and even regular folks never thought that the United States would elect an African American president. I just didn’t think it would happen.
The fact that he’d already overcome that hurdle created more space for him to navigate. The nature of the economic crisis itself also raised questions, for the first time in a broad sense, about how capitalism in the United States functioned. Obama had a lot of latitude to discipline capital, and he generally chose not to.
The Tea Party Created the Conditions for Trump’s Rise
Now, fast-forward to the 2010 election cycle. He ended up losing Congress, while a number of states fell to the GOP. At this moment, we see the rise of what eventually becomes the MAGA movement. It wasn’t called that then. It was called the Tea Party movement.
The Tea Party movement ends up transforming the Republican Party, moving it sharply toward the right. The Republican Party already had racist tendencies. The movement metastasizes these tendencies and creates space for a certain type of capital to gradually dominate the concentrated support for the GOP. All of that, long story short, creates the conditions in which Trump can run as an outsider and win.
What’s similar between Trump and previous iterations of the Republican Party is this racist tendency, which became prominent in the Republican Party as early as the late 1960s and early 1970s. It becomes even more prominent with the election of Ronald Reagan. Reagan runs on implicit racist campaign appeals, creating the space that, by the mid-1980s, makes it possible for a racist populist like Pat Buchanan to run for president.
He does not win, but he helps create a space within the GOP for it to basically become, at best, a white ethnic nationalist party. That’s what it ends up becoming under Trump, who takes this tendency, pushes it further, and transforms it into something that retains elements of the previous era but can also be understood as something new. And that’s one part of it. If you have questions about any of this, just loop back to me.
Now, if we think about the economy over the period I’ve discussed, we transition from the 1960s and 1970s, when we’re an industrial economy dominated by manufacturing, to one increasingly dominated by the FIRE (Finance, Insurance, and Real Estate) sector. By the 1980s and 1990s, the FIRE sector dominates, and this is when the neoliberal turn consolidates.
Corruption Is a Governing Principle for Trump
But what we’re in now is a different economy, even from those earlier economies. It’s deeply post-industrial, deeply connected to platforms and the internet, and it’s here that we see the rise of not just billionaires but, in Elon Musk, the first trillionaire.
These transformations of the economy end up feeding back into politics. Around the time Obama is running, then Clinton is running, and then Biden is running, this growing tech capital sector is splitting its support. They’re splitting their support the way prior sectors did—not all, but some—because they’re thinking, okay, no matter what, we want to hedge our bets. We want to get benefits if the Republican Party wins, and we want to get benefits if the Democratic Party wins. So, we’re kind of split.
But what you see in the United States is that, increasingly, even before Trump gets elected, but definitely afterward, and then with his second election, tech capital moves toward him.
This is another important dynamic: Trump actually uses the state to compel tech to support him because, unlike previous parties and elected officials of both parties, corruption is a governing principle for Trump. Corruption wasn’t a governing principle for prior iterations.
So, those are some of the things that make Trumpism different. I don’t think I covered everything, and I was perhaps a bit more confusing than I’d like to be. So, if you have any questions about any of that, just holler at me.
Race Is a Political Construction with Social Implications
Black Lives Matter protesters march around Marion Square during an organized demonstration in Charleston, South Carolina, USA, on July 13, 2016. Photo: Gerald T. Coli / Dreamstime.
Your scholarship challenges explanations that separate racial hierarchy from political economy. How should we interpret the relationship between white racial identity, perceived status loss, and material interests in contemporary Republican electoral behavior? To what extent can economic grievances be analytically distinguished from racial resentment when explaining support for Trump and the contemporary far right?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. When I was younger, an undergraduate in the late 1980s and early 1990s, the common sense about racial difference was changing. At the time, when I was starting school, people still thought—and were still taught in universities—that race was a real physiological or biological thing. By the time I was in graduate school, the common sense had changed, and we recognized that race was a social construction with political implications. The way I think about race is as a political construction with social implications.
It’s a political construction inasmuch as states and state bureaucracies play an essential role in constructing racial difference. They do so to create a social, economic, and political hierarchy. It’s a political hierarchy inasmuch as populations deemed non-white, and Black populations specifically, are placed at the bottom. Even when Black populations and other non-white populations are citizens, they are deemed unworthy of the rights accorded to white citizens. That puts them in a particular category.
Socially speaking, they’re at the bottom. That means there is a range of social rights that society accords—sometimes, when philosophers and political theorists talk about these rights, they refer to things like dignity—that non-white populations aren’t accorded. Economically, that means they’re placed at the bottom of the labor hierarchy. Even when non-white populations own businesses and the like, they’re still placed at the bottom of that hierarchy.
Racial Hierarchies Provide Political, Social, and Economic Benefits to Whites
Now, that hierarchy itself ends up providing political, social, and economic benefits, both for whites in general and for whites in the middle and near the bottom of their own hierarchy. Those benefits change according to the moment, depending on where we are, where the economy is, and where the political economy is. But the hierarchy is durable. It’s durable.
Now, what do I mean by that? When the South was an authoritarian regime largely shaped by Jim Crow, even as whites were victimized by the agricultural sector that dominated the United States South, they could derive psychological benefits and some limited political benefits from knowing that there was a population below them—a population that didn’t have full citizenship rights and was placed at the bottom of the social hierarchy. This was true even when they were in somewhat similar economic circumstances.
Racial Resentment Makes Whites More Likely to Support Trumpism
As we transition out of Jim Crow, what we see is that political parties are consistently able to wield the reality of racial difference in ways that make a majority of whites believe that when government functions progressively—when it gives folks the resources to be healthy, to keep their heads above water economically, and to protect themselves against capital—it is acting on behalf of non-whites in general and Blacks in particular.
Race is wielded in such a way that, when government attempts to function like that, whites end up resenting government because they believe it is being used on behalf of these populations. To the extent that governments act on behalf of these populations, whites believe that these populations are undeserving of the benefits government accords them.
This, in turn, makes whites skeptical of government interventions in general and, more specifically, of progressive interventions designed to address some combination of racial and class inequality.
Racial resentment plays a role here. Whites who are racially resentful—that is, who are predisposed not just to believe in the racial hierarchy generally, but to believe intensely that this hierarchy exists because non-white populations in general, and Black populations specifically, are culturally dysfunctional and deeply undeserving—are far more likely to believe that government should not be used for progressive ends. This translates into the present moment, making them far more likely to support Trumpism and its racist elements.
Race Is Central to Both the Democratizing and De-Democratizing Tendencies
Black Lives Matter protesters demonstrate against police brutality in Oakland, California, USA. Photo: Dreamstime.
With the Trump administration facing renewed scrutiny over executive authority, immigration enforcement, and the independence of democratic institutions, how should scholars conceptualize the relationship between democratic backsliding and America’s historical structures of racial domination? Are contemporary authoritarian tendencies best understood as a departure from American democratic traditions, or as an intensification of exclusionary practices already embedded within them?
Professor Lester Spence: My answer here will be more straightforward. I believe that American democracy, in simplified terms, can be understood as comprising two traditions. One tradition sustains and extends progressive democratic practices, giving regular people the ability to determine who represents them and to have their interests reflected in progressive government policy. That’s one tendency.
The other tendency seeks to constrain people’s ability to elect representatives who reflect their interests and the government’s ability to respond to those interests. If the first tendency is democratizing, the second is anti-democratizing, de-democratizing, or autocratizing.
Race is central to both tendencies. In the first, for historical reasons, Black populations have played a critical role in defending and extending democratic practices and the functioning of democracy in the United States at the local, state, and federal levels. We can see this before and during the Civil War, throughout Reconstruction, in the Civil Rights Movement, and, to a certain extent, in more recent Black Lives Matter organizing.
The anti-democratizing or de-democratizing tendency has always been associated with forces that have practiced white supremacy. They’ve either practiced it explicitly or supported policies that tend to produce it as a byproduct.
If we look at the political science literature, the study of democratic backsliding in the United States has only recently returned to mainstream political science scholarship. For the longest time, political scientists studying this question focused almost everywhere except the United States. The exceptions included scholars of racial politics and Black studies more broadly. There are a couple of other exceptions, but I’ll leave it there.
What we’re trying to do is push the discipline toward recognizing that racial politics are essential to understanding democratic backsliding in the United States. Trump gives us the complicated benefit of bringing this issue into sharper focus.
Actually, race—and here I’m referring more broadly to the ways in which the state differentiates populations using biological or cultural concepts—is essential to understanding democratic backsliding. In the United States, it’s race. In some places, it’s not race but ethnicity. In others, it’s not ethnicity but religion, and so on.
These distinctions are essential to understanding democratic backsliding and authoritarian turns more broadly, both within nations and across regions. For example, when we think about the European Union or its current and former member states, we can examine how immigration and race have been used to generate support for democratic backsliding.
If we look at elections in South America—or at Israel, where the election was just held—we can see, in state after state, how racial or race-like dynamics are used to explain democratic backsliding.
The Republican Party Should Be Understood as an Ethno-Nationalist Party
In your essay “Make Sure It Includes Everyone,” you expressed skepticism about the institutional foundations of cross-racial progressive coalitions, arguing that organizations capable of sustaining solidarity across cities, suburbs, and rural communities had substantially weakened. Nearly a decade later, have the Trump era and its aftermath further entrenched racialized political divisions, or have new possibilities emerged for building durable solidarities across racial and class boundaries?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. I’d say yes to both. I talked about two tendencies: the democratizing tendency and the de-democratizing tendency. Those tendencies have moved even further apart.
One way to think about this is that if you had conducted a survey maybe 20 years ago, you would have found broad support, across parties and populations, for most of the elements of what we consider a functioning democracy, even among people who express racial resentment. People who are racially resentful might believe that certain populations shouldn’t necessarily be protected by democracy, but they would still express support for broad swaths of what we consider the necessary elements of a functioning democracy.
Now, I don’t think that’s the case anymore. Within the de-democratizing tendency, you have a broad swath of folks who increasingly don’t believe in democratic values. For them, race is being used to reinforce that tendency. Even though that tendency includes non-whites—for example, I’m from Michigan, where the Republican gubernatorial candidate is John James, an African American, and there are other African Americans within the Trump tendency running for office—it’s not quite the same as it was during the Jim Crow era. But even so, that tendency remains disproportionately white, and the Republican Party at this moment should be understood as an ethno-nationalist party. It is a white political party.
Within that dynamic, race is used to bring the coalition together, and the only circumstances in which that coalition accepts people who aren’t white are when those individuals themselves explicitly or implicitly express support for white supremacy. There’s that, and it’s important to note that I’m talking about political parties.
There’s also a geographic component: this tendency is concentrated outside American cities. If we had a map of the United States in front of us and broke it down by county—a geographic area larger than a city but much smaller than a state—we would see that urban counties, those containing major cities, support the Democratic Party regardless of the state, while areas outside them support the Republican Party, again regardless of the state.
There are racial dynamics layered onto this geographic divide. Metropolitan areas tend to be racially heterogeneous, meaning you can find all different types of racial populations. Areas outside metropolitan regions, by contrast, tend to be really white. The de-democratizing tendency is concentrated in those predominantly white areas, where people are working together on behalf of Trump and Trumpist policies.
Within metropolitan areas, on the other hand, you see increasing efforts to develop cross-racial solidarity, at the very least to defeat the Trump tendency, but also to create space for more progressive forms of politics. It’s this dynamic that elects Zohran Mamdani as mayor of New York. It’s this dynamic that elects Brandon Johnson in Chicago. He’s not DSA, but he’s really progressive. It’s also this dynamic that is emerging in Providence, the largest city in Rhode Island, where it looks like the next mayor is going to be a DSA member.
All of these elections are pushing the Democratic Party further to the left, and they require strong interracial solidarity—not just class solidarity among working-class members of different racial populations, but also inter-class solidarity, because a lot of small business owners and people who make a little bit of money are supporting these tendencies as well.
So, you see both increased interracial solidarity on one hand and increased racial homogeneity on the other.
Black Populism Has Greater Potential in Major Cities
Mayor Zohran Mamdani marches up Fifth Avenue during the St. Patrick’s Day Parade in Midtown Manhattan, New York City, USA onMarch 17, 2026. Photo: Dreamstime.
In the same essay, you defined Black populism around the principle that ordinary Black people should have their interests represented in government, while insisting that Black populism must fundamentally be a class project. How would you reformulate that argument in the political circumstances of 2026? Can Black populism offer a democratic counterweight to right-wing populism without reproducing the elitism, personalism, or exclusionary tendencies that populist movements often exhibit?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. The quick answer is that Black populism—and by that, I mean a movement designed from below to increase the capacity of working-class populations to have their needs met, focusing particularly on Black people in this case—has significant potential. Black populations, in general, tend to be more democratic. I also think the potential for Black populism in major cities is greater now than at any other time.
What will prevent it from devolving into personalism is the necessity of electoral processes, particularly at the city and county levels, to put people in office and bring about these policy shifts. The act of running for office and building political majorities, almost by definition, makes it difficult, at least for Black populations, to turn toward the type of charismatic, populist leadership that lacks democratic mechanisms of accountability.
Neoliberal Common Sense Is No Longer the Prevailing One in American Politics
InKnocking the Hustleyou criticized the penetration of neoliberal assumptions into Black political thought and the institutions claiming to represent Black communities. Days before the midterms, to what extent does the Democratic Party remain constrained by the market-oriented political framework you identified? Does its approach to economic inequality, racial justice, and urban governance reveal meaningful ideological transformation, or primarily a repackaging of familiar neoliberal commitments?
Professor Lester Spence: If you read that book—and for your readers, the PDF is available for free—you’ll see that it was written when Black Lives Matter was just beginning, years before Trump was elected, much less elected for a second time. Those Trump elections, along with the growth of Black Lives Matter organizing and, relatedly, Occupy Wall Street organizing, changed the terrain in terms of the common-sense neoliberal approaches that had dominated Black political life and American political life more broadly.
I no longer think that neoliberal common sense is the prevailing common sense. We can see evidence of this in the election of people like Brandon Johnson, Brandon Scott here in Baltimore, and Zohran Mamdani, even though he’s not African American. In addition, Black congressional representatives are moving further and further to the left. They’ve changed the terrain of common sense, so that the types of neoliberal policies I criticized in Knocking the Hustle now face significant opposition when they’re proposed. At the very least, they’re being contested significantly.
Black Political Representation Also Serves as a Firewall Against De-Democratizing Tendencies
You have argued that the growing number of Black elected officials has not necessarily translated into policies that materially improve the lives of working-class Black constituencies. How should we assess this tension in contemporary American politics, particularly in cities governed by Black political leadership? What distinguishes descriptive representation from substantive democratic empowerment, and what forms of institutional accountability might bridge the gap?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. I might not be able to answer it as quickly as you’d like, but what I’ll say is that what I missed was partly a consequence of the circumstances of my birth. I was born in 1969, when the benefits of the Civil Rights Movement were just beginning to take effect. Most important for this conversation was the Voting Rights Act, which significantly increased Black political representation.
Because of the circumstances of my birth and the way we study these questions, we didn’t fully know how to reckon with the historical lack of Black political representation, nor did we know how to reckon with the dismantling of the Voting Rights Act. Let me explain what I mean.
Usually, when we think about the question you just asked, we say, okay, we elected these Black political representatives to serve our interests. We identify those interests and then examine the gap between what our interests are and what our political representatives have advocated for and accomplished. We can trace the size of that gap over time and identify moments when they’re doing a pretty good job and others when they aren’t doing well at all, when there’s a significant gap.
What we didn’t take into account was the presence of a party that was literally trying to bring us as close as possible to the conditions of 1950, when Black people lacked political power. As a result, we failed to fully understand the extent to which Black political representation is not simply about ensuring that Black populations are represented and their needs substantively met. It’s also about serving as a firewall to prevent the worst de-democratizing tendencies from gaining control and making things significantly worse.
I still think it’s really important to figure out what kinds of mechanisms Black populations need to hold Black representatives accountable. In instances where they’re not represented by Black officials, we also need to understand how they can work both on their own behalf and in concert with other populations to get their needs met. But I’m increasingly of the belief that, even as we continue that work, we need to better understand practices designed not so much to give Black people what they need politically, but to protect them by preventing the worst outcomes from occurring.
That’s a really difficult thing to study, but it’s what we’ve largely missed. Again, it’s because I was born at a moment when it seemed as if we’d won. It seemed as though Black people would have a durable ability to elect representatives of their choice, although that ability remained constrained. But we’re not in that moment anymore. Things are going backwards as we speak, and we have to figure out new tools.
We’re Not as Attentive to the Pro-Democratizing Elements of Black Life as We Should Be
Then-California Senator Kamala Harris announced her candidacy for the Democratic presidential nomination in her hometown of Oakland, California, USA. Photo: Dreamstime.
Your critique of respectability politics suggests that emphasizing individual responsibility, entrepreneurial success, and middle-class behavioral norms can obscure structural inequalities within Black communities. How might this framework help explain the appeal of conservative political messaging among some Black voters, particularly younger men? Should such developments be interpreted primarily through gender, class, cultural identity, dissatisfaction with Democratic elites, or changing understandings of political representation?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question, but I’ll actually push back against it. I think it’s a really good question, yet one that also reflects a challenge in studying Black politics, democratization, and de-democratization.
If we look at the 2024 presidential election and acknowledge that, despite the challenges associated with Kamala Harris and the Democratic Party, Harris represented the democratizing tendency while Trump represented the de-democratizing tendency, we see something important.
Two populations gave more support to Kamala Harris and that democratizing tendency than any others. The first was Black women, with approximately 90–92% support. The second was Black men. The gap between Black women and Black men is statistically significant, meaning it’s not due to chance. But that gap is really small, particularly compared with the gap between them and everybody else. If you look at other women—white women, Latino women, and Asian American women—the gap between them and Black women is huge. Similarly, if you look at white men, Latino men, and Asian American men, the gap between them and Black men is enormous. It’s absolutely huge, and it’s statistically significant.
It’s not just Harris; it was also Biden and Obama. This pattern has persisted. People have been talking about the rise of conservative attitudes among Black populations, particularly men, but I actually think that this question shows we’re not as attentive to the pro-democratizing elements of Black life as we should be.
With that said, returning to respectability, I don’t think respectability explains that relatively small gap between Black men and Black women. What probably explains it is a combination of factors. Black men’s economic circumstances are probably the worst among any racial and gender group. What we see among some people is support for Trump simply because they didn’t think Biden spoke sufficiently to their needs.
A second element is that African American populations increasingly include both people born in the United States, whose families have lived here for generations, and people who live in the United States but come from elsewhere. I think that among Black immigrant populations, men are probably more likely to have voted for Trump than for Kamala. But neither of those factors has to do with respectability. I don’t think respectability plays as much of a role in these developments as people think.
When You Weaken the Voting Rights Act, You’re Undermining Protections for Everybody
The Supreme Court’s April 2026 decision inLouisiana v. Callaisnarrowed challenges to racial vote dilution under Section 2 of the Voting Rights Act. How does this ruling fit into America’s history of racial exclusion? Does the distinction between permissible partisan gerrymandering and unlawful racial discrimination enable racial inequalities in political representation to persist under race-neutral justifications?
Professor Lester Spence: The short answer is yes, but I’ll broaden that point. In the United States, even if we narrow democracy to elections and the ability to elect representatives of one’s choice, democracy functions to the extent that the rights of Black people, as Black people, are recognized both in law and in its interpretation.
Going back to the Reconstruction era, if not earlier, we see attempts to protect and extend political possibilities through Black politics, alongside attempts to constrain those same possibilities. Those constraints don’t just affect Black people; they ultimately work to the detriment of democracy more generally.
In the United States, for example, much of the apparatus we have for understanding when democracy is fundamentally broken, particularly in terms of electoral dynamics, is connected to the Voting Rights Act. So, when you weaken or effectively neutralize the Voting Rights Act, you’re not just undermining its protections for Black people; you’re essentially undermining those protections for everybody.
Democracy Goes as Black People Go
Martin Luther King Jr. mural on Broadway, Toledo, Ohio, USA. Photo: David Gaunt | Dreamstime.
The extraordinary wave of mid-decade redistricting ahead of the 2026 midterms has intensified competition over congressional boundaries, with Republican-led states seeking additional advantages and Democratic-led states pursuing countermeasures. How might these developments reshape Black electoral representation, particularly in the South? More fundamentally, when political parties can manipulate district boundaries to protect electoral power, what happens to the democratic principle that voters should choose their representatives rather than representatives effectively choosing their voters?
Professor Lester Spence: Again, what we’re going to see, unless something is done to change the way voting is conducted, is Black political representation dropping like a rock in the South and increasingly elsewhere. More broadly, we’re going to see support for the principle that people should be able to elect representatives of their choice, rather than the other way around, decline just as dramatically.
I cannot emphasize this enough: in the United States, democracy goes as Black people go. One of the challenges for political science as a discipline is to begin to fully understand that what happens to Black people aren’t something that happens somewhere else. It’s not simply that democratic harms inflicted on Black people affect only Black people. Rather, for historical reasons, Black people are at the center. So, what happens to Black people ultimately end up hurting everybody.
Black Voter Turnout, Political Alienation, and the 2026 Midterms
Donald Trump vs Kamala Harris for US President. Photo: Qubix Studio.
Black voters remain a central constituency in the Democratic electoral coalition, yet political representation does not necessarily translate into material improvements in their communities. As the midterms approach, how should we distinguish electoral demobilization rooted in political alienation from genuine ideological realignment? What do contemporary patterns of Black political behavior reveal about the relationship between racial solidarity, class divisions, institutional trust, and perceptions of political efficacy?
Professor Lester Spence: That’s a great question. Going back to the 2024 presidential election, Kamala Harris lost the Electoral College essentially because of Wisconsin, Pennsylvania, and Michigan. Within those states, she lost because she lost Philadelphia, one of Pennsylvania’s two major metropolitan areas; Detroit, the major metropolitan area in Michigan; and Milwaukee, the major metropolitan area in Wisconsin.
In each of those three instances, it wasn’t a matter of Black people voting for Trump; it was a matter of declining Black voter turnout. So, why did Black voter turnout decline? Part of the answer lies in the question of what exactly the party is doing for us.
Given the Trump tendency and the racism at its core, Black voters basically have two choices: they either vote for the Democratic tendency or stay home. That decision to vote or stay home is shaped partly by mobilization, but also by the issues of institutional trust and political efficacy that you raised.
If we look at the extent to which Black populations feel that their interests are being addressed directly, particularly when the party faces a choice between speaking to Black voters and appealing to white moderates, or even white Republican moderates, some Black voters saw the decision to prioritize white Republican moderates over them and concluded, “Well, if it’s going to be like this, I’ll just stay home.”
That’s one plausible explanation, though certainly not the only one, for why Kamala Harris lost. The real challenge was that she had only a few months to run her campaign. That’s really the challenge. But embedded within that are questions of political efficacy, institutional trust, and what the party actually does for Black voters.
Going forward, what we have to do—and what we’re beginning to see with the election of a number of Black progressive candidates and progressive candidates more generally—is built on these successes and develop durable coalitions that place the material needs of Black and working-class populations at the center. We’ll know more next Tuesday. Even given everything, we have greater potential to do that now than perhaps we’ve had in a long time.
Black Lives Matter, Occupy Wall Street, and Durable Political Institutions
In “Make Sure It Includes Everyone,” you questioned whether Black Lives Matter’s mobilization against state violence could develop into durable institutions capable of transforming local politics and the Democratic Party. Looking back from 2026, how would you assess the movement’s achievements and limitations? Has the changing political environment exposed the fragility of protest-centered mobilization, or have new forms of local political power emerged?
Professor Lester Spence: It’s the latter. New forms of local political power have emerged. In Baltimore, I can name the individuals who have been able to essentially flip the City Council as a result of organizing. I can do the same in other cities. I would point to someone like Brandon Johnson, along with a number of people on the Chicago City Council. I’ve mentioned Providence and New York, and we can also look at the Detroit City Council. There are a number of people in office today who wouldn’t be there without the combined influence of Black Lives Matter and Occupy Wall Street organizing.
I think my critique was right, but what I should have done better in that essay was address the potential of organizing over time. Political movements themselves create openings, and institutions then emerge to fill those gaps. DSA, for example, stepped into the space created by Occupy Wall Street and grew not only numerically but also in its ability to run candidates for office and win elections. We see similar developments emerging from the Black Lives Matter tendency.
At the outset, when you’re involved in a movement, it’s difficult to predict what shape those new institutions will take or how they will function. But what we’ve seen, particularly with the emergence of all these progressive and left-wing candidates, is evidence of people building on those movements and creating something durable.
Anti-Communist Attacks May Backfire Rather Than Achieve Political Success at the Ballot Box
Bernie Sanders and Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez at the “Bernie Is Back” political rally in Queensbridge Park, Queens, New York, on October 19, 2019. Photo: Aleksandr Dyskin / Dreamstime.
In your July 2026Counterpublic Papers, you described growing state violence, the targeting of Antifa, and hostility toward democratic socialism as elements of a new Red Scare combining white supremacy and anti-communism. How does this reflect America’s history of political repression? To what extent do anti-socialist narratives restrict legitimate political participation, including within the Democratic Party itself?
Professor Lester Spence: I want to give a shout-out to Charisse Burden-Stelly. More than almost anybody else, she’s been writing about the connections between Black politics, racial politics, communism, and anti-communism. That Counterpublic Paper relied in part on some of her work.
What’s happened in this moment, although it hasn’t been particularly effective, is that people have used the anti-communist label to tar just about anything to the left of the Trump tendency. Historically, that dynamic has been used to delegitimize movements going back to the labor movement, including the Civil Rights and Black Power movements. It’s also been used to delegitimize leaders within Black politics, whether they were integrationists who advocated nonviolence, like Martin Luther King Jr., or held different political positions. And it’s been used to legitimize racist and capitalist domination in American politics.
The challenge, going back to what I mentioned about my age and being born in 1969, is that I’m 57, and I remember when the Soviet Union existed. People today don’t necessarily know what communism and socialism are. Those labels don’t carry the same weight they once did because that political alternative was basically wiped out, with some exceptions. At the very least, in the United States, it was largely erased from our political imagination. So, the use of the anti-communist brush isn’t going to carry the same political weight anymore. In fact, support for socialism among younger voters is higher than at any point since polling on the issue began.
If anything, there’s a risk that this strategy could actually backfire. Again, to point to the same people I’ve been discussing, if you look at the actual governance of somebody like Zohran Mamdani, it doesn’t look anything like what those using the anti-communist or anti-socialist label suggest. It doesn’t resemble what people have been led to expect. People were arguing that immediately after the election, capital would flee New York like nobody’s business. But capital didn’t go anywhere.
People are using these labels rhetorically in ways similar to how they’ve been used in previous eras. They’re also being used politically. Trump controls the state, and he’s been using the FBI and other instruments of state power against radical activists. You can also understand his attacks on the economy as part of that project. But there’s a difference between deploying these attacks and achieving political success at the ballot box. And I just don’t see them being politically successful at the ballot box.
We Have to Prioritize Transforming Elections and State Capacity
And finally, Professor Spence, your scholarship emphasizes the limits of electoral representation without structural change. As Americans prepare to vote on November 3, what would constitute meaningful democratic progress for Black working-class communities beyond partisan electoral victories? How might your conception of Black populism distinguish genuine political empowerment from electoral mobilization without institutional transformation?
Professor Lester Spence: One way to think about this is to return to the weakening of the Voting Rights Act. When Black people first seized political power, they changed the trajectory of the United States through the Reconstruction-era amendments. We see Black people using their political power both to constrain the white Confederacy in the South and to build a new progressive infrastructure. They created the first public schools and began taxing capital.
Fast-forward to the passage of the Voting Rights Act and the creation of the Congressional Black Caucus. Its members were to the left of the Democratic Party and proposed a range of progressive and left-leaning policies deeply connected to labor.
What these two instances demonstrate is that it’s not just about electing people; it’s about creating a new model that protects Black voters and voting rights while expanding the capacity of political power to generate progressive change.
In the current circumstances, with the Voting Rights Act being weakened, this could mean supporting a new Voting Rights Act or something like proportional voting—new voting systems that allow people to vote in different ways, enhancing their ability to act on their own behalf and work with other constituencies.
We have to consider that first. We have to prioritize transforming elections and state capacity because of how virulent, deeply racist, and anti-democratic the Trump tendency is. But beyond that, we need to think not just about changing the electoral system but also about reforming the different components of federal power. That means constraining the executive branch, constraining the judicial branch, and expanding the legislative branch to make it more democratic.
These kinds of reforms help build a constituency that supports them. Once that constituency and political project are established, the project can be linked to working-class policies that not only protect people’s ability to participate in government but also strengthen and further develop their capacity to secure material benefits from government.
In this ECPS interview, Assistant Professor Sofie Blombäck examines the Sweden Democrats’ electoral setback alongside the continuing normalization of ideas long associated with the radical right. She argues that some voters may feel they have already “gotten what they wanted” on migration, even as SD itself remains partly stigmatized. Dr. Blombäck also highlights a darker post-election development: debate over whether Sweden’s newest citizens, particularly Muslim immigrants, are treated as legitimate political actors. “In my personal view, the debate has become quite ugly,” she says. More broadly, she situates the election within a changing party system shaped by normalization, bloc realignment, strategic voting, weakened parliamentary norms, and shifting boundaries of political legitimacy.
Sweden’s 2026 general election has brought into sharp relief a paradox that has been developing for more than a decade: the Sweden Democrats (SD) may lose electoral ground while continuing to shape the ideological and policy environment in which other parties compete. In this interview, Assistant Professor Sofie Blombäck, Senior Lecturer in Political Science at Mid Sweden University, examines this paradox through the lenses of radical-right normalization, party-system realignment, political stigma, representative democracy, and the changing relationship between voters and political elites. Her analysis places particular emphasis on the extent to which ideas associated with SD have become embedded in mainstream political competition even as the party itself continues to carry a degree of stigma.
Dr. Blombäck argues that some voters who previously turned to SD because they wanted tougher migration policies may now feel that “they have now gotten what they wanted,” since the current policy direction has been “heavily influenced by the Sweden Democrats.” In her view, this helps explain how an electoral setback can coexist with deeper ideological influence: restrictive migration policies have become sufficiently entrenched that voters may no longer need to support SD itself in order to secure them. At the same time, she stresses that normalization remains incomplete. Although “the cordon sanitaire is gone,” and the stigma surrounding SD “is not as universal as it was four years ago,” the party is “not quite fully accepted into the mainstream.”
The interview’s most striking discussion concerns the post-election controversy over immigrant participation and the political legitimacy of Sweden’s newest citizens. Dr. Blombäck notes that rising turnout in socioeconomically vulnerable areas with significant migrant populations has been portrayed by some actors on the right as threatening. This, she argues, has shifted debate toward a more fundamental question: whether immigrants, “and especially Muslim immigrants,” are treated as “a potential problem or legitimate political actors.” Reflecting on the tone of the post-election debate, she states plainly: “In my personal view, the debate has become quite ugly over the past week or two.” She adds that Sweden is “a country of immigrants,” and warns that political mobilization which questions the legitimacy of such citizens as political actors carries particularly significant implications.
Beyond immigration, Dr. Blombäck situates the election within a broader restructuring of Swedish party competition. She argues that the party system has “tilted diagonally” along the GAL–TAN dimension, while the composition and ideological content of Sweden’s traditional blocs have changed. The result, she suggests, is not simply polarization, but a transformation in how parties compete, cooperate, stigmatize one another, and define the boundaries of political legitimacy in contemporary Sweden.
Here is our interview with Assistant Professor Sofie Blombäck, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Sweden Is Unlikely to Return to the Migration Policies It Had Ten Years Ago
Sweden’s 2026 general election produced a narrow parliamentary majority for the red-green parties, with 176 seats compared with 173 for the Tidö parties. The Social Democrats remained the largest party with 28 percent of the vote, followed by the Moderates at 19.8 percent and the Sweden Democrats at 17.5 percent. Source: SVT.
Professor Blombäck, welcome! Let me begin with the most striking paradox of the September 13 election. The Sweden Democrats fell from 20.5 percent in 2022 to 17.48 percent and lost ground for the first time since entering Parliament, yet many policies and frames associated with SD—particularly on immigration, integration, crime, citizenship, and deportation—have become considerably more mainstream. How should we distinguish between an electoral setback for a populist radical-right party and the longer-term success of its political agenda? Can a party lose votes while simultaneously winning the ideological argument?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: It’s still a little early to determine exactly what caused this setback in the Sweden Democrats’ electoral fortunes. The party itself tends to blame strategic voting, arguing that some of its supporters voted for the Liberals. I’ve also seen suggestions that it lost some votes to parties even further to the right that failed to enter Parliament.
But I believe another factor is that some voters supported the Sweden Democrats because they wanted tougher migration policies and a tougher approach to crime. In a sense, they have now gotten what they wanted. On migration, parties across the political spectrum, including the Social Democrats, are essentially campaigning to maintain the current policy direction, which has been heavily influenced by the Sweden Democrats.
So, for voters who supported the Sweden Democrats in the last election because they wanted tougher migration policies, those policies are now largely in place. They may not want to go as far as the Sweden Democrats do, but they are perhaps fairly confident that another government, whether led by the Moderates or the Social Democrats, would not return to the migration policies Sweden had 10 years ago, or even four years ago.
The Cordon Sanitaire Is Gone, but the Stigma Around the SD Has Not Disappeared
Your research with Niklas Bolin and Stefan Dahlberg found a persistent “stigmatization effect”: voters evaluated identical proposals less favorably when they were told that the proposal came from SD, even after the party had grown substantially and its political isolation had weakened. After four years in which SD exercised extensive influence through the Tidö agreement, what would you expect that stigma to look like today? Has SD finally acquired something closer to a “reputational shield,” or might voters still distinguish sharply between accepting SD-inspired policies and accepting SD itself?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: One of the most memorable moments from the election-night coverage was when the Sweden Democrats’ party leader, Jimmie Åkesson, went on stage before the cameras and said that their voters no longer needed to feel ashamed. From the party’s perspective, this seems to have cemented its status as a party like any other.
It would be really interesting to run the same experiments now, after four years with a government influenced by the Sweden Democrats. Unfortunately, we haven’t been able to do that. There is probably still some stigma attached to the Sweden Democrats, but it is not as universal as it was four years ago. All the parties on the right are now on the record saying that they would be willing to include the Sweden Democrats in a government. So, the cordon sanitaire is gone; it is no longer in effect. But among voters on the left, the Sweden Democrats remain highly stigmatized.
We do not yet know what the government will look like, but for the Sweden Democrats, being allowed to join a government after this election was supposed to be the final step into the political mainstream. At the moment, a left-wing government appears more likely, and the Sweden Democrats are not the largest opposition party. One outcome of this election, therefore, is that they are neither able to enter government nor become the default opposition leader by virtue of being the largest opposition party. So, they are not quite fully accepted into the mainstream, but the stigma has clearly decreased.
Countering the Party Does Not Necessarily Mean Countering the Ideas It Represents
Sweden Democrats’ Square Meeting in Umeå. Jimmie Åkesson speaks to the people on the city square where opposition left-wingers have formed a chain and protest in Umeå, Sweden on August 14, 2018. Photo: Shutterstock.
That distinction seems particularly important for understanding normalization. Should we analytically separate the normalization of a party from the normalization of its ideas? If mainstream parties adopt restrictive migration policies, assimilationist rhetoric, or tougher approaches toward citizenship while SD itself remains socially or morally stigmatized for some voters, are we dealing with partial normalization rather than full political mainstreaming?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: That’s a strategy that parties across Western Europe have tried in response to SD and other parties in the same political family. There has been considerable debate among mainstream parties over what the most effective strategy should be. If the goal is to counteract the party as an organization, one option is to adopt some of its positions and policies. If voters can obtain the policy ideas associated with a right-wing party from another party that does not carry the same stigma, that may, of course, be more palatable to some of them.
Other voters, however, may actually be attracted to the anti-establishment rhetoric itself. But, as your question suggests, countering the party does not necessarily mean countering the ideas that the right-wing populist party represents. Those ideas can still become normalized. We know from research that voters take cues from party leaders. If the leader of the party you support says that a proposal or policy is good and acceptable, you are more likely to agree with it. By adopting the right-wing party’s policies and messages, other parties are therefore, in effect, contributing to the mainstreaming of those ideas.
That being said, one explanation political scientists in Sweden have offered for the rise of the Sweden Democrats is that the party was able to tap into ideas and preferences that were already present in the electorate. Immigration used to be one of the issues on which the electorate and elected representatives differed most. Members of the Riksdag (Swedish Parliament) were much more pro-immigration and more accepting of refugees than the average Swedish voter. In that sense, the Sweden Democrats helped align these two groups by becoming the party-political expression of an idea or preference that was already present in the electorate.
Sweden Is a Country of Immigrants
The 2026 campaign also exposed the continued importance of anti-immigration and, at times, explicitly anti-Islam politics. SD’s campaign included proposals concerning Islamic dress, while opposition mobilization was particularly strong in some immigrant-dense urban districts. How should we distinguish legitimate democratic debate over immigration, integration, and secularism from forms of political mobilization that turn Muslims or immigrants into collective objects of suspicion? At what point does cultural conflict become exclusionary or nativist politics?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: This is one of the issues that has carried over into the post-election public debate. I mentioned earlier that one of the memorable moments from the election-night coverage was when the Sweden Democrats’ leader said that their voters no longer needed to feel ashamed. Another memorable moment came during the final party leaders’ debate before the election, when Jimmie Åkesson said that this could be the first election decided by the immigration that the other parties had allowed.
This has become a recurring trope over the past couple of weeks. There have been articles and media coverage from various outlets debating whether this election was won by Sweden’s newest citizens. Electoral participation increased in some of the most vulnerable, socioeconomically deprived areas, where many relatively recent migrants live and where some residents may not have been Swedish citizens four years ago. Of course, this has sparked a debate over whether this is a positive development. We generally want citizens to vote; that is regarded as democratic. Yet the Sweden Democrats and some other opinion leaders on the right have portrayed this participation as threatening.
The argument is that the parties on the left—the Left Party and the Social Democrats—have mobilized voters who do not really know what they are doing and are essentially voting the way they are told. This has been compounded by accusations of electoral impropriety concerning one particular candidate of Somali heritage in a small Swedish town.
So, this is still very much up in the air and further complicates the discussion. I realize I have not yet directly answered your question, but it connects to the same debate over immigrants, and especially Muslim immigrants, as either a potential problem or legitimate political actors.
The parties on the left would say that we should not be surprised that voters in these communities overwhelmingly support parties on the left, because parties on the right want to deport them and their neighbors. So why would you vote for a party that has said it does not want you to be here?
This is something Sweden is going to have to grapple with over the coming weeks and months. In my personal view, the debate has become quite ugly over the past week or two.
Sweden is a country of immigrants. A substantial share of the adult population has roots outside Sweden, including outside Europe, and this brings the issue to the forefront. When you have one party mobilizing against this group, even questioning their legitimacy as political actors, the implications become particularly significant.
So, it is not new. This has always been part of the Sweden Democrats’ electoral appeal, but it has been brought more clearly to the forefront, not least because I have seen others joining this discussion and accepting its premise. At the same time, you also see pushback from the left, arguing that you might just as well say that churchgoers decided the election, or point to various other groups that also account for roughly the 50,000-vote difference between the two blocs. You can identify such groups across many demographic categories, not just among new citizens.
Voters Judge the Same Policy Differently Depending on Who Proposes It
Politicians and campaigners engage with voters at the Sweden Democrats’ election hut in a city square in Uppsala, Sweden, on August 17, 2026, ahead of Sweden’s parliamentary elections. Photo: Krister Hägglöf / Dreamstime.
One implication of your stigmatization research is that party labels themselves function as powerful political cues. But what happens when policies first associated with the radical right are subsequently proposed by mainstream parties? Does the removal of the SD label make restrictive proposals more acceptable—and, if so, can mainstream parties become important agents in laundering or legitimizing ideas that were previously considered too radical?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: That’s certainly what our results indicate. A proposal, regardless of its content, is seen more favorably when it comes from a party other than the Sweden Democrats, or from the voter’s own preferred party. So, this goes back to the idea of elite cues. If your preferred party proposes a policy, you are more likely to agree with it than if it is proposed by a party you disagree with. This is compounded by the stigma attached to a party like the Sweden Democrats.
For some voters, a proposal is never going to be acceptable if it comes from the Sweden Democrats, almost regardless of whether it involves free puppies and ice cream for everyone; they are going to regard it with suspicion. But the flip side is exactly what you are pointing to: the other parties, the more mainstream or established parties, want to neutralize the SD. They do not want to lose voters to the Sweden Democrats. The party grew to become the second-largest party and is now the third-largest party in the party system. Of course, the other parties want those voters back, and one way of doing that is by giving voters what they want in terms of policy. But that, of course, also removes some of the stigma.
There is other research by researchers such as Elisabeth Ivarsflaten that points to the fact that we have an internal stigma as well. We do not want to believe ourselves to be racist, for example. Nobody wants to be thought of by others as racist, but we also do not want to think of ourselves that way. So, we need some way of convincing ourselves that supporting a specific policy does not make us a bad person, a racist, or an elitist, or whatever the bad thing may be. If you can say that someone else who is not racist, not elitist—whatever the bad thing is—is also supporting this policy, then it becomes easier to believe that I’m not racist either. This can probably work in quite a few different ways.
The Mainstream Right’s Cooperation with SD Is a Double-Edged Sword
This raises a strategic problem for the mainstream right. The Moderates and other Tidö parties governed with SD support and adopted substantial elements of its agenda, yet SD still received 17.48 percent while the Tidö bloc narrowly lost its parliamentary majority. Does the Swedish case suggest that accommodation can simultaneously normalize the radical right and fail to neutralize it electorally? What does this tell us about the conventional assumption that mainstream parties can compete away populist radical-right support by moving toward its positions?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: One way many political scientists in Sweden have tried to understand the other Tidö parties’ shift toward the Sweden Democrats is through basic electoral math. After the 2018 election, the Center Party (C) and the Liberals (L) signaled that, when forced to choose between a government dependent on the SD and one involving the Social Democrats—the traditional adversary of the parties on the right—they chose the Social Democrats.
That left the Moderate Party (M) and the Christian Democrats (KD) in a position where they could no longer see a viable path to government without the Sweden Democrats. If they could not rely on parties in the center of the party system to help them govern with SD support, they still needed the Sweden Democrats because the party was large enough that any Moderate-led government would at least require it not to actively oppose them. Mathematically, unless something changed significantly, that seemed to imply permanent opposition for the Moderates and Christian Democrats.
So, in that situation, the obvious option was to open up to collaboration. We have seen similar developments in other Western European countries, where mainstream parties on the right have included populist-right parties because they needed them electorally to gain office. In a sense, this is basic coalition theory 101.
But, of course, that also gives a party like the Sweden Democrats considerable leverage. They could demand policy concessions in 2022, and if a right-wing government were to be formed now—which does not appear to be the first option, though we do not yet know—they would demand inclusion as a full coalition member.
That, in turn, means that the other parties on the right are effectively signaling that the Sweden Democrats are not a pariah party and are no longer beyond the pale. This can limit SD’s growth, as I mentioned earlier, by allowing the other parties to win back voters who may be Moderates at heart but wanted stricter migration policy. Those voters can now return to the Moderate Party, potentially placing a ceiling on the Sweden Democrats’ support.
At the same time, however, this also signals to the perhaps 75 percent of Sweden Democrat voters who are hardcore party identifiers that it is acceptable to be a Sweden Democrat. They are no longer voting for a stigmatized party, and their party can exert real policy influence, so they are not, in that sense, wasting their vote. So, it is a double-edged sword, but coalition theory helps explain why the other parties still feel compelled to make this choice.
The Swedish Party System Has Tilted Diagonally
Swedish political parties intensified their campaigning ahead of the critical September 13, 2026 parliamentary election, setting up campaign stands in prominent public squares to promote their platforms and election promises. The image shows party campaign stands in the square connecting the two sections of Åkersberga Centrum in Österåker, Sweden. Photo: Bulent Kenes.
Your broader work on representative democracy emphasizes the importance of ideological contestation and the linkage between parties and citizens. If established parties increasingly converge on restrictive immigration and integration policies, while voters who disagree migrate toward V, MP, C, or other alternatives, could Sweden be witnessing a new form of realignment rather than simply a temporary swing between blocs? What would constitute convincing evidence that a new cleavage structure has emerged?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: This has already taken place in Sweden, and I would go back to the 2018 election as the crucial point. If we think of left-right economic policy as one dimension and the GAL-TAN (Green, Alternative, Libertarian / Traditional, Authoritarian, Nationalist) cultural dimension as another—covering migration, environmental policy, and various other issues—the Swedish party system has tilted diagonally.
For several elections in the early 2000s, we had a quite rigid two-bloc system, with M, KD, L, and C on one side, and the Social Democrats (S), Greens (MP), and Left Party (V) on the other. This was stable enough that some of my colleagues compared Sweden to almost a two-party system because the two blocs were so dominant. Then the Sweden Democrats entered and disrupted this left-right division. The Sweden Democrats were mobilizing on the other dimension, the GAL-TAN dimension.
For a couple of elections, the other parties tried to pretend that SD was not there, isolating the party and carrying on with left-right politics as usual. But what happened in 2018 was that the two parties in the center, C and L, had both promised not to support or join any government dependent on SD because, in their words, SD was a racist party. The then-L leader even said, “I have promised my children that I will never do this.” At the same time, they had promised voters that they would not support a Social Democratic and left-wing government because they did not like its left-wing economic policies.
Then came the longest government formation in Swedish history. Usually, government formation takes a week. This time, it took months. In the end, despite the fact that both parties would have preferred some sort of centrist coalition, they were forced to choose because the other parties refused to go along with the idea of a grand coalition in the middle.
So, when it came down to it, C and L chose to align with the parties they agreed with on the GAL end of the GAL-TAN scale rather than with the parties they agreed with on the economic right. This marked the first step toward what we are now beginning to see as a new two-bloc system, where the parties on the right-TAN side have included SD, while the Center Party has remained on the left-GAL side and the Liberals have moved back. They have now let go of their red line on the Sweden Democrats.
So, it is not that this is supplanting the way Swedish politics usually works. We tend to like bloc politics, apparently, but the content of the blocs has changed, both in terms of the parties involved and their ideological content.
The Left Party Is Not Guaranteed a Place in a Left-Wing Government
The Left Party (V) increased its support to 8.40 percent and 30 seats. In your earlier research on V, you argued that the party’s position in the party system depends heavily on how other parties, especially the Social Democrats, relate to it. Does the 2026 result strengthen V as an autonomous pole of the Swedish left, or does its influence still depend fundamentally on whether Social Democrats treat it as a legitimate governing partner rather than merely a parliamentary support party?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: This is another issue that remains very much up in the air. Right now, the main stumbling block for Magdalena Andersson, the Social Democratic Party leader, is that she has been asked by the outgoing parliament speaker to try to form a government. But she would need support from the Left Party and the Greens, as well as the Center Party, and the Center Party is not at all a fan of the Left Party. They have basically ruled out collaborating with them. They say they do not want to cooperate with either of the extremes in the party system: not the Left Party and not the Sweden Democrats.
The Left Party, meanwhile, is once again saying that it will not support a government in which it is not included. They have tried this before with the Social Democrats but have never succeeded. In the end, they have had to settle for budget cooperation and basically trade their parliamentary support for policy influence.
When we speculate about this around the coffee table at work, we tend to think that the Left Party may once again have to give in, because the Center Party is in a stronger negotiating position. It has more options. The party would still prefer some kind of centrist grand coalition, although that does not seem likely at the moment.
In a sense, they are in the same situation they faced in 2018. They either have to accept left-wing economic policies or accept the inclusion of the Sweden Democrats in government. So, my money is still on some form of left-wing government, but the Left Party is not guaranteed to be included in it. The accusations of electoral impropriety that have come to the forefront over the past week have not helped. Nor has the fact that, before the election, the Left Party had to basically expel some candidates who had been caught making statements considered anti-Semitic or too supportive of Hamas.
There have also been signals from the Social Democrats that they are not sure whether the Left Party is ready to be a governing party. The question, then, is what the Left Party will do. Unless the Social Democrats, in particular, can persuade it to change its position of refusing to support a government without being included in the coalition, the Left Party will probably be left with two options: either tolerate a right-wing government dependent on the Sweden Democrats or force an extra election.
That is something that simply does not happen in Swedish politics. All the parties are convinced that voters will not be happy if they fail to form a government and will punish whoever is perceived to be responsible. That being said, there is a scenario in which the Left Party might calculate that left-wing voters would appreciate a principled stand and that it might be able to peel off some additional voters from the Social Democrats. But I think that is unlikely.
Voters Can Move to the Left Party or Greens to Signal Disagreement with the Social Democrats
The Social Democrats remained the largest party but fell to 28.02 percent, while V and the Greens gained. How should we interpret this redistribution within the left? Could it indicate that S’s attempts to adopt more restrictive positions on immigration have weakened its ability to monopolize the progressive electorate, creating political space for parties that articulate clearer alternatives on migration, welfare, climate, or civil liberties?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: In one sense, the decline of the Social Democrats reflects a long-running and geographically widespread trend that we have seen across many Western European countries. There is also a demographic challenge for the party. Many of its most loyal supporters are elderly, and the very old tend to vote at lower rates than younger citizens. Once you get past the age of 85, for example, making it to a polling station may simply become less of a priority.
At the same time, Swedish bloc politics has a long tradition of voters identifying more strongly with a political bloc than with a particular party. So, there is a group of voters who see themselves primarily as left-bloc voters. These voters may move between the Social Democrats, the Greens, the Left Party, and perhaps even the Feminist Initiative, depending on the election.
Part of that choice can be strategic. There is a long tradition of voting in ways that help keep all the parties in a preferred bloc above the electoral threshold. That has not really been an issue on the left in this election. It mattered much more on the right, where the Liberals were expected perhaps not to reach the 4 percent threshold but ultimately made it to around 5 percent.
Another form of strategic voting within the blocs is to signal the direction in which voters want the bloc to move. If you are a broadly left-wing voter but disagree with the Social Democrats’ attempt to neutralize the immigration and law-and-order issues by moving quite close to the Moderate Party, you can vote for the Left Party or the Green Party to signal that disagreement. Similarly, if you are particularly concerned about what the government has done with Swedish climate policy, you might move to the Green Party. You are still supporting a change of government, and you are still expecting Magdalena Andersson to become Prime Minister, but you are also signaling that you want the government to tilt more toward the green side.
So, this is a challenge for the larger parties in both blocs. They tend to compete for the median voter while simultaneously facing pressure from parties on their flanks. This is simply part of how Swedish politics works.
Both SD and V Are Now Firmly Entrenched in Swedish Parliamentary Democracy
The parliament (Riksdag) building in Stockholm, Sweden. Photo: Dreamstime.
This produces an interesting symmetry. SD challenges the mainstream from the radical right, while V seeks influence from the left. From a party-system perspective, what are the analytical dangers of treating the populist or radical right and the radical left as equivalent phenomena? Which dimensions—attitudes toward liberal democracy, pluralism, minorities, political equality, capitalism, nationalism, or institutional constraints—should scholars use to distinguish different forms of anti-establishment politics?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: It depends somewhat on why we are interested in studying the symmetry. From a purely coalition-formation and bloc-politics perspective, the symmetry is quite clear. Both sides of the political spectrum have struggled with similar problems: each has a party on the flank that the more centrist members of the coalition do not like. This was even more pronounced in 2022, when the Liberals were still on the fence about the Sweden Democrats. This time, they climbed down off the fence on the Sweden Democrats’ side.
From that perspective, the challenge is quite similar. In terms of what this says about politics or political attitudes, however, they are very different parties. Both have problematic pasts, and this is often brought up, especially by politicians on the right and other opinion makers, when discussing the Left Party. It used to be the Communist Party many decades ago and was not regarded as a reliable party. During the national government in World War II, for example, the communists were excluded. They were not seen as trustworthy when all the other parties formed a joint coalition.
There is a history there. But it is, of course, much further back in time than the history of the Sweden Democrats. You then have people disagreeing over what the bigger problem is: communist roots or skinhead neo-Nazi roots. That is one part of the debate: are these equally bad or not? The other part concerns what the parties have done to rehabilitate themselves.
Both parties have had scandals involving candidates or local politicians who have been excluded for saying or doing things, often through posts on social media. That seems to be the downfall for many of these candidates because it is there in print. But I would say this has been more prevalent among the Sweden Democrats.
Of course, the argument from parties on the left—that it is ridiculous to compare the two—is not helped by instances during this election in which they have seemed not to really know who is on the ballot, particularly candidates placed quite far down the ballot in various parts of the country. This is usually something parties try to address by vetting candidates quite thoroughly.
But we also have the problem in Sweden, as in other countries, of declining party membership. Parties increasingly struggle to find people willing to stand for office, especially local office, in many smaller municipalities. If you are faced with having no candidate at all or with a candidate you do not know very well, you might opt to give that person a chance. This is a problem that many smaller parties struggle with.
The final point I would make is that I do not think we can really regard either of these parties as anti-establishment anymore. They have both been part of governing arrangements, even if they have not formally been in government. This is especially true of the Left Party, which has played such a role for decades.
They are also trying very hard to become governing parties. In that sense, they are no longer mobilizing around the idea that “all the other parties are equally bad, and we are the ones here to shake up the system and do something new.” It is more that they are positioned at the ideological extremes, while both are nevertheless firmly entrenched in Swedish parliamentary democracy.
The SD Could Survive Isolation, but Governing Remains the Final Threshold
Your research on new political parties emphasizes that their long-term success depends not only on voter demand but also on political opportunity structures, established-party acceptance, leadership, and institutional conditions. Does SD’s trajectory illustrate how decisive established-party acceptance can be? To what extent did the transformation from cordon sanitaire to formalized parliamentary cooperation alter SD’s position more fundamentally than additional electoral growth would have done?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: Most of the research I’ve done on this has focused on new parties in the context of the European Parliament, but I think it also translates to the national level. What I found was that acceptance by mainstream parties was very important, with populist radical-right parties being something of an exception to this rule. There are several cases across Europe in which such parties have managed to survive despite being isolated and placed behind a cordon sanitaire by other parties.
This is more speculative, but I would imagine that this is because they have been able to tap into voter demand for a particular type of policy among people who may be angry or dissatisfied enough that they are not deterred by knowing their party is unlikely to exercise much policy influence in the short term.
Of course, it is difficult to know what the counterfactual would have been if this invitation into the mainstream from parties on the right had not occurred. But the Sweden Democrats had contested elections for more than 10 years before they were first elected to Parliament, and for more than 20 years before they were first invited into the Tidö cooperation. Clearly, the party was capable of surviving on its own.
When we study new parties, however, we tend to think of their lifespan in terms of crossing different thresholds, and the Sweden Democrats have not yet crossed the final threshold of actually governing. They have not done so at the national level, although they have at the municipal level in some cases. In a way, that is the final hurdle to becoming a fully institutionalized part of the party system.
We Need to Look at Both What a Party Says and What It Actually Does
Sweden’s Social Democrats campaign ahead of the general election in Malmö, Sweden, on September 2, 2022, in support of then-Prime Minister Magdalena Andersson’s bid for a second term. Photo: Francis Joseph Dean / Dreamstime.
At the same time, the election raises a broader question about extremism. SD has spent years attempting to distance itself from its historical extremist origins while becoming an established parliamentary actor. What criteria should political scientists use when deciding whether a formerly extremist party has genuinely moderated, merely professionalized its communication, or instead succeeded in moving the boundaries of acceptable politics around itself?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: We would need to look at both what the party says and what it does, but also at what the electorate thinks and does. This is quite straightforward to study. You can take the election manifestos and party programs of a party like the Sweden Democrats and trace the moderation of its positions, the shift in language from overtly racist rhetoric to more dog-whistle-style language, and some broader moderation of its stances.
Another example, unrelated to immigration, is the party’s position on Swedish EU membership. It was the last party to shift toward being, if not supportive, at least accepting of Swedish EU membership. That was a precondition for being invited to cooperate with the Moderates, who consider it very important that a partner be reliable on foreign policy.
That is one shift you can observe both in what the party says and in what it does. It no longer opposes Swedish negotiating positions in the EU. These positions have to be presented to Parliament, and the Sweden Democrats used to hold a record for the number of times they disagreed and argued that Sweden should take a different position on various issues of EU policy. Now they have joined in supporting what the government has done.
So, this is a case of the party saying something and then following through in the way it votes and acts. Of course, the final hurdle would be to see what the party would actually do if it were given the post of Minister for Migration, which is something it very clearly wanted and expected to receive if the Tidö side won.
That is one way of looking at it. Another is to examine what voters think of the party. Stefan Dahlberg, my colleague with whom I co-authored the piece on stigmatization, has continued this line of research with other colleagues, looking at shifts in voter attitudes toward migration and support for the Sweden Democrats. In a recent paper, they identify some changes in the general level of acceptance for anti-migration attitudes at the very local level.
So, I would hesitate to identify a single criterion. In my own research, I tend to pay attention to what parties say they want to do and what they believe, but also to what they are actually willing to do. This is especially important when it comes to compromise, because it does not seem to be on the cards that the Sweden Democrats will gain a majority on their own. Nor does it seem likely that any party will do so in Sweden. We have eight parties in Parliament, after all.
So, it is not just a matter of what you say you believe, but also what you are willing to compromise on. In the Tidö agreement, the Sweden Democrats did not have to compromise much on their core issues. Because they were not allowed to join the government, they were given a great many policy concessions. If they were included in a coalition, I would imagine that the other parties might push back more. But that remains to be seen.
Migration and Identity Are More Difficult Areas for Broad Compromise
Your recent work on elite deliberation finds that political actors can engage in respectful, common-good-oriented discussion even when partisan commitments and economic constraints limit the space for genuine accommodation. Could deliberative mechanisms of this kind help reduce polarization around migration and identity, or are such conflicts qualitatively different because they involve moral boundaries, belonging, religion, and national identity rather than primarily distributive disagreements?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: It’s a good question. We conducted our research at the local level, where many of these issues are simply not present. Local politics in Sweden often revolves around questions such as how to organize schools or elder care, or how to attract more business to the area, whereas issues of migration and nationality are firmly situated at the national level.
A further complication in simply transposing what we found at the local level to the national level is that scrutiny is much more intense in national politics. One of the key elements of this more deliberative style of decision-making is that all parties are willing to sit down and have these kinds of discussions, and that they are willing and able to do so without negotiating through the media. These are meetings held behind closed doors, and even in the municipality where we conducted our study, you could see a clear difference between how politicians spoke in public council meetings and how they interacted in non-public deliberative meetings.
More broadly, this ties into the debate on affective polarization, which is very much at the forefront these days. There is this question of who you can still talk to in the sense of, “I may disagree with your stances, but I still respect you as a person.” And I don’t think election campaigns are really the best place to look for that.
The flip side is that the Swedish Parliament has a long tradition of reaching broad consensus. But, as your question suggests, many of those broad agreements concern economic and redistributive issues where compromise is possible. Halfway between 0 and 100 is 50, but halfway between permanent residence permits and no permanent residence permits—there is no such thing as a half-permanent residence permit.
For that reason, these questions may be more difficult when it comes to forming broad agreements. But even here, there is historical precedent. Back in 2010, the then-Alliance government on the right formed an agreement with, among others, the Green Party on migration policy in order to neutralize the Sweden Democrats. They preferred to collaborate with parties on the other side of the bloc in order to neutralize the issue.
That agreement did not hold—or rather, positions shifted—but such arrangements are not unheard of.
The 2026 Election May Be More a Story of Continuity Than Dramatic Change
Sweden has often been portrayed as a high-trust, consensus-oriented democracy. Yet the rise of SD, sharper conflicts over Islam and immigration, and growing bloc fragmentation seem to challenge that self-image. Does the 2026 election suggest a weakening of the traditional Swedish consensus model—or could stronger ideological contestation actually improve representative democracy by giving citizens clearer alternatives rather than producing the depoliticization that your work on party linkage warns against?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: It’s a double-edged sword. Normatively, we want voters to have choices. One way of looking at the Swedish tradition of bloc politics is that it tries to do both: you have broad blocs within which parties can cooperate, while voters can still choose among the different parties within those blocs.
I think it’s too early to draw firm conclusions from the 2026 election. One early interpretation that many political scientists have pointed to is that, despite a highly contentious campaign—particularly in the final couple of weeks, since the summer itself was relatively calm—the overall shifts in the election results were not that dramatic.
It can, of course, be politically dramatic if there is a change from a right-wing to a left-wing government. But the difference between the two blocs is only around 50,000 votes, and it was something similar in the previous election. So, in terms of voter movement between the blocs, the shift is not especially large. One story we are already seeing, therefore, is one of continuity rather than dramatic change.
Another point is that, since the Sweden Democrats emerged as an electoral force at the subnational level—in municipalities and regions—we have seen an increase in cross-bloc cooperation, often aimed at neutralizing the Sweden Democrats or other political challenges that established parties do not like. We have around 150 local parties, ranging from very pragmatic to highly populist, across Sweden’s municipalities.
In the last electoral period, almost 50 out of 290 municipalities were governed jointly by the Social Democrats and the Moderates, something that would be almost unthinkable at the national level today. Two elections ago, it was also unusual at the local level, but it has now become quite normal.
So, it is far too early to say that these developments will necessarily lead to increased polarization and the erosion of the Swedish collaborative model. They might weaken it. But one development I find more worrying is not the election result itself, but what has happened in the Swedish Parliament during the last parliamentary period.
Several of the informal norms that help Parliament function have weakened. For decades, the parties had an arrangement whereby, if a politician from one side of the aisle was sick or had another official duty—perhaps attending a meeting of the Council of Europe or the UN—a politician from the other side would abstain from voting in order to preserve the balance of power.
During the last parliamentary period, the Sweden Democrats were included in this system because they were part of the government side in Parliament. They then broke with the agreement on a vote concerning migration. They argued that they had reasons for doing so, but the result was that the other parties, particularly those on the left, said that if they could no longer trust the Sweden Democrats to uphold the bargain, they could not continue to abide by it either. It is essentially a kind of prisoner’s dilemma.
Another example concerns the Committee on the Constitution, which handles complaints against government ministers. It was unable to agree on a unified statement regarding this year’s list of complaints. That tradition is much less long-standing, but the process had gradually become less politicized. Several parliaments, and especially several speakers of Parliament, had tried to make it less political and more almost judicial in character.
That development has now also fallen away. It may simply be a temporary blip because this was an election year, but it is indicative of a less deliberative and less consensus-oriented form of parliamentary conduct. No-confidence votes have also increased, and so on.
So, I will be very interested to see what happens once the new Parliament is seated.
On Security and International Cooperation, Sweden Still Presents a United Front
Your research with Thomas Karv shows that Swedish public opinion toward the EU has evolved significantly and that major external shocks can reshape political attitudes. In an era of war in Europe, NATO membership, migration pressures, and heightened security concerns, could security politics displace immigration as the principal terrain of radical-right mobilization—or might the radical right increasingly connect external security, borders, anti-Islam, migration, and national sovereignty into a single political narrative?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: This is a good example of traditional Swedish consensus politics. The issues of security and international cooperation have been fairly effectively neutralized by the fact that both the Social Democrats and the Moderates strongly supported Sweden’s application to join NATO in 2022, after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. Both potential governing parties, or prime ministerial parties, have been very clear that politics stops at the water: on these issues, Sweden presents a united front.
There is also the fact that the Moderates have demanded that the Sweden Democrats not rock the boat when it comes to European cooperation and related matters. That has been a precondition for considering the party a possible partner in a coalition or other form of government cooperation.
It is also the case that the Sweden Democrats are perhaps less Russia-friendly than some of their counterparts elsewhere in Europe, even though there was a scandal shortly before the election involving a Sweden Democrat politician and their partner being potentially connected to the Kremlin. So, the issue remains problematic in that sense.
In the previous election, however, there was an almost securitization of immigration and crime through the wave of shootings and bombings linked to organized crime, which the Sweden Democrats and others very strongly connected to immigration.
In a sense, this has created a “be careful what you wish for” situation for the government parties, because these incidents have declined. Of course, the Tidö parties want credit for reducing the number of shootings and bombings, but voters are now effectively saying, “Yes, I don’t care about bombings and shootings anymore; now I care about something else. I want a better economy or something.”
So, the government parties are not really being rewarded for bringing those incidents down, and as a result, that argument has been much less visible in this election.
SD Entering Government Would Mark the End of Its Pariah Status
And finally, Professor Blombäck, looking beyond one election, what indicators should we watch to determine whether September 13 represents a durable turning point or merely a temporary interruption in Sweden’s long-term political realignment? Would the most revealing signs be SD’s future vote share, the persistence of its policy influence, continued mainstream adoption of its positions, the strength of V and other alternatives, changing attitudes toward immigrants and Muslims, or the ability of mainstream parties to rebuild stronger representative linkages with citizens?
Dr. Sofie Blombäck: I think what could really mark a shift is if the government formation turns out to involve neither of the two teams or blocs that we have discussed throughout this election cycle. There have been persistent attempts by some parties to form a more centrist type of government that is not dependent on either V or SD.
If that were to happen, it would change the balance within the party system and would probably also have electoral repercussions next time around. So, in terms of the Swedish political system as a whole, that would probably be the most momentous development that could emerge from this election.
In terms of what this says about SD and the attitudes and policies associated with it, if, for some reason, we end up with a new Tidö agreement—it is not completely out of the question, even if it is not the most likely scenario—and SD is included in government, that would probably be what we remember from this election. It would mark the end of the party’s pariah status and could also have repercussions across a wide range of policy areas.
In this commentary, Dr. Hafza Girdap examines Turkey’s intensifying anti-gender politics through the interconnected concepts of gendered populism, gendered authoritarianism, and differentiated citizenship. Using the September 2026 “My Family Is Safe” crackdown as a focal point, she argues that family, morality, sexuality, childhood, and national belonging are increasingly mobilized to distinguish ‘legitimate citizens’ from threatening “Others.” Central to her framework is the proposition that “gendered populism” constructs and mobilizes the boundaries of legitimate belonging; “gendered authoritarianism” institutionalizes and enforces those boundaries; and the “established citizen” embodies the normative subject whom these processes simultaneously produce and claim to protect. The article situates contemporary anti-LGBTQ+ repression within a longer transformation of citizenship, political homophobia, and family-centered authoritarian governance in Turkey.
In September 2026, Turkish authorities launched a nationwide crackdown under the strikingly familial title “My Family Is Safe” (Ailem Güvende). According to the Turkish Minister of Justice, investigations encompassed 162 individuals, nine associations, and 13 businesses across 15 provinces. Police raids, arrests, searches, seizures, and restrictions on websites and social media accounts disproportionately affected LGBTQ+ organizations, activists, journalists, and spaces associated with queer communities. The authorities have framed the crackdowns through allegations including obscenity, prostitution, exposure of children to inappropriate content, and questionable financial relationships, while presenting the broader campaign as part of the state’s protection of children, families, and social order.
The prosecution of journalist Tuğba Tekerek makes the expanding boundaries particularly visible of this campaign. Tekerek was detained in connection with an article she had written two years ago for Kaos GL magazine/website about LGBTQ+ experiences surrounding elections in Georgia; she was subsequently arrested pending trial on suspicion of obscenity. The significance of these developments therefore extends beyond the immediate policing of sexuality. They raise a larger sociological question about how family, morality, gender, sexuality, childhood, and national belonging become politically interconnected categories through which ‘legitimate’ and ‘illegitimate’ subjects are distinguished (Girdap, 2026).
It is important to note that the current campaign is not an isolated episode but a particularly visible manifestation of a longer transformation in the gendered politics of citizenship in Turkey. Well before the current anti-LGBTQ+ crackdown, women’s rights had increasingly been reframed through a family-centered policy discourse in which women were positioned predominantly through motherhood and wifehood; feminist organizations and LGBTQ+ identities were simultaneously subjected to delegitimizing discourses (Sarac et al, 2023). Following the failed coup attempt of July 2016, these processes intensified as women’s organizations were closed, women associated with political opposition were subjected to gender-specific forms of punishment, and women’s identities and familial relationships themselves became sites through which political repression could operate. Post-coup migration similarly demonstrates that state-led and state-sanctioned gendered violence increasingly targeted not only women but also people positioned outside dominant understandings of national belonging on the basis of gender and sexual identity, ethnicity, religion, and political affiliation.
The campaign surrounding the Istanbul Convention provides an especially important bridge between these earlier developments and the present moment. As I have previously argued, contemporary right-wing populism frequently makes gender and sexuality central to the production of political antagonism: the heteronormative family is elevated as the normative model of social organization, while reproductive rights, LGBTQ+ identities, and gender ideology are constructed as challenges to it. In Turkey, the government’s renaming of the Ministry of Women and Family as the Ministry of Family and Social Policy symbolically relocated women within the family, while political discourse increasingly presented motherhood, children, religion, and the traditional family as markers of legitimate gendered belonging. The subsequent representation of the Istanbul Convention as a threat to the family demonstrates how gender discourse can participate in constructing an antagonistic ‘Other’ while simultaneously legitimizing the consolidation of political authority.
I conceptualize this process as gendered populism operating through gendered authoritarianism (Girdap, 2026). Gender here is not merely another policy domain upon which authoritarian politics happens to act. Rather, it becomes one of the mechanisms through which political membership itself is imagined and regulated. Populist distinctions between the ‘legitimate people’ and ‘threatening Others’ acquire gendered, sexualized, familial, religious, and moral content. Authoritarian power can subsequently translate those distinctions into institutional practices through law, policing, prosecution, censorship, restrictions on civil society, and regulation of public visibility. The family consequently functions not simply as a private institution or conservative value but as a political technology of boundary-making: protecting the familysimultaneously requires defining which families, gender performances, sexualities, bodies, relationships, and forms of public participation are recognizable as legitimate.
Drawing on the conception of gendered citizenship, Turkish citizenship has historically been organized through hegemonic masculinities and heteronormative requirements of belonging, while nationalism, militarism, religion, ethnicity, and gender intersect in producing differentiated access to social and political membership (Unlu, 2023). Turkishness, thus, is not merely a formal legal identity but an institutionalized regime of belonging in which gendered, racialized, ethnic, and religious hierarchies regulate who can inhabit the national subject without having their belonging questioned. This distinction between formal citizenship and substantive belonging is particularly important: minority women and LGBTQ+ individuals may be citizens in law while remaining positioned outside a narrower heteronormative conception of the socially legitimate Turkish citizen (Girdap, 2026).
I therefore employ the concept of the established citizen to capture this relationship between formal membership and normative belonging. The established citizen is not simply the person who possesses Turkish citizenship. Rather, it is the subject whose gender, sexuality, familial position, religion, ethnicity, political comportment, and relationship to dominant national narratives most readily conform to the historically shifting expectations of legitimate Turkishness. Importantly, this ideal is neither historically fixed nor produced exclusively by contemporary political Islam. Competing hegemonic masculinities, including modernist-secularist, Islamist, ultranationalist, and other political formations, have differed in their prescriptions while repeatedly making women’s bodies, appearance, sexuality, reproduction, and public participation sites upon which competing projects of nationhood are enacted (Özbay & Soybakis, 2020). Gendered authoritarianismtherefore does not invent gendered citizenship; it intensifies, reorganizes, and politically mobilizes its already existing boundaries.
Seen through this framework, the September 2026 crackdown poses a question considerably larger than whether the Turkish state is becoming more hostile toward LGBTQ+ people. It asks who can inhabit citizenship without having to continually establish their legitimacy. When family, morality, childhood, sexuality, national values, foreign influence, and public order converge within the same political vocabulary, the boundary between protecting an institution and policing a population becomes analytically crucial.
The current moment can therefore be read as an intensified stage in a longer process through which gendered populismidentifies the normative people, gendered authoritarianism disciplines those positioned beyond its boundaries, and the established citizen ideal supplies the gendered and moral architecture of belonging. Hence, rather than treating today’s crackdown as the beginning of a new politics, I ask what its vocabulary of family, morality, danger, and protection reveals about the gendered architecture of citizenship that made this politics possible in the first place.
Homophobic Populism, Populist Homophobia, and Anti-Gender Politics
Political homophobia is not merely hostility toward LGBTQ+ identities; it can function as a technology of political boundary-making through which the ‘legitimate people,’ the ‘threatening Other,’ and the moral boundaries of national belonging are constructed (Unal, 2024). Drawing on the concept of ontological security, Unal (2024) examines people’s need for a relatively stable sense of self, identity, continuity, and social world. Populist crisis discourse can generate ontological insecurity by presenting family, nation, morality, and culture as endangered. From the perspective developed here, this insight adds another dimension to the established citizen: the established citizen is not only the citizen who conforms to normative expectations but can also be constructed as the citizen who must be protected.
The contemporary mobilization against LGBTQ+ rights should be understood not as an isolated national political development but as part of a broader transnational anti-gender movement whose organizational strategies and discursive repertoires have developed through earlier anti-abortion campaigns (Kahlina et al., 2025; Ojeda et al., 2024). In this transformation, political struggles previously organized around opposition to abortion have increasingly expanded toward opposition to transgender rights, LGBTQ+ visibility, feminism, and what activists and political actors describe as gender ideology. Since the 2010s, populist leaders in diverse political contexts have adopted increasingly aggressive anti-LGBTQ+ and anti-feminist positions, often using gender and sexuality as politically mobilizing issues. While these strategies frequently seek alliances with conservative religious constituencies, their appeal is not limited to religious voters; anti-gender politics can also mobilize secular constituencies through broader narratives concerning family, children, morality, social stability, and national values (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022).
Homophobic populism, the strategic adoption of homo- and transphobic positions by populist political actors seeking electoral and political advantages, can create what amounts to a marriage of convenience among anti-pluralist populists, socially conservative secular actors, and conservative religious groups (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Populist politicians may promise socially conservative gender and sexuality policies in exchange for electoral support and, importantly, the political acquiescence of religious authorities toward other illiberal or anti-pluralist practices. Homophobic populism therefore operates simultaneously as an electoral strategy and a co-optation strategy. Gender and sexuality become useful not only for attracting socially conservative constituencies but also for constructing alliances that can facilitate broader challenges to political pluralism and democratic constraints.
A related but analytically distinct phenomenon is populist homophobia. Whereas homophobic populism describes political actors’ strategic deployment of homo- and transphobia, populist homophobia refers more specifically to the discursive mechanism through which anti-LGBTQ+ politics is translated into populist language (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Its central rhetorical mechanism is harm or victim inversion: groups that have historically experienced marginalization are reconstructed as powerful actors allegedly threatening the majority (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). LGBTQ+ communities consequently cease to appear as minorities seeking equal rights and instead become represented as an intrusive or privileged elite whose demands are portrayed as radical, foreign, coercive, or dangerous to children, families, religion, and society.
This inversion is particularly important because it enables anti-gender politics to be articulated through the language of protection rather than exclusion. Opposition to LGBTQ+ rights can be presented not explicitly as hostility toward sexual and gender minorities but as the defense of apparently universal public goods: children, families, parental autonomy, religious freedom, morality, social stability, or even sustainable development. Within this discursive structure, the political subject is reorganized through a binary opposition: “ordinary people / families / children”versus “gender ideology / LGBTQ+ activists / foreign influence / threatening elites.”
Gender and sexuality thus become central terrains upon which the populist distinction between ‘a legitimate people’ and ‘an illegitimate Other’ is constructed. Unal (2024) similarly identifies the distinction between the ‘morally superior us’andthe ‘morally corrupt them’ as central to populist constructions of ‘the people.’ ‘The Other’ is not merely different but is represented as threatening the homogeneous nation. Once positioned outside ‘the good people,’ such groups may become targets of stigmatization through discourse, policy, and legislation.
This framework also explains why cultural panic is politically consequential beyond LGBTQ+ rights themselves (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). By representing gender and sexuality as existential threats to families and children, political actors can encourage voters to prioritize cultural and moral conflicts over material questions such as economic redistribution (Corrales & Kiryk, 2022). Anti-gender mobilization can therefore facilitate a broader political realignment in which disputes concerning sexuality become vehicles for constructing political identities, consolidating coalitions, and legitimizing anti-pluralist politics. The restriction of LGBTQ+ rights is consequently not necessarily the endpoint of homophobic populism; rather, attacks on gender and sexuality may function as an entry point through which broader restrictions on pluralism become politically acceptable.
These distinctions provide an important theoretical foundation for the gendered populism argument in this article that captures a broader process in which gender, sexuality, reproduction, and family are not peripheral themes within populist politics but constitutive mechanisms for defining ‘the people.’ The imagined legitimate citizen is produced relationally against subjects represented as violating normative gender, sexual, reproductive, familial, or moral expectations. Anti-gender discourse therefore does more than identify political enemies: it establishes normative boundaries around belonging.
Unal (2024) identifies three modalities through which political homophobia operated during Turkey’s 2023 election campaign: culturalist and nativist othering at the intersection of Islam and anti-genderism; the vilification of political opponents as “inner enemies”; and movement toward the legal and institutional incorporation of political homophobia. These modalities are particularly significant for understanding how anti-gender discourse can move from rhetorical boundary-making toward institutionalized forms of exclusion.
When this discursive politics becomes embedded in institutions, it intersects with what I conceptualize as gendered authoritarianism. The distinction is analytically important: gendered populism constructs and mobilizes the boundary; gendered authoritarianism institutionalizes and enforces it. The former identifies who supposedly threatens the family, children, morality, nation, or “the people”; the latter can translate those representations into law, policing, prosecution, censorship, surveillance, restrictions on organizations, and other mechanisms of state power. The relationship can therefore be conceptualized as:
If populist anti-gender politics establishes the heteronormative family as a symbolic representation of the legitimate social order, conformity to particular gendered and sexual norms can become intertwined with the conditions of legitimate national membership. Family is therefore not simply something the state claims to protect; it becomes a political template through which ‘the legitimate citizen’ is imagined.
Unal’s (2024) concept of the crisisification of policymaking further helps explain how this boundary-making can become institutionalized. Crisisification describes the transformation of policymaking around a continuing sense of urgency, exceptionality, and insecurity, through which crisis becomes normalized rather than treated as an exceptional condition. Within the framework proposed here, this process provides an important link between gendered populism and gendered authoritarianism: once gender and sexuality are constructed as existential threats to family, morality, and nation, extraordinary forms of state intervention can increasingly be presented as necessary acts of protection.
This framework allows the analysis of Turkey to move from contemporary anti-LGBTQ+ mobilization toward the deeper historical question at the center of this article: How have gender, sexuality, family, religion, ethnicity, and political loyalty historically structured the boundaries between the established citizen and those whose belonging remains conditional, contested, or punishable?
The political function of anti-gender populism is therefore not exhausted by the production of an LGBTQ+ ‘Other.’Through that ‘Other,’ the normative citizenis simultaneously produced. Political homophobia tells us not only who does not belong but also who the state imagines as properly belonging.
Girdap, H. (2026). “Gendered authoritarianism, social death, and state violence in post-2016 Türkiye.” Journal for Humanitarian Conflict Resolution, 1(1).
Girdap, H. (2026). “Contextual racialisation of women in Turkey: Their response through embodied identification.” In: Shilan Fuad Hussain (Ed.), Women, power, and gender in the Middle East. Routledge.
Kahlina, K.; Ristivojevic, D. & Rudgren, H. (2025). “Transnational politics of anti-gender mobilizations.” Redescriptions: Political Thought, Conceptual History and Feminist Theory, 28(1).
Ojeda, T.; Holzberg, B. & Holvikivi, A. (2024). “A transnational feminist approach to anti-gender politics.” In: A. Holvikivi, B. Holzberg, & T. Ojeda (Eds.), Transnational anti-gender politics: Feminist solidarity in times of global attacks (pp. 1–32). Palgrave Macmillan.
Özbay, C. & Soybakis, O. (2020). “Political masculinities: Gender, power, and change in Turkey.” Social Politics: International Studies in Gender, State & Society, 27(1), 27–50.
Sarac, B. N.; Girdap, H. & Hiemstra, N. (2023). “Gendered state violence and post-coup migration out of Turkey.” Women’s Studies International Forum, 99, 102796.
Unlu, B. (2023). “The Turkishness contract and the formation of Turkishness.” In: F. M. Gocek & A. Alemdaroglu (Eds.), Kurds in Dark Times. Syracuse University Press.
In this interview with ECPS, Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde examines how authoritarianism, populism, and democratic backsliding increasingly intersect with struggles over civil society and international norms. She argues that autocracies view independent civic mobilization as a strategic threat because rights-based movements can generate broader networks of resistance. The conversation also explores how conservative and populist actors use transnational networks to contest LGBTQ+ rights, human rights norms, and the role of international organizations. Dr. Valverde highlights the growing polarization of international civil society, the strategic use of migration as interstate leverage, and the resurgence of sovereignty-based challenges to the liberal international order. Together, these developments reveal how democratic erosion increasingly unfolds across both domestic and international arenas.
In an era marked by democratic backsliding, transnational populism, and growing contestation over international norms, the struggle over civic space has become increasingly central to the future of liberal democracy. In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde, Assistant Professor in the Department of International Studies at ITAM in Mexico, argues that authoritarian governments do not merely resist particular rights claims; they are deeply concerned with the broader political capacity that autonomous civil society can generate. As she puts it, “Any rights-based mobilization becomes a focal point around which other regime opponents can build networks to resist the regime’s power.”
This insight lies at the heart of Dr. Valverde’s analysis of authoritarian opposition to LGBTQ+ rights. Drawing on her Journal of Democracy research with Gino Pauselli, she emphasizes that conservative ideology alone cannot explain authoritarian behavior. Their argument instead identifies a threefold logic: “repression of civil society, opposition to the liberal international order, and the instrumental use of conservative ideology.” For Dr. Valverde, the civil-society mechanism is especially revealing because rights-based mobilization can create organizational capacities that extend well beyond a single policy issue. Hence her conclusion that “both liberal and illiberal networks and governments understand civic space access itself as a strategic asset.”
The interview also broadens this argument beyond domestic authoritarianism. International organizations themselves, Dr. Valverde argues, have become arenas of normative competition. Conservative NGOs and governments increasingly use the same institutional channels once associated primarily with progressive advocacy, while seeking to influence judges, commissioners, and policy agendas. What is at stake, she stresses, is “not only outcomes, but also the IO’s function itself.” This process can produce what she calls “neutralization”: weakening an international organization’s capacity to advance norms without formally reversing its previous commitments.
These dynamics are closely connected to populism. Dr. Valverde rejects the idea that populists simply learn from autocracies; she instead points to “shared transnational infrastructure” linking conservative and populist actors across borders. She also warns against reducing democracy to electoral legitimacy. Populist leaders, she notes, often reason that “If I won the election, then I represent the people, and if I represent the people, I can do no wrong.” Such logic, she argues, can rapidly undermine checks and balances and weaken non-elected institutions essential to democracy.
Taken together, the conversation presents civic space not as a secondary democratic concern, but as a core arena in which authoritarianism, populism, human rights, and international order increasingly intersect.
Here is our interview with Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Rights from Above Do Not Empower Civil Society
United Nations headquarters in New York City, US. Photo: Dreamstime.
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde, welcome! YourJournal of Democracyarticle argues that authoritarian governments oppose LGBTQ+ rights not simply because of cultural conservatism but because these rights strengthen civil society, reinforce liberal international norms, and potentially expand spaces for political contestation. This moves the discussion beyond morality into regime survival. To what extent should we understand contemporary anti-LGBTQ+ campaigns as instruments of authoritarian governance rather than merely expressions of conservative ideology?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s a fantastic question, and first of all, thank you very much for your interest in my article with Gino Pauselli in the Journal of Democracy. As scholars, we always dream of being read and of our scholarship being of interest. Responding to your question, I think that the dichotomy is analytically useful, but empirically, maybe it’s too clean. Our article shows that autocracies vote against SOGI, or Sexual Orientation and Gender Identity Resolutions at the United Nations Human Rights Council, over 80% of the time. It explains this through a threefold logic: repression of civil society, opposition to the liberal international order, and the instrumental use of conservative ideology, not ideology alone.
I think that maybe the civil society repression channel is the most diagnostic. Social rights function as a proof of concept that a minority, once granted rights, mobilizes to expand them, or also just to gain them. That, exactly, is a capacity autocracies need to suppress, regardless of the issue. The clearest evidence in our article that the governance logic beyond ideology is what works best is Cuba: an authoritarian government that voted in favor of all five United Nations Human Rights Council social resolutions between 2011 and 2022, while never empowering independent LGBTQ+ civil society. So, rights granted from above, with no domestic accountability and mobilization attached.
So, yes, conservative ideology is one of the three interacting levers in our article, but we think about it as deployed instrumentally, where useful for legitimation and alliance building, and dispensable where regime survival logic points elsewhere, as in Cuba.
Civic Space Is a Strategic Asset
Your explanation places civil society at the center of authoritarian calculations. Rather than fearing LGBTQ+ communities themselves, authoritarian governments appear to fear the broader mobilizational capacity that rights-based movements generate. Does this suggest that authoritarian regimes increasingly perceive all forms of autonomous civic organization as interconnected threats, regardless of the specific issue around which they initially mobilize?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: Yes, I do think so. I think that the mechanism doesn’t necessarily depend on said rights specifically. Any rights-based mobilization becomes a focal point around which other regime opponents can build networks to resist the regime’s power. So, this generalizes empirically to the tools autocracies more generally use, like foreign agent laws, NGO registration barriers, and propaganda status.
I’m currently working on anti-gender network mobilization at the Organization of American States (OAS), which shows the same generalized logic from the opposite ideological direction: conservative civil society networks treating access to international organizations (IOs) as an important focal point for infrastructure building, so, like, for training, coalition formation, and the creation of relevant normative frameworks, independent of any single policy win. And so, I think both liberal and illiberal networks and governments understand civic space access itself as a strategic asset.
Transnational Networks Matter More Than Autocratic Learning
Across Europe and Latin America, populist leaders frequently portray LGBTQ+ rights, gender equality, migration, and multiculturalism as elements of a single ideological project imposed by liberal elites. Do you see evidence that contemporary populists have learned from authoritarian regimes how to transform cultural issues into broader narratives about national sovereignty and democratic legitimacy?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s also a great question. I would resist learning from autocracies as the primary mechanism. It is better explained by shared transnational infrastructure than by diffusion from authoritarian regimes to populist governments.
I’ve been working on gender ideology at the OAS, and that gender ideology, as a concept, is a deliberately elastic floating signifier that articulates SOGI, reproductive rights, education, and public health into a single civilizational frame. In the case of the OAS, that infrastructure is facilitated by some very famous NGOs and networks, like Alliance Defending Freedom, CitizenGo, the International Organization for the Family, and the Congreso por la Vida y la Familia, which train and finance authoritarian-adjacent but also democratically elected populist actors at the same time.
So, I would say that, in the case of Latin America, the populist right couples sovereigntist nationalism with a religiously coded foreign threat, rather than immigration-centered nativism, which is also interesting. But this is a parallel development to the frameworks used and the narratives employed by authoritarian regimes. I wouldn’t say that populist governments learn from authoritarian regimes.
International Norms Create Lasting Institutional Effects
Participants march through the streets during Prague Pride, a major LGBTQ+ parade and celebration, in Prague, Czech Republic, on August 12, 2017. Photo: Madeleine Steinbach.
Your research demonstrates that battles over LGBTQ+ rights increasingly unfold within international organizations, particularly the United Nations Human Rights Council. Some observers assume these debates are largely symbolic. Yet your work suggests they have genuine political consequences. Why do authoritarian governments invest so much diplomatic capital in resisting seemingly non-binding international norms?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s a great question as well. I would say that non-binding norms matter. Non-binding doesn’t mean costless or inconsequential, so precedent accumulates. Also, regarding United Nations Human Rights Council resolutions specifically, they might be non-binding, but at the same time they establish mandates. For example, in the case of SOGI resolutions at the United Nations, they created the Independent Expert on SOGI rights in 2016, whose mandate was renewed by the resolutions of 2019 and 2022. That creates institutional machinery, reporting, monitoring, and a reference point that autocracies correctly read as a foothold for further, maybe even binding, developments.
In the case of autocracies, what happens at the domestic level matters less because of their repression of civil society and the lack of pathways for different domestic actors to influence politics. But in the case of democracies, even non-binding resolutions may serve as mobilization focal points for domestic policy wins. So, non-binding norms have evidently become relevant sites of contestation for both authoritarian regimes and opposing democratic regimes. And that has made such resolutions rare items at the United Nations Human Rights Council because they are consistently forced to a formal vote.
So, unlike the 74% of resolutions passed by consensus at the Council between 2006 and 2020, SOGI resolutions are usually voted on because of the relevance attached to them, and they draw above-average opposition, with up to 43% voting no against a 21% baseline. I would also say that what happens at the United Nations Human Rights Council is relevant as a coordination good for autocracies and other anti-SOGI rights actors themselves, because participation and opposition allow them to build what we can call backlash networks and rehearse a shared vocabulary that travels to other normative fights in international and national forums.
International Organizations Are Arenas of Normative Competition
Your doctoral research examines how civil society gains access to international organizations and transforms access into political influence. At a time when authoritarian governments seek to restrict civic participation both domestically and internationally, have international organizations themselves become contested arenas where democracy and authoritarianism increasingly compete for normative influence?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: Yes, I would say definitely so, and increasingly in more symmetric ways. You mentioned my doctoral thesis, and in my thesis I work on civil society access to international organizations. In my thesis, I show, for example, conservative NGO participation at the Organization of American States (OAS), which is an organization I mentioned before but didn’t quite explain. The OAS is the main regional, multi-purpose organization of the Americas. The United States, Canada, Latin American countries, and the Caribbean countries participate in this organization, and it has been very relevant in terms of normative developments in the human rights arena, as well as in other issues.
In the case of human rights, it has a commission, the Inter-American Commission on Human Rights, and the Inter-American Court of Human Rights, which closely parallels the European Court of Human Rights, if people reading this interview are familiar with the European Court. Individuals can access the Commission and the Court in order to get redress for human rights violations at the national level. And it’s very interesting how the Inter-American human rights system has driven progress on SOGI rights, especially in Latin America.
It, for example, led to the adoption of same-sex marriage in Costa Rica, and that has generated backlash. Conservative NGO participation—anti-SOGI rights NGO participation at the OAS, especially at the General Assembly—went from zero in the 1990s to 128 organizations by 2019, reaching close to a third of civil society participation at its peak, using identical access channels and similar strategies to those of pro-SOGI rights NGOs.
Conservative NGOs and conservative governments are also lobbying for the election of conservative judges and commissioners, so what’s contested is not only outcomes, but also the IO’s function itself.
In a later paper, which builds around my work on my doctoral dissertation, I talk about neutralization, which is disabling an IO as a driver of norm expansion without reversing prior commitments. That’s what we see today at the OAS, where discussions on SOGI rights are being stalled because of backlash and fear of backlash. I think that’s a very interesting development happening at IOs today.
International Civil Society Is More Polarized Than We Thought
Much of the democratic backsliding literature focuses on elections, constitutions, and judicial independence. Your scholarship instead highlights civil society, international norms, and transnational advocacy networks. Has political science underestimated the extent to which democratic erosion occurs through the gradual weakening of societal actors rather than through dramatic institutional change?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: I am a student of international relations, a scholar of international relations, so I would say that, yes, political science has indeed underestimated the extent to which democratic erosion might also be advanced at the international level—at that level, through the weakening of societal actors rather than through dramatic institutional change. I wouldn’t necessarily generalize to research on domestic politics.
But I do think that, at the international level, in international relations, we have tended to think of societal actors as pretty homogeneous. So, most of the literature and research of the 1990s on civil society actors in IOs and transnational advocacy networks focused on pro-progressive human rights actors, or progressive actors more generally. And it was, like, the conventional knowledge that only those actors actually cared about what happened at the international level and accessed the international level to exercise pressure on their domestic governments to advance human rights causes, for example.
We have learned more recently that that’s definitely not the case, and that we even ignored, for a long time, how diverse civil society is, not only at the domestic level but also at the international level, and the polarization dynamics that emerge when civil society organizations that have contrasting ideas on certain topics, like SOGI rights, all access and all try to push forward their agendas in IOs.
I do think that this is a phenomenon that is usually not observed as dramatic institutional change, but rather as something that builds more progressively in IOs, and that has interesting implications for what IOs can do in terms of advancing human rights and advancing democracy. And I think that neutralization, for example, which I already mentioned, is a category that talks about this more nuanced and more progressive, little-by-little institutional change.
‘Backlash Networks’ Are Still Mostly Defensive
In yourJournal of Democracyarticle, you describe how authoritarian governments cooperate internationally to resist the expansion of LGBTQ+ rights through what might be called “backlash networks.” These coalitions appear increasingly coordinated across regions. Are we witnessing the emergence of an alternative international normative order, or are these alliances better understood as defensive coalitions seeking to slow liberal norm diffusion?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: Based on the empirical evidence, I would say that, up until today, the system is more defensive. So, for example, the anti-gender networks’ litigation at the OAS is reactive, no? It tries to diminish the influence of progressive actors at the OAS, for example, by submitting amici curiae in cases brought by others. So, I read that as a response to an unfavorable opportunity structure in the Inter-American human rights system, and that might change over time.
But I do think that, right now, what we see is not reversal yet. I think reversal might happen, but right now, we don’t see decisions at the OAS or at the United Nations Human Rights Council that adopt substantive alternative standards from anti-SOGI rights networks. So, we do not see resolutions regarding, for example, an absolute right to life, or gender ideology being used as a category to talk about a threat, as it is usually framed by anti-SOGI rights actors.
So, rather, we see defensive coalitions seeking to slow liberal norm diffusion, as you mentioned. Influence shows up in stalled agendas and dissenting opinions, not new international norms. That said, I would say that the coordination infrastructure of backlash networks—for example, lobbying for ideologically proximate judges and commissioners at the OAS, training pipelines, and north-south funding flows—is being built for the long run.
And elected officials now sympathetic to these agendas are positioned to eventually build an alternative international normative order. So, I would say that being defensive today and building an alternative order later are not mutually exclusive, and we might see that in the future.
Migration Control Creates Interstate Leverage
Disembarkation of 300 migrants from Libya from the German rescue ship Sea-Watch 3 in Pozzallo, Province of Ragusa, Italy, on June 9, 2022. Photo: Alec Tassi.
Your more recent work introduces the concepts of migration power and migration statecraft, arguing that migration flows themselves have become instruments of interstate influence. This shifts migration from being merely a humanitarian or domestic policy issue to becoming a foreign policy resource. How does this conceptualization change the way political scientists should understand migration in an era of geopolitical competition?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s an interesting question, and also thank you for reading that paper with Natalia Saltalamacchia. In that paper, we reconceptualized migration flows themselves as a power resource, comparable in kind, not just in effect, to more conventional instruments of statecraft.
Using Baldwin’s relational anatomy of power, the key conceptual move is that migration power is constituted, so it exists only because destination states have decided domestically that controlling migration is a vital interest.
So, the target zone securitization of migration is what turns a transit or origin state’s population movements into leverage, or an instrument of statecraft. I think this is interesting. It reframes the weapon of the weak intuition as conditional, not structural. Exercising migration power credibly requires real institutional capacity, so border enforcement and processing infrastructures, which some fragile states lack.
But that’s why we see the strongest cases, like Morocco, Turkey, and Egypt. They are all states with functioning migration bureaucracies. But I do think that it’s an interesting turn to think not necessarily in terms of geopolitical competition. I think it’s more interesting for thinking about North-South relations.
What typically is the leverage that less powerful states have vis-à-vis more powerful states? So, for example, the case of Mexico vis-à-vis the United States. For the United States, for the government of Donald Trump, it is very important that Mexico engages and cooperates with the US in terms of the containment of migrants at the US-Mexico border. That gives Mexico some leverage vis-à-vis the United States, even when we as Mexicans have always been very aware of how asymmetrical our relationship with the US is. So, it’s very interesting to think about how North-South dynamics change when this leverage exists on the side of southern countries, and this leverage is, paradoxically, created in part by northern states that see migration as a threat.
Migration has increasingly become a bargaining tool in relations between states—from the Belarus–EU border crisis to Turkey’s agreements with the European Union and Morocco’s management of migration toward Spain. Does your framework suggest that migration is evolving into a standard instrument of statecraft comparable to sanctions, trade policy, or energy diplomacy?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: I am not a scholar of migration, but I think this is a conceptual article. It is trying to provide some analytical tools and some relevant concepts to understand dynamics that we are indeed observing today, including some of the relevant empirical examples you just mentioned. I would also mention the very recent crisis regarding Morocco-Spain relations in Ceuta. In late July, thousands of people left Morocco and tried to reach Spain through Ceuta, which is a Spanish territory, in an enormous flow of people that unfortunately had terrible humanitarian consequences, because many of those migrants died.
What probably happened, given the enormous number of people crossing at the same time, was that the Moroccan government facilitated the crossing, or encouraged the crossing, to exercise political pressure on Spain. Migration is being used as an instrument of statecraft. I would compare it to energy sanctions or trade policy. In this case, the one that can exercise migration statecraft is the less powerful state, which doesn’t necessarily happen with all types of statecraft. Obviously, it varies.
I just want to finish the comment by recognizing also how problematic this is in terms of ethics. Because what we’re talking about is people’s lives. Exercising migration contention, or facilitating migration flows to exercise pressure on other states, depends on governments mobilizing or containing people who are trying to move across borders to have access to better living conditions. Migration statecraft is very problematic in this sense, but it’s something that we are observing today in the world, and that it’s important to name.
Populism and Migration Diplomacy Reinforce Each Other
Populist leaders often frame migration as an existential domestic threat, while governments simultaneously employ migration strategically in international negotiations. How do these two dimensions interact? Are domestic populist narratives and international migration statecraft increasingly reinforcing one another?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s a great question, and I think the two are indeed mutually reinforcing through the co-constitution mechanism at the center of Natalia Saltalamacchia’s and my article. Populist domestic narratives that frame migration as an existential threat are precisely what increase the value states place on migration control. That value, in turn, creates leverage that other states can exploit.
So, the causal relationship runs both ways. When migration statecraft succeeds, the episode can also be interpreted domestically as confirmation that migration is indeed the existential threat populists have described, thereby reinforcing the very narrative that generated the vulnerability in the first place. This creates a feedback loop with no obvious breaker.
The more governments perform toughness on migration for domestic audiences, the more valuable migration becomes as a lever for whoever controls the migration flow. That’s a genuinely understudied dynamic linking the populism and migration diplomacy literatures, which have generally developed separately.
The Liberal Order Is Being Challenged from Within
From Left: Hungary PM Viktor Orban, Poland PM Beata Szydlo, Czech PM Bohuslav Sobotka and Slovakia PM Robert Fico pose prior their meeting in Prague on February 15, 2016.
Throughout your scholarship, there is an ongoing tension between universal human rights and state sovereignty. In today’s geopolitical environment, where sovereignty has re-emerged as a central political slogan for both populist and authoritarian governments, has the balance between these principles shifted in ways that fundamentally challenge the post-Cold War liberal international order?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: That’s also a great question. I would start by recognizing that the tension between universal human rights and state sovereignty has always existed. What universal human rights seek to achieve is to protect citizens from abuses of power by their own governments. There has therefore always been this very interesting tension between international human rights norms, institutions, and mechanisms, on the one hand, and state sovereignty, on the other, because when IOs or other states criticize a country’s human rights record, they are addressing a deeply internal matter: how a government treats its own citizens. So, this is not new.
However, I do think that the sovereignty-based justification for opposing international human rights norms has become more salient in the last couple of years because of the turn toward more nationalist governments in much of the world, and also because of the rise of authoritarian governments. These governments are, of course, particularly opposed to universal human rights norms and to international actors expressing opinions about or criticizing their domestic records, because they frequently violate human rights. That’s a basic trait of authoritarianism.
But yes, this is also because they want to maintain very tight control over domestic civil society. So, I would say that, yes, definitely, this tension has become more salient over time, and this does challenge the post-Cold War liberal international order. We must also recognize that it is not only authoritarian governments or populist governments in the Global South that are opposing or contesting universal human rights. Some of the main proponents of the liberal international order itself are also doing so, with the United States being the most relevant case.
So, besides normative contestation at IOs, we must also look at what happens, for example, with funding in the next couple of years. There is a real threat that international institutions may no longer be able to deliver in areas such as monitoring mechanisms because funding that has traditionally been provided by the United States may no longer be available. I think this is also a highly relevant dynamic, beyond the more discursive contestation of universal human rights norms.
Winning Elections Is Not Enough for Democracy
Your work on civil society implicitly broadens the concept of political representation beyond elected institutions. Many populist leaders claim that elections alone provide sufficient democratic legitimacy. Yet your research suggests that democratic governance also depends upon organized civic participation and international advocacy. Should we rethink democratic representation as extending well beyond electoral politics?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: Yes, I would say it is a fundamental, core trait of populist governments to associate democratic legitimacy almost entirely with the electoral mandate, and that’s obviously worrisome. It leads populist leaders to say, “If I won the election, then I represent the people, and if I represent the people, I can do no wrong.” That kind of logic can quickly lead to dynamics of democratic erosion, for example, at the domestic level, by contesting and weakening non-elected officials who are also fundamental to democracy. A particularly emblematic case is the judiciary.
So, we must consider that democratic representation extends well beyond electoral politics and also depends on checks and balances on elected leaders, however large their mandates might be. We traditionally think of those checks and balances as domestic, and those are obviously the most relevant ones—for example, what happens at the legislative and judicial levels. But I think the international system also matters as a check and balance on the actions of domestic governments, especially in the case of human rights and other international commitments that the international community has a legitimate interest in upholding.
Gender Ideology Bundles Multiple Political Conflicts
The political contestation surrounding LGBTQ+ rights increasingly overlaps with debates about migration, gender equality, reproductive rights, and academic freedom. Do you see these issues gradually converging into a broader global struggle over the meaning of democracy itself, rather than remaining separate policy debates?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: It’s a very interesting question. There is definitely some convergence across the issue agendas you mentioned. I would not necessarily describe it as a struggle over the meaning of democracy itself, but there is certainly a real convergence in the way these issues are framed.
For example, in my research on the OAS, I examine the use of gender ideology as a unifying concept among populist-right actors and conservative NGOs. In that context, it functions as a deliberately elastic floating signifier that allows the same coalition to move across different topics—including education, public health, SOGI rights, and reproductive rights—without losing coherence.
Populist sovereigntist rhetoric performs a similar bundling function in relation to issues such as migration and multiculturalism. But I would caution against treating all of this as one undifferentiated struggle. The actors, mechanisms, and even regime-type correlations differ from one issue to another.
For example, the relationship between autocracy and LGBTQ+ rights is very robust, as we have already discussed, and autocracies are very likely to oppose SOGI rights. Migration statecraft, by contrast, operates differently. In the case of migration, it is wielded by both democracies and autocracies with roughly symmetric logics.
And regarding the meaning of democracy itself, I would say that the dispute is not so much about democracy being destroyed as about how much democracy actually matters and whether democratic regimes are still considered necessary. It is also about whether we still need the international system and the liberal international order that was constructed after World War II. Two main issues definitely contested across these different, issue agendas.
Populist-Right Trends Are Converging Across Regions
Nested dolls depicting authoritarian and populist leaders Vladimir Putin, Donald Trump, and Recep Tayyip Erdogan displayed among souvenirs in Moscow on July 7, 2018. Photo: Shutterstock.
Having worked extensively on Latin American politics while engaging broader comparative questions, do you believe Latin America offers distinctive insights into democratic resilience that Europe and North America often overlook? Conversely, are there emerging authoritarian strategies in Europe that may increasingly influence political developments across Latin America?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: I would actually say that the current trends in Europe and Latin America are quite similar. We are seeing a rise of populist-right governments in both regions. In Latin America, over the past few months, we have seen the election of Alberto de la Espriella in Colombia and Kast in Chile. Elections are coming up in October in Brazil, and it’s unclear whether the Bolsonaros will return to government or whether Lula will be re-elected. We also see this turn in Argentina with Milei—this is not just a development of the last couple of months, but of the last couple of years.
We also see right-wing governments associated with Fujimori in Peru and with Noboa in Ecuador. And there is a broader trend, at least in the Western world, toward these right-wing governments. We might even think of them as forming a kind of transnational coalition, in the sense that there are links between different far-right and populist-right actors at both the European and Latin American levels.
For example, the influence of the Spanish far right in Latin America is very interesting. In Spain, the far right is represented by Vox, which also has a civil society branch, CitizenGo. CitizenGo and Vox have very interesting links to the populist right in Latin America, including support for political campaigns. Some of the narratives they employ are also copied and used in Latin American countries, and CitizenGo provides funding to Latin American conservative civil society organizations.
So, there are definitely political developments in both regions influencing one another. I don’t know whether Latin America offers distinctive insights into democratic resilience. I’m actually very concerned about current political developments in the region, and our institutions are weaker than those in most European countries. We will see how institutions respond to the democratic erosion dynamics that may emerge across Latin America in the next few years, and how those processes compare with developments in Europe. But the jury is still out on this particular question.
Backsliding and Institutional Backlash Are Increasingly Intertwined
And lastly, Professor Valverde, taken together, your scholarship examines civil society, international organizations, migration, human rights, and democratic governance from multiple perspectives. Looking ahead, which emerging development—whether democratic backsliding, transnational populism, migration diplomacy, digital disinformation, geopolitical fragmentation, or the weakening of international institutions—do you believe will most profoundly reshape the future of liberal democracy over the next decade, and where should scholars concentrate their attention?
Dr. María José Urzúa Valverde: I am particularly interested in democratic backsliding processes and in how international institutions might lock in certain international commitments to preserve international norms such as human rights norms, or whether they will fail to play this relevant locking role, which is something that has been theorized in international relations.
So, for example, there are some very famous articles from the 1990s, especially the one by Andrew Moravcsik on how transitioning democracies lock in international commitments in order to prevent future governments from backsliding, because there is already an international commitment to uphold. He writes about this in the context of European countries committing to the European human rights system.
I think that we are at an interesting time to test that theory and to see whether the international system will provide some safeguards against democratic backsliding, but also how international organizations and international institutions more generally will be—and already are—arenas of contestation over issues related to democratic backsliding, but also to the more general upholding of international human rights norms.
I think it’s a very interesting time to study, both from the perspective of comparative politics and from international relations, how these dynamics of democratic backsliding and the backlash against international institutions interact.
In this reflective Voice of Youth commentary marking Rohingya Genocide Remembrance Day on August 25, PS Ayaas, a young Rohingya writer, activist, and community advocate, examines the enduring relationship between genocide, statelessness, exclusion, and political belonging. Drawing on the Rohingya experience, Ayaas argues that the 2017 violence cannot be separated from decades of citizenship restrictions, majoritarian nationalism, and narratives that constructed a minority population as an alien “other.” He connects this history to broader debates on populism, showing how exclusionary definitions of the “people” can normalize discrimination and undermine democratic protections. Moving beyond remembrance, Ayaas calls for accountability, equal rights, recognized education, sustainable livelihoods, meaningful Rohingya participation, and conditions for voluntary and dignified return. His central message is unequivocal: remembrance must become responsibility, and belonging must never be conditional.
Every August 25, I remember a day that did not end when the gunfire stopped. For Rohingya families, August 25 is not simply a date in history. It is carried in memory: in the stories of parents, in the names of villages, in photographs saved after flight, and in the silence that sometimes follows a question about home. I was still a child when I first understood that leaving home could mean never knowing when, or whether, you would see it again.
Rohingya communities mark August 25 as Genocide Remembrance Day to honor those who were killed, those who survived, and those who continue to live with displacement. But remembrance also asks a harder political question: how did an entire population come to be treated as if it did not belong?
From Violence to Exclusion
The violence of 2017 cannot be understood as an isolated eruption. It emerged from a much longer history of legal, political and social exclusion. Rohingya communities in Myanmar faced restrictions on citizenship, movement, education, marriage and livelihoods long before the mass displacement of 2017.
The UN Independent International Fact-Finding Mission on Myanmar documented the scale and systematic character of abuses committed during the 2017 military operations. It reported that more than 700,000 Rohingya fled to Bangladesh and documented killings, sexual violence and the burning of villages. UN human-rights investigators also recorded patterns of violence and deliberate actions that created fear and drove Rohingya civilians from their homes.
This history matters because genocide does not begin only when the world sees bodies or burning villages. It can be preceded by years of making a population politically disposable: denying people a secure legal identity, portraying them as outsiders, restricting their movement and normalising discrimination.
The 1982 Citizenship Law became a central part of this exclusionary structure. Rohingya were increasingly treated not as a recognised national community but as foreigners in the place many had always called home. The political message was devastatingly simple: you may live here, but you do not fully belong here.
The Politics of “Us” vs “Them”
This is where the Rohingya story becomes relevant to the study of populism. Populist politics often divides society into a morally pure “people” and an allegedly dangerous “other.” The boundaries of the “people” can be constructed through ethnicity, religion, race or nationality. Once a minority is portrayed as an existential demographic, cultural or security threat, exclusion can be presented not as discrimination but as protection.
Myanmar’s experience shows how dangerous this logic can become when it interacts with majoritarian nationalism, state power and organized violence. Anti-Muslim and anti-Rohingya narratives did not remain confined to rhetoric. They helped create an environment in which discrimination could be normalized, and extraordinary violence could be justified. This does not mean that every aspect of the Rohingya crisis can be explained by populism. Military authoritarianism, ethnic nationalism, citizenship policy, colonial legacies, local conflicts and political economy all matter. But the construction of an “authentic” national community while defining a minority as alien offers an important lens.
The danger is not limited to Myanmar. Across the world, migrants, refugees and minorities can be turned into symbols of national decline or threats to social cohesion. When political actors persuade citizens that rights belong primarily to the “real people” and that minorities are outsiders who deserve fewer protections, democratic institutions become vulnerable. The Rohingya experience is therefore not only a humanitarian story; it is also a warning about what happens when belonging becomes conditional.
Remembering What Statistics Cannot Say
More than 700,000 Rohingya crossed into Bangladesh following the 2017 violence. In 2026, UNHCR reported that around 1.2 million stateless Rohingya remained in Bangladesh. Numbers are essential for policy, but numbers cannot tell us what displacement feels like. A statistic cannot describe a mother deciding what to carry when a lifetime must fit into a few possessions. It cannot describe a child growing up knowing the name of a village he or she has never seen. It cannot capture the psychological weight of living in a place that is simultaneously a refuge and a reminder that the original home remains inaccessible.
Nine years after the mass displacement, displacement has become a childhood, an adolescence and, for many young Rohingya, almost an entire lifetime. Humanitarian assistance remains essential, but humanitarian assistance alone cannot constitute a political solution. UNHCR reported in 2026 that limited livelihood opportunities left Rohingya refugees heavily dependent on aid.
This creates a dangerous paradox. The international community says that the future should ultimately be sustainable, while policies surrounding displacement can leave young people with too few opportunities to acquire recognized education, build livelihoods or participate meaningfully in decisions affecting their lives.
Home Is More Than a Location
For many Rohingya, return to Myanmar remains the deepest expression of hope. But “return” cannot simply mean crossing a border. A return that leaves people stateless, unsafe, segregated or without freedom of movement would reproduce the conditions that made displacement possible. A sustainable return requires citizenship or an effective legal status guaranteeing equal rights, physical security, freedom of movement, access to education and healthcare, protection of property and meaningful participation in public life.
International law has already placed important obligations on Myanmar. In January 2020, the International Court of Justice (ICJ) ordered provisional measures requiring Myanmar to take measures within its power to prevent acts within the scope of Article II of the Genocide Convention and to preserve evidence. In July 2022, the Court rejected Myanmar’s preliminary objections and confirmed that the case could proceed. The proceedings are not a substitute for political action, but they demonstrate that the Rohingya question is not simply a matter of humanitarian charity. It is also a matter of international law, accountability and rights. The Rohingya should therefore not be asked to choose between justice and return, or between hope and realism. A genuine pathway home must combine both.
A Future Cannot Be Built in a Waiting Room
The greatest danger of protracted displacement is that waiting becomes normal. A child who has spent nine years in a refugee settlement is not living through a temporary interruption. Those years are education, adolescence, friendships and formative memories. A generation can lose opportunities while governments continue to describe its situation as temporary. Durable solutions must therefore be broader than repatriation alone. First, Rohingya children and young people need meaningful, recognized and continuous education. Second, refugees need safe and lawful opportunities to develop skills and livelihoods rather than being treated as permanently dependent. Third, Rohingya representatives — especially women and young people — must have meaningful roles in discussions about return, protection, education, resettlement and reconstruction.
Third-country pathways should also be discussed honestly where appropriate, without turning resettlement into a substitute for the right to return. Different Rohingya families may have different futures. Some may return when conditions permit; some may pursue resettlement; others may build lives in Bangladesh or elsewhere. A rights-based approach must respect those choices rather than forcing one political solution upon an entire people.
Remembering As Resistance
On August 25, remembrance is more than mourning. It is a refusal to allow political violence to erase political responsibility. To remember is to say that the dead had names. The villages had names. The families had histories. The people who fled were not an anonymous mass. They were citizens, neighbors, students, farmers, teachers, parents and children whose lives were interrupted by violence and exclusion.
It is also to say that the story did not end at the Bangladesh border. The crisis continues in displacement, statelessness, insecurity in Rakhine State, shrinking humanitarian resources and the uncertainty of a generation growing up without a secure relationship to home. Remembrance is therefore a challenge to the international community. If the world recognizes atrocities but allows the political conditions that produced them to remain, remembrance becomes ritual without prevention.
The lesson of August 25 is not simply “never forget.” It is “never normalize.” Do not normalize statelessness. Do not normalize indefinite displacement. Do not normalize political narratives that define minorities as less deserving of rights. Do not normalize a humanitarian crisis that has lasted so long that an entire generation has grown up inside it.
A Future in Which Belonging Is Not Conditional
I still think about home. For my generation, home is sometimes a place we remember through our parents’ stories. It is a landscape inherited through memory. But home should not have to remain only a memory.
The future of the Rohingya should not be decided by the logic that excluded us in the first place. We should not be forced to prove that we deserve to belong. We should not have to choose between dignity and survival.
A meaningful future requires accountability for grave crimes, equal rights, political inclusion, education and livelihoods, and conditions that make return genuinely voluntary, safe, dignified and sustainable. It also requires listening to Rohingya people themselves.
Every August 25, the world is invited to remember what happened. It must do more than remember. It must understand how exclusion was built, how an “other” was created, how violence became possible, and how those patterns can be prevented elsewhere.
Remembrance is the beginning of responsibility. And responsibility means building a future in which no child has to learn that belonging can be taken away.
PS Ayaasis a young Rohingya writer, activist and community advocate based in Cox’s Bazar, Bangladesh. He is the founder of Refugee Wellness Mission, a youth-led initiative supporting community wellbeing, and currently pursuing a Bachelor of Health Science through the University of the People. His writing addresses displacement, statelessness, and the lived experience of the Rohingya community, drawing on volunteer work with organizations including BRAC and Save the Children, and participation in international fellowships focused on human rights, health, and youth empowerment. He speaks English, Bengali, Burmese, Hindi, and Rohingya. His work has previously appeared with the European Center for Populism Studies and Mixed Migration Center. Email: rohingyapubgsquad@gmail.com
Professor Justin Gest argues that democratic resilience depends not only on institutions but also on the citizens who remain to sustain them. In this ECPS interview, Professor Gest discusses his concept of “democratic drain”—the depletion of liberal democratic political capital through emigration—and explains how large-scale departures can weaken resistance to populist and authoritarian backsliding. He warns that democracies are “highly susceptible to demographic change” and that the phenomenon is spreading beyond its European “poster child” to countries including Turkey, Israel, India, and potentially the United States. Professor Gest also examines immigration politics, demographic ageing, and populist mobilization, arguing that migration should be framed in terms of the national interest and that “the way countries treat their most vulnerable” is indicative of the state of their democracy.
In an era when democratic backsliding is typically diagnosed through institutional erosion—the weakening of courts, legislatures, electoral safeguards, and checks on executive power—Professor Justin Gest directs attention to a less visible but potentially consequential force: the changing composition of the citizenry itself. Professor and Director of the Public Policy Program at George Mason University’s Schar School of Policy and Government and the award-winning author of seven books, including Democratic Drain: Global Migration and the Struggle for Democracy, Professor Gest argues that understanding democratic resilience requires taking demographic change seriously. “What I think has been missing is the human dimension,” he tells the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), emphasizing that democracies “are also highly susceptible to demographic change.”
At the heart of Professor Gest’s argument is what he calls a “depletion effect”: when citizens with liberal democratic values leave in large numbers, their departure can diminish the political and civic resources available to resist authoritarianism. Migration remains, he stresses, “an expression of human freedom and human agency,” yet hundreds of thousands or millions of individual decisions to leave can produce “a very significant collective effect.” The result is a provocative reconsideration of emigration not simply as individual mobility, but as a process capable of reshaping the democratic prospects of countries of origin.
This dynamic may also strengthen populist and authoritarian governments. Professor Gest argues that the depletion of democratic human capital can allow “populist governments or authoritarian-leaning governments to get away with the backsliding” that might otherwise have been politically punished. Europe remains “the poster child for democratic drain,” particularly Central and Eastern Europe, but Professor Gest sees the phenomenon broadening to countries including Turkey, Israel, India, and potentially the United States. Indeed, he warns that “we are seeing the beginnings of a democratic drain in the United States,” even as American institutions, civic associations, and the judiciary continue to provide important sources of resilience.
The interview also situates democratic drain within the wider politics of migration, populism, and demographic transformation. Professor Gest argues that immigration politics is “principally driven by political entrepreneurs” and challenges narratives of invasion and chaos, while advocating immigration as a pursuit of the national interest. Most importantly, migration governance itself becomes a democratic test. “The way countries treat their most vulnerable,”Professor Gest argues, including foreigners and ethnic or religious minorities, “is indicative of the state of their democracy”—an observation he says may constitute an indictment of several countries, including the United States.
Here is the revised version of our interview with Professor Justin Gest, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Democracies Are Highly Susceptible to Demographic Change
People shop in Gamla Stan (Old Town) in Stockholm, Sweden on August 23, 2018.
Professor Gest, welcome! Your recent Journal of Democracy article challenges the conventional literature on democratic backsliding by arguing that scholars have focused too heavily on institutional erosion while overlooking the political consequences of selective emigration. In many ways, you shift the analytical focus from what governments do to who remains within the polity. Do you see democratic drain as a complementary mechanism within existing theories of democratic erosion, or are you proposing a fundamentally new paradigm that requires us to rethink how democratic resilience itself should be conceptualized?
Professor Justin Gest: That’s a great question. No, I see this as complementary rather than a fundamentally new paradigm. There has been some excellent scholarship on the prospects for democratization, the forces that drive it, and the forces that generate backlash. What I think has been missing is the human dimension. Democracies, for all their institutions and their susceptibility to structural change, are also highly susceptible to demographic change.
So, if there is—as I argue and demonstrate—this depletion effect, whereby people with liberal democratic values leave a country in large numbers, that, too, will have consequences. It complements, supplements, and helps contextualize the institutional changes that scholars have traditionally focused on.
Migration Is an Expression of Human Freedom and Human Agency
One of the article’s most original contributions is its reinterpretation of Albert Hirschman’s “Exit, Voice, and Loyalty.” Traditionally, exit has been viewed as an individual response to political dissatisfaction. Your argument suggests that, when aggregated, millions of individual exits become a collective political force with systemic consequences. Does this imply that emigration should no longer be understood merely as a personal freedom but also as a phenomenon carrying democratic externalities? How should liberal democracies reconcile the individual’s right to leave with the collective costs that large-scale democratic exit may impose on countries of origin?
Professor Justin Gest: I certainly don’t think that we should be blaming anyone for making these very personal choices, and I don’t think we should be restricting them from doing so. Ultimately, migration is an expression of human freedom and human agency, of instantiating the democracy, the rights, and the freedoms that people want. But it is certainly complicated because of the effect that it has on the prospects for future democracy in the countries that people leave behind. And, of course, one person, one family, or one household’s decision doesn’t change a country. But when hundreds of thousands or even millions of people make the same choice, then that can have a very significant collective effect.
Your work implicitly treats democracy as something sustained not only by constitutions and institutions but also by what might be called democratic human capital—citizens willing to organize, protest, deliberate, and defend democratic norms. Has political science underestimated the demographic foundations of democratic resilience? Should future democracy indices begin measuring civic composition alongside institutional quality? In other words, can a democracy remain institutionally intact while gradually losing the civic foundations necessary for its long-term survival?
Professor Justin Gest: Yes, it certainly could. And it would be brilliant to be able to measure this. It does take some monitoring, but in many ways, the large-scale departure of people with democratic political values could be a signal of what’s to come in fragile democracies, or even not-so-fragile democracies. So, it would be wise to measure these things. It’s not especially costly. These are data that are collected and can be collected via regular survey research. It can be very predictive of the prospects for democracy thereafter.
When You Have Brain Drain, You’re Also Encountering Some Democratic Drain
Brain drain. Photo: Francesco Scatena / Dreamstime.
Your concept deliberately extends—but also departs from—the classic literature onbrain drain. Highly educated citizens are not necessarily the same people as those most committed to democratic participation. Conceptually, what distinguishes democratic drain from brain drain, and what does each explain that the other cannot?
Professor Justin Gest: That’s a great question. Brain drain is a reference to the phenomenon of the departure and depletion of economic capital when immigrants leave. They take their intellectual capital, their ideas, and their skill set with them when they leave. What democratic drain is looking at is a phenomenon of political capital—the departure of people with certain values and proclivities.
These two very well overlap. People with democratic values tend to have middling levels of education compared to their countrymen. So it is very likely that there’s a lot of overlap—that when you have brain drain, you’re also encountering some democratic drain.
What they predict is really different because brain drain has been shown to be accompanied by what’s called a brain gain, where people can remit the ideas and the things that they learn from abroad, and in some cases the money that they make from abroad, into capital investment, remittances, and social remittances back home. It’s not clear that it’s so easy to diffuse democracy across borders in the same way. Diaspora politics are certainly lively and active, but how impactful they are in actually creating regime changes is really more dubious.
Democratic Drain and Authoritarian Resilience
Your findings suggest that politically engaged, educated, and internationally connected citizens are often the most likely to emigrate from countries experiencing democratic decline. Could this selective emigration unintentionally strengthen populist and authoritarian movements by reshaping not only the electorate but also the broader ecology of civil society? In other words, does democratic drain help explain why some populist governments appear to become electorally stronger even as dissatisfaction with their governance increases?
Professor Justin Gest: The short answer is yes. That’s, in many ways, precisely what I expect and what I observe. Because of that decline of human capital, because of that depletion, it basically allows populist governments or authoritarian-leaning governments to get away with the backsliding that we otherwise would be observing and that would otherwise be punished, potentially, if, in the counterfactual, those immigrants had never left.
One possible criticism is that emigration merely reflects democratic decline rather than contributing to it. How confident are you that democratic drain becomes a self-reinforcing mechanism of authoritarian resilience rather than simply another consequence of poor governance? What evidence would most convincingly establish that causal relationship?
Professor Justin Gest: That’s a really good question. I think it’s likely to be both. You have certain democratic-leaning, liberal-leaning citizens who are very alert to changes and quick to respond when they see that there is further decline in the future, when they anticipate that decline. So, that is possible. That is certainly possible.
In my own research, there’s good evidence to suggest that elections that place people into office who have authoritarian leanings trigger people to want to leave. In that case, we observe that it comes after. However, what I also observe in the book is that there’s everyday migration of people who are not triggered by politics but are actually triggered by economic opportunities, by the opportunity to reunify with family members, loved ones, and relatives, or by people pursuing their educations abroad. Those people are not leaving for political reasons, and they are leaving in large numbers before any authoritarian backsliding might be taking place.
So, it’s likely to be both. It’s likely that more economically driven and family-driven migration is taking place independently of political backsliding. But there are also responses to political backsliding as well.
Nostalgic Deprivation Helps Explain That Backlash
A Trump supporter holds up a “Make America Great Again” sign at presidential candidate Donald Trump’s rally in the convention center in Sioux City, Iowa, on November 6, 2016. Photo: Mark Reinstein.
Across your work—from “Roots of the Radical Right”to your comparative research on nostalgic deprivation—you argue that perceptions of social, political, and economic decline shape populist support. How do these earlier findings relate toDemocratic Drain? Do you see nostalgic deprivation and democratic drain as two sides of the same process: one explaining why citizens embrace populism, the other explaining why others decide to leave?
Professor Justin Gest: That’s a really interesting point. Rarely do I deliberately connect my books together. They are certainly contributing to what we are witnessing, yes. And they are, in some ways, two sides of the same coin, because one of the biggest paradoxes of democratic drain is that when immigrants come over to the destination country, they are bringing with them ostensibly liberal, democratic political capital that they’re removing from their country of origin.
However, they’re not necessarily creating a sort of democratic renaissance in the country of destination. They’re not necessarily seeing those values enrich the democracy where they’re going. Quite the opposite: we have seen in many examples across the world today that immigrants’ arrival actually triggers a populist authoritarian backlash.
And so, yes, I think that nostalgic deprivation, which yearns for an earlier period, helps explain that backlash. But technically we’re talking about two different groups of people. We’re talking about one group of people who are remaining in their country of origin and witnessing the arrival of immigrants, and the other is referring to the immigrants themselves and their countries of origin.
Management, Order, and Control Do Not Prevent a Country from Being Open to Migration
Throughout Europe, mainstream parties have increasingly adopted stricter positions on immigration, often in an effort to contain the electoral rise of the radical right. From a comparative perspective, does this strategy reduce support for populist challengers, or does it instead contribute to the normalization of their political agenda?
Professor Justin Gest: It’s a really good, important question. I think it depends on how it’s being done by mainstream parties. I certainly think that mainstream, and particularly center-left, parties have been very politically vulnerable to attacks and criticism that they are too lenient about migration and that their approaches lead to chaos or, at least, to indiscriminate admissions policies. In some cases that might be fair.
I think that many center-left parties have historically been reluctant to talk about management, control, and order, using words like these on the campaign trail and in the design of their policies. But management, order, and control do not prevent a country from being open to migration. Having managed, controlled, and orderly flows of people coming in and out does not mean that you’re stopping people from coming in and out. It just means that you actually are in control of it. It means that you’re being discriminatory in who you are letting in and whether they support national political and policy goals, and who do not.
So I think that, yes, ostensibly it does legitimize what some of the far-right and populist parties are saying, but not in a way that necessarily obviates or prevents center-left and center-right parties from facilitating the normal flows of immigrants coming in and out of their borders. So, it’s complicated. It really does depend on the governments.
Certainly, there are going to be a lot of lazy politicians that ape what they hear on the far right rather than actually thinking about how to mechanically manage an orderly immigration system. Shame on those lazy politicians. But, it doesn’t have to be that way.
Immigration Is a Very Emotional Political Subject Matter
Your work has consistently shown that demographic change becomes politically consequential when it is interpreted through narratives of identity and belonging. To what extent is the contemporary success of populist movements driven by demographic realities themselves, and to what extent by the political entrepreneurs who frame those realities as existential threats?
Professor Justin Gest: I think it’s principally driven by political entrepreneurs. What research has shown—not my own personal research, but others’—is that the general public is broadly not very numerate when it comes to the extent to which immigrants are arriving at borders, especially in a really big country like Germany, the United Kingdom, France, or the United States.
These are large countries where immigrants can blend in very easily and diffuse across big cities and smaller suburbs. So, it’s largely a feeling. Immigration is a very emotional political subject matter, and far-right political entrepreneurs have told people that their countries are being invaded. They’ve told people of chaos and massive influxes of people coming into the country.
There certainly have been increases, and there certainly has been an upward trajectory in numerous places, particularly when you put it as a share of the national population, which is often declining due to aging and lower fertility rates. But it’s certainly not the chaos and the invasion that people are describing. So, broadly, I would say that this is driven by political entrepreneurs, even if the numbers do have an upward trend.
Immigration Should Be Framed as a Pursuit of the National Interest
A group of war refugees walks through a cornfield on the Serbia-Croatia border on November 3, 2015, as they seek passage to the EU. Many are Syrian refugees fleeing conflict. Photo: Ajdin Kamber.
Recent demographic projections suggest that aging societies across North America, Europe, and East Asia will increasingly depend on immigration to sustain economic growth and labor markets, even as anti-immigration politics continue to gain electoral traction. Migration is therefore often presented either as an economic necessity or as a political and cultural threat. Your scholarship suggests that this binary is overly simplistic. How do you explain the growing disconnect between demographic realities and political demand, and how should democratic societies approach migration if the objective is to preserve democratic legitimacy, social cohesion, and long-term economic sustainability?
Professor Justin Gest: They should really switch to a lens on immigration that is much more directly related to the national interest. I think that so much of the debate around immigration, and in some cases the policy design, has really been framing immigration as a humanitarian act—that immigration systems are rescuing vulnerable, susceptible, and weak people from poorer and conflict-driven societies.
And certainly humanitarian migration is an element of many countries’ immigration programs, and a very important one, I’ll say, and one that I think we ought to expand. However, the vast majority of immigrants do not fit that profile.
Immigrants are some of the most significant contributors to our economies, to the enrichment of our societies, and to the sustainability of our populations. And so, bringing them in is not doing anyone any favors except the country itself. I should say it’s doing everyone a favor, including the country itself. So, framing immigration as a pursuit of the national interest is the best and most accurate way to be pursuing it politically.
How Countries Treat Migrants Is Indicative of the State of Their Democracy
In your work on migrant rights and immigration governance, you argue that migration policy reflects broader democratic values rather than simply border management. Do you believe the treatment of migrants has become an increasingly reliable indicator of the health of democratic institutions?
Professor Justin Gest: To some extent it has been. I think there are exceptions where you have a not very democratic institution facilitating the humane entry and exit of immigrants with minimal violations of their rights. A place like that could be Singapore. I’d say Singapore is more of an exception, though.
Certainly, Singapore’s rights profile is not perfect. It’s not what you’d see in a place like Denmark or France. In Denmark, interestingly, they have an excellent rights profile and a very strong democracy, but their policies towards immigrants have become steadily less generous over time. But they’re not violating anyone’s rights, at least certainly not to the extent that we see in other countries.
So, yes, I do think that the way countries treat their most vulnerable, and treat people who are from other places who are members of ethnic or religious minorities, who are foreigners, is indicative of the state of their democracy. That’s probably an indictment of a number of countries, including the United States and its decline democratically over the last 10 years.
Much of your research emphasizes that public attitudes toward immigration are shaped not only by economic realities but also by political narratives and elite framing. In an era of misinformation and social media, have political entrepreneurs become more influential than demographic realities themselves in shaping public perceptions of migration?
Professor Justin Gest: Without a question, yes.
Immigration Is a Way of Creating a Sort of Population Equilibrium Globally
Across advanced democracies, governments increasingly face a paradox: ageing populations and labor shortages make immigration economically necessary, while anti-immigration politics remain electorally attractive. Is this contradiction becoming one of the defining governance challenges for contemporary liberal democracies?
Professor Justin Gest: It has been one of the most fundamental and intractable challenges, certainly. But my prescription really relates to what I said earlier about reframing this as a national interest. I think that each policy should be framed in such a way that the public understands that when the state is admitting people they’re not doing immigrants a favor without actually pursuing the national interest as well.
Immigration is where these different interests become mutual. They come together. And that’s one of the most wonderful things about this. It’s particularly poignant at this moment in demographic history, because we have Global North countries, fundamentally or primarily, that are experiencing rapid aging and very severe drops in fertility rates. And we have many countries in the Global South, in lower-income countries, that are experiencing population booms that are unsustainable, given their economies and their ability to give people jobs.
So, actually, immigration is a way of creating a sort of population equilibrium globally, while also addressing critical problems for politicians and public officials in both the Global South and the Global North.
We Are Seeing the Beginnings of a Democratic Drain in the United States
Labour Day celebrations at Old Town Square in Prague on May 1, 2017, featuring a banner depicting democracy as a leaf eaten by caterpillars labeled Putin, Kaczyński, Orbán, Babiš, Trump, and Fico. Photo: Jolanta Wojcicka.
Following the 2024 US presidential election, there has been renewed discussion about Americans—particularly academics, journalists, scientists, and young professionals—considering relocation abroad. Is the United States beginning to exhibit early symptoms of democratic drain, or do its institutional resilience and federal structure make it fundamentally different from the countries examined in your research?
Professor Justin Gest: I think both are true. We are seeing the beginnings of a democratic drain in the United States. The phenomenon has clearly reached US shores, and it’s beginning to take place now, even if it’s just in the early days. But at the same time, the United States possesses certain unique advantages in its institutions, civic associations, and judiciary that act as a form of resilience against this creep of democratic backsliding.
Interrupting the Democratic Drain Cycle
Across Europe, several countries that have experienced democratic backsliding—including Hungary, Serbia, and Slovakia—have also witnessed sustained outward migration. Do you see Europe as the principal laboratory for democratic drain, or are similar patterns now emerging across a much broader range of democracies?
Professor Justin Gest: Europe is certainly the poster child for democratic drain, and it’s one of the reasons why I focus so much of my research on Central and Eastern Europe—places like Hungary, Serbia, Poland, etc. However, democratic drain is broadening now, and it surely already has before this. You know, other countries to look at would certainly include places like Turkey, Israel, India, and, as I mentioned earlier, potentially the United States.
Ifdemocratic drainbecomes a self-reinforcing cycle—where democratic decline encourages emigration, which in turn further weakens democratic resistance—what practical steps can democratic governments take to interrupt that cycle? Are institutional reforms, economic opportunities, or renewed civic engagement likely to be the most effective response?
Professor Justin Gest: I’m not sure about the latter question, but certainly in terms of what to do about this at the countries-of-origin level. When you have this steady depletion of people leaving, the most direct solution is to cultivate the regeneration of more people with democratic political values. And so that comes from education and public information campaigns, and supporting movements for democracy that educate people and cultivate an appetite for freedoms and rights, such as those that democracies promise and protect. So, that is the best way: supporting the organizations, the civil society groups, the political parties that are seizing and doing their best to cultivate more liberal and democratic norms in the people that they represent.
The Future of Migration and Democracy
And lastly, Professor Gest, taken together, your scholarship explores the intersections of migration, identity, inequality, populism, and democratic representation. Looking ahead, which emerging development—whether artificial intelligence, demographic ageing, climate mobility, rising nationalism, or growing geopolitical instability—do you believe will most fundamentally reshape the relationship between migration and democracy over the coming decade?
Professor Justin Gest: It’s a strong list you put together. It’s clearly all of the above. Each of the meta-phenomena that you mentioned plays a role. Ultimately, I think that the first step we can take to address the challenges that migration poses for democracy and democratization is to recognize those challenges. I think that more and more public officials are coming to realize that there is this relationship.
There is a relationship, and that means that if you care to protect democracy, but you also understand and recognize the critical benefits of a healthy, orderly, and well-managed immigration system, then you have to work to pursue them both, and you have to be cognizant of their relationship to each other as you make policies.
You also have to recognize that there are actors in this world who do not care about the protection of democracy, who do not care for immigrants—sometimes for very hateful reasons, and others just because they don’t think that they’re necessary. In any case, those actors will seize upon the vulnerabilities of this relationship between migration and democracy.
So, people who want to protect them both have to recognize this relationship and act accordingly. Otherwise, the temptations and the allure of easy solutions, slogans, and disinformation are going to win.
In this commentary, Bernard Allan V. Garcia argues that contemporary populism strategically reframes migration not simply as a policy issue but as a political instrument for redirecting public anger. Rather than confronting structural inequalities such as wealth concentration, housing crises, and labor exploitation, populist leaders shift political conflict from a vertical struggle between citizens and elites to a horizontal conflict between natives and migrants. Garcia demonstrates how this narrative preserves existing economic hierarchies, redefines political enemies, and transforms migrants into convenient scapegoats while leaving the underlying causes of social and economic insecurity untouched. The commentary offers a provocative framework for understanding anti-migration rhetoric as a mechanism of economic elite preservation rather than a genuine response to citizens’ socioeconomic grievances.
By Bernard Allan V. Garcia*
In an era of staggering wealth inequality, stagnant growth, soaring living costs, and decaying public infrastructure, populist leaders often target vulnerable populations rather than addressing systemic shortcomings. The rhetoric of modern populist movements is directed downward, frequently toward migrant populations (Wodak, 2015). This is no coincidence. It is a recurring pattern in countries led by populist governments, albeit with different variations, and has become a core strategy of contemporary populism.
To understand why human migration remains such a controversial issue in contemporary politics, we must look beyond standard and overused explanations (i.e., xenophobia and traditional economic models). The reality in countries governed by populist leaders is more structural: migration and migrants serve as instruments of political distraction and redirection (Rini, 2019). This strategy shifts political conflict from a top-down class divide to a horizontal conflict between citizens and immigrants.
The Elite’s Dilemma
Every sovereign state today has its own deep structural fractures. For ordinary citizens, difficulties such as unaffordable housing, inadequate health insurance, bankruptcy, or industrial decline naturally lead them to search for explanations. Public anger tends to flow vertically upward, toward government institutions, powerful elites, and the corporate structures that, directly or indirectly, shape people’s daily lives.
This places political and economic elites in an equally difficult position, as a society organized around a vertical, top-down understanding of power can become highly volatile. When directed upward, public anger can generate demands for wealth redistribution, higher corporate taxes, and structural reforms that threaten the status quo benefiting those who hold power. To preserve that status quo, political leaders who depend on elite donors face a fundamental dilemma: how can they acknowledge the frustrations of the working class without allowing that frustration to be directed at the elites themselves?
The Art of Anger Redirection
Migration and migrants are, unfortunately, well suited to solving this dilemma (Nayyeri, 2024). By introducing an external group into the political equation, populist leaders can dramatically redirect public attention and redefine the source of public suffering. For example, housing crises in many Western states, where rental prices are skyrocketing, are driven primarily by internal factors such as restrictive zoning laws, low interest rates, and the financialization of housing as an investment rather than a basic human right. Addressing these problems requires significant redistribution of resources and a reordering of policy priorities—measures that may be unpopular with economic elites. Instead, populist leaders attribute the problem to migrants. It is far easier to tell working-class families that housing prices have risen because of the millions of migrants who have arrived in recent years than to introduce policies that might strain relations between the government and economic elites. As a result, the political conflict instantly rotates by 90 degrees, shifting from Bottom vs. Top to Inside vs. Outside.
This substitution offers an immense political advantage. First, the redirection preserves the economic and political status quo because there is no need to raise taxes on wealthy individuals or undertake structural reforms. Second, it provides political leaders and economic elites with an easy villain in a fabricated narrative, as migrants lack both political power and media representation to defend themselves. Finally, it unites a struggling working class and powerful elites around the issue of border control, creating a shared political agenda that can be translated into electoral advantage.
Redefining the “Enemy”
Historically, the elite has consisted of those with economic power, such as business owners, landlords, and corporate executives. However, populist leaders, driven by both the desire to remain in power and the need to preserve their relationships with traditional elites, introduce a revised concept of who constitutes the elite (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017). In the populist narrative, an elite is no longer a billionaire who pays workers minimum wage while benefiting from low corporate taxes. Instead, the elite becomes a progressive liberal politician, university professor, journalist, or anyone who advocates for migrants. Through this lens, those who defend migrants’ rights are portrayed as enemies of the state, while those who oppose migration are celebrated as patriots.
When populist leaders attack migrants and the migration system, they claim to be fighting the established liberal order. Working-class voters may feel a sense of victory in dismantling the so-called migrant establishment, even though their own economic exploitation remains unresolved.
The Paradox of Protecting Local Labor
The hypocrisy of populist politics can be seen in the priorities set by populist governments. One of the most common justifications for anti-migration populism is the protection of local employment opportunities. If populist leaders were truly concerned with protecting local jobs, their proposed policies would follow a logical order. They would champion strict penalties against corporate exploitation, including the abuse of both local and undocumented foreign workers. They would insist that all workers, regardless of their country of origin, be treated fairly and that no employer be allowed to use race or nationality to justify paying below-standard wages. They would also advocate pathways to citizenship or permanent residency to protect migrants’ rights and prevent employers from coercing them into accepting substandard pay.
However, such policies remain far down the list of priorities for populist leaders. Instead of penalizing corporate exploitation, they target workers themselves. The objective is rarely to eliminate the unregulated labor market—including undocumented foreign workers—but rather to preserve a system of permanent insecurity. By keeping migrants in a legal twilight zone while simultaneously using them as political punching bags, populist leaders claim two victories: a source of cheap labor for the economy and an inexhaustible political scapegoat during elections.
Stop Looking at the Border
None of this commentary suggests that migration policy is simple or that sovereign states should not manage their territorial boundaries. Managing immigration is both a legitimate and a necessary function of a sovereign state. However, there is a difference between treating migration as a complex humanitarian challenge and presenting it as an all-purpose solution to domestic political problems.
As long as public scrutiny remains focused on the horizontal conflict between locals/natives and foreigners, the underlying causes of societal inequality will remain unaddressed. The housing market will continue to suffer as long as housing is treated primarily as an asset and investment. Wealth will remain concentrated at the top of the social hierarchy. Public services will continue to deteriorate. Ultimately, despite efforts to militarize state borders, citizens may one day wake up and realize that their lives have not fundamentally improved.
Therefore, whenever political figures attempt to convince you that your main adversary is an immigrant arriving by boat or crossing a border, commentators, journalists, and citizens must remain vigilant and look upward. The central political conflict of our time is not a clash between natives and foreigners; it is a struggle between those who profit from a broken status quo and those left to bear its costs. While public attention is directed toward the border, ask yourself which policies are being quietly buried. When working people compete with one another over scraps instead of demanding a seat at the table, ask who truly benefits.
(*) Bernard Allan V. Garcia is a political demographer having earned degrees in International Studies and Population Studies. He is currently an Associate Researcher at the Asian Institute of Management in the Philippines. Email: bvgarcia@aim.edu
References
Mudde, C. & Rovira Kaltwasser, C. (2017). Populism: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press.
As Abelardo de la Espriella assumes Colombia’s presidency on August 7, 2026, the country enters a defining moment in its democratic development. In this timely ECPS interview, Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson examines how insecurity, rather than ideological realignment alone, has reshaped Colombia’s political landscape and accelerated the rise of security-centered populism. While acknowledging widespread public demands for stronger state authority, she warns that democratic governance cannot be reduced to coercive effectiveness. Drawing on Colombia’s own experience with armed conflict, peacebuilding, and institutional reform, Arnson argues that “offering a blank check to the armed forces and police vis-à-vis accountability invites future abuse.” The interview explores the future of the Peace Accord, human rights, constitutional checks and balances, US-Colombia relations, and the broader implications of Latin America’s rightward turn for liberal democracy.
As Abelardo de la Espriella (ADLE) prepares to assume Colombia’s presidency on August 7, 2026, the country stands at a critical juncture in its democratic trajectory. His election concludes four years of Gustavo Petro’s unprecedented left-wing administration but simultaneously inaugurates a new political era shaped by mounting public insecurity, institutional distrust, and the growing appeal of punitive forms of governance. Across Latin America, deteriorating security conditions have fueled the rise of leaders who promise decisive action against crime, often accompanied by populist rhetoric that portrays liberal democratic constraints as obstacles rather than safeguards. Colombia now finds itself at the center of this regional transformation, raising fundamental questions about whether democratic resilience can be reconciled with demands for stronger executive authority and uncompromising security policies.
In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson—adjunct lecturer at the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies and former director of the Latin American Program at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars—places Colombia’s political transition within the broader evolution of Latin American democracy. Rather than viewing ADLE’s victory as evidence of a sweeping ideological realignment, Dr. Arnson argues that insecurity, disappointment with governance, and anti-incumbent dynamics provide a more persuasive explanation. While acknowledging an observable regional rightward trend, she cautions that “it’s important not to exaggerate the anti-incumbency aspect” or “the degree of ideological realignment of the electorate,” emphasizing that Colombian voters remain positioned largely in the ideological center.
The interview’s central concern, however, lies beyond electoral politics. It focuses on the democratic implications of governing through an increasingly militarized conception of public security. Arnson argues that ADLE successfully capitalized on widespread perceptions that Petro’s Paz Total strategy had failed, allowing him to dominate the campaign through promises of an “iron fist” approach. Yet she also warns that the popularity of coercive policies should not obscure the institutional dangers they entail. Drawing on Colombia’s painful experience with the “false positives” scandal and other abuses committed during previous security campaigns, she insists that military effectiveness cannot be separated from democratic accountability and respect for human rights.
This concern reaches its sharpest expression in Dr. Arnson’s warning about the incoming administration. “The temptation during the ADLE administration to do away with human rights and legal constraints on the armed forces is high,” she cautions. While recognizing the urgency of restoring public security, she argues that “offering a blank check to the armed forces and police vis-à-vis accountability invites future abuse and a delegitimization of state forces.” In her view, indiscriminate coercion ultimately undermines the very objectives it seeks to achieve by weakening citizen trust and disproportionately harming Colombia’s most vulnerable communities.
Beyond security policy, Dr. Arnson examines the future of Colombia’s 2016 Peace Accord, the resilience of judicial institutions, relations with the United States under a second Trump administration, and the broader rise of security-centered populism throughout Latin America. Throughout the interview, she offers a nuanced reminder that democratic stability depends not merely on defeating armed actors but on preserving constitutional restraints, maintaining institutional checks and balances, and ensuring that the pursuit of order never comes at the expense of the rule of law. As Colombia enters the ADLE era on August 7, these questions are likely to define not only the country’s democratic future but also broader debates over populism, security, and democratic governance across the hemisphere.
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson is an adjunct lecturer at the Johns Hopkins University School of Advanced International Studies and former director of the Latin American Program at the Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars
Here is the revised version of our interview with Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Anti-Incumbency Mattered, but It Does Not Fully Explain the Election
Colombia’s 2026 election has been interpreted by many observers as part of a broader regional resurgence of the populist radical right. Do you see Abelardo de la Espriella’s victory primarily as an ideological realignment, a backlash against Gustavo Petro’s presidency, or as another manifestation of the increasingly anti-incumbent nature of democratic politics in Latin America?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: There is undeniably a rightward trend in Latin American politics: since Donald Trump took office in January 2025, all 7 Latin American elections in South or Central America (Bolivia, Chile, Colombia, Costa Rica, Ecuador, Honduras, and Peru) have been won by the center- or far right. Not all those elected are populists or outsiders; and most, but not all, reflected an anti-incumbent wave. Donald Trump’s explicit endorsement of victorious presidential candidates in Honduras and Colombia may have played a role, given the importance of the United States to both countries, but the impact is difficult to quantify.
Colombia’s Abelardo de la Espriella (ADLE) cast himself as an outsider and in certain aspects he was. A lawyer and businessman with his own luxury brands, ADLE created his own political movement and electoral vehicle—Defensores de la Patria—outside the established party system. Prior to his election he had never held political office.
A notable feature of the 2026 presidential election was the collapse of Colombia’s traditional right, represented by Paloma Valencia of the Centro Democrático party. She was endorsed by former president Álvaro Uribe and won a primary of rightist candidates that did not include ADLE. In the first round, Valencia was attacked as one of the políticos de siempre(same old politicians) and garnered less than 7 percent of the vote. Meanwhile centrist presidential candidates together pulled in just over 5 percent, although centrist mayors govern five of Colombia’s largest cities.
There was certainly an anti-incumbent aspect to ADLE’s election, as leftist candidate Iván Cepeda pledged continuity with many of the policies of President Gustavo Petro, including the widely criticized negotiations with criminal and quasi-insurgent groups under the rubric of Paz Total. But it’s important not to exaggerate the anti-incumbency aspect. Petro’s approval rates rose to over 46 percent in February 2026, following increases in the minimum wage. Moreover, ADLE won by an extremely narrow margin—just under 252,000 votes of the over 26 million cast, less than one percent. Without the votes of 390,974 Colombians living abroad, ADLE would have lost to Cepeda.
Similarly, one must not exaggerate the degree of ideological realignment of the electorate. As political scientist Orlando Pérez has pointed out, the way Colombian voters defined themselves on a left-right spectrum changed very little between 2020 and 2024. On a scale of one to ten (with zero on the far left and 10 the far right), the Colombian average in 2024 was 5.3, up only 0.4 from 2020, and well below the 2002 peak of 6.8.
De la Espriella Won by Owning the Security Narrative
You have long argued that Colombian democracy must be understood through the interaction of political institutions, armed conflict, and state legitimacy. To what extent does this election reveal that insecurity, rather than ideology, has become the principal driver of electoral behavior, allowing populist outsiders to redefine political competition around order rather than representation?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: One area of clear advantage for ADLE was on security issues. Petro’s signature policy of Paz Total was widely seen as a disastrous failure. Multiple indicators showed rising insecurity in rural and urban areas, including the assassination of a prominent center-right candidate in 2025, the territorial expansion of illegal armed groups and their dominance over local populations, increased kidnappings, extortion, and child recruitment, and the growth of criminal economies such as drug trafficking and illegal mining. Public opinion polls prior to the election overwhelmingly showed that “public order” was the principal concern of Colombian voters, far outstripping the second most reported issue, unemployment and the economy. Iván Cepeda’s pledge to continue Petro’s policy of negotiating with armed groups allowed De la Espriella to dominate the security narrative.
ADLE proposed numerous “iron fist” security measures, including robust military campaigns to retake territory, fumigate coca crops, build maximum security “mega-prisons” modeled on those in El Salvador, expand military budgets, and invest in intelligence, technology, and equipment for the armed forces and police. He also pledged a reinvigorated security alliance with the United States and Israel. Some of his proposals were unrealistic—he initially vowed to recapture territory in the first 90 days of his term. But his proposals, punctuated by worsening security indicators and a spate of deadly bombings in southwest Colombia before the election, resonated with the public.
Issues of social inclusion—a staple of populist politics—did not figure prominently in ADLE’s campaign. He vowed to shrink the size of the state by 40 percent and emphasized the role of free markets in growing the economy. He cited his private sector experience as the key to rapidly resolving one of Colombia’s most longstanding, thorny issues: land tenure. He also announced vague plans to address hunger by convincing prominent businessmen to purchase agricultural products in various departments of the country. At the same time, he appealed to voter sentiment by promising to come down with an “iron fist” (mano de hierro) against those who would steal public funds. He proposed the creation of an anti-corruption “search bloc,” the kind of specialized police unit that hunted down Pablo Escobar in the early 1990s.
Security Populism Has Become a Staple of Latin American Politics
Armed riot police on the streets of Bogota, Colombia on May 01, 2016. Photo: Dreamstime.
Throughout Latin America we increasingly observe candidates who combine anti-establishment rhetoric with promises of uncompromising law-and-order policies. Is Colombia witnessing the emergence of a distinctly Colombian version of right-wing populism, or does De la Espriella fit into a broader transnational family that includes leaders such as Nayib Bukele, Javier Milei, Donald Trump, and José Antonio Kast?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: The problems of crime and violence in Latin America are long-standing and profound. According to the United Nations Office on Drugs and Crime (UNODC), “Latin America and the Caribbean remain the region most affected by organized crime and gang-related violence.” Homicide rates vary in different sub-regions and within countries, but are the highest in the world, almost four times the global average. Regional homicide rates declined between 2015 and 2023, but the UNODC reported that “the level of lethal violence remains alarmingly high.”
Homicides reflect only part of the story, however. Security analyst Robert Muggah has underscored how “lived insecurity often manifests as extortion at shopfronts, robbery on commuting routes, spectacular high-visibility incidents, and a persistent suspicion that criminals exercise de facto authority in specific neighborhoods.” In many countries, the fear of crime outstrips actual indicators of crime and violence. Muggah argues that the “disjuncture between real and perceived violent crime is most evident in places once seen as comparatively safe but where organized crime and everyday violence have become more visible.”
As a result, UNODC found that only 44 percent of citizens in Latin America feel safe walking alone in their neighborhood at night, the lowest percentage in the world and almost 30 percent lower than the global average. Chilean scholar Lucía Dammert has characterized the region’s security challenges in terms of the existence of multi-dimensional and deeply rooted structures of illegal power. These have emerged from a “perfect storm” of political crisis, corruption, criminal penetration of the state, powerful criminal economies, violent forms of dispute resolution, and the weakness of state institutions responsible for public safety.
Against this backdrop, security populism has become a staple of political campaigns, as fearful citizens demand what Muggah has called “expanded coercive power.” Governments have responded by imposing states of emergency, granting expanded powers to the military to fight crime, and pursuing judicial reforms to limit the rights of the accused and impose harsher sentences. Salvadoran President Nayib Bukele has adopted the most draconian measures, improving security but at a horrendous cost to human rights, democracy, and the rule of law. His notorious anti-terrorism prison known as CECOT is a model which many leaders on the right look to emulate. ADLE’s pledge to construct ten mega-prisons reflects the appeal of the so-called “Bukele model.” Indeed, when a journalist asked De la Espriella to respond in one word to the name Bukele, he responded, “the future.”
Elite Connections Do Not Prevent Anti-Elite Appeals
One striking feature of election campaign was the prominence of anti-elite discourse despite the fact that several leading candidates were themselves deeply embedded in political and economic elites. Does this suggest that contemporary populism has become less about social representation than about constructing a moral narrative that divides society between virtuous citizens and corrupt establishments?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: For all his anti-elite pretensions, Colombian journalists have pointed out ADLE’s numerous connections to Colombia’s political and private sector elite. During his legal career he defended right-wing members of Congress ultimately convicted for their ties to paramilitary groups (the so-called parapolítica scandal). He also served as a defense lawyer for other business and government figures accused of corruption, including the notorious Alex Saab, accused of massive corruption and laundering money for the Venezuelan dictatorship. In addition, ADLE has surrounded himself with well-known figures in Colombia’s political class. His vice-presidential running mate, José Manuel Restrepo, held two ministerial posts during the Iván Duque presidency (Minister of Commerce, Industry, and Tourism and Minister of Finance and Public Credit) and his choice for Interior Minister, Rodrigo Lara Restrepo, served as president of the House of Representatives and in the Senate. Miguel Gómez Martínez, ADLE’s designate for Finance Minister, is a former ambassador and deputy comptroller general. These individuals are expected to provide important governing experience for the new administration.
Despite his many elite connections, ADLE’s campaign featured a staple of populist discourse—the division of society between the virtuous “people” and corrupt elites. ADLE claimed to represent “losnunca” (the nobodies) against los de siempre (the usual suspects or established political class). The anti-elite messaging struck a chord considering the low regard of Colombian citizens for key political institutions. Polling by the Colombian firm Invamer in February 2026 showed that political parties, the judicial system, and the Congress were viewed more unfavorably than any other institution in Colombia except the ELN criminal insurgency. (The armed forces and the Catholic Church scored highest).
Another feature of populism is the view that opponents are enemies to be crushed, not legitimate political actors with whom to bargain. During the campaign, ADLE declared himself the “sworn enemy” of the left (which he threatened to “disembowel”), qualifying them as “criminals,” “bandits,” and “narcoterrorists.” Invoking an all-out Manichaean struggle between good and evil, he characterized the election as a choice between “totalitarianism and democracy.” He claimed divine inspiration for his decision to run, telling Spain’s El País that God had told him to enter politics at a moment of “extreme danger” to the homeland. The battle was not just political, he said, but also “moral and spiritual” given that “evil inhabits the Casa de Nariño,” the presidential house.
ADLE emphasized conservative family values but was not above vulgar language and demonstrations of hypermasculinity. He boasted that women voters were attracted by the size of his genitals and claimed that he had the “balls” (cojones) to take on established interests.
It is an open question as to whether ADLE’s populist campaign tactics will spill over into his governing style and whether the inclusion of seasoned center-right politicians in his cabinet will moderate his propensity for disruption.
False Claims of Fraud Erode Trust Even When Elections Are Fair
Colombia’s former President Gustavo Petro. Photo: Dreamstime.
The election was accompanied by allegations of electoral irregularities and public questioning of preliminary results. You recently warned that fraud narratives without evidence can undermine democratic institutions. More broadly, how dangerous is the normalization of electoral delegitimization in countries with otherwise credible electoral systems? Can repeated attacks on electoral integrity become a form of democratic erosion even when institutions ultimately withstand them?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: No one did more to undermine confidence in the electoral system that President Petro himself. For months he spread false narratives about fraud and refused to accept ADLE’s victory; a group of his supporters have filed a judicial complaint aimed at declaring the election null and void. Petro accused the National Civil Registry (Registraduría Nacional del Estado Civil), in charge of voter registration and vote tabulation, of manipulating results before the election. Petro also lashed out at Colombian and Israeli companies for their supposed electoral intervention. Even after Iván Cepeda himself recognized ADLE’s victory, Petro claimed that “the Colombian people have elected Iván Cepeda.”
The fraud narrative was amplified on social media. According to the US-based Carter Center, the campaign marked the first “widespread use of artificial intelligence” in Colombian elections, contributing to the spread of disinformation. This included “false messages about voting, out-of-context videos suggesting fraud, alleged early results, and misleading narratives about the transparency of the vote count.”
Despite repeated denunciations of fraud, Petro failed to present supporting evidence. An election observer team from the European Union praised the electoral system’s transparency, safeguards, and rapid publication of results. Observers from the Organization of American States and Colombia’s own Electoral Observation Mission (Misión de Observación Elctoral, MOE) acknowledged complaints and made recommendations to improve technical aspects of election administration but similarly found no evidence to support fraud allegations.
Had Cepeda won the election, one presumes that Gustavo Petro would have desisted from claiming fraud. Insisting on the narrative will continue to erode faith in Colombia’s institutions, fostering ongoing polarization and ultimately damaging its democracy.
Performance Matters as Much as Democratic Principles
Colombia’s 1991 Constitution was designed to broaden democratic inclusion after decades of political violence. Yet thirty-five years later, many Colombians appear willing to support leaders advocating exceptional measures against crime and armed groups. Does this suggest that constitutional democracy is increasingly being judged less by liberal principles than by its perceived capacity to deliver security and effective governance?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: It is probably not the case that citizens are indifferent to issues of democratic practices, civil liberties, and human rights. In its most recent survey in 2024, the Santiago-based polling firm Latinobarómetro found that 61 percent of Colombian’s agreed with the statement that “democracy may have its problems but it’s the best system of government.” At the same time, Latinobarómetro found that a scant 20 percent of Colombians were satisfied with the way democracy functioned. The gap demonstrates an important weakness in Colombia’s democratic system—its capacity to deliver things that citizens want and need: security and economic opportunity. An alarming majority of Colombians—52 percent—said they didn’t care if a non-democratic government came to power “if it solved problems.” Vanderbilt University’s LAPOP has consistently found that crime victimization and support for authoritarian measures go hand in hand. And in his book, The Crisis of Modern Capitalism, British financial correspondent Martin Wolf found that an essential ingredient of democratic stability was an economy that provided for a decent standard of living. Government performance, rather than abstract principles, is key to the future of representative democracy, in Colombia and elsewhere.
Security Without Accountability Invites Future Abuse
Bogotá, Colombia — January 18, 2009: Colombian soldiers march during a military parade in Plaza de Bolívar, the historic heart of Bogotá. Photo: King Ho Yim / Dreamstime.
Throughout your work you have emphasized that unresolved violence weakens democratic institutions. If Colombia shifts from Petro’s strategy of negotiation toward a far more coercive security doctrine, what lessons should policymakers draw from Colombia’s own history regarding the relationship between military effectiveness, democratic accountability, and respect for human rights?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: Of the many incoherencies of Petro’s Total Peace policy, the most important was a lack of strategic vision concerning the relationship between military force and political negotiations with insurgent or criminal groups (in recent years, the line has all but disappeared). Ceasefires with multiple armed groups allowed them to expand their territorial presence and increase their coercive control over the civilian population. By contrast, the peace accord between the government of Juan Manuel Santos and Colombia’s largest insurgent group, the Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia (FARC), was concluded after a sequence of military operations, most notably between 2008 and 2012, that profoundly weakened the insurgency.
The Colombian experience also demonstrates that military and political advances absent efforts to establish legitimate state presence throughout the national territory are easily reversible. Following the FARC’s demobilization in 2017, other armed groups, not the state, filled the vacuum of power. These groups competed amongst themselves for lucrative drug routes and other sources of illegal rent. The 2016 peace accord provided an historic opportunity to extend state presence throughout the countryside, in security as well as development terms. The failure to do so began late in the Santos administration, continued under the Duque administration, and accelerated during Petro’s term.
That said, Colombia also illustrates the dangers of military force not bounded by democratic and human rights norms. Over a period of decades—but principally between 2002 and 2008—the military murdered over 7,800 young men from poor neighborhoods, dressing them up in guerrilla uniforms to inflate body counts. This was the “false positives” scandal, the worst blow to the prestige of the armed forces in recent times. Other undemocratic practices carried out in the name of security during the Uribe years included the illegal wiretapping of opposition politicians, Supreme Court justices, and journalists. This led to the dissolution of Colombia’s domestic intelligence agency, the DAS.
The temptation during the ADLE administration to do away with human rights and legal constraints on the armed forces is high. ADLE has proposed total judicial security for public security forces ….“an absolute priority to the public forces over the narcoterrorists regarding international humanitarian law.” However necessary it is to improve security in Colombia, offering a blank check to the armed forces and police vis-à-vis accountability invites future abuse and a delegitimization of state forces. The tasks of weakening violent actors and illegal economies, recovering state control of territory, and reinforcing citizen trust in the police and armed forces are undermined by indiscriminate tactics that inevitably have their greatest impact on poor communities.
Sustainable Peace Depends on Governance, Not Only Coercion
How should we understand the relationship between populism and Colombia’s long-standing armed conflict? Does persistent insecurity create unusually fertile conditions for populist leaders who promise decisive action, or does populist politics itself risk further polarizing a society that has struggled for decades to build sustainable peace?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: During Petro’s term, a dynamic of confrontation between and among armed groups largely replaced confrontation between such groups and the government, with disastrous consequences for the civilian population. According to the International Committee for the Red Cross, the humanitarian consequences of the armed conflict in 2025 reached “the most serious level in the last decade.” Restrictions on movement (confinements), extorsion, forced recruitment, and displacement reflect a perverse gobernanza criminal in Colombia’s rural areas where the state has historically been absent. The increase in the number of combatants comprising Colombia’s eight principal illegal armed groups has been staggering since the peace accord with the FARC: from approximately 6,500 in 2017 to more than 27,000 today, according to government figures compiled by the Bogotá think tank, Fundación Ideas para la Paz. While significant increases took place under the previous government of President Iván Duque, the pace of growth accelerated between 2023-2025 during Petro’s term.
This is the backdrop to ADLE’s victory. He laid out his security approach in a February 2026 interview with Colombia’s leading daily, El Tiempo. To combat all the forms of violence, he said, one had to begin by fumigating 333,000 hectares of coca, “the base of the pyramid” and source of income for criminal confederations. He also proposed bombing narcoterrorist camps and killing or capturing ten ringleaders in each Colombian department.
One does not have to discount the importance of a robust security strategy to weaken criminal groups and the illicit economies on which they rely to observe that force alone will not establish state legitimacy. Colombia’s peace agreement posited that rural development and creating the conditions for sustainable livelihoods, especially in coca-producing areas, were essential ingredients of governance and stability. That premise remains as valid today as it was in 2016.
Undermining the Peace Accord Would Be Counterproductive
The 2016 Peace Accord remains one of the most ambitious peacebuilding projects in recent history. To what extent could a more confrontational security strategy alter the political consensus surrounding the peace process? Is Colombia entering a period of policy correction, or might it risk reversing some of the institutional gains achieved since the agreement?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: One of the biggest obstacles to peace accord implementation has been, precisely, the lack of consensus over its provisions. This was reflected most dramatically in the narrow victory of the “No” vote in an October 2016 plebiscite. But since then, the accord has been embedded in Colombian law and the constitution, providing for some, albeit uneven, degree of implementation over the last decade. Most important have been programs of reinsertion for some 11,000 former combatants as well as focused development programs, known as PDET’s, to provide development opportunities for conflict- and coca-affected communities. The Petro administration oversaw some advances in land restitution but most of the rural reform agenda remains pending, as do other important aspects of the accord.
The University of Notre Dame’s Kroc Institute, which measures accord implementation, noted in June 2026 that “violence remains the primary impediment to sustainable peace.” The Institute noted the “gap between ambitious planning and territorial reality” and cited a “pressing need to accelerate structural reforms.”
To what extent, if at all, the ADLE administration will pursue further implementation of the 2016 accord remains to be seen, although it is unlikely. The Trump administration maneuvered in 2025 to narrow the mandate of the UN mission verifying implementation of the peace agreement, eliminating its monitoring of the accord’s ethnic chapter and the work of the transitional justice mechanism known as the JEP (Special Jurisdiction for Peace). ADLE has vowed to abolish the JEP; and although it has constitutional standing, he could simply starve the court of funds. The same holds true for other aspects of the accord, including programs to reincorporate demobilized fighters into civilian life.
Efforts to undermine the peace agreement will likely prove to be counter-productive. Without judicial guarantees and sustainable livelihoods, hundreds if not thousands of demobilized guerrillas could be tempted to return to arms, worsening the security challenges.
Human Rights Institutions Face Growing Political Pressure
Protesters march peacefully through Bogotá calling for the impeachment of President Gustavo Petro and opposing the government’s proposed reforms on April 21, 2024. Photo: Anamaria Mejía / Dreamstime.
You have written extensively about the importance of human rights in democratic consolidation. Around the world, however, populist leaders increasingly portray human rights institutions as obstacles to popular sovereignty and effective governance. How vulnerable are Colombia’s judicial institutions, constitutional safeguards, and human rights mechanisms to this increasingly widespread populist critique?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: Since winning the election, ADLE has vowed to eliminate several entities charged with overseeing peace and human rights issues, folding their functions into other ministries. Those on the chopping block include the office of the High Commissioner for Peace, and the presidential advisors for National Reconciliation and for Human Rights and International Humanitarian Law. Like President Javier Milei in Argentina, ADLE has plans to slash government positions and dramatically shrink the size of the state. There is undoubtedly a need for state reform and improved inter-agency coordination in Colombia. For example, Colombian scholar Michael Weintraub has identified over two dozen government entities involved in drug policy. Colombia has two institutions with important human rights responsibilities—the Defensoría del Pueblo and the Procuraduría General de la Nación (the People’s Defender and Inspector General, respectively.) The leaders of both institutions are elected by the Colombian legislature from a slate of candidates put forward by the executive branch and the courts. The heads of these agencies serve four-year terms which end in 2028 (Defensor) and 2029 (Procurador). Hence, while activities of both institutions can be affected by budget and personnel cuts, ADLE is not at liberty to remove the existing leadership.
Especially troubling is ADLE’s hostility to multilateral organizations and human rights bodies. He has tempered pledges made in 2025 to withdraw Colombia from the UN, OAS, and Inter-American human rights system, but he has made no secret that he views these organizations as biased, inefficient, and contrary to Colombia’s interests. Eliminating or reducing the UN and OAS presence within Colombia would be especially damaging, given the rising human and economic toll of conflict and violence. Multiple parts of the UN system, including the Verification Mission for the Peace Process, the High Commissioner for Refugees (UNHCR), the High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR), and the Office for the Coordination of Humanitarian Affairs (OCHA) all play critical roles. These include verifying the implementation of the peace agreement, providing assistance to displaced populations and refugees (nearly 3 million Venezuelan refugees and migrants have entered Colombia since 2014), and addressing the worsening human rights and humanitarian crisis in rural areas. All parts of the UN system, in Colombia and elsewhere, have suffered budget cuts that are largely a product of reductions in US assistance. For its part, the OAS provided extensive monitoring of the first and second rounds of the 2026 elections, pushing back against narratives of fraud and making numerous recommendations to strengthen electoral institutions and processes; and since 2004, the OAS Mission to Support the Peace Process has also provided important support for peacebuilding.
ADLE’s plans to intensify military operations, if coupled with efforts to reduce the presence of key international actors, could significantly worsen the already dire situation facing conflict-affected populations.
Washington and Bogotá Are Entering a New Phase of Cooperation
Your recent work highlights both the enduring strategic importance of Colombia for the United States and growing tensions in bilateral relations. Under a new right-leaning Colombian administration and a second Trump presidency, do you anticipate a restoration of the traditional US-Colombia partnership, or could new disagreements emerge despite greater ideological affinity?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: US-Colombia relations will tighten substantially following the years of tension and near rupture during the Petro years. Deputy Assistant Secretary of War Joseph Humire visited Colombia in July 2026, pledging to take cooperation to “new levels” and invoking a “Plan Patriota 2.0,” an important symbolic reference to Álvaro Uribe’s 2002 security policy. Also in July, a high-level Colombian delegation visited Washington, including the incoming vice president and ministers of finance, trade, foreign affairs, and defense. The group held a whirlwind of meetings in the executive branch, Congress, and international development banks, with officials emphasizing a “new beginning” in bilateral relations.
ADLE has called for tightening relations with the United States and Israel, citing needs for new military equipment, technology, intelligence and AI capacity, and expanded troop levels. His view that narcoterrorism constitutes not just a threat to Colombia but to the national security of the United States dovetails seamlessly with that of the Trump administration. Early in his term President Trump designated drug cartels and gangs as Foreign Terrorist Organizations and late last year informed the US Congress that actions by cartels “constitute an armed attack against the United States.” In that context, the United States has carried out dozens of attacks on so-called narcolanchas in the Caribbean and Eastern Pacific, killing hundreds in what critics decry as violations of the laws of war.
Along with other conservative leaders in the hemisphere, ADLE is poised to eagerly join the Trump administration’s Americas Counter Cartel initiative and participate in the security alliance known as the Shield of the Americas. It remains to be seen, however, what concrete assistance will flow through these programs, despite the pressing need for regional collaboration in combatting organized crime. At the same time, a more direct US role in Colombian security operations—something alluded to in the White House Counterterrorism Strategy—could provoke a strong backlash among ADLE opponents who constitute roughly half the electorate.
ADLE’s and the Trump administration’s militarized approach to counter-drug strategy is likely to meet its most significant obstacles in the US Congress. This will be especially true if the US mid-term elections put Democrats in control of one or, potentially, both houses of Congress. Thus far, President Trump has relied on Republican majorities in the House and Senate to support, however narrowly, his foreign policy priorities. That said, the foreign aid bill signed into law in February 2026 contained provisions advanced by Democrats that conditioned 20 percent of military financing on progress in bringing human rights violators to justice, reducing threats and attacks on civil society activists, and protecting Afro-Colombian and Indigenous communities. Democrats will insist—as they have over the decades of US-Colombian cooperation—on the human rights, humanitarian, and development dimensions of bilateral relations. Restoring what had been a bipartisan consensus over the importance of US-Colombian relations will require accommodating not just the Trump administration and Republicans, but also congressional Democrats. Álvaro Uribe ignored such concerns to his peril, ultimately failing to overcome resistance to a long-sought bilateral free trade agreement (FTA) because of human rights concerns.
The Trump administration is also likely to support financing from both the US Treasury and international financial institutions to stabilize Colombia’s economy. Government spending and public debt mushroomed during Petro’s presidency as he suspended the so-called fiscal rule designed to limit the debt-to-GDP ratio. The incoming ADLE administration inherits a fiscal deficit that has already resulted in a downgrading of Colombia’s credit rating. Cutting the budget to restore fiscal balance has the potential to detonate social unrest.
Executive Ambition Will Face Legislative and Judicial Constraints
Unidentified people in the senate meeting, in congress building in Bogota, Colombia on October 22, 2017. Photo: Pablo Hidalgo / Dreamstime.
Many scholars argue that contemporary democratic crises are increasingly characterized not by abrupt authoritarian breakdowns but by gradual institutional erosion. Looking ahead, what indicators should observers watch most closely in Colombia to distinguish democratic correction from democratic backsliding under the incoming government?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: Political scientist Michael Coppedge has identified two main paths to democratic backsliding: attacks on civil liberties and a free press, and the erosion of checks and balances (what the scholarly literature calls “horizontal accountability”). Backsliding is associated with power grabs by the executive branch, the weakening of judicial institutions, and efforts to undermine the independence of electoral and other institutions.
ADLE may be tempted to rule by decree, but he is likely to face legislative and judicial checks on his power. The composition of the legislature since the March 2026 elections saw Petro and Cepeda’s Pacto Histórico party win the largest number of seats in the House and Senate, significantly more than Álvaro Uribe’s center-right Centro Democrático. According to Colombia Risk Analysis, a consultancy, Colombia’s traditional Conservative and Liberal parties, together with the centrist Partido de la U, captured 47 Senate seats. These parties constitute a “swing” bloc with which ADLE will have to negotiate, issue by issue, to enact parts of his agenda.
ADLE cannot even count on the center-right to back his priorities all the time. When the new Congress was inaugurated in July 2026, a bizarre left-right alliance between the Pacto Histórico and Centro Democrático kept ADLE’s preferred candidate from being elected legislative president. Recurrent obstacles of this sort might tempt ADLE to try to bypass the Congress altogether, but Colombia’s Constitutional Court has the ultimate authority to rule on the constitutionality of executive decrees and legislation. The Court is widely respected as a defender of Colombia’s rights-oriented 1991 Constitution.
It Is Too Early to Declare a Permanent Rightward Turn
There were lots of Venezuelans crossing the border into the land of Colombia. This was captured in La parada, Colombia. Photo: Shutterstock.
Finally, stepping back from Colombia itself, do you believe Latin America is entering a new political cycle in which populist radical-right movements increasingly replace the left-populist wave or “pink tide” of the previous decade? Or are we witnessing something more profound—a regional transformation in which ideology matters less than citizens’ demand for security, state effectiveness, and political order?
Dr. Cynthia J. Arnson: The electoral successes of the far right in Latin America are a relatively new phenomenon (this excludes right-wing military regimes that took power by force). Thus, it is perhaps too soon to make sweeping conclusions about what their electoral victories bode for the region.
Some analysts view the recent spate of right-wing successes as part of an anti-incumbency trend, in which the deep challenges of governance, particularly in confronting crime and organized crime, lead to popular frustration and a subsequent swing of the political pendulum. If this view is correct, and if the right proves no more successful in improving security and livelihoods than their left-wing predecessors, future elections could see the pendulum swing away from right-led governments. That said, three countries in Latin America—the Dominican Republic, Ecuador, and Mexico—bucked the anti-incumbency trend in their most recent presidential elections, suggesting that the desire for alternation may be less potent than before. Furthermore, polling by Latinobarómetro and others shows little evidence of a large ideological realignment of the region’s electorate, with most voters placing themselves towards the middle of the ideological spectrum.
Chilean political scientist Cristóbal Rovira Kaltwasser, co-editor of a 2026 volume, The Far Right in Latin America, has identified commonalities among far-right actors in Latin America, Europe and the United States; they are “capitalizing on feelings of status loss and declining political relevance among groups unsettled by the gradual incorporation of historically marginalized populations.” Low or mediocre economic growth, stagnating or declining real wages, the high cost of living (exacerbated now by the Iran war), culture wars, and the mistrust or rejection of elites provide a common backdrop for the rise of far-right leaders.
Whereas the “rise of the left” in Latin America in the aughts was associated with a critique of neoliberalism and the structural adjustment reforms advocated by Washington-based institutions, for Rovira and other analysts, the rise of the right is linked to cultural rather than economic issues. These include family, traditional gender roles, religion, and opposition to abortion and LBGTQ rights. Today’s right-wing governments inherit a longstanding feature of rightist politics having to do with crime-fighting strategies. Two decades before Nayib Bukele imposed a 2022 state of emergency and jailed close to 1.5 percent of the Salvadoran population, El Salvador’s right-wing presidents imposed mano dura and súper mano dura policies to curb gang violence. Rightists since the 1990s have rejected rights-based efforts to fight crime through policies aimed at fostering social inclusion, community policing, and youth-oriented crime prevention. Deteriorating security conditions in Latin America—both real and perceived—have created a backlash against policies viewed as “soft on crime,” creating a fertile climate for the emergence of “punitive populism” embraced by the right long before Latin America’s most recent electoral cycle.
The anti-immigrant sentiment that has super-charged the right in Europe and the United States is reflected unevenly in Latin America. Chile’s rightist president José Antonio Kast made opposition to immigration a central tenet of his campaign, linking the rise in crime to foreign gangs such as Venezuela’s Tren de Aragua. By contrast—and despite the presence of close to three million Venezuelans in Colombia—anti-migrant sentiment did not figure in ADLE’s campaign.
It is difficult to predict how long the current rightward shift will last. The salience of identity politics means that politicians will have to satisfy not only demands for improved performance in the security and economic arenas but also appeal to voters’ sense of self in relation to others in society. Polarization is likely to deepen as core values become all-or-nothing objects of contestation. How this dynamic plays out will be central to determining liberal democracy’s future.
As the European Union implements its new Migration and Asylum Pact amid growing populist pressures, fundamental questions are emerging about the future of European constitutionalism. In this exclusive interview with the ECPS, MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar argues that the Return Regulation represents “a violation of EU fundamental values” and warns that migration governance is increasingly being reshaped by radical-right narratives. Reflecting on the erosion of the cordon sanitaire, the “Melonization” of European migration policy, and the normalization of exclusionary rhetoric, MEP López Aguilar contends that “migration is a fact, not a crisis,” while insisting that “asylum is a right” that must remain protected. The interview offers a timely reflection on populism, democratic backsliding, human rights, and the future of European integration.
At a moment when migration has become one of the most polarizing issues in European politics, the European Union finds itself confronting a profound constitutional dilemma. The implementation of the Migration and Asylum Pact, together with the Return Regulation, has reignited fundamental debates about sovereignty, solidarity, fundamental rights, and the future of European integration. Once conceived as a legal and political project founded upon supranational cooperation, shared responsibility, and the protection of human dignity, the European Union is increasingly facing accusations that it is redefining migration governance under the growing influence of populist radical-right politics. Against a backdrop of geopolitical instability, demographic change, electoral realignments, and increasingly contested debates over migration, the central question is no longer simply how Europe manages migration, but whether it can continue to do so without compromising the constitutional and humanitarian values upon which the Union itself was built.
Few policymakers are better positioned to reflect on these developments than Juan Fernando López Aguilar. A Member of the European Parliament (MEP) representing Spain’s Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party (PSOE) since 2009, López Aguilar previously served as Spain’s Minister of Justice and chaired the European Parliament’s Committee on Civil Liberties, Justice and Home Affairs (LIBE) between 2019 and 2024. Trained as a constitutional lawyer and widely recognized as one of Europe’s foremost authorities on constitutionalism, the rule of law, migration governance, and fundamental rights, he has played a central role in shaping EU migration and asylum legislation over the past decade. His long engagement with the negotiations surrounding the Migration and Asylum Pact places him at the heart of one of the Union’s most consequential constitutional debates.
In this wide-ranging conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), MEP López Aguilar argues that the Return Regulation represents far more than a technical adjustment to migration management. Rather, he contends that it constitutes “a violation of EU fundamental values” and departs from the legal architecture painstakingly constructed through the Migration and Asylum Pact. Rejecting the growing trend toward externalizing asylum responsibilities, he warns that “migration management cannot come at the expense of the rule of law,” insisting that migration must be addressed through a genuinely European response grounded in “shared responsibility and binding solidarity” rather than bilateral arrangements with third countries.
Throughout the interview, MEP López Aguilar situates the transformation of European migration policy within broader processes of democratic and political change. He argues that the European People’s Party’s (EPP) increasing cooperation with radical-right parties has effectively dismantled the traditional Brandmauer or cordon sanitaire, allowing what he calls the “Melonization” of European migration policy to become mainstream. In his assessment, attempts to externalize migration control, normalize return hubs, and securitize asylum are inseparable from the wider normalization of populist narratives within European politics. At the same time, he cautions that Europe risks undermining its own credibility as a global defender of human rights through increasingly visible double standards in both migration and foreign policy.
Perhaps most strikingly, MEP López Aguilar rejects the assumption that migration itself constitutes Europe’s principal challenge. “Migration is a fact, not a crisis,” he argues, insisting that “reducing migration to zero is not only impossible—it is stupid.” Likewise, he defends asylum as a non-negotiable legal obligation, declaring that “asylum is a right. It must be respected, no matter the cost.” For MEP López Aguilar, the real danger lies not in migration itself but in the gradual erosion of Europe’s constitutional identity through the normalization of policies and rhetoric that once belonged exclusively to the political fringes. The interview therefore offers not merely a critique of current migration policy, but a broader reflection on populism, democratic backsliding, constitutionalism, and the future of the European project itself.
Here is the revised version of our interview with MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar, edited lightly to enhance clarity, readability, and overall flow for publication.
Migration Management Cannot Come at the Expense of the Rule of Law
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar is interviewed by ECPS’ Selcuk Gultasli in his office at the European Parliament on July 2, 2026. Photo: Umit Vurel.
Juan Fernando López Aguilar, welcome! You argue that the new Return Regulation marks a constitutional rupture rather than merely another migration reform. Where, in your view, is the precise red line beyond which migration management ceases to be compatible with the European constitutional project?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: The red line is the lack of a European scale of response and the lack of consistency with EU fundamental values. Let me explain. We worked really hard to fulfil the mandate of the Treaty on the Functioning of the European Union, which is part of the Treaty of Lisbon. Article 67 and Article 77 make it clear that there should be not only an EU migration and asylum policy but also a migration and asylum system based on EU law. It wasn’t easy because migration is obviously the most divisive issue around, and it contaminates not only asylum policy and lawmaking in the member states but also policymaking at the European level. Yet there should be a European migration and asylum system based on law, and we worked for two consecutive mandates—10 years—to make it happen by combining eight pieces of legislation.
The underlying idea is that there should be a European-scale response. You know why? Because no member state can deal with it on its own. It cannot be only a Greek problem when migrants arrive on the Greek islands in the Aegean. It cannot be an Italian problem when migrants arrive on the Pelagic Islands, such as Lampedusa, in the Mediterranean, coming from the African shore. Nor should it be a Spanish problem that we receive 47,000 people a year on the island of El Hierro in the Canaries, coming from Senegal, Mauritania, Guinea-Bissau, and Guinea-Conakry. No, there should be a European-scale response, based on shared responsibility and binding solidarity.
That is the idea behind the Migration and Asylum Pact. But what is the idea behind the Return Regulation? It is to give the member states back the competence to negotiate bilateral agreements with third-country rulers so that, in exchange for money, they keep migrants out of our sight. Is it worthy? Is it consistent with EU values? My answer is no.
There is no European-scale response in Melonizing Europe, in Melonizing migration policy. Giving member states the authority to negotiate bilaterally with whomever is willing to be paid to keep migrants out of our sight in a so-called return hub—which is, let’s face it, a concentration camp for an unlimited period of time—should not happen under EU law. That is inconsistent with the very idea of the Migration and Asylum Pact. And, of course, in my view, it amounts to a denial of EU fundamental values, which are rooted in the principle that the EU is bound by international law, including human rights and international humanitarian law, which encompass shelter, rescue, and disease.
So, the conclusion is that this Return Regulation is not only a mistake; it is a violation of EU fundamental values and of EU law as enshrined in the Migration and Asylum Pact.
Reducing Migration to Zero Is Not Only Impossible—It Is Stupid
Only two years ago, you defended the Migration and Asylum Pact as the best achievable European compromise. Today, you argue that the Return Regulation fundamentally betrays European values. Did Europe cross a legal threshold, or has the political center itself shifted toward positions once associated exclusively with the far right?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Both. We worked so hard to put in place a migration and asylum system based on EU law precisely because it is difficult and deeply divisive. It is obvious that migration is geographically divisive. The perception in the Baltics is not the same as it is in the western member states of the European Union, let alone along the southern external border—namely Greece, Italy, Malta, Cyprus, or Spain—not only in the Mediterranean but also in the Canaries. Different member states have different views of the problem, and they also have different views of the importance of a European-scale response.
Still, it was possible precisely because the balance of forces in the previous mandate of the European Parliament made it possible. Of course, it took time. It was only after a long and difficult struggle that, at the end of the previous mandate—in December 2023—we finally reached an agreement, and the entire package of regulations was ultimately adopted in June 2024. That is why, two years later, in June 2026, it has finally entered into force. But what has happened since the 2024 elections? Yes, we now have a balance of forces leaning to the right and the far right more than ever before.
For the first time in the history of the European Parliament, the EPP, together with three far-right political groups, accounts for 60% of the vote, marginalizing the second-largest group, the Socialists, as well as the Greens, Renew, and the Left. The far right is dominating the House and shaping policy. And that means a great deal when we talk about migration and asylum policy.
It means that a negative vision of migration is dominating the political landscape in Europe. In my view, that is a terrible mistake. Migration is not a threat, let alone a crisis. Migration has always been a fact. It is a permanent fact in the history of mankind. Should we panic because migrants are hoping or longing to make it to Europe? We should not panic. We can handle it. We can handle it as long as we do it together, according to EU law, and without betraying EU values. If we do it that way, then we may succeed. If we do it separately, member state by member state, in contradiction with EU values, then we are doomed to fail. And, of course, trying to reduce migration to zero is also doomed to fail. It is not only impossible, but also stupid.
Return Hubs Without Legal Safeguards Betray European Values
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar. Photo: Umit Vurel.
Supporters argue that external processing restores public confidence without abandoning humanitarian obligations. You contend that it instead erodes the Union’s constitutional identity. Why are they wrong?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Because once you authorize returns to third countries with no meaningful link to the returnees, you are prepared to transfer human beings—their families, vulnerable people, trafficked women, and minors—to countries where they do not belong, where it is impossible to ensure that their fundamental and human rights are respected. It is equally impossible to ensure that the Charter of Fundamental Rights is implemented because there is no obligation to apply the Charter when they are in Egypt, Niger, Tunisia, or Rwanda. Yet this has become the obsession of too many around the table of the Council of Ministers of the Interior of the European Union and also within the European Parliament. That is absolutely inconsistent with the obligation to put in place an EU-scale response that is bound by EU law and consistent with EU values.
You’ve got to make sure that fundamental rights are observed and respected. Even when you return people, there has to be a meaningful link, whether it is a country of transit or a country of origin. But it is unacceptable to send them back anywhere, as long as you are paying the ruler there to keep them out of your sight for an unlimited period of time.
Once they are in the European Union—and this is also, of course, subject to criticism—you may hold them in a retention center, in a so-called migration facility, for two years. That’s much too long. But once they are in a third country with no meaningful link to the returnees, there is no time limit. They can be held there forever, stockpiled forever. Is that acceptable? Is that consistent with EU law? The beauty of the Charter of Fundamental Rights lies precisely in the fact that it protects all human beings, not only European citizens. That’s the beauty.
Anyone under EU law is protected by the Charter of Fundamental Rights, whether you are a European citizen or not. If you, a Turkish citizen, are on European soil, you are also protected by the Charter of Fundamental Rights. It is not the case that it does not apply to you because you are not a European citizen. No, you are protected by EU law, by the EU Charter of Fundamental Rights, because you are under EU law and on European soil. That is the beauty of it. And that is also denied by the fact that people are being returned to third countries to which they do not belong, simply for the sake of paying a ruler who is willing to accept them. That is absolutely, in my view, in contradiction with the very idea of European law and the European Charter of Fundamental Rights.
Treating Migration as a Threat Is a Terrible Mistake
You write that asylum is no longer treated as a fundamental right but increasingly as an administrative inconvenience. Has the EU effectively redefined refugees from rights-holders into security risks?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: The EU is a union of 27 member states. But the majority, for now, is leaning in that direction. It is allowing a negative approach to migration to prevail as the dominant political view: the denial of migration, the belief that migration can be reduced by discouraging migrants, and the idea that you can simply send them back.
As the far right chanted in a stunning ovation following the adoption of the Return Regulation in the plenary session in Strasbourg—and I quote—”Send them back, send them back, send them back.” The idea that you can send back all migrants in the European Union is preposterous. It is self-damaging and ultimately self-defeating. The European Union is ageing. We are losing weight. We are losing GDP in comparison with the world’s major powers and global competitors. We are also losing population in comparative terms. So we need to change our stance on migration.
In Spain, there is an alternative. In Spain, there is a positive view of migration because there is a progressive government. For one thing, Spain has, for several years now, surprisingly become the number one engine of growth and job creation. Spain is growing four times as fast as Germany, France, and Italy, while creating jobs and making economic growth compatible with social justice. That means the minimum wage is rising, pensions are rising, social protection is expanding, and social services also benefit from the contribution of migrants who are willing to pay taxes in order to finance the services needed to fulfil social rights and fundamental rights altogether. So, Spain is demonstrating that there is an alternative. Yet Spain is not only being minoritized; it is actually isolated in this approach. The prevailing view is a negative one, and that approach is both self-defeating and self-damaging for the future of the European Union.
Double Standards Are Undermining Europe’s Global Credibility
Row of EU Flags in front of the European Union Commission building in Brussels. Photo: VanderWolf Images.
The European Union often presents itself as a global normative power. Can Europe continue to lecture the world on human rights while simultaneously exporting asylum responsibilities beyond its own borders?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Of course, I share the ambition that the European Union should grow—and grow fast—and become a relevant global actor. Of course, I agree that the European Union has to exercise hard power, not only soft power. I also agree that the European Union should join forces to build a truly credible and effective European diplomacy and combine its strengths so that it can become a meaningful actor in the global arena—one that is heard, respected, and worth listening to when engaging with other global powers. I mean talking to the United States, talking to Russia, talking to China, talking to India. That is what becoming global means. So, yes, I share that ambition. And yet I am also among those who criticise the fact that the European Union is still far from reaching that goal.
On the contrary, I am deeply critical of the evidence that the European Union is indulging in double standards. It is absolutely unforgivable that the European Union has tried to be hard and tough on Russia after Putin’s aggression against Ukraine while saying nothing about the genocide in Gaza and doing nothing about the genocide in Gaza. In my understanding, it is absolutely obnoxious and unacceptable that the Trump administration has imposed unilateral sanctions on members of the International Criminal Court who dared to call genocide a genocide.
And the European Union has not activated the Blocking Statute to protect members of the International Criminal Court who happen to reside in the EU. The International Criminal Court is located in The Hague, in the Netherlands, within the European Union. They should be protected by EU law. Yet the European Union says nothing, so as not to disturb Trump—the abuser, the bully, the bullying abuser in the global arena. That double standard, of course, damages the European Union’s reputation and credibility. I say this with sadness. I am not complacent.
I say it harshly because I am a fighter. I would like to bring about change so that we overcome those contradictions and double standards and actually gain leverage in the global arena by setting an example, by leading through example. That should be the idea. That should be the inspiration. Of course, I hope we learn how to do that in the foreseeable future.
There Is No Brandmauer Left in European Politics
You argue that the agreement became possible because the European People’s Party increasingly relies on cooperation with the radical right. Has the so-calledcordon sanitaireeffectively collapsed in migration policy?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Absolutely. There is no cordon sanitaire anymore. In German, they call it Brandmauer. Es gibt keine Brandmauer mehr (there is no firewall anymore) in the European Union. There is no cordon sanitaire whatsoever. I have seen it with my own eyes. I have chaired the Committee on Civil Liberties and Human Rights for 10 years now, and I am the spokesperson of the S&D Group on constitutional affairs. And what do I see? Ever since we voted to invest the second European Commission with the votes of the EPP, the S&D, the Liberals, and the Greens, from that very moment—which marked the beginning of this parliamentary legislature—a so-called new majority has emerged, the Neue Mehrheit (New Majority), as they call it in German. It consists of the EPP together with three far-right political groups. They call themselves Conservatives, Patriots, and Sovereignists.
They are the majority. They are the ruling majority in the Parliament, in the Commission, and in the Council. And, of course, that means a great deal. In practical terms, it means there is certainly no cordon sanitaire anymore. None whatsoever. The EPP has broken all barriers against the rise of the far right. On the contrary, it is cooperating actively with the far right, and it is serving the far right’s self-congratulatory agenda. We saw that in the European Parliament when the far right, together with the EPP, secured the majority to adopt the Return Regulation, which was notorious and obnoxious in my view. They all stood up in a standing ovation and began chanting, “Send them back, send them back.” That is the picture. No Brandmauer, no cordon sanitaire anymore.
Progressives Have Been Better at Diagnosis Than at Therapy
Many observers argue that mainstream parties have not defeated populism but instead absorbed its migration agenda. Has populism already won the migration debate without necessarily winning elections?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: I’ll tell you something. I am a progressive. I am a Spanish socialist, and I have been involved in socialist- and progressive-led platforms and think tanks for many years now. That means I have taken part in countless roundtables, seminars, symposiums, congresses, and conferences of progressive parties dealing with the populist agenda and the rise of populism. My first point is this: we progressives are very good at diagnosis, but we are very bad at therapy. We are very good at analyzing what is going on, but we have not been effective so far in reversing the rising tide of populism.
Of course, we do know what populism is about. Populism is a way of simplifying complexity. It is a way of lying to people, of infantilizing them by scapegoating individuals or entire groups in order to exploit the anger directed against those who are being scapegoated. The idea is simple. You’re in pain, you’re in trouble, you’re in disarray, you feel discomfort. Are you angry? I tell you something: I don’t have a solution for you. I have something better. I have someone for you to hate, and I will point my finger at someone for you to hate.
Of course, migrants are the number one choice. But it can also be Muslims, Black people, LGBTQ people, or women, because men are supposedly becoming impoverished as women advance. That is also a very common idea on the far right. You, a young man, are told that you have fewer opportunities than your father did because your father did not have to compete with so many empowered women. Because women are empowered, you have fewer opportunities. And then young people move to the far right all over the place. It’s very tempting, but it’s stupid.
Of course, it should be challenged. It should be fought against. But still, populism is on the rise. Of course, it has heavily contaminated the migration agenda. Populism has managed, first and foremost, to spread fear everywhere: We have been invaded. Migration is out of control. Sooner or later, you’re going to be replaced. Europe is not going to be white and Christian by tomorrow evening. By tomorrow evening, Europe is going to be Black and Muslim. Don’t you see? They are invading us. They are out of control. You have to react. You have to do something about it.
That kind of fear is spreading everywhere. Of course, it is evil rhetoric. It has to be fought against. It has to be dismantled. To begin with, it is not true. It is not true that migration is massive. It is not true that migration is out of control. It is not true that it is a conspiracy. It is not true that Europe is changing color or religion. It is simply not true. It is simply a lie. But still, it works.
That is why we progressives have a challenge: not only to be good at diagnosis, but also to become good at therapy. What should we do to reverse this trend? That is a huge challenge for progressive thinking and for progressive policymaking.
The Return Regulation Europeanizes the Meloni Model
Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni and EU Commission President Ursula von der Leyen meet in Brussels, Belgium on November 03, 2022. Photo: Alexandros Michailidis.
You have repeatedly criticized what you call the ‘Melonization’ of European migration policy. To what extent has Giorgia Meloni succeeded in redefining the migration agenda not only in Italy but across the European Union itself?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Take a look at the Return Regulation. What happened? First, Meloni tried to strike a deal with neighbouring Albania in order to establish return hubs outside Italy through an agreement based on an exchange of money. But then, the Italian courts struck down what is, in my understanding, a sick idea. They rejected the initiative on the grounds of Italian law.
Meloni then went to the European Commission and essentially said: “Hey, listen, I need an umbrella. I need an EU umbrella for this because the Italian umbrella is not enough. The Italian courts are rejecting the legality of what I’m trying to do with Albania. We should put it into EU law.” And that is how they Melonized the return policy. They effectively elevated the Italian idea—the Meloni idea—to the European level. But the bad news is that the Return Regulation contradicts the very principle that migration and asylum legislation at the European level should be based on shared responsibility and binding solidarity. There is no shared responsibility in negotiating with a third-country ruler to establish a return hub financed by your own budget. There is no European added value in legalizing and Melonizing return policy and legislation.
There is simply no added value. It is left to the member states to negotiate. Of course, Spain is not compelled to do that. Spain is not doing it, as long as the Spanish government remains in progressive hands. But others may try. They may ask, “Why shouldn’t I pay the ruler of Tunisia? Why shouldn’t I pay some African dictator so that I can fly some Black people out of my country?” Of course, as I have already explained, the idea itself is evil-minded. To begin with, I heard many times during the negotiations: “Fly them to Rwanda.” And my question was always: “Why Rwanda?” Only because you think it makes no difference as long as they are Black. As long as they are Black, you think it doesn’t matter whether they are in Rwanda. It doesn’t matter whether they come from Mali, Niger, or Uganda—you simply fly them to Rwanda because, supposedly, it makes no difference there as long as they are Black.
Is that not racism? Is it racist? Absolutely racist. You have to care about people, about human beings. You cannot fly a Malian or a Nigerian to Rwanda because there is no purpose. There is simply no point in flying them to Rwanda just because you are paying Paul Kagame, the ruler of Rwanda for 35 years now. That is a preposterous idea. And yet, that is the Melonization of return policy.
Asylum Is a Right That Must Be Respected, Whatever the Cost
The Commission argues that stronger returns are indispensable for preserving public support for legal asylum. Is Europe sacrificing liberal constitutionalism in an attempt to save political legitimacy?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: Respect for asylum seekers must remain unwavering. The European Union is bound by international law, which includes both international humanitarian law and human rights. And, of course, the Geneva Convention relating to the protection of asylum seekers—the Refugee Convention—is international law, indeed one of the fundamental pillars of international law. So, yes, migration is a fact, not a crisis, not a threat. It is simply a fact. But you know what? Asylum is a right. It must be respected, no matter the cost, no matter what. It must be respected.
The problem is that there is now a prevailing idea within the current political landscape we have been discussing, one that is increasingly leaning to the right and the far right. That idea is that most asylum seekers are fraudulent. They are portrayed as economic migrants seeking better opportunities. According to this logic, they all have to be discouraged. Migrants are discouraged, and asylum seekers are discouraged as well. Because, as the ministers of the interior argue, most asylum seekers are actually fraudulent. They are not people being persecuted. They are not people whose physical integrity is at risk. They are simply people seeking better opportunities. So seeking asylum is presented as nothing more than legal advice given to them by their counsel. And they, too, have to be discouraged. That is deeply worrisome.
We should protect asylum seekers because that is part of the European Union’s identity and its commitment to human rights. It is both a fundamental principle and a legal obligation. Every member state, individually, is a signatory to the Geneva Convention. And the European Union itself is bound by international law, including international humanitarian law and human rights.
No Human Being Should Ever Be Described as Illegal
Disembarkation of 300 migrants from Libya from the German rescue ship Sea-Watch 3 in Pozzallo, Province of Ragusa, Italy, on June 9, 2022. Photo: Alec Tassi.
And lastly, you have warned that Europe risks normalizing practices that were once politically unthinkable. Looking beyond migration, do you see this normalization as part of a broader process of democratic backsliding within the European Union itself?
MEP Juan Fernando López Aguilar: We’ve got to care about it. I do care. I’m a fighter against that trend. I’ve always tried to stand up whenever I have seen signs of it unfolding before my eyes, here in the European Parliament and elsewhere. Of course, you can see that things are changing for the worse in the European Parliament in that regard as well.
For instance, when I first came to the European Parliament, no one talked about illegal migrants. They spoke about irregular arrivals, but never about illegal human beings. Now it’s the new normal. You hear it a thousand times in every plenary session in Strasbourg. And you know what? No one notices anymore. No one stands up anymore and says, “Hey, listen, this is unacceptable. Are you talking about illegal human beings or what?” That’s unacceptable.
Migrants are not guilty because they tried, even in the worst of circumstances. Take, for instance, the boats coming to El Hierro in the Canary Islands. We receive 46,000 people a year in the Canaries, arriving by wooden boats departing from the western coast of Africa. It is the most perilous and deadliest route to the European Union. The Atlantic is much rougher than the Mediterranean. The waves are much higher in the Atlantic. And you know what? None of those trying to reach the European Union through the Canary Islands—because the Canary Islands are part of the European Union, absolutely—ignores the risk of perishing in the attempt, the risk of losing their lives. And still they try.
When they sink to the bottom of the sea, tragically, they are, in effect, saying, “Hey, listen, I’m dying, but still I had to try. I do not regret it because I had to try.” It’s terrible. That means a great deal. It means they are not taking a frivolous step, or trying to commit fraud, or trying to be troublemakers, or trying to create problems, or bring their problems to a foreign land. They are trying to do something with their lives out of despair. And that life is the only one they have. They are willing to sacrifice it for the sake of making it. That deserves respect.
The point I’m making is that the new normal is losing that human understanding of the tragedy I am describing. Instead, through aggressive rhetoric, those human beings are portrayed as illegal, as an invasion, as a threat to your security or to your identity. That is completely unworthy of the European Union. The European Union should not be like that.
So, I’m a fighter. Whenever I see that happening in the European Parliament, I react. But still, the question is: how long will it go?