In this thought-provoking commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias argues that the dominant ideology underpinning contemporary right-wing movements is not populism or illiberalism, but nativism—a worldview centered on defending the “native” population against perceived external and internal threats. Drawing on theorists such as Cas Mudde, Ernesto Laclau, and Fareed Zakaria, Dr. Dias shows that while populism offers the form of political antagonism (“the people” versus “the elites”), nativism provides its substance: the protection of cultural and demographic identity against globalization and multiculturalism. Dr. Dias concludes that nativism’s emotional and existential appeal—rooted in fear of the “other” and longing for cultural homogeneity—has achieved social hegemony across much of the West.
We often speak of populism, the radical right, or illiberalism. Yet, to truly understand the rise and entrenchment of the contemporary right, we may need to shift our analytical lens toward nativism. What unites right-wing populist leaders with individuals such as Mr. Armando, the bakery owner; Ms. Aurora, a civil servant; Uncle Venâncio, a retiree; or José Maria, a private school student, is not a coherent philosophical conception of the state. It is something more elemental and psychological: the belief that globalization and multiculturalism—especially in the form of immigration—are dismantling national identities.
When radical right-wing populism first emerged, it proved difficult to classify. While it drew from the Nouvelle Droite (Taguieff, 1993), it also contained a performative, mobilizing dimension, and a radicalism based on the division of society into “us” and “them.”
Cas Mudde (2007), a leading scholar in the field, defined this populism as a “thin-centered ideology,” rooted in the binary logic of “the pure people” versus “the corrupt elites.” Ernesto Laclau (2005), in contrast, identified populism as a political logic—a way of constructing the political—rather than a specific ideological content.
Generally, the radical right populism of recent decades rests on a threefold structure: (i) the moral division between the “pure people” and the “corrupt elites”; (ii) the defense of national identity against multiculturalism; and (iii) the combat against the political left, viewed as conspiring against Western values and the traditional family.
From a governmentality perspective, Fareed Zakaria (1997) introduced the concept of “illiberal democracy” to describe regimes that maintain electoral institutions while eroding liberal principles: consolidating power in a charismatic executive, weakening checks and balances, politicizing the judiciary, and overriding constitutional limits in the name of majority will.
However, illiberalism, in my view, is either inextricably tied to the radical right, or it remains conceptually ambiguous. In fact, the radical left also exhibits illiberal tendencies—engaging in practices such as censorship or moral cancellation—but in favor of minorities and a coercive form of progressive social purification, rather than a majoritarian ethos. This suggests that illiberalism is not exclusive to the right, nor is it sufficient to describe its ideological nucleus.
The term nativism, although first used in 19th-century America to describe anti-immigration movements such as the Know Nothings or the Ku Klux Klan, reemerged in modern academic discourse in the 1950s, particularly through John Higham’s Strangers in the Land (1955). In that work, Higham captures the sense of alienation experienced by native populations facing rapid demographic and cultural transformation.
In the 1990s, as scholarly attention to populism intensified, Paul Taggart and Hans-Georg Betz argued that modern right-wing populism was characterized by a fusion of three elements: populism, nativism, and authoritarianism (Betz, 1994; Taggart, 2000). In the following decade, Cas Mudde (2007) identified nativism as the core ideology of these parties, and populism as their political form. Later refinements clarified this conceptual division: populism provides the structure—the antagonism between “the people” and “the elites”—while nativism offers the content, namely the opposition between natives and foreigners (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017).
This clarification substantiates the central argument of this essay: that nativism should be analyzed as an ideology. Let us consider why.
First, the populist discourse of “us” versus “them” is not exclusive to the radical right. It is equally present on the radical left, which often constructs a similar dichotomy between “the people” and “the elites,” or between the “majority” and “minorities.” The difference lies in the subject being defended and the identity politics at play, rather than in the structure of the discourse.
Second, the radical right is not uniformly illiberal. It exhibits significant internal variation. Many such parties and movements are illiberal with respect to morality—advocating traditionalist or exclusionary cultural values—while remaining economically liberal. Others, though equally illiberal in terms of cultural values (a sine qua non), adopt statist economic models, defending welfare policies but restricting their benefits to the native population. Thus, illiberalism is not a constant across the radical right, but nativism is. It constitutes the shared ideological foundation that allows for otherwise divergent policy positions.
This is why it may be more accurate and analytically fruitful to define these movements simply as nativist, and their ideology as nativism. This classification applies to both political elites and voters alike.
At its core, the ideology’s resonance lies in the perceived demographic threat, most radically articulated in Renaud Camus’ “Great Replacement” theory. This idea has circulated widely, in varying intensities and local adaptations, across Western societies. As native populations decline demographically—due to lower birth rates—and immigration brings culturally distinct newcomers, a so-called “perfect demographic storm” is formed: the “demographic winter” of the native population collides with the “demographic summer” of incoming groups.
The result is a growing sense of existential threat, particularly toward Muslim immigrants, who are seen as both culturally incompatible and demographically ascendant. This sense of threat fuels resentment toward multiculturalism and the progressive left, which is often held responsible for promoting it. What emerges is a feeling of estrangement in one’s own homeland—a central affective dimension of modern nativism.
In sum, the ideology that has achieved social hegemony in many Western societies today is best understood not as populism or illiberalism, but as nativism: a worldview centered on the defense of the native population’s perceived interests, identity, and territorial integrity. Those who support nativist movements are not primarily mobilized by economic platforms, but by a profound distrust of the “other.” This “other” is not necessarily blamed for stealing jobs, but for competing for scarce welfare resources—access to schools, healthcare, housing—or even for altering the cultural landscape of spaces that once symbolized familiarity and social cohesion.
Biology reminds us that the presence of the “other” is often the most basic trigger in the formation of the “we.” Thus, what we are witnessing is not merely populism or illiberalism, but nativism at its core—an instinctive social reaction which, when politicized, seeks to defend what is perceived as the homeland (the nation) and protect those considered its rightful heirs.
References
Betz, H.-G. (1994). Radical Right-Wing Populism in Western Europe. Palgrave Macmillan.
Higham, J. (1955). Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860–1925. Rutgers University Press.
Laclau, E. (2005). On Populist Reason. Verso.
Mudde, C. (2007). Populist Radical Right Parties in Europe. Cambridge University Press.
Mudde, C., & Rovira Kaltwasser, C. (2017). Populism: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press.
Taggart, P. (2000). Populism. Open University Press.
Taguieff, P. A. (1993). Origines et métamorphoses de la nouvelle droite. Vingtieme siecle. Revue d’histoire, 3-22.
Zakaria, F. (1997). The Rise of Illiberal Democracy. Foreign Affairs, 76(6), 22–43.
Moldova’s 2025 parliamentary elections mark a pivotal moment in the geopolitical tug-of-war between the European Union and Russia. Despite unprecedented hybrid interference—including disinformation, illicit financing, and the use of new technologies—the pro-European Party of Action and Solidarity (PAS) secured a decisive victory. Dr. Ecaterina Locoman cautions, however, that this success is “more of a temporary setback” for Moscow than a strategic defeat: “Russia will gather its resources again.” In this interview with ECPS, Dr. Locoman analyzes Moldova’s evolving democratic resilience, the adaptive strategies of Russian influence, the role of the diaspora, and the country’s ambitious EU accession goal. She underscores the importance of sustained domestic reform and Western engagement to keep Moldova on its “irreversible European path.”
Moldova’s 2025 parliamentary elections have emerged as a pivotal moment in the geopolitical contest between the European Union and Russia. Against a backdrop of unprecedented hybrid interference—including disinformation campaigns, illicit financing, and the use of new technologies—Moldova’s pro-European Party of Action and Solidarity (PAS) secured a decisive victory. Yet, as Dr. Ecaterina Locoman cautions in this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), this success must be understood as both real and fragile: “I expect that Russia will continue to influence domestic politics. It’s part of their strategic goal to regain control over the post-Soviet region, and I don’t think this should be read as a strategic loss. It’s more of a temporary setback, but they will gather their resources again.”
Dr. Locoman, Senior Lecturer at the Lauder Institute and in the Department of Political Science at the University of Pennsylvania, situates Moldova’s electoral resilience within a hybrid framework of domestic determination and external support. “We can interpret the results of the Moldovan elections as a hybrid outcome. On the one hand, they reflect a strong domestic effort—both from political institutions and voters—who showed remarkable resilience in the face of Russian interference and influence. On the other hand, it is also clear that without the support of Western partners, especially the European Union, this success would not have been possible. So, it’s both a domestic and international story.”
This resilience was manifested not only through institutional preparedness—such as stronger oversight of illicit financing and disinformation—but also through robust diaspora engagement and sustained voter mobilization. “The numbers show that 280,000 Moldovans abroad voted in the elections,” Dr. Locoman notes, highlighting how mail ballots and close transnational ties helped bolster the pro-EU vote. She underscores that “the diaspora is relatively young… they maintain very strong links to Moldovan politics and what is happening at home.”
At the same time, Moscow’s influence tactics are evolving. Russia experimented with “the use of AI and alternative financial methods, like cryptocurrency,” to obscure financial flows and spread propaganda. While these efforts ultimately proved less effective this cycle, Dr. Locoman warns against complacency: “Moscow is one of the best students of the post-Soviet region… they will learn from their own mistakes and improve their strategies in the next elections. This fight needs to continue.”
Looking ahead, Moldova’s ambition to join the European Union by 2030 faces both internal and external hurdles. Domestically, slow reforms, corruption, and economic vulnerabilities remain pressing concerns. Externally, geopolitical vetoes—most notably from Hungary—could obstruct accession negotiations. “I have some doubts—not fear, but doubts—about how quickly the situation can move by 2030,” Dr. Locoman admits. Yet she also maintains a note of cautious optimism: “Up until 2022, Moldova had been knocking on the EU’s doors for more than 30 years… and then, in the end, it happened.”
In this interview, Dr. Locoman offers a nuanced analysis of Moldova’s evolving democratic landscape, the adaptive strategies of Russian influence, and the strategic choices facing both Moldovan and European leaders in the years to come.
Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. Ecaterina Locoman, lightly edited for clarity and readability.
Resilience at Home, Support Abroad
National meeting of the Moldovan people with the flags of the European Union and the Republic of Moldova. Chisinau, Moldova, May 21, 2023. Photo: Andrei F.
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Moldova’s parliamentary elections delivered a decisive victory for the ruling pro-European Union PAS despite unprecedented Russian interference. Should we interpret this outcome as a durable consolidation of democratic resilience, or as a contingent success heavily dependent on extraordinary EU and Western support?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: Thank you very much for having me. It’s a pleasure to be here. I think we can interpret the results of the Moldovan elections as a hybrid outcome. On the one hand, they reflect a strong domestic effort—both from political institutions and voters—who showed remarkable resilience in the face of Russian interference and influence. On the other hand, it is also clear that without the support of Western partners, especially the European Union, this success would not have been possible. So, it’s both a domestic and international story.
Importantly, if we look back at the 2024 presidential elections and now the 2025 parliamentary elections, voters have chosen a similar direction. This indicates that democracy in Moldova, while perhaps not as strong or stable as one might wish, is nonetheless evolving. Moldovans and their institutions are working every day to strengthen it. We saw a high degree of voter mobilization despite significant Russian efforts, including disinformation campaigns, cyberattacks, and illicit financing. Voter turnout was relatively high at 52%, demonstrating strong civic engagement.
Compared to the 2024 presidential elections, domestic institutions such as the prosecutor’s office and the police clearly learned from past mistakes. They were better prepared to identify and address unlawful use of illicit funding and electoral violations. This helped build voter confidence in the electoral process. As in previous elections, diaspora engagement was also very strong, further contributing to democratic resilience. Overall, these factors point to an increased resilience among Moldovans in defending their democratic process.
Pro-Russian Messages Losing Ground
To what extent do the results reflect a deepening societal commitment to a pro-European orientation, as opposed to a rejection of entrenched pro-Russian elites such as Igor Dodon and his allies, whose populist appeals often fuse anti-elite rhetoric with civilizational tropes about Russia as Moldova’s “natural” ally?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: That’s a very good question. The results show that, again, the recent election, as well as those in 2024 and 2021, reflect a continuing trend that society as a whole is more or less committed to a pro-Western orientation. I travel to Moldova on a yearly basis, and I can see that the country has changed significantly in recent years since Maia Sandu became president. There is a very clear pro-European trend. That said, it’s true that we don’t have precise data on how many Moldovans live abroad. Every summer, many of them return, and perhaps my impression of the country is somewhat skewed because I visit during that period when a lot of diaspora members are back home. Still, the spirit in the country is very much pro-European.
It’s also true that there have been numerous reports on this topic. I have studied how both Russia and the West try to influence domestic politics in post-Soviet states, and my research shows that Russia has long been grooming local political actors in countries such as Ukraine, Moldova, Georgia, and Armenia. The fact that they were able to attract and cultivate specific types of political figures—such as Igor Dodon, for example, a former president of Moldova who now enjoys little popularity among large segments of the electorate—indicates that Moldovans are increasingly able to distinguish between leaders who genuinely seek to build a democratic, secure, and prosperous future for the country and those who do not.
Pro-Russian actors have not been particularly original or creative in how they promote their message. This message is losing ground, especially because of the war in Ukraine. It is no longer easy to “sell” this narrative. Previously, Moldovan politics often involved strategic shifts between Russia and the West, depending on which side best served domestic interests. Today, this approach is much harder to sustain. The war raging in neighboring Ukraine has made people more aware of the stakes, and Moldova has received a significant number of Ukrainian refugees. As a result, it has become much more difficult for pro-Russian parties to sell their message as effectively as before.
A Blessing in Disguise: Russia’s Unintended Push
Russian military expert at a government operations base, engaged in cyber activities aimed at spreading disinformation and hybrid warfare propaganda. Photo: Dragos Condrea.
With turnout just above 50%, what does this relative disengagement reveal about the durability of PAS’s mandate, and does persistent electoral apathy risk undermining the legitimacy of Moldova’s democratic consolidation over time?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: As I mentioned earlier, yes, the turnout was just over 50%, but this number is not unusually low for Moldova. In fact, compared to some recent elections in the region, 52% is relatively solid. However, you are right that it also signals that a significant portion of the electorate remains disengaged, which has implications for the durability of the ruling party’s mandate to govern over the next four years.
The fact that Maia Sandu’s party won elections for the second time is significant. They secured a clear majority of seats and resisted heavy Russian interference and influence. At the same time, much of their enthusiasm is concentrated during election periods, when the central question is whether the country is moving east or west. This enthusiasm does not always last throughout the full four-year governing period.
Moldovans are frustrated with the slow pace of reforms, the persistence of corruption, and the fact that judicial change has not progressed as quickly as many had hoped. Many voters remain disillusioned with these slow reforms, persistent poverty, and daily economic hardships. For this reason, it is especially important for the governing party to deliver results quickly—both to maintain its stated goal of joining the European Union and to ensure that its policies meet the expectations of the electorate.
In some ways, the Russian presence is acting as a “blessing in disguise.” Without the Russian threat at the border, Moldovan political parties might have been more complacent and less willing to pursue reforms. Because the threat is so close, it creates a greater sense of urgency among both political actors and the population to mobilize and align with the European Union.
What has changed significantly compared to previous elections—particularly over the past decade, since around 2010—is the unprecedented level of symbolic, technical, and financial support the European Union has provided to Maia Sandu and Moldovan political institutions. EU leaders have repeatedly visited Moldova and demonstrated their support, which is unprecedented in the country’s history.
In my own research, I found that since 1991, when Moldova declared independence from the USSR, one of its main foreign policy challenges has been ensuring that the West paid any attention to it at all. For many years, Moldova was on the radar only because of the Transnistrian conflict. As long as things were quiet and stable, there was little engagement. Now, however, Moldovan political elites—especially Maia Sandu—have succeeded in breaking through this indifference and convincing European leaders that Moldova is strategically important to the EU and its security.
Transnationalizing Moldovan Democracy
The diaspora played a decisive role in shaping the outcome. How should we understand this transnationalization of Moldovan democracy, especially given populist narratives at home that cast the diaspora as an illegitimate, “externalized” electorate undermining national sovereignty?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: That’s true. I like the expression you used—the transnationalization of Moldovan democracy. The numbers show that 280,000 Moldovans abroad voted in the elections. This is because the governing party recognized that much of their support comes from the diaspora, so they facilitated the voting process abroad. The introduction of mail ballots was a smart and strategic move, because people living in countries like the United States find it much easier to vote by mail than to go in person to Moldovan embassies or consulates. This was an important step, reflecting the fact that domestic political elites understood the crucial role the diaspora plays.
Another important factor is that the diaspora is relatively young. Most of those who have moved abroad are in their 50s, 40s, 30s, and 20s. They maintain very strong links to Moldovan politics and what is happening at home. Many have families in Moldova, so they remain deeply engaged, and I was pleased to see the high level of civic engagement among the diaspora, particularly their efforts to support and promote European integration.
It’s true that the more pro-Russia parties tend to portray the diaspora negatively. I think it was Igor Dodon who, at one point during a previous presidential election, referred to the diaspora as a “parallel electorate,” claiming that they don’t know what’s happening at home, that they live in the West and therefore want the country to join the West. He argued that they are disconnected from domestic realities, which is not true. The links between the diaspora and Moldova remain very strong.
If you visit in the summertime, you can see many young people and young families returning. In the 1990s and early 2000s, before Moldova had a visa-free regime with the EU, many Moldovans tried to work in the EU illegally. They often ended up stuck abroad, unable to return home, and the maximum support they could provide was through remittances.
Government building decorated with Moldovan and European Union flags, as well as national and EU symbols, in central Chisinau, Chisinau, Moldova on June 1, 2025. Photo: Gheorghe Mindru.
Now, because the EU has introduced a visa-free regime and many Moldovans have been able to obtain Romanian citizenship—thanks to Romania’s revised citizenship law allowing those who can prove family links from the interwar period when Moldova was part of Greater Romania to apply—many people have Romanian passports. This allows them to live and work legally in the EU.
As a result, many young families now live in European countries such as Germany, Belgium, and Great Britain during the year, but they build homes in Moldova, have parents and siblings there, and remain in close contact. So, it is not accurate to argue that the diaspora is disconnected from events at home. In fact, it is very much a part of what is happening domestically. As long as domestic political actors continue to engage the diaspora and maintain these connections, the pro-European movement will hopefully remain strong.
Hybrid Interference: New Tactics, Old Goals
Observers describe Moldova as a “laboratory” for Russia’s hybrid interference. From disinformation to illicit financing, what does the 2025 electoral cycle reveal about the adaptive limits of Moscow’s toolkit of influence?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: Yes, we’ve seen new models of influence that Russia has used in the elections. The use of AI and alternative financial methods, like cryptocurrency, for example, is new. They tried to hide financial links by using cryptocurrency, which, in a way, influenced the process. But, this also revealed the limits of Russian influence. I would add a caveat here: Moscow—indeed the Kremlin—is one of the best students of the post-Soviet region. They know the region very well and have people who have studied it in depth. So, I expect that they will learn from their own mistakes and improve their strategies in the next elections. This means that Moldova’s pro-European victory should not be seen as a sign that we can become complacent or self-sufficient. This fight needs to continue. As I said, Moscow is a very good student of the post-Soviet region. They understand the internal realities of these countries. They know the challenges that people face, the domestic weak points, and they try to exploit these to the advantage of their messages and narratives.
At the same time, many of these tools proved ineffective at this point in time because Moldovan institutions—and civil society as well—were more proactive than in past elections. Moldovan institutions learned important lessons from the last presidential elections. Parties engaged in illicit financing were excluded from the ballot, prosecutions were pursued, and the government was much more transparent in communicating about disinformation campaigns. As a result, people were much more aware of what was going on.
While the Russian toolkit has evolved technologically, its effectiveness is limited when met with resilient institutions, rapid countermeasures, and credible alternatives. If we look at one successful formula that worked in Moldova at this moment, I would still be cautious not to declare this the end of Russian interference. Russian influence will remain strong in the region. But what worked was a credible pro-EU message from domestic political parties, coupled with strong and credible support from the EU, which was very important. Additionally, the pro-Russia parties were not as original in their messaging, and the ongoing war in neighboring Ukraine further strengthened the pro-EU camp.
Exploiting Weak Links: Moscow’s Populist Playbook
The T-34 tank monument and the Parliament building in Tiraspol, Transnistria, Moldova. The tank is a decommissioned T-34, now part of the Memorial of Glory. Photo: Dreamstime.
In the light of your research on Russian influence strategies, how do you interpret Moscow’s reliance on populist-style appeals—framing EU integration as a betrayal of sovereignty, invoking fears of war, or portraying elites as “foreign agents”? Does the Moldovan case suggest a recalibration of these tactics compared to Ukraine or Georgia?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: What is happening in Moldova, again, links to what I was just saying in response to the previous question. When I think about Georgia, the support for a pro-EU orientation was very strong. Public opinion support was extremely high, but it was not enough. When Russia was able to find a credible, strong domestic political actor, it was able to promote its own interests inside Georgia. What is different in Moldova’s case right now is that there was both a credible pro-EU party and strong public opinion support for the European Union. Now, Russia does not necessarily rely only on populist-style appeals. They know the weaknesses in each of these countries—the weak links—and they try to use those for their own interests. One thing I have noticed is that as long as domestic political elites are smart and strategic in how they frame their political messaging, it matters a lot.
I will give an example. Since Moldova declared independence in 1991, one very big question has been whether the language spoken in Moldova is Romanian or Moldovan. Political campaigns and electoral strategies were often built around this division. More pro-EU, pro-Romanian parties argued that the language is Romanian, while more pro-Russia parties insisted it is Moldovan. In every electoral campaign, these pro-Russia political parties used such narratives to distract voters from real issues like economic problems and corruption.
What happened in the years since Maia Sandu came to power is that the Moldovan constitution was amended to enshrine that the language spoken in Moldova is Romanian. So now, there is no debate about it. Nobody is questioning it anymore. The point I want to make is that as long as domestic political elites manage to settle these kinds of debates—which are not central to everyday life—then it becomes much harder for pro-Russia political actors to exploit them. People’s income levels or quality of life do not depend on whether they call the language Romanian or Moldovan.
When the Russians spot these kinds of differences, they manipulate public opinion and can win. But if domestic political elites can agree and establish clear positions on such issues, it becomes much harder for pro-Russia actors to influence the public. For example, pro-Russia parties have strong backing in the Orthodox Church in Moldova, which is very influential. There were reports that some priests were used by the Kremlin to influence public opinion. But as long as there is clear messaging from mainstream political parties in Moldova that they are not anti-religion, that religion is respected and people are free to practice their faith, then it becomes harder for pro-Russian narratives—often based on fake realities—to take hold.
When people hear credible messages from their own political elites, it becomes much easier for them to discern truth from lies. Similarly, the narrative about war has become much harder for Russia to sell right now. Why? Because they are waging a war in neighboring Ukraine. It is much harder to claim that moving toward the EU will bring war when there is already a war caused by Russia next door. This narrative was more effective in earlier elections, but now, as long as the West continues to support Ukraine and Ukraine withstands the Russian attack, it will be much easier for Moldova to remain strong and maintain its pro-European orientation and stance.
Without Reforms, Western Support Won’t Be Enough
How sustainable is Moldova’s reliance on Western partners for countering hybrid threats, given persistent vulnerabilities such as corruption, weak institutions, and economic hardship?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: This is a very good question. I think about it very often. As much as Russian influence may be a blessing in disguise—in the sense that it mobilizes people at home to work hard and pushes political parties to deliver on their promises and act quickly—the support from the European Union, and even from the United States, is the best thing that can happen to Moldova. As long as the EU remains invested in Moldova, we will be able to maintain our pro-European path more easily.
One fear I have is that we might become complacent, assuming that the EU or the West will always come to our rescue and that we can simply continue doing whatever we are doing internally. When I go to Moldova, I often hear people—business people, entrepreneurs—complaining that not much has changed compared to 10 or 15 years ago. Corruption is still rampant. In order to obtain permits to build something, for example, you still need to pay someone in the government. This is unfortunate, and people are aware of it.
My conclusion is that domestic political parties must understand that this is a “make it or break it” moment. If they do not deliver on the promises they have made, it will become much easier for political actors in Moldova who promote Russian interests to regain power. And once that happens, it will be much, much harder to get Moldova out of Russia’s embrace. So, I think it depends very much on the willingness of the ruling party right now, and Maia Sandu, to deliver on the reforms they have promised.
A Temporary Setback, Not a Strategic Defeat
Do Moldova’s elections signal a broader decline in Russia’s ability to project influence across the post-Soviet space, or should Moscow’s defeat here be read as tactical rather than strategic?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: As I shared earlier, I do not think this is a Russian defeat in the long term. Russia is very adept at adjusting its messaging and tactics, not only with respect to the post-Soviet region but also to the wider EU region. They will learn from their mistakes and continue to influence domestic politics in Moldova, as much as we might not like it. Even if the political actors they supported did not win as many seats in Parliament as they initially hoped, we can look at the first four years of Maia Sandu’s party in government.
Basically, these previous four years were devoted to crisis management. Yes, it’s true, initially it was the COVID pandemic, but then the war in Ukraine, caused by Russia, turned everything upside down in Moldova. So instead of focusing on judicial reforms and economic development, as the party had initially promised and as Maia Sandu stated, they had to adjust. I think they managed—they were successful in delivering some of the promises made during the electoral campaign—but it was ten times harder.
I expect that Russia will continue to influence domestic politics. It’s part of their strategic goal to regain control over the post-Soviet region, and I don’t think this should be read as a strategic loss. It’s more of a temporary setback, but they will gather their resources again. Therefore, both Moldovan and European Union leaders need to stay on their toes, remain alert, and be careful about the next steps so they are prepared to counteract those measures.
EU Accession: Between Optimism and Doubt
Nicolae Ciucă (L), President of the National Liberal Party, Ursula von der Leyen (C), President of the European Commission, and Maia Sandu (R), President of Moldova, during the plenary session of the 2024 EPP Congress in Bucharest on March 6, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.
And lastly, Dr. Locoman, President Sandu has tied her mandate to enshrining an “irreversible European path.” How realistic is Moldova’s aim to achieve EU accession by 2030, given the scale of domestic reforms required and potential geopolitical vetoes within the Union?
Dr. Ecaterina Locoman: Recently, Maia Sandu visited Copenhagen. Denmark hosted a major summit with key EU leaders. Ukraine was there, Maia Sandu was there, and there were reports that they were hoping Hungary would be persuaded not to veto the right of Ukraine and Moldova to start accession negotiations. However, Hungary was not persuaded. So the only hope they have right now is that there will be a political change in Budapest, allowing this to move forward.
A lot of the frustration I hear among policymakers in Moldova, when it comes to the EU, is that they are disappointed the European Union decided to put Moldova and Ukraine in the same bucket for European integration. There were hopes that Moldova would be decoupled, that it would go its own way, and Ukraine would go its own way. But the Europeans still seem to favor moving forward together as a group.
A fear I have is that Moldova is much smaller than Ukraine. Yes, domestic reforms need to be done, but as long as there is political will, it is possible to achieve them. I share a bit of the concern raised in the question. I am afraid that if the situation continues as it is now, Moldova might face the same fate as the Western Balkans over the past 20 years. The door was opened for them too, but then they stalled, and no real progress has been made, apart from Croatia joining the EU.
So, I have some doubts—not fear, but doubts—about how quickly the situation can move by 2030. Is this truly realistic? But then again, up until 2022, Moldova had been knocking on the EU’s doors for more than 30 years, asking for candidate status, and the EU kept saying no. And then, in the end, it happened. Yes, it was because of the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and it was unfortunate that this was the trigger, but it happened. So I try to stay optimistic and hope that by 2030, Moldova will be able to join the EU.
In an interview with ECPS, Dr. Cristian Cantir (Oakland University) described Moldova’s 2025 parliamentary elections as “a major win for the European Union and a major defeat for the Kremlin.” Despite massive Russian interference—including vote-buying, cryptocurrency transfers, and efforts to incite unrest—Moldovan institutions responded with unprecedented consistency, demonstrating what Dr. Cantir calls a “confirmation of Moldova’s democratic resilience.” Yet, he warns that Moscow remains influential through populist narratives exploiting poverty and weak institutions. The results, he argues, reflect both the enduring popularity of EU integration and the failures of pro-Russian opposition parties. For Dr. Cantir, Moldova offers a striking example of how Russian influence faces diminishing returns when met with institutional strength and sustained Western support.
The outcome of Moldova’s 2025 parliamentary elections has been widely interpreted as a defining moment in the country’s European trajectory and its long struggle to resist Russian influence. In an interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Cristian Cantir, Associate Professor of Political Science at Oakland University, framed the results in stark geopolitical terms: “At a macro level, I would say this election represents a major win for the European Union and a major defeat for the Kremlin. I think it’s fair to frame it in those terms as a general way of understanding what happened.”
Dr. Cantir’s assessment reflects not only the electoral success of the pro-European Action and Solidarity Party (PAS), but also the broader resilience of Moldova’s democratic institutions in the face of Moscow’s sustained interference campaigns. International observers judged the elections to be generally free and fair, even amid bomb threats, electoral violations, and widespread attempts at corruption. As Dr. Cantir explains, this points to a “confirmation of Moldova’s democratic resilience,” if not yet full consolidation, as state institutions and law enforcement demonstrated an increased capacity to respond to hybrid threats.
Russia’s interference toolkit—long tested in Moldova—appeared less effective in this cycle. The Kremlin poured more resources into the effort, funding political actors, experimenting with cryptocurrency transfers, and attempting to stoke unrest. Yet, Dr. Cantir argues, these strategies delivered “diminishing returns” in a political environment where institutions had grown more proactive. “Moscow has been somewhat taken aback by the extent to which Moldovan institutions have now responded in such a consistent way to Russian interference,” he observes. The shift suggests that the Kremlin’s approach is increasingly constrained by its own reliance on disinformation and narratives fed by loyal pro-Russian politicians, which often fail to reflect the realities of Moldovan society. As Dr. Cantir notes, “some of the claims you see in Russian propaganda are so laughable and rudimentary… you wonder whether they actually believe them, because they don’t even work as propaganda.”
Still, Russia remains a formidable actor in Moldova’s domestic politics. Populist narratives that exploit socioeconomic hardship, corruption, and weak institutions continue to resonate with segments of the population, leaving Moldova’s pro-European course vulnerable to authoritarian retrenchment. Dr. Cantir highlights the need for PAS and other pro-EU forces to demonstrate tangible benefits of integration to disengaged citizens, warning that otherwise they may fall “much more easily to populist messaging” that is Eurosceptic and pro-Russian in nature.
Ultimately, the Moldovan case illustrates both the persistence and limitations of Russia’s hybrid influence operations in the post-Soviet space. Unlike Ukraine or Georgia, where Moscow has resorted to military force, Moldova demonstrates how resilience is possible when domestic institutions respond effectively and Western partners provide consistent support. As Dr. Cantir emphasizes, this election represents more than just a partisan victory—it is a symbolic moment of geopolitical realignment: a triumph for Europe, and a setback for the Kremlin.
Here is the transcript of our interview with AssociateProfessor Cristian Cantir, lightly edited for clarity and readability.
Moldova’s Elections Confirm Democratic Resilience
A man casts his ballot during parliamentary elections in Moldova, in front of the national flag. Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Cristian Cantir, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How would you characterize the broader significance of Moldova’s 2025 parliamentary elections, particularly in the light of the pro-European Action and Solidarity Party’s (PAS) ability to withstand unprecedented Russian interference campaigns? To what extent can this outcome be read as a genuine consolidation of Moldova’s democratic resilience, and to what degree is it contingent upon extraordinary external support from the EU and its allies?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: Thank you very much for inviting me. It’s a pleasure to be here, and I’m always glad to talk about Moldova—a topic that doesn’t usually get much attention in international affairs. At a macro level, I would say this election represents a major win for the European Union and a major defeat for the Kremlin. I think it’s fair to frame it in those terms as a general way of understanding what happened.
To the extent that it was generally a free and fair election, according to most international observers—even in the face of massive Russian interference—it was consistent with Moldova’s tradition of holding competitive elections since independence. I would take this as a positive sign of the relative health of Moldovan democracy. The process was conducted competently, with electoral authorities and law enforcement responding promptly to challenges, including bomb threats, reported violations, and instances of electoral corruption. From that standpoint, it serves as a solid example—not necessarily a consolidation, but certainly a confirmation—of Moldova’s democratic resilience. Of course, there remain significant challenges to Moldova’s democratic consolidation, but overall the outcome is good news for the country’s democracy.
I do think the election results can be partly attributed to external EU support, but it’s important to refine this point by highlighting one individual in particular—Moldovan President Maia Sandu. Sandu is a unique figure, not only in Moldova’s political history but also in the broader Central and Eastern European context. She has consistently been a popular, anti-corruption, reformist, pro-European leader. Many of the criticisms and attacks directed at her by the pro-Russian opposition have not gained much traction. She has remained highly popular within Moldova, due in part to her strong international reputation, especially among EU politicians. In this sense, when we talk about external influence, it is really a combination of two factors: Sandu’s personal popularity and the EU’s admiration for, and support of, her during this campaign. That said, I would not be so confident in giving the ruling party, PAS, too much credit for the victory. There remain fundamental issues with PAS as a pro-EU force, which we can also discuss further.
Moldovans Voted for Europe, Not PAS
Do the results primarily reflect a deepening consolidation of Moldova’s pro-European trajectory, or are they better understood as a rejection of entrenched pro-Russian elites such as Igor Dodon and his allies? In other words, should we interpret the outcome as an ideological commitment to Europe or as an electoral repudiation of discredited political actors?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: We could start by noting that EU integration is genuinely popular with a majority of the Moldovan population. Most polls confirm this, and even the 2024 referendum—though decided by a razor-thin margin—pointed to its broad appeal. That narrow margin can be attributed, at least in part, to vote-buying allegations and to the pro-Russian opposition framing the referendum as a judgment on PAS, the ruling party, rather than on the EU itself. Since PAS has become almost synonymous with the pro-EU position, this image has limited the viability of any other pro-European force. As a result, most pro-EU Moldovans voted for PAS, even if they were frustrated with the party’s slow response to major challenges such as poverty or judicial reform. To some extent, then, the outcome reflects support for EU integration combined with the absence of credible alternatives. Much of the vote was strategic: it did not necessarily indicate satisfaction with PAS as a party or with its performance, but rather the lack of any real choice.
The other parties in the election can also be faulted for failing to develop a narrative that offered a genuine alternative to PAS. Many claimed to support some degree of EU integration—even pro-Russian parties promised to negotiate more with Brussels. They tried to emphasize sovereignty and introduced socially conservative themes aimed at countering what they viewed as the EU’s liberal values. Yet this did not resonate with most Moldovans, as it came across as vague messaging—essentially, “we will slow down EU integration,” without explaining what that would mean or why it was necessary. By contrast, tangible benefits such as visa-free travel or lower roaming fees—everyday concerns tied directly to EU integration—proved far more compelling. As a result, the opposition’s alternative was unclear and largely reduced to a promise of “we are not the current political elites.”
The results, therefore, can be attributed both to the continuing popularity of the EU and to the weakness of the opposition leaders. Their campaigns were driven more by resentment of the ruling party and calls to “purge the system,” or what they called “the regime,” than by any proactive or positive electoral platform.
Moldovan President Maia Sandu speaks at a press conference following her meeting with Bulgarian President Rumen Radev in Chișinău, Moldova, on October 27, 2022. Photo: Dreamstime.
Diaspora Has Become the Backbone of Moldova’s Pro-EU Course
The Moldovan diaspora appears to have played a decisive role in shaping the electoral outcome. How should we understand the implications of this phenomenon for the transnationalization of Moldovan democracy, particularly regarding questions of sovereignty, external leverage, and the construction of a political community that extends well beyond national borders?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: The question of the Moldovan diaspora is particularly interesting, as it has been essential in consolidating Moldova’s pro-EU course, especially in recent years. Voting has also become much easier for diaspora members, particularly in Western countries, which is where most diaspora ballots are cast. As a result, the Moldovan diaspora is strongly pro-Western in its orientation—overwhelmingly so, judging by the last few elections.
With some exceptions, the Moldovan diaspora is relatively recent, with the first wave beginning in the 1990s. Attachments to the homeland remain very strong, and personal connections are still close. Travel has also become much easier—for example, low-cost airlines have made going back and forth far more accessible. And because most Moldovans abroad now reside legally, there is far less fear than in the 1990s and 2000s, when many migrated illegally or crossed borders without visas and were hesitant to return. For all these reasons, the diaspora’s ties to Moldova remain particularly strong.
The diaspora has not yet developed a separate identity; it remains very much rooted in Moldova. For example, if you visit Moldova in August, it is striking—you hear Moldovan children speaking with Portuguese accents in shops, and it becomes difficult to get a dentist appointment because so many diaspora members return home for treatment. This illustrates how deeply the diaspora remains part of Moldovan society. The ruling PAS, like other parties, has been very friendly and encouraging toward the diaspora. There are events organized exclusively for them, success stories highlighted in the media, and programs inviting them to return and share their experiences. There is also considerable gratitude for remittances, which have helped offset some of the country’s socioeconomic inequalities.
It is also important to remember that Moldovans’ understanding of sovereignty has always carried a transnational dimension. Many have looked to Romania for cultural and ethnic identity markers, while others have looked to Russia. As a result, Moldovans are more accustomed to hybrid and multiple identities. They can remain deeply connected both to the countries where they now live and to Moldovan politics—connections that are further strengthened by technology such as Facebook, online news, and live-streamed broadcasts.
The picture becomes more complicated when we look at the politicization of the diaspora, particularly by pro-Russian forces. Because the diaspora is strongly supportive of pro-Western groups, pro-Russian politicians have advanced a narrative—especially visible in recent years—that Moldovans inside the country oppose PAS, while those abroad support it. The argument is that Moldova’s diaspora is effectively holding those who remain at home hostage to the PAS regime. Pro-Russian groups have been trying to inflame tensions between these two communities. Igor Dodon, Moldova’s most prominent pro-Russian politician, has even described the diaspora as a “parallel electorate.” Another pro-Russian politician, Irina Vlah, has pursued what can only be described as an unusual campaign, promoting narratives such as asking Moldovans to “adopt” a fellow citizen inside the country who is suffering under the pro-EU PAS. I would not be surprised if such narratives continue to spread and further deepen tensions between diaspora communities and Moldovans still at home.
Finally, one more point: Russia’s invasion of Ukraine and its interference in Moldovan politics has highlighted an unresolved issue concerning the Moldovan diaspora in Russia. Estimates of the diaspora there range from about 100,000 to several hundred thousand people. Because of Russian interference, Moldovan authorities have opened only a minimal number of polling stations, most of them in Moscow. Given the vast size of Russia, this makes it much more difficult for Moldovans living there to cast their ballots. Authorities argue that this limitation is necessary to ensure ballot security, but it leaves unresolved the broader problem of how to guarantee equal voting rights for all members of the diaspora, regardless of where they reside. This remains a pressing question that Moldovan politicians will eventually have to address, even though, for now, it has been overshadowed by Russia’s interference.
Former Moldovan President Igor Dodon attends a Party of Socialists meeting in Bălți, Moldova, on October 17, 2021. Photo: Iuri Gagarin.
Low Turnout Makes Moldova Vulnerable to Populist Messaging
With voter turnout just above 50%, what does the relative disengagement of a significant portion of the electorate reveal about the legitimacy and durability of PAS’s mandate? To what extent does persistent electoral apathy constrain the prospects for long-term democratic consolidation and weaken the societal foundations of Moldova’s pro-European orientation?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: I want to make a quick statistical note first. The 2024 Moldovan Census identified about 2.3 to 2.4 million Moldovans in the country with stable residency. Meanwhile, the electoral rolls from the Central Electoral Commission list close to 300,000 Moldovans abroad, which doesn’t quite capture reality. In fact, there are many more Moldovans who still hold residency but live or work abroad. This makes turnout somewhat harder to assess in Moldova, given the fragmented data we have.
That said, the general premise of the question still holds, because the turnout percentage does indicate a degree of disengagement. This poses a problem for PAS and for Moldova’s pro-European orientation. People who are disengaged—who don’t feel invested in Moldova’s pro-EU path or don’t perceive clear benefits from EU integration—are much more susceptible to populist messaging. In Moldova, such messaging tends to be Eurosceptic and pro-Russian. As a result, these citizens may be more easily mobilized by populist politicians, giving those actors greater institutional power to undermine EU integration.
For this reason, demonstrating the tangible benefits of EU integration to more apathetic groups should be a key part of PAS’s strategy. Otherwise, we may see rising support for populist politicians. A few have already begun to gain visibility—there are two in particular I could highlight—but the broader risk of growing populist appeal is certainly there.
Russia May Be Falling Victim to Its Own Propaganda in Moldova
Observers have described Moldova as a “laboratory” for Russia’s hybrid interference strategies. In your assessment, what does the 2025 electoral cycle reveal about both the adaptive capacities and structural limitations of Moscow’s toolkit of influence? Can we speak of a paradigmatic shift in the Kremlin’s approach, or are we witnessing the persistence of familiar strategies with diminishing returns?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: That’s a really good question. The simplest answer is that we don’t know yet, and there’s a reason for that. The 2025 election was marked by greater intensity and a wider range of Kremlin interference efforts. They invested more money, backed more political actors, and became more involved in attempts to stoke violence and protests. Yet none of these efforts proved particularly effective.
There are a couple of points to keep in mind here. First of all, Moldovan law enforcement and the broader institutional response have become more active, dealing more effectively—even compared to 2024—with clear cases of electoral interference. This included vote buying, the use of cryptocurrency to transfer funds, and the use of cash for illegal financing. Another important factor in understanding the Kremlin’s difficulties in Moldova is that, for a long time, Russia had grown accustomed to acting with relative impunity there. Even when pro-European or centrist coalitions were in power, Moldovan institutions and politicians were rarely proactive in curbing Russian influence. At best, they ignored Moscow’s efforts; at worst, pro-Russian politicians openly reinforced them. I think Moscow has been somewhat taken aback by the consistency with which Moldovan institutions have now responded to Russian interference.
So, I don’t know if we are going to see a full shift in the Kremlin’s approach, but I do think there is more re-evaluation and discussion about how it might adjust its strategies. One additional point is that the Kremlin actually knows a great deal about Moldova—more so than many in the West. The problem, however, is that it continues to rely heavily on information fed by pro-Russian politicians, who often promote narratives that are simply inaccurate. For example, the claim by some pro-Russian groups that EU integration is not popular in Moldova is simply not true. It’s difficult to tell whether the Kremlin and its allies are falling victim to their own narratives, which distort their understanding of Moldovan dynamics and render their strategies less effective. That’s something I’ve often thought about, because some of the claims you see in Russian propaganda are so laughable and rudimentary. You start to wonder whether they actually believe them, since they don’t even work effectively as propaganda. That’s how rudimentary they are.
Pro-Russian supporters attend Victory Day celebrations on May 9 in Chișinău, Moldova. Alongside World War II veterans displaying their medals, members of the public dressed in Soviet-era military uniforms highlighted the enduring strength of Russian influence. Photo: Dreamstime.
Moldova Now Frames Itself as Belonging in Europe
In the light of your previous work on Moldova’s foreign policy balancing, how would you assess Chisinau’s current capacity to resist Moscow’s strategies of destabilization, particularly given Russia’s reliance on authoritarian-style tactics such as elite capture, patronage networks, and the exploitation of populist narratives?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: When it comes to balancing, we’ve seen a noticeable shift. The perception of the EU as a counterbalance to Russia—once more prominent among pro-Russian or centrist groups—was grounded in the idea that Moldova should extract benefits from all its major geopolitical partners. That view has given way to a more cultural and identity-based argument. The ruling pro-European group now frames Moldova as inherently European, emphasizing that the country “belongs in Europe” and should “go home” to Europe.
As a result, the EU is now articulated less as a strategic tool for Moldova’s foreign policy goals and more as a natural place of belonging for Moldovans. Pro-Russian parties still advance the balancing argument, but it has been severely undermined by Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022. They have not substantially re-evaluated or adjusted their rhetoric since then, but the post-2022 context is fundamentally different. Thus, the balancing argument no longer carries the same weight. While it still registers some support in polling data, it is far less compelling from a political standpoint.
With respect to elite capture, the Kremlin is beginning to understand that Moldovan institutions are responding more coherently to Russian threats. Some of its old patronage networks or elite-capture strategies are not working as effectively because Moldovan law enforcement is pushing back. One example of this would be Russia’s attempts to infiltrate Moldovan politics or encourage spying, which the Moldovan Secret Service has been more proactive in addressing. I’m not sure how the Kremlin will deal with this particular problem.
That said, the Kremlin still retains significant power when it comes to the populist narratives, and the vulnerabilities they exploit. Given Moldova’s socioeconomic issues, including high rates of poverty, these vulnerabilities can be easily leveraged by populist politicians, and consequently by pro-Kremlin groups as well.
Odessa Looms Large in Moldova’s Strategic Calculus
What does the Moldovan case tell us about Russia’s evolving approach to influence operations in the post-Soviet space, especially compared to its tactics in Ukraine or Georgia?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: One of the key differences between Ukraine and Georgia is that, where Russia lacks either the ability or the immediate interest to engage in military action—as opposed to what it is doing in Ukraine or what it did in Georgia—its influence operations become less effective when faced with strong institutional responses and consistent support from Moldova’s allies. Because direct military threats are not immediate, Moldova has more space to resist Russian influence.
This dynamic is often reflected in discussions by Moldovan politicians about Odessa. Odessa looms large in Moldovan politics, because if the city were to fall, the strategic calculus would change significantly. If Odessa does not fall, and if Ukraine continues to resist the Russian army in southern Ukraine and around Odessa specifically, it will be considerably easier for Moldova to counter influence operations without the constant pressure of an imminent military threat.
Hybrid Warfare Is a Transnational Problem—It Requires a Transnational Response
Russian military expert at a government operations base, engaged in cyber activities aimed at spreading disinformation and hybrid warfare propaganda. Photo: Dragos Condrea.
How sustainable is Moldova’s reliance on Western partners for countering hybrid threats, given the country’s domestic vulnerabilities such as corruption, weak institutions, and economic hardship?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: That’s a good point. Ideally, you would want a sovereign state with strong institutions, fewer socioeconomic problems, and a consistent fight against corruption. That would give it the capacity to resist Russian influence more effectively without significant outside support. The European Union also needs to focus on those factors—tackling corruption, strengthening institutions, and addressing economic hardship.
At the same time, Moldova’s reliance on Western partners to counter Russian hybrid warfare is unavoidable, because this is not only Moldova’s problem. To the extent that it is a transnational challenge, it requires a transnational and coordinated response. Moldova cannot and should not handle this alone. Long-term, institutionalized cooperation with the EU is essential—both because Russian hybrid attacks extend beyond Moldova and because Moldova’s own capacities remain limited. Even if Moldova had strong governance and robust institutions, it would still need to work closely with the European Union to meet this particular threat.
Polarization in Moldova Is Fluid, Not Fixed
How realistic is Moldova’s aim to achieve EU accession by 2030, given both the demanding structural reforms and potential geopolitical vetoes within the Union, and in what ways might deep internal polarization between pro-European and pro-Russian constituencies undermine the legitimacy of this process by opening space for populist mobilization and authoritarian retrenchment?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: Internal geopolitical polarization is a serious problem in Moldova, but it is also important to remember that polarization is a fluid phenomenon. Polling, for instance, used to show much stronger support for integration with Russian projects even 10 or 20 years ago, and much less support for NATO membership. This shows that polarization can shift over time.
The strategy of Moldovan authorities has been to make a compelling economic, or quality-of-life, case for EU integration, even in regions where the political dimension of integration is less popular. In places like Gagauzia and parts of northern Moldova, the aim is to erode polarization by demonstrating the tangible economic benefits of closer ties with the EU. If successful, this could help offset some of the effects of geopolitical polarization by easing tensions.
So, the biggest question isn’t really polarization, but whether pro-EU forces can articulate and illustrate the benefits of EU integration clearly to more people, including those in pro-Russian propaganda bubbles. To a large extent, integration by 2030 is driven more by the speed with which Moldovan authorities can enact reforms, by developments in the Russian invasion of Ukraine, and also by the situation in Transnistria—which we can talk about—and what exactly Moldovan authorities are going to do with that separatist region.
The Cyprus Model Is a Real Option for Moldova
Monument to Vladimir Lenin in front of the Parliament building in Tiraspol, Transnistria, Moldova. Photo: Dreamstime.
Given the persistence of Russian troops in Transnistria, how does the unresolved status of the region constrain Moldova’s European ambitions and its sovereignty more broadly?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: The number of Russian troops in Transnistria isn’t sufficient to threaten Moldova’s European ambitions or its sovereignty. Greater risks could come from a hypothetical mobilization of a large part of the Transnistrian population during a potential conflict, but that scenario carries its own difficulties. Nor does the Russian military presence pose an immediate threat to sovereignty in the sense that Moldova is able to control most of its territory fairly effectively, aside from Transnistria. In that respect, it is not an urgent danger.
The war in Ukraine has also constrained Transnistria’s potentially aggressive orientation, or even its foreign policy toward Ukraine, Moldova, and the EU more broadly. Within Moldova, there is a growing sense that EU integration must move forward and can happen without Transnistria. Moldovan authorities have explicitly stated that it is possible for Moldova to join the EU first, using the Cyprus model. Cyprus is a common example cited by Moldovan officials and has even been echoed by former EU leaders. José Manuel Barroso, for instance, recently affirmed that the Cyprus model is indeed a possibility for Moldova.
At this stage, Chișinău does not view Transnistria as an obstacle to EU integration. Instead, it argues that pre-integration measures demonstrating the economic benefits of EU membership will gradually draw Transnistria closer. If necessary, Moldova can join the EU without Transnistria and then work toward integrating the region into the Union over the longer term.
Populists Give Moscow Veto Power over Moldova’s EU Path
Lastly, Professor Cantir, what scenarios do you consider most plausible for the future of the Transnistria conflict: gradual reintegration under EU auspices, continued limbo, or renewed escalation tied to Russia’s strategic setbacks in Ukraine? And in any of these scenarios, how might populist or authoritarian actors instrumentalize the issue domestically to challenge Moldova’s European orientation?
Assoc. Prof. Cristian Cantir: The most important point to note—the elephant in the room—is that everything depends on how Russia’s invasion of Ukraine unfolds. If Ukraine manages to resist in the south and hold Odessa, then what we are most likely to see, at least in the short term, is the maintenance of the status quo. The EU would continue efforts to trade with, develop, and engage local organizations in Transnistria—essentially trying to connect the region more closely to Europe, with the long-term goal of gradual reintegration. That will be the general orientation, or at least the attempt, always contingent on developments in Ukraine and particularly in Odessa.
When it comes to the question of populist or authoritarian actors instrumentalizing the issue, one of the biggest patterns to watch in the next few years in Moldova is how they frame the argument about the Cyprus model. PAS has argued that Moldova can join the EU without Transnistria first. By contrast, many other actors—including pro-Russian politicians in the Patriotic Bloc, the largest opposition group in Parliament, as well as Alternativa, a centrist, self-defined pro-EU bloc—have insisted that Moldova must not enter the EU without Transnistria. In effect, this position grants Transnistria—and, to some extent, Moscow—veto power over Moldova’s EU integration aspirations.
So, populist politicians and authoritarian actors in Moldova will seek to instrumentalize the Transnistria issue by insisting that the country must not—and cannot—join the EU without first resolving the conflict. This, of course, significantly prolongs the timeline and effectively ties Moldova’s European integration to Moscow’s willingness to settle the dispute.
“Transitional Nepal may face real dangers from rising religious populism,” cautions Dr. DB Subedi, lecturer in Peace and Conflict Studies at the University of Queensland, in an interview with the ECPS. While the September 2025 youth-led uprising signaled a break with entrenched corruption, nepotism, and elite capture, Dr. Subedi warns that Nepal’s weak secularism leaves space for actors seeking to reinstate Hindu statehood. Such a trajectory, he argues, risks fusing populist nationalism with sectarian identity—posing a greater threat than conventional elite dominance. Yet he also sees in Gen Z’s unprecedented mobilization the embryonic signs of a participatory, post-elitist democracy. Much depends, he stresses, on whether Nepal’s interim government can ensure a smooth, accountable transition to elections.
“Transitional Nepal may face real dangers from rising religious populism,” warns Dr. DB Subedi, a leading scholar of peace and conflict studies at the University of Queensland, Australia. In an exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Subedi argues that while Nepal’s September 2025 uprising carries the seeds of a more participatory, post-elitist democracy, the country also risks sliding into a form of exclusionary right-wing politics. Having been the world’s only Hindu state until 2015, Nepal is now formally secular but only weakly so in practice. Everyday political life continues to be saturated with religion, leaving space for political actors and interest groups who seek to reinstate Hindu statehood. In Dr. Subedi’s assessment, this trajectory could open the door to religious populism—an outcome more dangerous than other forms of elite capture because it fuses populist nationalism with sectarian identity.
Yet, Dr. Subedi stresses, the September uprising cannot be reduced to a story of risks alone. It is also a product of deep structural inequalities, socioeconomic stagnation, and the frustrations of a digitally native generation. What began as a protest against the Oli government’s ban on 26 social media platforms quickly crystallized into a mass youth-led revolt against corruption, nepotism, and elite reproduction. The protests were unprecedented in scale, non-hierarchical in organization, and notable for their broad public legitimacy. Dr. Subedi sees in this horizontal mobilization the embryonic forms of a post-elitist democracy, rooted less in patronage or coercion and more in inclusive participation.
Placing Nepal within a wider regional frame, Dr. Subedi draws parallels with Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya (2022) and Bangladesh’s anti-quota protests (2024). Across these South Asian contexts, the drivers are strikingly similar: generational exclusion from politics, widening socioeconomic inequality, and a pervasive sense of injustice. In each case, social media functioned both as a catalyst and as connective tissue, transforming diffuse frustrations into coordinated movements. Yet Nepal’s fragile secularism makes it particularly vulnerable to the instrumentalization of religion by authoritarian populists, as has been evident in Bangladesh.
For Dr. Subedi, the stakes of the coming months are therefore clear. Much depends on whether the interim civilian government—tasked with organizing elections within six months under the leadership of former Chief Justice Sushila Karki—can ensure a smooth, legitimate transfer of power. The challenge lies not only in delivering credible elections but also in holding past regimes accountable for corruption and abuses of power, while simultaneously preventing a populist-nationalist hijack of the transitional moment.
In the conversation that follows, Dr. Subedi provides a detailed analysis of Nepal’s September uprising, reflecting on its social, economic, and political roots, situating it in the broader South Asian context, and sounding a critical warning about the dangers of religious populism in Nepal’s fragile democracy.
Here is the transcript of our interview with Dr. DB Subedi, lightly edited for clarity and readability.
A Revolution Born of Structural Inequalities and a Youth Bulge
Nepal Protests 2025 — Demonstrators, largely Gen Z, rally against the government’s ban on 26 social media platforms, including WhatsApp, Instagram, and Facebook. Police presence and Nepalese flags marked the nationwide unrest. Photo: Tetiana Strilchuk.
Professor Subedi, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Analysts describe the September 2025 uprising as a Gen Z revolution, yet youth mobilization in Nepal has a long genealogy. From your perspective, what specific social, economic, and political configurations enabled this generation to rupture the cycle of elite reproduction where earlier movements failed?
Dr. DB Subedi: Thank you so much, I am very happy to be here talking to you about protests in Nepal. As you mentioned, Nepal has experienced different cycles of revolutions in the past. In particular, I would like to highlight two peaceful revolutions that at one point turned violent—those of 1990 and 2006. In between, Nepal also endured Maoist revolutions lasting 10 years, a very violent civil war. This current youth uprising, however, primarily led by Gen Z in Nepal, is driven by a number of structural and systemic issues. In fact, the protests, which began on 7th September, were directed against what protesters identified as corruption, elitism, and the lack of generational change in Nepal’s politics.
These are much larger structural and systemic issues, driven primarily by three interrelated factors. First, on the economic front: despite Nepal having undergone shifts in political systems in the past—most notably in 2015, when the country transformed from a constitutional monarchy to a federal republic (a decision made in 2008 but further institutionalized with the drafting of new constitution in 2015)—this was indeed a massive political shift. However, when it comes to economic change, Nepal still has a long way to go. Economic and developmental stagnation persists, and the institutions created and re-strengthened after the 2015 constitution have failed to provide meaningful incentives to the broader population, especially young people.
Rather, what we have seen over the past two decades is a deepening of socioeconomic inequalities in the country. These economic factors are further compounded by political and social ones. Politically, even though Nepal has gone through different cycles of democratization, most major parties lack intra-party democratization, as political leadership has not been passed on to younger generations. Thus, there is both a lack of internal party democracy and a lack of generational shift within political parties. At the same time, there are numerous examples of elite capture and domination of the economic and productive sectors, producing what we call cronyism. Nepal has recently experienced a particular form of cronyism that emerged through a nexus between economic elites and political elites.
And the third, social dimension is particularly important in relation to this recent youth revolution. Looking at demographic figures in Nepal over the past decades, we can observe a youth bulge pattern, meaning that a large proportion of the population consists of young people. This demographic trend creates vulnerable conditions for revolutions to emerge.
In a nutshell, the economic, social, and political factors came together and produced structural conditions and political opportunity structures on which this recent youth uprising and revolution have taken place in Nepal.
Gen Z Turns Precarity into Protest
A Nepali farmer at work in a rural field during the monsoon season. As the rains arrive, farmers across Nepal become busy in their fields, though most still rely on traditional farming techniques. Photo: Shishir Gautam.
Nepal’s youth today confront what might be called a triple disjuncture: mass migration, precarious labor markets, and the expansion of the digital public sphere. How do these dynamics intersect to produce a new political subjectivity that resists both elite capture and authoritarian closure?
Dr. DB Subedi: Mass migration and precarious labor markets are, in fact, deeply interconnected. While this is true in other contexts as well, in the case of Nepal the interconnections are much more significant. Moreover, these are not new issues. At one level, there is a trade-off between political elites and the people at large, especially young people, when it comes to migration, because political elites have viewed mass migration as a source of remittances—income sent home by those working overseas, particularly in labor migration. But from a political perspective, this has also functioned as a tactic of social control. When the young population is displaced from the country and moves abroad, only the elderly and very young remain in society. Such a society, from a political point of view, is easier to control, since politicians and elites at both national and local levels face far less political opposition, especially from young people. This trend has persisted for a long time and, as I mentioned earlier, has coincided with the rise of a crony-led economy that has grown exponentially in recent years.
For young people who have migrated and are working in extreme conditions in the Middle East and elsewhere, it is a sort of double-edged sword. On one hand, they see overseas employment and labor migration as a way to support and look after their families. But at the same time, there is also a sense of missing out on engaging in social and political activities locally. This was the situation for about 20–25 years. With the rise of social media and digital platforms in the age of the internet, however, we have also seen the emergence of transnational political activism. Now, even if young people have migrated and been away, they can engage in discussions about the politics of their homeland through social media. This kind of transnational political activism, facilitated by digital platforms, has also been a contributing factor in generating support for youth activism in Nepal.
You mentioned the precarious situations. In fact, among younger generations there is also the perception that a remittance-led economy is very inconsistent. It is not sustainable, as it largely depends on the economies of migrant-receiving countries. Recently, we have seen that young people are increasingly interested in exploring opportunities within the country rather than migrating overseas for short- or long-term employment. As a result, economic conditions in the country have been very precarious, with lands left uncultivated for a long time, especially in the hills and other areas. There are also villages where young people have been absent for years. This has affected the demographic configuration of the country as much as its economic configuration. Altogether, these factors contribute to a sense of vulnerability, and among young people, there is a growing urgency for social, political, and economic change. The September protest was an expression of that urgency for social change, which political parties and elites have so far failed to deliver.
A Tactical Blunder and an Authoritarian Reflex
Many Nepali citizens join Gen Z–led protests in Bhojpur, Nepal on September 9, 2025, showing solidarity with nationwide demonstrations. Photo: Dipesh Rai.
The ban on social media is often cited as the immediate spark of revolt. Should this be understood as a mere tactical blunder by Oli’s government, or as symptomatic of a deeper authoritarian reflex embedded within Nepal’s ruling elite?
DB Subedi: That’s a very good question, and I think it is indeed both. On the one hand, it was what I would call a tactical blunder of the Oli government, because the ban on 26 social media platforms was based on a miscalculation of the possible social and political consequences it could produce. The reason it was a miscalculation is that we have now seen how it actually drove people to take to the streets—not only in Kathmandu but across the country. It was a tactical blunder because it failed to anticipate the reactions, especially from younger generations, Gen Z and others, who are digital nomads and live in the digital space. For them, the digital space is everyday life, not just a platform for networking and entertainment, but increasingly also a space for political competition and contestation. The government failed to predict the potential political and social backlash and consequences of this. Or at least, they were probably not ignorant of it but simply undermined the consequences.
At the same time, this also reflects a symptom of the increasingly authoritarian style of politics of the Oli government. One example I would cite is that when social media was banned on 4th September, news still circulated on the platforms that remained operational at the time—I think this included Viber and a few others—where the frustrations of young people were voiced. Through those platforms, there was a call for a nationwide protest against the government’s decision.
Rather than engaging with the people—especially the younger generation—and explaining to the population at large why the ban would be necessary, for example, as the government claimed, to maintain social cohesion and avert social fragmentation caused by misinformation and disinformation circulating on social media, the Oli government failed to make its case. That could have been a well-intentioned policy, and there may have been good intent behind it. However, the government not only failed to explain this to the people, but at the same time, ex-Prime Minister Oli was seen publicly criticizing and undermining young people’s frustration. This was symbolic and spoke directly to his authoritarian stance on the use of social media. For young people, it was not simply a matter of compliance; they saw it as an attack on their freedom of speech. In my view, then, the decision to ban social media was partly a tactical blunder and partly a symbolic expression of the increasingly authoritarian politics of the ruling elites at that time.
Nepo-Babies as a Symptom of Neo-Elitism
Viral outrage against “nepo-babies” seems to reflect a moral economy of resentment against elite entitlement. To what extent did the digital spectacle of political heirs flaunting luxury lifestyles crystallize diffuse frustrations into a new form of class politics—distinct from the agrarian and proletarian struggles of earlier eras?
Dr. DB Subedi: The outrage against nepo-babies, which we have seen on social media for some time in Nepal, is not unique to Nepal. In Asia, we have also seen similar kinds of outrage against nepo-babies in Indonesia and elsewhere; the Philippines is another example. But in the case of Nepal, this is actually a symptom of a deep cultural conflict within Nepal’s politics. It also points to the inequalities and disparities that have grown between political elites and ordinary people in the past decades.
Of course, nepo-babies are also a symbol of neo-elitism and a growing political culture that endorses elite entitlement and elite resource capture in a resource-poor country like Nepal. In other words, the outrage against nepo-babies—or the framing of nepo-babies as a particular type of social class on social media—is a symptom of growing socioeconomic inequalities and political divides in the country. This has also supported a different kind of elitist political culture, one that people did not expect after the massive political change in 2015.
To put that into context, when the Maoists called for a revolution—armed revolution—in 1996, during the 10 years of insurgency, 17,000 people died. Many hundreds, even thousands, are still missing. And there are thousands upon thousands of families that have been disintegrated or displaced because of the insurgency.
There are also ex-combatants who actively fought in the war—from the Maoist side as well as from the government side—who are now living with disability and carry deep emotional and psychological distress inherited from the war. The memory of those precarious, insecure times has not faded away. For Nepalese society, this is not a very distant event in history. People remain very much aware of what was sacrificed—not just by those who fought in the war, but also by ordinary people during the Maoist insurgency.
Then there was a political shift in 2008 and 2015, but now you can contrast these situations with the children of political elites—politicians who are living a luxurious life and, most importantly, flaunting that life and their privileges on social media. That kind of contrasting scenario is obviously going to be outrageous for people who feel they lost a decade of their lives because of the insurgencies, and who see few opportunities available for the masses.
So, what we have seen in the recent revolutions is the clash of those two types of political cultures, and the very contrasting lives people are living. That is why young people have shown their frustrations against nepo-babies. But again, nepo-babies are a product of bad political culture, rising neo-elitism, and institutional failure to bring about equitable socioeconomic change and transformation in the country.
Different Triggers, Shared Inequalities
Nepal is the third South Asian country in four years to witness mass youth-led uprisings, after Sri Lanka in 2022 and Bangladesh in 2024. What do you see as the common drivers across these cases, and what is unique to Nepal’s trajectory?
Dr. DB Subedi: Actually, there are several common drivers. One of the main ones is that in all three revolutions, there was overwhelming involvement and participation of young people, especially in Bangladesh and Nepal. We have seen Gen Z play a leading role in these kinds of protest movements. In Sri Lanka, in the Aragalaya, it was a bit different because people from three different ethnic groups—Tamils, Sinhalese, and Muslims—came together. This movement was also mostly led by young people, but people from other generations were involved as well in the revolution that toppled the government of Rajapaksa.
Of course, there are contextual differences too—differences in terms of politics, history, and so on. But there are also common structural issues behind the rise of these movements in all three countries. At the center of that structural inequality, that structural issue, is the perception of injustice. In Sri Lanka, the Aragalaya movement was mostly fueled by the government’s failure—economic collapse and the government’s failure to manage the economy when the country transitioned from decades of civil war to peace and stability.
In Bangladesh, this was directed towards a bad government policy by Sheikh Hasina’s government regarding quotas in government jobs and opportunities for young people. So, it was actually aimed at a particular kind of policy. In Nepal, by contrast, it was triggered by another policy decision—the ban on social media.
Regardless of these three different trigger factors, what we have seen is growing socioeconomic inequality, lack of generational change in politics, the perceptions of young people, and the reality of their sense of socioeconomic exclusion, relative deprivation, and frustration toward increasingly elitist types of politics. These are the common issues we can observe in all three countries. And when these issues converge in motivating young people to take to the streets, social media plays an important role as a facilitator of this kind of collective movement.
The Key Is a Proper Handover of Power
Thousands joined a joint morning procession organized by the CPN-UML and Nepali Congress district committees in Inaruwa Bazaar on September 19, 2025, to mark Constitution Day. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula.
In Sri Lanka, the Aragalaya protest movement toppled the Rajapaksas but was quickly reabsorbed into elite politics. What lessons should Nepali youth learn from the Sri Lankan experience to avoid repeating this cycle of betrayal?
Dr. DB Subedi: Sri Lanka’s case is probably somewhat different from that of Nepal, particularly when it comes to the transfer of political authority at the end of the revolutions. There is now a new government that came to power after the elections—a progressive government, distinct from the previous populist nationalist government of Rajapaksa. What we have seen in Sri Lanka is a very quick and relatively smooth transfer of power from the previous regime to the new progressive government, which, as the recent elections show, has received an overwhelming mandate from the Sri Lankan people. The transition was, of course, fragile, but the Sri Lankans managed it very well in terms of shifting power from the previous regime to the new one.
In the case of Nepal, we now have a civil society government, a pattern more or less similar to what we saw in Bangladesh after the 2024 revolution. This civilian government has been given a mandate to hold elections within six months, and it is headed by the former Chief Justice of the country, Sushila Karki. Nepal can actually learn a few things here from Sri Lanka. One is that it will always be in the best interest of the people and the political system to manage these transitions and make them as short as possible, because a proper handover of power from previous governments to the next elected government is the key.
In the meantime, there are also additional challenges for the Nepalese government—the civilian government in power at the moment. Nepal also faces the challenge of holding those from previous governments accountable for the loss of life during the protest movement. Proper investigations into the abuse of power and coercion by the previous regimes are difficult issues, but they need to be addressed. At the same time, there is widespread public frustration and anger about corruption cases. There are dozens of cases dating back as early as the 1990s that have not been properly investigated, and political power has been used, misused, and abused to avoid scrutiny.
So, while the civilian government in power at the moment has many challenges, the main lesson it could learn from Sri Lanka in particular is the importance of ensuring that processes, mechanisms, and systems are in place to transfer power from previous authorities to newly elected authorities.
The Risks of Religious Populism
In Bangladesh, the fall of Sheikh Hasina has opened space for religious extremism and new forms of repression. How should we understand the dangers of authoritarian populists exploiting anti-corruption or anti-elitist discourses in fragile democracies?
Dr. DB Subedi: That’s a very good question, and Nepal also has—I wouldn’t say a strong possibility, but there may be—some scenarios where certain political forces, either existing or emerging, might use populist rhetoric to exploit the fluid situation in the transitional period. In other words, there may be risks of populist, nationalist kinds of political narratives being circulated as mainstream narratives in the meantime and taking over in the post-revolution political system. The risks are always there. In Bangladesh, we have seen religious extremist narratives circulating in the political domain and influencing politics, and this is typical of Bangladesh because of its sociocultural and socio-religious configurations.
In the case of Nepal, there are two potential scenarios where populist forces seeking to exploit the situation could emerge. In my view, one is that there is probably a lesser risk of right-wing populist politics exploiting culture or ethnicity to advance populist agendas in Nepal. Because Nepal is ethnically diverse, if any populist forces emerge at this stage, one possibility is that they might actually mobilize people across ethnic divides. In that sense, it might look less like the right-wing populism we have seen elsewhere.
But at the same time, the bigger risk is that Nepal was the only Hindu state in the world until 2015. When the new constitution was passed in 2015, it became a secular country. And even though it is now formally secular, it is weakly so, because in practice, in everyday life, religion is still present in the public domain. It has not been retracted into the private sphere. As a result, there are certain political parties and interest groups that want to reinstate the Hindu state in Nepal. That is another risk, where there may be potential for populist politics to emerge in this transition, mobilizing and exploiting religious factors, narratives, and ideologies. If that happens, that sort of populist politics might be more dangerous, because it could share certain elements of right-wing populism we have seen elsewhere, since it would be a form of religious populism in Nepal.
So, yes, like Sri Lanka, Nepal also faces risks. But at the same time, it also has an opportunity, because elections have been called in six months’ time, and if elections take place and there is a smooth transition of power, then Nepali society might be able to navigate these challenges in the days to come.
Unprecedented Support, Uncertain Future
The municipality office in Inaruwa, Sunsari, lies heavily damaged after protesters targeted it during the nationwide demonstrations against corruption and the social media shutdown on September 9, 2025. Photo: Nabin Gadtaula
And finally, Professor Subedi, do you see in Nepal’s Gen Z uprising the embryonic forms of a post-elitist democracy—an order rooted not in patronage or coercion but in participatory, inclusive politics? Or does the violence of the movement suggest that the path forward remains perilously uncertain?
Dr. DB Subedi: At the moment, I would like to be optimistic about your question, and I would say there are signs of a post-elitist kind of politics beginning to emerge in this case. But again, a lot depends on what kind of political institutions will consolidate in the days to come. Looking at the past, one of the major challenges in Nepal is that even though there were political changes—political shifts in 2015, 2008, and even earlier—the change in institutional setup did not result in meaningful socioeconomic transformation. One reason it didn’t happen is because institutions changed, but the institutional culture inherited from the past essentially remained the same. As a result, corruption continued, exclusion continued, and people’s frustrations with the system and political elites deepened.
In these situations, how the voices of younger generations can be institutionalized and established in mainstream politics in the days to come will determine a lot. Still, I would view this change more optimistically than pessimistically, because despite some losses—there was destruction and violence when the protests intensified on the second day—there is nonetheless a sense of awareness among the public that change was inevitable, change was necessary, and that we have come to a time when much more meaningful change is required, both in terms of political institutions, systems of governance, and political participation. But changing political culture is also necessary.
And I think if more and more young people are able to participate in politics, they might be able to foster a political culture that is much more participatory and inclusive, and can establish not only economic systems but also political systems that are fair, inclusive, and capable of bringing about the change desired by those who sacrificed their lives, as well as those who participated in these protest movements. A lot depends on how the state and society will navigate this challenge and crisis, because sometimes past history also gives us a clue to predict the future. Unfortunately, the past record of how Nepalese society has navigated post-revolutionary political space is not very encouraging.
But this time, because the revolution was led particularly by young people outside of the political parties’ participation—it was not hierarchical, as would have been the case if it were led by political parties—at the same time, even though it was a leaderless movement, it very quickly sought some results, some consequences. So, the kind of public support this protest movement has received is unprecedented. In that sense, there is huge public support, and in fact, that kind of public support is also a good indicator of the legitimacy of the current government, and also the government that will take over when it is handed over to an elected government. That kind of legitimacy is good for any government and any political leaders who come to power with the intention of bringing about meaningful social, economic, and political change. And that is what we can hope for at this stage. But a lot depends on how this will be managed, and how society will navigate through it.
Professor Norman Finkelstein—NYC-born to Holocaust-survivor parents and, in 2020, ranked the world’s fifth most influential political scientist—tells ECPS that “Israel will mass Gazans at the border, bomb relentlessly, and force Egypt’s hand.” Professor Finkelstein forecasts pressure on Cairo amid “images broadcast worldwide,” frames today’s war as a qualitative break aimed at depopulation (“stay and starve or leave”) and argues that “an imposed famine…constitutes clear proof of genocide.” He argues that, while procedural workarounds to a US veto exist at the UN, they are politically improbable in practice; hence he looks to EU trade leverage instead—though that, too, is stalled by a ‘lack of political will.’ Downplaying doctrinal debates over Zionism, he casts Israel as a ‘Jewish supremacist state’ analogous to apartheid-era South Africa, and notes collapsing Democratic support alongside generational GOP splits.”
Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Norman Finkelstein—born in New York City to Jewish Holocaust-survivor parents and, in 2020, named the fifth most influential political scientist in the world—states the core claim that frames this conversation: “Israel will mass Gazans at the border, bomb relentlessly, [and] force Egypt’s hand.”
The interview that follows situates Professor Finkelstein’s analysis within a stark forecast of prospective mass displacement. While he cautions that “I don’t think it’s easy to predict where this will lead,” he argues that Israel is “trying to amass the entire population of Gaza on the southern border,” after which “they will… begin bombing it relentlessly.” The intended effect, he suggests, is to compel Cairo under unbearable humanitarian pressure—“images broadcast worldwide… with desperate civilians screaming to be allowed into Egypt”—to open its frontier. Whether Egypt can resist that pressure, he adds, “I’m not sure.”
Professor Finkelstein frames the contemporary campaign as a qualitative break from earlier cycles of “mowings of the lawn.” The methods are not new, he says, but their magnitude is: destruction that once shocked humanitarian observers now approaches comprehensive urban pulverization. As to intent, he maintains that the objective is depopulation: “the people of Gaza will be given two choices—stay and starve or leave.” In his view, exterminatory violence functions as instrument as well as outcome—driven by “pure bloodlust,” by a desire to re-establish deterrence (“if the thought crosses your mind that there is a military option against us, just look at Gaza”), and by the aim to break both Gazan and international will.
On proof, Professor Finkelstein argues the evidentiary bar has already been met through rigorous humanitarian monitoring and legal dossiers. He points to a “voluminous documentary record,” including a South African memorial at the ICJ, and insists that “we’ve already reached the highest threshold of accuracy in documentation when it comes to Gaza.” For him, the decisive element is engineered deprivation: “an imposed famine—a human-made famine—constitutes clear proof of genocide.”
Institutionally, he sees impunity less in legal design than in political inertia. While acknowledging UN tools that can bypass a US Security Council veto, he judges them unlikely to be activated and locates leverage instead in Europe’s trade ties—frustrated, he says, by a “lack of political will.” In the domestic US arena, he notes collapsing Democratic grassroots support for Israel and a sharp generational split among Republicans, concluding that “it’s very difficult right now to defend Israel.”
Analytically, Professor Finkelstein downplays doctrinal debates about Zionism, preferring a structural diagnosis: Israel as a “Jewish supremacist state” enforcing regional dominance through periodic “mass death and destruction,” a pattern he analogizes to apartheid-era South Africa. Read against that backdrop, the title’s forecast is not a provocation but, in his account, a logical extension of means toward an end.
Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Norman Finkelstein, edited lightly for readability.
Quantity Has Turned into Quality: Gaza’s Destruction Is Now a Different Phenomenon
Destruction in Shejayia, Gaza City, Gaza Strip. Photo: Dreamstime.
Professor Finkelstein, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Drawing on “Gaza: An Inquest into Its Martyrdom,” how do you conceptualize Gaza today—blockade, occupation, siege, apartheid, genocide—and how do you explain Israel’s persistent impunity despite extensive documentation of International Humanitarian Law and International Human Rights Law (IHL/IHRL) violations?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: There’s an expression in English: there’s nothing new under the sun. For those who have studied the history of Gaza, in particular since 1967, it can’t be said that Israel has pioneered new methods since October 7th, 2023. What has changed—and changed very significantly—is the magnitude of the Israeli repression in Gaza. There is also another expression: at some point, quantity turns into quality. That is to say, if the magnitude of the Israeli death and destruction in Gaza has significantly increased, then qualitatively we’re talking about something new. So, even though the methods are not new, the quantity is of such an altogether different magnitude; then we’re talking about a qualitatively different phenomenon.
What does that mean in practice? Let’s take one simple comparison. During the last of Israel’s massive killing sprees in Gaza, Operation Protective Edge—that was in July–August 2014—it lasted approximately about 51 days. During Operation Protective Edge, about 18,000 homes were destroyed, and about 550 children were killed. The head of the International Committee of the Red Cross, Peter Moorer, when he toured Gaza after Operation Protective Edge, said that in his entire career he had not ever seen such a magnitude of destruction. Well, compare that with today. Then it was 18,000 homes; now the estimates are 200,000 homes destroyed. And the estimate is about 92 or more percent of all the housing in Gaza has been pulverized. Then it was 550 children; now the estimates are 20,000-plus children have been killed. So, it’s quantitatively at an altogether different magnitude, and so it’s qualitatively a different phenomenon. Now, what does that mean practically?
Practically, that means that Israel, in the past, has carried out what it calls “mowings of the lawn” in Gaza. That is to say, these are high-tech killing sprees, basically to remind the people in Gaza who is in charge. In this case, Israel. But after October 7th, the Israelis realized that they had not just a crisis, but they had an opportunity. The opportunity flowed from the crisis. The opportunity was to resolve the Gaza question once and for all. In effect, that meant implementing the final solution to the Gaza question. And the final solution to the Gaza question basically meant, one way or another, to empty out Gaza. It could be ethnic cleansing. It could be making Gaza uninhabitable, so the people of Gaza, by hook or by crook, would figure out a way to leave. Or it could also mean mass extermination.
The Israeli policy over the past two years has been a combination of those 3 things. Ethnic cleansing—that was the goal at the very beginning, to empty out the population into the northern Sinai. That didn’t work for various reasons. Then, the massive destruction of Gaza, to make it uninhabitable. What they’re doing right now in the last habitable spot of Gaza, which is Gaza City. They will reduce it to what they have reduced the north of Gaza and Rafah to; now they will do it in Gaza City, and there will be nothing left. It will just be a wasteland of rubble. In order to break the backs of the people of Gaza, in order to soften the target so that they will leave once and for all, they’re engaging in a policy of mass famine and mass extermination.
The second part of your question was: why have they been able to get away with it with impunity, despite the massive documentation? Well, during all of Israel’s previous operations, there was massive documentation. After Operation Cast Lead in 2008–9, there was the voluminous Goldstone Report, which was authored by a South African Jew who also called himself a Zionist, and it was a devastating report on what Israel had done to Gaza—just collected dust. That report was commissioned by the Human Rights Council. There was another report after Operation Protective Edge, commissioned by the Human Rights Council. It was also devastating. It also just ended up collecting dust. So, however much documentation is accumulated, turning these commissions of inquiry, or human rights documentation, into an actual implementation of a law is, as is pretty obvious at this point, not easy.
Engineered Famine Is Proof of Genocide
Besieged Gaza’s decades-long socio-economic collapse has tipped into famine—under what critics call genocidal Israeli policies. Photo: Mohamed Zarandah.
On the genocide claim, which probative elements (specific intent, patterns of destructive acts, official statements, engineered humanitarian deprivation) do you judge strongest or weakest, and how should advocates avoid both over- and under-pleading?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: That’s a very good question. In my view, the goal is to empty out Gaza. That, to me, is the central objective. They don’t care much where the people of Gaza end up—Tahiti, Samoa, the Solomon Islands, Nauru, Tuvalu—it makes no difference, as long as the “Gaza question” is resolved. You should bear in mind that this was also Hitler’s view. Until the late 1930s, and perhaps even into the early 1940s, the plan was to transfer Europe’s Jews out of Europe, and there were all sorts of schemes underway in different parts of the world to relocate them. That goal, however, became unviable after World War II broke out, when the seas were no longer open for free travel. It was then that they shifted to the extermination plan.
Similarly, I believe Israel’s aim is to depopulate Gaza, and one way to achieve that is by making it unlivable. As Israeli officials have repeatedly stated: the people of Gaza will be given two choices—stay and starve or leave.
Secondly, the mass extermination is a component of the plan, because there are three aspects to the mass extermination. Aspect number one is pure bloodlust. The Israelis were outraged—and that’s really a euphemism. They were enraged by what happened on October 7th and were determined to exact blood: an eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth. Except, in the case of the Israelis, judging by what was recently said by a former senior Israeli official—I believe it was the former head of Israeli intelligence—the ratio was set far higher: for every Israeli killed, fifty Gazans must be killed. So, there was the bloodlust component. That, in significant part, explains not just the scale of the killing in Gaza but also the jubilation with which it is carried out, the fact that they broadcast it all over their social media, showing how they are wreaking death and destruction on Gaza. So, the extermination, in part, springs from bloodlust.
A second aspect of the extermination is what Israel calls restoring its deterrence capability after October 7th. The idea began circulating in parts of the Arab world: maybe there is a military option against Israel. If a ragtag guerrilla force assembled by Hamas could inflict so much damage, perhaps others could as well. Israel, therefore, felt compelled to send a message: if the thought crosses your mind that there is a military option against us, just look at Gaza. In this sense, the mass extermination was also intended to restore what Israel calls its deterrence capability—that is, the Arab world’s fear of Israel. That’s what they mean by deterrence capability.
The third aspect of the mass extermination is to break the will of the people of Gaza—and also that of the international community. While the international community speaks of ceasefires and rehabilitation, the goal of the mass extermination is to send a clear message: there will be no ceasefire, and there will be no rehabilitation. The people of Gaza must leave, and one way to convince them of that is to kill them en masse and deprive them of the basic necessities required to sustain life.
There is nothing left in Gaza now. I don’t know where people get these ideas about reconstruction. If you look at the official reports, they estimate it would take 50 years to rebuild Gaza. The place has been pulverized; there’s nothing left—it’s a vast wasteland.
So, I believe the extermination has been a means to the end of resolving the Gaza question. But even if it is a means to an end, it is still genocide. Using genocidal methods to achieve the goal of “resolving” the Gaza question does not make it any less so. The fact that extermination serves as a means, rather than an end in itself, does not negate its genocidal nature. They are employing genocidal means to achieve their objective.
The Record Is Voluminous; The Crime Is Clear
What standards of sourcing, chain-of-custody, and methodological transparency should scholars/NGOs adopt to pre-empt “disinformation” rebuttals while remaining legible to courts and broader publics?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: I don’t think, unlike others who seem to believe, that the key to gaining authoritative information about Gaza is admitting journalists. First of all, we have met much higher standards of proof than journalistic evidence. From the superfluity of human rights and humanitarian UN-affiliated organizations, they have been transmitting information on, literally, a daily basis, to prove that Gaza has crossed the threshold of famine.
There is this very subtle system of accounting by international humanitarian groups. There’s food deprivation, there’s starvation, and there’s famine — these are different degrees. In order to discern at which threshold you stand, it requires very precise information. When they came to the conclusion that about a million people in Gaza are now in famine conditions, they needed very precise accounting, because these are very rigorous, stringent organizations. They need very precise accounting to validate the claim of famine, or starvation, or extreme food deprivation.
There are so many organizations working in Gaza — Save the Children, the World Food Programme, UNICEF, UNESCO, Doctors Without Borders, UNCDA, the UN Commission on Trade and Development, the World Bank, the International Monetary Fund — all of them are on the ground. We have a voluminous documentary record.
Just to give you one example: the South African delegation to the International Court of Justice (ICJ) submitted what’s called a memorial, which is its main documentation of the genocide in Gaza. It hasn’t yet been released to the public, but you know how long it is? It’s 700 pages with 4,000 pages of documentation. There’s no dearth of documentation. Frankly, as against the organizations I’ve listed, journalistic reportage is the least reliable. These are just people who fly in and fly out. They have very little knowledge of the situation in Gaza. The journalists are highly partisan. They basically have to report what their editors want them to report when it comes to Israel and Palestine.
So, in my opinion, we’ve already reached the highest threshold of accuracy in documentation when it comes to Gaza. We don’t need any more. As you know, all the major human rights organizations have reached the same conclusion: Amnesty International has concluded that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza; Human Rights Watch has concluded that Israel is committing genocidal acts in Gaza; and the Israeli Information Center for Human Rights in the Occupied Territories, B’Tselem, has likewise concluded that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.
The overwhelming majority of recognized experts on genocide agree as well. In a recent poll of an organization with about 500 scholars specializing in genocide studies, 28% responded, and of those, 86% stated that Israel is committing genocide in Gaza.
So, I don’t think the problem at this point is documentation. I believe that an imposed famine — a human-made famine — constitutes clear proof of genocide.
Mass at Rafah, Bomb Relentlessly, Force Egypt’s Hand
How do you assess the likelihood, modalities, and timelines of large-scale displacement from Gaza to Egypt (or beyond)? Which regional veto players (Egypt, Hezbollah, Gulf states) most credibly deter or enable such outcomes, and why?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: I don’t think it’s easy to predict where this will lead. Israel is trying to amass the entire population of Gaza on the southern border. At some point, President Trump has given them the green light, but he’s also signaled that they need to get this job done quickly, as pressure on the US is steadily increasing. My guess—and I must emphasize that I have no military knowledge whatsoever—is that they will gather as many people as possible at the southern border and then begin bombing it relentlessly.
The resulting pressure will inevitably fall on Egypt: you have to let them in. Because nobody is stopping Israel. How Egypt will respond to that remains an open question. There will be images broadcast worldwide of Israel relentlessly bombing two million people, with desperate civilians screaming to be allowed into Egypt. Whether Egypt will be able to resist that pressure, I’m not sure.
Not Law but Will Is the Chokepoint
United Nations Headquarters in New York, USA. Photo: Diego Grandi.
Which institutional pathways—US Security Council shielding, lawfare, diplomatic narrative management—most decisively sustain Israeli impunity, and where are the most realistic chokepoints for pressure?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: The US has been an obstacle, but it’s not entirely accurate to call it an insurmountable one. There are various UN mechanisms for bypassing the US veto in the Security Council, including what’s known as the “United for Peace” option in the General Assembly. I won’t go into the technical details, as they’re not particularly relevant, since it’s unlikely to happen.
Secondly, the Europeans can exert significant influence. Europe—not the US—is Israel’s main trading partner, through the EU. They have many potential avenues of leverage. The issue, however, is not institutional or bureaucratic obstructionism. The real problem is a lack of political will.
What could be done now? I don’t believe much can be done. I don’t like to be the bearer of bad news. On the other hand, I believe in treating adults like adults: if we’re at an impasse, we’re at an impasse. If people were willing to escalate their resistance, then I do believe there are options.
For example, there are possibilities to shut down the Israeli terminals at major airports if you can amass enough people willing to go there and be arrested. I think many people would be willing to get arrested. The problem, however, is organizational—I don’t want to use big words, but it really comes down to organizational vision.
There are potential avenues. For instance, there was an announcement by the dock workers in Genoa—they’re sending over a flotilla to Gaza. If the Israelis attack that flotilla, there will be a price to pay in terms of commerce on the seas. Whether that’s just talk or whether there’s an action plan behind it, I don’t know.
There are things that can be done, but they require both will and organization.
Corruption and Coercion Shape the Annex
The entrance sign of the International Criminal Court (ICC) at its headquarters in The Hague, Netherlands, on February 14, 2018. Photo: Robert Paul Van Beets.
You’ve criticized UN handling of conflict-related sexual violence. What does the Annex controversy (Israel/Hamas) reveal about the political economy of UN norm-setting, evidentiary thresholds, and great-power leverage?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: The UN, as anybody who works in it will tell you, is a profoundly corrupt organization. On the other hand, it does a lot of good things, and you have to balance both those factors. I think there’s a lot of corruption in the UN and affiliated bodies like the ICC.
I’ve just completed a new book called Gaza’s Gravediggers: An Inquiry into Corruption in High Places, which speaks to specific individuals and specific events where, in my opinion, individuals are either being bribed or blackmailed by Israel.
I mentioned earlier in this conversation the Goldstone Report. The Goldstone Report was a devastating indictment of Israel’s conduct during Operation Cast Lead. Within a few months of its issuance, Goldstone retracted the report, and in my opinion, he retracted it because he was blackmailed. If you read the record, as I have, there’s no other explanation.
The former chief prosecutor of the International Criminal Court, Fatou Bensouda, was responsible for handling the case of the Mavi Marmara, a flotilla of ships that went to Gaza on May 31, 2010, which came under attack by Israel, resulting in 10 passengers killed. There is no question in my mind that she was blackmailed into giving Israel a pass.
The former president of the ICJ, Joan Donoghue, was an American. As you know, in January 2024, the ICJ, the main legal arm of the United Nations, found that Israel was plausibly committing genocide. In April 2024, Joan Donoghue appeared on a BBC program called HardTalk and blatantly lied, claiming that the ICJ did not find Israel was plausibly committing genocide. It was the most flagrant, outrageous lie.
The current vice president of the ICJ, Judge Julia Sebutinde, is clearly a fanatic—I believe she’s a Christian evangelical fanatic—but beyond that, it’s my opinion that she is either being bribed or blackmailed by Israel and has been delivering outrageous dissents in ICJ jurisprudence. In my forthcoming book, I have a 100-page chapter documenting her lies and dissents.
And then there’s the most recent case. Without going into detail, which can’t be done over a broadcast, there is no evidence—in the traditional sense of evidence: medical, forensic, or digital—that Hamas weaponized rape on October 7th. There is none. They admit it. There isn’t an issue there. There is no digital evidence of rape. There is no medical-legal evidence of rape. The only thing there is consists of so-called “witnesses.” That’s it.
Whereas on the other side, there is voluminous evidence that Israel is committing rape, threatening rape of men, threatening rape of women, and engaging in massive sexual violence.
In the face of that, every year the UN puts out a report on sexual violence in conflict situations called Conflict-Related Sexual Violence (CRSV). There was a lot of pressure put on Guterres, the Secretary-General, to list Hamas in the appendix to the report as a perpetrator of sexual violence and to exclude Israel. That’s what Guterres did: he listed Hamas and excluded Israel. That was another blackmail.
Israel Acts As a Jewish Supremacist State, Not a Zionist One
Billboard reading “The Looting Government,” part of a protest campaign against the conservative coalition’s policies in Ra’anana, Israel, May 2023. Photo: Rene Van Den Berg
Does contemporary Zionism now shape Israeli military doctrine in Gaza toward openly eliminationist aims, marking a shift from settler-colonial control to population destruction, ethnic cleansing, or permanent incapacitation?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: I don’t think that’s true. I don’t believe it has much to do with Zionism. I wrote my doctoral dissertation on Zionism, so I can claim a certain amount of expertise on the subject. This has little to do with Zionism. Israel is a Jewish supremacist state, and it is acting in a way not unlike apartheid-era South Africa.
Remember, South Africa, beyond its system of white supremacy, was engaged in a series of neighboring colonial wars with Mozambique and Angola. The South Africans killed around a million people during the 1970s and 1980s in the course of the anti-colonial wars along South Africa’s borders and, of course, in Namibia as well. They waged a colonial war against SWAPO, the Southwest African People’s Organization, and it resulted in a massive bloodletting. Literally, I believe it was more than a million people. You can check and correct me if I’m wrong.
That’s Israel. Israel is a Jewish supremacist state determined to maintain a Jewish supremacist state within its borders and to crush any resistance on its periphery. It’s similar to what South Africa did. But in South Africa, there was Mozambique, where FRELIMO, led by Samora Machel, was in power. Machel was probably assassinated by the South Africans; it’s not known for sure, but he was killed in a plane crash. Then there was FRELIMO in Mozambique and, in Angola, the MPLA—the Popular Movement for the Liberation of Angola.
In the same way that South Africa fought to preserve its regional dominance, Israel faces Hezbollah, Iran, and Syria on its periphery and has periodically carried out mass death and destruction to maintain its regional hegemony. Like South Africa, Israel has committed similar kinds of massacres to uphold what I would describe as a system of Jewish supremacy and regional dominance.
This has something to do with Zionism, but not as much as some might think. Zionism’s goal was to create a Jewish state, just as South Africa’s white nationalists sought to create a white state. However, invoking ideologies like Zionism can confuse the reality of the current situation, especially for people who haven’t, like myself, spent several years studying every detail of Zionism to write a dissertation.
If you frame it more plainly—as a Jewish supremacist state determined to maintain a population that is more or less purely Jewish while preserving its hegemony and dominance in the region, much like apartheid-era South Africa—the picture becomes much clearer.
Democrats Support Israel in Single Digits; GOP Split by Age
And lastly, Professor Finkelstein, how do right-wing and liberal US populisms intersect to normalize Gaza’s suffering—e.g., via identity-based mobilization, security mythologies, and the bipartisan “fortress democracy” frame?
Professor Norman Finkelstein: The Democratic Party, at its base, is composed of people belonging to minorities and those who are generally liberal in their persuasions. These two constituencies are not going to support a genocide in Gaza. Right now, support for Israel within the Democratic Party may already be in the single digits—I believe it’s around 9%—and it has dropped drastically.
In the Republican Party, support for Israel has also declined significantly among younger Republicans, but among older Republicans, particularly supporters of Trump, it remains considerably high.
I think it’s very difficult right now to defend Israel. To do so, you’d have to come across as either a psychopath or a moron; otherwise, it’s impossible to defend.
While the global community often articulates refugee detention as a banner of humanitarian concern, escalating evidence from Libya and North African regions reveals a deeper systemic failure where stateless refugees and other displaced persons are being subjected to medical procedures and organ removal through coercion masked as border security and health screening. Across these detention zones, a shadow economy thrives thereby transforming stateless refugees into targets of extrajudicial biomedical intervention. This article uncovers the alarming rise of coerced organ extraction and exploitative medical practices presented as humanitarian care, introducing the concept biomedical sovereignty to expose the violent necropolitics at play. To build upon forensic data, survivor testimonies, and policy analysis, the following article calls for an urgent re-evaluation of international ethical obligations toward radically marginalized populations.
By Umavi Pagoda*
A 19-year-old Eritrean refugee is relocated from a detention center near Tripoli for what officials call a routine medical check-up. His departure marked the start of an absence that would never find closure as he became another unreturned face in a system that forgets too quickly. The following day, his belongings are returned to the dormitory with no explanation. His name is erased from records. His body is never found.
This incident is a fragment of a broader systematic pattern, one propagated across detention zones with troubling consistency in North Africa, where refugees are processed not only as asylum-seekers but as medical targets. While corridors of power continue to argue over the ethics and logistics of migration quotas and border security, a quieter atrocity is unfolding where the systematic medical exploitation of stateless persons, often unfolding into coerced organ removal. Within the ward where law disguises violence as care, silence kills quieter than bullets, outruns justice, and erases crimes before they are named. In extraction zones, silence enforced policy by design, not by accident.
Militias, Traffickers, and Medical Collusion
Since the fall of Muammar Gaddafi in 2011, Libya represents a textbook case of post-revolutionary power vacuum, dominated by militia entrenchment, coercion by proxy, and smuggling networks. Moreover, in the absence of central governance, detention centers have evolved into profit-generating hubs for human trafficking, including a disturbing development: organ trade.
Migrants and the displaced from sub-Saharan Africa, Syria, Bangladesh, and the Horn of Africa are frequently subjected to captivity under force along main transit routes through Agadez in Niger and eastern Sudan, with Libya positioned as Europe’s de facto checkpoint. In addition, these detention centers are often routinely run by militias and other non-state actors in alliance with traffickers and smugglers, under credible allegations of organ-trafficking risks and unease over possible complicity of medical personnel. Without independent oversight or any mechanism for accountability, these facilities—designed for secrecy—function as black boxes
From Rumor to Routine: Coerced Organ Removal Across Migration Routes
What was once a rumor is now routinized —measured in spreadsheets, hidden in budgets, and carved into bodies. In recent years, humanitarian workers and forensic specialists have uncovered disturbing patterns of disappearances and allegations of coerced medical procedures—making clear that the undocumented body, once erased by the state, is reintroduced into systems of value as currency, commodity, and collateral. Illicit transplant surgeries have been documented in multiple countries through police operations and court cases, even asUNODC’s Assessment Toolkit (2015) characterizes trafficking for organ removal as a hidden, under-reported crime whose true scale remains unknown.
From capitals to courtroom, global monitors have begun documenting the horror. The July 2024 IMO-UNHCR Mixed Migration Centre Report interviewed migrants, revealing patterns of detainees taken for blood testing and disappearing shortly afterward. Survivors report post-procedural states marked by disorientation, physical pain, and memory loss—reflecting a troubling loss of bodily agency under conditions where medical procedures are imposed rather than chosen.
In July 2023, the Office of the United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights (OHCHR) warned of deepening shadows over Libya, where layers of entrenched crimes have become almost invisible to international oversight: human trafficking, arbitrary detention, enforced disappearances, and the systematic torture of migrants and refugees—many lacking recognized nationality and thus classified as stateless under international law (OHCHR, 2023).
Statelessness strips individuals of legal protection, leaving them defenseless against exploitation, including illicit organ removal. This risk is echoed in multiple reports, including a study led by the United Nations Human Rights Council (UNHRC), the International Organization for Migration (IOM), and the Mixed Migration Center (July 2024), which documents the experiences of refugees and migrants—many likely stateless—describing non-consensual organ removal along migration routes to the Mediterranean (Reuters, 2024). Witness journalism documents the experiences of 43 individuals from Sudan, South Sudan, and Eritrea—many of whom are absent from any civil registry—who sold a kidney under coercion, underscoring how displacement and the absence of state protection leave individuals acutely vulnerable to the most extreme forms of trafficking (The Guardian, 2024).
Borders Beneath the Skin
In the shadows of ports, prisons, and refugee camps, the passport has been reduced to flesh, and the border is inscribed in blood. The trail starts in Tripoli, where the Mixed Migration Centre’s Everyone’s Prey briefing (July 2019) reports patterns of kidnapping and extortion of migrants in Libya’s detention industry. Moreover structural analysis such as the OSCE study on trafficking for organ removal coupled with the ICAT policy brief highlight how displacement and detention centers formulate systematic flaws that can be preyed upon by trafficking networks.
Law-enforcement alarm remains unambiguous in INTERPOL’s 2021 assessment which documents that organized crime groups based in North and West Africa prey on migrants and other displaced persons for coerced organ removal often shadowed by medical collusion. The UNODC Global Report on Trafficking in Persons (2022) observes that such trafficking persists in shadows, though it remains rare when in comparison to sexual or labor exploitations. Diesel generators hum into the darkness, fueling flickering lights over neglected wounds. The hum echoes east, into Xinjiang’s Dabancheng complex. Moreover, survivors bore witness before the Uyghur Tribunal revealing that they were subjected to blood draws, tissue typing, and ultrasound scans stripped of consent. In forensic retrospect, these procedures suggest a system where the border no longer ends at territory but continues beneath the skin.
This brutality is mirrored in the testimonies of countless individuals whose voices bleed through silence. On August 10, 2024, The Diplomat reported the public testimony of Cheng Pei Ming, described as the first known survivor of forced organ harvesting in China to speak openly. Cheng remains a crucial witness to an ongoing, state-directed system of coerced organ extraction — a campaign that the independent China Tribunal (2019) concluded was organized and carried out by the Chinese Communist Party, beyond reasonable doubt.
However, Beijing rejects any acknowledgement of state-directed coerced organ harvesting, particularly when involving prisoners of conscience. The official position maintains a stance of denial, asserting that the practice of using organs from executed prisoners was halted in 2015.
Bodies as Evidence: Testimonies of Coerced Organ Harvesting and the Global Shadow Trade
Policy is prose, while the body is evidence. Cheng’s testimony stands as a singular, rare first-person account. He recounts: “They said that I had to undergo an operation, but I firmly refused. They held me down and gave me an injection, and I quickly lost consciousness. When I woke up, I was still in the hospital and felt terrible pain in my side.” Refusal. Confinement. Injection. Blackout. Waking up shackled, with an IV taped to his foot, a drainage tube in his chest, oxygen tubes in his nose, and a thirty-five-centimeter incision. “There was a tube with bloody liquid coming from under the bandaging that was on my side,” he adds, as documented in the ETAC media release.
Additionally, The Diplomat reports that Xinjiang authorities plan to establish six new organ transplant centers despite the region’s strikingly low official voluntary donation rate — a figure widely disputed by human rights organizations.
While the East provides a witness, the South offers a case file. Described by authorities as Egypt’s largest organ-trafficking case to date, the December 2016 raids targeted 10 medical centers, resulting in 37 convictions in 2018. Among those arrested were several medical professionals, and authorities reported the recovery of millions in assets.
Victims, including Sudanese asylum seekers, recounted waking from anesthesia to find fresh surgical dressings, visible scars, and the absence of a kidney. Within North and West Africa, INTERPOL (2021) assessment states that organized crime groups frequently prey on migrants and refugees, often under the guise of “altruistic donations” and frequently shadowed by medical-sector complicity.
Additionally, some clinics are reported to perform both legal and illegal procedures simultaneously. However, weak reporting mechanisms and fragmented medical registries allow the illicit trade to thrive in the shadows.
Across borders, the UNODC Global Report on Trafficking in Persons (2022) records that trafficking for organ removal remains a statistical rarity in detected cases and is chronically under-reported. Furthermore, the only treaty directly addressing organ trafficking, the Council of Europe Convention against Trafficking in Human Organs (CETS No. 216), continues to struggle with limited ratification.
In a parallel theatre, in the Sinai, Eritrean captives have been kidnapped and tortured for ransom. In some cases, they were killed when payments failed; several testimonies also allege organ removal—a practice all too familiar—although rights reporting primarily emphasizes the ransom-torture economy. Yet the trail does not end in Sinai.
In April 2025, the trail led to Saudi Arabia’s Eastern Province, where the body of 19-year-old Beatrice Warguru Mwangi was returned to Kenya. What was returned was missing a stomach, eyes, and reproductive organs; her neck was almost severed. “How is this my daughter? Her body was empty. No stomach inside. Her breasts were cut …,” her mother testified to Migrants-Rights.org. The post-mortem examination in Nairobi further documented signs of strangulation, dehydration, and prolonged starvation. Despite petitions, the case remains unanswered—with no formal inquiry, no published findings, and no transparent remedial steps. One body speaking for many, her body stands as a summons to states to intervene.
Surgical Sovereignty and Stateless Bodies
This cross-national pattern highlights how, in detention and transit zones, where oversight falters and legal authority is often liminal, protection gaps open like unhealed wounds. The absence of identification papers renders human beings harder to see and easier to exploit. These are not isolated anomalies; rather, they expose a deeper implementation gap: the 1954 Convention and the Palermo Protocol—while widely ratified—remain unevenly enforced in practice, repeatedly failing at the stage of implementation. As a result, data remain under-reported, justice remains selective, and access to remedies often depends on documentation and financial means.
At the core of this atrocity lies a collapse of medical integrity—a reversal of the healer’s oath. Clinical spaces become theatres of harm, with ethics dissolved into silence. The obligation remains clear: voluntary, informed consent and the absence of financial gain are fundamental norms, and physicians must not participate in abuse, including in detention settings.
Yet, in documented cases, detainees have repeatedly been subjected to medical procedures without consent and denied proper care—from coercive interventions behind the closed gates of Libyan detention centers to intrusive medical testing in Xinjiang—while criminal networks exploit these systemic gaps. In such contexts, human bodies are treated as inventory rather than as patients.
This dynamic aligns with the concept of surgical sovereignty—the ability of non-state and state-adjacent actors to exert coercive control and extract biological value from stateless and displaced persons.
The concept of surgical sovereignty refers to the ability to use medical infrastructure by non-state actors to exert coercive control and exploit the biological value of stateless persons — those “not considered as nationals by any State under the operation of its law,” as defined in the 1954 Convention Art.1 (1). In these spaces, procedures continue to occur without voluntary, informed consent or credible oversight, reversing medicine’s role from care to control. The framework aligns with biopolitics but specifically isolates the role of medical systems. Moreover, the Palermo Protocol defines trafficking to include exploitation for the removal of organs, even as its implementation remains weak.
In February 2025, authorities in southeast Libya uncovered two migrant mass graves, freed 76 captives, and made three arrests linked to suspected trafficking sites. The following month, Sudanese refugees reported accounts of starvation, rape, slavery — and, in some testimonies, organ harvesting — along migration routes to the north. From a forensic perspective, such conditions cannot sustain lawful surgery: there is no anesthesia, no sterile field, and no consent, as required under the WHO Guiding Principles. Moreover under international law, such death and disappearances demand the recognition of right to life and a duty to reinvestigate as outlined in International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights, Article 6 and the Human Rights Committee’s General Comment No. 36. An individual’s right to health requires consent, documentation and oversight under the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights, Article 12 and CESR General Comment No.14. Failure to keep records or examine remains may be treated as violations.
Although abuses remain widespread and often under-investigated, the law frequently erodes into silence. This is compounded by the absence of an effective accountability mechanism to enforce WHO health standards in conflict settings and detention sites. Current mandates also struggle to reach non-state actors who control many of these camps. As of 2025, the international response has been both limited and late.
Cut in Silence: The Cost of Global Inaction
This silence echoes earlier failures and undermines the very foundations of the post-war settlement the world claims to uphold. The 1947 Nuremberg Code declared voluntary, informed consent to be non-negotiable — even in times of conflict. Yet in modern-day Libya, while the principle is acknowledged in theory, it remains absent in practice.
What fails in implementation locally is often underwritten by decisions made in Europe. Amnesty International’s Europe’s Gatekeeper (2015) reported that EU funding and equipment to Libya’s coastguard and detention systems have given cover to abuses against migrants: arbitrary detention, torture, extortion. Moreover, UN reporting and rights groups have revealed a grim pattern: people returned to Libya vanish into detention centers or unregistered sites. Many then become effectively untraceable. Furthermore, The Global Protection Cluster cautions that Libya’s legal ambiguity between migrants, asylum seekers, refugees, and trafficking survivors becomes a structural barrier to protection and remedies. Médecins Sans Frontières has reported overcrowding and the lack of adequate care: conditions that are irreconcilable with the very principles of medical care and a blatant disregard for the laws of human dignity.
Yet beneath the reports and the evidence, a deeper question is left unanswered. What happens to the body unclaimed by nation, unnamed by law, unacknowledged by history? What happens to a life that holds no legal weight, does its loss echo anywhere? In these spaces, the lack of prosecution remains as the infrastructure of impunity.
Breaking the Silence on Hidden Atrocities
This article does not claim to resolve the failures of states. However, it demands that the silence surrounding medical atrocities be dismantled. As the world increasingly governs bodies before protecting them, a pressing question persists: how long until the promise of healing conceals the reality of extraction?
When the refugee body is no longer seen as a body in need but one that is policed, processed, and politicised, the surgeon’s scalpel — once an instrument of care — becomes a tool of control. These atrocities are not merely the actions of complicit individuals; they are the outcome of systemic structures that strip the stateless and the dispossessed of their humanity.
Once, the international community drew a line after gas seared lungs. Today, the responsibility falls on governments, international bodies, and all who claim moral authority to draw a new line — for those cut in silence — and to outlaw surgical violence against the voiceless. If we remember only the suffering but not the perpetrators, we bury the crime beside the victim.
Will those who once enforced accountability now hold states, militias, and complicit actors responsible for the scalpel used without consent — or will silence remain the price of statelessness? If the world outlawed gas, will it also outlaw surgical violence, or will the voiceless continue to pay the cost of inaction?
(*) Umavi Pagoda is a UK-based A-level student studying Politics, Chemistry, Biology, and Physics, with a focus on the intersection of medical ethics, human rights, and international law. Their work in international debate and policy stimulation has been recognized at multiple high-level Model United Nations conferences Worldwide. Email: pagodaumavi41@gmail.com
Greece has become a critical gateway for asylum-seekers, yet increasingly restrictive migration policies, harsh detention conditions, and reduced aid leave refugees in precarious circumstances. Amid systemic exclusion, NGOs like REFUGYM, Sama Community Center, and El-Sistema Greece foster hope, dignity, and belonging through education, sports, arts, and grassroots initiatives. Drawing on interviews with NGO leaders, refugees, and first-hand field observations, this article highlights both the barriers asylum-seekers face and the community-led solutions redefining resilience. In a climate of tightening borders and rising polarization, refugee-led spaces remain vital for empowerment, solidarity, and imagining more inclusive futures.
By Layla Hajj*
On July 9th, 2025, Prime Minister Kyriakos Mitsotakis announced that Greece will stop the processing of asylum applications arriving from North Africa for three months, claiming that those who enter the country illegally will be “arrested and detained.” Despite the Greek Council for Refugees demanding that there be no suspension of asylum under the premise that it is “illegal,” a violation of international law, and a demonstration of Greece’s failure to guarantee basic fundamental rights, Greece has justified their migration restrictions with the influx of migrants arriving via the Mediterranean route. The government defends that they must halt all illegal migration to increase their country’s security and ensure that they have the adequate resources to distribute to their own citizens, who are currently facing issues such as widespread unemployment.
Those who make it to Greece live in detention centers, formally called refugee camps. Despite government officials denying all accusations, Cyprus and Greece have been repeatedly accused of human rights violations and push backs against migrants by the European Court of Human Rights and other councils.
While camps have always been isolated, cast away in remote mountains outside of the line of sight of most Greek citizens, they have become increasingly restricted in recent years. In 2020, the Greek government built 10 foot concrete retainer walls around a camp referred to as Malakasa 1, which was already surrounded by barbed wire. Within these towering walls, the government has limited the entrepreneurship of refugees, including shutting down most, if not all, of the small businesses running in the camps.
The government has even limited assistance for basic survival necessities. In 2021, between the months of October and December, the state stripped asylum seekers of cash card assistance, a provision that impacted many thousands of asylum-seekers (Refugees International). In 2024, cash assistance was not paid out to migrants for the months of May, June, July, and August. Recently in March of 2025, the government reduced the eligibility period for Refugee Cash Assistance (RCA) and Refugee Medical Assistance (RMA) from 12 months to 4 months. The government has not provided a specific reason for the halting of said assistance.
In an interview with Britty Grace, founder of the NGO REFUGYM and a former service worker in Malakasa 1, she shared some insights into the realities of life inside the camps. “People refer to the camps as prisons” she revealed. People are often uninformed of their rights, detained in the camps for weeks on end for paperwork processing, which inhibits their ability to get a job and provide for their families, and are stripped of housing opportunities overnight. And when asked if the conditions inside of camps have improved over the years, she responded with a direct “No. Things have gotten worse. And when you think things can’t get any worse, they do.”
Britty Grace started working in camps in 2016. Two years later, she started REFUGYM, an NGO that provides community-led-sports programming and language lessons to asylum-seekers. While there are many NGOs like Grace’s dedicated to servicing individuals living in refugee camps, the Greek government has placed several restrictions on their entry. According to Grace, the process of registration with a camp is “very expensive, bureaucratic, and difficult. Even after registration, it ultimately comes down to the discretion of the camp manager. Oftentimes, they don’t provide a reason for kicking us out. And I guess they don’t have to – they’re in charge.”
Grace was kicked out of the camp 5 times over the course of 6 years for trying to implement REFUGYM. “When I started it (REFUGYM), I had always created it to be a community led gym in the eventuality I would be kicked out. That way, it wasn’t completely dependent on me. So when I was forced to leave, REFUGYM was still able to continue for 6 years being led by the community.” However, her continued removal from the camps made management of her organization incredibly difficult, forcing Grace to eventually move her services to an external location.
A colleague of Grace’s, Katerina Tsikalaki, who now collaborates with Grace at her new location, shares similar experiences from working within the camps. As the co-founder of the NGO Science United, she is dedicated to providing science education to displaced youth in Greece. A valuable aspect of her services is providing children with the opportunity to go on field trips to observe the subjects they are learning about.
Tsikalaki shared a vivid memory of a setback she faced while implementing her travel programming: “A few years ago, I spent time planning a science field trip for the kids so that they could visit the Athens Science Festival. It was a much needed opportunity for them to get out of the camp and learn. However, on the planned day of the excursion, the minister abruptly decided to lock down the camp for what he described as procedures. Instead of a fun science excursion, the kids were stuck in the camps all day, watching their parents run through another round of security checks.”
“This was not an isolated event,” Tsikalaki continued. “While residents are allowed out of the camp, they must show identification. And if something goes wrong, they must remain in the camp until further notice. The children, and even adults, absolutely do not have the same rights as Greek residents outside of the camps. But it’s not surprising. We now have a very far-right minister of migration and asylum, Thanos Plevris.”
In the face of strict policy, refugees, with the support of NGOs, still manage to create their own spaces for belonging and success. Since relocating REFUGYM to the Sama community center, positioned right outside Malakasa 1 and 2, Britty Grace has been able to do so much more with her organization. A big part of REFUGYM’s programming has always been the escapism element that it presents participants – before from the typical day in the camps and since relocating, from the camps altogether.
“People come to hang out at Sama when we’re not there. It’s a safe space – a home,” Grace reflects.
Jumping in to support Grace’s comment, a refugee attending a Sama event revealed that “Sama makes life in the camps bearable. Sama gives me a purpose. When I leave to go back to camp, I am more joyful and hopeful.”
Sama is both a place of comfort and excitement. REFUGYM’s sports programming includes climbing trips, hiking, watersports, boxing, yoga and more. The center also hosts women’s weekly only days, cultivating a space in which women feel empowered and secure by offering activities like self-defense and meditation. On top of programming, Sama offers medical services and asylum support every week with the help of doctors and social workers from other NGOS.
A 16 year old frequenter of Sama serves as a prime example of the impact of the centers’ multifaceted program opportunities. He came to Sama illiterate and with a very bad eye condition. However, Britty Grace was able to connect him with an ophthalmologist and get him strong prescription glasses. From that point forward, his confidence increased exponentially. He became literate and learned English within months. Now, he helps translate the English classes for his less-fluent peers. This boy is one of many dedicated participants at the Sama community center. “People often attend 3 or 4 language classes. They are thirsty and keen for knowledge!” Grace exclaimed.
“Over the years a lot of people have asked me to write reference letters for them from when they were a leader in our program, and then that helped them to obtain a job,” Grace revealed. Their dedication inside Sama presents far-reaching opportunities.
Sama community center has also manifested into a space for cultural exchanges. Oftentimes, a Greek native named Maria, who helps teach the Greek lessons, plays music for the migrants on weekends. In return, migrants teach songs to their peers in their native language. “It is a super lovely reciprocal exchange of music. This is such an amazing, organic element that we should encourage,” Grace reflects. “Music is so universal and is an incredible way to promote mutual understanding and connection.”
El-Sistema Greece, a partner organization of REFUGYM, utilizes music as its key tool to promote unity. The organization is a Greek-led NGO that teaches music to both displaced youth and Greek locals, cultivating a space that promotes understanding and cohesion. The team is adamant that they remain a completely Greek team in order to foster a tight-knit community that promotes Greek inclusion, and makes the clear statement that Greece is an inviting country.
In an interview with Anis Barnat, co-founder of the NGO, he explained that: “What we developed is not so much music lessons, it’s nice but it’s not the purpose of what we’re doing. The social element is the most important one and the values that we’re giving to the kids, like learning how to understand differences and how to understand that barriers are most of the time very psychological so you have to overcome that. We try to give our kids as much control over the lesson plan as possible, and encourage them to work together in order to devise a plan. This is the thing that is lacking, I think, in the world in general. Fear and polarization are overtaking our world – and we seek to combat that division through El-Sistema. I love the arts, but we are creating good people, good leaders, and good citizens.”
“It’s essential to start community led projects so that they can be sustainable,” adds Grace. “In such programs. community members feel like it’s their space, so they contribute to it. It’s not just something that they passively show up to. They contribute to it, they help with upkeep, cleaning, and teaching. It’s a collective space as opposed to a hierarchical one.”
We will only see more people displaced from their home countries with the rise of climate change, poverty, and global conflict. In such a time, it is critical to lean on communities and cultivate spaces for inclusion. In the words of Britty Grace, “we must break down barriers in order to foster belonging.”
Layla Hajj is a rising senior at the National Cathedral School in Washington, D.C., and the founder of Refugee Youth Support, a 501(c)(3) nonprofit providing tutoring, mentorship, and school-prep programs for refugee children in the DC area. Over the past three summers, she has interned with the Blossom Hill Foundation, supporting educational initiatives for displaced youth worldwide. She has also traveled to Jordan and Greece to teach English to refugee children, conduct interviews with migration experts and asylum-seekers, and document grassroots efforts to build inclusive communities.
As a youth writer and advocate, Layla works to empower migrant youth and address systemic barriers facing displaced communities. For this article, she draws on interviews with NGO leaders and refugees, as well as her first-hand experiences working near refugee camps, aiming to amplify and contextualize the voices of migrants themselves.
GreeceRefugee.info. (n.d.). “Information and services about rights and procedures for refugees in Greece.” https://greece.refugee.info/en-us (accessed on September 1, 2025).
In this wide-ranging interview with ECPS, Professor Tariq Modood calls for the creation of a “multiculturalist international” to counter the rise of far-right transnational networks and exclusionary nationalisms. Highlighting the dangers posed by xenophobia, Islamophobia, and authoritarian populism across Europe and beyond, Professor Modood argues that multiculturalism is “not simply a reaction to populism… it is a positive vision” that affirms shared citizenship while respecting diversity. He contrasts his model of “moderate secularism” with French laïcité and Hindu nationalist secularism, emphasizing inclusivity and equality. Brexit, he notes, weakened the EU’s capacity for multicultural integration: “We need to create a multiculturalist alliance across countries, in the way that the far right is creating its own transnational network.”
In an era marked by the transnational rise of far-right populism, exclusionary nationalism, and algorithmically amplified xenophobia, Professor Tariq Modood, the founding Director of the Bristol University Research Centre for the Study of Ethnicity and Citizenship, offers a deeply considered and nuanced account of how multiculturalism can serve as both a critique of and alternative to these reactionary forces. As one of Europe’s leading theorists of multicultural citizenship, Professor Modood’s work insists on reconciling respect for ethno-religious group identities with an inclusive and reconstituted national identity—a project he characterizes as “multicultural nationalism.”
In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Modood, who is also one of the signatories of the “International Declaration Against Fascism,” published on June 13, 2025, alongside Nobel laureates, public intellectuals, and leading scholars of democracy and authoritarianism, explains that his vision of multiculturalism is “not simply a reaction to populism, nor a political strategy against it; it is a positive vision.” For Professor Modood, multiculturalism affirms that “we are not just individuals” but also members of groups whose identities have historically been marginalized or excluded from full membership in national life. Yet this project is integrative, not separatist: “We must not become anti-national. We must oppose the exploitation of national identity to exclude, racialize, or degrade others,” he emphasizes, rejecting both monocultural nationalism and cosmopolitan detachment.
A key element of Professor Modood’s thought is his advocacy for “moderate secularism,” which contrasts sharply with both French laïcité and authoritarian appropriations of secularism in places like India. Unlike the rigid secularism that seeks to privatize or marginalize religion, moderate secularism recognizes the public role of religious identities while embedding them in democratic equality and inclusion: “Moderate secularism can be inclusionary and potentially develop in a multiculturalist direction,” he explains.
In response to the global diffusion of far-right discourse—whether through social media networks or coordinated political strategies—Professor Modood argues for an explicitly internationalist response rooted in multicultural values. “I would like to say that one way of resisting that is trying to create a multiculturalism international—not just a far-right international, but a multiculturalism international,” he asserts. Brexit, in this regard, represented a significant setback: “When we left the European Union, much against my wishes, the European Union became weaker in relation to multiculturalism and anti-racism.”
Throughout this wide-ranging conversation, Professor Modood emphasizes that multicultural nationalism requires a “rethinking of our national identity and national story so that minority identities can become part of the national identity,” offering examples from Britain’s imperial history and inclusive popular culture, such as the 2012 London Olympics. His vision ultimately calls for a democratic, pluralistic, and solidaristic reimagining of national belonging—an urgent project in a time of resurgent authoritarianism.
Here is the transcript of our interview with Professor Tariq Modood, edited lightly for readability.
Religious tolerance-themed graffiti in Bristol, UK. August 31, 2009. Photo: Dreamstime.
Multiculturalism Is a Positive Vision, Not Just a Strategy Against Populism
Professor Tariq Modood, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: As a signatory of the June 13, 2025 anti-fascism declaration, how would you theorize the contemporary far-right populist phenomenon as an incipient form of fascism—particularly in the light of Viktor Orbán’s “illiberal democracy” in Hungary and Donald Trump’s authoritarian revival in the US—and what normative resources does your conception of multicultural nationalism offer for resisting this resurgence while preserving democratic pluralism?
Professor Tariq Modood: Thank you very much for inviting me onto your site. I should explain that while I was a signatory to that letter—which I thought was important and was glad to sign—it is not, as such, an example of my own research or thinking.
You asked how I see multicultural nationalism relating to the fight against fascism and populism. The first thing to say is that I see them as connected, but not directly or immediately; they are connected through several layers of unpacking. For me, multiculturalism—the central theoretical and political idea I work with—is a positive idea and a value in itself. It is not simply a reaction to populism or a political strategy against it; it is a positive vision.
And what is this positive vision? It is the idea that we are not just individuals. We have various group identities that are important to us, and some of these identities have been the basis for exclusion from rights, opportunities, participation, and full membership in citizenship and national identity.
Multiculturalism asserts that if these identities are important and valuable to their bearers, then not only must they not be a basis for exclusion or discrimination, but they should also be valued within our common citizenship. These group memberships and identities are part of who we are—not merely abstract individuals as understood by law.
Another important identity for multiculturalism is national identity. Why? Because multiculturalism, in order to get people to respect group identities, has to work with a strong concept of citizenship. Citizenship requires respect for group identities as a basis of inclusion because citizenship is egalitarian and inclusive. But this is not just liberal citizenship focused on equality before the law and individual rights; rather, it is a stronger concept of citizenship as a collectivity with shared identity and significance for its members. Citizenship and national identity are tied together. When we appeal for multicultural equality, we appeal to citizenship, but we need a strong sense of citizenship—identifying with and insisting on our right to belong to that national identity.
That is why multiculturalism works with two identities: respect for group identities (e.g., British Pakistani, Jewish, Hindu, Black) and respect for national identity, which should bring us all together. Multiculturalism must also resist exclusion when it occurs. Once we understand this, we see that multiculturalism is diametrically opposed to monocultural nationalism, which is exclusionary and creates two tiers of citizenship: “real” nationals and second-class citizens who do not really belong. Multiculturalism is totally against that idea and, therefore, against nationalist populism—but it opposes it because of its own value commitments. It is not simply a political strategy for opposing fascism.
Multiculturalism as an Alternative Nation-Building Project
What do you take to be the normative and institutional obligations of democratic polities in mediating the tension between protecting minorities from processes of “othering” and responding to legitimate concerns of cultural majorities—particularly in contexts where populist narratives exploit these tensions?
Professor Tariq Modood: Some people who are anti-right-wing and anti-populism misunderstand the situation. You referred to those who exploit national identity and tensions within our national community—the key word being exploit. We must not become anti-national; we must oppose the exploitation of national identity to exclude, racialize, or degrade others. The national itself is not the problem. That’s why I say some anti-populists misunderstand this issue: they declare themselves anti-nationalism.
Well, I am certainly not anti-nationalism, because I support multicultural nationalism. I believe in an alternative conception of national belonging and identity that contrasts with populist, divisive, monocultural nationalism. I’m not anti-national or anti-nationalist.
The key is to reclaim the idea of the national. We mustn’t allow right-wing figures like Nigel Farage in Britain, Marine Le Pen in France, and others to define themselves as the “true nationalists” while casting people like me—and perhaps you—as anti-nationalists. No, I want to assert that I am a nationalist too, but with a better understanding of who we are today and who we can become in the future—how we can unite our nation rather than divide it, not to transcend our nation but to transform it.
In this sense, multiculturalism is an alternative nation-building project, and that’s how we counter those who exploit tensions within our national community.
Moderate Secularism as an Inclusive Alternative to Authoritarian Models
Muslims demonstrating against Islamophobia outside the Grande Mosquée de Paris, France. Photo: Tom Craig.
In what ways does your model of “moderate secularism” serve as a corrective to both French laïcité and Hindu nationalist instrumentalizations of secularism in India, and how can it safeguard against appropriation by exclusionary or authoritarian iterations of secularism emerging from the populist right?
Professor Tariq Modood: This is quite a complicated question you’ve asked me because it brings in something new—namely, the idea of moderate secularism. So, I first need to explain that idea before I can answer the rest of the question.A lot of people—liberals and progressives—say that we live in secular societies and therefore shouldn’t have religion in politics or shouldn’t have the state recognizing religious groups, Christians or Muslims or Hindus. But that’s not the reality of the societies we live in.
France is somewhat different, but Britain, the Netherlands, Germany, Sweden, Norway—these are all secular societies. No one can say they’re not secular polities, but they accommodate religion or some religions within the public sphere. They often fund various aspects of organized religious activity, whether it’s education, maintaining cathedrals and church heritage, or expecting religious organizations to provide welfare work. Germany, for instance, has an enormous welfare budget that it hands over to churches as well as collecting taxes to give to the churches.
So, I say we need a concept to describe this relationship. We are clearly secular polities—we are not run by religious organizations. Britain is not governed by the Church of England, and the Church of England is not a powerful institution. So, we are secular countries—but what kind of secularism is this? It’s not like the laïcité of France; it’s not like the secularism of the Soviet Union or the People’s Republic of China. Those are forms of radical secularism.
By contrast, this is a form of moderate secularism. One of the things moderate secularism can do is serve as a platform for recognizing excluded or newly settled religious minorities, like Muslims, for instance. Therefore, moderate secularism can be inclusionary and potentially develop in a multiculturalist direction, so that it doesn’t have to be exclusionary, as it is in France. Laïcité is hardening—it’s not being moderated; it’s being hardened in order to discipline or exclude Muslims, to confront them in the name of so-called secular values, national culture, or national identity.
We have to oppose those kinds of authoritarian secularisms. Sometimes these secularisms are not quite like France in that they are not anti-religious, but rather in alliance with the majority religion. This fits the example you gave of India, where the majority religion is being reconceptualized as a national ideology: everyone has to belong, in some way or another, to this Hindu nation; otherwise, they’re not a true Indian. So that’s a kind of secularism, because otherwise India has a very pluralistic tradition—a pluralistic secularism—which is now being defeated, pushed aside by the current Modi government; they’ve been doing this for about 15 years.
That’s how moderate secularism can be inclusive—unlike the radical secularism of France or China, and unlike the majoritarian religious nationalism of countries like India or, for that matter, Turkey. Quite a few Sunni Muslim countries also move in that direction. India has taken it even further, but this kind of authoritarian religious majoritarianism is, at present, all too common in Muslim countries around the world.
Rethinking National History as a Shared Story of Inclusion
To what extent does multicultural nationalism necessitate a historiographical reconstitution of national narratives, and how can such reconstructions avoid exacerbating cultural polarization or being dismissed as an elite project of historical revisionism?
Professor Tariq Modood: That’s a good question, and I don’t really have a fully satisfactory answer, because we really do need to rethink our history. Take Britain: British Empire, British glory, conquered the world, and so on. Well, we can’t tell that story in a simplistic way, as if the British were simply on top, a superior race, doing all this to the rest of the world. We need to tell a story that is about domination and conquest, but also about mixing—how India became part of Britain because the British went out there and ruled India but did so by connecting with Indians in various ways. They certainly modified India in major ways, but there was influence coming back as well. Just think about the number of Urdu and Hindi words in the English language—it’s enough to fill a big dictionary, and these dictionaries exist.
In any case, we need to tell that history to explain how we came to be the current population of Great Britain. There’s an old political slogan: “I’m over here because you were over there.” So yes, we need to tell this story of how the British made Indians British, because my story of being a Briton does not begin when I came to Britain as a child; it’s older than that. It belongs to the British making India British—that includes my dad, my grandparents, my ancestors, and so on. I became part of the British story through a historical formation of domination and conquest—but not only so.
In any case, we have to tell that story. I can see there are difficulties in how we tell it because it can be conflictual, and that’s something we want to avoid because multicultural nationalism is about bringing people together, respecting each other, and treating each other as equal members. So, there will be some revision and tension—I don’t think we can avoid it—but we need to try, bite the bullet, and think our way through. But there can be positive presentations; it doesn’t have to be just an elite project.
One of the best examples of a non-elite presentation of this project is the opening ceremony of the London Olympics of 2012. Have you seen it? You really should, and your readers really should. It’s not very long—about 45 minutes or so—and it told, in a dramatic, playful, and friendly way, to British people and the rest of the world, “this is the country we are.” It was a very inclusive Britain, which included people from the West Indies, Africa, Pakistan, India, Bangladesh, and so on—and the youth culture they have created today. So, I think there are non-elitist ways of telling this story. Probably sport is actually the main vehicle at the moment through which this story is being told—or if it’s not a story, these emotions and sensibilities are being formed. We have lots of Black players in our football teams, followed all over the world, and in our national team as well. We have multi-ethnic cricket teams and other sports. Entertainment is a real melting pot or mixing place for people of different heritages and colors, who then put on an England shirt or a British badge and are cheered and recognized as such by all the fans. So that’s another way of doing it in a non-elitist way.
Respect for Group Identities Must Go Hand in Hand with Shared National Belonging
Women in festive costumes with decorative flowers in their hair dance through the streets during the annual Belfast Mela Carnival Parade, celebrating multiculturalism and diversity in Belfast, UK, on August 17, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.
How do you address critiques that your emphasis on the public recognition of ethno-religious identities risks entrenching communitarian enclaves, as critics argue may be occurring in parts of Belgium or Germany, potentially impeding the development of integrative civic identities?
Professor Tariq Modood: Yes, I can see that sometimes ethnic community identities, based on flows of migrations over 50 years or so, can sometimes become segregated parts of cities and can be quite inward-looking. There are a number of aspects to this. One is that when people come to a city or country, they obviously need to meet people who speak their language and who can guide them, assist them, advise them about housing, work, schools for their children, where to shop for food they want, and about places of worship—they may want to live near a temple or mosque. So, all these things lead to a certain amount of clustering, and that’s very understandable.
But they may also feel unsafe because they fear racist abuse against themselves, the elderly, or their children. So again, they may huddle together for safety. We also have the phenomenon of white flight: when significant numbers of ethnic minorities move into a neighborhood or street, white residents begin to leave. That, of course, makes it more of a ghetto, more segregated. So, we do have to avoid segregated communities—it is an issue. We have to encourage people to mix more. Certainly, we have to protect them from racist abuse in the street and in workplaces, and from violence against themselves, their property, cultural centers, mosques, and so on. All those things need to be done to enable people to more freely spread out and not be so concentrated together.
Moreover, there are issues to do with identity. Going back to the beginning helps me round this off. I said it is important for multiculturalists to respect group identities that their bearers value, but at the same time, to allow everyone to join in, share in, and take pride in our national identity and citizenship. Similarly, when it comes to what are called divisive identities or communitarianism, we need to encourage these dual identities—they are not just dual, really, they are multiple. But the key point is that we need to encourage identities that matter to individuals as members of a group, while also encouraging identities that matter to them as members of their country.
For multiculturalism in particular, the important thing is that these aren’t just two things we do in parallel, but that we bring them together and do them together. One way of doing this is by rethinking our national identity and national story so that minority identities can become part of the national identity. I gave you examples of how the British coming to India made my ancestors and my family part of Britain—and so we need to recognize that. I also gave you the example of the London Olympic opening ceremony, which celebrated an idea of what it is to be British that was not tied to being white, Christian, or secular. It was tied to other identities important to people as well, not forgetting national identities such as Scottish, Welsh, and Northern Irish. These are ways we can avoid narrow identities, because we want to respect identities—but within a national framework of equality, inclusion, recognition, and valuing ourselves as members of a national community.
Multiculturalist International vs. Far-Right International
Given the anti-fascist imperative to “defy authoritarianism globally,” how might multicultural frameworks respond to transnational threats such as algorithmic disinformation networks amplifying xenophobia, global Islamophobia intensified by networks stretching from India to Europe, and exclusionary imaginaries promoted by far-right parties like Alternative für Deutschland or Italy’s Fratelli d’Italia?
Professor Tariq Modood: Your question brings together a number of things. Firstly, some fascist and racist messages become transnational. I understand that, of course, because the social media we are using is global and things go viral on it—it’s a real problem. But of course, the opposite—positive messages—can also become global and viral. For example, Black Lives Matter wasn’t simply a local Minnesota thing or even just a US movement; it became very important in Britain, parts of Europe, and other parts of the world. So clearly, social media has both positive and very negative, divisive aspects.
Another part of your question was about the power of certain projections like Alternative für Deutschland, because AfD is really quite a national project—they’re not trying to be transnational—but various kinds of far-right groups are connecting in a transnational way. That is obvious, often led by the American far right or by Hungarian-sponsored conferences and networks because of Orbán. So yes, they want to group together, and it’s quite paradoxical that they do, because they all want to say their country is the most important—make America great again, make Germany great again, leave the EU, make Britain great again, etc.—and yet they see they can best cooperate because they have a similar message in their own countries.
I would like to say that one way of resisting that is trying to create a multiculturalism international—not just a far-right international, but a multiculturalism international. In this regard, Brexit was really very disappointing for people like me, because I think that Britain is the most multiculturalist country in Europe. So, when we left the European Union, much against my wishes and for other reasons as well, the European Union became weaker in relation to multiculturalism and anti-racism. So, I do think we need to create a multiculturalist alliance across countries, in the way that the far right is creating its own kind of exclusionary nationalism within a transnational network.
Please cite as: Wathtuwa-Durayalage, Sudeshika. (2025). “Impact of Civilizational Populism on Intergroup Emotions, Social Cohesion, and Civility in the UK.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). June 11, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000115
Abstract
This study investigates the impact of civilizational populism on intergroup emotions, social cohesion, and civility in the United Kingdom using quantitative analysis of British Social Attitudes Survey (BSA) 2021 data. The findings reveal significant correlations between exposure to populist rhetoric and heightened negative emotions, such as fear and anger, toward ethnoreligious and political minorities (r = 0.56). While political affiliation demonstrates a weaker direct influence (r = 0.14), perceptions of migration as culturally and economically beneficial are strongly associated with higher social cohesion (r = 0.69). Minority groups report elevated levels of exclusion and fear, yet national pride correlates with inclusive attitudes in some cases (r = -0.64, with prejudicial views). Civil society organizations play a critical role in mitigating divisive effects by fostering inclusivity and dialogue. These insights inform strategies to counteract the polarizing impacts of civilizational populism, emphasizing the importance of inclusive narratives and policy interventions to enhance social cohesion in diverse societies. The study’s limitations include reliance on secondary data and challenges in establishing causality, highlighting the need for further research using more direct measures of populism and contemporary datasets. Despite these constraints, the findings contribute empirical evidence to the growing literature on the social and emotional consequences of populism, offering a foundation for policies aimed at promoting harmony and reducing polarization in the UK.
Keywords: Civilizational populism, intergroup emotions, social cohesion, civility
By Sudeshika Wathtuwa-Durayalage
Introduction
This study investigates the influence of civilisational populism on intergroup emotions and attitudes towards ethnoreligious and political minorities in the UK. Specifically, it examines the effects of civilisational populism on social cohesion and civility at the local and national levels, and how individuals and communities respond to and resist populist rhetoric. Central to this inquiry is an exploration of the emotional responses elicited by civilisational populism, such as fear, anger, and resentment, and the strategies civil society organisations employ to mitigate its divisive effects.
While there has been extensive research on the general impact of populism on political attitudes and intergroup relations, there is a significant gap in understanding the specific emotional and social consequences of civilisational populism, particularly in the UK context. Civilisational populism differs from other forms of populism by framing political discourse regarding civilisational identities and perceived existential threats to cultural values and ways of life. Current literature inadequately addresses how this form of populism shapes intergroup emotions, such as fear and resentment, and its implications for social cohesion. Furthermore, there is a paucity of research on how communities and civil society organisations respond to civilisational populism, especially in fostering social cohesion and civility in the context of rising divisive rhetoric.
This research is significant as it aims to provide a nuanced understanding of how civilisational populism influences emotional and social dynamics within ethnoreligious and political groups in the UK. By focusing on emotional responses and community reactions to civilisational populism, this study offers critical insights into how populist rhetoric shapes social cohesion and civility in diverse societies. Additionally, identifying the coping mechanisms and resistance strategies employed by communities will contribute to policy and intervention strategies aimed at mitigating the divisive impacts of populism. Ultimately, this research could inform efforts to strengthen social cohesion and civility in increasingly pluralistic and politically polarised societies.
The research questions are as follows:
How does civilisational populism influence intergroup emotions and attitudes toward ethnoreligious and political minorities in the UK?
What are the effects of civilisational populism on social cohesion and civility in local and national contexts?
How do individuals and communities respond to populist rhetoric, and what coping mechanisms or resistance strategies are employed to maintain social cohesion?
There are three research objectives aligned with this research, as follows:
To explore how civilisational populism impacts the emotional responses (e.g., fear, anger, and resentment) of different ethnoreligious and political groups in the UK.
To analyse the relationship between civilisational populism and social cohesion, focusing on the extent to which it promotes or undermines community trust and cooperation.
To identify the strategies utilised by civil society organisations and communities to counteract the divisive effects of populism and foster civility.
Civilisational populism, as defined in this research, uniquely frames political discourse around existential threats to cultural values, in contrast to general populism that targets the elite. This study explores its significant emotional and societal impacts on social cohesion, particularly among ethnoreligious and political minorities. The central argument posits that civilisational populism exacerbates fear, anger, and resentment toward minority groups, undermining local and national social cohesion. Civil society and communities can mitigate these divisive impacts by fostering civility and employing coping mechanisms. Through a robust quantitative approach utilising British Social Attitudes Survey (BSA) data, this research seeks to empirically establish correlations between populist rhetoric and intergroup emotions.
van Oosten, Sanne. (2025). “Do Muslims Have Different Attitudes and Voting Behaviour Than the Majority Populations of France, Germany and the Netherlands?” European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). June 10, 2025. https://doi.org/10.55271/rp00100
Abstract
The political preferences of Muslims are often the source of contention and misinformation. In continental Europe, there is not much data available on political preferences of Muslims due to strict privacy regulations, creating a knowledge lacuna allowing for misinformation to fester. In this report, I focus on three countries where privacy regulations are particularly longstanding: France, Germany, and the Netherlands. I use a novel sampling method that complies with privacy regulations while achieving a large enough sample of minority respondents to conduct statistical analyses. Regarding policy preferences, I find that respondents with a Muslim minority background have more conservative attitudes towards same-sex adoption, while showing very similar attitudes to white majority respondents when it comes to gender equality. Respondents with a Muslim minority background are, however, more progressive on immigration and religious freedoms for Muslims. Regarding voting preferences, Muslims show very similar patterns to their majority counterparts, with a few exceptions (La France Insoumise (FI) in France, and in the Netherlands DENK and Partij voor de Vrijheid (PVV)). This paper seeks to put an end to persistent speculation about the political preferences of Muslims, particularly Muslims, in France, Germany, and the Netherlands.
The political preferences of Muslims in western countries are the subject of recurring speculation (Turnbull-Dugarte and Lopez, 2024; Turnbull-Dugarte et al., 2025; van Oosten, 2025a; 2025b). Political leaders often claim that Muslims vote for them to present themselves as legitimate leaders of all people, while at the same time, some political leaders claim that Muslims and other minorities have been imported by elites to vote for pro-immigrant parties and change society from within (Bracke and Aguilar, 2022; van Oosten, 2025a). Political actors also often point to the attitudes of Muslims to justify their exclusion from national communities (Glas, 2023; Spierings, 2021; De Lange and Mügge, 2015). These claims focus on issues like opposition to gay rights (Puar, 2013), perceived sexism (Farris, 2017), antisemitism (van Oosten, 2024a) or animal cruelty (Backlund and Jungar, 2022; van Oosten, 2024b). Far-right parties use these examples to argue that Muslims do not share core liberal values, and therefore do not belong in liberal societies (van Oosten, 2024b; 2022). These claims, however, are rarely supported by data. This report examines whether Muslims in France, Germany, and the Netherlands hold different political preferences from their white majority counterparts.
Standard sampling strategies do not yield enough minority participants for statistical analyses (Font and Méndez, 2013). Moreover, strict European privacy regulations limit the availability of sampling frames for racial/ethnic and religious minorities in the European context (Simon, 2017). To overcome these challenges, I surveyed a large sample of Kantar-panellists and used a mini-survey to oversample voters from France, Germany, and the Netherlands with a migration background in Turkey (France, Germany, and the Netherlands), North Africa (France), Sub-Saharan Africa (France), the Former Soviet Union (Germany), Surinam (the Netherlands), and Morocco (the Netherlands). I sampled a high number of minority respondents, with 1889 out of a total N of 3058 respondents having a migration background, of which 649 self-identify as Muslim. I asked these respondents for their propensity to vote (PTV) for all political parties in the French, German and Dutch parliament at the time of data collection, as well as their attitudes towards 8 key policy preferences spanning socio-cultural and socio-economic themes.
In this paper, I test whether Muslims and other minority groups differ from majority voters in their support for political parties in France, Germany, and the Netherlands. I find that Muslim voters are much less likely to support PVV in the Netherlands but are just as likely to vote for the RN in France or AfD in Germany (all three far right). Minority and majority voters are equally likely to support mainstream left parties, such as PS in France, the SPD in Germany, and PvdA in the Netherlands. Muslim minority voters are more likely to support left-populist parties DENK in the Netherlands and FI in France. In terms of policy preferences, respondents with a Muslim minority background hold more conservative views on same-sex adoption but show similar attitudes to majority respondents on gender equality. They are, however, more progressive on immigration and Muslim religious freedoms.
This report aims to contribute to the debate about the voting behaviour of Muslims in Western Europe, a debate that is often speculative and not based on data from academic scholars. Far right party leaders, thinkers and pundits have fuelled misunderstandings about minority voting patterns. In reality, the political preferences of Muslims, a minority, are very similar to the political preferences of the majority population. This report seeks to provide clarity and offer a data-driven response to counter the narrative that some political leaders might use to exploit the supposed voting behaviours of minorities for their political gain. Through empirical analysis, this study contributes to a more accurate understanding of ethnic minority political preferences and aims to challenge rhetoric with factual evidence.
Sampling Method and Sample Composition
I conducted this research in France (van Oosten et al., 2024a), Germany (van Oosten et al., 2024b) and the Netherlands (van Oosten et al., 2024c), three countries with key differences. In France, there is a strong emphasis on citizenship, secularism and a strong division between church and state (Kuru, 2008). In Germany, Christian political parties have had a longstanding presence (Ahrens et al., 2022) and the approach towards Muslims is characterised by the history of integration of guestworkers (Yurdakul, 2009). The Netherlands has a host of Christian parties (Kešić and Duyvendak, 2019), a tradition of high minority representation in politics (Hughes, 2016: 560), increased by the emergence of a political party run by Muslim parliamentarians and voicing Muslim interests in 2017, DENK (van Oosten et al., 2024d). All three countries have a history of parliamentarians from mainstream and populist radical right parties espousing Islamophobic rhetoric, with France and the Netherlands having a longer and more vociferous history of populist radical right parties and Germany being relatively new to the game and taking on a comparatively less strident tone (Brubaker, 2017).
I oversampled respondents with specific migration backgrounds to make group-specific statistical inferences (Font and Méndez, 2013: 48) and chose minoritised groups: numeric minorities that state experiencing discrimination to the largest extent (FRA: European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2017: 31). In France, the oversampled groups of ethnic minority citizens consist of French citizens with a North-African (Morocco, Tunisia, Algeria), Sub-Saharan African (Niger, Mauritania, Ivory Coast, French Sudan, Senegal, Chad, Gabon, Cameroon, Congo) and Turkish background. In Germany, I oversampled German citizens with a Turkish and Former Soviet Union (FSU) background. In the Netherlands, I oversampled Dutch citizens with a Turkish, Moroccan and Surinamese background. Some groups have come to France, Germany or the Netherlands as a result of the colonial ties between host and home country, some came as guest workers (FRA: European Union Agency for Fundamental Rights, 2017: 93). I also oversampled French citizens with a Turkish background and German re-migrants from the FSU. Some, but not all, of the oversampled migration backgrounds are countries with Muslim-majority populations, making it possible to disentangle whether differences are either religiously or ethnically/racially driven. In this paper, I present data for the Muslim subgroup, but the data also includes other minoritised groups and analyses by these groups are also available for researchers.
After running pilots and obtaining the ethics approval, (see appendix: van Oosten, 2025c), I gathered data between March and August of 2020 amongst 3058 citizens of France, Germany and the Netherlands, administered by survey agency Kantar Public (for all replication materials and appendices, see van Oosten, 2025b). One important challenge in surveying ethnic/racial minority groups comes from the General Data Protection Regulation (GDPR), a European law legally restricting saving data on race and ethnicity (European Commission 2018). I overcame this challenge by employing a large-scale filter question to the representative Kantar-panels in all three countries. I asked a very large sample to participate in a mini survey. The first and only question of this mini survey asks where their mother and father were born. If either one of their parents were born in a country of origin I wanted to oversample, I redirected this respondent to the full survey. If not, I either terminated the survey or redirected a small percentage to the full survey. This enabled us to form sizable groups of minority citizens for our final survey, ensuring ample diversity, a feature so often missing from survey research (e.g. Coppock and McClellan, 2018). Though there is still a chance of selection bias (see van Oosten, 2025d for a discussion on the selection bias in this sample), I have variables to weight the data on gender, migration background, education, age, urbanisation and region, and the findings are broadly the same with and without weights.
Respondents received so-called ‘LifePoints’ (France and Germany) or ‘Nipoints’ (the Netherlands) for the completion of the survey. With these points, respondents can periodically convert their saved points to an online gift card. The survey took about fifteen minutes to complete, which translated to an equivalent of two euros in gift card value. I ended up with the following number of respondents in each group:
I assessed migration background by inquiring about the birthplaces of respondents’ mothers and fathers. It was necessary to ask this question first for sampling purposes. To minimise potential ordering effects on the data, I randomised the order in which respondents viewed the policy questions and experimental profiles (for the full questionnaire, see appendix in van Oosten, 2025c). To mitigate acquiescence bias, where respondents tend to agree with statements, I randomised the wording of the policy questions. For instance, one half of the sample saw the statement: “the taxes for this rich should be raised” and the other half saw “the taxes for the rich should be lowered” and I recoded the variables accordingly. I prepared the data using R-package ‘tidyr’ (Wickham, 2020, see all code and replication materials here: van Oosten, 2025c).
Minorities’ Policy Preferences
In the following section, I first present the policy preferences of two groups: non-religious ethnic majority respondents and Muslim ethnic minority respondents (for other subgroups see appendix at van Oosten, 2025c). I present the distribution of the responses in a histogram, with a black line indicating the mean score. I asked respondents to indicate their agreement with a series of policy statements using an 11-point scale, ranging from 0 (strongly disagree) to 10 (strongly agree). The statements covered a broad range of topics, including attitudes towards state intervention, immigration, Islam, gender and sexuality. The attitudes towards state intervention are as follows: “The tax rate for the rich must be higher/lower,” “Our government should raise/lower support for the unemployed,” “Our government should do less/more to combat climate change than now,” and “Our government needs to lower/raise fuel prices.” Attitudes towards immigration and Islam are as follows: “Immigrants are a burden/an asset to our country,” “Islam should (not) be restricted by law.” I measure gender attitudes as follows: “That men and women receive equal pay for equal work should (not) be regulated by law,” and sexuality as follows: “Homosexual couples should (not) be allowed to adopt children.”
I compared the responses of non-religious ethnic majority respondents with those of ethnic minority respondents who self-identified as practicing Muslims. Differences between the groups were negligible for most policy areas, including taxation, unemployment, climate policy, fuel prices, and gender equality. However, Muslim respondents were more likely to oppose adoption rights for same-sex couples, and more supportive of immigration and religious freedoms for Muslims.
Subsequently, I present data for voting preferences. I asked respondents about their willingness to vote for a wide range of political parties in their respective countries using so-called “Propensity to Vote” (PTV) questions. Respondents were asked: “Please indicate the likelihood that you will ever vote for the following parties. If you are certain that you will never vote for this party then choose 0; if you are certain to vote for this party someday, then enter 10. Of course you can also choose an intermediate position.” In France, the list of parties included LREM, LR, PS, MoDem, FI, PCF, RN (formerly Front National), and MR. In Germany, I asked about CDU, SPD, AfD, FDP, Die Linke, Grüne, and CSU. In the Netherlands, the full list consisted of CDA, ChristenUnie, D66, DENK, FvD, GroenLinks, PvdA, PvdD, PVV, SGP, SP, and VVD.
In the figures below, I present histograms of the responses for two parties per country: FI and RN in France, Die Linke and AfD in Germany, and DENK and PVV in the Netherlands. These pairs were selected to contrast parties often associated with the ethnic majority versus those associated with minority or immigrant support. Full results for all parties are available in the appendix (van Oosten, 2025c). Our findings show that there are relatively few differences in voting propensities between non-religious ethnic majority respondents and Muslim ethnic minority respondents in France and Germany. In France, Muslims are about as likely as non-religious majority respondents to consider voting for both RN and FI. Similarly, in Germany, I find little difference between these two groups in their willingness to vote for Die Linke or AfD. The Netherlands stands out in this regard: Muslim respondents are significantly more likely to consider voting for DENK, a party with strong minority and Muslim support, while being far less likely to vote for the PVV, a party known for its anti-Muslim rhetoric. This suggests that differences in vote propensity by group are more pronounced in the Dutch context than in France or Germany.
Minorities’ Voting Preferences
Conclusion
In terms of policy preferences, the differences between Muslims and non-religious ethnic majority respondents are generally small, except in a few areas. Muslims tend to be more supportive of immigration and Muslim rights and less supportive of same-sex couples adopting children. There are no major differences on issues like gender equality, though. When it comes to voting preferences, there are bigger differences in the Netherlands compared to France and Germany. In the Netherlands, Muslims are much less likely to vote for the PVV, but more likely to vote for DENK. In France and Germany, there are fewer differences between Muslims and non-religious ethnic majorities, with both groups showing similar preferences for parties like RN and FI in France, and AfD and Die Linke in Germany.
This paper addresses the ongoing speculations about the policy and voting preferences of Muslims in France, Germany, and the Netherlands. Political leaders and commentators regularly spread misinformation; possibly unintentionally, possibly deliberately (van Oosten, 2025a). This false information about minority voting habits can mislead the public and fuel xenophobic views. In reality, Muslims often share similar political preferences with the majority population, though not always. This paper presents descriptive statistics to challenge false narratives. Combating misinformation is vital for the health of democracies, as it helps maintain informed discussions and trust in democratic institutions.
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I assessed migration background by inquiring about the birthplaces of respondents’ mothers and fathers. It was necessary to ask this question first for sampling purposes. To minimise potential ordering effects on the data, I randomised the order in which respondents viewed the policy questions and experimental profiles (for the full questionnaire, see appendix in van Oosten, 2025c). To mitigate acquiescence bias, where respondents tend to agree with statements, I randomised the wording of the policy questions. For instance, one half of the sample saw the statement: “the taxes for this rich should be raised” and the other half saw “the taxes for the rich should be lowered” and I recoded the variables accordingly. I prepared the data using R-package ‘tidyr’ (Wickham, 2020, see all code and replication materials here: van Oosten, 2025c).
Conclusion