Dr. Kamran Matin is a Reader in International Relations at the University of Sussex.

Dr. Kamran Matin: Iran Regime Has Ruled by Coercion, Not Consent

Iran is entering a critical juncture as renewed protests expose both the fragility and the resilience of the Islamic Republic. In this in-depth interview with the ECPS, Dr. Kamran Matin argues that since the 2009 Green Movement, the Iranian regime has ruled “primarily through coercion rather than consent,” relying on repression while retaining the support of only a small social base. Yet violence alone does not explain regime survival. As Matin emphasizes, the Islamic Republic endures “not only through violence, but through a fragmented opposition” that lacks organizational depth, ideological coherence, and a credible alternative vision. Drawing on political economy, Gramscian theory, and regional geopolitics, Dr. Matin analyzes why economic shocks quickly become systemic political crises in Iran—and why, despite widespread de-legitimation, the unresolved question of “what comes next” continues to constrain revolutionary outcomes.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Iran has entered one of the most volatile phases of its post-1979 history. The protest wave that erupted after the sharp currency shock of late December 2025 quickly escalated into explicitly anti-regime mobilization, revealing not only the depth of socio-economic dislocation but also the political vulnerabilities of the Islamic Republic. In this interview with the European Center for Populism Studies, Dr. Kamran Matin—Reader in International Relations at the University of Sussex—offers a theoretically informed analysis of the current conjuncture, foregrounding two interlinked claims that capture the central stakes of the moment: “Since 2009, [the] Iran regime has ruled by coercion, not consent,” and “[the] Iran regime survives not only through violence, but through a fragmented opposition.”

For Dr. Matin, the disputed 2009 election and the Green Movement mark a critical turning point in the regime’s mode of rule. As he emphasizes, “almost all of these signals are present in some form, but at least since 2009—going back to that critical moment—the Iranian state, the Islamic Republic, has ruled primarily through coercion rather than consent.” In his account, the erosion of consent is not merely ideological but institutional: the narrowing of factional pluralism and the weakening of reformist mediation diminished the regime’s capacity to manage dissent through electoral incorporation. The result, he argues, is a system that “retains the support of a small segment of Iranian society—perhaps 10 to 15 percent at most, and maybe closer to 10 percent,” while relying on “brute force: repression, torture, imprisonment, surveillance, and so on” to govern the remainder.

Yet Dr. Matin’s analysis also resists purely repression-centered explanations of authoritarian durability. Alongside state violence, he argues, regime survival is sustained by the organizational weakness and strategic incoherence of its opponents. “I would argue that, in addition to massive levels of violence, what sustains the regime is precisely the fractured nature of the opposition, its disorganization, and the absence of a political discourse that appeals equally to the main segments of society.” Even as protests broaden to include bazaar networks, students, workers, women, and peripheral provinces, the opposition—he contends—lacks the institutional capacity to translate mobilization into a viable transition project. “Apart from state violence,” he continues, “this lack of an organized alternative—ideologically, discursively, and organizationally—is a key factor keeping the regime in power.” The enduring strategic dilemma is therefore not simply the de-legitimation of the regime, but the absence of a credible successor: “Many people ask themselves, ‘What comes next?’”

Across the interview, Dr. Matin situates these dynamics within wider debates on revolutionary crises, hegemonic contestation, and regional geopolitics. He examines how economic shocks in a rentier political economy can rapidly become systemic political conflict; how coercion is deployed through targeted and exemplary violence; and how opposition plurality can both energize revolt and inhibit the formation of a unifying, “national-popular” project. Taken together, Dr. Matin’s intervention offers a stark but analytically precise assessment of Iran’s predicament: a regime increasingly dependent on coercion, confronting a society in revolt—yet facing an opposition still struggling to answer the question that shadows every revolutionary moment: what comes next?

Here is the edited transcript of our interview with Dr. Kamran Matin, slightly revised for clarity and flow.

In Iran, There Is No Sharp Distinction Between the Economic and the Political

Ruhollah Khomeini and Ayatollah Ali Hamaney on billboard in Tabriz, Iran on August 11, 2019.

Dr. Kamran Matin, thank you so much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Protests in Iran reportedly originated in a sharp currency shock on 28 December 2025 and rapidly escalated into explicitly anti-regime mobilization. Through what causal pathways do socio-economic dislocations in Iran—currency collapse, inflationary spirals, and distributive breakdown—translate into systemic political contestation rather than reformist grievance, and how does Iran’s specific configuration of state–market–religious authority condition this radicalization?

Dr. Kamran Matin: First of all, I would like to thank you for giving me this opportunity to discuss the protests in Iran. Your question is obviously very dense and contains multiple sub-questions. I will try to address them one by one, to the extent that I remember them.

In terms of economic grievances translating into political contestation, I think we have to bear in mind that Iran is still largely a rentier state. Therefore, like many rentier states—but also developmental states in general—there is hardly anything that is not political in essence. There is no sharp distinction between the economic and the political, because the economic accumulation of capitalists, or the work that the working class does for capitalists, in a country like Iran is ultimately not based—if I use the language of Marxist political economy—on surplus value in the sense we understand it in theory. Rather, profit is ultimately a redistribution of external rent by the state to various sections of society. As a result, the distribution of profit and wealth is politically determined, although not directly; it is mediated through multiple institutions and mechanisms.

In that sense, it is very easy in Iran for economic problems to become political issues. This has always been the case, even before the revolution, during the Shah period. Currently, however, this dynamic has intensified, because the combination of sanctions, the illicit economy, and the informal economy means that control over currency, in particular, is very tightly exercised. The government allocates foreign currency at different rates to different actors. There are cheaper rates from which large industrialists or merchants can benefit, but access to these requires proximity to the state or the government. So even economic competitiveness becomes a fundamentally political process. It is not economic in the straightforward sense that greater efficiency or lower production costs automatically generate higher profits. That logic has very limited purchase in a place like Iran.

Against this backdrop, it is not surprising that the protests began in the so-called bazaar and then very quickly turned into a popular, widespread political movement. However, we should also bear in mind that the bazaar, in the context of Iran—and to some extent perhaps even in Turkey—has somewhat different meanings and characteristics. Historically, the term bazaar referred to the large mercantile bourgeoisie involved in trade. But in recent decades, and probably even earlier, the bazaar has come to include different layers. For example, the current protests were not initiated by traditional, ideologically religious merchants as such, but by shopkeepers selling electronic goods. These goods are imported, especially from Asia—South Korea, Taiwan, Japan and elsewhere—and these traders were unable either to buy or to sell because the currency was in free fall. As a result, they initiated the protests. Because society as a whole was already suffering from high inflation, unemployment, and general economic insecurity, the wider population could easily identify with their grievances.

As for the second part of your question—about Iran’s specific configuration of state–market–religious authority and how it conditions this situation. The bazaar, particularly its traditional merchant class, has historically been very close to the ulama, or clerical class, through intermarriage and shared religious conservatism. At the same time, the security forces—the Revolutionary Guards (IRGC) and the Basij militia—have largely been recruited from the petty bourgeoisie, as well as from these social strata in different parts of Iran. There is therefore a close linkage among these elements. The government itself may be internally diverse, with competing factions, but in moments of crisis such as the current one, these factions tend to close ranks in order to weather the storm. The Supreme Leader plays a key role in maintaining a certain level of coherence within this system, though that is something we might discuss later.

Finally, there is, of course, the question of minorities, nationalities, and women—the gender dimension. In the last major wave of protests, the “Zan, Zendegi, Azadi,” or “Women, Life, Freedom” movement, women and subaltern nations were at the forefront, while large cities—especially in majority Persian-speaking regions—were comparatively quiet. This time, however, the pattern has been somewhat different. The protests began in Tehran and other major cities, while significant sections of Kurdistan remained relatively quiet, although some areas were highly active and bore the brunt of repression in the early days—places such as Ilam or Kermanshah. This difference also calls for explanation and is related to the way the previous protest wave was suppressed, as well as to the fragility and temporary nature of solidarity between the center—Persian speakers or Iranian nationalists more generally—and groups such as the Kurds, the Baluch, and the Arabs. 

I hope I have addressed your question, but I am sure that we will return to many of these issues again in subsequent questions.

Wider, More Popular, Yet Unorganized: The Limits of Expanding Protest Coalition

“Woman, life, freedom”: London protest draws thousands following the death of Mahsa Amini in police custody on January 10, 2022. Photo: Vehbi Koca.

If the current protest wave incorporates bazaar and merchant networks alongside students, workers, women, and peripheral provinces, how does this re-composition of class alliances alter the movement’s structural power, organizational density, and leverage vis-à-vis the state when compared to 2009, 2017–19, and 2022? In particular, does bazaar participation reintroduce a historically decisive—but long dormant—node of revolutionary capacity?

Dr. Kamran Matin: The fact that the bazaar was involved is significant, because in the previous protests you mentioned there was always this notion that the so-called gray area of the Iranian population was not participating. By this gray area, people meant those who were unhappy or dissatisfied but not willing to go to the streets, protest, and risk their lives. This time around, that changed, because we saw participation not only in big cities but also in small ones. There were a large number of casualties in places whose names I had never even heard before—very small towns in distant provinces like Khorasan in the northeast, near Afghanistan—where historically we have seen very little in the way of radical protest against the regime. 

So, I think this time the protests were wider and more popular, with the partial exception of Kurdistan, which again has to do with the way Iranian nationalism operates. Opposition forces often fail to acknowledge Kurdish grievances as such, and not only that: by accusing Kurds of separatism and of being foreign agents, they actually—albeit indirectly—help the Iranian state repress them even more brutally. As a result, people were very afraid of much harsher repression in Kurdish areas, and some parts remained quiet, although, there were many protests in other regions.

Another important point is the significance of the Green Movement in 2009. Just to clarify, in case readers do not remember, it was triggered by a disputed election in which Ahmadinejad was declared the winner, even though Mousavi, the other candidate, contested the result, leading to large protests. That episode effectively resulted in the strategic marginalization of the so-called reformist faction within the Islamic Republic from the state apparatus and state power. This had incredibly important consequences for subsequent protests, because before 2009 the Islamic Republic was often able to remain flexible vis-à-vis popular mobilization. The reformist faction could articulate some of the grievances, allowing people to continue expressing their dissatisfaction through the electoral system by voting for reformist candidates. In this way, the Islamic Republic was able to absorb a great deal of social and political energy and was therefore not as fragile or brittle politically as it later became.

With the sidelining of the reformists, the state became more or less monolithic, dominated by what Western commentators often describe as hardliners or conservatives. Reformists did not disappear entirely, but they no longer wielded any significant power. At the same time, people lost faith in the reformist route to change. From that point onward, every new protest became more radical. Electoral participation dropped dramatically, even according to the state’s own statistics, which are themselves highly engineered and manipulated. Around 2017 or 2018, a famous slogan emerged: “Neither reformists nor conservatives—this is the end of the story.” In effect, people were saying that they no longer trusted either faction, which meant that they were now seeking radical change in the state itself. In their view, the Islamic Republic had to go.

In the most recent protests, we can also see that there was no reference to any possible alternatives within the establishment or the regime, and the slogans were overtly radical. Many of these slogans had appeared in previous protest waves as well, but from the limited footage I have seen, the key difference was the level of determination shown by protesters in confronting the security forces. They fought them in the streets and, in some cases, even chased them away. This is why, on the 8th or 9th of January, the regime deployed the IRGC. There are also many reports suggesting that the regime brought in militias from Iraq—the Shi‘a militias of the PMU, or Hashd al-Shaabi—as well as other foreign elements of the so-called axis of resistance that it could mobilize. The idea was that, because they were foreigners, they would have no relatives or social ties that might restrain their actions.

So, the density was there, and the scale was there, but organization was not necessarily present—and that is something we may want to discuss further.

Why Repression, Not Legitimacy, Remains the Regime’s Decisive Pillar

Free Iran Protest in Toronto, Ontario: A large group of demonstrators marches south along Bay Street. Photo: Cameron Ballantyne Smith.

In assessing whether the Mullah regime is approaching a decisive rupture, which indicators matter most analytically: elite fissures within the clerical–security nexus, defections or hesitation within coercive institutions, breakdowns in fiscal extraction and strike coordination, or erosion of regime legitimacy within religious networks? How should these signals be weighted relative to one another?

Dr. Kamran Matin: Almost all of these signals are present in some form, but at least since 2009—going back to that critical moment—the Iranian state, the Islamic Republic, has ruled primarily through coercion rather than consent. It still retains the support of a small segment of Iranian society—perhaps 10 to 15 percent at most, and maybe closer to 10 percent. For the rest, it relies on brute force: repression, torture, imprisonment, surveillance, and so on.

If I use Gramscian language, there were periods when a form of hegemonic governance existed, combining coercion with consent. Consent was generated through elections—however engineered they may have been—but also through internal plurality and factional diversity. Reformists and hardliners coexisted, and people could choose one over the other. At the time, many Iranians used to say that they were choosing the “bad” over the “worse.” That option, however, was removed after 2009. From then on, there was effectively only the “very bad” to vote for.

All the other indicators you mention are also present: dire economic conditions, a deep crisis of regime legitimacy, a lack of future prospects, international isolation, and geopolitical weakening—especially since October 7 and developments affecting the so-called proxy forces in the region, the fall of Assad, and related events. Without sheer violence, the Islamic Republic would not be standing. We can see this clearly in the current round of protests as well. Millions of people took to the streets across Iran, in both small towns and large cities, and yet within two nights the regime killed so many people that it managed to force the population back into their homes.

I would say—and this is not just my view, but one shared by scholars of revolution—that it is not enough for a population simply to reject the way it is ruled for a revolution to succeed. For a revolution to succeed, the state must also be unable to repress in the way it has. As long as the repressive and security organs of the state are both willing and capable of suppressing protests, the regime is likely to survive. This is precisely what we have seen over at least the past ten years. So, I think this is the most important indicator.

An indirect confirmation of this can be seen in the way the 12-day war last summer paved the way for the current protests. Militarily, people saw that the Islamic Republic was unable to defend itself. A large number of the most senior commanders of the IRGC were killed on the first day, and the so-called axis of resistance forces disappeared from the political scene, at least temporarily. This created the impression that the state was far more fragile than before, which encouraged people—or gave them the courage—to act as they did this time.

On top of that, there was a statement by Trump, which initially emboldened the protesters. But we know what happened afterward: he changed his position, and the threat of intervention, at least for now, disappeared. This again demonstrates how vital the physical, coercive power of the state remains for keeping it intact and for sustaining the current elite in power. The moment it changes, the Islamic Republic will fall.

So, everything now really depends on whether the coherence of the security apparatus and the repressive organs of the state can be maintained in the period ahead.

Many Symbols, No Common Project

Building on your work on societal multiplicity and the nation’s Janus-like form, how should we interpret the coexistence of competing symbolic projects in the streets—monarchist iconography, republican imaginaries, feminist slogans, and multi-ethnic frames? Under conditions of uneven and combined development, does this plurality enable a Gramscian “national-popular” articulation, or does it risk fragmenting sovereignty claims in ways that invite external instrumentalization?

Dr. Kamran Matin: I cannot remember the exact words, but Lenin has this famous line that says revolution brings together the most extreme, diverse, and different forces into some sort of unplanned alliance against the status quo. So, it is not surprising that we see very different forces—ideologically, politically, and socially—on the streets. Like most revolutions, these protests in Iran are defined more by opposition to what exists than by a shared vision of the alternative that each actor seeks to establish.

Historically, it is in such contexts that an organized political party or movement can harness this massive social energy toward a particular political objective. This role was played in 1979 by Ayatollah Khomeini, a charismatic leader who was able, in some ways, to direct the revolutionary movement. He was vague enough to appeal to all sections of society, while at the same time being very clear in his opposition to the monarchy. This was central to how he built a hegemonic force, as he managed to present the particular interests of Islamists as the general interest of society as a whole. This, of course, ended once the revolution succeeded, when we saw how even Khomeini had to rely on massive violence to consolidate the post-revolutionary state.

At present, we have a great diversity of social and political forces and classes, but the opposition lacks two crucial things. First, it lacks organization on the ground—again, with the partial exception of Kurdistan, where Kurdish parties have a long history of organized politics. I am sure there are clandestine networks in Kurdish cities and elsewhere, but nothing comparable exists in the rest of Iran, for a variety of reasons. One key reason is that since the 1980s the Islamic Republic has invested almost everything in the physical destruction of the left: mass executions, imprisonment, forced exile, and, even in exile, hundreds of assassinations of dissidents and political leaders. Anyone who could potentially have played a leading role was eliminated.

As a result, we lack organization, we lack charismatic figures, and neither the left nor the liberals possess organic intellectuals in the Gramscian sense. A national-popular front or bloc, in Gramsci’s formulation, also requires organic intellectuals who can articulate a hegemonic project capable of uniting otherwise disparate sectors of the opposition. We do not have this, and in some respects we see the opposite dynamic at work.

Among monarchist forces gathered around the son of the former king, Reza Pahlavi, there is a strong unwillingness to engage in collaboration on an equal footing with other opposition forces. They seek dominance rather than partnership and claim a form of quasi-divine legitimacy. It is almost treated as the birthright of Reza Pahlavi to become the next monarch of Iran, or at least to lead a transitional period. As a result, meaningful cooperation with other parties or opposition groups becomes impossible. The so-called Georgetown alliance during the “Women, Life, Freedom” movement collapsed very quickly precisely for this reason, as he withdrew rather than accept equality with others.

Another major source of fragmentation within the opposition is the deployment of an exclusionary Iranian nationalism—by monarchists, by liberals in the opposition, and by the Islamic Republic itself. After the 12-day war, there was a sudden surge in nationalist symbolism: the promotion of Cyrus the Great, the erection of his statue in Tehran, and the revival of symbols of ancient Iran by the regime. The Islamic Republic understood that Islamist discourse could no longer mobilize society, but that nationalist appeals still might. At the same time, this further alienated the non-Persian peripheries of Iran, which in fact constitute more than half of the population: Azeri Turks, who make up roughly 20 to 25 percent; Kurds, around 10 to 15 percent; as well as Arabs, Baluch, Turkmens, Gilaks, and others.

Most of these groups are unwilling to contribute to the rise to power of forces that already seek to subordinate them politically and culturally. This denial of Iran’s internal diversity by large sections of the opposition creates a major barrier to forming a genuinely powerful nationwide opposition bloc. Each opposition group on its own is too small or too weak to overthrow the regime, yet the discourses they deploy and the strategies they pursue also prevent them from agreeing even on a minimal common program to confront the Islamic Republic.

I would argue that, in addition to massive levels of violence, what sustains the regime is precisely the fractured nature of the opposition, its disorganization, and the absence of a political discourse that appeals equally to the main segments of society. The Women, Life, Freedom slogan did manage to do this briefly. However, as I noted earlier, it was quickly undermined both by internal divisions within the opposition and by the regime itself. Within weeks, an alternative slogan emerged—“Man, Motherland, Development”—which is strikingly reminiscent of fascist slogans from Mussolini’s Italy. Woman, Life, Freedom versus Man, Motherland, Development. Until recently, Reza Pahlavi even displayed this slogan on his profile on X. I think the brief hegemonic role played by the Women, Life, Freedom slogan was significant, but it was actively undermined by substantial sections of the Iranian opposition. 

Necro-politics in Practice: How the Regime Governs Through Maiming, Fear, and Exemplary Violence

Pro-government demonstrators march in support of the regime after the weekly Friday Prayers on January 05, 2018 in Tehran.

Reports describe systematic maiming, mass casualties, and targeted injuries amid an intensifying crackdown under communication blackouts. How should we conceptualize this repertoire of violence—deterrence, exemplary punishment, strategic mutilation, or biopolitical terror—and what does comparative evidence suggest about its medium-term political effects on mobilization, radicalization, and regime cohesion?

Dr. Kamran Matin: The Islamic Republic has a very complex necro-politics. Even the treatment of the dead has a particular political economy. In addition to what you mentioned in the question, many people have been shot in the eyes. This is very deliberate, because the aim is for those who are injured to remain alive and visible, walking around in public, so that others see this as the fate of anyone who opposes the regime.

This is particularly striking because, in the past, the Islamic Republic sought to conceal its violence. Even now, it is only in recent years that there has been some acknowledgement that in 1988 around 3,000 to 5,000 political prisoners were executed. At the time, almost nobody knew; most Iranians were unaware because it was carried out entirely in secrecy. By contrast, today state media actually show the protests and even display bodies in morgues and other locations.

What is also remarkable is that when families of those who have been killed go to collect the bodies of their loved ones, they are required to pay for the bullets that were fired at them. For each bullet, they are reportedly asked to pay around seven million Iranian tomans, which at the current exchange rate is roughly $80 or so—I cannot recall the exact figure. In other words, families are literally required to pay for the bullet that killed their loved one in order to retrieve the body.

On top of that, there are reports that families are offered the option of signing a document stating that the person who was killed was a member of the Basij, the pro-government militia—thus turning them, quote-unquote, into a “martyr.” This allows the government to claim that large numbers of security forces were killed by terrorists allegedly backed by Israel, the US, and others. If families refuse, the bodies may be buried in unmarked graves, and the family may never know where their loved one is buried. In some cases, families are confronted with this choice in addition to the financial demand.

I should add, however, that demanding money for bullets or for the return of bodies is not new. This practice was widespread in the 1980s, especially in Kurdistan, but also in cases involving political prisoners who were executed or hanged in prisons. The Islamic Republic therefore deploys violence in a highly complex and sophisticated manner. It uses exemplary punishment to deter others from protesting and to instill fear across society. When people see injured individuals everywhere, or witness bodies being withheld, mishandled, buried anonymously, or simply disappearing, the psychological impact is deeply traumatizing.

In the short term, this strategy may work for the regime by frightening people into submission. In the longer term, however, it produces enormous anger and even hatred within society—among individuals, families, and communities. This accumulated resentment is likely to erupt again in future protest waves. Yet the Islamic Republic is almost built on periodic crises; in a sense, it thrives on them. Just before we began, I saw a pro-regime journalist or activist claiming that, thanks to God, these recent events have extended the life of the Islamic Republic by fifty years.

They feel that they have not only repressed the protests, but that the very fact of having done so successfully has given them a sense—not of legitimacy, but of unassailability. This, in turn, makes people think twice before participating in the next round of protests.

Why Iran’s Opposition Is Unprepared for Transition

During revolutionary moments, the question of political succession becomes decisive. How would you characterize the current opposition landscape in terms of organizational depth, ideological coherence, and governing capacity, and what risks emerge when maximalist anti-regime unity is not matched by institutional preparedness for transition?

Dr. Kamran Matin: The opposition has none of these: neither organizational depth, nor a clear plan, nor the human capacity to run post-regime governance in any meaningful way at the moment. The material elements are there, but they are not organized in any coherent way. Again, I would distinguish between the situation in Kurdistan and the rest of Iran, because there are important differences.

I could talk for hours about this, but briefly, there are organized Kurdish parties with bases very close to the border, and there is an organic connection with society. As we remember from 1979, the moment the Shah fell, the Kurdish regions became autonomous and self-governing because this organizational infrastructure was already in place. We see similar patterns in Rojava after 2011, or in Iraq after the 1991 Kuwait War. But in the rest of Iran, we do not have this, and I think this absence is absolutely crucial.

Apart from state violence, this lack of an organized alternative—ideologically, discursively, and organizationally—is a key factor keeping the regime in power. Many people ask themselves, “What comes next?” And this is precisely why many were reluctant to take to the streets in the past. One reason Reza Pahlavi’s name was chanted in some protests is that people believed he had a workable plan, although we later saw that he really did not. He called on people to go to the streets and suggested that help was on the way, echoing Trump’s rhetoric, and obviously nothing materialized. In fact, many people now blame him for a significant portion of the casualties in Iran. So, overall, the opposition is rather weak.

Trump’s Iran Rhetoric Aims at Behavioral Change, Not Regime Change

US Presidential candidate Donald Trump held a campaign rally at PPG Paints Arena in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania, on November 4, 2024. Photo: Chip Somodevilla.

US President Trump’s call for Iranians to “keep protesting” and his claim that “help is on its way” mark an unusually explicit rhetorical intervention. How do such statements reshape internal protest dynamics, regime threat perceptions, and escalation logics—and where do they sit on the spectrum between moral encouragement, strategic signaling, and coercive diplomacy?

Dr. Kamran Matin: I think for Trump all three are objectives—strategic signaling, coercive diplomacy, and moral encouragement. But ultimately, he is pursuing his own interests. And his primary interest is not regime change, but a change in the regime’s behavior. That is crucial, because it means that Trump may seek to instrumentalize the protests in order to extract a deal from the regime.

The problem is that Khamenei, the Supreme Leader, cannot make such a deal, because it would be perceived as a form of submission. Any agreement—at least one based on US conditions—would be seen as a defeat of the regime. And those conditions are unacceptable: no nuclear enrichment, no long-range missiles, and no proxy forces. These are core pillars of the Islamic Republic, so they simply cannot concede them. This means that even though US preference is for behavioral change rather than regime change as such—and this is clearly articulated in the US National Security Strategy released a few weeks ago, as well as reflected in recent US interventions, such as in Venezuela—this strategy has inherent limits.

Trump was hoping that internal pressure within Iran, combined with the threat of intervention, could be leveraged to secure a deal that would advance US objectives in the Middle East, open Iranian markets, and distance Iran from China, among other goals. This has not happened. And the United States does not appear to have a clear plan for what to do if a deal proves impossible. This is where US and Israeli positions diverge to some extent. For Israel, any attack would need to lead to a radical outcome; otherwise, it would incur the costs of Iranian retaliation without achieving a clear political objective. This helps explain the confusion over recent developments, including why Trump has not followed through on what he initially appeared to signal.

That said, revolutions have historically been aided—often indirectly and unintentionally—by foreign powers. The October Revolution succeeded in part because of World War I and the weakening of the Tsarist regime. The French Revolution was linked to a severe fiscal crisis driven by geopolitical rivalry with England. More broadly, many classical revolutions have occurred in the context of war and wider geopolitical crises. In this respect, Iran is not exceptional.

The key issue, however, is whether there is sufficient organization on the ground to take advantage of these geopolitical and inter-imperialist rivalries. Unfortunately, to a large extent, there is not.

Why Rojava’s Future Lies Beyond Counterterrorism

Turning to Syria, with Kurdish-held areas under renewed assault and the future of Rojava/AANES increasingly uncertain, what are the plausible political trajectories—forced integration, negotiated autonomy, territorial rollback, or renewed international guarantees—and which are structurally most likely given current regional alignments?

Dr. Kamran Matin: The current so-called transitional government is clearly no different in terms of what it wants to do with the Kurdish parts of the region in Syria, or with other minorities. We have seen what it has done to the Druze and the Alawites. The fact that it is not doing more, or has not been able to do so, is because there has been resistance against it. So, I would say the long-term aim of this government is to control the entirety of Rojava, while making some sort of symbolic concessions—such as the decree announced yesterday (January 16, 2026)  recognizing the Kurdish language to some extent—but without any constitutional guarantee of self-governance of the kind the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES) demands.

From what happened in Aleppo in recent weeks, we know that this followed very quickly after a meeting in Paris between Israel, the Syrian transitional government, and the United States; I believe Turkey was present as well. It seems there has been an agreement that areas under SDF or Rojava control should be limited to east of the Euphrates. At the moment, the SDF is being evacuated from other regions. Leaders of the Autonomous Administration might think this will become the natural border between their autonomous region and the rest of Syria, and that may be the case in the short term, but I am confident that pressure will continue and that the government will push for more.

The Syrian government is prepared to make every concession possible to Israel in order to prevent intervention and then, with the help of Turkey, to deal with the Autonomous Administration in a gradual manner. Initially, it was thought that the so-called resolution process in Turkey—including PKK disarmament and dissolution—was the price the Kurdish movement was paying to keep Rojava safe. But I think this assessment has changed. At first, the Turkish state was clearly worried about Israel attempting to recruit allies in the region, as well as about Iran and the possibility of Iran fragmenting. Over time, however, Turkey regained its momentum. Now it is using the so-called resolution process precisely to keep the PKK, or whatever it is now called, out of the Rojava scene, and in fact to use the absence of conflict with the PKK in order to concentrate its efforts on Rojava.

I have written about this in recent weeks and days, and I do not know how much the Rojava leadership reads or listens to external advice, but I think they should be very concerned. This process is not going to end. Pressure will advance step by step, and attempts will be made to retake territory incrementally. The Autonomous Administration must ensure that its relationship with the United States is not based solely on counterterrorism and ISIS. It needs to push for some form of political recognition and for a decentralized or federal system. Otherwise, renewed conflict between the two sides is inevitable.

Regional Powers Prefer a Weakened Iran to a Collapsing One

Iran-Map

How do regional power calculations—the Erdogan regime’s anti-Kurdish security doctrine, Damascus’s centralization drive, Russia’s brokerage role, and US/Gulf/Israeli threat perceptions—intersect with Iran’s internal crisis, and what implications does each Iranian outcome (hardening, fragmentation, or transition) carry for the fate of Rojava?

Dr. Kamran Matin: This is a very complex question. In terms of existing states—not just Turkey, but also the transitional government in Syria—they are ultimately driven by a vision of a centralized, unified, and homogeneous state. In societies characterized by a multiplicity of peoples, this model clearly does not work except through violence. And violence begets violence, which is precisely what we have witnessed over the past hundred years.

In that sense, any event or process that leads to de facto decentralization of power in these states—for example, what happened in Iraq in 2003—is viewed as a major threat. Turkey still regrets having allowed the KRG to emerge in the first place, and it now harbors similar concerns regarding Iran. As a result, Turkey—which is ostensibly a regional competitor of Iran—is now openly assisting the Islamic Republic. It opposes US intervention and provides intelligence against Kurdish armed forces, because it believes that the moment the Iranian state weakens, another Kurdish entity could emerge. Such a development would have direct implications for the Kurdish question within Turkey itself.

In this sense, the Kurdish question is a challenge for all these states, but at the same time it also constitutes the basis for their tactical cooperation—and even strategic alignment—at critical moments. If Iran were to weaken significantly, or if a situation similar to Syria in 2011–12 were to unfold there, this would pose a serious challenge for Turkey. At the same time, it is important to note that Iran has a large Azeri Turkish population. Some observers are concerned that Turkey might seek to instrumentalize this segment of Iranian society through Turkish nationalist sentiments in order to establish a foothold in northwestern Iran. There is also the question of Azerbaijan and whether the two might coordinate in such a scenario.

That said, from the perspective of regional states, the overall calculus appears to be that a weakened Islamic Republic is preferable to one that collapses entirely. This helps explain why Arab states, too, have urged the United States not to attack Iran. A breakdown of central authority and a deeply unstable Iran are outcomes that alarm everyone. At the same time, while many regional actors are hostile to the Islamic Republic, they also do not want to see an unmanaged, uncontrolled, and unplanned collapse of the Iranian state. As a result, they are actively seeking to prevent such an outcome.

Protest against ICE following the killing of Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old Minneapolis woman fatally shot by a US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent during a federal operation, in Foley Square, Manhattan, NYC, USA on January 8, 2026. The fatal encounter has sparked national outrage and protests demanding accountability and reform of ICE use-of-force policies. Photo: Dreamstime.

Virtual Workshop Series — Session 9: Populism, Crime, and the Politics of Exclusion

On January 8, 2026, ECPS convened Session 9 of its Virtual Workshop Series, titled “Populism, Crime, and the Politics of Exclusion.” The session was chaired and moderated by Dr. Helen L. Murphey, who framed exclusionary populism as a dual process that claims to empower an “authentic people” while simultaneously criminalizing stigmatized “others.” Assoc. Prof. Christopher N. Magno introduced the concept of criminal populism, showing how legal scandal and criminality can be transformed into political capital in the United States and the Philippines. Dr. Russell Foster examined how Austria’s FPÖ and France’s Rassemblement National legitimate anti-migration agendas through securitization and Gramscian metapolitics. Saga Oskarson Kindstrand drew on ethnographic research on the Sweden Democrats to challenge assumptions that populism undermines party organization. Discussants Hannah Geddes and Vlad Surdea-Hernea provided incisive reflections on theory, methodology, and democratic implications.

Reported by ECPS Staff

On Thursday, January 8, 2026, the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS) convened Session 9 of its Virtual Workshop Series, titled “We, the People” and the Future of Democracy: Interdisciplinary Approaches. Held under the session theme “Populism, Crime, and the Politics of Exclusion,” the session brought together an interdisciplinary group of scholars to explore how populist actors mobilize crime, security, and moral threat to redefine political belonging—deciding who counts as “the people,” who is constructed as a dangerous “other,” and how these distinctions increasingly enter mainstream politics.

The workshop opened with welcoming and technical remarks by ECPS intern Stella Schade, who introduced the session’s structure, speakers, and discussants on behalf of ECPS, situating the event within the Center’s broader commitment to comparative and theoretically grounded research on populism.

The session was chaired and moderated by Dr. Helen L. Murphey (Postdoctoral Scholar, Mershon Center for International Security Studies, The Ohio State University), whose introduction provided the session’s conceptual frame. Dr. Murphey emphasized that exclusionary populism operates through a dual logic: empowering an “authentic people” while simultaneously stigmatizing “others” as criminal, threatening, or disorderly. She highlighted how populists present themselves as reluctant political actors pushed into action by crisis and elite failure, while claiming exclusive authority over law and order. Importantly, she noted that these narratives are no longer confined to populist outsiders but increasingly circulate within mainstream party competition. Her framing raised core questions about the evolution of exclusionary discourse, its entanglement with crime and popular culture, and its implications for democratic norms and party organization.

Dr. Christopher N. Magno, who is an Associate Professor in the Department of Justice Studies and Human Services at Gannon University, presented “From Crime Shows to Power: The Rise of Criminal Populism,” introducing criminal populism as a framework for understanding how leaders transform criminality into political capital. Moving beyond penal populism, Dr. Magno showed how indictments and scandals are reframed as proof of authenticity and persecution, strengthening affective ties with supporters while eroding accountability. Drawing on cases from the United States and the Philippines, he demonstrated how criminal identity becomes a political asset.

Dr. Russell Foster, Senior Lecturer in British and International Politics at King’s College London, School of Politics & Economics, Department of European & International Studies, delivered “The Legitimization Process of the FPÖ’s and the NR’s Migration Policies,” examining how radical right parties in Austria and France mainstream anti-immigration positions through securitization and cultural adaptation. Using a Gramscian lens, he argued that migration is increasingly criminalized by being linked to anxieties over housing, welfare, and identity, while stressing that radical right trajectories vary across national contexts.

Saga Oskarson Kindstrand, PhD candidate at Centre for European Studies and Comparative Politics, Sciences Po, presented “Anti-Party to Mass Party? Lessons from the Radical Right’s Party Building Model,” challenging the assumption that populism rejects mediation. Based on ethnographic research on the Sweden Democrats, she argued that populist discourse can sustain dense party organization by moralizing membership, valorizing “ordinary people,” and cultivating urgency—re-legitimating the party as a representative vehicle.

The presentations were followed by engaged interventions from Hannah Geddes (PhD Candidate, University of St. Andrews) and Dr. Vlad Surdea-Hernea (Postdoctoral researcher at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences in Vienna). Their critiques highlighted shared strengths in challenging established assumptions while probing issues of novelty, case selection, class, and internal party power. Together, the session offered a cohesive examination of how populism reshapes crime, exclusion, and democratic representation.

Moderator Dr. Helen Murphey: The Adaptive Politics of Populist Exclusion

Dr. Helen L. Murphey is a Postdoctoral Scholar at Mershon Center for International Security Studies, The Ohio State University.

Dr. Helen Murphey opened Session 9 of the ECPS Virtual Workshop series by situating the panel within both a timely political moment and an evolving scholarly debate. Beginning with acknowledgements to ECPS, the presenters, and the audience, she framed the session—Populism, Crime, and the Politics of Exclusion—as an interdisciplinary conversation addressing one of the most pressing intersections in contemporary populism research.

From the outset, Dr. Murphey emphasized that exclusionary populism, the unifying focus of the three papers, is defined by a dual logic of empowerment and marginalization. While such movements claim to restore political voice to what they portray as the “authentic people,” they simultaneously construct stigmatized “others,” frequently associating these groups with crime, insecurity, and social disorder. Within this framework, exclusionary populists present themselves as the guardians of law, order, and security—values they argue have been abandoned by political elites and mainstream parties.

Dr. Murphey further highlighted a recurring feature of populist self-representation: the claim to reluctant political engagement. Populists, she noted, often depict themselves and their constituencies as driven into politics by crisis rather than ideology. Importantly, she observed that exclusionary narratives are no longer confined to overtly populist actors. Instead, themes of identity, securitization, and exclusion have increasingly migrated into the political mainstream, raising urgent analytical and normative questions.

Against this backdrop, Dr. Murphey outlined several core challenges for scholars. These included understanding how exclusionary populism evolves over time, how it becomes entangled with issues such as crime, security, and popular culture, and what consequences these developments hold for democratic norms and institutions. She also underscored the need to examine how populist claims to represent “the people” shape internal party structures and collective self-perceptions.

The session’s papers, Dr. Murphey argued, respond directly to these questions through diverse case studies, methodologies, and theoretical approaches. Together, they illuminate understudied dimensions of exclusionary populism, particularly its emotive, affective, and cultural dynamics. She stressed that exclusionary boundaries are often deliberately vague and malleable, allowing populist actors to recalibrate identities and grievances as they become embedded within formal political systems.

Concluding her remarks, Dr. Murphey invited participants to reflect on the democratic implications of these shifting contours of exclusion and passed the floor to the first presenter, signaling the start of a discussion aimed at deepening understanding of populism’s complex and adaptive nature.

 

Assoc. Prof. Christopher N. Magno: “From Crime Shows to Power: The Rise of Criminal Populism”

Christopher N. Magno is an Associate Professor, Department of Justice Studies and Human Services, Gannon University.

In his presentation titled “From Crime Shows to Power: The Rise of Criminal Populism,” Associate Professor Chris Magno of Gannon University offered a provocative and theoretically ambitious account of how crime has been transformed from a political liability into a powerful resource within contemporary populist politics. Drawing on more than two decades of comparative research on the Philippines and the United States, Assoc. Prof. Magno advanced the concept of criminal populism as a novel analytical framework for understanding the convergence of populism, spectacle, and criminality in democracies under strain.

Assoc. Prof. Magno began by situating his scholarly trajectory, noting that his doctoral research at Indiana University Bloomington examined crime as a form of political capital in the Philippines. Upon encountering the concept of penal populism—most notably developed by John Pratt—he initially understood it as a phenomenon largely confined to “crime warrior” politicians in liberal democracies. Penal populism, as Dr. Magno summarized, rests on punitive political agendas framed through wars on drugs, immigration, terrorism, and communism, all of which rely on the symbolic criminalization of racialized and marginalized “others.” This logic, he argued, reinforces a rigid division between a supposedly threatened, morally upright “people” and a dangerous, criminalized “them.”

However, Dr. Magno emphasized that this framework became insufficient to explain emerging political developments, particularly following the electoral success of Donald Trump. Trump’s rise, despite—or rather through—his extensive legal controversies, revealed a critical shift: criminality itself had become a political credential. What was once disqualifying was now openly embraced and weaponized. This realization prompted Dr. Magno’s ongoing book project with New York University Press, which conceptualizes criminal populism as a distinct political formation in which legal transgressions, indictments, and scandals are transformed into sources of legitimacy, authenticity, and mass mobilization.

At the core of Dr. Magno’s argument is the claim that contemporary populist leaders increasingly use criminal records and legal persecution as political assets. Rather than denying or concealing wrongdoing, criminal populists reframe themselves as victims of corrupt elites and politicized justice systems. Through this performative inversion, courts, arrests, and trials are converted into stages of political theater. Indictments become “badges of honor,” reaffirming outsider status and strengthening emotional bonds with disillusioned publics. Dr. Magno argued that this pattern is no longer exceptional but increasingly normalized across democratic systems.

Empirically, Dr. Magno illustrated this trend through comparative electoral data. In the United States, multiple candidates facing criminal investigations secured victories during the 2018 midterm elections, while Trump retained strong electoral viability amid multiple felony indictments. In the Philippines, the pattern was even more pronounced: a majority of candidates facing trials, investigations, or prior convictions won office in both the 2019 and 2025 elections. These developments, Dr. Magno argued, signal a broader transformation in democratic norms, where accountability no longer weakens political authority but may actively enhance it.

To systematize these dynamics, Dr. Magno introduced four ideal-typical categories of politicians who use crime as political capital. The first type, crime warrior politicians, derive legitimacy from aggressively positioning themselves as defenders of law and order. Importantly, Dr. Magno challenged the assumption that this model is exclusive to the political right, pointing to Bill Clinton as a key example. Clinton’s embrace of tough-on-crime rhetoric and legislation, Dr. Magno showed, coincided with rising incarceration rates—particularly among African Americans—even as crime rates declined. This illustrated how penal populism operates through fear amplification, crime propaganda, and the mobilization of state institutions to produce political popularity.

The second category, criminal politicians, consists of leaders who openly acknowledge their own criminal acts and convert them into claims of authenticity. Here, Dr. Magno highlighted Rodrigo Duterte, who repeatedly confessed to killing individuals and promised further extrajudicial violence as part of his war on drugs. Duterte’s electoral success, Dr. Magno argued, rested on his unapologetic embrace of criminality, which resonated with voters seeking decisive, transgressive leadership. Dr. Magno underscored that thousands of documented drug war killings—now under consideration by the International Criminal Court (ICC)—form part of this broader pattern of fascistic criminal governance.

The third type, political criminals, refers to figures whose acts of protest, rebellion, or resistance are criminalized by authoritarian or corrupt regimes. While Dr. Magno acknowledged historical examples such as Nelson Mandela and Martin Luther King Jr., his focus remained on the Philippine context, where dissidents and “coup leaders” have repeatedly transformed criminalized identities into electoral success. These actors, he argued, exploit state repression and the weaponization of law to build political legitimacy grounded in defiance.

The fourth and most extreme category, fascist criminal politicians, combines elements of crime warrior and criminal politician archetypes. These leaders both fight crime and commit it, openly violating legal norms in the name of order. Duterte again served as Dr. Magno’s paradigmatic case, as did Trump in the US context. Fascist criminal politicians, Dr. Magno argued, exceed constitutional limits, normalize extrajudicial violence, and blur the boundary between legality and criminality, thereby hollowing out democratic institutions from within.

Throughout the presentation, Dr. Magno emphasized that criminal populism operates through spectacle, emotion, and selective victimhood. Crime narratives overwhelmingly focus on street crime and marginalized populations, while elite crimes—such as corruption, environmental destruction, and corporate abuse—remain conspicuously absent. By exploiting public anxieties around crime, criminal populists redirect grievance away from structural inequalities and toward racialized or impoverished “others.”

In concluding, Dr. Magno stressed that criminal populism represents a profound challenge for democratic accountability and the rule of law. As criminality becomes normalized—and even celebrated—as political capital, the moral foundations of democratic legitimacy are fundamentally altered. His framework, grounded in long-term comparative research, offers scholars a critical lens for understanding how crime, populism, and power increasingly converge in contemporary political life.

 

Dr. Russell Foster: “The Legitimization Process of the FPÖ’s and the NR’s Migration Policies”

Dr. Russell Foster is a Senior Lecturer in British and International Politics at King’s College London, School of Politics & Economics, Department of European & International Studies.

In his presentation, Dr. Russell Foster (King’s College London) delivered an unsparing account of how radical-right actors in Europe have helped convert anti-immigration positions—from once-fringe commitments into increasingly mainstream political common sense. Dr. Foster framed the topic as “depressingly apt” for the opening of 2026, situating the discussion within an atmosphere of accelerating radical-right momentum across multiple democracies. The talk unfolded as both an analytical map of party evolution in Austria and France and a conceptual argument about how exclusionary politics gains legitimacy not only through party strategy, but through deeper shifts in political culture.

Dr. Foster began by crediting his co-author, Professor Murat Aktas, for extensive work on the paper, and then outlined the study’s two guiding angles. The first angle concerns variation: while the literature often treats the “European radical right” as a coherent phenomenon, Dr. Foster argued that cross-national similarities can be superficial. Beneath shared slogans and familiar tropes lie national, regional, and local differences that shape how exclusionary policies are narrated and why they resonate. The second angle concerns explanation: to understand why criminalizing narratives about migration become broadly accepted, the paper draws on a Gramscian lens of hegemony and metapolitics. This approach shifts attention away from a purely top-down reading of party manifestos and campaign rhetoric toward the cultural conditions and everyday anxieties that make certain claims feel plausible and politically actionable.

A key motif running through Dr. Foster’s remarks was the rejection of singularity. Just as his earlier work on Euroscepticism emphasized that there are “multiple Euroscepticisms,” he suggested there are likewise multiple radical-right narratives across Europe. These narratives do not operate as simple copies of one another, nor do they necessarily mirror developments in the United States or other global contexts. The implication is methodological as well as political: comparative scholarship must resist flattening diverse trajectories into a single model, especially when trying to explain “mainstreaming”—the process by which exclusionary frames seep into the broader political field.

To clarify what sort of “right” is under examination, Dr. Foster offered a three-part typology. First, the “old right” was described as traditional Burkean conservatism: authority, tradition, continuity, and a largely upper-middle-class politics of maintenance—an establishment conservatism he suggested is increasingly in retreat. Second, the “extreme right” was characterized as overt neo-Nazism—an imagery of violent subcultural extremism that persists but remains socially stigmatized. Third, and central to the paper, the “radical right” was presented as a hybrid formation—what he noted has been dubbed “hipster fascism”: a politics that borrows flexibly from across the ideological spectrum, including the center, segments of the left, and even environmental themes, while retaining an exclusionary core. This radical-right formation, in Dr. Foster’s telling, is defined less by crude nostalgia than by adaptability, presentation, and the strategic recalibration of stigma.

Within this conceptual frame, migration served as the primary policy domain through which Dr. Foster traced legitimization. He argued that the framing of immigration has shifted over time: from earlier narratives that treated immigration as a cultural or even “medicalized” threat (suggesting contamination or societal illness) toward a securitized and criminalized framing in which migration becomes a question of law, disorder, and public safety. This shift is not presented as a sudden invention of the 21st century, but rather as an intensification—an acceleration in the last two decades as radical-right parties have learned to link migration to broader anxieties over housing, employment, education, healthcare, and welfare. Migration, in this storyline, becomes a “master key” issue: a flexible explanatory device used to connect disparate social grievances into one coherent politics of blame.

The comparative heart of the talk focused on two parties: Austria’s Freedom Party (FPÖ) and France’s Rassemblement National (RN). Dr. Foster treated them as parallel case studies—both emerging in the postwar period, both marginal for decades, both rising sharply in the late 20th and early 21st centuries—yet he emphasized meaningful divergences in origins, strategy, and their relationship to governing power.

The FPÖ’s trajectory was presented as beginning nearer to the extreme-right pole. Founded in the mid-1950s after Allied withdrawal, the party was described as having been established by former National Socialist members, with its early leadership tied directly to the political structures of the Nazi era. Yet by the 1980s, Dr. Foster argued, internal shifts began to reposition the party toward respectability. The election of Norbert Steger in 1980 signaled an attempt at liberalization—an effort to appear more acceptable within democratic competition. That repositioning accelerated, paradoxically, with the rise of Jörg Haider in 1986, who pushed the party toward a sharper radical-right orientation and expanded anti-immigration messaging amid rising public anxieties. Dr. Foster described the 1990s as a further pivot point: as the Cold War ended, the party moved away from overt anti-communism and leaned more heavily into Euroscepticism and immigration. The critical marker of political breakthrough arrived in October 1999, when the FPÖ entered government in coalition with the Austrian People’s Party—an early European example of a radical-right party moving from protest to power.

Dr. Foster highlighted that, by the mid-2000s, the FPÖ’s anti-immigration rhetoric hardened again, especially under Heinz-Christian Strache, who intensified a discourse less rooted in older ethnic nationalism and more structured around a contemporary anti-immigrant logic. This repositioning proved politically advantageous as large-scale migration to Europe increased after the Arab Spring in 2011 and during the 2014–2016 migration crisis. Austria’s role as a transit country enabled the FPÖ to translate transnational events into national alarm. Dr. Foster stressed a recurring populist technique here: deliberate vagueness. By keeping categories of threat flexible, parties can “capitalize upon external events they did not cause,” retrofitting those events into an already-available narrative of invasion, insecurity, and criminality. Migration, in the FPÖ’s rhetoric, was reframed not simply as economic pressure or cultural change, but as Islamic threat—and, by extension, as a security and crime issue.

RN’s trajectory was presented as both comparable and distinct. Unlike the FPÖ’s immediate postwar origins, RN’s predecessor emerged in the 1970s, shaped by different historical sediments—anti-communism, antisemitism, and the aftershocks of imperial collapse. Under Jean-Marie Le Pen, it was positioned firmly within the idiom of the old extreme right. Yet, as with the FPÖ, Dr. Foster identified a major strategic shift from the late 1990s into the early 2000s, as the party began to pursue broader acceptability.

Where RN diverged, Dr. Foster argued, was in its relationship to governing responsibility. The FPÖ’s entry into coalition government created exposure: it had to bear consequences for policy and compromise, and it suffered popularity losses—before later recovery. RN, by contrast, had often gained influence without holding national executive power. This produced a distinct mode of mainstreaming: rather than governing directly, RN shaped the agenda indirectly by exerting pressure on mainstream parties, pushing them to adopt securitized, criminalized migration narratives. Dr. Foster characterized this as a metapolitical accomplishment: a capacity to move the boundaries of what can be said and proposed, even from opposition. He invoked the logic of “sniping from the sidelines,” where radical-right actors influence policy while evading the accountability costs of implementation.

Across both cases, Dr. Foster located a shared acceleration after major systemic shocks: the 2007–2008 global financial crisis, the migration crisis from 2014 onward, and—most sharply—the post-pandemic period. These moments, in his framing, expanded the “demand side” for exclusionary narratives. Economic insecurity, housing pressures, fraying trust in institutions, and general disillusionment with traditional politics created a receptive environment for frames that depict migration as the cause of scarcity and insecurity. The parties’ “supply side” strategy—softening overt extremism, abandoning some older tropes, and adopting a “veneer of civilization”—was presented as the enabling condition for legitimacy. But the deeper engine of mainstreaming was cultural: anxieties already present in society, which radical-right actors interpret, amplify, and bind into a coherent story.

Gramsci’s metapolitics served as the theoretical hinge connecting these observations. Dr. Foster treated the radical right less as the creator of public anxiety than as a highly skilled reader of it—an actor adept at sensing “where the wind is blowing socially” and attaching grievances to a politics of exclusion. This is where transnational movements and digital communication enter the account: social media, he argued, has made metapolitics easier by enabling the circulation of narratives, images, and everyday performances of relatability. He pointed to RN’s “de-demonization” efforts and the cultivation of ordinary, lifestyle-based authenticity—politics staged as casual normality rather than elite ritual—as a key mechanism in making radical-right actors seem socially acceptable even as exclusionary policy content remains.

Dr. Foster closed by returning to two concluding claims. First, both parties demonstrate a broad shift from medicalization toward criminalization of immigration—recasting migrants less as cultural outsiders and more as threats to social order. Second, both parties illustrate an evolution from hard Euroscepticism toward what he termed “Euro-alternativeism”: not seeking exit from the European project, but seeking to reshape it into a fortress logic of securitization, sometimes articulated through “great replacement” imaginaries. Ending on what he called a “delightfully cheerful note,” Dr. Foster left the audience with a bleak but analytically precise picture: legitimization is not a single act but a process—built through national histories, cultural anxieties, strategic moderation of style, and the steady normalization of criminalized boundary-making as everyday political reason.

 

Saga Oskarson Kindstrand: “Anti-Party to Mass Party? Lessons from the Radical Right’s Party Building Model”

Saga Oskarson Kindstrand is a PhD candidate at Centre for European Studies and Comparative Politics, Sciences Po.

In her presentation, Saga Oskarson Kindstrand (Sciences Po) offered an analytically focused intervention into a familiar assumption in populism studies: that populist politics rejects mediation and therefore tends to weaken or bypass party organization. Drawing on ethnographic fieldwork with members of the Sweden Democrats, she proposed a more paradoxical reading. Rather than treating populism as the enemy of party-based linkage, her account suggested that populism can actively enable dense organizational ties—reviving, in certain respects, the relational grammar of the mass party.

Kindstrand opened by positioning the paper as an article-in-progress, shaped through multiple presentations as she refined its framing and contribution. Her starting point lay in the “older” literature on crisis of representation and party linkage—work that diagnoses how political parties attempt to sustain relationships with constituencies under altered social conditions. Within that debate, populism is often treated as either an endpoint of party decline or as a form of democracy that can function without parties. She pointed to formulations—such as Peter Mair’s notion of “populist democracy” as popular democracy without parties—as emblematic of a broader scholarly tendency to presume that populism seeks immediacy: direct, unmediated expression of “the people’s will” rather than representation through institutional intermediaries.

From this theoretical backdrop, Kindstrand sketched a synthetic map of how populism is commonly described across different schools. In an ideological register, populism is frequently opposed to constitutionalism: pluralism, minority rights, checks and balances, and procedural mediation are depicted as constraints on popular sovereignty. In a strategic register, populism is often associated with charismatic leadership and the circumvention of established party channels. In organizational accounts, populism appears as personalization, weak institutionalization, “anti-party” self-presentation, memberless structures, and publicity-driven linkages that privilege direct communication over internal deliberation. Across these literatures, she argued, distinct approaches converge on a shared conclusion: populism tends toward the rejection of mediation.

She then introduced the empirical puzzle that motivated her research. In recent years, a number of radical right populist parties in Europe have moved against this expectation by investing heavily in local organization: building branches and party offices, recruiting fee-paying members, and creating structured opportunities for activism and advancement. Some scholarship has even suggested these parties are “reviving the mass party.” This development, she noted, is puzzling not only because it appears to contradict the theoretical image of populism as anti-intermediary, but also because it defies a standard cost–benefit logic used in membership studies. Membership in stigmatized radical right parties can carry high social costs and limited career returns; yet membership has expanded nonetheless. The persistence of this pattern, she argued, signals that something beyond material incentives is sustaining attachment.

Against this backdrop, Kindstrand proposed a perspective shift: to understand contemporary radical right party-building, one must look at linkage—and crucially, from the viewpoint of members themselves. Her question was not merely whether these parties have organizations, but how they construct and sustain relational bonds with members and supporters, and how members perceive their own role in democratic representation. Do members believe in the party’s mediating power? Do they experience the party as a vehicle connecting “ordinary people” to decision-making, akin to classic mass-party imaginaries?

To answer these questions, Kindstrand presented findings from an ethnographic study conducted in Sweden with Sweden Democrat party members across different levels of engagement. Her research design combined interviews with participant observation of meetings and local activities, treating the party as a discursively constituted institution—one whose meaning and authority are continually produced through language, practices, and shared self-understandings. She briefly contextualized the Sweden Democrats as Sweden’s radical right party: long present as an organization since the 1980s, but relatively new as a parliamentary actor after entering the Riksdag in 2010, and widely discussed as having attracted segments of former Social Democratic and working-class support.

The presentation’s central claim was deliberately counterintuitive: the Sweden Democrats’ ability to cultivate mass-party-style linkage was not despite their populism, but because of it. Kindstrand organized this argument around three recurring themes that emerged in her fieldwork—each a familiar populist motif, but reinterpreted through the lens of party-based representation.

The first theme concerned representation through resemblance. Members repeatedly described the party as constituted by “ordinary Swedes,” an identity portrayed as self-evident yet rarely defined with precision. This vagueness, rather than weakening the category, appeared to strengthen its adhesive power: “ordinary” became an inclusive boundary marker for those who felt socially and politically unseen. Members articulated a belief that because the party was made up of ordinary people, it knew what ordinary people wanted. Political competence was grounded not in expertise or institutional experience, but in proximity to everyday life—being “close to life” and therefore able to “see the problems.” In this narrative, mainstream parties were represented as detached elites—physically and symbolically located in Stockholm, distant from the lived consequences of political decisions, especially on immigration. Populism’s anti-establishment stance thus operated as an epistemology: it claimed that social truth is accessible primarily through lived experience, and that ordinaryness is itself a credential.

Within this representational frame, Kindstrand observed a notable moral grammar: the party was described less as a career ladder and more as a citizen duty. Members frequently rejected careerism, portraying involvement as an obligation to society rather than a self-development project. This moralization of participation aligned with the second theme: the centrality of formal membership. For her respondents, political engagement was not primarily defined as online activism, symbolic support, or loose affinity. The preferred—and valorized—form was formal membership: paying dues, attending meetings, doing paperwork, and participating in the internal rhythms of party life. Joining was narrated as an act of courage, precisely because it entailed stigma. Members spoke of losing friends, encountering hostility from relatives, and feeling threatened—especially those who had joined earlier, when social sanctions were reportedly stronger. Paradoxically, these costs intensified meaning rather than deterring engagement: stigma functioned as a purification mechanism that distinguished insiders from outsiders and reinforced loyalty.

Kindstrand suggested that exclusion from mainstream legitimacy did not only consolidate identity; it also shaped the form of participation. When open political identification carried risk, members became less reliant on visible online expressions and more dependent on in-person networks and local organizational spaces. In her telling, this dynamic inadvertently strengthened local party structures, creating a participatory ecology resembling older mass-party models. She gestured toward Duverger’s “bullseye” model of affiliation—layers of involvement and commitment radiating outward—as a better descriptor of what she observed than the flatter, looser organizational patterns often attributed to contemporary parties.

The third theme was efficacy: a strong belief in the party as a vehicle for change. Here, populism’s crisis narrative did substantial work. Members frequently described Sweden as being in decline and framed politics as urgent, even existential. Mainstream parties were cast as self-serving and unresponsive, and this perceived abandonment strengthened the conviction that only the Sweden Democrats could correct national trajectory. Members described their engagement in future-oriented moral terms—securing safety for children, protecting the country, and restoring order. These narratives produced an affective intensity that made membership meaningful even when individual influence seemed limited. A single member might not “make change,” but being a small part of a collective project was experienced as politically consequential.

In this sense, Kindstrand’s presentation reframed populist anti-establishment discourse as an engine of organizational reproduction. By narrating crisis, betrayal, and urgency, the party could present itself as a historically necessary instrument—echoing, in form if not in content, the early 20th-century mass party described by political scientists Richard S. Katz and Peter Mair as the vehicle through which underrepresented groups gained access to state power. The difference in Kindstrand’s account was that the Sweden Democrats’ linkage was not built on class-based identity in the classic sense. Although class references sometimes surfaced, “ordinary people” functioned as a more flexible identity—portable across occupational categories and capable of absorbing multiple grievances.

Across the presentation, Kindstrand revealed an underlying argument about populism’s relationship to mediation. While populist theory often equates populism with immediacy and hostility toward intermediaries, Kindstrand’s material suggested that populism can also re-sacralize the party as a mediator—so long as the party is imagined not as an elite institution but as an extension of “the people.” In that configuration, the party does not appear as a barrier between citizens and decision-making; it appears as the people’s own organizational body, an authentic conduit into the state. The party becomes legitimate precisely because it claims to negate the distinction between representatives and represented.

Kindstrand concluded by returning to the initial puzzle: why radical right populist parties can sometimes build membership organizations that mainstream parties struggle to sustain. Her findings suggested that the answer may lie less in incentives and more in meaning—specifically, in how populist narratives transform membership into moral duty, stigma into solidarity, and organizational routines into evidence of authenticity. In that sense, the Sweden Democrats’ organizational strength did not contradict populism’s representational claims; it operationalized them. Rather than dissolving party mediation, populism—under certain conditions—can rebuild it on the basis of resemblance, loyalty, and crisis-driven efficacy.

 

Discussants’ Feedback

Hannah Geddes

Hannah Geddes is a PhD Candidate at the University of St. Andrews.

In her role as discussant, Hannah Geddes (PhD Candidate, University of St. Andrews) offered a thoughtful and analytically generous set of reflections on the three papers, emphasizing their shared strength in challenging entrenched assumptions within populism research. Her feedback moved sequentially through the presentations, combining close engagement with constructive questions that opened space for further theoretical development.

Geddes began with Saga Oskarson Kindstrand’s paper, which she described as particularly compelling in its formulation of a clear and persuasive puzzle. She highlighted the strength of the paper’s core move: juxtaposing dominant expectations about populism—especially the assumption that populist politics is inherently immediate, anti-institutional, and resistant to party organization—with empirical evidence that complicates those claims. Geddes praised the way the paper reframed what appears, at first glance, as a contradiction into a productive analytical insight. Rather than presenting the findings as merely “filling a gap,” she noted, the paper demonstrated that the assumed contradiction between populism and party mediation may not exist in the way the literature presumes.

A central point of appreciation concerned Kindstrand’s constructivist and interpretivist approach. Geddes emphasized that treating parties as discursively constituted institutions was not a limitation but a key strength of the research. She suggested that this perspective allows the analysis to move beyond causal explanation toward a richer understanding of what parties mean to members, and how those meanings reshape assumptions about organization, representation, and linkage. In this respect, Geddes encouraged the author to lean more explicitly into this epistemological stance, arguing that the paper’s contribution lies precisely in unsettling dominant theoretical categories rather than establishing linear causal relationships.

Turning to the presentation on the Austrian Freedom Party (FPÖ) and France’s National Rally, Geddes expressed strong interest in the analysis of immigration and its linkage to broader social concerns. She noted that the discussion of how migration is connected to housing, welfare, and security anxieties was particularly illuminating. Drawing on her own context in Scotland, she raised questions about the demand side of radical-right politics—specifically whether economic grievances are the primary driver, or whether cultural and securitized frames take on autonomous force. She also queried how economic discontent becomes translated into cultural or criminal narratives, describing this transformation as one of the most intriguing aspects of the presentation.

Geddes further reflected on the argument that radical-right parties employ deliberate vagueness in their rhetoric. She questioned whether this vagueness should be understood as intentional strategic ambiguity or as a more structural feature of how such parties operate and adapt to shifting grievances. While not pressing for a definitive answer, she highlighted the analytical value of interrogating intention versus structure in explanations of mainstreaming and legitimation.

In her comments on Chris Magno’s presentation on criminal populism, Geddes again returned to the theme of challenging assumptions. She commended the paper for moving beyond the familiar figure of the “crime warrior” politician and for demonstrating how criminal identity itself can be transformed into political capital. Particularly striking to her was the idea that political actors can simultaneously embody both crime-fighting authority and criminal transgression—an apparent contradiction that the empirical material showed to be politically viable. Geddes posed a key question here: whether this duality represents a contradiction that politicians consciously exploit, or whether they have succeeded in fusing these identities into a coherent populist performance.

Finally, Geddes raised questions about the role of class across the presentations, especially in relation to crime and migration. While acknowledging the emphasis on race and immigration, she suggested that class dynamics—particularly their apparent reconfiguration or blurring—deserved further exploration, especially in European contexts where traditional class cleavages appear increasingly unsettled.

Concluding her remarks, Geddes praised all three presenters for clearly articulated puzzles, empirical richness, and a shared willingness to rethink core assumptions in the study of populism. Her feedback framed the session as a cohesive and intellectually stimulating exchange that advanced both theoretical and empirical debates.

Dr. Vlad Surdea-Hernea

Dr. Vlad Surdea-Hernea is a Postdoctoral researcher at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences in Vienna.

In his role as discussant at the session, Dr. Vlad Surdea-Hernea, a Postdoctoral Researcher at the University of Natural Resources and Life Sciences Vienna, offered a set of analytically probing and methodologically oriented reflections on the three papers. His feedback emphasized their shared ambition to unsettle established assumptions in populism research, while also pressing presenters to clarify conceptual scope, empirical grounding, and causal claims.

Dr. Surdea-Hernea began by endorsing Hannah Geddes’s earlier observation that all three papers were united by a willingness to challenge dominant frameworks. Turning first to Assoc. Prof. Chris Magno’s paper on criminal populism, he described the conceptual intervention as innovative and intellectually stimulating, particularly in its move beyond penal populism toward criminality as political capital. At the same time, he raised a historical question about novelty. Drawing attention to early twentieth-century precedents—such as socialist candidates in the United States who campaigned explicitly as convicted prisoners—he questioned whether criminal populism should be understood as an entirely new phenomenon or as a contemporary reconfiguration of a longer-standing strategy. He suggested that tracing such antecedents could strengthen the framework by clarifying what is genuinely novel and what represents continuity.

A second point concerned the relationship between theory and evidence. While praising the conceptual originality of the argument, Dr. Surdea-Hernea cautioned that some empirical illustrations risked appearing adjacent rather than integral to the theoretical claims. He encouraged a tighter integration, arguing that the empirical material should serve as the backbone of the conceptual innovation rather than as illustrative side notes. In his view, the project’s real potential lay not in assembling compelling anecdotes, but in advancing a coherent framework for understanding how crime, populism, and legitimacy intersect—one that could anchor broader debates.

Moving to the paper on the Freedom Party of Austria (FPÖ) and France’s National Rally (RN), Dr. Surdea-Hernea focused on comparative scope and framing. He questioned the logic of case selection by asking how the argument might travel to contexts where radical right parties have become mainstream despite the absence of large immigrant populations, such as parts of Eastern Europe. Exploring such “deviant cases,” he suggested, could illuminate whether the criminalization of migration operates similarly where migration is more imagined than experienced.

He also reflected on the paper’s discussion of responsiveness. While agreeing that radical right actors are adept at sensing social anxieties and adapting their messaging, he cautioned against formulations that might be misread as implying that responsiveness itself is normatively problematic. He encouraged clearer differentiation between democratic responsiveness and the strategic reframing of grievances through exclusionary narratives. Additionally, Dr. Surdea-Hernea suggested that the role of mainstream center-left and center-right parties during and after the 2014–2015 migration crisis deserved greater attention. Within a Gramscian framework, he argued, it would be valuable to clarify whether radical right narratives emerged “downstream of culture” or whether mainstream parties played a more constitutive role in shaping that culture through their responses to crisis.

In his comments on Saga Oskarson Kindstrand’s paper, Dr. Surdea-Hernea raised two interconnected questions. First, he queried whether populist parties that emphasize membership and internal participation actually grant members greater power in practice. If they do, he suggested, this would imply a genuinely distinct organizational form—one that may require rethinking what is meant by a “party” as an institutional vehicle. Second, he pointed to the empirical status of members’ claims. Assertions that populist parties are composed of “ordinary people,” he noted, are at least partially testable through demographic data on class, education, and age. Whether such claims are accurate or not would not undermine the argument, but each outcome would carry different theoretical implications—either confirming real organizational distinctiveness or revealing the power of belief and persuasion within party discourse.

Concluding, Dr. Surdea-Hernea emphasized that these questions were offered in a constructive spirit. Across all three papers, he saw strong foundations for further development and praised the session as a rich and engaging contribution to ongoing debates on populism, representation, and exclusion.

Questions from Participants

Chair Dr. Murphey opened the floor to audience participation by inviting collective reflection on the discussants’ feedback and the presenters’ arguments. She also highlighted a written comment from an audience member, Dr. Heidi Hart, who echoed Hannah Geddes’s earlier question to Chris Magno regarding the paradox of anti-crime rhetoric advanced by actors who themselves engage in or normalize criminality. Dr Hart noted the timeliness of this issue in light of a recent shooting of a US citizen in Minnesota and encouraged reflection on how such events intersect with the performative dimensions of Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) rhetoric and enforcement practices. Her intervention underscored how criminal populism operates not only discursively but also through real-time securitized performances by state actors.

Dr. Murphey then directed a question to Dr. Russell Foster concerning his typology of right-wing politics—distinguishing between the “old right,” the “extreme right,” and the contemporary radical right. While the old right was described as grounded in Burkean notions of tradition, she observed that today’s radical right also mobilizes appeals to “tradition,” albeit in reconfigured forms. Citing cultural battles over gender roles and family structures, Dr. Murphey asked whether this suggested a transformed, rather than abandoned, relationship to tradition—raising the possibility that tradition itself has become a more flexible and strategically redeployed resource within radical right politics.

Dr. Bulent Kenes followed with a question addressed to Saga Oskarson Kindstrand, drawing on his close observation of Swedish politics. He asked whether the organizational and discursive strategies identified among the Sweden Democrats were mirrored by mainstream parties, particularly in light of the Tidö Agreement, which has drawn center-right and even Social Democratic actors closer to radical right framings. Dr. Kenes queried whether similar narratives on criminality and migration were diffusing across the party system, suggesting a broader process of normalization and contagion beyond the populist radical right itself.

Responses by Presenters

Assoc. Prof. Chris Magno’s Response

In his response to the discussants’ feedback and audience questions, Assoc. Prof. Chris Magno offered clarifications that further situated his concept of criminal populism within a longer historical and comparative arc, while also addressing questions of class, identity, and apparent contradiction.

Dr. Magno began by engaging directly with Dr. Surdea-Hernea’s question regarding novelty. He agreed that the use of criminal identity as political capital is not a recent invention, stressing that his book project explicitly traces its roots to the colonial period. In the opening chapter, he examines how state power itself emerged through crime during the US colonization of the Philippines, arguing that many of the core elements of criminal populism—eugenics, racial othering, criminalization, propaganda, militarized policing, and surveillance—were forged in imperial contexts. He introduced the idea of a “colonial feedback loop,” whereby techniques developed in colonial governance later return to the metropole and are redeployed in contemporary democratic politics. This historical framing, he explained, is central to his comparative analysis of the Philippines and the United States, and challenges the assumption that criminal populism is a phenomenon confined to the Global South.

Responding to questions raised by Hannah Geddes on contradiction and class, Dr. Magno emphasized that criminal populists actively manipulate identities associated with poverty and marginalization. He illustrated this with examples from the United States, noting how Donald Trump transformed his mugshot into a fundraising and mobilizing tool, intentionally aligning his criminalized image with populations historically subjected to criminalization, particularly African Americans. Similarly, in the Philippines, Rodrigo Duterte maintained extraordinarily high approval ratings—including among lower-income groups—despite conducting a violent “war on drugs” that disproportionately targeted the poor.

Dr. Magno further extended this logic to Bill Clinton, observing that Clinton retained strong African American support even amid scandal, underscoring how representation often operates symbolically rather than materially. Across cases, he argued, criminal populism thrives on irony and contradiction: leaders claim to embody marginalized identities while simultaneously enacting policies that harm those very groups.

Concluding, Dr. Magno reiterated that while criminal populism has deep historical roots, it is in the present moment that it has crystallized into a distinct political formation—marking a shift away from traditional penal populism toward the strategic weaponization of criminality itself as a source of legitimacy and power.

Dr. Russell Foster’s Repsonse

In his response to the feedback and questions, Dr. Russell Foster offered a wide-ranging and clarifying reflection that reinforced the conceptual ambitions of his paper while acknowledging areas for further refinement. Speaking from a comparative and theoretically self-aware position, Dr. Foster addressed questions of typology, tradition, case selection, responsiveness, and intentionality in the politics of the radical right.

Beginning with Dr. Murphey’s question on typology and tradition, Dr. Foster emphasized that the distinction between the old right, extreme right, and radical right should not be understood as rigid or mutually exclusive. While the old right is often associated with Burkean appeals to tradition, he argued that both the old and radical right rely on what Eric Hobsbawm famously termed “invented traditions.” In this sense, the contemporary radical right does not abandon tradition but actively manufactures new ones. Dr. Foster illustrated this through the example of gender politics, noting the emergence of highly stylized and exaggerated gender roles—hyper-masculine men and submissive “trad wives”—that would have been largely absent from radical right discourse a decade or two ago. These narratives, he suggested, exemplify how tradition is strategically reconstructed rather than inherited.

Addressing Hannah Geddes’s and Dr. Surdea-Hernea’s questions on supply and demand, Dr. Foster stressed that radical right narratives only gain traction where there is an underlying social appetite for them. While such parties may supply exclusionary frames, these frames resonate because they align with existing anxieties. Economic grievances remain central, but they are often experienced indirectly—through housing insecurity, job precarity, limited educational opportunities, and broader political disillusionment. Foster also pointed to cultural fatigue, including backlash against what some perceive as “peak woke,” as another source of demand that the radical right is adept at exploiting.

On case selection, Dr. Foster explained that Austria and France were chosen precisely because they offer contrasting yet complementary trajectories: a large state where the radical right has not governed nationally and a smaller one where it has entered government twice and rebounded electorally after failure. Responding to questions about countries with limited immigration, he argued that similar patterns can be observed in places such as Poland, Hungary, and the United Kingdom. Here, digital media and transnational narratives allow radical right actors to mobilize fear and civilizational rhetoric even in the absence of direct exposure to migration.

Dr. Foster also clarified a potential misreading of the argument on responsiveness. He stressed that the paper does not condemn responsiveness per se; rather, it critiques the framing of grievances as existential and criminal threats. When migration is securitized and criminalized, he argued, legitimate policy debates can slide into exclusionary politics with severe real-world consequences, as illustrated by the UK’s “hostile environment” policies and the Windrush scandal.

Finally, on the question of whether radical right vagueness is deliberate, Dr. Foster acknowledged the epistemic limits of intent. While it may be impossible to prove conscious strategy, he suggested that vagueness functions politically by allowing adaptability. Whether intentional or structural, this ambiguity enables radical right actors to remain relevant across shifting contexts—an adaptability that, in his view, remains one of their most consequential strengths.

Saga Oskarson Kindstrand’s Response 

In her response to the feedback and questions, Saga Oskarson Kindstrand offered a focused clarification of her argument, addressing issues of intra-party power, social composition, and the broader diffusion of populist practices within Swedish politics. Her remarks reaffirmed the analytical intent of her study while drawing clear boundaries around what the article seeks—and does not seek—to explain.

Responding first to questions about whether populist radical right parties genuinely empower their members, Kindstrand emphasized that this varies across cases. In the Swedish context, she noted, the Sweden Democrats do not grant members greater internal influence than mainstream parties and, in some respects, offer even less internal democracy. This limited empowerment is, she argued, typical rather than anomalous. Importantly, she suggested that this does not weaken her argument; instead, it deepens the puzzle. Conventional theories would expect strong incentives—such as internal influence—to drive membership. Yet high levels of commitment persist despite centralized control, indicating that other mechanisms sustain organizational loyalty.

Kindstrand linked this centralization to stigma and exclusion. Because the party is subject to intense public scrutiny and reputational risk, tight control over messaging and behavior is framed as necessary. Granting extensive autonomy to local members is perceived as dangerous, particularly as the party has moved closer to governing power by supporting a coalition. As political influence increases, she observed, efforts to discipline the organization and manage public image intensify rather than recede.

Turning to questions about whether members’ claims of being “ordinary people” are empirically accurate, Kindstrand acknowledged the legitimacy of the concern. Existing studies, she noted, suggest that Sweden Democrat politicians tend to have lower levels of education and income prior to entering politics compared to representatives of other parties—patterns that may reflect both the party’s rapid growth and its outsider status. However, she stressed that adjudicating the truth of these claims is not the primary aim of her article. Instead, her focus lies on how such claims function discursively to sustain a particular organizational form and sense of belonging.

Finally, addressing the diffusion of populist rhetoric across the party system, Kindstrand agreed that mainstream parties in Sweden increasingly echo Sweden Democrat frames, particularly on migration and criminality. This agenda-setting role, she argued, powerfully reinforces members’ sense of efficacy. Observing other parties adopt their positions is interpreted internally as evidence that the party is reshaping politics—further strengthening organizational cohesion and belief in its transformative capacity.

Closing Remarks by Dr. Helen Murphey 

In her closing assessment, Dr. Helen Murphey offered a synthetic reflection that drew together the panel’s core themes while highlighting their broader implications for the study of populism, crime, and exclusion. Thanking the presenters, discussants, and audience, she characterized the session as both intellectually engaging and conceptually enriching, particularly in its collective contribution to understanding the exclusionary dynamics at the heart of contemporary populism.

Murphey identified the construction of identity—alongside practices of inclusion and exclusion—as a unifying thread across the presentations. Central to this, she argued, was the differentiated treatment of crime within exclusionary populist narratives. Drawing on Chris Magno’s intervention, she emphasized how certain forms of criminality are attributed vertically to elites—through discourses of corruption and “draining the swamp”—while other forms are attributed horizontally to marginalized groups, who are cast as threats to social order. At the same time, she noted the paradoxical tolerance, and even valorization, of particular transgressions when they are framed as necessary tools to challenge an unjust status quo. This selective moralization of crime, she suggested, resonates strongly with criminological insights into how illegality is socially coded and unevenly sanctioned.

Murphey further underscored the adaptability of exclusionary populism, highlighting how shifting circumstances allow movements to recalibrate narratives of crime, security, and grievance. This adaptability, she argued, plays a key role in the mainstreaming of exclusionary ideas. Building on insights from scholarship on diffusion, she pointed to how legitimate socio-economic grievances—such as austerity, housing shortages, and affordability crises—become linked to politics of exclusion, thereby creating pathways through which non-populist actors adopt populist frames.

Concluding, Murphey emphasized that the session’s discussions demonstrated not only the mutability of exclusionary populism but also its capacity to reshape broader political discourse. She thanked ECPS for convening the workshop and closed by passing the floor back to the organizers, marking the session as a fitting and reflective start to 2026.

Conclusion

Session 9 closed with a clear analytical takeaway: “crime” operates less as a neutral policy domain than as a political grammar through which exclusionary populism makes boundaries appear natural, urgent, and democratically defensible. Across the three papers, crime and security functioned as elastic categories—capable of being redirected toward elites (as corruption and betrayal), toward marginalized groups (as disorder and threat), and toward institutions themselves (as politicized justice). In this sense, the session illuminated how populism’s promise of protection is inseparable from its capacity to moralize inequality and translate social conflict into hierarchies of belonging.

The discussion also underscored that exclusionary politics is simultaneously discursive, organizational, and institutional. Dr. Magno’s framework emphasized how legal jeopardy can be recoded as authenticity and persecution, turning accountability mechanisms into stages of political spectacle. Dr. Foster’s comparative analysis showed how the securitization of migration becomes “common sense” through metapolitical work: linking everyday grievances—housing, welfare, jobs—to civilizational narratives that render exclusion as prudence. Kindstrand’s ethnographic findings, meanwhile, complicated the assumption that populism merely bypasses intermediaries. Instead, populist discourse can re-legitimate party organization by moralizing membership, intensifying solidarity under stigma, and narrating participation as civic duty.

The discussants sharpened the session’s implications for research design and theory-building. Questions about historical antecedents, case selection beyond high-immigration contexts, the role of mainstream parties in producing cultural “demand,” and the empirical status of members’ claims collectively highlighted a shared methodological challenge: how to distinguish novelty from recombination, strategy from structure, and perception from measurable social composition—without reducing populism to either elite manipulation or voter pathology.

With Dr. Helen Murphey’s moderation providing conceptual continuity, the session ultimately positioned exclusion as an adaptive political technology: strategically vague, emotionally resonant, and increasingly portable across arenas and actors. The broader conclusion for scholarship is that the politics of exclusion cannot be studied only through rhetoric or electoral outcomes. It requires tracing how moral categories of criminality circulate through institutions, organize collective identities, and normalize new thresholds of coercion—thereby reshaping democratic accountability from within.

Protest against ICE following the killing of Renee Nicole Good, a 37-year-old Minneapolis woman fatally shot by a US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agent during a federal operation, in Foley Square, Manhattan, NYC, USA on January 8, 2026. The fatal encounter has sparked national outrage and protests demanding accountability and reform of ICE use-of-force policies. Photo: Dreamstime.

Law, Order and the Lives in Between

In this Voice of Youth (VoY) article, Emmanouela Papapavlou delivers a powerful reflection on state violence, immigration enforcement, and the fragile boundaries of democratic accountability. The article critically examines the fatal shooting of a civilian woman by US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) agents in Minneapolis on January 7, 2026. Moving beyond official narratives of “self-defense,” Papapavlou situates the incident within broader patterns of institutional violence, racialized enforcement, and the erosion of human rights under the banner of security. By drawing historical parallels to the killing of George Floyd and interrogating the politics of “law and order,” the piece challenges readers to reconsider whose lives are protected—and whose are rendered expendable—in contemporary democracies.

By Emmanouela Papapavlou*

In a world where the concept of “security” weighs increasingly heavily on public policy, the use of state violence remains one of the most contentious and polarizing issues. In recent days, news that an agent of the US Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) shot and killed a 37 year-old woman in Minneapolis has reignited the debate over the limits of state power, institutional impunity, and human rights in one of the world’s most developed democracies.

The incident took place on January 7, 2026, during a large-scale operation aimed at enforcing immigration law in the city. Official statements from government authorities described the shooting as an act of self-defense, claiming that the woman attempted to “strike officers” with her vehicle. At the same time, however, video footage and eyewitness accounts contradict this version of events, suggesting that the gunshot was fired as the driver was attempting to leave the scene, without an evident and immediate threat to the officers’ lives.

The government’s effort to justify the action, even employing language such as “domestic terrorism operation,” has sparked outrage and skepticism among local officials, human rights organizations, and ordinary citizens. The mayor of Minneapolis openly stated that the self-defense arguments were “false” and called for ICE to withdraw from the city altogether. Many have described the killing as a clear example of excessive use of force by state authorities, particularly within the context of a large enforcement mission that disproportionately targets vulnerable communities.

But can this case truly be treated as an isolated incident? Or does it represent yet another link in a growing chain of violent encounters that follow a disturbingly familiar pattern? The Minneapolis killing is already being described as at least the fifth fatal outcome of similar federal operations over the past two years, suggesting that law enforcement strategy has evolved into an aggressive and dangerous form of violence, often exercised without meaningful accountability or transparency.

Social scientists and activists point out that the use of force by state authorities, whether in immigration enforcement or neighborhood policing, frequently activates deeper structures of social inequality. When the rhetoric of “law and order” is prioritized over human safety, trust between state institutions and the communities they serve erodes rapidly. And this raises a fundamental question: is the principle of “legality” applied equally to everyone, or is it selectively deployed as a tool of control and discipline over specific social groups?

This case cannot be examined outside its broader historical context. In 2020, in the same city of Minneapolis, George Floyd was killed as a police officer pressed a knee into his neck, turning a routine arrest into a public execution witnessed by the world. That moment became a global symbol of systemic police violence and racial injustice, igniting mass protests and exposing how deeply embedded power, race, and state violence are within modern societies.

And yet, how much has truly changed since then? Even today, the way state violence is addressed, whether through policing or immigration enforcement, continues to be shaped by the same logic that transforms people into threats and human lives into acceptable risks. The stories of those killed become symbols not only of injustice, but of a persistent institutional indifference toward the protection of life and dignity.

The Minneapolis case therefore serves as a reminder that violence exercised by institutions is not merely a “tragic mistake” or an “unfortunate exception.” It is part of a broader relationship between power and vulnerability that tests the very foundations of democracy and human rights. And just as in the aftermath of George Floyd’s killing, a new generation is once again refusing to accept narratives that normalize violence in the name of security. A generation that insists on asking the same uncomfortable question: what does security really mean, when preserving it requires the loss of human life?


 

(*) Emmanouela Papapavlou is a high school student from Thessaloniki, Greece, deeply passionate about social and political issues. She has actively participated in Model United Nations and other youth forums, serving as a chairperson in multiple conferences and winning awards in Greek debate competitions. Writing is her greatest passion, and she loves using it to explore democracy, civic engagement, and human rights. Her dream is to share her ideas, inspire action, and amplify the voices of young people who want to make a difference. Email: emmanpapapavlou@gmail.com

Photo: Julia Sudnitskaya.

Dopamine Detox, Self-Discipline, and the Populist Moralization of Responsibility

This commentary interrogates the rising popularity of “dopamine detox” as a moralized response to digital overload and burnout, situating it within contemporary populist logics. Rather than challenging the political economy of platform capitalism, the discourse reframes structural problems of attention extraction, inequality, and exhaustion as failures of individual self-discipline. Drawing on political economy and cultural sociology, the piece argues that dopamine detox resonates with a depoliticized form of populism that governs through moral binaries—disciplined versus undisciplined—rather than through explicit elite–people antagonism. By transforming self-control into a civic and economic virtue, the trend normalizes inequality and obscures corporate and regulatory responsibility. Ultimately, the commentary shows how neoliberal self-help cultures intersect with populist moralization to shift blame downward while leaving platform power largely unchallenged.

By Zeynep Temel*

The term “dopamine detox” has emerged as a popular self-regulation trend across digital platforms, wellness cultures, and productivity discourses in the past few years. It is being promoted as a remedy for distraction, burnout, and declining focus; through practices such as abstaining from social media, minimizing pleasurable stimuli, reducing digital consumption such as screen time, and deliberately embracing “boring” routines. The concept promises mental clarity and renewed productivity through individual restraint on various different platform ranging from TikTok videos to self-help books and corporate wellness advice.

However, this trend goes beyond dopamine detox’s popular neuroscientific framing, as it effectively reflects a broader political and moral shift. This shift is visible in how attention, self-control, and responsibility are actively governed under contemporary capitalism. This commentary therefore argues that dopamine detox should be understood not merely as a lifestyle trend or productivity technique, but as a neoliberal moral project that resonates with contemporary populist narratives. The reason behind this is that dopamine detox, instead of challenging the structural conditions that produce distraction and exhaustion, places the responsibility onto individuals. This relocation transforms self-discipline into moral virtue while also depoliticizing systemic inequalities embedded in the digital attention economy.

From Neuroscience to Moral Narrative

The scientific language surrounding dopamine detox is often misleading. In essence, the neuroscientific definition of dopamine is more complex than it simply being a “pleasure chemical.” It is a neurotransmitter that is involved in motivation, learning, and reward prediction. In fact, work by Berridge & Robinson (1998) demonstrates that dopamine is more closely associated with “wanting” and incentive salience than with pleasure itself. Clinical interventions related to dopamine regulation are also typically reserved for neurological or psychiatric conditions, bearing little resemblance to the lifestyle practices promoted online as “dopamine detox.”

Several scholars and clinicians further emphasize that dopamine detox lacks empirical grounding as a medical or neuroscientific intervention. Psychiatrist Anna Lembke notes that while excessive stimulation can indeed shape habits and compulsive behaviors, the idea of “resetting” dopamine through short-term abstinence is mainly metaphorical than clinical (Lembke, 2021). 

However, the concept has gained remarkable cultural traction, and for a reason. As Eva Illouz (2007) argues, therapeutic language often migrates into everyday life not for being scientifically precise, but because it provides moral narratives of self-improvement and personal responsibility. In the case of “dopamine detox” therapeutic language functions to frame distraction as personal weakness, and to frame restraint as a signal of maturity, rationality, and self-mastery.

The Attention Economy and Individualized Responsibility

Political economy of digital platforms is also a crucial component of the rise of dopamine detox. Systemic extraction and monetization of attention are building blocks of contemporary platform capitalism. Similarly, social media platforms rely on algorithmic personalization, feedback loops, and continuous stimulation to maximize engagement and advertising revenue (Zuboff & Schwandt, 2019).

The way in which social media infrastructures shape user behavior is demonstrated in various empirical research. One of them is Zulli & Zulli’s (2020) work saying TikTok fosters “imitation publics” by encouraging users to replicate trends, sounds, and formats through algorithmic visibility incentives. Another one is Schellewald’s ethnographic research demonstrating how TikTok’s “For You” page structures everyday interaction by curating content flows that blur the boundary between personal expression platform-driven circulation (Schellewald, 2024). 

While these structural dynamics exist, dopamine detox discourse rarely questions platform design, corporate incentives or regulatory responsibility, and instead reframes overstimulation as a problem of individual excess (too much scrolling, too much pleasure, too little discipline). This shift echoes Michel Foucault’s description of neoliberal governmentality, in which individuals are encouraged to govern themselves according to market rationalities rather than asking for collective or institutional intervention (Foucault et al., 2010). The result is a paradoxical form of resistance that leaves the underlying economic model of attention extraction intact.

Moralized Productivity and Populist Resonance

Dopamine detox resonates with contemporary forms of populism not through electoral rhetoric or charismatic leadership, but through moralization. Because cultural and neoliberal variants of populism often operate by translating structural and economic problems into questions of individual virtue and responsibility, dopamine detox mirrors populist logics that divide subjects into “disciplined” and “undisciplined,” or the self-controlled and the irresponsible. In this sense, dopamine detox does not mobilize populism through the language of “the people” versus “the elite,” but through a moral distinction between the disciplined and the undisciplined. This type of populism governs through self-blame; thus dopamine detox discourse exemplifies a depoliticized, affective form of populist reasoning. 

This framework transforms self-control into an economic and moral virtue, and productivity into a character trait instead of output. As observed by Jonathan Crary, even rest and withdrawal are increasingly instrumentalized as strategies to enhance future productivity rather than as forms of genuine refusal (Crary, 2014). 

Dopamine detox fits neatly into this moral economy. High-dopamine activities such as social media usage, gaming, and entertainment are viewed as threats to cognitive capital and economic self-worth. By contrast, abstention is celebrated as common sense and self-discipline. This logic mirrors Weberian asceticism in a digital age-updated way, where self-denial signals moral legitimacy and economic rationality (Weber, 1930). 

Crucially, this moralization obscures inequality as the capacity to disengage from platforms, curate “low dopamine” lifestyles or embrace minimalist routines assumes material security. For precarious workers, freelancers, and gig-economy participants, constant connectivity is more of a condition of survival than that of choice. 

Affective Governance and the Politics of “Calm”

“Affective governance,” a term coined by Sara Ahmed (2024) signifying the circulation of emotions that attach moral value to certain ways of being is an important component of dopamine detox narrative. This affective hierarchy favors calm, controlled subjects whose lives fit white-collar work and middle-class wellness norms. 

Crucially, this hierarchy is not sustained only through discourse, but also through aesthetics. It is reproduced through carefully curated visual and lifestyle cues involving neutral color palettes, quiet mornings, and minimalist routines, thereby connecting dopamine detox to broader cultural trends such as “clean girl” aesthetics, soft productivity, and wellness minimalism. 

Depoliticization Through Self-Blame

What makes dopamine detox particularly significant is its depoliticizing effect. It normalizes exhaustion as a personal management issue rather than a political one by turning structural problems of attention extraction into individualized moral responsibility. This shift mirrors broader neoliberal-populist dynamics in which systemic failures ranging from labor precarity to digital surveillance are reframed as matters of individual choice and discipline.

In this regard, dopamine detox illustrates a subtle but powerful form of contemporary populist reasoning: one that governs through affect, morality, and self-blame; rather than focusing on regulating platforms, addressing corporate power or rethinking digital labor. 

Conclusion: Detox Without Transformation?

This commentary argues that dopamine detox should be understood not as a scientifically grounded intervention, but as a neoliberal and moralized response to platform-induced overstimulation. It claims to resist distraction and burnout by framing them as failures of individual discipline which ends up in reinforcing the very economic logics causing them.

The political question then, is not about whether individuals need to reduce screen time, but why attention economies remain largely unregulated while self-discipline is constantly promoted as the solution. Another question that arises is if dopamine detox risks becoming yet another form of self-blame -rather than transformation- in an economy designed to exhaust, unless the political economy of platforms is addressed.


 

(*) Zeynep Temel is a PhD candidate in International Political Economy at Marmara University, Istanbul, but currently based in Shanghai. Her research interests span inequality, platform capitalism, popular culture, and gender, with a regional focus on East Asia. She works on how economic and political structures shape everyday practices, identities, and moral expectations, particularly through attention, consumption, and labor under contemporary capitalism.


 

References

Ahmed, S. (2014). The cultural politics of emotion (2nd ed.). Edinburgh University Press.

Berridge, K. C. & Robinson, T. E. (1998). “What is the role of dopamine in reward? Hedonic impact, reward learning, or incentive salience?” Brain Research Reviews, 28(3), 309–369.
https://doi.org/10.1016/S0165-0173(98)00019-8

Crary, J. (2014). 24/7: Late capitalism and the ends of sleep. Verso.

Foucault, M.; Senellart, M.; Ewald, F.; Fontana, A.; Davidson, A.I. & Burchell, G.D. (2010). The birth of biopolitics. Lectures at the Collège de France, 1978-79.

Illouz, E. (2007). Cold intimacies: The making of emotional capitalism. Polity Press.

Lembke, A. (2021). Dopamine nation: Finding balance in the age of indulgence. Unabridged. Penguin Audio.

Müller, J. (2016). What Is Populism? Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press. https://doi.org/10.9783/9780812293784

Schellewald, A. (2024). “Discussing the role of TikTok sharing practices in everyday social life.” International Journal of Communication, 18, 909–926.

Weber, M. (1930). The Protestant ethic and the spirit of capitalism. Scribner/Simon & Schuster.

Zuboff, S. & Schwandt, K. (2019). The age of surveillance capitalism: The fight for a human future at the new frontier of power. PublicAffairs.

Zulli, D. & Zulli, D. J. (2020). “Extending the Internet meme: Conceptualizing technological mimesis and imitation publics on the TikTok platform.” New Media & Society, 24(8), 1872-1890. https://doi.org/10.1177/1461444820983603 (Original work published 2022)

Ferenc Gyurcsany at a meeting of European Social Democrats in the Willy Brandt House in Berlin on March 24, 2007.  Photo: Mark Waters.

Alcoholic Mobsters and Welfare Criminals: Xenophobia, Welfare Chauvinism and Populism in Gyurcsány Ferenc’s Facebook Posts on Ukrainian Citizens Prior to the War

Please cite as:
Andits, Petra. (2026). “Alcoholic Mobsters and Welfare Criminals: Xenophobia, Welfare Chauvinism and Populism in Gyurcsány Ferenc’s Facebook Posts on Ukrainian Citizens Prior to the War.” Journal of Populism Studies (JPS). January 5, 2026.
https://doi.org/10.55271/JPS000122



Abstract
This article examines how anti-Ukrainian sentiment was mobilized within Hungarian opposition politics prior to the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Focusing on Gyurcsány Ferenc’s 2018 parliamentary election campaign, it analyzes two widely circulated Facebook posts that portrayed Ukrainians as welfare abusers and criminal outsiders. The article demonstrates how xenophobia, welfare chauvinism, and populist political style were combined through visual and narrative strategies to generate moral panic. By situating these representations in relation to Gyurcsány’s post-2022 pro-Ukrainian positioning, the study shows how Ukraine-related narratives function as strategically redeployable political resources rather than stable ideological commitments.


By Petra Andits*

Since the Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022, the publication of academic articles, books, and policy briefs focusing on Ukraine has proliferated. In this paper, I discuss the campaign of Gyurcsány Ferenc, the most prominent figure of the Hungarian opposition in 2018, leading up to the 2018 parliamentary elections and I argue that anti-Ukrainian sentiment constituted a significant building block of the campaign. In particular, I examine two infamous Facebook posts on Ukrainians posted by the politician. I investigate how Ukrainians were perceived outside the Russian–Ukrainian context and analyze the historical, cultural, and political references that they evoked. Specifically, I shall investigate three elements of the campaign: xenophobia, welfare chauvinism, and, above all, populism.

The campaign was not only deeply xenophobic but also deployed well-worn welfare-chauvinistic criticisms against Ukrainian citizens: ‘Do you agree that Ukrainian citizens who have never paid pension contributions in Hungary should not be allowed to receive pensions in Hungary?’ Gyurcsány asks voters, having announced in 2018 at the enlarged inaugural meeting of the DK National Council that a petition to this effect would be launched. He stated that hordes of Ukrainians enter Hungary and illegally claim pensions and, subsequently, citizenship rights.

The campaign – and the Facebook posts, in particular – also echoed essentially populist undertones. Interestingly, to date, Gyurcsány’s populist rhetoric has gone entirely unexamined, highlighting a key shortcoming of populist research, whereby the heterogeneity in what may be categorized as ‘populist’ rhetoric is underexplored (Kovács et al., 2022). I argue that ‘populism’ can take various shapes and often operates in accordance with a place-based logic that does not necessarily echo official political discourses (ibid). The Facebook posts reveal a populist moral struggle in which the popular hero (Gyurcsány himself) defeats the devil (Ukrainian welfare criminals backed by Prime Minister Viktor Orbán), and features urgency, crisis, and simplistic solutions – well-known ingredients in populist rhetoric.

The Demokratikus Koalíció’s narrative about Ukrainian pension fraud began to surface near the end of the 2018 election campaign A particularly striking aspect of the campaign is its intentional merging of two wholly distinct issues: first, the planned citizenship rights for minority Hungarians in Ukraine and, second, the pension benefits that some Ukrainians receive from the Hungarian state. Around that time, Orbán was engaged in initial negotiations with the Ukrainian authorities concerning the question of whether dual citizenship should be granted to minority Hungarians. These negotiations were sensitive, given that Ukraine does not allow dual citizenship, and the alignment between Orbán and Russia’s Vladimir Putin further overshadowed the talks. Hungary also has a treaty with Ukraine, based on a 1963 intergovernmental agreement with the Soviet Union, according to which retired Ukrainian citizens who reside permanently in Hungary can apply to have their pensions paid there in Hungarian forints (HUF) (Caglar et al., 2011).

The Hungarian pension system does not simply convert their Ukrainian pensions into HUF but rather determines the amount on the basis of the beneficiary’s former employment using Hungarian mechanisms, as if they had worked in Hungary throughout their lives. This special pension entitlement is associated with residence and ostensibly has nothing to do with Hungarian citizenship,[i] given that any Ukrainian citizen with a permanent address in Hungary is eligible to receive it. Nevertheless, the opposition has intentionally blurred the two issue and incited an anti-Ukrainian hysteria.

In this paper, I have selected for analysis two consecutively published Facebook posts from the campaign in which Gyurcsány disseminated visual materials pertaining to Ukrainian migrants in Hungary. The first is a fact-finding video, entitled ‘In search of the 300,000 Ukrainian pensions’ and featuring Gyurcsány in the guise of a private detective[ii]; the other is a short educational cartoon.[iii] The posts sparked controversy and criticism both in Hungary and from Ukrainian officials, who accused Gyurcsány of spreading false information and promoting anti-Ukrainian sentiment in Hungary.[iv]The incident proved highly significant, as the first video became the second most-watched Hungarian political video of all time on social media,[v] surpassing, for instance, any video made by Orbán.

 


(*) Dr. Petra Andits is MSCA Seal of Excellence Fellow at the Free University of Bolzano where she leads a project on the emergence of sexual populism in Hungary in the context of migration. Petra is cultural anthropologist by training and holds a Ph.d. in Political and Social Inquiry from the Monash University in Melbourne, Australia. She was research fellow at various universities, among them Universidad Pompeu Fabra in Spain, Tel Aviv University, University of Granada, Ca’Foscari University in Italy as well as the Hungarian Academy of Sciences. She is also an experienced ethnographic and documentary film maker. Email: anditspetra@gmail.com; ORCID ID: 0000-0001-9448-7611

 

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Voters queue at a polling station in Sendra village near Beawar during the Panchayati Raj elections in India on September 28, 2020, held amid the COVID-19 pandemic, with turnout exceeding 83 percent in the first phase across 25 districts. Photo: Dreamstime.

Voting with Freebies: How Direct Welfare Benefits Reshape Electoral Behaviour in India

In this analytically rich commentary, ECPS Youth Group member Saurabh Raj examines how direct welfare delivery is transforming electoral politics in India. Focusing on the recent Bihar assembly election, Raj shows how visible and targeted benefits—especially cash transfers to women—have become a powerful political language shaping voter participation and choice. Conceptualising this shift as “freebie populism,” the article argues that welfare now operates not only as a developmental tool but as a mode of political mobilisation, mediated through digital infrastructures and personalised state–citizen encounters. While caste, religion, and ideology remain influential, Raj highlights the growing importance of the individual beneficiary as a new axis of political belonging. Situating Bihar within broader interstate patterns, the article raises critical questions about democratic accountability, political reasoning, and the future trajectory of Indian democracy.

By Saurabh Raj*

The recent Bihar state[1] assembly election provides a useful lens to examine how welfare-centred mobilisation is reshaping contemporary electoral politics in India. Bihar recorded its highest ever voter turnout at 66.9 percent. The gender pattern was even more striking. Women voted at 71.6 percent while men voted at 62.8 percent. In 130 of the 243 constituencies, more women than men participated. These are not small variations or one time anomalies. They represent a structural shift in who participates and who determines electoral outcomes (Basu 2021).

The pattern of results closely mirrors this shift. The incumbent governing coalition won 114 of the 130 seats where women led the turnout which is close to 88 percent of all such constituencies. This alignment coincided with the scale and timing of welfare measures that reached women directly, warranting closer analytical attention. A direct cash transfer equivalent to approximately USD 120 to over twelve million women shortly before the election was only one part of a wider package that included pension increases, electricity bill relief and higher payments for frontline workers. The opposition responded with guarantee booklets, registration drives and promises of future support, as well as cards distributed by Jan Suraj[2] that signalled an alternative welfare imagination. Welfare was not an accessory to the campaign. It was the central axis around which political mobilisation occurred.

This election therefore makes visible a broader phenomenon that has been unfolding across India. Welfare centred electoral strategies are transforming political communication, voter reasoning and the emotional structure of democratic belonging. The rise of freebie populism, a term used here to describe the combination of populist rhetoric with highly visible and personalised welfare delivery, marks a distinct shift in how the state is imagined and how voters evaluate political actors. The term “freebie populism” is used here as an analytic category rather than a normative judgement. It refers not to the undesirability of welfare provision but to a specific political logic in which competitive electoral incentives privilege immediacy, visibility, and personalisation of benefits. This logic differs from rights-based or institutionalised welfare regimes, where entitlements are routinised and less directly tied to electoral cycles. The distinction is important, as the argument advanced here concerns the mode of political mobilisation rather than the legitimacy of welfare itself. ​​

Methods Note

This commentary draws on publicly available data from the Election Commission of India (Election Commission of India, 2024), state budget documents, press releases, field reporting in Hindi and English media and academic literature on populism, welfare delivery and voting behaviour. Interpretive arguments build on comparative work on populism (Mudde, 2004; Mudde & Kaltwasser, 2017) and on scholarship that links welfare delivery to political participation (Khemani, 2022; Kruks Wisner, 2018). Additional reference is made to studies on gendered political engagement, digital welfare architecture and direct benefit transfer systems. The purpose of this article is analytical rather than predictive. It aims to situate the Bihar experience within a wider conceptual and empirical framework that illuminates the changing nature of electoral politics in India.

Classic Understandings of Populism

Cas Mudde defines populism as a thin centred ideology that imagines society as divided between “the pure people” and “the corrupt elite” and insists that politics must directly express the general will (Mudde, 2004). Because it is thin centred, it can attach itself to a range of ideological projects including right wing, left wing or regionally specific imaginations of welfare, nationalism and identity. Mudde and Kaltwasser note that populism becomes powerful when leaders present themselves as direct protectors of ordinary citizens and construct emotional and symbolic shortcuts that bypass institutions and complex policy debates (Mudde & Kaltwasser, 2017).

Comparative research from Latin America demonstrates how populist leaders frequently combine emotive rhetoric with selective welfare delivery to cultivate direct affiliation with the masses (Hawkins, 2010; Roberts, 2015). These transfers are not incidental. They are political instruments through which belonging is reinforced and legitimacy is sustained. In India, populism has historically relied on religious mobilisation, symbolic gestures, charismatic leadership or caste-based appeals. Material transfers existed but did not shape political identity in the pronounced way witnessed today.

The current moment therefore extends rather than replaces classic understandings of populism. It adds a strong material and bureaucratically mediated dimension that is deeply embedded in the digital public infrastructure of the state. This dimension is responsible for the heightened immediacy with which political commitment is experienced.

Conceptualising Freebie Populism

Freebie populism represents a contemporary variant of populist mobilisation in which the primary bridge between leaders and citizens is constructed through direct material transfers rather than symbolic or rhetorical appeals alone. It does not replace classic definitions of populism but operationalises the promise of protection and recognition by making it tangible through targeted benefits. Cash transfers, subsidised electricity, expanded pensions, and free travel serve as visible proof of political commitment. These benefits act as recurring reminders that the state, often personified through political leadership, acknowledges the immediate material needs of citizens. Three features distinguish freebie populism from broader welfare politics. 

Immediacy is central, as transfers are often timed close to elections and their effects are felt within household budgets almost immediately. Voters therefore perceive the state not as a distant bureaucracy but as a source of immediate relief. 

Visibility is another critical feature. Digital transfers generate SMS alerts and bank notifications, and these alerts themselves function as instruments of political communication, turning a routine bureaucratic act into a concrete political moment. 

Personalised recognition is a third characteristic. Scholars note that direct transfers create a strong sense of being acknowledged by the state, particularly among women who manage household finances (Khemani, 2022). This personalisation transforms welfare from a bureaucratic entitlement into a more intimate political relationship between the individual and the state. 

Freebie populism does not erase caste or religious identities, which remain significant in shaping expectations and voting behaviour (Jaffrelot, 2021). However, welfare delivered directly to individual bank accounts establishes a new axis of political belonging. A woman from the Yadav or Paswan community may continue to retain group-based preferences, but her voting choices are also influenced by whether the state has reached her personally. The digital architecture of Aadhaar-linked transfers deepens this individualisation, making the relationship between the voter and the state more immediate, measurable, and experientially reliable.

Bihar and the Emergence of the Individual Beneficiary

The Bihar election demonstrates the mechanics of freebie populism with unusual clarity because the scale of targeted transfers was unprecedented. The distribution of ten thousand rupees to more than one crore twenty lakh women created a widespread perception that the state was acknowledging their economic vulnerability. This was part of a larger environment that included electricity bill relief, increased pensions and higher remuneration for frontline workers. These measures were repeatedly communicated through public meetings, local level messaging and digital outreach, ensuring that beneficiaries associated them with the ruling leadership.

The opposition attempted to counter this by centring women in its own campaign. Guarantee booklets, self-registration drives and targeted promises sought to build an alternative welfare narrative. Jan Suraj’s cards, for instance, attempted to construct a future oriented welfare claim. Yet the immediacy of actual deposits seemed to carry greater weight than future promises. Voters were able to verify receipt of benefits in the most tangible sense.

Turnout and voting patterns align closely with this political strategy. Women led the turnout in 130 constituencies, and the incumbent governing coalition won 114 of these. The fact that this alignment occurred during a period of intense welfare messaging suggests the strong influence of direct benefits on electoral behaviour. The political message materialised not as an abstract claim but as a verified deposit received through a mobile phone alert. Politics was increasingly experienced through the position of the individual beneficiary.

This alignment does not imply that welfare purchases votes. Rather it indicates that welfare is functioning as a channel through which political recognition, credibility and responsiveness are evaluated. Voters appear to be rewarding the government for delivering measurable relief and penalising actors whose promises remain untested.

Shifting Political Behaviour

The Bihar data indicates that freebie populism is reshaping political behaviour in ways that build on and extend earlier research. Scholars have noted that low-income voters are highly strategic and responsive to welfare delivery, often making reasoned decisions based on evidence of state performance (Khemani, 2022; Kruks Wisner, 2018). The Bihar experience reinforces this insight and highlights three important dimensions of change. 

First, welfare is increasingly becoming the primary language of political recognition. Women voters demonstrated exceptionally high turnout and a strong preference alignment in constituencies where welfare delivery was both visible and recent, suggesting that direct transfers and other targeted benefits have emerged as key instruments through which citizens assess the state’s commitment. 

Second, citizenship itself is being experienced through the household economy. This does not reduce political engagement to a transactional exchange but instead reflects a new democratic imagination in which the state operates as a direct economic actor within the household. For many women, welfare programmes provide relief from domestic pressures, enhance financial independence, and support caregiving responsibilities, thereby strengthening political agency. At the same time, political reasoning is increasingly grounded in immediacy. 

Third, freebie populism shifts the focus from abstract or long term developmental claims toward the voter’s immediate lived experience. Citizens evaluate political actors on the credibility, timing, and scale of benefit delivery and the responsiveness they witness in practice. This approach does not indicate passivity; rather, it reflects active and informed political calculation based on tangible outcomes and personal experience (Chauchard, 2017). 

Taken together, these patterns suggest that political loyalty is increasingly shaped by repeated and recognisable acts of recognition rather than broad ideological or identity-based appeals, signalling a profound shift in how democratic engagement is conceptualised and practiced.

These patterns resonate with findings from other democracies where targeted welfare provision has become central to electoral competition, including parts of Latin America and Southeast Asia. In such contexts, welfare delivery increasingly functions as both policy and political communication, blurring the boundary between governance and mobilisation. The Indian case therefore contributes to a growing comparative literature on how material distribution reshapes democratic participation under conditions of economic precarity.

Patterns Beyond Bihar

The pattern observed in Bihar is not an isolated development but part of a broader transformation in electoral politics across multiple Indian states. Welfare centred strategies have become essential elements of political competition, and their design increasingly reflects the logic of freebie populism, where visible and immediate benefits shape political belonging and voter behaviour. Each state offers a slightly different model, yet all demonstrate the growing centrality of targeted welfare in shaping electoral outcomes.

Jharkhand provides a clear example of this shift. The state expanded support for low-income women through age linked educational transfers and targeted assistance schemes that reached households directly. These interventions were not presented merely as development initiatives but became central to political communication, especially in rural districts where economic insecurity remains acute. The emphasis on young women and first-generation learners created a perception that the state was intervening meaningfully in the life chances of vulnerable households. Political actors highlighted these measures during election campaigns, illustrating how welfare has become a key electoral asset.

Maharashtra further demonstrates the consolidation of welfare centred politics. The Ladki Bahin Scheme placed women at the centre of the electoral narrative by offering regular financial assistance and presenting the state as an active participant in household welfare. The scheme was supported by recognisable branding, sustained outreach and continuous communication that associated the ruling leadership with direct support for women. This combination of financial transfers and symbolic visibility strengthened the perception that welfare was both a right and a political commitment, reinforcing the link between beneficiaries and the state.

Telangana presents another version of this emerging trend. Successive governments have relied heavily on targeted welfare, particularly through agricultural support schemes, marriage assistance programmes and community specific initiatives. These policies created strong emotional and material incentives for distinct social groups and demonstrated that welfare could be used strategically to cultivate enduring political alliances. Welfare delivery in Telangana has become an essential component of electoral mobilisation rather than a supplementary tool and continues to play a decisive role in shaping partisan loyalty.

Tamil Nadu offers one of the longest running traditions of welfare linked mobilisation in India. The contemporary phase builds on earlier frameworks but introduces new elements such as free bus travel for women, expanded meal schemes, higher pensions and targeted relief for vulnerable households. Welfare delivery is deeply integrated into political identity and party narratives. Campaigns consistently highlight the immediacy and continuity of state support, reinforcing the idea that welfare programmes are expressions of political care rather than bureaucratic entitlements.

Across these states, welfare is framed not merely as development but as a direct political relationship. This relationship is mediated through digital systems that enable individual bank transfers, local mobilisation networks that translate policy into political communication, frontline workers who act as intermediaries between the state and beneficiaries and the emotional resonance generated when citizens experience state recognition in concrete and material form. Together, these elements show how freebie populism has become a national phenomenon shaping political participation and redefining the meaning of electoral competition.

However, important differences remain across states. In Tamil Nadu and other states, welfare programmes are embedded within long-standing party institutions and ideological narratives, reducing their electoral immediacy. In contrast, states such as Bihar and Jharkhand exhibit a more episodic and election-timed deployment of benefits, intensifying their political salience. These variations suggest that freebie populism operates most strongly where welfare delivery is newly individualised and weakly institutionalised.

Limits of Attribution and Scope of Argument

This article advances an interpretive rather than causal argument between welfare transfers and electoral outcomes. Voting behaviour is shaped by multiple overlapping factors, including caste alignments, candidate credibility, party organisation, and broader political narratives. The observed alignment between women-led turnout and electoral outcomes in Bihar should therefore be read as indicative rather than deterministic.

The argument advanced here is that welfare delivery has acquired heightened political salience under conditions of digital transfer, electoral competition, and economic precarity. Direct benefits function as signals of state responsiveness that voters incorporate into broader political reasoning. This does not imply political passivity or vote-buying; rather, it reflects strategic and experiential evaluation by citizens based on verifiable state action. Future research using booth-level data or longitudinal beneficiary tracking would allow for more precise estimation of causal effects.

Conclusion

Welfare centred mobilisation has become a central feature of contemporary electoral competition in India. The Bihar assembly election provides a useful illustration of how direct and visible welfare delivery is reshaping patterns of political participation by foregrounding the individual beneficiary as a significant site of democratic engagement. High female turnout and the alignment of women dominated constituencies with electoral outcomes underline the growing importance of welfare as a medium through which citizens experience and evaluate state responsiveness.

This shift does not indicate a decline in political reasoning or a reduction of citizenship to transactional exchange. Instead, it reflects a reorientation of democratic judgement in which voters increasingly rely on observable and verifiable state action to assess political credibility. Welfare delivery, mediated through digital and bureaucratic systems, functions not only as policy intervention but also as a communicative practice that signals recognition, reliability, and proximity between the state and citizens.

At the same time, the increasing centrality of welfare in electoral mobilisation raises important questions for democratic accountability. An emphasis on immediacy and visibility may encourage short term distributive competition at the expense of institutional consolidation and sustained policy debate. As electoral legitimacy becomes more closely tied to the timing and scale of benefits, political contestation risks narrowing to questions of delivery rather than deliberation.

The broader challenge for Indian democracy therefore lies not in the expansion of welfare itself but in the political logic through which welfare is mobilised. Understanding how welfare delivery reshapes political participation, voter reasoning, and experiences of citizenship is essential to assessing the evolving character of democratic practice in India. The Bihar case suggests that future electoral outcomes will increasingly be shaped by how convincingly the state makes itself present in the everyday lives of citizens, alongside enduring influences of identity, ideology, and organisation. Beyond India, the analysis highlights how welfare delivery can reconfigure democratic engagement in contexts where citizens encounter the state most directly through material transfers.


 

(*) Saurabh Raj is a core team member at the Indian School of Democracy and is associated with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). He has a decade of experience in Indian politics and elections.


 

References

Aiyar, Y., and Walton, M. (2015). “Rights, accountability and citizenship: Examining India’s social welfare architecture.” Accountability Initiative.

Basu, P. (2021). “Women and electoral participation in India: Changing patterns of turnout and political engagement.” Economic and Political Weekly, 56(12), 34 to 42.

Chauchard, S. (2017). Why representation matters: The meaning of ethnic quotas in rural India. Cambridge University Press.

Election Commission of India. (2024). State Assembly Election Data: Bihar.

Hawkins, K. A. (2010). Venezuela’s Chavismo and populism in comparative perspective. Cambridge University Press.

Jaffrelot, C. (2021). Modi’s India: Hindu nationalism and the rise of ethnic democracy. Princeton University Press.

Khemani, S. (2022). “Political economy of welfare delivery in India.” World Bank Research Observer, 37(2), 245 to 270.

Kruks Wisner, G. (2018). Claiming the state: Active citizenship and social welfare in rural India. Cambridge University Press.

Mudde, C. (2004). “The populist zeitgeist.” Government and Opposition, 39(4), 541 to 563.

Mudde, C., and Kaltwasser, C. R. (2017). Populism: A very short introduction. Oxford University Press.

Roberts, K. M. (2015). Changing course in Latin America: Party systems in the neoliberal era. Cambridge University Press.


Footnotes

[1] Bihar, one of India’s most populous and economically disadvantaged states, has historically exhibited lower levels of state capacity and social welfare penetration, making recent shifts in voter participation particularly significant.

[2] A recently formed political party in Bihar positioning itself around governance and welfare reform.

Turkish women took action on May 8, 2020 in Istanbul not to repeal the Istanbul Convention, which provides protection against domestic and male violence. Photo: Emre Orman.

Iran and Turkey through ‘The Golden Cage’ and ‘Contextual Gendered Racialization’ Lens: Populism, Law, Gender and Freedom

In this commentary, Dr. Hafza Girdap offers a compelling comparative analysis of populism, law, gender, and freedom across two authoritarian contexts. Bringing Shirin Ebadi’s “The Golden Cage” into dialogue with transnational feminist theory, Dr. Girdap examines how populist regimes in Iran and Turkey moralize “the people,” narrow citizenship, and weaponize law to discipline dissent—particularly women’s dissent. Drawing on her original framework of contextual gendered racialization, she shows how gender governance operates through both patriarchy and racialized belonging. The article foregrounds women’s resistance as a form of epistemic, legal, and care-centered praxis, redefining freedom not as order or security, but as memory, accountability, and collective struggle beyond the confines of the “golden cage.”

By Hafza Girdap

This piece offers a condensed commentary drawn from a broader, ongoing project of mine that seeks to trace a coherent trajectory bridging sociology, feminist theory, and human rights practice. Centering the experiences of racialized and marginalized women, my project examines how women actively reclaim voice, produce knowledge, and build solidarities across borders. By integrating scholarship with activism, it aims not only to interpret structures of oppression but also to intervene in them—amplifying marginalized women’s voices, reshaping public discourse, and contributing to justice-oriented social change at both local and global levels.

Within this framework, the article examines populism, gendered repression, and resistance in Iran and Turkey by bringing Shirin Ebadi’s The Golden Cage into dialogue with transnational feminist theory and my conceptual framework of contextual gendered racialization.

Across both cases, populism constructs a moralized vision of “the people,” narrows plural citizenship, and weaponizes law to discipline dissent, particularly women’s dissent. Read together, Iran and Turkey reveal a shared trajectory from revolutionary or reformist promise to authoritarian consolidation, where legality becomes an instrument of domination, intimacy is reorganized by fear, and women’s resistance redefines freedom not as comfort or order, but as accountability, memory, and collective care (Shabnam, 2016).

Populism and the Moral Community

In post-1979 Iran, Islamist populism intertwined anti-imperialism with religious moralism, deifying state power as the authentic voice of the ummah and framing dissent as moral deviance or foreign betrayal. Hardship, repression, and top-down governance are justified as ethical sacrifice, while sovereignty is equated with the regime itself (Qaderi et al., 2023; V for Human, 2025; Bottura, 2024).  

In Turkey, the populism of ruling Justice and Development Party (AKP) of President Recep Tayyip Erdogan evolved from counter-Kemalist majoritarianism into a religio-nationalist project that performs unity through slogans such as “one nation, one flag, one religion,” increasingly centralizing authority in the figure of the leader. While initially framed as democratizing, this project narrowed citizenship through moral conformity, loyalty, and cultural homogeneity (Yalvaç & Joseph, 2019; Yabancı, 2022). 

Ebadi’s metaphor of the golden cage” captures the populist bargain in both contexts: material security, national pride, and moral certainty are offered in exchange for silence. Belonging becomes conditional, and pluralism is redefined as threat. Populism thus does not merely mobilize “the people”; it redraws their boundaries.

From Rule of Law to Rule-by-Law

Ebadi’s central assertion, law without justice is violence,” resonates powerfully across both cases. In Iran, juridical language legitimates repression through moralized penalties, surveillance, and gender policing. Courts, decrees, and security forces recode dissent, especially women’s défiance, as disorder, immorality, or national betrayal. Following the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, intensified surveillance technologies and punitive legislation targeted women’s everyday presence in public space (V for Human, 2025, Makooi, 2025).

In Turkey, a shift from institutional reform to rule-by-law recalibrated the judiciary, media, and religious institutions to executive power. Gender governance became a central showcase of this transformation. The withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention via presidential decree exemplified how formal legality can be used to hollow out rights while projecting a moralized policy turn. In both contexts, legality masks authoritarian consolidation, transforming law into a technology of control rather than protection (Girdap, 2021; Sarac et al., 2023).

Family, Fear, and Everyday Life

The Golden Cage demonstrates how authoritarianism penetrates the most intimate spaces of life. Ebadi’s family narrative traces siblings forced into divergent ethical trajectories; revolutionary idealism punished by imprisonment or execution, loyalist complicity pursued for survival, exile chosen at the cost of belonging. Love and loyalty become calculations of risk under surveillance.

Ebadi’s family members function as ethical projections under coercion: the revolutionary idealist destroyed by the system, the loyalist navigating compromise at psychological cost, and the exile living with safety and loss. Ebadi herself stands as the ethical center, a jurist-witness insisting that memory is a civic duty and that law must be reclaimed for justice. Her feminism is not abstract; it is anchored in accountability, testimony, and refusal to forget.

Contemporary Turkey echoes this intimate violence. Employment bans, travel restrictions, stigmatization of dissidents, and criminalization of speech ripple through households. Families become sites of risk management; ordinary communication is shaped by caution. The political becomes domestic, and repression is lived not only through spectacular events but through everyday self-censorship and fractured trust.

Gender as the Authoritarian and Democratic Measure

Gender emerges as both the primary target of authoritarian control and the most sensitive measure of democratic erosion. In Iran, women led the Woman, Life, Freedom movement following the death of Mahsa (Jina) Amini. Despite lethal repression, mass arrests, and intensified surveillance, women’s everyday practices, particularly in urban spaces, signal irreversible shifts in presence, visibility, and refusal (European Parliament, 2022; Blout, 2025).

In Turkey, women’s citizenship is increasingly restricted into motherhood, family duty, and moral loyalty. Feminism and LGBTQI+ activism are framed as moral and foreign threats, while patriarchal governance is legitimated through religious and nationalist discourse. The Istanbul Convention withdrawal galvanized resistance, making gender a central site through which democratic backsliding and civic resilience are simultaneously revealed.

My framework of contextual gendered racialization sharpens this analysis by showing how Sunni Turkishness is privileged through an ethno-religious “Turkishness Contract,” producing double marginalization for Kurdish, Alevi, Armenian, and dissenting women. Gendered governance thus operates through both patriarchy and racialized belonging (Unlu, 2023).

Transnational Racialization and Migration

Racialization travels across borders. In Turkey, difference is marked through proximity to dominant Sunni Turkish identity rather than skin color; minority women are symbolically racialized as deviant or suspect. In the United States, Muslim women become hyper-visible within Islamophobic regimes of surveillance, legally white, socially brown (Aziz, 2020). Hijab, accent, and names trigger institutional scrutiny across immigration, healthcare, education, and labor.

Women respond through strategic identity management: negotiating visibility, silence, and speech; altering dress or disclosure; cultivating selective belonging. These practices constitute feminist praxis rather than mere adaptation, resisting both authoritarian repression and reductive Western feminist frames. Situated feminisms emerge from lived negotiation rather than abstraction (Girdap, 2025).

Law, Memory, and Care as Resistance

Across Iran and Turkey, women deploy diverse resistance strategies that transform opposition from episodic protest into durable institution-building. Ebadi’s ethic of defending rights even within captured institutions finds parallels in feminist lawfare and documentation practices in Turkey. Litigation, femicide databases, survivor testimonies, and non-enforcement audits preserve public memory and sustain accountability even when legal victories are limited. As national protections erode, opposition-led municipalities expand shelters, hotlines, training, and care infrastructures, producing constituent feminism beyond electoral cycles. Campaigns such as #İstanbulSözleşmesiYaşatır (#IstanbulConventionSavesLives) and recurring protests after femicides sustain public scrutiny and agenda pressure. Groups like Mor Dayanışma link gender violence to labor precarity, militarism, ethnic repression, and anti-LGBTQI+ moral panics, expanding coalitions and articulating care-centered, class-conscious feminist praxis (Mor Dayanışma, 2025; Najdi, 2025; Şeker & Sönmezocak, 2021).

Conclusion: Freedom Beyond the Golden Cage

Bringing Ebadi’s ethic of law, memory, and freedom together with a transnational feminist analysis clarifies the stakes of the Iran–Turkey comparison. In both contexts, populism narrows [established] citizenship into a moral community, and gender becomes the key nexus of belonging. Yet women’s epistemic and practical resistance, through legal advocacy, documentation, care spaces, migration, and transnational solidarity, takes a huge step to widen citizenship back into rights, pluralism, and accountability.

Freedom, in this sense, is not comfort or order. It is collective remembering, feminist institution-building, and sustained struggle against normalization. The golden cage is broken not by silence, but by women who insist on memory, justice, and shared political futures across borders.


 

References

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Blout, Emily. (2025, September 16). “Resisting Iran’s High-Tech War on Women Three Years After Mahsa Amini’s Death.” Stimsonhttps://www.stimson.org/2025/resisting-irans-high-tech-war-on-women-mahsa-amini/

Bottura, Beatrice. (2024). “Theocracy, Radicalism and Islamist/Secular Populism in Iran, Afghanistan & Tajikistan.”European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). October 18, 2024. https://doi.org/10.55271/rp0089

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Girdap, Hafza. (2021). “Right-wing populism, political Islam, and the Istanbul Convention.” European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). https://www.populismstudies.org/right-wing-populism-political-islam-and-the-istanbul-convention/

Girdap, H. (2025). “Racialization and Response Through Embodied Identification.” In: From a Shadow to a Person: A Gender Studies Assessment of Women in the Middle East, edited by Shilan Fuad Hussain, Routledge, manuscript in preparation.

Holliday, Shabnam J. (2016). “The legacy of subalternity and Gramsci’s national–popular: populist discourse in the case of the Islamic Republic of Iran.” Third World Quarterly, 37:5, 917-933, DOI: 10.1080/01436597.2015.1113872

Makooi, Bahar. (2025, September 9). “Three years after Mahsa Amini’s death, Iranian women have seized ‘irreversible’ liberties.” France 24https://www.france24.com/en/middle-east/20250916-three-years-after-mahsa-amini-death-iranian-women-have-seized-irreversible-liberties

Mor Dayanışma. (2025, February 11). “Women, Work, and War: Organizing and Resistance in Turkey – an Interview with Mor Dayanışma.” https://www.mordayanisma.org/2025/02/11/women-work-and-war-organizing-and-resistance-in-turkey-an-interview-with-mor-dayanisma/

Najdi, Youhanna. (2025, September 16). “Mahsa Amini: 3 years on, will Iran face fresh protests?” DW.https://www.dw.com/en/mahsa-amini-3-years-on-will-iran-face-fresh-protests/a-74000756

Qaderi, H.; Delavari, A. and Golmohammadi, A. (2023). “Populism and Politics in Iran after the Islamic Revolution: Content Analysis of Presidential Speeches from 1989 to 2017.” Political Strategic Studies12(44), 9-58. doi: 10.22054/qpss.2022.66333.3002

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Şeker, Berfu and Sönmezocak, Ezel Buse. (2021, June). “Withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention: War on Gender Equality in Turkey.” Freedom House. https://freedomhouse.org/sites/default/files/2021-06/06292021_Freedom_House_Turkey_Policy_Brief-2-Withdrawal-from-the-Istanbul-Convention.pdf

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Refugee children are helped ashore after arriving by boat from Turkey on the Greek island of Lesbos, capturing a moment where relief and suffering coexist. Photo: Aleksandr Lutsenko.

The Humanity of Migration

In this timely and powerful Voice of Youth (VoY) essay, Emmanouela Papapavlou reframes migration not as a crisis or threat, but as a defining human reality of the twenty-first century. Moving beyond populist slogans and fear-based rhetoric, the piece exposes the gap between political discourse and the lived experiences of migrants—marked by legal precarity, exclusion, and everyday vulnerability. It critically interrogates the selective use of “legality” in public debates and highlights how populism redirects anger away from power and toward the powerless. Importantly, the article identifies Generation Z as a potential counterforce, emphasizing its everyday engagement with diversity and its rejection of xenophobic narratives. Published on the occasion of International Migrants Day, the essay is a compelling call to restore dignity, humanity, and ethical responsibility to migration politics.

By Emmanouela Papapavlou*

In an age of global instability, migration is not an exception and not some marginal social phenomenon, it is a defining feature of the modern world. Wars, political persecution, economic collapse, environmental disasters and inequality push millions to leave their homes in search of safety, opportunity, and a sense of dignity. Within this reality, the 18th of December, International Migrants Day, is not just another “awareness day,” it is a powerful reminder that migration is one of the most central human experiences of the twenty-first century, and that the way we talk about it in public spaces has real consequences on real lives.

Despite its profoundly human dimension, migration has become one of the most polarized subjects in global politics. Populist rhetoric, flourishing across Europe, the United States, and beyond, finds in the “migrant” the perfect target, an “other” onto whom fears, insecurities, and imagined threats can be projected. Migrants are framed as a faceless mass, as an economic burden, as a cultural threat, or even as enemies of national security. Yet the reality of migration is dramatically different from these oversimplified narratives.

For millions, migration is not a choice, it is a necessity. And for those who manage to reach countries of arrival, the journey does not end, it begins. Access to legal documents, endless visa backlogs, the slow and often arbitrary asylum process, and the requirements for work authorization create a system that is frequently insurmountable. In the United States, for example, hundreds of thousands of people live for years without papers, not because they refuse to comply, but because the system is designed to delay, discourage, and exclude. Even proving that you qualify for asylum often requires documents that no one could possibly rescue while fleeing a bombed home or a collapsing life.

While political discourse focuses obsessively on “flows” and “invasions,” what almost never gets discussed is the actual everyday reality of migrants, the labor exploitation, the lack of access to healthcare or education, the constant uncertainty of “will I be allowed to stay tomorrow,” the threat of deportation, the social stigma, the ghettoization, the absence of meaningful integration. Many states treat migration as a problem that must be “controlled,” not as a social fact that must be understood, integrated, and addressed with humanity.

International Migrants Day exists precisely because of this gap, the gap between rhetoric and reality, between what is said and what people live. It is a day dedicated to rights and dignity, to the fundamental right to move and to the right to live without fear. It is also a reminder that societies do not show their humanity in how they treat the powerful, but in how they treat the vulnerable.

Here we see another dimension of populism, the selective invocation of “legality.” Public debate suddenly fills with people who appear deeply committed to the rule of law when the conversation turns to migrants. “They came illegally,” they say, as if respect for the law were a consistent personal value and not something invoked only when convenient. Because the same people who express moral outrage at a refugee are often the same people who consider underage drinking normal, who speed on the highway, who drive under the influence, who use recreational substances, who pirate movies, music, and games without a second thought. In those cases, the law becomes a “technicality,” and strictness evaporates.

Yet when the “offender” is someone who ran from war, when it is a mother holding a child in a boat, when it is a young person who left everything behind just to survive, then suddenly the law becomes absolute and unforgiving. And even worse, we almost never see the same outrage when the offenders are powerful, corrupt politicians who steal public funds, evade taxes, exploit systems for personal gain, or embezzle compensations. In those situations, anger disappears. Outrage fades. “Illegality” becomes almost invisible.

This contradiction has nothing to do with the law. It has everything to do with control, with fear, and with the political function of populism, which is to divert collective anger away from those who cause injustice, and direct it instead toward those who are least able to defend themselves.

Yet within this landscape, there is a source of hope, and it comes from Generation Z. Gen Z is the first generation in history to grow up fully online, exposed every day to the lives of people across the world, from every background and every context. Diversity is not perceived as a threat; it is an intrinsic part of reality. For this generation, multiculturalism is not an ideological position, it is the texture of daily life in schools, universities, neighborhoods, and digital spaces.

Young people do not see migrants as outsiders, they are classmates, friends, coworkers, neighbors. They are the stories shared on social media, the voices heard without intermediaries, the people facing the same universal anxieties, work, education, safety, rights. Take the example of someone like Zohran Mamdani, who arrived in the United States as a child refugee and eventually became an elected representative in New York. His story is not an exception, it is a sign of a new era in which identity is shaped not by where you were born, but by who you are and what you contribute to your community.

What becomes clear is that Gen Z, through everyday contact with diverse cultures and people, rejects fear based rhetoric. They are not easily persuaded by politicians who weaponize xenophobia, and they do not accept narratives of “threat” without question. They see migration as a human reality, not as a tool for propaganda. And this generational shift carries enormous political weight for the future.

If we truly want to honor International Migrants Day, it is not enough to acknowledge its existence. We must promote policies that allow for safe, legal, and humane migration, support integration programs that go beyond survival and lead to participation and dignity, reform asylum and legalization systems so they do not trap people in bureaucratic limbo, and build societies that recognize diversity not as a danger but as a collective strength.

Because at the end of the day, the question we must ask is simple, and its simplicity is what makes it so revealing: How can a human being be considered “illegal” on an earth we were all born into? How can anyone be treated as worthless simply because they were born a few kilometers away?

If we cannot answer that clearly, then perhaps International Migrants Day exists to remind us that before borders, politics, and identities, we are, above all, human.


(*) Emmanouela Papapavlou is a high school student from Thessaloniki, Greece, deeply passionate about social and political issues. She has actively participated in Model United Nations and other youth forums, serving as a chairperson in multiple conferences and winning awards in Greek debate competitions. Writing is her greatest passion, and she loves using it to explore democracy, civic engagement, and human rights. Her dream is to share her ideas, inspire action, and amplify the voices of young people who want to make a difference. Email: emmanpapapavlou@gmail.com

Kurdish festival Newroz being celebrated in Istanbul, Turkey, on March 20, 2011. Photo: Sadık Güleç.

Peace with the Kurds in Turkey: What about It?

In this incisive analysis, political scientist Professor Cengiz Aktar examines Ankara’s latest initiative toward the Kurds, arguing that what has been presented as a peace process is instead a populist performance of reconciliation. Professor Aktar shows how Turkey’s government frames “brotherhood,” “national unity,” and “terror-free Turkey” as harmonious goals, even though such populist language masks structural inequalities and omits democratic guarantees for Kurdish identity. With Abdullah Öcalan’s call for dissolution of the PKK left unreciprocated, and no mechanisms for Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration (DDR), truth-seeking, or legal reform, Professor Aktar warns that the process risks being symbolic rather than transformative. He suggests that populism here functions not as conflict resolution, but as political containment — strengthening autocratic power while offering no durable settlement.

By Cengiz Aktar

Turkey’s long-running conflicts with its ethnic and/or religious groups have been on the permanent agenda for more than a century. Various attempts by successive rulers to suppress or resolve these conflicts have drawn the attention of Turkey watchers and international public opinion throughout this period.

Interestingly, the latest initiative by the Ankara regime toward the Kurds—although seemingly ground-breaking at first glance—has largely gone unnoticed by global media outlets, and even more so by the wider public abroad. Only Western governments have, rather unenthusiastically, welcomed the developments.

Why such a lack of interest? Most likely because there is no serious or lasting peace perspective visible at the end of the process.

The genocide in Gaza, Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, and the massacres and famine in Sudan are now almost entirely dominating the headlines. Nevertheless, a genuine “Kurdish peace” would normally contain—at least partially—the seeds of region-wide normalization. Yet no one seems to detect such a dynamic in Ankara’s initiative, and rightly so.

Let us briefly recall the background.

Since the surprise launch of the so-called “process” on October 1, 2024, a highly unusual modus operandi has been underway to address this decades-old military conflict.

First, contrary to well-established conflict-resolution practices, the parties involved are not on equal footing. The Kurdish leader remains in prison and is not free in his movements or actions. That asymmetry alone speaks volumes about the genuineness of the process.

Since his capture and imprisonment twenty-five years ago, Ankara has approached Abdullah Öcalan three times with the same objective: to pressure him to end the armed struggle and push for the PKK’s dissolution. This time, it appears to have worked.

Indeed, on February 27, Öcalan declared that the rebel group had “completed its life cycle” and called for its dissolution, potentially signaling the end of a decades-long conflict that claimed at least 50,000 lives—around 40,000 of them Kurdish. 

His “Call for Peace and a Democratic Society” was broadcast to the public at a hotel in Istanbul. In return, the plea for “legal and political regulations for dissolution and disarmament,” which was not included in the written call, was later added verbally.

Compared to the previous “peace” initiative of 2013, there is a clear regression. At that time, Öcalan linked the resolution of the Kurdish issue to the PKK’s demobilization, while proposing a broader, holistic framework. Today, there is no longer any connection between the dismantlement of the PKK and a lasting political solution to the Kurdish question. Öcalan’s major unilateral concession thus clearly signals that the entire scenario is being crafted by the authorities.

Second, in line with this fundamental imbalance, the scenario assumes that the Kurdish issue will be resolved within a vague framework of “national solidarity, brotherhood, and democracy,” falling far short of the structural changes required for equal citizenship and the recognition of Kurdish identity. Yet it aligns perfectly with a populist rhetoric that casually pairs concepts that in fact cancel each other out, such as “brotherhood” and “democracy.” 

In the regime’s daily populist rhetoric, the process is laconically labeled “terror-free Turkey”—and nothing more. Worse, Öcalan now seems to echo this line by consistently promoting a “brotherhood” narrative in which Turkishness clearly takes precedence.

Within this framework, the regime may make symbolic gestures of goodwill but will never undertake ground-breaking reforms that would establish the constitutional, legal, and political foundations of an equal citizenship. 

Kurds, under this logic, can only become full-fledged citizens on the condition that they dissolve into the Turkish magma. Accordingly, since the Öcalan call on late February, not a single meaningful step has been undertaken by the regime toward the Kurds.

Third, established conflict-resolution mechanisms and expert involvement are entirely absent from the Turkish process—whether in the form of joint commissions or specialized bodies within relevant public institutions.

Disarmament, Demobilization, and Reintegration (DDR)—the return of ex-combatants to civilian life through weapons collection, disbandment of armed groups, and social and economic reintegration—is not part of the process. Likewise, no provision has been made for truth and reconciliation.

All in all, within this unusual conflict-resolution architecture, the only concrete step taken by Ankara has been the establishment of an advisory parliamentary commission until the end of 2025, which meets behind closed doors and in which regime parties hold an absolute majority. Its agenda does not include, for example, a crucial Kurdish demand: the official recognition of the Kurdish language.

As for the opposition—including the main opposition party, the Republican People’s Party (CHP)—the prevailing view seems to be that the process would automatically trigger broader democratization. As if history had ever shown a non-democratic regime transforming into a democracy through the smooth management of peacebuilding with an ostracized people—in this case, the Kurds. Simply because such a management requires as a pre-condition, a functioning democracy. 

The negative consequences of this clumsy process are already looming. While PKK circles have complied with the call of their “supreme leader” Öcalan, the Kurdish street remains profoundly skeptical. People welcome the official end of the armed struggle for its potential to spare the lives of their children—but no more than that.

Overall, the process is likely to strengthen Erdoğan and the regime bloc, allowing it to reap the political benefits of a “terror-free Turkey,” while weakening if not dismissing the Kurdish Political Movement. This carries the risk of a violent rejection of Kurdish “surrender” by radical—or less radical—segments of Kurdish polity.

Beyond this unfolding drama, Ankara’s ultimate objective remains the dissolution of the Autonomous Administration of North and East Syria (AANES) in Syrian Kurdistan (Rojava), led by Syrian Kurds and backed by a 100,000-strong, NATO-trained and equipped military force.

Nevertheless, the integration of this force into the nascent Syrian army appears to be the only realistic option for Damascus, for the AANES, and for the international coalition supporting the entity, which includes the United States, the United Kingdom, France, and Saudi Arabia. Negotiations among all actors are underway despite Turkey’s stubborn opposition.

The Turkish state has never viewed the Kurdish issue as anything other than a security problem—whether inside Turkey or in neighboring countries. That reflex will not change unless Ankara is forced to accept the Rojava fait accompli, thereby swallowing both the empowerment and the legitimacy of a Kurdish-led polity in its immediate neighborhood and across the wider region.

Professor Tim Bale is a renowned scholar from the School of Politics and International Relations at Queen Mary University of London.

Prof. Bale: Nigel Farage Is a Marmite Politician — Loved by His Base, Toxic to Many Others

In this in-depth interview for ECPS, Professor Tim Bale offers a sharp assessment of Reform UK’s rise and Nigel Farage’s polarizing leadership. Farage, he argues, is “a Marmite politician — people either love or hate him,” making him both Reform’s engine and its constraint. Professor Bale suggests that Farage exemplifies “a classic populist radical-right leader” who channels anti-elite sentiment, yet risks alienating voters beyond his base. He links Reform’s surge less to ideological realignment than to Conservative decay, marked by Brexit fragmentation, leadership churn, and “over-promis[ing] and under-deliver[ing] on migration.” While Reform may reshape the political terrain, Professor Bale warns its ceiling remains visible—especially if questions of competence, Russia, and generational change intensify. Reform’s future, he concludes, is possible, but far from inevitable.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Giving an interview to the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Professor Tim Bale—Professor of Politics in the Department of Politics and International Relations at Queen Mary University of London—offers a wide-ranging analysis of Nigel Farage, Reform UK, and the structural realignments reshaping British party politics. His insights are grounded in decades of scholarship on party evolution, populist rhetoric, and leadership psychology, making his perspective essential for understanding the United Kingdom’s shifting electoral landscape.

Throughout the interview, Professor Bale situates Nigel Farage as both emblem and engine of Britain’s contemporary radical right. As he puts it, “Nigel Farage is, in many ways, a classic example of a populist radical-right leader,” one who mobilizes support through a moralized confrontation between “the people” and supposed elite betrayal. Yet Farage’s strength is also his constraint. Professor Bale memorably describes him as “a Marmite politician,” a figure voters “either love or hate,” noting that this polarization “probably places a limit on Reform’s appeal.” Farage, therefore, embodies both populist vitality and electoral risk—“the ideal leader” in the eyes of his base, yet “a figure of suspicion” for many beyond it.

This duality frames Professor Bale’s central contention: that Reform UK’s rise must be understood not only in ideological terms but as an artefact of Conservative decay. Years of intra-party conflict, Brexit-driven fragmentation, and “over-promis[ing] and under-deliver[ing] on migration” have opened political space for Farage’s insurgency. Yet Professor Bale cautions against assuming an irreversible realignment. The Conservative Party remains “rooted in the middle-class political culture of the UK,” with institutional depth and internal veto points that make any “reverse takeover” more difficult than populist narratives imply.

Focusing on the structural and sociological conditions that shape political possibility, Professor Bale further highlights a widening generational divide. While education and age have become stronger electoral predictors than class, cultural conflict alone cannot explain support for Reform. If public priorities shift back from national issues to personal ones—from immigration to “the cost of living, [and] the state of public services”—Reform’s momentum may plateau. Moreover, its perceived softness on Russia remains “an Achilles’ heel,” one that stalled its surge when public attention sharpened in 2024.

Across this interview, Professor Bale neither exaggerates inevitability nor discounts volatility. Instead, he offers a sober framework for evaluating whether Reform represents a durable transformation or a protest cycle with a ceiling. Britain, he suggests, now faces a future where polarization, demographic turnover, institutional vulnerability, and charismatic leadership converge—precariously. This conversation, therefore, is not only timely, but analytically consequential.

Here is the edited transcript of our interview with Professor Tim Bale, slightly revised for clarity and flow.

Farage Is a Classic Populist Radical Right Leader

Nigel Farage speaking in Dover, Kent, UK, on May 28, 2024, in support of the Reform Party, of which he is President. Photo: Sean Aidan Calderbank.

Professor Tim Bale, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In your work with Cristóbal Rovira Kaltwasser on the mainstream right’s strategic squeeze between Inglehart’s “silent revolution” and Ignazi’s “silent counter-revolution,” how should we interpret the rise of Reform UK? To what extent does Nigel Farage embody a classic mobiliser of counter-revolutionary sentiment, and to what extent do the Conservative Party’s specific organizational, ideological, and reputational vulnerabilities make the UK an outlier in the broader pattern of West European party-system transformation?

Professor Tim Bale: I think you would have to say that Nigel Farage is, in many ways, a classic example of a populist radical-right leader. He constantly draws a distinction between the wisdom of “the people” and their alleged betrayal and condescension by elites. As for the Conservative Party, there has always been a strain of populism and nationalism—indeed, some would say jingoism—within its tradition. In recent years, particularly under Boris Johnson and during the Brexit campaign, this tendency has come to the surface. In that sense, the party has reached back into its more populist and nationalist heritage as a way of competing with Farage and the political space he has claimed.

The Tories Are Hard to Capture — But Not Impossible

Farage’s rhetoric about a prospective “reverse takeover” foregrounds questions of party permeability and factional capture. Drawing on your analyses of Conservative factionalism and recurrent leadership crises, what structural, ideological, and organizational conditions render the Conservative Party susceptible to colonization by a radical-right challenger? Conversely, what features of party culture, elite networks, or institutional veto points might inhibit such a takeover?

Professor Tim Bale: When you look at the Conservative Party, there are features that, while not necessarily inoculating it from the challenge Farage poses, do make such a takeover more difficult than some people imagine, in the sense that it is a party rooted in the middle-class political culture of the UK. It is a party that has existed for 200 years, and it has a strong sense of entitlement, as it were, and a strong belief that it is the natural party of government, and therefore will be able to resist, in some ways, any challenge from a newcomer. 

Having said that, however, one feature of the Conservative Party that always has to be borne in mind is that it is very strongly a leadership-driven party, and that should a leader take over who is more receptive to the kinds of overtures that Nigel Farage and others are making, then it would be quite easy for that person to convert the party to taking a much more hospitable attitude to that development. So, on the one hand, the fact that the Conservative Party is old, has a brand, and has an infrastructure makes it quite difficult for somebody to take it over. On the other hand, it can be taken over quite easily from within, because it is so reliant on the leader to show it the way in terms of policy and organization.

Farage Is Reform’s Greatest Asset and Its Weakest Link

Stop Trump Coalition march, Central London, United Kingdom, September 17, 2025. A protester holds a sign reading “No to fascists — Trump, Musk, Farage.” Photo: Ben Gingell.

Your recent interview on Reform UK emphasizes Farage’s dual status as both the party’s central mobilizing force and its principal liability. How does this tension map onto broader theories of charismatic leadership, affective polarization, and “anti-system” appeal? In an increasingly fragmented multi-party context, does Farage’s polarizing image constrain the party’s governability narrative to the point of limiting its credible path to No. 10?

Professor Tim Bale: Nigel Farage is what we call, in England, a Marmite politician, which refers to a yeast-based spread that people put on their toast in the morning. People either love or hate that particular spread, and that’s very true of people’s attitudes to Nigel Farage. I think the fact that he is such a polarizing figure probably places a limit on Reform’s appeal. At the moment, it seems to be polling around 30% in the opinion polls, and I think that reflects the fact that he finds it difficult to appeal to voters who hate him, obviously, but also that ambivalent voters may be wary of the polarization he represents. So, I do think that is something of an obstacle to Farage’s progress. The anti-system appeal you mention is clearly attractive to some voters — people fed up with the two mainstream parties who want to smash the system. Anyone like Nigel Farage, who seems to offer a more radical alternative, is an appealing option for them. However, there is still a strong streak of small-c conservatism in the British electorate that would regard that as too radical, and that would like change — but not at the cost of dismantling a parliamentary, liberal, representative democracy that, in many ways, has served Britain well over the last couple of hundred years.

Reform’s Rise Is Built on Tory Collapse as Much as Ideology

Your research on Conservative leadership instability highlights the compounding effects of leader unpopularity, policy incoherence, and internal disunity on electoral performance. How much of Reform UK’s current momentum should be understood through the lens of “opportunity structures” created by Conservative decay, rather than any substantive ideological realignment toward radical-right policy demand?

Professor Tim Bale: As always, what we’re seeing is a combination of both. I mean, there is some genuine appeal of Reform UK’s policies and pitch to the electorate. But obviously, what has gone wrong with the Conservative Party has opened up avenues for Reform in a way that we haven’t seen before. In particular, the fact that the Conservative Party has really, since 2010, over-promised and under-delivered on migration has made it much easier for Farage to suggest that somehow it has failed voters and that it has not been able to, as it were, live up to their expectations. 

Also, you would have to say that the way the Conservative Party has lost its organizational coherence, the way Brexit, for example, tore the party apart and made parliamentary discipline something of a fiction, hasn’t helped—nor has the party’s tendency to cycle through leaders so quickly. That has led to a feeling that the Conservative Party, oncea sort of solid, respectable governing party, has to some extent lost its way, even lost its mind, according to some voters. And I don’t think that has helped the Conservative Party, but I do think that’s helped Nigel Farage and Reform UK.

Many Tory MPs Would Be Comfortable in a PRR Party

In “Populism as an intra-party phenomenon,” you analyzed how Corbynism reconfigured Labour’s organizational dynamics and membership incentives. Do you observe analogous intra-party populist dynamics emerging within the Conservatives today—particularly in the struggle between traditional conservatives, post-liberal cultural conservatives, and those advocating rapprochement or fusion with Reform UK?

Professor Tim Bale: There are definitely, if not factions, then certainly groups within the Conservative Party who are battling it out for the party’s soul. You can see that there is very clearly a bunch of MPs who, if not wanting a merger with Reform UK, would actually be quite open to the idea of some kind of electoral pact with Farage’s party. I think that partly is instrumental opportunism on their part, in the sense that they think the Conservative Party is in trouble, and it needs an alliance of some kind with Reform UK to recover its fortunes. 

But, there are MPs within the Conservative Party who, to be honest, would be quite comfortable belonging to a populist radical right party. They believe that Britain needs shaking up economically, and that the only way for that to happen is actually to get a greater level of support from the electorate, based on cultural concerns—concerns around immigration, woke issues, and green policies. That’s the only way of getting the kind of government that they want to actually dismantle some of the welfare state and some of the regulation that they think is holding Britain back. So, you have a strange situation in the Conservative Party where there are many advocates of a much more neoliberal conservatism who are prepared to adopt a more authoritarian stance on cultural concerns in order to get into government and implement the kinds of economic policies that they think are absolutely vital.

The Tories Are Now Moving on Migration in Farage’s Direction

Photo: Dreamstime.

Your comparative work on UKIP/Brexit Party and Australia’s One Nation highlights how radical-right “outsiders” can generate policy payoffs without executive power by reshaping the strategic environment of mainstream parties. How is Reform UK already influencing Conservative rhetoric, agenda-setting, and internal factional alignments—especially on immigration, welfare, and ECHR withdrawal?

Professor Tim Bale: You put your finger on a phenomenon that occurs throughout the world, and we’ve seen it all over Western Europe, when parties with little hope of actually governing—and certainly of joining a coalition—are capable of, as it were, moving the center of gravity in a system towards the populist radical right. When you look at the Conservative Party’s policy-making since 2024, and even actually before that, in response to the threat that Nigel Farage’s various parties—be it UKIP, be it the Brexit Party, be it Reform UK—you can clearly see that the Conservative Party has moved very much in his direction.

So, on migration, we now have a Conservative Party that has suggested—though there is some debate over whether it was intended seriously—withdraw­ing the indefinite right to remain granted to some non-citizens, and even opening up the possibility of them eventually being encouraged or indeed deported. That kind of mass-deportation approach is something previous Conservative governments would never have considered, and it reflects a direct response to some of Nigel Farage’s arguments.

Welfare is more complex. Farage is very aware that many of his supporters rely on the welfare state, and certainly on the National Health Service, so the Conservative Party must be cautious not to move too far toward his ambivalence on those issues. Instead, it tends to fall back on its more familiar low-tax, low-spend reputation.

On migration, that is the obvious one, where we’ve seen the Conservative Party move, just as we’ve seen parties, whether they be Christian Democrat or Conservatives across the continent, move very much towards a rather more kind of radical policy. You’d also have to look at environmental politics here, and it’s very clear that over the last few years, a Conservative Party that actually pioneered the move towards net zero—when Theresa May was Conservative Party Premier—is now really talking about winding back that commitment. I think, again, that is in response to Nigel Farage and Reform, and their promotion of the fossil fuel industry and its arguments.

Local Failures Might Not Dent Reform as Much as Opponents Hope

Reports of dysfunction in Reform-run local authorities raise questions about statecraft and institutional capacity. Given your longstanding argument that perceived competence ultimately constrains populist breakthroughs in Britain, do you anticipate that these governance shortcomings will erode Reform’s credibility? Or, alternatively, might anti-establishment narratives inoculate the party from such accountability?

Professor Tim Bale: That is a great question. We have seen Reform take over local authorities since spring of this year, and many of those councils have made rather a mess of things. They’ve fallen out with each other, they’ve found it much harder to make savings than they originally suggested, and in fact, they’re going to have to raise taxes rather than reduce them for local people. While the problems in those local authorities actually gain quite a lot of amused coverage in the media, I’m not sure how much the electorate in general pay attention to them if they’re not happening in their particular part of the country.

You raise a very good question here about the extent to which, if you criticize Reform UK, you actually strengthen, in some ways, the support for it among its die-hard advocates and voters. So, one would like to think that the example of local councils actually gives people pause for thought about whether it would be a good idea to elect Reform to the government of the country as a whole. But I rather doubt that it will have as big an impact as some of Reform’s opponents hope.

Hardline Accommodation Risks Alienating Supporters While Boosting the Radical Right

Your scholarship has shown that center-right parties often pre-empt or accommodate radical-right positions under competitive pressure. Should we expect Labour or the Conservatives to adapt their stances on immigration, welfare conditionality, or international legal obligations in response to Reform’s pressure? What do cross-national patterns suggest about the risks and limits of such accommodation?

Professor Tim Bale: We are already seeing in the UK the Labour government take a much harder line on migration than many of its supporters would like. It’s clear that that is a response by the government to losing votes to Reform. Current polling suggests that around 10% of people who voted for Labour in 2024 are now intending to vote for Reform, and Labour is desperate to get some of those people back, and by pursuing a more authoritarian stance on migration, they hope to do that.

You also point, however, to the fact that this has gone on all over the European continent. We’ve seen center-left parties as well as center-right parties pursuing a harder line on migration, and Denmark is often the country pointed to in this respect, perhaps as a successful example. But when we look across the continent as a whole, we don’t find that it is a particularly useful response for center-left parties to take. It ends up doing two things: first, alienating many of their more obvious supporters—in other words, people who have more liberal or left-wing values; and second, it tends to prove counterproductive or futile, in the sense that all it does is raise the salience of issues like migration in the minds of most voters, causing elections to be fought and debate to be conducted on terrain that actually favors populist radical right parties.

So, I personally wouldn’t advocate that as a response by the center-left, but it’s one that is still often mooted and taken by center-left parties, unfortunately.

Farage’s Sympathy for Putin Is an Achilles’ Heel

Stop Trump Coalition march, Central London, United Kingdom, September 17, 2025. Protesters dressed as Musk, Farage, Vance, Putin, Trump, and Netanyahu. Photo: Ben Gingell.

Your work on leadership perception underscores how trait attributions shape political choice. How electorally damaging is the perception that Reform UK is “soft on Russia,” particularly given polling indicating its unusually high association with pro-Russia sentiment? Does this reputational liability limit its potential to broaden its coalition beyond anti-establishment voters?

Professor Tim Bale: Reform’s support, Reform’s support, and certainly Farage’s apparent sympathy for Putin’s justification of the invasion of Ukraine, is something of an Achilles’ heel for him. To be clear, Farage has been careful not to appear as a superfan of Vladimir Putin, but he has repeatedly suggested that Russia’s invasion has been influenced by NATO “poking the Russian bear” and extending its influence into Ukraine in ways that allegedly threatened Moscow. 

Polling from the 2024 election shows that the moment public attention focused on Farage’s more accommodating stance toward Putin and Russia, Reform’s upward trajectory stalled. This position is deeply unpopular in Britain, and it is something Farage will have to address seriously, especially ahead of the next election. After all, the country will be choosing a government and prime minister in a highly unstable geopolitical moment, and Russia is viewed by the overwhelming majority of Britons as the aggressor.

So, I think it is a limit to his appeal unless he begins to resile from it. At the moment, however, it doesn’t look as if he wants to do that. I should add a caveat here: when we look at other populist radical-right parties, and indeed more extreme variants of the radical right in Europe, there does not appear to be anything like the same level of enthusiasm for Russia and for Putin within Reform as we see in some of their continental counterparts.

Reform Voters Favor Leaders with ‘Dark Triad’ Traits

Your “What Britons Want in a Political Leader” study reveals stark divergences between the traits valued by Reform/Conservative members and those preferred by the broader electorate. What does this asymmetry imply about Reform’s sociological and psychological ceiling of support, and what does it reveal about the electorate segments most susceptible to Farage’s appeal?

Professor Tim Bale: What we find in our research is that supporters—and certainly members of Reform—have much more positive views about leaders who exhibit what psychologists would call dark triad qualities. In other words, those are Machiavellianism, for example, psychopathy, for example. That is a marked contrast with the supporters of other parties, although slightly less so with supporters of the Conservative Party, who are rather more like Reform.

I think this comes down, once again, to Nigel Farage’s appeal. For his supporters, he is, in some ways, the ideal leader: he exhibits the kind of ruthless and sometimes manipulative, clever qualities that they so admire. But those very same qualities are actually quite off-putting to a large segment of the British electorate. So once again, if we’re talking about limits to Nigel Farage’s appeal, the kind of leadership qualities that he has—the leadership that he demonstrates—make him intensely popular with his own supporters, because they are psychologically predisposed to like that kind of leadership. Whereas for many in the electorate, they make him a figure of suspicion rather than someone they would like to see leading the country.

The Greens, Not Corbyn, Pose the Greater Danger to Labour

Jeremy Corbyn, former Labour leader, during a visit to Bedford, United Kingdom, May 3, 2017. Photo: Dreamstime.

Reform appears to be peeling off older, culturally conservative, economically insecure voters, while recently founded socialist Your Party seems poised to attract younger, urban, progressive activists disillusioned with Labour. How vulnerable is Labour to a “two-front erosion,” and do Starmer’s strategic concessions on immigration and public order risk replicating the center-left dilemmas seen elsewhere in Europe?

Professor Tim Bale: You’ve seen recently Your Party try to get its act together. This is the party being set up by, among others, Jeremy Corbyn, who used to be the very left-wing leader of the Labour Party, and Zara Sultana, an ex-Labour MP. There is an extent to which this does threaten Labour’s hegemony on the left. There are many left-wing voters who are very disappointed with the Labour government, not least on its attitude to migration, but also on its attitude to tax and spend.

What I would say, however, is that I’m not sure Your Party is actually the biggest threat to Labour on that front. I think what we’ve seen recently is that the difficulties that Your Party have had in actually getting its act together, as I said before, mean that the Green Party has seized the moment. It’s elected a new so-called eco-populist leader, Zach Polanski, who appears to be saying and doing the kinds of things that people disillusioned with Labour would actually like—so, for example, wealth taxes, and a much more aggressive attitude to Nigel Farage and Reform UK.

So, if there is a kind of two-front war being fought by Labour—Reform on the one hand, and then a left-wing party on the other—it’s probably not Your Party; it’s probably the Greens that are the biggest threat on its left flank.

First-Past-the-Post May Save Labour

Drawing on your prior analyses of organizational dysfunction within left-of-center parties, how serious a threat is Your Party’s emergence—given its early factional disputes and resource constraints—to Labour’s ability to consolidate progressive voters? Might it institutionalize a structural cleavage on the British left akin to Podemos–PSOE or Mélenchon–Socialist Party dynamics?

Professor Tim Bale: There is a risk. There We talked about some of the problems that Your Party have had. There is a risk that if they can actually surmount some of the early difficulties that they have, then we do see a party on the left—whether it be Your Party or the Greens—actually draining support from Labour. Current opinion polling does suggest that around 10–15% of former Labour voters have drifted off and might drift off in that direction.

However, there’s always the constraining factor of our electoral system. It is always going to be possible for Labour, successfully or unsuccessfully, to argue that under a first-past-the-post system a vote for either the Greens or Your Party is a wasted vote, particularly if they are able to conjure up the possibility of a Reform government under Nigel Farage, which may frighten sufficient numbers of people who might otherwise be tempted to use their vote expressively and to vote for Your Party or the Greens. They may wonder whether that is a good idea and, actually, in the end, come back home to the Labour Party. Probably that is the Labour Party’s strategy at the moment.

Keir Starmer, Prime Minister of the United Kingdom, attends a joint press conference with Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskiy in Kyiv, Ukraine, on January 16, 2025. Photo: Vladyslav Musiienko.

Conservatives Misread 2019 as Permanent Shift, Ignoring Voters’ Economic Priorities

In Hopes Will Be Dashed,” you argued that Brexit negotiating strategies were deeply shaped by a pervasive “Merkel myth.” Do you see contemporary Conservative or Reform elites relying on analogous political myths—such as a presumed majority demand for “uniting the right,” a belief in the inevitability of populist realignment, or a misreading of public appetite for hard-liner sovereignty politics?

Professor Tim Bale: That is a great question. I think one of the problems that the Conservative Party in particular had was a misreading of the 2019 election result as proof of what they called the realignment. In other words, the sense that working-class voters in this country had moved very much to the right on social questions, on cultural questions, and therefore there was some kind of permanent change of which the Conservative Party would be the beneficiary—when in fact that election was, in some ways, a rather more contingent affair, influenced very much by Brexit, influenced very much by the personality of Jeremy Corbyn, and indeed, Boris Johnson.

That myth—the idea that somehow there has been this incredibly profound change, and that cultural politics is now the dominant factor in elections—is still something that the Conservative Party holds onto, much to its detriment. It’s very interesting when you look at the leadership election in the Conservative Party following the 2024 general election. All the talk was about the Conservatives’ failure on migration, rather than the Conservatives’ failure to provide the country with adequate economic growth and adequate public services.

So, there is a kind of fixation on cultural politics and on this so-called realignment that the Conservative Party still has, which makes it actually quite difficult for it to realize that there is more to life than migration and woke, and indeed net-zero—that, in fact, the British public are not that different in the sense that they still want a government that hopefully provides them with peace, prosperity, and public services that actually work.

Britain Is Slowly Becoming More Liberal

You have frequently noted the role of media ecosystems in amplifying or constraining radical-right actors. To what extent is Reform’s surge a product of media-driven agenda-setting, and to what extent does it reflect deeper structural and sociological realignments within British politics? How should we disentangle these forces analytically?

Professor Tim Bale: That is a great question, but it’s also a very complicated one. Having shed doubt on this idea of a realignment, it is definitely the case that class features much less as a driver of people’s voting in this country, and that, in fact, education and age, to some extent, now seem to be the best predictors of which way people are going to vote. I do think cultural questions have come up in the mix, but I would want to say that the economy—while it’s not the only thing, the only game in town—is still actually very important as a driver of the way that people vote.

If you step back and look at cultural change in this country, clearly there are many voters who are uncomfortable with that, but they tend to be in older generations and, of course, will eventually disappear from the electorate. Now, that’s not to say that the center-left will somehow come into a kind of inevitable inheritance, because younger voters are rather more liberal and more tolerant in their attitudes. But it is to say that the center-right has to be very careful that it doesn’t end up on the wrong side of history, to coin a cliché, and fails to recognize that, for all the turmoil going on in British politics, underneath that, voters are becoming rather more liberal, more tolerant, and—despite media-driven polarization—more comfortable with a multicultural, multi-ethnic Britain.

So how long politics and political parties can thrive by exploiting differences, concerns, and anxieties is an open question.

If Living Costs Top Immigration, Reform Could Stall

UK economic crisis concept illustrated with the Union Jack and forex market data trends (AI-generated). Photo: Yuliya Rudzko.

And finally, you have cautioned that a Reform-led government is “not inevitable.” What empirical indicators—electoral, organizational, reputational, or demographic—would persuade you that (a) Reform UK is on a trajectory toward executive power, or (b) its rise represents a cyclical protest mobilization likely to dissipate before the next general election?

Professor Tim Bale: You have to look at support for Nigel Farage in particular, and the extent to which people think he will or won’t make a good Prime Minister. In the end, people know that they are voting not just in protest against something but are actually having to elect a government that’s going to make some very important decisions, and Nigel Farage is so central to Reform’s appeal that what people think of him is extremely important.

You also have to look at the extent—and obviously this, to some extent, involves prediction as to which issues are going to be most important for people at the next election. At the moment, immigration seems to be top of the list, but it’s only top of the list when you ask people what is the most important problem facing the country. When you ask people what’s the most important problem facing you and your family, immigration drops down the list, and the cost of living, the state of public services, comes right up.

So, I would probably look at the extent to which that is changing. If people think that migration is making a difference to them and their family, then perhaps that bodes well for Reform. But if the current disjunction between what people think is important to the country and what people think is important to them and their families continues, Reform is less likely to gain in strength.

Then, you’d have to take account of the kind of geopolitical situation, given we’ve already talked about Russia being something of an Achilles’ heel for Reform UK. If you were to see any extension of Russia’s aggression in Europe, then that would make it very difficult for Reform UK to make a convincing case for government.

I’d also look at what’s happening to the Conservative Party to bring it full circle. If the Conservative Party continues to stay in the doldrums—in other words, if it can’t recover itself and it can’t get anywhere near 25–30% of the vote—then there are many people who would normally vote Conservative who might be prepared to vote Reform, and that would give Reform a chance of government.

One final thing to throw into the mix is that our electoral system is not really very well suited to the party system that we now have. We now have a five-party—maybe six, seven, eight-party—system in this country, operating alongside an electoral system that is suited only to two parties, which means that it could be possible that a party on just under 30% of the vote could get a majority in Parliament next time around, and that would be a very unstable situation for the UK.