Photo: Dreamstime.

COP30: The Spaceship Is on Fire

In her sharp analysis of the COP30 summit, Dr. Heidi Hart, an environmental humanities researcher and guest instructor at Linnaeus University in Sweden, captures the surreal moment when an exhibition pavilion in Belém caught fire—an unsettling metaphor for a world already burning. Despite tense negotiations and an extra day of talks, petrostates secured a final text that completely omitted fossil fuels, leaving UN Secretary-General Guterres to warn of a widening gap between science and policy. Dr. Hart situates this failure within a shifting global landscape marked by illiberal regimes, climate denial, and powerful petro-interests. With geopolitical turmoil and corporate greenwashing shaping outcomes, her commentary underscores a stark truth: on a “spaceship” with finite resources, political paralysis is accelerating us toward irreversible tipping points.

By Heidi Hart

The defining image of the COP30 climate summit flashed around the world: fire in an exhibition pavilion at the meeting site in Belém, Brazil, flames spreading up the tent’s walls and forcing evacuations. No one was injured beyond smoke inhalation, but the “world is on fire” adage took a literal turn as delegates wrestled to find consensus. The summit spilled over into an extra day, with a win for petrostates like Saudi Arabia, as the final agreement ceded more funding to at-risk countries but failed to include any language about fossil fuels. 

On Saturday, COP30 President André Corrêa do Lago announced a forthcoming “side-text” about fossil fuels and forest protections, also a hot topic among Indigenous protesters who had pressed into the secure COP “Blue Zone” on Friday evening. The UN Secretary-General António Guterres’ assessment after the summit was grim, despite acknowledging some progress on “adaptation” funds: “The gap between where we are and what science demands remains dangerously wide … The reality of overshoot is a stark warning: we are approaching dangerous and irreversible tipping points.” The lack of even a mention of fossil fuels in the final agreement, let alone the “deep, rapid emission cuts” Guterres acknowledges are necessary to keep the planet below overshoot carbon levels, is not just the result of Saudi and Russian delegates’ bully tactics (Al Gore has referred to the agreement as an “Opec text”) but also a symptom of profoundly shifting political realities around the world. 

The notable absence of US delegates, while the Trump administration slashed environmental protections at home, was the source of relief for some at the summit but also pointed to the normalization of climate denial amid illiberal regimes’ growing influence and far-right pressures in green-aspirational countries like Germany. Even Norway, known for its own sustainable, egalitarian culture, has no plans to sacrifice its oil wealth for the larger planetary good. Meanwhile, costly wars and deep political divisions in countries like the US and Brazil distract from efforts to forge coherent climate policy. Finally, the sheer scale of petrostates’ and billionaire technocrats’ influence cannot be overstated in watering down and even – in this case – completely avoiding action on carbon emissions cuts. Bill Gates’ recent essay diminishing the dangers of climate emergency has not helped; though “civilization” will likely not be wiped out in a sci-fi doomsday scenario, the suffering of millions and the loss of innumerable nonhuman species are hardly points to be glossed over in the name of “innovation.” Neoliberal optimism sounds increasingly tone-deaf in a time when the limits of human progress are becoming palpably clear around the world. 

The idea of “Spaceship Earth,” popularized by Buckminster Fuller in the late 1970s, portrays the planet as a closed system with limited resources. Though this idea has informed many efforts toward more sustainable living, greenwashing for the sake of profit has become the norm among large corporations. The comforts of petrocultures, the material, cultural, and economic manifestations of decades of cheap oil, are so embedded in privileged countries, there are limits, too, to how much individuals can do to shrink their carbon footprints. 

On the political level, Saudi and Russian influence is only one part of the picture; lack of concern or climate denialism (often cast as denial of the human cause) is growing in countries like Indonesia, Mexico, India, and Australia, places where the risks from global heating are high. In the formerly stable if systemically inequitable US, the lurch toward anti-science authoritarianism has been so swift as to induce a kind of vertigo. In his recent book Impasse: Climate Change and the Limits of Progress, Roy Scranton writes, “We can recognize the Earth as a closed system in which we all depend on each other, but the political reality within that system resembles gang warfare more than it does a unified crew,” (91). The deep lack of consensus at COP30, when the risks of climate collapse are clearer than ever, shows how much more difficult the problem is to address in today’s chaotic political landscape.

Nearly ten years ago, in her essay “What Is the Anthro-political?”, culture theorist Claire Colebrook engaged with the already contested Anthropocene term to argue that, in light of ecological destruction, “the political” as a norm can no longer be taken for granted. This provocative stance is worth revisiting today. Especially with the rise of populist tendencies that tap into human “affect and corporeality,” the political no longer appears as a regulating modality of human-being but rather as a contingent aspect of human culture that, once that culture destroys its own “milieu” or literal environment, will go down with it. In Colebrook’s more elegant terms, “What if what we know as politics … were possible only in a brief era of the taming of human history?” (115). 

This geologic-scale perspective on last week’s pitting of the EU’s and other climate-sympathetic delegates against fossil-friendly regimes (with the absent US in the background noise) does not diminish the stakes at COP30 but shows how vast and planetary those stakes are. With our closed system threatening to burn beyond livable thresholds, the responsibility of one global gathering to stave off one local disaster after another becomes painfully clear. 

Daytime view of Akihabara in Tokyo, known as “Electric Town” for its many electronics shops, duty-free stores, and vibrant youth culture. Photo: Dreamstime.

Prof. Klein: It Is Difficult to Label Japanese PM Takaichi a Populist, Despite Her Nationalism and Anti-Feminism

In this incisive interview for the ECPS, Professor Axel Klein offers a nuanced assessment of Japanese Prime Minister Sanae Takaichi’s ideological profile. While her blend of nationalism, anti-feminism, and strong-leader rhetoric has led some observers to categorize her as a populist, Professor Klein cautions against this simplification. As he notes, “nationalism and anti-feminism… are trademarks of a conservative or right-wing politician, but they are not necessarily populist phenomena per se.” Instead, he situates PM Takaichi within Japan’s broader political culture—one shaped by nostalgia, stability-seeking voters, and the enduring dominance of the LDP—arguing that her conservatism reflects continuity more than populist rupture.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Sanae Takaichi’s rise to the premiership marks one of the most significant ideological shifts in Japanese politics in recent decades. Her ascent has sparked debates not only within Japan but also among scholars of comparative populism who are examining whether her blend of nationalism, anti-feminism, and assertive leadership constitutes a new populist moment in East Asia. In this wide-ranging interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Dr. Axel Klein— Professor for Social Sciences of East Asia / Japanese Politics at Institute of East Asian Studies and Faculty of Social Science, University of Duisburg-Essen and one of Europe’s leading specialists on Japanese politics and populism—offers a nuanced interpretation of her leadership style and ideological positioning.

Reflecting on the definitional complexities of populism, Professor Klein begins by cautioning against the automatic classification of PM Takaichi as a populist merely because she deploys rhetoric familiar from global right-wing movements. As he notes, “I think you would find it difficult to label her a populist… nationalism and anti-feminism… are trademarks of a conservative or right-wing politician, but they are not necessarily populist phenomena per se.” This observation forms the conceptual backbone of the interview. It foregrounds a tension between PM Takaichi’s affective, backward-looking appeals and the analytical criteria political scientists typically use to identify populist actors.

Several sections of the interview explore the symbolic and strategic dimensions of her conservatism. PM Takaichi’s frequent invocation of Margaret Thatcher, for instance, is not simply an ideological alignment but part of a deliberate performance of decisiveness and moral clarity. Professor Klein situates this “Thatcherian” posture within Japan’s evolving political culture, noting that a significant segment of the electorate has come to desire a strong, assertive leader capable of cutting through bureaucratic inertia. Her rejection of feminist policy is similarly framed as part of a broader moral and nostalgic project rather than a carefully structured ideological program.

The interview further scrutinizes PM Takaichi’s positioning in domestic and international contexts: her recourse to economic protectionism toward China, her appeal to Japan’s aging conservative base, and her relationship to emergent right-wing actors such as Sanseito. Professor Klein’s long-term analysis of Japanese democratic institutions raises critical questions about whether her brand of conservative moralism represents a stabilizing force or a potential risk for democratic quality. While Japan’s electoral patterns and party system differ markedly from Western cases of democratic backsliding, Professor Klein argues that structural conservatism, low youth engagement, and a dominant-party landscape may create conditions in which moralizing politics can flourish without substantial opposition.

Taken together, the interview provides an analytically rich and contextually grounded assessment of PM Takaichi’s leadership, situating her not as a straightforward populist but as a figure whose political significance lies in the interplay between nostalgia, nationalism, and Japan’s institutional continuity.

Axel Klein is a Professor for Social Sciences of East Asia / Japanese Politics at Institute of East Asian Studies and Faculty of Social Science, University of Duisburg-Essen and one of Europe’s leading specialists on Japanese politics and populism.

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

Takaichi’s Nationalism and Anti-Feminism Don’t Make Her a Populist

Professor Axel Klein, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In your work on East Asian populism, you describe Japan’s populist movements as “muted” compared to their Western counterparts. How does Sanae Takaichi’s ascent complicate this framework? Does her blend of nationalism, charisma, and anti-feminism mark a new populist phase in Japanese politics?

Professor Axel Klein: I think it depends a bit on your definition of populism. In political science, we have three or four dominant concepts of populism, and if you applied these concepts to Mrs. Takaichi, I think you would find it difficult to label her a populist. There are also a number of less well-known concepts, and perhaps she would meet some of those criteria here and there, but personally, I find it difficult to call her a populist. That is because nationalism and anti-feminism, or a marked disregard for any feminist agenda, are trademarks of a conservative or right-wing politician, but they are not necessarily populist phenomena per se.

Takaichi’s Strong-Leader Persona Reflects Voter Desire, Not Ideological Thatcherism

PM Takaichi frequently invokes Margaret Thatcher as a role model. To what extent does this “Thatcherian populism” reflect a fusion of neoliberal economics and patriarchal conservatism unique to Japan’s political culture?

Professor Axel Klein: If you consider simple messaging and clear-cut language as a populist trait, then that’s probably something Mrs. Takaichi tries, and in that sense, she may appear similar to Margaret Thatcher. She has referred to her, as you rightly said, and the image of the Iron Lady may be something Mrs. Takaichi wants to project. But she hasn’t really had enough time to prove that she can be such a hardliner. The Japanese political system, especially the power structure within the LDP, doesn’t necessarily allow someone to push through a reform agenda. Thatcher did that with a neoliberal reform agenda, and she had Ronald Reagan at her side—these two were, so to speak, the neoliberal pioneers of that era. I don’t see that context in the case of Takaichi.

What I find interesting, despite many commentaries to the contrary, is that while some argue Japanese culture doesn’t allow for a strong leader, my experience observing Japanese politics over the last 30 or 40 years suggests that a large share of the population actually wants one. People want someone who can take decisive action. Mr. Ishiba, who was of course Mrs. Takaichi’s predecessor, tried the opposite approach. He was very considerate, spoke to many involved parties, and tried to take numerous views into account—but this slowed him down and made it difficult for people to see any progress. Mrs. Takaichi seems to try to convey the image of someone who can make decisions and push them through. And that may be exactly the kind of strong leadership many people in Japan are looking for, because they have seen that a more considerate, slower approach may not deliver the results they want, especially lowering consumer prices.

As long as people expect Mrs. Takaichi to be a decisive leader, I think her support rates will stay high, and as long as they stay high, the LDP will follow her. So, the comparison with Mrs. Thatcher may be sustained by the fact that Mrs. Takaichi is a female leader, lacks feminist motivation, and had to push aside many male competitors. But regarding tough decision-making, we are still waiting. She hasn’t had much time yet, so we need to be a bit patient.

Takaichi’s Gender ‘Takes a Backseat’ in Conservative Japan

How does PM Takaichi’s gender—combined with her rejection of feminist policy—function symbolically within a patriarchal political order? Is her leadership likely to reinforce or subtly reconfigure Japan’s gendered hierarchies of power?

Professor Axel Klein: If you look at Angela Merkel in Germany and Mrs. Thatcher in Britain, and the same is true for Mrs. Meloni in Italy, gender takes a backseat. The issue is not particularly relevant to these leaders. There are many other characteristics that matter more when trying to understand how they function and why they do what they do. And I think with Mrs. Takaichi it’s exactly the same. There may have been some naïve expectations among observers that, because Mrs. Takaichi is a woman, that alone would be reason enough for her to push issues like gender equality. But I’m afraid she may disappoint those expectations. She may instead show that Japan is not so much a patriarchal order as a very conservative one, dominated by people who have risen through the system and are willing to defend it against progressive ideas. And if you take that view, then you will see that the gender or sex of the leader isn’t really important.

Nostalgia, Not Populism, Defines Takaichi’s Leadership Style

In the comparative perspective you have applied to European and Asian populisms, how might we situate Takaichi’s brand of leadership alongside figures such as Giorgia Meloni or Marine Le Pen—female leaders who combine nationalist populism with anti-feminist discourse?

Professor Axel Klein: Let’s leave the question whether Mrs. Takaichi is a populist or not aside for the moment. First of all, she is someone who represents the wish to return to the good old days. And that, again, is indeed something that populists sometimes refer to. And when I say the good old days, I mean the time maybe in the 1980s, when Japan was economically really doing well, the 1970s, when it was economically growing, the 1960s, of course, when the LDP was still the dominant political force, running the country all by itself from 1955 to 1993, so almost four decades of LDP rule, and where everything seemed to be more predictable, stable.

And that was before, of course, there was political upheaval in Japan in the sense that other parties took over government, even though just for a very short period of time, but that created some instability. And then, of course, about 20–25 years ago, we had Prime Minister Koizumi, who introduced a number of neoliberal ideas and carried out major reforms. His key project was the privatization of the postal services. So if you are now a conservative leader who claims to protect the country and its people from many of these progressive, neoliberal ideas—also on a social level—you can argue that such reforms have made life more difficult for ordinary people.

What Mrs. Takaichi would probably refer to is more of what Abe Shinzo, former prime minister, referred to as beautiful Japan. He had this book published, he was the author, and he described a Japan that was a Japan of the good old days. Of course, Mrs. Takaichi also represents the hope of the LDP to return to that dominant position that the party was in 30 years ago.

‘Sanaenomics’ Is More PR Than Populism

Japan’s former Prime Minister Shinzo Abe. Photo: Dreamstime.

You have written extensively about the nexus between populist rhetoric and technocratic governance in Japan. How does PM Takaichi’s economic policy—her so-called “Sanaenomics”—use populist language of protection and prosperity while maintaining elite continuity within the LDP?

Professor Axel Klein: Mrs. Takaichi claims to revive Japan, which is something that a couple of prime ministers before her have also done. Reviving Japan—that’s more or less her slogan. Looking from the outside, and as you can see, I’m not a Japanese voter, I’ve always wondered who has actually been in power over the last 30 years, because the LDP has always claimed to know how to solve the crisis Japan is in. And most election campaigns over the last decades really looked a bit like this: there is a huge crisis, only we know how to deal with it. Don’t try any experiments, Mr. or Mrs. Voter. Choose the LDP, and we will take care of it.

But what the LDP has never addressed is the question: who is in charge? Who is responsible for this crisis? Isn’t the government of the day, or the governments of previous years, also responsible for what is happening? Yet the LDP has always portrayed the crisis as something coming from the outside, caused by external factors beyond its control.

So Mrs. Takaichi speaks to what is possibly the most important wish of voters, which is stability. That’s a term that comes up a lot in the LDP’s election campaigns. If you are looking for one red line running through all LDP governments over the last decades, it is this: stability, security, and, in a way, the promise of a carefree life. By the way, that’s what Mrs. Takaichi also emphasized in her speech in Parliament—that in order to stabilize politics, she agreed to form a coalition with the Japan Restoration Party or Japan Innovation Party, whichever English translation you prefer.

This is interesting because this coalition between the LDP and the Restoration Party does not even have a majority. They are one seat short. They don’t have a majority in the lower house, and they don’t have a majority in the upper house. So if you look at it closely, you may ask yourself: where is the stability?

Takaichi’s Economic Agenda Echoes Abenomics

But anyway, leaving that aside—Sanaenomics? To me, it’s like Abenomics. It’s a PR term that professional advertisers have come up with. It may be wise not to spend too much time discussing this, because we should judge or assess her performance as prime minister by what she does, not what she says. That is universally true. And I’m not an economist, so I don’t know whether there is some secret recipe behind what she says she wants to do as prime minister.

But in preparation for this conversation with you, I have a little quotation here from her speech, and please bear with me—I’ll read it, and then you’ll see what I’m driving at. Mrs. Takaichi said in Parliament: “We endeavor to raise incomes, transform people’s mindsets regarding consumption, and boost tax revenues without raising tax rates as business earnings increase, all in keeping with our approach of responsible and proactive public finances.”

So it’s a bet on economic growth that will pay more taxes or produce more tax revenue, and all of this will supposedly be driven by domestic consumption. If that is a viable option, I wonder why the LDP hasn’t done anything like this before. And it’s a bit like promising everything to everyone. So, again, maybe we shouldn’t look at what she has announced and what she has said, but wait for what she will actually do.

Takaichi’s Hard Line Plays Domestically but Complicates Diplomacy

Photo: Dreamstime.

How do you interpret PM Takaichi’s invocation of sovereignty and economic independence from China in the context of populist “economic nationalism”? Does it resonate domestically as protectionist populism, or as pragmatic geopolitics?

Professor Axel Klein: The relationship with China has always been difficult and on thin ice. It’s easily disturbed. Since 1999, when Komeito joined the LDP as a coalition partner, Komeito acted as a stabilizing factor. For several reasons, it has very close relations with China, and I remember a very tense period between the two countries when then Prime Minister Abe sent the leader of Komeito to Beijing to mend the relationship. But now that Komeito is no longer part of the coalition, options for communication between the two governments—sometimes even discreet, below-the-surface channels that are crucial in diplomacy—have become more limited.

Mrs. Takaichi has already provoked significant protests from China. We know about the Chinese diplomat who made an inappropriate remark about her, and we have seen the usual reaction in China, especially among the public, where people cancel flights to Japan and say they no longer want to visit. So, a remark meant to signal Japan’s stance toward Taiwan brought about all these consequences.

It may be that Mrs. Takaichi still has hawkish instincts that make it difficult for her to stay consistent in her foreign policy agenda. And if she cannot control these impulses, it will be difficult to achieve more harmonious relations with China. But this is not only because of her own views; it is also because China tends to react very strongly to such statements from foreign leaders.

‘Good Old Times’ Conservatism Drives Takaichi’s Moral Appeal

Takaichi’s rhetoric fuses anti-feminist appeals with nationalist morality. Does this align with the moral populism you’ve analyzed in Japan’s right-wing discourse—where the “moral majority” is mobilized against both foreign and liberal domestic elites?

Professor Axel Klein: That’s a very important question. Mrs. Takaichi, as I said before, represents the good old times. So she clearly doesn’t stand for a socially progressive agenda. The good old times also featured a very weak political left, sometimes none to speak of, and what is generally referred to as a convoy economy—where everyone in Japan, at least those who worked in certain industries and companies and their families, joined a national effort to grow the domestic economy. And that, of course, included women staying home to take care of the family and children, and the single breadwinner model, where husbands went out to work. Everyone was supposed to benefit from this arrangement. That was the general idea.

This convoy economy doesn’t exist anymore and hasn’t for quite some time. But it remains part of the nostalgic image people have of the good old days, and foreign influences and liberal forces are seen as obstacles to returning to that ideal. In the upper house election last July, we saw a right-wing party grow—Sanseito, which translates itself into English as the Do-It-Yourself Party. This refers to their idea: if there is no political party you like and want to support, then create one yourself. That was their basic message. They emerged out of the pandemic, with many people sitting at home in front of their computers, and the man who founded the party gathered enough support and followers on YouTube and other social media platforms. Then he—or they, since it wasn’t his work alone—created Sanseito.

‘Japanese First’ Spiral Pushes LDP Rightward

Poster for the Sanseito political party featuring its leader Sohei Kamiya and the slogan “Japanese First” in Tokyo, Japan on October 9, 2025: Photo: Hiroshi Mori.

But no one really cared about them at first. They had a supporter base of around 1.5 million people, which is a lot, but not enough to make decisive inroads into Japanese politics. In the lower house general election last October, they were not very successful; they had not much more than those 1.5 million supporters. But then in June this year, they started campaigning with the slogan “Japanese First.” Their agenda combined anti-liberal ideas and strong skepticism toward anything coming from abroad. And because “Japanese First” sounded like what Trump and his MAGA movement do with “America First,” the mass media picked up the story. And the mass media—and we’ve done research on this at my university—really were the ones who made Sanseito widely known.

Then you have this spiral, where the party is discussed in major newspapers and on TV, and foreign journalists also pick up the story: “Oh, finally, we have a right-wing populist party in Japan—the Sanseito—and they’re xenophobic, they don’t like foreigners.” You saw stories about tourists misbehaving, about people on social welfare without Japanese citizenship, etc. All of this reinforced itself. It was like a spiral that kept growing, and more and more people learned about Sanseito. By the upper house election last year, the result was that they gained far more seats than they would have with normal media coverage.

I think that frightened many people in the LDP. They thought a new force might overtake the LDP from the right, so they needed to move rightward to prevent that. That may have been another reason why not only Mrs. Takaichi was elected president of the LDP, but also why her policy agenda is now shifting the country further right than under Ishiba and previous prime ministers.

I don’t know if that will be enough to stop Sanseito. Sanseito, in my view, is a very immature party. It has many proposals that obviously do not work. And based on analyses of voter behavior, it seems many people who usually have little interest in politics saw a new party saying “Japanese First” and superficially liked the idea of a party that claimed it would take care of ordinary Japanese. They may not have taken it as a message against foreigners—only as a good idea: “Let’s take care of the ordinary Japanese, not big companies or banks or other elite groups,” which they think the LDP has favored for too long. And that’s why they voted for Sanseito.

But I’m not sure this success can be sustained. And I’m not very good at predicting the future, so I’ll leave it at that.

Confucian Norms Shape Japan’s Hesitation on Equality Policies

How do you assess the relationship between Japan’s deep-rooted Confucian patriarchy and the populist rejection of gender equality reforms, such as same-sex marriage or separate surnames?

Professor Axel Klein: That is a difficult question for me to answer. Since I’m in Germany, I often compare what is happening in Japan with developments here, and to a certain extent, I also look at other European countries. I observe how their societies evolve and how the legal frameworks governing these communities change. And every now and then, I’ve thought that Japan is following a similar trajectory—only, in some respects, it does so later than European countries. I don’t mean this as negative criticism; I’m simply saying that issues like the ones you raise—same-sex marriage and separate surnames—will probably eventually come.

I think Japan will, at some point, pass legislation allowing same-sex marriage, and it will also change the family-name system, but it will take a little longer. And again, I don’t know whether that is good or bad. I have a personal opinion, of course, but from an academic perspective, all I can really say is that the process takes more time. Currently, couples in Japan do have the option, when they marry, to choose which of the two family names—the husband’s or the wife’s—will become the family name. But I can clearly see why this is not sufficient for people with established careers or simply those who want to keep their own names.

I think pressure within Japanese society is building to the point where these reforms will happen, and even a prime minister like Mrs. Takaichi will not be able to prevent them.

Moral Populism in Japan Runs on Sentiment, Not Structure

A right-wing speaker delivers a public address in the Asakusa district in Tokyo, Japan on December 27, 2015. Though small in number, Japan’s right-wing groups are known for highly visible demonstrations. Photo: Sean Pavone.

To what extent is her moral populism driven by affective nostalgia—an emotional politics of loss centered on family, nation, and purity—rather than coherent ideological reasoning?

Professor Axel Klein: Very much so. As I said before, I think she speaks to a desire felt by many—especially those from their fifties onward, the senior citizens of Japan. There is this idea that in the old days things were better, and objectively, consumer prices, for example, were much lower than they are now. And I think we observe this in many countries: people seem increasingly overwhelmed by the complexities of contemporary life, and many wish to return to how things were 30 or 40 years ago. Of course, there is a great deal of nostalgia in this, and life may not actually have been as easy then as some remember it today.

But it is this deep-rooted longing that Mrs. Takaichi is drawing on, just as Abe did. It’s a kind of promise that cannot really be fulfilled—you can’t turn back time. But I agree: I would rather try to explain Mrs. Takaichi’s policies from this perspective than from any coherent ideological reasoning.

Youth Apathy, Not Populism, Is Japan’s Democratic Weak Point

And lastly, Professor Klein, from your long-term perspective on Japan’s democratic institutions, do you see Takaichi’s populist conservatism as a stabilizing corrective within Japan’s party system—or as a potential source of democratic backsliding under the guise of moral renewal?

Professor Axel Klein: Let me answer that with a question first. Where does Japan slide back to? You may ask how democratic a state can be when it has been run by one dominant party for 65 of the last 70 years. We cannot ignore the fact that Japan’s democracy, even though it is the oldest in Asia, is in this respect quite different from other industrialized countries you might use for comparison. For 65 of the last 70 years, the LDP has been in power, and for most of that time it has governed alone. And when it didn’t, it usually had just one coalition partner.

So, that’s one important characteristic of Japanese democracy. A second is that Japanese voters are overwhelmingly conservative. This is reinforced by the enormous disinterest of young people in politics. Voter turnout among those under 30 is a little over 30%, meaning that two-thirds of young people do not vote. This is a remarkably high number. I actually consider it a disaster for a democracy. You need to get young people involved and interested. I think young people in Japan are not taught what it means to be politically active, what it means to vote. And then, of course, when they grow older, they realize that many things they encounter in daily life—rules, taxes, regulations—are being decided somewhere, and they are being decided by the government. So they should get involved in politics.

I have many Japanese exchange students in my courses here at my university, and it is really frustrating to see how little they care about Japanese politics and how little they know. So my point is this: if young people are so disengaged, and senior citizens want stability and safety, and politics that promise a carefree life, then national politicians may feel they can pursue this moral renewal. But I don’t think voters care much about these ideas. What they care about right now are other problems. High consumer prices, as in most countries. The price of rice is a very symbolic issue that affects everyone in Japan.

And returning to what I said earlier, when you hear what Mrs. Takaichi has said in Parliament about how she intends to tackle these problems, I’m very curious to see whether she will succeed—because personally, I have my doubts.

A man sits in the dark, staring angrily at his mobile phone. Photo: Raman Mistsechka.

Discursive Violence and Moral Repair: The Promise and Limits of Non-Violent Communication Against Populism

DOWNLOAD ARTICLE

Please cite as:

Ozturk, Ibrahim & Fritsch, Claudia. (2025). “Discursive Violence and Moral Repair: The Promise and Limits of Non-Violent Communication Against Populism.” Populism & Politics (P&P). European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). November 19, 2025.  https://doi.org/10.55271/pp0051

 

Abstract

Marking the hundredth anniversary of fascism’s rise in Europe, this article explores the recent resurgence of authoritarian populism—now deeply embedded within democracies and intensified by digital technologies. It investigates how populist actors use emotionally manipulative and polarizing rhetoric, especially on social media, to diminish empathy, increase affective polarization, and weaken public discourse. Using Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication (NVC) framework, we see populist messaging as a form of discursive violence rooted in blame, moral absolutism, and dehumanization. Conversely, NVC offers a principled way of communicating based on observation, emotional awareness, shared human needs, and compassionate dialogue. Drawing on insights from political communication, discourse analysis, and moral psychology—including moral foundations theory and digital polarization studies—the article examines NVC’s potential as both an interpretive tool and a dialogical intervention. It also discusses important limitations of NVC in adversarial digital environments, such as asymmetrical intent, scalability issues, and the risk of moral equivocation. Ultimately, the article advocates for NVC-informed strategies to restore respectful, empathetic, and authentic free expression amid rising populist manipulation.

Keywords: Authoritarian Populism, Discursive Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Affective Polarization, Nonviolent Communication (NVC), Compassionate Dialogue, Moral Foundations Theory, Digital Polarization, Dehumanization, Moral Equivocation, Scalability Challenge

 

By Ibrahim Ozturk & Claudia Fritsch*

Introduction

Populist political movements have surged in recent years, characterized by a style of communication that many observers deem manipulative, polarizing, and emotionally charged. Populist rhetoric typically divides society into a virtuous “people” and a corrupt “elite,” conveying simplistic, us-versus-them narratives while often scapegoating minority groups or outsiders (Engesser et al., 2017). Messages from populist leaders are usually delivered in stark, moralistic terms (e.g., “with us or against us”) and strategically tap into emotions such as anger, fear, and resentment to mobilize support. Indeed, scholars note that populist discourse often employs a “manipulation strategy” that exploits emotions to the detriment of rational political considerations (Charaudeau, 2009). This is especially evident on social media, where algorithm-driven amplification rewards sensational and emotionally charged content, providing populist communicators with an ideal channel to disseminate their messages unfiltered. These trends challenge democratic discourse: How can society counter manipulative and divisive communication without resorting to censorship, instead fostering genuine and constructive dialogue?

This article examines Marshall Rosenberg’s framework of Nonviolent Communication (NVC) as a potential remedy to populist, manipulative discourse. NVC, rooted in principles of empathy, honest expression, and mutual understanding, provides a communication model that starkly contrasts with the populist approach of emotional manipulation and scapegoating. By analyzing insights from political communication, critical discourse analysis, psychology, and digital media studies, we will explain how populist strategies operate on social media and how Rosenberg’s NVC might help protect public discourse against them. We include empirical findings, such as studies of Twitter and Facebook rhetoric, to demonstrate populism’s emotional and divisive tactics. We also explore related psychological theories—from moral foundations to affective polarization—to strengthen the theoretical foundation. Furthermore, we address the limitations and critiques of applying NVC in the complex online populism landscape, including concerns about scalability, bad-faith actors, and the potential for moral neutrality. Ultimately, the aim is to promote a “truly free expression” online—not in the sense of unchecked abuse or propaganda, but a space where citizens can engage honestly without fear, manipulation, or dehumanization—an environment NVC strives to foster.

The article is organized as follows. Section 2 establishes the theoretical framework, beginning with an analysis of populist communication in the digital age and its emotionally manipulative strategies, followed by an in-depth discussion of Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication (NVC) model and its foundational principles, and concluding with relevant psychological theories that explain the emotional and moral mechanisms underlying populist appeal, as well as the potential of NVC to address them. Section 3 synthesizes these insights to evaluate how NVC might serve as a discursive counterstrategy to populist manipulation, particularly in online contexts. Section 4 then critically examines the practical challenges and limitations of applying NVC against populist rhetoric, including issues of scalability, asymmetric intent, moral ambiguity, and evidentiary support. Finally, Section 5 concludes by reflecting on the promise and limits of NVC as a communicative antidote to rising authoritarian populism, while offering directions for future research, policy, and civic engagement.

Theoretical Framework

Populist Communication in the Digital Age: Manipulative Strategies and Emotional Appeals

Liberal democracy is facing legitimacy problems due to post-politics, post-democracy, and post-truth dynamics. Populism exploits emotional deficits and distrust in institutions, while digital media amplify fragmentation and emotional escalation (Schenk, 2024). Democracy generates emotional deficits such as individualism and isolation, which foster the rise of “soft despotism” (Helfritzsch & Müller Hipper, 2024). Populist actors exploit these emotional deficits—such as frustration, fear, and mistrust—for mobilization. 

Populism is often seen as a thin-centered ideology or style that pits “the pure people” against “the corrupt elite,” arguing that politics should prioritize the will of ordinary people above all else (Engesser et al., 2017). While populist movements exist across the political spectrum, their communication styles tend to follow common patterns. Research in political communication and discourse analysis reveals that populist actors tend to favor simple, colloquial language and binary framing over nuanced expressions (Engesser et al., 2017). Complex issues are often reduced to black-and-white narratives – for example, “you are either with us or part of the problem” – which reinforces in-group/out-group divisions. This kind of dichotomous framing is further supported by frequent use of stereotypes and sometimes vulgar or insulting language aimed at perceived “enemies,” all to dramatize the threat posed by “the elite” or out-groups. Critical discourse analysts observe that this mode of communication intentionally dehumanizes opponents and criminalizes certain groups, rallying the base while dismissing dissenting voices as illegitimate or evil.

A key feature of populist communication is its emotional strength. Populist leaders intentionally appeal to negative feelings—especially fear, anger, and resentment—to rally support and direct public anger toward specific targets. For example, a content analysis of thousands of Twitter messages by European populist parties found that “fear, uncertainty, or resentment are the emotions most frequently used” by these actors (Alonso-Muñoz & Casero-Ripollés, 2023). In those social media messages, negative emotional language (expressing threat, crisis, outrage) was closely linked to references to out-groups or “corrupt authorities,” while positive emotions (such as pride or hope) were generally reserved for the in-group—celebrating “the people” or portraying the populist leader as the savior (Alonso-Muñoz & Casero-Ripollés, 2023). This supports comparative research that suggests populists intentionally stir public anger and fear to rally their supporters. By emphasizing a sense of crisis and victimhood (e.g., depicting society as on the verge of collapse or “invaded” by outsiders), populist rhetoric creates a sense of urgency and danger where extreme actions seem justified. Charaudeau (2009) noted that populist discourse “plays with emotions to the detriment of political reason,” appealing to visceral feelings rather than critical thinking.

The rise of social media has intensified these manipulative techniques. Digital platforms like Twitter and Facebook allow populist politicians to bypass traditional media gatekeepers and connect directly with audiences. In this context, Pörksen (2018) speaks of a weakening of traditional gatekeepers (e.g., journalists) in favor of invisible agents of information filtering and distribution (Pörksen, 2018: 71). Studies show that populists eagerly utilize the features of social media for unfiltered self-promotion and aggressive opposition against opponents (Engesser et al., 2017). They control the online narrative by constantly pumping out simple, emotionally charged messages—attacks on “enemies” and triumphant praise of their own movement. Algorithms, in turn, tend to boost posts that provoke strong reactions. Posts that evoke moral outrage or fear often achieve higher engagement and spread quickly within and across networks (Brady et al., 2017). False or misleading information may also travel farther and faster when presented in dramatic, emotional terms, as shown by studies on the viral spread of conspiracy theories and “fake news” that tap into users’ anxieties. The result is a digital public sphere filled with provocative soundbites that reinforce tribal loyalties and drown out nuance.

Empirical research highlights how these dynamics promote polarization. Recent studies show that platforms like TikTok use algorithms that reinforce emotionally charged and extremist content, leading users—especially youth—into echo chambers that normalize hate and misinformation (FAZ Dossier, 2025: 16–18). This supports the notion that discursive violence is not only rhetorical but structurally embedded in digital systems. The FAZ Dossier highlights how social media platforms are increasingly abandoning traditional moderation in favor of user-driven models, such as ‘Community Notes,’ which may fail to prevent the viral spread of misinformation (FAZ Dossier, 2025: 21–22). This shift underscores the urgency of promoting ethical communication frameworks like NVC. 

A panel study on political social media use found that active engagement—such as regularly sharing, commenting, or posting political content—is linked to increased affective polarization, meaning a stronger dislike of opposing groups. In contrast, passive news consumption or simply scrolling showed no such effect (Matthes et al., 2023). This indicates that the communication style prevalent on social media, not just the content, deepens divisions. Populist communicators, with their emotionally charged and confrontational style, effectively draw followers into a constant online “us vs. them” battle that boosts in-group loyalty while fostering hostility toward outsiders. Over time, these communication patterns can normalize incivility and diminish empathy, as opponents become caricatures or enemies, and “winning” an argument takes precedence over seeking a shared truth. In this environment, the concept of free expression becomes compromised. Although it may seem that everyone can speak on social media, many voices are silenced or self-censored in the toxic atmosphere. Harassment and aggressive attacks—often launched by populist supporters against critics or minority groups—create a chilling effect on free speech, causing targeted individuals to withdraw out of fear of abuse (Amnesty International, 2020). Truly free expression involves an environment where people can share opinions and fact-based rebuttals without being drowned out by intimidation or deception. 

Combating populism’s manipulative communication requires not only fact-checking or content moderation but also a cultural shift in how we communicate—moving from hostility and propaganda toward empathy and honesty. Groeben & Christmann (2023) emphasize that fair argumentation—defined by integrity, rationality, and cooperativity—can serve as a bulwark against social discord and democratic erosion. This aligns closely with Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication (NVC), which seeks to replace adversarial rhetoric with empathetic dialogue. This is where Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication framework offers a promising solution.

Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication (NVC): Principles and Aims

Marshall B. Rosenberg (2003)’s Nonviolent Communication (NVC) is a communication methodology rooted in compassion, empathy, and authenticity. Initially developed in the 1960s and 1970s, and elaborated in Rosenberg’s seminal work, Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life (2003), NVC emerged from a confluence of humanistic psychology (influenced by Carl Rogers’ client-centered therapy), Gandhian nonviolence principles, and practical conflict resolution techniques. At its core, NVC seeks to transform how we relate to one another by replacing habitual patterns of blaming, coercing, or criticizing with a language of feelings and needs. Rosenberg observed that adversarial or judgmental language often provokes defensiveness and disconnection, whereas empathic communication fosters trust and cooperation. NVC aims to enable honest self-expression and respectful listening so that all parties’ underlying human needs can be acknowledged and met through creative, collaborative solutions. NVC is often taught through a structured four-component model that guides individuals to communicate with clarity and empathy (Rosenberg, 2003):

Observation (without evaluation): Describe the concrete facts or actions you observe, without adding any judgment or generalization. For example, instead of saying “You are spreading lies,” one might say “I read the post where you stated X about immigrants.” The goal is to establish a neutral starting point based on observable reality. By separating observation from evaluation, we avoid language that could trigger defensiveness and set a calmer stage for discussion. (As one NVC practitioner notes, rather than “You’re misinformed,” say “I read an article that claims XYZ,” which opens curiosity instead of conflict.)

Feelings: State one’s own emotional response to the observation or attempt to recognize the other person’s feelings. This step involves a vocabulary of emotions (e.g., “I feel frustrated and concerned when I see that claim.”). Importantly, NVC encourages taking ownership of one’s feelings rather than blaming others for them. It also invites empathic guessing of the other’s feelings, demonstrating that one is trying to understand their emotional experience. For instance, “It sounds like you’re feeling afraid and angry about the economic situation.” Naming feelings – both one’s own and the other’s – helps humanize the interaction; instead of two opposing positions, there are two human beings with emotional lives.

Needs: Behind every feeling, according to NVC, lies a human need that is met or unmet. This step articulates the deeper needs or values connected to the feelings. Rosenberg’s approach assumes a universal set of human needs (such as safety, respect, autonomy, belonging, justice, etc.) that motivate our actions. For example: “I need our community to be safe and economically secure, and I guess you also need security and recognition for your work.” In conflict, parties’ strategies may clash, but at the level of fundamental needs, there is potential for common ground. By voicing the needs, we shift attention from personal attacks to the underlying concerns that matter to everyone. Crucially, guessing the other person’s needs (with humility, not presumption) can defuse tension: “Maybe the person sharing a conspiracy theory has an unmet need for understanding or control amid uncertainty.” This does not justify false or harmful statements, but it frames them as tragically misguided attempts to meet legitimate human needs. Such reframing opens the door to compassion: we can condemn the harmful strategy while still acknowledging the human need that drives it.

Request: Finally, NVC suggests making a concrete, positive request that aims to address the needs identified, inviting collaboration. A request is not a demand; the other person should have the freedom to say no or propose an alternative. For example: “Would you be willing to look at this data together and see if it addresses your concerns about jobs being lost?” or “Can we both agree to verify claims from now on before sharing them?” The idea is to foster mutual problem-solving. In a successful NVC exchange, the request emerges naturally after empathy has been established: once both sides feel heard at the level of needs, they are more open to finding a solution that works for all. Requests in NVC are straightforward, doable, and tied to the speaker’s needs – e.g., “I’d like us to have a respectful conversation without name-calling,” rather than a vague “Stop being wrong.” This collaborative tone contrasts with the coercive or zero-sum approach often seen in polarized debates (Kohn, 1990).

Underpinning these four components is an intention of empathy and mutual respect. NVC is often described as a mindset or heart-set as much as a communication technique. It requires genuinely caring about understanding the other’s perspective and honestly expressing one’s own truth. Rosenberg emphasized that NVC is not about being “nice” or avoiding conflict, but about engaging authentically without aggression or contempt. One can still disagree strongly and even confront injustice using NVC, but the confrontation targets the issue or behavior in factual terms, rather than attacking the person’s character. For example, an NVC-informed response to hate speech might be: “When I hear you say, ‘X group is ruining our country,’ I feel alarmed and sad, because I deeply value equality and safety for all people. Would you be willing to tell me what concerns lead you to feel this way? I’d like to understand and then share my perspective too.” This response does not condone the hateful statement; rather, it calls it out as concerning yet invites the person to reveal the fears or needs behind their claim. It keeps the door open for dialogue and potential transformation.

In summary, NVC provides a framework for non-manipulative, compassionately honest communication. Instead of dueling monologues aimed at scoring points (or riling up emotions), NVC calls for dialogue aimed at mutual understanding. This orientation directly challenges the populist communication style: where populism leverages blame and anger, NVC emphasizes empathy and curiosity; where populism simplifies and demonizes, NVC humanizes and searches for underlying concerns; where populism’s goal is to mobilize a base against an enemy, NVC’s goal is to connect people to each other’s humanity and find solutions that address everyone’s needs. But can such an approach gain traction in the rough-and-tumble world of social media and political tribalism? To explore that, we now consider how NVC’s principles intersect with findings from psychology—and whether they might help counter the psychological underpinnings of populist appeal.

Emotional and Moral Underpinnings: A Psychological Perspective

The contrast between populist rhetoric and NVC can be further understood through psychological theories of emotion, morality, and intergroup conflict. Moral Foundations Theory, for instance, sheds light on why populist messaging is so potent at a gut level. Jonathan Haidt and colleagues’ theory proposes that human moral reasoning is built on intuitive foundations such as care/harm, fairness/cheating, loyalty/betrayal, authority/subversion, and sanctity/degradation (with liberty/oppression sometimes added) (Haidt, 2012). Different political or cultural groups emphasize different foundations. Populist movements (especially right-wing variants) often appeal heavily to foundations of loyalty (e.g., patriotism, defending the in-group), authority (respect for a strong leader who will restore order), and sanctity (protecting the nation’s purity or traditional values), alongside a narrative of betrayal by elites (violating fairness or loyalty) and oppression of the common people by those in power. These moral appeals trigger deep emotional responses: outrage at the corrupt elite (those who violate fairness), fear and disgust toward perceived outsiders (those who violate sanctity or security), and righteous anger that the “true people” are not being respected (violations of loyalty or authority structures). In short, populist communication succeeds by activating moral intuitions that resonate strongly with its audience’s identity and worldview. Once activated, these moral-emotional responses can bypass deliberative reasoning—the audience’s intuitive “elephant” charges ahead before the rational “rider” catches up (Haidt, 2012).

How does NVC engage with this moral-emotional landscape? Notably, NVC deliberately avoids language of good vs. evil or us vs. them that maps onto those divisive moral foundations. Instead, it appeals to universal human needs, which might be thought of as underlying the moral foundations but not tied to any one ideology. For example, rather than arguing on the level of “your loyalty to group X is misplaced,” an NVC approach would dig into why loyalty to X matters – perhaps the need for belonging, identity, or security. Those needs are human universals, even if their expressions differ. In practice, this means an NVC-inspired dialogue might sidestep the usual triggers of partisan defensiveness. A populist supporter fulminating about “protecting our country’s purity from outsiders” is clearly operating within a sanctity/loyalty moral frame. Confronting them head-on (“That’s racist and wrong!”) will likely provoke an ego-defensive reaction or even deeper entrenchment – their moral foundations feel attacked. By contrast, an NVC-informed response might be: “It sounds like you’re really worried about our community’s safety and continuity. I also care about safety – that’s a basic need we all share. Can we talk about what specifically feels threatening to you, and how we might address that concern without harming innocent people?” This kind of response implicitly acknowledges the moral concern (safety, stability) but reframes it as a shared need rather than an us–them battle. It also avoids validating any factual falsehoods or bigotry – there is no agreement that “outsiders are ruining us,” only an attempt to hear the fear beneath that statement. In doing so, NVC may help to disarm the moral intensity that populist rhetoric exploits, channeling it into a conversation about needs and solutions that includes all stakeholders’ humanity.

Another relevant psychological concept is affective polarization, which is the mutual dislike and distrust between opposing political camps. Populist communication, with its demonization of “others,” greatly exacerbates affective polarization – followers are encouraged not only to disagree with opponents, but to actively hate and fear them. As discussed, social media echo chambers further reinforce this by rewarding strident partisan content. Affective polarization is partly fueled by what psychologists call ego-involvement or identity threat. When political viewpoints become deeply tied to one’s identity and sense of self-worth, any challenge to those viewpoints feels like a personal attack or an existential threat to one’s ego. Populist narratives often heighten this effect by framing politics as an existential battle to save one’s way of life or group. In such a charged context, facts and logic alone rarely persuade – people will reject information that contradicts their group narrative because accepting it would threaten their identity (a phenomenon related to confirmation bias and motivated reasoning). Here, NVC’s emphasis on empathy and non-judgmental dialogue can mitigate ego threat. 

By explicitly removing blame and personal attacks from the equation, NVC creates a safer psychological space for discussion. As one expert notes, “People don’t change their beliefs when judged and told they’re stupid or misinformed. That just shuts them down… Focusing on feelings and needs – showing human care – helps the other person be more open to a different perspective” (Seid, 2023). In essence, NVC tries to lower the defenses that come from feeling one’s identity is under siege. By first demonstrating understanding (“I hear that you’re really worried, and you value honesty in politics,”) we signal that we are not out to humiliate or annihilate the other person’s identity, which often de-escalates the confrontation. This approach aligns with conflict psychology findings that acknowledging the other side’s emotions can reduce perceived threat and open the door to persuasion. There is even emerging evidence that encouraging empathy across party lines can reduce affective polarization. One study found that when people were led to believe empathy is a strength rather than a weakness, they showed a greater willingness to engage constructively and less partisan animosity. NVC cultivates exactly this stance, treating empathy as a powerful tool rather than a concession.

A related factor is the role of ego and face-saving in public exchanges. On social media, debates often devolve into performative contests where each side seeks to “win” and save face in front of their audience. Admitting error or changing one’s view under those conditions is rare because it can feel humiliating. NVC’s philosophy addresses this by focusing on observations and personal feelings/needs instead of accusations. This minimizes the threat to the other person’s ego. For example, saying “I felt hurt when I read your comment” is less face-threatening than “Your comment was ignorant.” The former invites the person to consider your perspective without directly attacking their integrity. Over time, such small differences in phrasing and approach can create a climate where dialogue is possible without each participant staking their ego on rigid positions.

Lastly, consider the element of emotional regulation. From a psychoanalytic perspective, destructive populism operates through a perversion of the psychological function of containing: instead of processing and detoxifying destructive emotions, it amplifies and idealizes them. Democratic structures lose their capacity to absorb and transform aggression, resulting in escalating cycles of emotional escalation. Populist dynamics trigger a regression to a so-called “paranoid-schizoid mental state,” characterized by splitting, projection, and idealization. This undermines the integrative capacity of a democratic society and fosters black-and-white thinking and scapegoating. A symbiotic-destructive fit emerges between populist leaders and their followers, based on destructive narcissism. This relationship is sustained through continuous emotional escalation and mutual reinforcement of omnipotent fantasies. (Zienert-Eilts, 2020)

Populist content deliberately raises the emotional temperature – outrage, fear, and indignation are stoked because they drive engagement. NVC, by contrast, implicitly encourages slowing down and recognizing emotions rather than being driven by them impulsively. In practicing NVC, one learns to self-connect (“What am I feeling? What need is causing that feeling?”), which can prevent reactive outbursts. This self-empathy is crucial online: taking a moment to name “I’m furious at this tweet because I need honesty in our leaders” can prevent firing back an insult. It’s a form of emotional intelligence that could dampen the cycle of provocation and counter-provocation that populists rely on to keep issues inflamed. Indeed, the NVC approach to handling misinformation or extremist remarks often starts with self-empathy and calming oneself before engaging. Only then can one approach the other with genuine curiosity, rather than reactive rage. This emotional self-regulation aspect aligns with broader psychological research suggesting that interventions which reduce emotional arousal (like mindfulness or perspective-taking exercises) can facilitate more rational discussion even on contentious topics. By integrating these psychological insights, we see that NVC is not a naïve “just be nice” formula, but rather a strategy that operates on well-founded principles of human emotion and cognition: it seeks to redirect moral passion toward understanding, reduce ego defensiveness, and replace high-arousal anger with mindful dialogue.

NVC as an Antidote to Manipulative Populist Discourse

Having outlined both the nature of populist communication and the fundamentals of Nonviolent Communication, we can now draw the connections more explicitly: How could NVC serve as an antidote or counterstrategy to manipulative populist discourse, especially on social media?

First, consider the content level of communication. Populist manipulative discourse thrives on misinformation and oversimplification—sweeping claims that blame social ills on targeted groups or opponents (e.g., “The immigrants are stealing your jobs” or “The media always lies to you,”). An NVC-informed approach to countering such messages would not simply retort with facts (though fact-checking is important); instead, it would reframe the conversation around the underlying issues and needs. For example, instead of trading barbs about whether immigrants are “good” or “bad,” an NVC counter-discourse would probe: “What is the fear or hardship driving this anger toward immigrants? Is it economic insecurity? Lack of trust in the system? Let’s address that.” By doing so, it deactivates the scapegoating narrative. The focus shifts to the real causes of suffering (such as job loss due to automation or inequality) and the real needs (stable employment, community safety) that demagogic slogans have oversimplified or obscured. NVC’s emphasis on observations and needs can cut through propaganda by continually steering the discussion back to concrete reality and human concerns. It’s harder for manipulative rhetoric to take root when the audience is trained to ask, “What is the speaker feeling and needing? What am I feeling and needing?” This critical yet compassionate stance inoculates people against being swept away by slogans, as they learn to listen beneath the surface message. In fact, educational programs in media literacy and conflict resolution sometimes incorporate NVC principles to help students detect when language is manipulative or inflammatory, and to respond by seeking clarification and shared concerns rather than reacting in kind. By promoting habits of pausing and reflecting on needs, NVC serves as a kind of cognitive vaccine against disinformation and emotional manipulation.

Second, at the relational level, NVC aims to humanize the “other” and break down the us-versus-them mindset that populists promote. Populist leaders often explicitly dehumanize their opponents or scapegoats, calling them animals, traitors, or criminals—language that morally disengages their followers from feeling any empathy toward those targets. This dehumanization is a common precursor to verbal (or even physical) violence. NVC directly counters this by emphasizing the humanity of everyone involved. Practitioners of NVC seek to “attend to the humanity of everybody involved,” even while standing up to hate speech (Seid, 2023). In practical terms, this could mean that when faced with a hate-filled comment online, an NVC practitioner might respond with empathy (e.g., “It sounds like you’re really angry and hurting; I want to understand what’s behind that feeling”) rather than with an insult. This approach serves two purposes: it demonstrates to onlookers that the targeted person is not responding with hate (thus preserving their dignity and disproving the aggressor’s caricature), and it can sometimes surprise the aggressor into a more genuine conversation. There are anecdotal accounts of social media users successfully de-escalating trolls or bigoted commenters by responding with unexpected kindness or curiosity—tactics that align very much with NVC philosophy. Conversely, meeting fire with fire on social media (though understandable) often reinforces each side’s negative stereotypes. Therefore, NVC offers a toolkit for those who want to engage persuasively rather than resort to name-calling, helping to reduce the vicious cycle of escalating rhetoric.

Furthermore, NVC offers a mode of discourse that could help redefine what “free expression” entails on social media. The phrase “truly free expression” in this context suggests that current online discourse, though nominally free, is constrained by toxicity and manipulation. In an NVC-inspired vision, free expression would not merely mean anyone can post anything (the status quo, which often leads to harassment and misinformation). Rather, it implies a communication culture where individuals feel free to speak authentically—expressing their real feelings and needs—without fear of being attacked or cynically manipulated. Paradoxically, when populists weaponize “free speech,” the result is often less freedom for vulnerable voices (who are bullied into silence) and a polluted information environment that hampers everyone’s ability to speak truth. NVC can be seen as a remedy to this, encouraging norms of respectful listening and speaking that make it safer for all voices to be heard. 

For example, an online forum moderated with NVC principles might encourage users to phrase disagreements in terms of “I” statements about their own feelings and needs, rather than accusatory “you” statements. Over time, this could foster trust even among users with divergent views, because they see that expressing an opinion won’t result in immediate personal attacks. In short, NVC aligns freedom of expression with responsibility of expression – the idea that we are free to say what we want, but we choose to do so in a way that acknowledges the humanity and dignity of others. This resonates with long-standing arguments that a healthy public sphere requires norms of civility and empathy to truly function in the common good, not just to maximize individual liberty to offend. 

It is worth highlighting some concrete examples where a more nonviolent style of communication has made a difference. For instance, experimental studies in political psychology have shown that framing issues in terms of the other side’s moral values or shared human experiences can reduce polarization. One study found that when liberals and conservatives each reframed their arguments to appeal to the other side’s core values (e.g., arguing for environmental protection in terms of patriotism and purity of nature, rather than purely in terms of care/harm), persuasion increased significantly. This principle is akin to NVC’s approach of finding a need that underlies both sides’ concerns. Another example is dialogue programs that bring together people from opposite sides of contentious issues (such as abortion and gun control) in carefully facilitated conversations. Those programs, often inspired by empathic communication techniques like NVC, report that participants come away with reduced animosity and often find unexpected points of agreement or at least understanding. Similarly, on social media, initiatives like #ListenFirst or certain depolarization groups encourage users to practice reflective listening in comment threads. These micro-level efforts align with NVC’s core tenets and have shown anecdotal success in de-escalating what would otherwise be inflamed shouting matches. 

From a critical discourse analysis standpoint, introducing NVC into social media discourse could also be seen as a form of discursive resistance. Instead of allowing populist demagogues to set the terms of debate (with their loaded language and fear-driven frames), citizens trained in NVC can subtly shift the discourse. For example, when a populist tweet declares “Group X is the enemy of the people!” an NVC-informed counter-message might redirect the focus: “I hear anger and a longing for fairness. How can we ensure everyone’s needs are considered without blaming one group?” This kind of response doesn’t directly confront the claim on its face (which might be futile with committed partisans), but it introduces an alternative narrative centered on inclusivity and understanding. If enough voices respond in that vein, the public narrative gains complexity – it’s no longer a one-note story of blame; it’s also a story about empathy and problem-solving. In the long run, such discourse could erode the appeal of purely manipulative messages, as people see a path to address grievances without vilifying others.

Challenges and Critiques: Can NVC Work Against Online Populism?

Scalability and Context

NVC was initially conceived for interpersonal or small-group communication – for example, mediating between individuals in conflict or fostering understanding in workshops. The online world of mass communication and rapid-fire posts is a very different context. One critique is whether the painstaking, time-consuming process of empathetic dialogue can be scaled to thousands or millions of people interacting on social platforms. Engaging even one hostile commenter with genuine NVC empathy can demand patience and emotional labor; doing this across an entire “troll army” or deeply polarized forum might seem infeasible. 

Furthermore, text-based social media strips away tone and nonverbal cues, which are essential for conveying empathy. Without face-to-face interaction, attempts at NVC might be misinterpreted. In essence, can the NVC approach survive the chaotic, decontextualized, high-speed environment of Twitter or Facebook? Some suggest that for NVC to be scalable online, platforms would need to support it structurally – for instance, by providing guided prompts that encourage users to reflect (“What are you feeling? What do you need?”)before posting, or by highlighting posts that exemplify constructive communication. Such design changes are speculative and have not been widely implemented. Thus, in the current setup, NVC practitioners will likely find themselves swimming against a strong current of algorithmic and social incentives that favor short, incendiary content over thoughtful dialogue. This doesn’t invalidate NVC, but any realistic strategy must pair NVC with broader reforms (e.g., digital literacy education, platform moderation policies, community norms) to have a large-scale impact.

Asymmetry of Intentions

Another limitation arises from the imbalance between sincere dialogue seekers and manipulative actors. NVC assumes a baseline of goodwill – that if one expresses honestly and listens empathically, the other might do the same. But what if certain populist communicators (or their digital foot soldiers) have no interest in good-faith dialogue? Many populist leaders are adept propagandists who might see empathetic outreach as a weakness to exploit, rather than reciprocate. In online spaces, coordinated troll campaigns or extremist groups may deliberately feign personal grievances just to hijack the conversation. Engaging them with empathy might not always defuse their agenda; it could even provide more attention or a veneer of legitimacy to their hateful ideas if not handled carefully. Critics argue that NVC could be naïvely ineffective in such cases – akin to “bringing a knife to a gunfight,” or worse, bringing an open heart to a knife fight. It’s a genuine concern that must temper our expectations: NVC is not a magic wand that transforms every interaction, and some actors will simply not respond in kind. 

Advocates of NVC counter that even if die-hard extremists or trolls do not change, empathic engagement can still have positive effects on the wider audience. A compassionate response to hate speech, for example, might not convert the hater, but it shows bystanders an alternative to hate, potentially preventing the spread of toxicity. Also, NVC does not forbid setting boundaries. Rosenberg himself clarified that NVC is not about being permissive or a “doormat.” One can combine NVC with firm resistance – for instance, empathizing with someone’s anger while refusing to allow abuse in a discussion (Seid, 2023). In extreme cases, protective actions (like moderation, muting, or even legal measures) are necessary; NVC distinguishes the protective use of force (to prevent harm) from punitive or retributive force. Thus, while NVC urges understanding the unmet needs driving even hateful behavior, it does not require tolerating harm or giving manipulators endless platforms. The key is to try nonviolence first, and resort to stricter measures if dialogue truly fails or safety is at risk.

Accusations of Moral Equivalence or Neutrality

A nuanced critique comes from activists and scholars who worry that the ethos of NVC – in avoiding judgmental labels like “right” and “wrong” – might slide into an amoral stance that equates oppressor and oppressed. For example, if an immigrant-rights advocate uses NVC to dialogue with a xenophobic populist, some might accuse them of “normalizing hate” or not firmly condemning a harmful ideology. There is a tension here between empathy and justice: how do we empathize with a person’s feelings and needs without appearing to excuse or legitimize dangerous beliefs? Rosenberg’s approach would say we never excuse harmful actions – rather, we separate the person (who has human needs) from their action or belief (which we can vehemently disagree with). As NVC educators emphasize, “this is in no way to excuse or condone behaviors that hurt others!” (Seid, 2023). 

It is possible to hold someone accountable while treating them as a human being. Yet, in the public sphere, this nuance can be lost, and there is a risk that calls for empathy are misused to downplay the legitimate grievances of victims. NVC practitioners must be mindful of power dynamics: empathy should flow in all directions, but it must not become a tool to silence the less powerful by constantly demanding they empathize with their abusers. In practical terms, applying NVC in the populism context means walking a fine line – empathizing with, say, the economic anxieties that might fuel racist populism, without validating the racism. Some critics from feminist and anti-racist perspectives have pointed out that telling marginalized people to use NVC toward those who harm them can come off as tone-policing or burden-shifting (i.e., putting the onus on the targets of harassment to be “more understanding”). 

This critique is important: any advocacy of NVC in the populist context should clarify that NVC is voluntary and context-dependent. It is a tool for those who choose to engage; it should not be a cudgel to force civility on the oppressed while the oppressor goes unchecked. In dealing with populism, perhaps the best use of NVC is by allies and moderators – those not directly targeted by the hate – who have the emotional capacity to bridge divides, rather than expecting immediate empathy from someone under attack. Additionally, there may be situations where a more confrontational approach is necessary to stop harm quickly, even if it’s not “polite” or nonviolent in tone. NVC does not claim to replace all forms of political action; it is one approach among many, best suited for communication and relationship-building, and less applicable to urgent law enforcement against incitement or structural changes to social media algorithms.

Effectiveness and Evidence

Finally, a pragmatic critique: Do we have evidence that NVC works in reducing populist influence or changing minds at scale? While NVC has a considerable track record in conflict resolution, mediation, and educational settings, there is limited empirical research on its direct impact in political persuasion or online discourse moderation. Applying NVC principles systematically to social media debates is a relatively new and experimental idea. Early indicators, as mentioned, come from small-scale dialogue experiments or individual anecdotes of depolarization. These are promising but not yet definitive proof for society-wide change.

Therefore, some observers might label NVC in this context as idealistic – a noble ideal but one facing steep odds against the structural forces of polarization and human cognitive biases. To address this, proponents suggest more pilot programs and interdisciplinary research: for example, combining NVC training with digital literacy education, or conducting controlled experiments to see if NVC-informed interventions in comment sections lead to improved outcomes (e.g., more civil tone, greater willingness of participants to engage with opposing views, reduced hate speech). If such research finds concrete benefits, it will bolster the case for broader adoption. Until then, NVC’s role in countering populism remains a plausible theory needing further validation. At the very least, it provides a vision of how communication could shift from destructive to constructive. Whether that vision can be realized will depend on experimentation, cultural change, and perhaps most importantly, individuals’ willingness to practice empathy in adversarial situations – a truly challenging task.

Conclusion

Populist movements have demonstrated a formidable ability to sway public discourse through manipulative communication – simplifying complex issues into moral dichotomies, amplifying fear and resentment, and leveraging social media algorithms to create echo chambers of anger. This article has analyzed how such “communication populism” operates not just as political messaging, but as a challenge to the very fabric of democratic dialogue and mutual understanding. In response, we have explored Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication as a potential antidote: a way to infuse public discourse with empathy, clarity, and respect for truth. NVC encourages a shift from accusation to inquiry, from diatribe to dialogue – focusing on the feelings and needs behind words, and on solutions that acknowledge everyone’s humanity.

Integrating insights from political communication research, we noted that populist discourse is often emotionally charged and negative, thriving on conflict and division (Engesser et al., 2017; Alonso-Muñoz & Casero-Ripollés, 2023). NVC, by contrast, works to defuse negative emotions through empathetic listening and to prevent reflexive defensiveness by removing blame (Rosenberg, 2003). From psychology, we saw that populist rhetoric taps into moral intuitions and identity needs (Haidt, 2012); NVC offers a way to address those same needs (like security, belonging, fairness) without the antagonism and scapegoating, thus potentially undercutting the appeal of the demagogue’s message. Empirical examples on social media illustrated the dire need for such approaches: content analyses show populists inundate platforms with fear-based messaging (Alonso-Muñoz & Casero-Ripollés, 2023), and user studies link these patterns to growing polarization and a chilling effect on open dialogue (Matthes et al., 2023; Amnesty International, 2020). In this light, an approach that can break the cycle – by engaging opponents with understanding, changing the tone of conversations, and re-humanizing those who have been othered – is a welcome prospect.

However, we have also critically examined whether and how NVC can overcome this challenge. We acknowledged that NVC is not a cure-all or a quick fix. Its application in the sprawling, impersonal battleground of the internet faces hurdles of scale, bad-faith actors, and misperception. It demands skill, practice, and changes in platform design or community norms to truly flourish. Moreover, empathy-driven communication must be carefully balanced with accountability and justice: showing compassion for individuals does not mean validating harmful ideologies or foregoing the protection of those targeted by hate. Rosenberg’s own writings remind us that NVC can be a powerful tool, but that sometimes a protective force is necessary. Thus, “nonviolent” communication in the context of populism should not be mistaken for passive acceptance; rather, it is an active and courageous choice to fight fire not with fire, but with water – cooling tempers, inviting reflection, and standing firmly on values of dignity and truth.

For academics and policymakers concerned with the rise of populism, the NVC framework offers fruitful avenues for further exploration. It bridges disciplines: from critical discourse analysis, it borrows the idea of challenging dominant narratives (here, challenging the narrative of enemy-making by substituting one of mutual understanding); from psychology, it leverages what we know about emotion and identity to craft communication that connects; from media studies, it raises questions about how platform ecosystems might be tweaked to reward empathy over outrage. Future research might test communication interventions inspired by NVC in online forums or deliberative democracy projects. Educators might incorporate NVC training to cultivate a new generation of digital citizens skilled in compassionate communication. Such steps could gradually build resilience in the public against manipulative rhetoric: an audience that no longer reacts blindly to fearmongering, but pauses to ask, “What is really being felt, and what is needed?”

In conclusion, the struggle against populist manipulation is not only a political or informational one, but fundamentally a communicative one – a struggle over how we speak and listen to each other in the public sphere. Nonviolent Communication, as Rosenberg envisioned it, is both a philosophical stance and a practical method that affirms the possibility of “speaking truth in love,” even amid discord. It invites each of us to reclaim our voice from the dynamics of anger and deceit, and to exercise a freedom of expression that is truly free – free from violence, free from coercion, and free to seek common humanity. While challenging to apply, Rosenberg’s approach is a counter-cultural antidote to populism’s poison, reminding us that empathy and honest connection are not naïve ideals but potent forces for social healing. 

In a time of hardened divisions, listening without judgment and speaking without malice may be revolutionary acts. As we refine strategies to curb the excesses of populist communication, we should not overlook the transformative power of nonviolence in communication itself. This antidote works not by suppression, but by elevation: elevating the conversation to a plane where manipulation falters and understanding begins.


 

(*) Claudia Fritsch is a Psychologist and Psychotherapist in Stuttgart, Germany. 


 

References

Alonso-Muñoz, L. & Casero-Ripollés, A. (2023). “The appeal to emotions in the discourse of populist political actors from Spain, Italy, France and the United Kingdom on Twitter.” Frontiers in Communication, 8, Article 1159847. https://doi.org/10.3389/fcomm.2023.1159847

Amnesty International. (2020). “Tweet… If you dare: Five facts about online abuse against women.” https://www.amnesty.org/en/documents/act10/1353/2020/en/

Brady, W. J.; Wills, J. A.; Jost, J. T.; Tucker, J. A. & Van Bavel, J. J. (2017). “Emotion shapes the diffusion of moralized content in social networks.” Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences, 114(28), 7313–7318. https://doi.org/10.1073/pnas.1618923114

Carothers, T. & O’Donohue, A. (Eds.). (2019). Democracies divided: The global challenge of political polarization. Carnegie Endowment for International Peace.

Charaudeau, P. (2009). Discours populiste et communication politique: Les ressorts de la démagogie. (Excerpt cited in Alonso-Muñoz & Casero-Ripollés, 2023).

Druckman, J. N. & Levy, J. (Eds.). (2021). Affective polarization. Routledge.

Engesser, S.; Ernst, N.; Esser, F. & Büchel, F. (2017). “Populist online communication: Introduction to the special issue.” Information, Communication & Society, 20(9), 1279–1292. https://doi.org/10.1080/1369118X.2017.1328525

FAZ Dossier Redaktion. (2025). “Einfluss und Macht sozialer Netzwerke: Angriff der Algorithmen.” Frankfurter Allgemeine Zeitung. https://www.faz.net/aktuell/dossier-soziale-medien

Groeben, N. & Christmann, U. (2023). “Fair argumentation as a safeguard for peace and democracy.” In: C. Cohrs, N. Knab, & G. Sommer (Eds.), Handbook of peace psychology. Forum Friedenspsychologie. https://doi.org/10.17192/es2022.0073

Haidt, J. (2012). The righteous mind: Why good people are divided by politics and religion. Pantheon Books.

Helfritzsch, P. & Müller Hipper, J. (Eds.). (2024). Die Emotionalisierung des Politischen. transcript Verlag. https://doi.org/10.14361/9783839452783

Kohn, A. (1990). No contest: The case against competition. Houghton Mifflin.

Matthes, J., et al. (2023). “The way we use social media matters: A panel study on passive versus active political social media use and affective polarization.” International Journal of Communication, 17, 3211–3232.

National Institute for Civil Discourse. (Various years). Reports on social media and civility. University of Arizona.

Pörksen, B. (2018). Die große Gereiztheit: Wege aus der kollektiven Erregung. Carl Hanser Verlag.

Rosenberg, M. B. (2003). Nonviolent communication: A language of life. PuddleDancer Press.

Rosenberg, M. B. (2015). Nonviolent communication: Companion workbook. PuddleDancer Press.

Seid, A. R. (2023). “Using nonviolent communication (NVC) to address the roots and impacts of extremism.” PuddleDancer Press, online series.

Schenk, S. (Ed.). (2024). Populismus und Protest: Demokratische Öffentlichkeiten und Medienbildung in Zeiten von Rechtsextremismus und Digitalisierung. Verlag Barbara Budrich. https://doi.org/10.3224/84743033

Zienert-Eilts, K. J. (2020). “Destructive populism as ‘perverted containing’: A psychoanalytical look at the attraction of Donald Trump.” International Journal of Psychoanalysis, 101(5), 971–991. https://doi.org/10.1080/00207578.2020.1827955

The Athens Polytechnic Monument covered with flowers during the 2019 commemoration of the 1973 student uprising against the Greek junta in Athens, Greece. Photo: Antonios Karvelas.

November 17th: The Rise of the Far-Right as a ‘Youth Trend’

In this powerful reflection for ECPS – Voice of Youth, high school student Emmanouela Papapavlou warns that the rise of the far right is not a “youth trend” but a symptom of collective amnesia. The memory of the Polytechnic uprising—once a symbol of resistance to dictatorship—has grown hollow through ritual repetition, even as democratic backsliding accelerates across Europe, the US, and Greece. Papapavlou describes how everyday indifference and frustration quietly nourish extremist ideas, while pockets of young people fight back through music, art, and political expression. Her message is urgent: democracy erodes not when violence erupts, but when society forgets what unfreedom feels like. Memory, he reminds us, is not a burden—it is our first line of defense.

By Emmanouela Papapavlou

Every year, the same story unfolds… wreaths, school speeches, the same faded posters we barely notice. A ritual repeated, yet it barely moves us. The Polytechnic uprising, instead of warning us about the fragility of freedom, is often handed down as compulsory material. And so, the deepest wound of modern Greek history becomes just another “anniversary.”

Yet, precisely at a time when democracy worldwide is under threat, the Polytechnic should shake us more than ever.

In Europe, parties with fascist roots are entering governments. In America, authoritarian leaders are gaining unprecedented support. In Greece, the far-right is comfortably returning to public life. And still, the memory of that uprising leaves so many indifferent.

Everyday scenes reveal a harsh truth: indifference, frustration, and social decay fuel the rise of extremes. In quiet, almost unnoticed moments, the past comes alive: forgotten junta supporters chatting in neighborhood barbershops as if no time has passed, fascists and ex-junta members teaching outdated, dangerous ideologies to Greek children. This is not just about contemporary Greeks, nor a “lost segment” of society. It is a collective phenomenon: disillusionment breeds extremes, whether leaning right or left.

Silence in the face of looming threats is not innocent, it is complicity. Yet some young people refuse to stay silent. They turn to music that tackles social and political issues such as rap music, they write lyrics and stories, produce podcasts, murals, exhibitions, or small performances. Through these acts, they revive memory and keep resistance against darkness alive. The generation of the Polytechnic rebelled and showed us the way: how dictators fall, and how united people claim their rights. It is our duty to remember the fallen and the fighters of that bloody uprising and to understand what it takes to keep democracy alive.

Here lies the core message: the rise of the far-right is not “a youth trend.” It is a warning that society has begun to forget. Forgetting what unfreedom means. Forgetting how easily institutions once taken for granted crumbled. Forgetting that democracy does not die suddenly, it dies when we become accustomed to darkness.

The Polytechnic is not merely a monument of the past. It is a test: it will either remind us of what we risk losing, or we will watch history rewrite itself while we only hear the silence around us.

Indeed, memory is not an obligation. It is a shield, a defense against the darkness that threatens democracy. Remaining passive is easy. The hard part is seeing the bigger picture: Europe drifting back toward dark ideas, Greece flirting with amnesia, a world exhausted from losing and still keeping vigilance alive.

Memory is not merely duty. It is our first line of defense.

 


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

Labor Day protest outside Trump Tower on Fifth Avenue, Midtown Manhattan, September 1, 2025, where demonstrators demanded better wages and working conditions. Photo: Dreamstime.

Can Mamdani’s Municipal Socialism Counter Democratic Backsliding?

In a period of deepening global democratic recession Zohran Mamdani’s ascent as mayor of New York City poses an important question: Can municipal socialism provide meaningful resistance to authoritarian and oligarchic drift? Mamdani’s redistributive agenda—rent freezes, universal childcare, fare-free transit, public groceries, and a $30 minimum wage—seeks to decommodify basic needs and challenge monopoly power. His platform echoes broader critiques of financialized capitalism and “techno-feudalism,” offering a localized experiment in restoring democratic control over markets. Yet structural constraints—capital mobility, state-level authority, and limited municipal capacity—risk reducing his project to a palliative rather than transformative intervention. Still, Mamdani’s rise signals renewed potential for democratic agency within advanced capitalism and highlights the symbolic power of left urban governance.

By Ibrahim Ozturk

In an era marked by the ninth consecutive year of global democratic decline—with more autocracies than democracies worldwide—the question of whether municipal socialism can serve as a meaningful counterweight to authoritarian drift has acquired renewed urgency. In my earlier analysisTrump and the New Capitalism: Old Wine in a New Bottle, I argued that the rise of populist-authoritarian tendencies represents not an aberration but an outcome of structural transformations within capitalism. The fusion of excessive neoliberal deregulation, financialization, and techno-feudal monopolies has produced a regime in which power is concentrated in networks of rent-seeking elites while democratic accountability erodes. Within this global configuration, figures such as Donald Trump exemplify a politics of reaction, harnessing social discontent to reinforce rather than transcend capitalist contradictions.

The newly elected mayor of the New York municipality in the US, Zohran Mamdani, represents another countermovement that is evolving. Having an Indian lineage, born in Kampala, Uganda, in 1991 and educated at the Bronx High School of Science and Bowdoin College in the US, Mamdani is a community organizer and politician representing a new generation of democratic socialists in New York City politics. His family background reflects a distinguished intellectual lineage: his father, Mahmood Mamdani, is a renowned Ugandan academic and political theorist at Columbia University, while his mother, Mira Nair, is an internationally acclaimed Indian filmmaker. This cosmopolitan and intellectually engaged upbringing informs his perspective on justice, diversity, and structural inequality. Before his mayoral campaign, he served as a state assembly member for Queens, gaining recognition for his advocacy on housing, transport, and labor rights.

The emergence of Mamdani, a self-described democratic socialist and now mayor-elect of New York City, raises a critical question: Can left municipalism, operating within the framework of advanced capitalism, achieve more than temporary relief? Can it open pathways toward structural transformation, or does it risk serving merely as a palliative to capitalism’s crises? This commentary examines Mamdani’s project as a potential alternative within the confines of globalized urban capitalism and explores whether it constitutes a genuine rupture or a managed reform.

Mamdani’s Program and Its Socialist Premise

Mamdani’s platform centers on affordability—housing, transit, groceries, childcare—labor empowerment, anti-monopoly measures, and public-sector revival. His proposals include rent freezes, universal childcare, fare-free buses, city-owned grocery stores, and a minimum wage of $30 by 2030. The program is explicitly redistributive—funded through higher taxation on the wealthy, municipal bonds, and redirected public investment—and endorsed by the Democratic Socialists of America. Reports from The Nation and The Guardian emphasize his focus on social affordability and economic justice.

Taken together, these policies articulate a coherent vision of municipal socialism that seeks to reconcile equity with feasibility. They represent not merely an electoral program but a normative statement about how value creation and distribution should be reorganized in an era of inequality and urban precarity.

Alignment with Structural Critiques of Capitalism

While Mamdani’s proposals emerge from the immediate material pressures of urban life—housing unaffordability, wage stagnation, and public disinvestment—they also speak to deeper theoretical concerns. His platform implicitly challenges the dominant accumulation regime that has shaped advanced capitalism since the 1980s.

  • Constraining monopoly and platform power: His regulation of delivery apps and advocacy for municipal alternatives echo calls to counter techno-feudal control.
  • Fiscal re-politicization: Expanding municipal investment and debt capacity revives the Keynesian principle of democratic capital allocation, countering the austerity logic.
  • Labor empowerment: Raising wages and curbing algorithmic exploitation of gig workers directly addresses the erosion of collective bargaining in the digital economy

In essence, Mamdani’s local socialism represents a municipal-scale experiment in reversing the disembedding process. It seeks to restore social control over markets without dismantling the capitalist framework entirely.

Structural Constraints and the Risk of Palliative Reform

Despite its radical rhetoric, Mamdani’s agenda faces formidable structural limits:

  • Jurisdictional dependency: Many proposals—such as rent control, wage laws, and tax reform—require state-level approval. Dependence on higher-tier institutions (Albany, Congress) restricts municipal sovereignty.
  • Financial constraints: Global capital mobility enables landlords and investors to circumvent local regulations through capital flight or pre-emptive rent inflation.
  • Administrative capacity: Rebuilding the state apparatus after decades of privatization demands resources, expertise, and political endurance.
    Global market discipline: As I noted elsewhere, cities embedded in global capital circuits cannot easily alter systemic rules of accumulation.

Thus, while progressive, Mamdani’s project risks acting as a palliative: It might ease inequality, precarity, and housing shortages without actually transforming the fundamental regime of accumulation. In this way, it resembles the New Deal paradox—reforms that saved capitalism from itself by institutionalizing social compromise.

Theoretical Implications: From Populism to Municipal Socialism

In contrast to populist movements such as Trumpism that weaponize social anger for authoritarian consolidation, Mamdani represents a left-populist or socialist response oriented toward redistribution and participation.

Drawing on thinkers such as Shoshana ZuboffYanis Varoufakis, and McKenzie Wark, genuine transformation would require dismantling the global rentier system based on data extraction, monopolistic control, and financial dominance. Mamdani’s measures operate largely at the level of urban welfare and infrastructure, not at the structural nexus of digital and financial capital.

This suggests that while municipal socialism can create breathing space for democracy, it cannot, alone, displace capitalist command over value creation. Nevertheless, its symbolic power is significant: It demonstrates that political agency still exists within capitalist democracies and that redistribution, social housing, and decommodification are viable public policies.

A Short Reminder from the Obama Experience

While Mamdani’s rise has generated enthusiasm among progressive circles, historical experience counsels caution regarding the transformative potential of reform within existing institutions. The election of Barack Obama in 2008 offers a revealing precedent. His campaign, built around the populist slogan “Yes We Can,” unleashed one of the most powerful waves of civic mobilization in modern US history.

A signature pledge—the creation of a single-payer healthcare system—was quickly abandoned amid intra-party resistance. Even with a unified government, centrist Democrats refused to support the plan. The resulting Affordable Care Act represented a policy milestone but fell short of structural transformation.

Simultaneously, the conservative backlash was immediate and fierce. The Tea Party movement– funded by corporate networks and amplified through right-wing media—redefined the Republican Party and laid the groundwork for Donald Trump’s Make America Great Again (MAGA) insurgency. 

The political consequences were swift. In the 2010 midterms, Democrats lost both houses of Congress. Even vacancies in the Federal Reserve Board and the Supreme Court remained unfilled, enabling the next administration to reshape the judiciary decisively.

A Constraint Hope for the Future

Zohran Mamdani at the Dominican Heritage Parade on 6th Ave in Manhattan, New York City, August 10, 2025. Photo: Aleksandr Dyskin.

Mamdani’s rise signals a generational shift toward pragmatic socialism—a reassertion of collective goods amid a cost-of-living crisis. His program offers hope within limits: Hope that governance can be reoriented toward equality and sustainability; limits because the city remains bound to global circuits of capital and data.

If such movements scale upward—through cooperative federalism, trans-urban alliances, and progressive taxation—the Mamdani experiment could prefigure a new model of democratic socialism adapted to the 21st century. Otherwise, as warned in Trump and the New Capitalism, the system will continue oscillating between neoliberal authoritarianism and fragmented reform.

Dr. Monika de Silva is a political scientist at the University of Gothenburg.

Dr. de Silva: Anti-Gender Narratives Are Highly Interlinked and Interconnected Across Borders

“Anti-gender discourses are very interlinked and interconnected; we see these floating narratives repeated across countries like Latvia, Poland, and Russia,” says Dr. Monika de Silva. She explains that populist actors strategically exploit linguistic ambiguity around concepts such as gender, transforming technical legal terms into polarizing political symbols. “Language is never neutral… this linguistic openness is used to argue that because gender replaces the word sex, we can no longer talk about men and women,” she notes. The Istanbul Convention—intended to prevent violence against women—has thus been reframed as an LGBTQ+ threat or “radical feminist project.” Yet Dr. de Silva stresses the importance of civic resistance: Latvia’s mass protests “undoubtedly shaped” the president’s decision to return the withdrawal bill to parliament.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In recent weeks, Latvia has become a focal point in Europe’s ongoing struggle over gender equality, human rights, and democratic resilience. On October 31, 2025, the Saeima (Latvian Parliament) voted 56–32 to withdraw from the Council of Europe’s Istanbul Convention—only a year after ratifying the treaty designed to prevent and combat violence against women. The move relied heavily on claims that the Convention promotes “radical feminism” and “gender ideology,” echoing narratives with well-documented transnational origins. President Edgars Rinkēvičs soon returned the bill to parliament for reconsideration, warning that overturning ratification within a single legislative term would send “a contradictory message… to Latvian society and Latvia’s allies internationally.” He urged postponement until after upcoming elections, noting that Latvia risked becoming the first EU member state to renounce a human-rights treaty.

The backlash triggered the country’s largest civic protests since the 1990s. On November 6, 2025, more than 10,000 demonstrators gathered in Riga under the slogan “Let’s Protect Mother Latvia,” signaling a groundswell of civic resistance. At stake is not only the institutional integrity of gender-equality policy but also the credibility of Latvia’s constitutional and international commitments, especially given that the EU itself acceded to the Convention in 2023, making certain provisions binding regardless of national withdrawal.

It is against this turbulent backdrop that the European Center for the Study of Populism (ECPS) spoke with Dr. Monika de Silva, a political scientist at the University of Gothenburg. Her research, situated at the intersection of international relations and EU studies, examines how contested normative frameworks travel across borders. Her 2025 doctoral dissertation, “‘Gender Wars’ in Europe: Diplomatic Practice under Polarized Conditions,” traces how bilateral diplomacy and Council of the EU negotiations have been reshaped by conflicts over gender equality and LGBTQ+ rights. She is also affiliated with the Gender and Diplomacy project (GenDip) and the Centre for European Research (CERGU).

In the interview, Dr. de Silva argues that anti-gender discourse is best understood as a transnationally circulating narrative rather than merely a domestic reaction: “Anti-gender discourses are very interlinked and interconnected… we see manifestations of that as floating narratives that are very similar, whether we look at Latvia, Poland or Russia, etc.”

She identifies both supply and demand factors driving the spread of “gender ideology” rhetoric across Europe, noting that populist radical right actors strategically translate technical legal language into ideologically charged frames, exploiting linguistic ambiguity: “Language is never neutral… this linguistic openness is definitely used to advance such narratives.”

Dr. de Silva further highlights how withdrawal debates are reframing the Istanbul Convention away from its core purpose—preventing violence against women—toward narratives that depict it as an LGBTQ+ threat or “radical feminist project.” These interpretations, she warns, are not new; similar tropes have circulated across Europe for nearly a decade.

Yet her analysis also highlights agents of democratic resilience. Civil society mobilization, she observes, has already influenced decision-making: “The president… decided to return the  law to parliament, and I am sure that seeing the largest protests in Latvia helped shape this decision.”

Finally, she issues a clear warning about governance consequences. Withdrawal would remove Latvia from GREVIO’s monitoring regime, generating critical transparency and implementation gaps: “A state not part of the Convention would not report to GREVIO… whatever it does is therefore less transparent, especially internationally.”

This interview thus offers rich insight into how legal, discursive, and geopolitical forces converge to shape contemporary anti-gender mobilization—and how democratic institutions and civil society may yet respond.

Here is the edited transcript of our interview with Dr. Monika de Silva, slightly revised for clarity and flow.

Latvia’s Withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention Signals Deep Democratic Trouble

Demonstrators in Riga on April 25, 2023, demand accountability after a woman’s murder, calling for political responsibility over Latvia’s years-long failure to ratify the Istanbul Convention. Photo: Gints Ivuskans.

Dr. Monica de Silva, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: Latvia became the first EU state to vote to withdraw from the Istanbul Convention—just a year after ratifying it. The move, driven by the right-wing Latvia First party and backed by a governing coalition partner, relied on claims that the treaty promotes “gender ideology,” echoing Kremlin-style narratives. It triggered Latvia’s largest civic protests since the 1990s, despite the country having the highest femicide rate in Europe; President Edgars Rinkēvičs has since sent the bill back to parliament for review. How do you interpret this backlash—primarily as a cyclical conservative reaction, a structural anti-gender countermovement, or a strategic tool of PRR mobilization?

Dr. Monika de Silva: Of course, the fact that populist radical right parties like Latvia First mobilized around the Istanbul Convention and now seek to withdraw from it is not surprising; it is a continued strategy of populist radical right parties. What is different—and concerning—in this case is that a conservative party, the Union of Farmers and Greens, has joined these radical right actors in pursuing withdrawal from the Convention.

The Union has always had reservations about the Convention, which is typical not only of radical or far-right parties but also of more mainstream conservative parties. However, what distinguishes this situation is that the Union is part of the government, and, as such, agreed to a coalition deal in which the Latvian government committed to ratifying the Istanbul Convention. Now they are backing away from a commitment they made to the Latvian public and to their coalition partners, which is deeply troubling for the state of our democracy.

It has been a very long process from Latvia’s signing of the Istanbul Convention to its ratification just last year. During this period, we saw extensive democratic debate in parliament, as well as a case before the Constitutional Court, which confirmed that the Convention complies with the Latvian Constitution. Upon ratification, Latvia also adopted an interpretive declaration affirming that it would not replace the word “sex” with “gender” in national legislation, and so on. Many voices participated in this process, and concerns—for example, about the legal implications of the Convention—were duly assessed.

It is therefore very worrying that, at this stage, we still face efforts to retract this commitment. This raises questions not only about Latvia’s commitment to its own citizens—particularly women—but also to other states that are parties to the Convention.

The Supply and Demand of Anti-Gender Politics in Europe

In your view, what explains the political salience of “gender ideology” narratives in opposition to the Istanbul Convention across such varied contexts as Latvia, Bulgaria, Turkey, and Hungary?

Dr. Monika de Silva: I like to think about the gender ideology narrative as having a supply side and a demand side. On the supply side, we have in all of these countries very strong populist radical right parties, but also other political movements that are very effective at mobilizing against the Convention and transnationalizing this issue. So this is the supply side of the narrative.

But what is even more interesting is the demand side. This strategy would not work without the resonance of this argument among a certain part of the population. What is similar in all of these countries—you mentioned Latvia, Bulgaria, Turkey, Hungary—is that they all participate in European integration but are not at the core of this project. They are not Western European countries; they are Central and Eastern European countries, or even countries on the boundary between Europe and other continents.

There are also many interlinkages between European identity and gender equality norms. We see that adopting certain norms or laws gives states a certain status within European integration. The case of Turkey is illustrative. The Istanbul Convention is named the Istanbul Convention for a reason. It was adopted in Turkey, and Turkey gained a lot of status points by hosting the conference; it was able to brand itself as European, liberal, etc.

But let’s remember that this was over 10-15 years ago, and now we live in a different moment. Today, Turkey’s accession to the European Union is much less likely. We also live in a moment where the European Union does not have as much power as it used to. So, this linkage between Europeanness and gender equality does not work as well as it once did, and it creates backlash. 

Gender equality norms are very dear to people; they are part of people’s social identity, whether on the left or on the right. So, it is not something that can be easily changed. People also do not want to feel that something is being imposed on them, so it is very easy to mobilize against this narrative in these countries—arguing that this is Western Europe, or the EU, or the Council of Europe, etc., or the elites forcing them to change their core norms.

Women and LGBTQ+ activists in İzmir, Turkey, rally for the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, highlighting femicide and the withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention. Photo: Idil Toffolo.

Populism, Geopolitics, and the Cross-Border Spread of Gender Backlash

To what extent is anti-gender discourse a domestic phenomenon, and to what extent is it borrowing transnational scripts, including Kremlin-linked rhetoric that frames the Convention as destroying “traditional family values”?

Dr. Monika de Silva: Of course, anti-gender discourses are very interlinked and interconnected, and we see manifestations of that as floating narratives that are very similar, whether we look at Latvia, Poland or Russia.

In the Latvian case, for example, I have not seen any new tropes in the anti-gender discourse, even though we have had this conversation since 2015–2016. So now, almost ten years on, there is nothing new. The Istanbul Convention is presented as a threat to the family, sneaking in certain gender-equality or feminist or LGBT norms that states did not initially think were in the Convention, or that it will make states allow for non-binarity in their legal systems, or make more lenient laws regarding transgender rights.

We see this over and over again, across time and space. What is the reason for that? To some extent, it is coordinated. We have coalitions of states that cooperate with each other in venues like the United Nations—traditional-values coalitions and so on—and they exchange and build their discourses together. We also have non-state, transnational organizations like the World Congress of Families that do this.

Regarding the link between these narratives and Russia or the Kremlin: we definitely see why there would be an incentive for Russia to stir up the conversation around the Istanbul Convention in Latvia and other Baltic states. This creates a lot of mistrust between countries like Latvia and other Western European countries and the EU, especially in a situation where we have this aggression on the eastern border of Europe. This is a problem that can steer the fate of this country one way or another.

We have elections in Latvia next year, and the Istanbul Convention will surely be a significant part of the campaigns. Hopefully, it will not steer the political scene in this country toward a pro-Russian direction. I hope we will see well-informed, democratic debate on the Istanbul Convention. But of course, since this is such a polarizing topic, there are certain risks involved.

Populist Actors Exploit Linguistic Ambiguity in EU Gender Debates

How do PRR actors transform technical legal language into ideologically charged rhetoric, especially around contested terms like “gender,” which your work has shown can be strategically mistranslated or emptied of meaning in EU negotiation spaces?

Dr. Monika de Silva: The discussion around the term “gender” shows us that language is never neutral. It is always politically charged, whether it is adopted as technical or legal. In the case I studied, several EU member states at some point decided that they did not want to use the word “gender” in EU-adopted documents. This, of course, stirred a lot of contestations around what gender even means for the EU, and so on. The fact is that what gender means, or what gender equality means for the EU, has never been a settled issue.

As you know, all EU languages have equal legal value. In different languages, gender equality is translated basically as equality between men and women. This had not been an issue for a long time because it did not spark as much discussion as it does now, with many states being very attached to the idea that gender should include more than men and women, and some countries being attached to the idea that it should not.

So, there is this discursive openness in what gender means for the EU. It existed before the so-called gender-language crisis. Populist parties, populist governments, are very skilled at using this discursive openness. Because if we do not know what the exact boundaries of a certain word are—and this is not atypical in political discourse—it is very easy to argue that this word means something essentially ridiculous. For example, because gender replaces the word sex, we can no longer talk about men and women. This is, of course, not what the word “gender” means, but this linguistic openness is definitely used to advance such narratives.

Why Some States Avoid Ratification: The Limits of EU Influence

European Union flags against European Parliament in Brussels, Belgium.

In your research, you explore “language bargaining” and diplomatic-legal talk. How have these dynamics influenced EU-level negotiations on the Istanbul Convention, and how did they enable states such as Hungary or Slovakia to avoid ratification?

Dr. Monika de Silva: Definitions and decisions in the EU are always outcomes of negotiations. There are diplomacy and negotiation involved in reaching a jointly acceptable outcome. That, of course, is a good, healthy thing if we have parties that are not always expecting to arrive at their maximalist outcome. This is not possible in an organization with 27 member states.

The ability to make these compromises and negotiate was something that enabled the European Union to accede to the Istanbul Convention, even though several member states decided that they themselves would not accede to the Convention. But they accepted the fact that, within a legitimate process and based on the rule of law—with also a case in the Court of Justice of the EU confirming that the EU can accede to the Istanbul Convention—yes, sometimes you win, sometimes you lose.

So, there is very little that the EU can do to make other member states ratify the Convention. This is their sovereign decision; they are not obliged to ratify the Convention under EU law. Even given the narratives that we talked about—the imposition from the EU and so on—this may actually have a reverse effect, a backlash against this sort of narrative of imposition.

So, I think the way to go is to maintain a culture of compromise, which assures these governments and their populations that this is the way we work in the EU, including in cases like the Istanbul Convention.

How a Women’s Protection Treaty Became a Culture-War Symbol

Could you reflect on how the Istanbul Convention became symbolically detached from its core purpose—preventing violence against women—and reframed instead as an LGBTQ+ threat or “radical feminist” project?

Dr. Monika de Silva: Of course, this is very unfortunate—what we see is that a convention intended to protect women from violence, gender-based violence, and protect domestic-violence victims, not only women, suddenly becomes a token in political discussions.

Even if some political movements would like the Istanbul Convention to stand for LGBT rights and feminist projects to a larger extent, it does not do so, as populist parties would like us to believe. That is why it is very important to counter misinformation around the Istanbul Convention and always go back to what it actually stands for and what it actually says. This is how movements across Europe will succeed in ensuring that the Convention is a successful tool—by returning to its true purpose, which is largely consensual. If we look at public opinion across Europe, most people agree that violence against women is not something they want to see in their societies.

We may have different ideas about the scope of the problem and how to tackle it, but returning to this core purpose is something that can mobilize support for the Convention. Bringing the Convention back to its purpose and localizing that purpose—not as something imposed or defined by other countries on Latvia, for example, but as something important within Latvian society itself—is very important.

We see civil society learning to do that—to focus on these two things. When we look at the protests in Latvia, I have seen a lot of Latvian flags; the protest itself has this motto of protecting Mother Latvia. So, it gives you the idea that this is about the citizens and population of Latvia. It is not about the EU; it is not about how we look in the eyes of EU bureaucrats. This is a local issue.

People Power Matters: Protest as a Deterrent to Anti-Gender Politics

Women protest in Warsaw, Poland, against the abortion ban and new laws restricting the right to contest fines or penalties. Photo: Eryk Losik.

What role does civil society mobilization play against gender backlash? Latvia has seen some of its largest protests since independence—can such mobilization create durable political resistance?

Dr. Monika de Silva: Of course it matters, and we have seen this in the case of Latvia. The president of Latvia decided to return the decision about the Istanbul Convention to parliament, and I am sure that seeing the mobilization of people and witnessing the largest protests in Latvia helped shape this decision.

We have other cases as well. Poland is a very good example of how civil society mobilization really works. Think about the Women’s Strike in Poland, and the fact that even though Poland had a populist government for over eight years, very much threatening gender equality, Poland has not withdrawn from the Istanbul Convention. This was, to a large extent, the success of civil society mobilization, acting as a deterrent to incumbents—showing that if you take a decision that is against our core values and beliefs, we will not continue supporting you.

At the end of the day, people want to stay in power, and civil society mobilization shows them that they can only do so if they take into account what civil society wants. This mobilization has to continue until the elections in Latvia next year, and hopefully in a way that mobilizes a large part of society rather than polarizing it.

Can EU-Level Binding Offset National Withdrawal?

How has EU legal accession to the Istanbul Convention (2023) shaped the political field? Does EU-level binding partially compensate for national withdrawals or refusals to ratify?

Dr. Monika de Silva: This is a complex legal issue—really an issue for legal nerds—but it is important for the public to understand it, too. Some parts of the Istanbul Convention are ratified by the EU, and the majority of the Convention can be ratified by EU member states, depending on who has competence in a given issue.

So, the EU—regardless of whether member states ratified the Convention or not—will have a certain part of the Convention apply, for example in the case of Latvia, just because the EU ratified it. But this is a very limited scope: it includes transnational cooperation between national court systems on violence against women and domestic violence.

A second area is asylum and refugee policy, because the EU has competence over this policy. And third, the EU has to implement the Convention within its own institutions.

So, this is a limited scope—this is one thing. Another issue is that although in theory it may sound all well and good, a division of competences, in practice this is a bit of a mess. Even though the EU is legally responsible for asylum policy, it is actually member states that implement it. It is states that run asylum-seeking centers, states that receive asylum requests, and so on. So, in practice, it may be difficult to differentiate who is responsible for what, and we have yet to see how this will work in practice.

The Real-World Costs of Leaving the Istanbul Convention

Women and LGBTQ+ activists in İzmir, Turkey, rally on November 25 for the International Day for the Elimination of Violence Against Women, highlighting femicide and the withdrawal from the Istanbul Convention. Photo: Idil Toffolo.

And lastly, Dr. de Silva, from a governance-effects perspective, what are the tangible consequences of withdrawal or non-ratification for women’s lives, particularly in terms of monitoring gaps and legal reform trajectories?

Dr. Monika de Silva: In the case of Latvia specifically, the Istanbul Convention is still in force and will be so until the parliament votes otherwise. But this will likely not happen until the next parliamentary elections in Latvia next year. So, in the case of Latvia, we are so far safe.

But what would happen if Latvia withdrew from the Convention? Let’s think about this. Many provisions of the Convention are already implemented in this case, and then we would have to focus on keeping these provisions in place. This is also a strategy in countries where it is very clear that they will not ratify the Convention in any foreseeable future. Think about Hungary. This is where civil society should focus on national law on domestic violence and violence against women being as strong as possible and perhaps reflecting the provisions of the Convention to the largest extent possible.

Latvia has already reported to GREVIO, the expert body of the Convention that monitors its implementation, and from this report we know that there are still gaps. The government itself says, for example, that it does not yet have assistance centers for rape victims. Now the government is legally obliged to establish them in the foreseeable future. If Latvia were not a member of the Convention, it would not have a legal obligation to do so.

There are situations like that. But the biggest and most immediate difference we would see is that a state not part of the Convention would not report to GREVIO. Whatever it does is therefore less transparent, especially internationally. There is less scrutiny, because once a state reports to GREVIO, it is evaluated by this body of experts—experts on violence against women and domestic violence who know what the Convention requires and how it should be implemented. States outside the Convention would also not face scrutiny from other member states or from international civil society.

So, this would be the biggest difference.

Satirical carnival parade with caricatured sculptures and enthusiastic spectators in Torres Vedras, Portugal on March 4, 2025. Photo: Dreamstime.

Assoc. Prof. Frantz: The Rise of Personalist Leaders Is Fueling Unpredictable Global Conflict

In an interview with the ECPS, Associate Professor Erica Frantz warns that the growing rise of personalist leaders worldwide is undermining democratic institutions and increasing the risk of international conflict. Personalist systems—where power is concentrated around a single dominant figure—erode checks and balances, distort party structures, and heighten foreign-policy miscalculation. Reflecting on the United States, she notes that Donald Trump has transformed the GOP into a “personal political vehicle,” enabling rapid consolidation of executive power. As domestic constraints weaken, Dr. Frantz cautions, “we are increasingly setting the stage for more volatile and unpredictable conflict behavior in the international arena.” She identifies leader-created parties and media-driven mobilization as critical warning signs of emerging personalist capture.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

In a wide-ranging conversation with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS), Associate Professor Erica Frantz of Michigan State University offers a penetrating analysis of the global resurgence of personalist politics and its destabilizing implications for democracy and international security. A leading scholar of authoritarianism, democratic backsliding, and strongman rule, Dr. Frantz situates recent developments in the United States within broader cross-national trends, underscoring how personalist leaders erode institutions, centralize power, and elevate the risk of domestic and international conflict.

Reflecting on recent US electoral outcomes in New Jersey, Virginia, California, and New York, Dr. Frantz stresses that it is “too soon to tell whether this trend will last,” though she notes the results offer “at least a small glimmer of hope for the Democrats” after months of erosion under Trump. Yet she cautions that such gains do not signify a reversal of democratic decline. Personalist rule—defined by her as governance backed by leader-centered parties—has advanced markedly under Trump. His second administration, she argues, is marked by consolidated control over the executive and a legislative majority, patterns “consistent with what research would anticipate” in cases of democratic erosion.

Personalism, Dr. Frantz warns, not only weakens democratic institutions but also escalates international danger. She emphasizes that leaders who face minimal domestic constraints are more prone to foreign policy miscalculation, explaining that “the absence of domestic constraints makes it very difficult for the two sides to figure out what the real red lines are. That potential for miscalculation elevates the chance of conflict.” Drawing on international relations scholarship, she identifies audience-cost dynamics as critical to crisis stability—factors severely undermined under highly personalized regimes. As she concludes, “as we see personalism on the rise globally, we are increasingly setting the stage for more volatile and unpredictable conflict behavior in the international arena.”

Dr. Frantz underscores that Trump’s transformation of the Republican Party represents a paradigmatic shift toward personalist structure. Though he did not found the GOP, by 2024 the party had become “fully under his control,” with elites aligning themselves behind his false election narratives. Trumpism has thus reshaped partisan dynamics in ways that may outlast his tenure.

Looking to the future, Dr. Frantz identifies leader-created parties as a key early warning sign of personalist capture—now increasingly visible in democracies and autocracies alike. She argues that the changing media environment has dramatically lowered the cost of personalist mobilization, enabling wealthy outsiders to build movements rapidly and bypass organizational constraints.

Taken together, Associate Professor Frantz’s insights illuminate how personalism—far from a regional aberration—is now a global pattern, with the United States neither insulated nor exceptional.

Erica Frantz is an Associate Professor in Political Science at Michigan State University.

Here is the edited transcript of our interview with Associate Professor Erica Frantz, slightly revised for clarity and flow.

Democratic Gains Offer Hope, But 2026 Remains the Real Test

Professor Erica Frantz, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: In the wake of recent Democratic victories—such as in New Jersey, Virginia, and California, as well as Zohran Mamdani’s win in New York—do you interpret these outcomes as early signs of public pushback against personalist-populist politics in the US, or are they better understood as cyclical fluctuations within a still-fragmented party system?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: That is a great question, and one that I don’t think we have a solid answer for. On the one hand, it certainly should give room for optimism that the Democrats did fairly well last week, in the November 4th elections. But at the same time, it is very possible that this was just a blip and an outlier. The real big test will be in the 2026 midterm elections. From my perspective, this was an important outcome for the Democrats in that there had been very little good news for the party since the 2024 election. So, for the first time, there was some indication that the tide of public opinion may be shifting a little bit against Trump. So, it is too soon to tell whether this trend will last, but it certainly offered at least a small glimmer of hope for the Democrats.

Small Victories Amid Deep Democratic Vulnerability

Do these electoral results indicate that institutional resilience and civic counter-mobilization remain robust in the US, or do you see them as temporary and insufficient to counter deeper trajectories of democratic erosion?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: Again, it is a little bit too soon to know what the ultimate meaning of this election result will be. From my perspective, a really big test is going to be the 2026 midterm elections.

We know a couple of things about the factors that escalate the chance of democratic erosion, and my colleagues and I have written a lot about personalist parties: when leaders come to power backed by personalist parties and the party has a legislative majority, the chance of democratic erosion increases. That is precisely what we’ve been witnessing with the second Trump administration—he now governs amid this personalist party, and the party has legislative majorities. All of that set the stage for him to consolidate power in the executive fairly rapidly in the US. So, the patterns that we’ve seen in 2025 are consistent with what research would anticipate.

To be clear, there are opportunities for citizens to push back against these efforts and signal their displeasure. This election was certainly one such opportunity. Again, the big one will be the 2026 midterm elections. It is not always the case that these leaders are able to consolidate control and destroy democracy from within; in some instances, they’re voted out of power. A good recent example would be Bolsonaro in Brazil. He was elected, did things that were harmful for Brazilian democracy, but ultimately lost his re-election bid. Slovenia would be another example. So, there is an opportunity for citizens to vote these leaders out.

But at the same time, it is not guaranteed that the 2026 midterm elections will be free and fair. Historically, US elections have been free and fair, despite allegations of fraud. The widespread consensus among experts is that we have very solid democratic elections in the US. However, there have been subtle indications that the Trump administration might try to fiddle with things in ways that threaten the integrity of the process in 2026. That is something to keep an eye on as well. Whether through gerrymandering or the disenfranchisement of key sectors of the electorate, there are certain things they could do that might not sound the alarm bell among citizens but would still threaten the integrity of the process.

Is Personalism the New Global Normal?

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

Given your comparative work on strongmen, how significant are these recent US elections at a global level—might they signal renewed democratic resistance, or are they isolated exceptions in a broader worldwide pattern of backsliding?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: We know that there is a broader pattern of backsliding happening, as you alluded to, and scholars debate to some degree how serious it is. But the reality is that regardless of the measure used to capture backsliding, we know that it’s occurring in places that have historically been robust to this sort of threat. Usually, wealthier democracies—democracies that have been in place for a really long time—tend to be protected from this kind of erosion.

What’s alarming about today’s backsliding wave is the ways in which countries like the United States, Poland, Hungary, and Turkey have been threatened by these sorts of incumbent takeovers. So, we know that there is a broader pattern underway, and from my own research perspective, we think that personalism is playing a very big role in fueling this dynamic.

That’s the broader global landscape. At the same time, as I mentioned earlier, just because we see a leader elected by a personalist party with a legislative majority does not mean there are no windows of opportunity for the opposition to vote these leaders out before they win re-election. I mentioned the cases of Brazil and Slovenia as examples where leaders that fit the model of what you don’t want to see, in terms of risks of incumbent takeover, did not win re-election.

So, the fact that we have this positive result for the Democratic Party—not only in terms of Mamdani, who is further to the left, winning office, but also the governors in New Jersey and Virginia, who were centrist—signals that perhaps there is some pushback against Trump’s agenda. However, it’s unclear whether that pushback is because of Trump doing things that are harmful to democracy and people not liking it, or—more likely, in my opinion—because they don’t like the direction of his economic policies. So, it would be unlikely that this result reflects frustration with what Trump has done to democracy, and far more likely that it reflects disagreement with his economic policies and the direction he has taken the economy.

From Institutional GOP to Personalist Machine

Your recent New York Times article argues that Donald Trump has transformed the GOP into a personal political vehicle. What empirical markers—organizational, ideological, or behavioral—most clearly signal the evolution of the Republican Party from a programmatic institution into a personalist structure?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: That’s a great question as well. We do a lot of research on personalized parties, and we’ve gathered a lot of data on how to capture personalism in a political party. And usually, the best indicator that a party is going to be personalist is that the leader created the party themselves—so Bukele with Nueva Ideas in El Salvador, or in Hungary with Orbán and Fidesz. Trump is unusual in that he did not create the Republican Party. This party has been around for a long time. But one indicator that his tenure as president was going to be different vis-à-vis the Republican Party was that he did not rise up within the ranks of the party to get the 2016 nomination. Instead, what happened was he was somewhat of an outsider. He, at one point, had been a Democrat, so he was not the classic candidate that the Republican Party had tended to field in their presidential campaigns.

At the time, the Republican Party happened to be divided. There were a variety of other people who were potential frontrunners for the 2016 candidacy, and Trump surprised many by virtue of winning. A lot of people at the time thought it was somewhat of a joke that he would be running for president. It was the right place at the right time for him to take over the Republican Party.

During his first term, he did not have the same control over the Republican Party that he did since 2020. And a clear indicator that the party was becoming personalized was after the insurrection on January 6, 2021. We see this really blatant, horrific episode of violence—essentially political violence—where a mob is trying to keep a democratically elected leader from taking power. That should have been a moment where Trump was completely sidelined from the Republican Party.

In the early days, a lot of Republican elites were somewhat unsure of how to respond. Should they get in line behind Trump’s false narrative that the election was stolen, or should they speak out against what happened and how much of a departure it was from our democratic norms? Slowly over time, however, Trump was able to get all of these elites to get in line with his false narrative. And so, by the time he ran for office in 2024, the Republican Party was fully under his control.

He’d gotten all of the key players within the party to support his narrative that the election was stolen, and by this point, it was pretty clear that Trump became synonymous with the party. When he would have different Republican Party events, there would be a statue of Trump or an image of Trump. Rather than promoting the party’s ideas, it was more a situation where we were seeing Trump as a person dominate. Clearly, elites started to sense that they were unlikely to maintain their political careers if they did not get in line behind Trump. So, by the time he ran for president in 2024, the party was very much one that we would consider personalist, where most elites were fearful of speaking out against Trump, and instead, he basically governs the policy agenda.

Structural Conditions Behind Trump’s Party Takeover

Elephant symbol of the Republican Party with the American flag in the background.
Photo: Chris Dorney.

Which structural conditions—party decay, institutional fragility, or shifts in public demand—have been most important in enabling Trump to centralize authority and weaken intra-party constraints?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: I don’t have a solid answer to that, because it would really be my best guess. My best guess in terms of what enabled Trump to personalize the party. I do think that the party was somewhat divided in 2016, and that was a real momentous occasion in terms of Trump being able to leverage this window of opportunity, as I mentioned. That said, the party was not fully behind Trump during his first term. Again, I can’t point to a specific cause of why he was able to fully take over the party in 2021. But we do know that slowly over time, key individuals in the party started to see themselves as not electorally viable unless they got in line behind Trump’s agenda.

In terms of the broader global landscape of why we’re able to see these sorts of things, there is some evidence that the changing media environment is enabling leaders to personalize their parties. Rather than having to build a party from the ground up, leaders can now build parties on social media. They don’t need the same organizational grassroots effort to construct a group that backs them. I mentioned earlier El Salvador with Nayib Bukele. He really is the new mold for how leaders can build movements that are personalized very rapidly and win office. He created his own political party and was very savvy in his use of social media to directly connect with voters, bypassing the need for a traditional party organization to launch his candidacy. These sorts of direct connections with citizens enable leaders to gain a following without having to rely on an established traditional party. There is some evidence that new media is facilitating the rise of personalism and personalist parties, enabling these leaders to bypass traditional institutions to gain political influence.

How Trump Hollowed Out Democratic Guardrails

Strongmen typically engage in institutional hollowing from within. Under Trump, which forms of institutional capture—of the courts, the DOJ, the Federal Reserve, or security agencies—pose the greatest long-term threat to liberal-democratic resilience in the US?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: Trump has been somewhat of an outlier in terms of the speed with which he has consolidated control. Typically, when we see these leaders come to power backed by these hollow organizations, personalist parties; it takes longer for them to get rid of executive constraints. Oftentimes, it’s strategic to do this slowly, because it’s more difficult for opponents to express alarm and mobilize against these fragmented takeovers. What has been surprising in the case of the US is the speed with which Trump has gone after multiple institutions of power and been able to do it without much pushback.

In terms of which institution is the most dangerous, in many cases we see the courts as particularly important in protecting democracy from an executive takeover. The fact that we have a Supreme Court that has seemed at least sympathetic, or willing to consider a new vision of the executive as very powerful, is particularly alarming, in that it’s possible the courts will open the door for Trump to do things like pursue a third term in office, because we have a conservative court that is not only conservative in terms of its agenda, but particularly pro-Trump. The current Supreme Court hearing over the case on tariffs and whether his tariffs are legal is going to be a very big case in terms of determining whether the courts will open the door for Trump to bypass traditional norms of behavior regarding executive power.

This is not to say that what Trump has done to gain control over other institutions is not also a problem. We ideally would like to see a bureaucracy that has people who are competent in major positions of power. Instead, what we’ve seen is that the bureaucracy has been both hollowed out—now very thin—but also staffed with his loyalists. This is going to have downstream consequences for all sorts of policy outcomes in the US. Even when we’re thinking about things like childhood vaccinations, we might see a public-health crisis on the horizon because of the ways in which Trump has appointed people in the health sector who do not have appropriate credentials for these positions.

The other domain that is also one to keep in mind is what’s going on with the military. Early on in Trump’s term, basically on a Friday night, when most people were not reading the news or maybe were asleep, he purged the top military brass of many officials. This is not the sort of thing that we are used to seeing. In a healthy democracy, the military is kept separate; it’s kept out of some of these civilian political debates. Trump seems very open-minded to trying to politicize the military. It’s been very unusual and alarming to see the ways he has deployed the National Guard to Democratic strongholds. This is not the sort of thing you’d like to see in a healthy democracy, because in theory the military is supposed to stay out of domestic political debates. The ways in which he’s used ICE to go after immigrants is also indicative of a shift where he is trying to use the security forces for political purposes in ways that are unprecedented.

Personalism and the Creation of Internal Enemies

Personalist rulers commonly manufacture “internal enemies” to justify extraordinary coercive measures. How does Trump’s rhetoric about the “deep state,” immigrants, and political opponents align with this broader strategy of threat construction?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: The ways in which Trump is fabricating a domestic enemy are very similar to what we see in dictatorships. The two cases that come to mind for me are Russia under Putin and Iran under its theocracy. In Iran, the regime very much benefits from promoting an image of the US as the enemy. It tries to get a rally-around-the-flag sort of boost in domestic support by saying that the regime is under attack from America, and that the United States is the cause of all of the country’s problems. In Russia, we’re seeing something similar with Putin’s rhetoric, saying that the United States is the cause of all of these challenges, and so forth.

Trump is not necessarily targeting a specific foreign enemy, but he likely would, at any given moment, blame a foreign country for some sort of problem that might be happening here. But he is stating that immigrants are a problem, and that immigrants are responsible for crime. He has made a number of statements completely absent any evidence about crime. In particular, he is saying false things about crime rates in Democratic cities. For people who live in these cities, this is somewhat surprising, because in many of them, they’ve actually seen their crime rates go down. So, the fact that he is deploying the National Guard to fight crime in Democratic strongholds is troubling.

It’s also his effort to rally his base. It was clear to him early on that his supporters were concerned about crime—that this was an issue he could get people to rally behind. If he paints a portrait of the United States as full of crime, as D.C. full of crime, then he can again create and craft a narrative that helps support him—an us-versus-them mentality, something that we’ve seen in many other political contexts, where leaders leverage these divides for their own political benefit.

Militarization as a Red Flag

District of Columbia National Guard soldiers patrol the National Mall after Trump activated the Guard and assumed control of the Metro Police to fight what he calls a crime epidemic, near Union Station, Washington, DC. Photo: Harper Drew.

Trump’s deployment of the National Guard and increasingly militarized immigration enforcement raises concerns about domestic coercion. Should we understand this as the early normalization of militarized rule within a democratic setting?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: In most cases of incumbent-led democratic backsliding, leaders usually first go after institutional constraints; they first go after the judiciary, or the bureaucracy, the media. Then they ultimately target elections. That’s the typical process that we see with incumbent-led backsliding. Trump’s ability to, or decision to, try to go after the security forces—and by that, I mean two things: promote loyalists, get rid of dissenting voices in the security forces, and then also politicize them by deploying them against his opponents—is not something that is typically part of the classic playbook. Usually, it’s something that we see after the democracy has transitioned to dictatorship.

The US is still a democracy by all accounts right now, because the 2024 presidential election was free and fair. That’s the most basic indicator of a democracy: the free and fairness of elections. We’re still a democracy. However, usually we don’t see these leaders militarize and politicize the security forces until after they’ve autocratized. It’s a very common tactic that they try to rely on multiple different security forces; we hear about coup-proofing and balancing the different security forces against one another. The fact that Trump is doing all of these things is both inconsistent with democratic norms in the United States and also a red flag in that healthy democracies require militaries that are not used for political purposes, particularly against domestic opponents.

Personalism and Economic Vulnerability

Photo: Shutterstock AI.

Your work suggests that personalist leaders politicize economic institutions and often embrace transactional economics. How might Trump’s pressure on the Federal Reserve, discretionary trade tactics, and patronage-based allocation threaten long-term economic stability?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: I keep mentioning personalist parties, but there’s a lot of research related to party personalism and its harmful consequences. We, my colleagues and I, just published a paper that shows that when leaders are backed by personal parties, they are more likely to attack central bank independence. This is not just something that is observed in the United States. There is a global pattern that these leaders, in their effort to ensure that no institutions can push back against them, go after the central bank as well. So, the fact that Trump has tried to interfere in the ways in which the Federal Reserve sets interest rate policies is consistent with global trends.

There is a huge body of research that shows that you want central bank independence, that this is something that political leaders should try to preserve because it’s in the country’s long-term best economic interests. So, when we have this sort of behavior, it signals that we’re likely to see disruptions in terms of inflationary policy. We are likely to have more unpredictable inflationary policy in the US. It is likely to lead to more inflation for ordinary people, and that’s already a concern among Americans. If you go to the grocery stores, prices are higher in everything. So, when I talk to my students, they can list a lot of different products that they no longer can afford because of inflation.

So, Trump’s eagerness to lower interest rates and fiddle with central bank independence is going to have long-term economic consequences. On top of this, these sorts of leaders are also likely to reward their loyalists with corruption. They’re likely to give them access to corruption and corrupt deal-making. That’s something very common, that these inner-circle elites are profiting from illicit deals. They send their money overseas to offshore bank accounts, try to hide things, and this is the way that these personalist leaders, like Trump, are able to maintain some inner-circle loyalty, by giving these sorts of kick-backs.

Corruption is not good for ordinary people. So that is another way in which these sorts of leaders, in their prioritization of their cronies and of staying in power, disrupt economic stability. So, the economic outlook for the United States does not look good. That’s not just because of the tariffs, which run counter to most economists’ advice, but because of these other layers of what’s happening with inflationary policy, interest rates, and corruption.

After Trump: Continuity or Collapse?

Former US President Donald Trump with a serious look as he delivers a speech at a campaign rally held at the Mohegan Sun Arena in Wilkes-Barre, PA – August 2, 2018. Photo: Evan El-Amin.

Personalist systems are especially fragile at succession. If the US continues along a personalist trajectory, what are the most plausible succession scenarios—heightened autocratization under loyalists, elite fragmentation, or institutional pushback?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: We don’t have a lot of research that gets into succession in personalist democracies. It’s somewhat unknown territory, what might happen if Trump were to decide not to go for a third term. That’s a big if, because he is certainly trying to put out feelers about how people would react to him going for a third term. It’s possible that he will try to stay in office beyond his term limits.

That said, in autocratic settings, we know that personalism makes it more difficult for succession to run smoothly, as you mentioned, but still, most of the time—when we have research on when leaders die of natural causes in office, for example—even in personalist places, most of the time there is a smooth succession process, at least to observers, and the regime survives it.

With personalist leaders, they can often survive even when ordinary people are doing horribly economically, because so long as they have bought off the security services and their inner circle of elites with corruption, they can maintain power.

The case I often think of when people ask what might happen next—such as whether everything would fall apart if Trump were to leave power—is Venezuela under Maduro. You know, Hugo Chávez had governed that place, autocratized it, and transformed what was once a very healthy democracy into an authoritarian system. He dies; it was around 2011. Maduro takes over, isn’t very popular, people don’t think this is going to last very long, and even though he lacks the same popularity that Chávez had, he has been able to stay in power amid an economy that’s performing disastrously. So, it would be foolish to assume that should Trump leave power—whether he dies of natural causes or whether he retires voluntarily—it’d be foolish to anticipate that that means the end of the destruction that he’s done to democracy in the United States.

Will Trumpism Outlive Trump?

Your scholarship shows that personalist parties can destabilize political competition even after their founders depart. Could Trump’s reconfiguration of the GOP generate enduring structural disruption in the US party system beyond his tenure?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: There are two points to mention here. On the one hand, because Trump did not create the Republican Party—because he took it over and co-opted it—I’m somewhat optimistic that the party could rebound and return to its former self, where it was a traditional conservative party with a conservative agenda, and where elites rose up the ranks of the party to get those positions. I think that it’s possible that we could see a reversion to the Republican Party of the past.

However, it’s also important to note that we have a lot of evidence that when these leaders lose power—let’s say they lose power in democratic elections—democracy does not necessarily rebound very quickly. Two recent examples of this would be Poland with the Law and Justice Party (PiS) losing elections. There was a lot of optimism that the democratic backsliding there had come to an end, but it has still been difficult for Polish democracy to fully rebound. There are challenges that persist in the judiciary, for example, and its ability to be independent.

The same thing could be said of Brazil with Bolsonaro. Bolsonaro loses re-election, Lula takes over, but there are really long-lasting divisions in Brazilian society that have persisted. A lot of this is because of the ways in which these leaders use polarization as a political tactic. So, it’s not that they are just voted out of office and suddenly, the 50% or so supporters that they genuinely have go away. 

From that perspective, on the one hand, I am more optimistic than I would be with other places that the Republican Party could rebound and return to a more programmatic party. But at the same time, there is lasting damage that has been done to the fabric of democracy here.

Unbound Executives, Unstable Worlds

Photo: Shutterstock.

Your NYT article notes that Trump and Xi of China operate with few domestic constraints, increasing unpredictability. Why does diminished institutional constraint heighten the risks of international miscalculation and conflict, particularly among major powers?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: There is a well-established body of research in international relations that underscores the importance of domestic constraints in preventing conflict. The idea is that if leaders face domestic constraints—meaning they would face some kind of consequence for not following through on their threats—their adversaries recognize this and can interpret those threats as credible. So, if I say there is a red line—if you don’t do X, Y, or Z, we’re going to invade—and I know I face constraints at home, my adversary knows that I mean what I say.

If, however, I face no domestic consequences for making empty promises or issuing vague or meaningless threats, then my adversary no longer knows what I really mean. The absence of domestic constraints therefore makes it very difficult for both sides to discern where the real red lines are. That uncertainty increases the likelihood of miscalculation and, in turn, the risk of conflict.

As I mentioned, there is a large literature on this—called audience-cost theory—and while it is somewhat complex, it helps explain why, when personalist leaders come to power, we tend to see more conflict. Research on authoritarian systems shows that personalist leaders are the most likely to start wars; they are the most likely to escalate conflicts with democracies in particular; and they are more prone to foreign policy miscalculation.

Taken together, this suggests that as we see personalism on the rise globally, we are increasingly setting the stage for more volatile and unpredictable conflict behavior in the international arena.

Why Leader-Made Parties Signal Democratic Peril

And lastly, Professor Frantz, given rising polarization, institutional distrust, and party hollowing globally, do you expect personalist leadership to become more common across both democracies and autocracies? What early warning indicators should scholars monitor to detect incipient personalist capture?

Assoc. Prof. Erica Frantz: I mentioned this earlier, but we do think the changing media environment has facilitated the rise of personalism in both autocratic and democratic contexts. This means that all signs point toward increasing top-heavy institutional emergence. Until there is some sort of concerted effort to return to party building and grassroots organization, we are likely to continue seeing more personalism globally.

A classic red flag is when a leader creates a party. Party creation is becoming increasingly common. Many of these leaders are billionaires, leveraging their personal wealth to fund these political vehicles. So, the biggest warning sign, I would say, is when the leader on the ballot has created their own party. That usually spells trouble for democracy—and for autocracy as well.

Brick Lane—London’s most iconic hub for street art and graffiti—runs from Whitechapel to Shoreditch through the heart of the East End, with nearby streets toward Spitalfields and Bethnal Green offering rich artistic stories of their own. Photo: Nicoleta Raluca Tudor.

Schrödinger’s Elite: How Populism Turns Power into Moral Performance

Populists rise to power by claiming outsider status against a corrupt elite. Yet many—from Erdogan and Modi to Trump—retain legitimacy long after becoming establishment actors. How? Yilmaz and Morieson argue that populist leaders occupy a dual identity they term “Schrödinger’s Elite”: simultaneously insiders and outsiders. They convert privilege into moral performance—projecting humility, purity, and sacrifice while governing as entrenched elites. This performance is not hypocrisy, but strategy. Whether through Trump’s theatrical diplomacy, Imran Khan’s pious nationalism, or judicial populism in Pakistan and the United States, authority is reframed as service to “the people.” The paradox reveals why populism persists despite policy failure: emotional authenticity eclipses institutional accountability, transforming power into virtue.

By Ihsan Yilmaz & Nicholas Morieson

One problem populists face when they enter government is that, by definition, they become the very thing they claim to despise: elites. Populist legitimacy is always predicated on their status as outsiders intent on cleansing a corrupt system. However, once the populist outsider becomes part of the governing elite, then it naturally becomes very difficult for them to present themselves as outsiders. One should expect that, once populists begin governing, they should lose their legitimacy. Yet this does not always occur. 

Indeed, this notion has been exploded by a generation of populist leaders who, despite making promises they could not keep and becoming insider elites, have retained their popularity and governed in some cases for more than a decade. 

The long reigns of populists such as Recep Tayyip Erdogan in Turkey, Narendra Modi in India, and the re-election of Donald Trump in the United States, demonstrate that populists can survive in power despite appearing to lose their outsider status. Moreover, many populist leaders are themselves part of the very elite they condemn. They are educated, wealthy, and deeply embedded within existing institutions. Some populist leaders have emerged from within state institutions, from the judiciary and the military, and cannot therefore be considered in any way outsiders. 

However, if populists are supposed to be outsiders battling ‘elites’ on behalf of ‘the people’, why do we see so many populist leaders emerging from, and remaining inside, the most elite sectors of society, including from state institutions and from the super-wealthy?

We call this paradox Schrödinger’s Elite. Like the famous cat in Erwin Schrödinger’s thought experiment that exists in two states at once, populist elites are both insiders and outsiders. They inhabit positions of privilege while performing rebellion. They rule as establishment figures but speak as insurgents. They preserve elite power while transforming it into a moral drama of virtue, authenticity, and at times sacrifice.

Schrödinger’s Elite

Populism, as theorist Benjamin Moffitt notes, does not destroy elite rule. Instead, it dramatizes crisis, performs outrage, uses ‘bad manners’ to present itself as authentic and ‘of the people, and ultimately presents power as service. Leaders appear both powerful and humble, dominant yet close to “the people.” This emotional theatre renews legitimacy without real change.

The idea of Schrödinger’s Elite helps explain everything from Donald Trump’s rallies to former Pakistan Prime Minister Imran Khan’s pious nationalism, and even the moral language of judges in Pakistan and the United States who claim to speak for “the people.” In each case, insiders perform as outsiders and power survives through spectacle.

Illustration of Schrödinger’s cat inside a cube surrounded by neon scientific symbols and formulas, representing quantum physics, superposition, and science education. Photo: Yana Lysenko.

The Paradox of Populist Elites

Populism pits “the pure people” against “the corrupt elite.” However, its champions are often wealthy, famous, or institutionally entrenched. For example, US President Donald Trump, a billionaire celebrity, plays the rebel in order to portray himself as an outsider in Washington and a man of the people. His crude humor and defiance convince supporters he is authentic and unfiltered. His wealth – whether real or not – is reframed as proof of independence from the effete Washington elite, which cannot buy him.

Imran Khan performs a similar balancing act. Oxford-educated and once adored as a cricket hero, he recast himself as a pious Muslim and moral crusader against corrupt, insufficiently religious elites. He promised a “New Pakistan” guided by Islamic values, blending humility with righteousness amid promises to save “the people” from corrupt rule. 

This combination of purity and power is not hypocrisy but better described as a strategy. Within this strategy, populist leaders turn privilege into moral capital. Their appeal rests less on policy than on emotion, and contra Mudde, less on ideology than on the performance of sincerity.

When Bureaucrats and Judges Turn Populist

Populist performance is not limited to politicians. Bureaucrats and judges can play the same role, posing as the conscience of the nation. Pakistan’s judiciary offers a clear example. For decades, judges have justified coups and interventions under the “Doctrine of Necessity,” claiming to act for “the people.”

In 2007, Chief Justice Iftikhar Chaudhry became a folk hero after defying President Musharraf. The Lawyers’ Movement celebrated him as a defender of democracy, yet it expanded the judiciary’s political reach. Courts later used moral language to disqualify Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif. One judgment compared him to a mafia “Godfather,” casting legal authority as moral and national purification.

The courts presented these rulings as virtue rather than law, appearing humble while exercising vast power. This can be described as a form of judicial populism, in which authority is framed as populist representation of the will of the ‘pure’ people.

The Supreme Court’s Populist Turn

The same pattern arguably surfaces in stronger democracies. For example, when the US Supreme Court overturned Roe v. Wade in Dobbs v. Jackson (2022), the majority framed the decision as restoring democracy, saying “the people” should decide. In doing so, the Court claimed moral authority even as it arguably concentrated power.

American justices are familiar public figures, and now speak publicly more than ever, often presenting themselves as moral figures rather than distant experts on law. As a result, the line between law and storytelling begins to blur, and in an already politicized court, procedure gives way to conviction. And like populist politicians, judges adopt the language of authenticity to build a direct connection between themselves and the public, increasing their own power.

Trump in Cairo

Trump’s October 2025 appearance in Cairo showed how populist performance travels. At a peace ceremony marking a ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, he turned diplomacy into entertainment. He joked with Viktor Orbán and Giorgia Meloni, calling Meloni “beautiful” and boasting that even if nobody liked Orbán, he did, and “I’m the only one that matters.”

To his followers, this vulgarity was truth-telling. His refusal to play by elite rules made him seem both powerful and free. He was the most influential man in the room and the only “outsider.” This was Schrödinger’s Elite in pure form: authority disguised as rebellion.

Imran Khan’s Moral Stage

Imran Khan’s career shows how this paradox works in a postcolonial setting. Khan embodies privilege and once was regarded as a playboy, yet he built his politics on piety. He invoked Riyasat-e-Medina, the ideal early Islamic state, and urged citizens to show moral discipline. His Oxford education became proof of competence and incorruptibility.

Khan attacked the Pakistan’s elite, calling them puppets of the West and those who, as he said, “carried the begging bowl to the IMF.” He vowed “never to bend the knee to Western powers.” He accused Washington of “desecrating the Quran,” defended the Taliban as “freedom fighters,” and praised them for having “broken the chains of mental slavery.

Each statement arguably turned politics into moral theatre. His suffering, including dismissal from power, arrests, court battles, and subsequent imprisonment only reinforced his image as a truth-teller persecuted by corrupt elites. 

Emotion Over Structure

The figure of Schrödinger’s Elite shows that populism does not end hierarchy but rather reshapes it. Populist elites thrive by performing virtue, and in doing so, turn their dominance into service, their power into purity, and self-interest into sacrifice for “the people.”

This helps explain why populism persists even when it fails to deliver positive results. Accusations of hypocrisy become proof of authenticity. Challenges to legitimacy become attacks by corrupt elites. Through these reversals, leaders convert their own failings into legitimacy and authenticity.

Digital media amplifies the cycle. Outrage, alas, spreads faster than rational argument, while visibility online replaces accountability. Trump’s tweets, Khan’s livestreams, and activist judges’ speeches all use the same grammar of feeling. They create intimacy between elite and follower while bypassing institutions that might check power.

The Theatre of Power

Across regimes and ideologies, populism redefines what it means to be elite. It replaces expertise with emotion and legality with morality. The populist elite, in this way, claims to represent the people while keeping control.

In Pakistan, judges act as the nation’s conscience while consolidating power. In the US, the Supreme Court claims to restore democracy. In Cairo, Trump mocked his peers to show he was above them. Each act sustains authority through performance.

The danger of all this lies not in populism’s attacks on elites, but in its ability to moralize populist domination of politics and law. It turns power into a spectacle of virtue, and in doing so, keeps citizens powerless while making them feel morally included and thus represented. 

A Paradox That Endures

Populism’s strength lies in its contradictions. Its leaders inhabit both rebellion and authority, humility and dominance. Across democracies and hybrid regimes alike, the populist governing powers claim to speak for “the people” while reinforcing control. And that is perhaps why populism endures. Its elites have learned not to abolish hierarchy but instead found ways to perform populism while entrenching themselves in power. 

Professor Ivan Llamazares is a leading scholar of political science at the University of Salamanca.

Prof. Llamazares: Authoritarianism Is Very Weak in Argentina, Whose Popular Culture Is Deeply Democratic

In this exclusive interview with the ECPS, Professor Ivan Llamazares of the University of Salamanca analyzes Argentina’s shifting political landscape under President Javier Milei, whose recent midterm victory consolidated his power and emboldened his radical austerity agenda. Professor Llamazares argues that while Milei’s libertarian populism intensifies Argentina’s ideological divisions, it does not fundamentally alter them. “It’s a modification, an intensification—but the underlying structure is still there,” he explains. Rejecting comparisons to Bolsonaro’s authoritarianism, he insists that “authoritarianism is very weak in Argentina, whose popular culture is deeply democratic.” For Professor Llamazares, Milei’s experiment embodies an “extreme illustration” of global right-wing populism—yet remains distinctly Argentine, rooted in enduring social cleavages, economic crises, and democratic resilience.

Interview by Selcuk Gultasli

Argentina’s President Javier Milei has consolidated his grip on power after his party, La Libertad Avanza, won nearly 41% of the vote in the midterm elections, securing 13 of 24 Senate seats and 64 of 127 lower-house seats. The landslide victory marks a major political endorsement of Milei’s radical austerity program, dubbed “chainsaw politics,” defined by deep spending cuts, deregulation, and free-market reforms. The results will allow him to advance his agenda more easily after facing frequent legislative resistance in his first two years in office. Supporters have hailed the win as a rejection of decades of Peronist economic management, while critics warn of deepening poverty, unemployment, and inequality as a result of sweeping cuts to education, healthcare, pensions, and social programs. Despite stabilizing inflation and restoring investor confidence, Milei’s reforms have sparked widespread hardship and a risk of recession. Meanwhile, a record-low turnout of 67.9% reflects rising public apathy and disillusionment with Argentina’s political class.

Against this backdrop of economic turbulence and populist consolidation, Professor Ivan Llamazares, a leading scholar of political science at the University of Salamanca, reflects on the deeper ideological and institutional dynamics shaping Argentina’s political transformation in an exclusive interview with the European Center for Populism Studies (ECPS). Known for his research on ideological structuring and party system dynamics in Latin America, Professor Llamazares situates Milei’s rise within Argentina’s longstanding ideological fault lines—the enduring struggle between Peronist interventionism and neoliberal technocracy.

Professor Llamazares cautions against viewing Milei’s ascent as a structural rupture. “It’s a modification, an intensification,” he explains, “but the underlying structure is still there.” In his view, Mauricio Macri’s victory in 2015 marked a more significant political realignment, introducing a coherent center-right, pro-business coalition that shifted the ideological balance of Argentine politics. Milei, he argues, has merely intensified this trajectory, infusing it with “a new rhetoric, a new style,” and a libertarian flair.

While comparisons to Bolsonaro and Fujimori are unavoidable, Professor Llamazares stresses the limits of authoritarianism in Argentina. “Authoritarianism is very weak… even the authoritarian project itself must be very weak,”he observes. This weakness, he suggests, is rooted in Argentina’s deeply democratic popular culture, shaped by the trauma of the last dictatorship and the political learning processes that culminated in the country’s 1983 democratic restoration. Unlike Bolsonaro, Milei “hasn’t taken significant steps toward building authoritarian institutions.”

At the same time, Professor Llamazares acknowledges that Milei represents “an extreme illustration” of a global populist trend that merges moral populism, economic deregulation, and cultural grievance. Yet, he underscores that many aspects of Milei’s project are “very typically Argentine,” reflecting specific socio-economic tensions—between export-oriented elites and protectionist sectors, between dollarization and social protection, and between a cosmopolitan upper class and the working poor.

Ultimately, Professor Llamazares interprets Milei’s moment not as a new ideological paradigm, but as a cyclical populist insurgency within Argentina’s enduring political structure. “Milei represents something new in style,” he concludes, but the deeper ideological foundations of Argentine politics remain intact.

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

Milei’s Victory Reflects Fear, Not Consensus

Javier Milei casts his vote in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on November 19, 2023. Photo: Fabian Alberto De Ciria.

Professor Ivan Llamazares, thank you very much for joining our interview series. Let me start right away with the first question: How would you interpret Javier Milei’s midterm victory in light of Argentina’s ongoing economic downturn, corruption scandals, and record-low voter turnout? What does this outcome reveal about the contemporary resonance and adaptability of right-wing populist discourse within contexts of socioeconomic precarity and institutional distrust?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: It’s a very complex issue; there are many interconnected themes, but one has to interpret this victory in the context of Argentina’s economic and political situation and the dynamics of the last decade. First of all, there is an ongoing and deep division in Argentine society in terms of economic and political projects. On the one hand, we have Peronism and Kirchnerism as a particular and dominant current with internal divisions, and on the other hand, a more market-oriented, right-wing approach that focuses on control, authority policies, favoring market mechanisms, integrating the Argentine economy into the world, less protectionism, and so on. This has been the structural basis of Argentine politics over at least the last decade.

Then there is also the current economic situation. All the problems you mentioned are very acute and very important. In fact, they also led to the defeat of Milei’s party in the Buenos Aires elections a few weeks ago. But, on the other hand, there is also fear—particularly among those sectors that endorse a more liberal economic project. There was fear that the defeat of Milei would entail economic collapse, devaluation, and an uncertain political scenario that could even lead to his removal.

That helps explain the solidification of the coalition in favor of Milei. He received 40% of the vote—40% of the 68% of people who voted—so, in total, it’s probably less than 30% of all eligible voters, about 29% of Argentine society. It’s a majority of votes, but that’s the basic picture. There are, of course, other elements. That doesn’t mean, by the way, that everyone in this coalition is happy about Milei, or likes or trusts him, but they may have preferred the continuation of his project to the uncertainties that would follow his defeat. These, in my view, are the basic elements.

Trump’s Support Boosted Milei’s Momentum, But Interests May Diverge

To what extent might Milei’s electoral resilience be contingent upon exogenous political and financial scaffolding, particularly from Donald Trump and the US Treasury? Could this episode signify the emergence of a transnational populist alliance that fuses neoliberal governance with nationalist rhetoric across hemispheres?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: The answer to the first question is “yes”—it has helped Milei very clearly. It has moved him to the upper bound of the survey projections. It is also clear that the situation of the peso, the chances of devaluation, and so on, improved over the last week due to these commitments by the Trump administration. So it has helped. I don’t know exactly how much, but it must have helped reassure people who perhaps had some doubts yet wanted to avoid the victory of Peronism, and they must have thought ‘at least we have the support of the US, which is the major economic player, and that means the project can continue in this way for a time’. So I think it has been important.

In terms of the alliance, I am not so sure. Of course, there are some ideological, personal, and political affinities—they are close to each other in some respects. But I’m not sure this is going to be so important in the future, in the sense that there are the interests of the US government and the interests of the Argentine government. The Argentine government is dependent, of course, on the US government, not the other way around. But in a situation where US policymakers make a different evaluation in terms of their calculations, they can change. Also, in this case, people refer to ideological proximity, but there are also some economic interests that may have played a role in this support. People close to the Trump political coalition, to the Trump government, also had some interests at stake in the devaluation, investments, and so on. So I would expect some connections and affinities, but I wouldn’t overemphasize them. Each government has its own interests, for sure.

The US Rescue Deepens Argentina’s Ideological Polarization

The US-engineered bailout has been widely interpreted as politically instrumental rather than economically rational. How do such interventions reconfigure Argentine imaginaries of sovereignty, dependency, and anti-elitism, which have long underpinned populist mobilizations from Peronism to Milei’s “anarcho-capitalism”?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: This is complex. On the one hand, this basically reinforces the interpretations that both Peronists and anti-Peronists have about the economic world. In the case of people who are pro-market, export-oriented, and anti-protectionist, who want to integrate the Argentine economy into global capitalism, this confirms that it is better to be associated with the major economic powers of the world, with the US market. So, it works well in that respect.

With regard to the ideological core of Kirchnerism and Peronism, in the same way, this shows that the Argentine government—this anti-Kirchnerist, anti-Peronist government—is just a puppet of international capitalism. So it doesn’t defend the Argentine economy or Argentine society, and it puts Argentina in a situation of total dependency. In fact, they could make the point, and it was a strong one, that this government has increased Argentina’s debt and that we will not be able to pay it. This is just short-term reassurance, but in the end, we face huge problems. We are in a mess.

So, in that sense, it reinforces everything. Perhaps, for people who are doubtful, this is somewhat favorable toward the right because, in this case, they have saved us. Perhaps there are some advantages in being close to these people. And that may be a little similar to the Menem situation. Menem changed Peronist policies, adopted a strategy of being very close to the United States, to international markets, privatization, and so on, and for a while, it worked. Menem won the 1995 elections. So, it works well in terms of Argentine narratives. One has to wait until the end to see how this finishes. Let’s see what happens in a year and a half—what will be the situation of the peso, the economy, whether it will be in recession or not.

Milei Won the Election, but Not ‘the People’

Given the severe austerity measures, deep welfare retrenchment, and widening inequality, how do you account for Milei’s capacity to sustain an affective and symbolic identification with “el pueblo” while advancing a project grounded in radical market orthodoxy?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: He has been successful in solidifying his coalition in order to win against the Peronists and other contenders. I don’t think this means he can portray himself as the leader and representative of a unified Argentine people. I don’t think that is possible. I think the anti-elite populist discourse had more credibility in the presidential elections, to some extent. But right now, the situation is clear. He represents a social coalition that is more middle class. If you look at the electoral results by municipality, he has performed much better in districts where income is higher than in those where income is lower, in contrast to Peronism. He has won, but the idea that “I represent the people, and Peronism represents the elite” cannot work very well right now.

Peronism is weak, but it represents many people—poor people, working-class people, those who have informal jobs, and so on. So I don’t think it works very well in terms of political rhetoric. It worked fine to win the election, but the idea of casta or anti-elite discourse doesn’t work so well right now, actually.

A New Rhetoric, not a New Structure

Crowd of protesters during the cacerolazos—the pots and pans demonstrations—against President Cristina Fernández de Kirchner in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on November 8, 2012. Photo: Dreamstime.

In your earlier work on ideological dimensions and spatial models of Latin American politics, you emphasized the structuring role of ideology in mediating citizen preferences. How does Milei’s “anarcho-capitalist” imaginary, with its libertarian anti-statism and anti-political moralism, reconfigure Argentina’s traditional ideological continuum between Peronist interventionism and neoliberal technocracy?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: What he represents is rooted in the existing structure of ideological and programmatic confrontation. He’s not departing from it; he’s transforming it slightly—rhetorically and in terms of the social coalition. But he draws his strength from this division. In that sense, I don’t think he’s a radical transformer. He hasn’t changed the parameters of these conflicts, which have a long history in Argentina and became particularly solidified under the Kirchner governments—both Néstor Kirchner and Cristina Fernández de Kirchner.

He hasn’t altered that dynamic drastically; rather, he has given it a new flavor, emphasizing the freedom associated with the market. He has managed to appeal to young people outside formal markets—self-employed workers, young males. But he hasn’t changed the ideological structuring of the Argentine party system. That’s my impression. In a way, he has intensified everything.

This could also be seen, in a similar way, in the election that Macri won. But Macri had a more moderate profile and was more of an establishment politician or leader. Milei is disruptive, but this also has to do with the depth of the Argentine crisis and the depth of Argentina’s conflicts.

Not a Break, but an Escalation of Neoliberal Populism

Can Milei’s experiment be analytically classified as a form of “neoliberal populism,” or do its discursive, moral, and performative elements constitute a qualitatively distinct libertarian-populist hybridity that challenges conventional typologies of populist economics?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: He fits under the first label, but with a new level of intensity and new rhetorical devices. Clearly, it’s pro-market, pro–export-oriented, and neoliberal in an extreme way, with rhetoric that is much more radical. I don’t think he departs from that, but he gives it a libertarian flavor and a highly ideological tone. He draws on obscure economic theoreticians from the Austrian school, speaks in a vulgar way, is rude and disrespectful, and does not represent the elites—the cultural elites—in that sense.

However, he remains rooted in the same neoliberal populist approach. In some respects, he’s also close to Bolsonaro. So I don’t think it’s a total break with the past. By the way, this trend began before Milei, as during the Néstor Kirchner period there were already segments of the Argentine right clearly moving in this direction.

Global Resonance, Local Specificity: Milei’s Unique Populism

How does the Milei-Trump ideological affinity, which is a fusion of moral populism, economic deregulation, and cultural grievance, reflect broader transformations in the grammar of global right-wing populism, particularly its capacity to reconcile anti-establishment rhetoric with financial globalization?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: He represents this trend in a way; he’s an extreme illustration of it—very powerful in rhetorical terms, for instance. Milei embodies something clear and substantive in international terms. I also have the impression that some of these characteristics are very specific to Argentina. I don’t think this ultra-liberal, pro–financial markets, pro–export-oriented, pro-dollarization approach works as well for the radical right in other contexts. I don’t expect or see anything similar when we look at France, Italy, or Germany and when we focus on the radical right.

In some respects, he reflects a distinctly Argentine situation—for instance, the tension between export-oriented and social protection models, the importance of the dollarization process, and the fact that Argentina is an economy where many Argentines hold billions of dollars and have different concerns. There is also the need for the Argentine upper and upper-middle classes to remain strongly connected to international economic markets in different ways—financially and through exports. That’s very Argentinian.

Some elements are similar—pro-market attitudes, certain liberal ideas, anti-elitism, anti-left sentiment, an emphasis on social order, work ethic, discipline, crime and punishment, and punitive policies. But in terms of economic globalization—anti-tax sentiment, by the way, strongly anti-tax—in this respect, many aspects are very typically Argentine.

A Divided Peronism Searching for Renewal

Large crowds march nationwide in defense of public universities and state education in Argentina — one of the largest demonstrations of President Javier Milei’s government, with attendance estimates ranging from 100,000 to 500,000. The building with the image of Eva Perón can be seen in the background in Buenos Aires on April 23, 2024. Photo: Dreamstime.

Peronism has historically embodied a polyvalent synthesis of populism, nationalism, and social justice. How is the Peronist opposition reconstructing its ideological and discursive identity in the face of Milei’s anti-Peronist moral crusade and his attempt to redefine “the people” as entrepreneurial individuals rather than collective actors?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: A good question. First of all, one has to say that Peronism is in the process of reconstruction. It is deeply divided, and there is no clear national leadership. On the one hand, we have Cristina Fernández de Kirchner; on the other, other possible leaders, in particular Axel Kicillof, the governor of the province of Buenos Aires. And there might be other figures within Argentine Peronism who could move in different directions because Peronism is a very plastic, very flexible political creature. So, we don’t know exactly how it is going to evolve over the next couple of years. It’s clear that it has to change.

Historically, it has been the dominant force in Argentine politics, and it has now suffered a very humiliating defeat. The analysis of why this has happened is very complex. I would say that they will have to stick to the idea of social justice and reject many elements of the Milei platform. They don’t have alternatives in that respect. Otherwise, they will lose their reason for being, because if they are going to defend entrepreneurship and individual economic freedom, for that purpose people already have Macri, Milei, PRO, Libertad Avanza, and others. That is not possible.

They also have to appeal to trade unionists, organized labor, and new social sectors that are now more Peronist than in the past—or to sectors that are close to some elements of the Peronist platform, such as people who work at universities. So, they cannot change dramatically, but they must find a new balance, for sure. And that doesn’t mean that, when the situation is ripe, they won’t win. They could easily win future elections.

It depends on Milei’s economic performance, but it’s also true that they must find an economic platform to make national policy—and that is very difficult. Alberto Fernández totally failed. He was divided between different currents and tendencies and didn’t find an economic balance. It is possible that someone more pragmatic—let’s think, for instance, of Sergio Massa—someone very pragmatic, who might even be close to the center-right in some respects, could eventually win. This person could maintain some elements of Peronism but move in a more orthodox direction. That is possible.

But one must also keep in mind that Argentine economics and politics are highly volatile. We have many experiences of very drastic changes, and Peronism has the structure and the network to build something new on that basis.

Authoritarianism Is Weak in Argentina’s Political DNA

In comparative perspective, do you discern substantive parallels between Milei’s “chainsaw politics” and other neoliberal-populist experiments in Latin America—such as Fujimori’s authoritarian neoliberalism or Bolsonaro’s reactionary anti-globalism? How do Argentina’s institutional legacies and socio-political cleavages inflect these trajectories?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: There are some shared elements, for instance with Bolsonaro, in terms of rhetoric and economic direction. They clearly share certain themes—also with Fujimori, in his attempts to reshape the Peruvian economic framework and redefine the role of the state. On the other hand, there are important differences.

One of them is that authoritarianism in Argentina—and this is just an intuition, as there is not enough empirical evidence to confirm it definitively—is very weak. I would say so. Even the authoritarian project itself must be very weak. In fact, despite all the excesses, problems, and exaggerations, Milei hasn’t taken significant steps toward building authoritarian institutions.

That may have to do with Argentine popular culture, which is deeply democratic. It may also stem from the intensity of the trauma of the last authoritarian experience—the violence, the suffering, and the learning processes that led Argentine society to bid farewell to authoritarianism in 1983. It could also be related to the characteristics of Argentine civil and political society.

So, I don’t think an authoritarian transformation is taking place right now, and I don’t think it’s very likely. Bolsonaro attempted to do this; he failed. He failed, but at least he tried. I don’t imagine Milei doing the same. I’m not sure if he’s powerful enough, structurally speaking, within the broader right. The argument could be made that some social and economic sectors are using him, but they are not very strongly connected to him. The Argentine right is plural—there are other actors operating there—so I don’t see this happening.

A Cyclical Insurgency, Not a Structural Rupture

Inauguration ceremony of President Javier Milei at the National Congress in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on December 10, 2023. Photo: Fabian Alberto De Ciria.

Based on your long-standing research on party system dynamics and ideological structuring in Latin America, does Milei’s ascent represent a critical juncture in Argentina’s cleavage structure—a durable reconfiguration of the left–right and populist–technocratic axes—or rather a cyclical populist insurgency within an enduring Peronist framework?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: I would go for the second interpretation. It’s a modification, an intensification—there are significant changes—but the underlying structure remains the same. In that respect, my impression is that Macri’s victory was more important. Until Macri, you had the Peronists and the Radicals—Alfonsín, a Radical; then the Peronists; then Menem; then De la Rúa, who was a Radical, although he led a broad and plural coalition—and then again, the Peronists. With Macri, you had the emergence of a center-right coalition. It was not Radicalism; it was a new actor, one that was very strongly pro-business, pro-market, and so on.

So, Macri brought about a more important and enduring change, and Milei has intensified this in a way—with a new rhetoric, a new style, representing something different. But the structure of pro-market, pro–export-oriented versus protectionist, social-expenditure-driven, inflationary policies represented by Peronism remains in place. I don’t think that has changed.

Populist Style Loses Credibility Once in Office

How might we interpret the performative and aesthetic dimensions of Milei’s leadership, such as his rock-star persona, symbolic aggression, and social media theatrics, as mechanisms of discursive populist construction, mobilizing affective resonance in a post-institutional political environment?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: They are mechanisms—populist elements, populist styles—and shifts in that direction. I have no doubt about it. These elements are more powerful and usually more effective for politicians who are outside of power. They made much more sense and were more impactful in electoral terms when Milei was an outsider contending for the presidency.

Right now, I doubt that they contribute much to his success. The credibility of these elements tends to erode once a president has been in office for three or four years. So, I don’t think this will add much in the next presidential elections. He represents a different style, but it is not as credible. Now the economic alternatives are clear, and that’s what led to Milei’s triumph—not so much that he gave a concert saying, “I’m the Lion,” and so on. That’s my impression.

And who knows—perhaps in two years we will have a Peronist with a very disruptive style. It’s possible. By the way, in Argentine politics, Peronists are often disruptive in style, while the right and the Radicals tend to be more established figures. Milei has changed that, but Menem was also a disruptor—someone who represented something new in terms of style. Cristina Fernández de Kirchner was as well, in the way she spoke and mobilized. Eva Perón, too, in the past. Peronism has a long tradition in that respect, and it is interesting that Milei has taken it and transformed it in a different way, of course.

Peronism Will Likely Re-Emerge as Argentina’s Next Political Force

Murals of Eva Perón and Juan Domingo Perón in Buenos Aires, Argentina, on October 30, 2016. Photo: Dreamstime.

And the final question is: looking forward, do you foresee a durable transformation of Argentina’s political field toward a libertarian-populist realignment, or will economic contradictions, institutional inertia, and popular backlash catalyze the re-emergence of a renewed progressive or Peronist counter-populism capable of reclaiming “the people” from the right?

Professor Ivan Llamazares: A very ambitious question. We cannot predict the future, for sure. Many things can happen. We could also imagine that Milei is successful—it’s a possibility—that the macroeconomy begins to work in a Chilean way in the future. That’s a possibility. We don’t know.

But if I had to make a bet, I would say that this libertarian coalition will also face strong economic problems. I’m saying that not on the basis of any future anticipation, but on the basis of previous experiences. This might be wrong, but recent experiences since the 1970s suggest that it is very difficult for such complex economic and social systems to function smoothly. That’s why Argentine economists say it is very difficult to find a virtuous balance—a virtuous cycle—in Argentine economics, and that sooner or later governments face imbalances and bottlenecks that lead to reconfigurations.

So, I would expect—though I’m not sure if in two years or in four years—a crucial change, an oscillation. And I would assume that Peronism will play a key role in that change, that it will be able to lead a different coalition, and that coalition will have to represent something quite distinct from Milei’s policies. Will they, in the end, pursue the same policies as Cristina Fernández de Kirchner or Néstor Kirchner? Probably not. They would probably have to find a different policy. But I would expect a change in the next two to four years in Argentina’s economic policy.

Photo: Dreamstime.

What Is the Ideology That Has Attained Social Hegemony? Let Us Call It Simply “Nativism”

In this thought-provoking commentary, Dr. João Ferreira Dias argues that the dominant ideology underpinning contemporary right-wing movements is not populism or illiberalism, but nativism—a worldview centered on defending the “native” population against perceived external and internal threats. Drawing on theorists such as Cas Mudde, Ernesto Laclau, and Fareed Zakaria, Dr. Dias shows that while populism offers the form of political antagonism (“the people” versus “the elites”), nativism provides its substance: the protection of cultural and demographic identity against globalization and multiculturalism. Dr. Dias concludes that nativism’s emotional and existential appeal—rooted in fear of the “other” and longing for cultural homogeneity—has achieved social hegemony across much of the West.

By João Ferreira Dias

We often speak of populism, the radical right, or illiberalism. Yet, to truly understand the rise and entrenchment of the contemporary right, we may need to shift our analytical lens toward nativism. What unites right-wing populist leaders with individuals such as Mr. Armando, the bakery owner; Ms. Aurora, a civil servant; Uncle Venâncio, a retiree; or José Maria, a private school student, is not a coherent philosophical conception of the state. It is something more elemental and psychological: the belief that globalization and multiculturalism—especially in the form of immigration—are dismantling national identities.

When radical right-wing populism first emerged, it proved difficult to classify. While it drew from the Nouvelle Droite (Taguieff, 1993), it also contained a performative, mobilizing dimension, and a radicalism based on the division of society into “us” and “them.”

Cas Mudde (2007), a leading scholar in the field, defined this populism as a “thin-centered ideology,” rooted in the binary logic of “the pure people” versus “the corrupt elites.” Ernesto Laclau (2005), in contrast, identified populism as a political logic—a way of constructing the political—rather than a specific ideological content.

Generally, the radical right populism of recent decades rests on a threefold structure: (i) the moral division between the “pure people” and the “corrupt elites”; (ii) the defense of national identity against multiculturalism; and (iii) the combat against the political left, viewed as conspiring against Western values and the traditional family.

From a governmentality perspective, Fareed Zakaria (1997) introduced the concept of “illiberal democracy” to describe regimes that maintain electoral institutions while eroding liberal principles: consolidating power in a charismatic executive, weakening checks and balances, politicizing the judiciary, and overriding constitutional limits in the name of majority will.

However, illiberalism, in my view, is either inextricably tied to the radical right, or it remains conceptually ambiguous. In fact, the radical left also exhibits illiberal tendencies—engaging in practices such as censorship or moral cancellation—but in favor of minorities and a coercive form of progressive social purification, rather than a majoritarian ethos. This suggests that illiberalism is not exclusive to the right, nor is it sufficient to describe its ideological nucleus.

The term nativism, although first used in 19th-century America to describe anti-immigration movements such as the Know Nothings or the Ku Klux Klan, reemerged in modern academic discourse in the 1950s, particularly through John Higham’s Strangers in the Land (1955). In that work, Higham captures the sense of alienation experienced by native populations facing rapid demographic and cultural transformation.

In the 1990s, as scholarly attention to populism intensified, Paul Taggart and Hans-Georg Betz argued that modern right-wing populism was characterized by a fusion of three elements: populism, nativism, and authoritarianism (Betz, 1994; Taggart, 2000). In the following decade, Cas Mudde (2007) identified nativism as the core ideology of these parties, and populism as their political form. Later refinements clarified this conceptual division: populism provides the structure—the antagonism between “the people” and “the elites”—while nativism offers the content, namely the opposition between natives and foreigners (Mudde & Rovira Kaltwasser, 2017).

This clarification substantiates the central argument of this essay: that nativism should be analyzed as an ideology. Let us consider why.

First, the populist discourse of “us” versus “them” is not exclusive to the radical right. It is equally present on the radical left, which often constructs a similar dichotomy between “the people” and “the elites,” or between the “majority” and “minorities.” The difference lies in the subject being defended and the identity politics at play, rather than in the structure of the discourse.

Second, the radical right is not uniformly illiberal. It exhibits significant internal variation. Many such parties and movements are illiberal with respect to morality—advocating traditionalist or exclusionary cultural values—while remaining economically liberal. Others, though equally illiberal in terms of cultural values (a sine qua non), adopt statist economic models, defending welfare policies but restricting their benefits to the native population. Thus, illiberalism is not a constant across the radical right, but nativism is. It constitutes the shared ideological foundation that allows for otherwise divergent policy positions.

This is why it may be more accurate and analytically fruitful to define these movements simply as nativist, and their ideology as nativism. This classification applies to both political elites and voters alike.

At its core, the ideology’s resonance lies in the perceived demographic threat, most radically articulated in Renaud Camus’ “Great Replacement” theory. This idea has circulated widely, in varying intensities and local adaptations, across Western societies. As native populations decline demographically—due to lower birth rates—and immigration brings culturally distinct newcomers, a so-called “perfect demographic storm” is formed: the “demographic winter” of the native population collides with the “demographic summer” of incoming groups.

The result is a growing sense of existential threat, particularly toward Muslim immigrants, who are seen as both culturally incompatible and demographically ascendant. This sense of threat fuels resentment toward multiculturalism and the progressive left, which is often held responsible for promoting it. What emerges is a feeling of estrangement in one’s own homeland—a central affective dimension of modern nativism.

In sum, the ideology that has achieved social hegemony in many Western societies today is best understood not as populism or illiberalism, but as nativism: a worldview centered on the defense of the native population’s perceived interests, identity, and territorial integrity. Those who support nativist movements are not primarily mobilized by economic platforms, but by a profound distrust of the “other.” This “other” is not necessarily blamed for stealing jobs, but for competing for scarce welfare resources—access to schools, healthcare, housing—or even for altering the cultural landscape of spaces that once symbolized familiarity and social cohesion.

Biology reminds us that the presence of the “other” is often the most basic trigger in the formation of the “we.” Thus, what we are witnessing is not merely populism or illiberalism, but nativism at its core—an instinctive social reaction which, when politicized, seeks to defend what is perceived as the homeland (the nation) and protect those considered its rightful heirs.


 

References

Betz, H.-G. (1994). Radical Right-Wing Populism in Western Europe. Palgrave Macmillan.

Higham, J. (1955). Strangers in the Land: Patterns of American Nativism, 1860–1925. Rutgers University Press.

Laclau, E. (2005). On Populist Reason. Verso.

Mudde, C. (2007). Populist Radical Right Parties in Europe. Cambridge University Press.

Mudde, C., & Rovira Kaltwasser, C. (2017). Populism: A Very Short Introduction. Oxford University Press.

Taggart, P. (2000). Populism. Open University Press.

Taguieff, P. A. (1993). Origines et métamorphoses de la nouvelle droite. Vingtieme siecle. Revue d’histoire, 3-22.

Zakaria, F. (1997). The Rise of Illiberal Democracy. Foreign Affairs, 76(6), 22–43.