Rise of the Right
Far-right populism is spreading across Europe, driven by a surge in nationalist organisations. If the EU is incapable of dealing with this rise, what hope is there for other regions without such a history of openness?
Words kieranyates
Illustration Mitch Blunt
Once Britain’s vote to leave the European Union had finally sunk in, questions were immediately posed about what this would mean for the future of European relations. Was this the beginning of an international discontent? Would other European referenda follow? And how much were the sentiments that galvanised the vote in Britain echoed across the other member states?
A closer look at our neighbours reveals the established, deeply-driven far- right inclinations in many European countries. It’s a trait that former UKIP leader Nigel Farage cashed in on immediately after the referendum, announcing a tour to encourage leaders to call for their own independence votes, stoking the fires that were flickering, and in some places, already fully ablaze.
The European Union is a significant body within which to explore this shift to the right, primarily because of its origins. Born from a desire for peace following the Second World War, its first iteration emerged in 1958 — then named the European Economic Community (EEC) — based upon the premise that economic cooperation and interdependence between countries would make them less likely to enter into conflict. The European Union that we now recognise came into being in 1993, and today has 28 member states with a total population of 500 million, with governance over issues beyond economics: climate, environment, health, and of course, migration.
Prior to the global migration crisis, it seems fair to say that the history of the EU had been largely positive. After all, in 2012 the EU won the Nobel Peace Prize for over six decades of contribution “to the advancement of peace and reconciliation, democracy and human rights in Europe.”
“The anti-immigration line is one that has galvanised far-right populism across most of Europe. The ideological fear of ‘The Other’ provides a neat answer to deep-rooted historical fears.”
Today you don’t have to look far to find people who think otherwise. In Germany, the nationalist Alternative for Deutschland (AfD), who controversially call for a ban on building new mosques, won 25% of the state election in March. Marine Le Pen’s Front Nationale, characterised by anti-semitic and racist language across her campaign, won 28% in the first round of French elections. In the Netherlands, the anti-Islam Party for Freedom, led by Geert Wilders, holds 12 seats in parliament and calls for the closing of all Islamic schools. In Greece, neo-fascists Golden Dawn are the country’s third largest party. In Hungary, PM Viktor Orban has described migrants as “poison,” and advocates for the EU to reverse its policy on migrants by rounding them up and sending them to camps beyond its borders. The Swedish Democrats, led by Jimmie Akesson, have 48 of 349 seats in their national parliament and are closely linked with white supremacy. In Slovakia, the People’s Party, Our Slovakia, won 8% of the vote in 2016. Leader Marian Kotleba is on record as saying,“even one immigrant is one too many.” In short, it appears that the EU’s formative values of reconciliation are being increasingly undermined.
Of course, these examples don’t reflect the thinking of whole populations. Even so, they demonstrate a startling shift in sentiment within the member states that is very much at odds with its 2012 prize-winning brand.
Much of this political shift is seen as a win for far-right populism. Populism, which refers to an ideology that speaks to the concerns of “ordinary” people, has been responsible for gains both on the left and right. On the left, we’ve seen politicians like Bernie Sanders, Jeremy Corbyn, Yanis Varoufakis, and Pablo Iglesias accuse the establishment of betraying the people, laying blame for socio-economic struggle at the feet of bankers, corrupt politicians, and neoliberal agendas. On the far-right, Nigel Farage, Donald Trump, Marine Le Pen, and Viktor Orban suggest the establishment has coddled different minority and immigrant groups: Muslims, Latinos, single mothers.
The anti-immigration line is one that has galvanised far-right populism across most of Europe. The ideological fear of The Other, of economic strain and increased crime, has all been well documented in the mainstream media, and provides a neat answer to deep-rooted historical fears and economic issues. As a result, migration has become one of the biggest political preoccupations in modern history.
The fear of immigrant asphyxiation has been expertly spun. In reality, recent polls suggest that many European citizens grossly misrepresent the number of both Muslims and immigrants in their home countries. Italian, German, and Belgian respondents to the Ipsos MORI Politics of Perception all guessed that more than a fifth of the resident population was Muslim. In reality the gure ranges from 3.7% in Italy to 7% in Belgium.
Understanding the historical fears of Europe’s member states is crucial to understanding the psychology of populism, and looking back can lend an insight into where we are now. Dan Trilling, author of Bloody Nasty People: The Rise of Britain’s Far Right argues that these nationalisms have historical grounding.
“If you take Poland, for example, it was colonised, not a coloniser, so there is a deep-rooted fear of invasion and being dominated,” he says. “Or take Hungary, which has positioned itself as Europe’s last defence against Islamic hordes. That’s because historically, Hungary was part of these imperial struggles where Islam was pitted against Christianity.”
While far-right populists have been effective in amplifying fears of immigration through expert political rhetoric, the war in countries like France is fought on the cultural frontlines. Certainly, there was a noticeable shift after the attack on Charlie Hebdo in 2015, which stirred up debate around whether free speech and satire — staples of French civilised culture and society — were under threat. Terrorist attacks have had this effect across Europe, and as a result the treatment of Muslims and refugees has been increasingly devoid of nuance.
This protection of values across Europe is as much about the past as the present. In France and the UK, much of the rhetoric is about returning to empire — to colonial power and strength. In Austria and Hungary the abstract fear of invasion and occupation is enough to warrant border protection from enemies that remain unknown.
It’s important to note that not all parties on the right are single issue policy-pushers; these are politics of ideology, and alongside immigration and Euroscepticism there is a an agenda to return to traditional values. In Poland, the nationalist Law and Justice party (PiS) has launched an attack on abortion, while Marine Le Pen is an advocate for “family as the foundation of the nation.”
It would also be amiss not to mention the effect the global financial crisis has had on Europe. The legacy of bank bailout, austerity, and a brain drain from East to West have all destabilised the member states — the migration crisis, in many cases, pushing existing tensions to boiling point.
Last year, I spoke to a supporter of Poland’s nationalist Law and Justice party (PiS), butcher Michal Gebala. “The EU gives us too many trade restrictions” he told me. “We can’t smoke ham in the same way we used to, we can’t sell fruit and vegetables on the street. I remember the way my grandmother prepared food as a boy and I cannot do the same for my children.”
Trilling says that economics have contributed to the kind of disillusionment Gebala mentions. “There is a kind of complicated mix of feelings stirred up by globalisation — of certain kinds of borders coming down, of businesses able to trade internationally with ease, of capital moving around the world. Communications and culture are more mobile than ever before, which all contributes to populations becoming dislocated in different countries. It leads to voters choosing more exclusionary and nationalist kinds of politics which enable them to express a kind of frustration with a system they feel is broken.”
“2017 may bear witness to the EU’s disintegration, and a dystopian return to the worst part of our modern history.”
For many immigrants, Europe’s new status quo means that the world appears to have become smaller. If the fearmongering proliferates, maps of Europe will slowly cease to represent safe homes for brown families, women with hijabs, or other vilified migrants, the rise of nationalism-as-the-norm making ‘free’ movement more concept than reality.
Migrant networks will certainly have to work harder to repair relations. Speaking to teacher Shazia Al-Salahi, a Syrian and current resident of Germany, she explains how Europe looks to her now. “I feel like I have no home, because now I’m not welcome anywhere,” she says. “Europe and Germany were my lifesavers. I thought it was civilised and accepting but everyday on the news I see sisters being harassed and I wonder if it’s like this everywhere.”
At the end of 2016, Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban celebrated far-right parties as the “real freedom fighters,” and made this lofty declaration: “I say that 2017 will be a year of rebellion.” In many ways, he might be right: 2017 may bear witness to the EU’s disintegration, and a dystopian return to the worst part of our modern history. For those already living inside change, in countries like the UK, citizens are taking active steps to challenge, create resistance, and open doors where they appear closed. The real rebellion will happen on the streets, in solidarity, and in mobilising the masses for whom the far-right cannot speak. It will be interesting to see where we end up.
This is article is from Weapons of Reason’s fourth issue: Power.
Weapons of Reason is a publishing project to understand and articulate the global challenges shaping our world by Human After All design agency.
