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| 15 Aug 2025 | |
| Written by Johnba Canavesi Sosa | |
| Blogs: "Perspectives, Provocations & Initiatives" |
When IDS teachers started chasing us with the ghost of the research question, I began thinking about this new wave of populist leaders in the West.
I still remember how surprising it was when Trump won his first election. Back then, it felt like a joke that had suddenly come true. But eight years later, he won again, and as a friend told me: “It could only be a surprise the first time.”
If he managed to win again, there must be something deeper that connected with people. As an old-fashioned nerd in love with the idea of a great deliberative democracy, I have been struggling with the paradox of our times: in country after country, voters are choosing leaders who seem determined to erode democracy.
How can people in the United States support a man who described the takeover of the Capitol as “a beautiful day” and justified massive deportations by calling Mexican immigrants “rapists”? How can Hungarians continue to back Orbán after he said that he does not want his country to “be a mixed race”? Leaders around the world use hate speech as a polarisation strategy, normalising division and weakening the pluralism on which democracy depends.
This kind of rhetoric often goes hand in hand with the intention of concentrating executive power, sidelining the courts, weakening the media, and bending the rules that are supposed to hold leaders accountable. The problem with populists is not only that they incite hatred against certain groups; they also undermine the institutions that are supposed to protect everyone.
The real threat to democracy today is not the authoritarianism of the classic 20th century coup. Instead, it is a gradual erosion whereby institutions remain standing but are hollowed out from within.1
A toxic relationship between voters and their leader
For anyone studying democracy, the rise of populists who are elected through the ballot box is a cause for concern. While they may win democratic contests, they often go on to break the rules that got them elected. This is often done through electoral fraud and dismantling checks and balances.2 For example, Donald Trump’s supporters storming the U.S. Capitol3 or Nicolás Maduro likely rigging Venezuela’s 2024 election.4
Being a populist does not automatically make someone an authoritarian, but the rhetoric they use often justifies their abuse of power.5 Over time, many such cases follow a familiar pattern. Additionally, most people vote for authoritarians because they like authoritarianism. They choose them during times of crisis, drawn by their promises to restore dignity, security, and control. As Fukuyama notes, such leaders arise when mainstream politics has failed to solve everyday problems.6
It's like being in a toxic relationship: you know they might harm you, yet you can't help but be charmed by them. Consider Chávez in Venezuela, who portrayed multinational corporations as the cause of poverty,7 or Bukele, who presents gang violence as an existential threat that only he can overcome. In both cases, everyday problems such as crime and inflation are reframed as urgent national emergencies. This allows the leader to step into the role of heroic saviour and bypass checks and balances in the name of efficiency.8
The Architecture of Populist Storytelling
Fascinatingly, these leaders often use the same basic storytelling formula, regardless of time, country, or ideology. Elaborating on Laclau's9 classic division between 'the people' and 'the elite', María Esperanza Casullo described a “populist myth” with three parts. Pay attention and you will see that every populist discourse includes these elements:
Us: the virtuous people.
The Villain: corrupt elites or dangerous outsiders.
The Hero’s Mission: a leader who will defeat the villain and redeem the nation.10
A fourth interesting feature to consider is the tone. These narratives are intended to inflame public passions, often negative ones, through emotionally charged language.11 Opponents are painted as existential threats, disagreement as betrayal, and compromise as weakness.
This style travels easily across countries and decades, adapting to local fears. Perón portrayed workers as the heart of the nation and oligarchs as the enemy. Trump spoke of “forgotten Americans” abandoned by Washington elites. Orbán describes Hungarians as protectors of European Christian civilisation against immigrant “invasions.”12 The same pattern goes over and over, just old wine in new bottles.
Chicken or pasta: performance vs. cultural narratives
Once the formula is clear, all you need to do is fill it with content. Who will be your villain? What is the major crisis that only the leader can solve?
In my research, I’ve found that all these discourses can be grouped into two main categories, each with its own way of drawing people in.
Performance narratives focus on everyday needs (jobs, security, health care, etc.) framed as urgent crises elites cannot or will not resolve. The message is that only extraordinary measures can deliver results. This is the logic behind Bukele’s mass incarceration of suspected gang members or Javier Milei’s promise to dismantle the state “caste”.
Cultural narratives exploit fears that traditional values or national identity are under threat, insisting that the “true people” must reclaim their rightful place. This explains Orbán’s anti immigration stance or Bolsonaro’s rhetoric against feminism and LGBTQ+ rights.
Performance narratives often undermine checks and balances, while cultural narratives tend to threaten human rights, particularly for minorities. Both can erode democracies, yet voters may embrace certain aspects while overlooking the dangers.
Don’t hate the player, hate the game
While it is tempting to be angry with people for voting for leaders who use provocative and polarising language, blaming voters alone misses the point. Protecting democracy requires governments to address the everyday problems that fuel discontent so that people are less drawn to leaders who offer simplistic solutions at democracy’s expense.13 At the same time, citizens must play a more active role in defending their rights and resisting polarisation. The challenge lies not only in rejecting destructive narratives (they will not disappear) but also in building a better narrative together, one in which solving daily problems and protecting freedoms go hand in hand.
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References
ALL OUR STORIES ARE NO MORE THAN GAPS IN LITERATURE