The rise of right-wing populism in Europe, often characterized by figures like Viktor Orbán in Hungary and Jörg Haider in Austria, is not merely a reaction to domestic discontent but a broader challenge to what many view as an increasingly authoritarian European Union. The real conflict, it seems, lies between national sovereignty and a supranational body that increasingly dictates policy to its member states often without democratic accountability. For critics, the EU has become a ‘hyperstate’ of unelected officials who meddle in everyday life, from immigration quotas to economic policy, and even the limits of free speech.
Italian writer Ignazio Silone, reflecting on fascism’s many faces, famously remarked, “If fascism returns, it will not say, ‘I am fascism.’ No, it will say, ‘I am anti-fascism.’” Silone, who had experienced the Stalinist purges firsthand, coined the term “red fascism” to describe how authoritarianism could emerge under the guise of liberation or even democracy. His insight is eerily prescient today, as governments and institutions weaponize the rhetoric of anti-fascism to silence dissent.
Austrian author Thomas Glavinic, reflecting on modern European politics, argues that elections offer little real choice. National policies, from immigration to digital censorship, are increasingly dictated by the EU’s technocrats - individuals who are not accountable to voters but whose decisions shape the lives of millions. As Glavinic cynically observes, elections are little more than a “collective hallucination” of democracy, a spectacle in which the electorate’s influence is negligible.
For many Europeans, this erosion of national sovereignty has created a backlash, particularly among those who feel that traditional values and local interests are being sacrificed at the altar of a distant, unaccountable bureaucracy. The rise of populist movements, whether it is Orbán’s Fidesz party in Hungary or the FPÖ in Austria, is seen as an “earthquake” shaking the foundations of European politics. Yet, instead of engaging with the legitimate concerns of these movements - immigration, economic inequality or the erosion of national identity - the political establishment has often resorted to vilifying them as proto-fascist threats to democracy.
Jörg Haider’s rise in Austria, for example, was met with widespread condemnation by the European elite, who painted him as a new Hitler. His nostalgia for pre-war Austria and critique of unchecked immigration provided an easy narrative for his detractors to frame him as an extremist. Yet Haider’s appeal lay precisely in his ability to speak for the ‘little people’— those who felt alienated by a political system dominated by technocrats and entrenched elites. Instead of addressing these grievances, the establishment used moral panic to delegitimize popular discontent, a tactic that has since become standard across Europe in dealing with right-wing populists.
This moral framing has allowed the EU and its defenders to present themselves as the guardians of liberal democracy while systematically stripping away the very freedoms they claim to protect. The EU’s push for regulations against disinformation and hate speech on digital platforms is a prime example. Under the guise of protecting public discourse, the EU has given itself the power to decide what constitutes acceptable speech.
The rise of conservative and nationalist movements across Europe is thus framed as a rebellion against this creeping technocratic authoritarianism. These movements are often described as anti-democratic, yet their core message is one of reclaiming national self-determination. As in Austria, where the FPÖ’s victory was described as an “earthquake,” the populist surge is not a simple matter of left versus right. It is a revolt against the patronizing paternalism of a Brussels elite that increasingly governs Europe in a top-down, neo-feudal manner.
Looking at the antics of functionaries like Thierry Breton or Ursula von der Leyen, the EU has no longer anything to do with popular rule of whatever kind. And against this background, the alleged anti-fascism in an anti-racist guise is just a sham, through which mighty apparatchiks justify their ever more comprehensive claim to power.
The need to be counted among the ‘good guys’ and to generate moral capital by elevating oneself above the alleged ‘bad guys’ is as old as the hills, often achieved by demeaning others based on race, religion, or worldview. It is much more strenuous to proceed according to traditional rules, discuss conflicts openly and resolve contrary interests through compromise. But I prefer that, as it is the only way that allows the dignity of all parties concerned to be respected.
Two years after the bloody defeat of the Italian fascists and the German Nazis, on 11 November 1947, Winston Churchill said: “Many forms of government have been tried, and will be tried in this world of sin and woe. No one claims that democracy is perfect or all-knowing. Indeed, it can be said that democracy is the worst form of government, apart from all the others that have been tried from time to time.”
The future of Europe will be determined not by whether it can stamp out the populist right, but whether it can restore faith in democracy itself. If it fails, the continent risks sliding into the very authoritarianism it claims to oppose.
(The author is an historian and novelist who writes historically-aware crime fiction. He is currently working on a book on Germany’s migration crisis. Views personal.)
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