The Boy Who Cried Populism
Santiago Abascal, leader of the Spanish political party Vox, in a party rally in Galicia. (Vox, 2020)
In an age of pointed fingers, ad hominems, and hyper-partisanships, accusations of populism are widespread across the media. Yet, the term “populism,” used to attack those from all political leanings, is virtually never accompanied by a definition. The idea is related to the exploitation of the common man's struggles by demagogues, who gain power through emotional appeals and unfeasible commitments. Readers are expected to know what populism is. And this is easy, insofar as they are only asked to identify the effects that the phenomenon has had: far-right Prime Minister Viktor Orbán's rise in Hungary bolstering nationalism and xenophobia or the results of the Brexit referendum in the United Kingdom, for example.
The cultured reader has become afraid of the term. They are terrorized daily with troubling tales, bombarded by reminders of its threat to democracy. Nevertheless, to what exactly does “populism” refer?
In 1967, theorists met at the London School of Economics to demystify the concept. They determined that despite there being "no doubt about [its] importance… no one is clear what it is." Some coined the view that populism is an ideology, others a social movement—a few regarded populism as politically motivated over-spending, and others as a line of rhetoric. More than half a century later, there still exists much debate, with the Oxford Handbook of Populism assembling a staggering nine-hundred-page analysis of diverging views.
So, what does populism look like?
Take Madrid, a cosmopolitan capital beautified by the richness of its past and the vastness of its culture. In the epicenter of the affluent Barrio de Salamanca lies the Plaza de Colón, where one may find supporters of the extreme-right party, Vox. In a sea of national and party flags, the air rings with Euro-skeptic cries, pleas against women's rights laws, and, above all, merciless criticisms of all those who disagree.
A mere fifteen-minute metro ride south, banners of blazing purple begin to emerge, the color of the extreme-left party, Unidas Podemos. Once again, the passerby is drowned in screams in unison, this time advocating for the redistribution of private property from citizens within certain economic brackets, the increase of taxes for all corporations, and correspondingly, a rejection of all other views.
Spain’s divided politics illuminate populism’s true nature; it is not a doctrine. American political theorist Kurt Weyland considers it to be a "political strategy” in which a sensationalist leader gains power directly from a disorganized following. In other words, populism is a tactic used to procure power from ‘the people.’ Populist leaders can appear across the political spectrum because it is not an ideology.
Populism is active. Rather than a cause, it is the tool employed to mobilize a group in its favor. It often takes the form of 'us vs. them': for Santiago Abascal, president of Vox, the will of the people is threatened by the 'villainous left,’ which seeks to disrupt national identity and the traditional way of life to which his followers latch an emotional hold. For Pablo Iglesias, founder and former Secretary-General of Unidas Podemos, the oppressive elite is to blame for his supporters' misfortunes. There are many similarities. Followers of both enjoy a seemingly personal connection with their leaders—trust. A shared social background or experience is used to captivate them and build an emotional attachment to the party, which acts as their protector. They are made to believe their group is ‘under attack’ by the establishment. This is crucial: when they support an absolute, indisputable good, those who reject it can become the enemy. But still, scapegoating is not the sole trademark of populism.
An emotional rather than factual base allows populisms to be pervasive. The rise of Vox stemmed as a counter-reaction to the separatist movement in Cataluña. With promises of 'making Spain great again', they soon beguiled a torn nation. Their impassioned speeches moved voters from the traditional right, the Partido Popular (PP), which had remained pragmatic. Vox claimed to be the only true defender of Spain and its citizens. Conversely, Podemos surfaced as a party that was neither "left-wing nor right-wing,” instead calling itself a movement of "reform.” Iglesias was the "ordinary man,” voicing an abhorrence towards the Spanish political system, which he insisted was corrupt and tyrannical.
A populist’s aim is to gain and preserve power, and they gain it through veneers of heroism, rhetoric, and policy. This is why populists lack coherence in their platforms; the political view to which they adhere must be liked. This often leads to obscurity, instead of positions with a well-defined ideology. Populist rhetoric is vague and opportunistic, well-sounding to potential voters. There is a lack of structure, which leads to confusion when understanding the term. Populism is not necessarily extremist, but personalistic.
Abascal and Iglesias were able to thrive by radicalizing their respective followings through emotional appeals. Indeed, Spain’s formerly two-party system has expanded to include polarizing views that have amassed millions of voters.
Sofía Prado Arenzana (GS ‘25) is a staff writer at CPR and a candidate in the Dual BA Program with the Paris Institute of Political Science, Sciences Po Paris, hoping to major in Political Science and Economics-Statistics.