Who’s afraid of the populist revolt?

Too often, it is assumed that the spectacular rise of populist parties across the West has fueled discontent about a host of issues, from mass migration to reactions against EDI policies. We are told that if it weren’t for those charismatic populist leaders – political snake-oil salesmen – stirring the pot, there would far be less hostility to establishment institutions and mainstream parties.

But in his forthcoming book, Professor Frank Furedi argues this gets things the wrong way round. In fact, the enthusiasm for populist movements, he argues, arises from a prior popular demand for a new politics, driven by those who feel that their concerns have been systematically ignored.

The fact that so many professional political observers seem to have been taken by surprise at the sudden surge in electoral support for populist parties across Europe says much about official indifference to the long-standing frustrations that have been brewing for years. To those paying attention, these tensions were all too evident.

The populist zeitgeist seems to transcend particular problems faced by different countries. Populists are on the up in America, Germany, France, Italy, and even Japan. What do they all have in common? Yes, individual populist politicians and parties come in all shapes and sizes, with eccentric policies and political cranks, yet they all give voice to a sense of political and social homelessness, economic dislocation, deindustrialisation, feeling left behind by globalisation, and the disorienting effect of mass migration. This populist spirit shares an attachment to ideals like popular and national sovereignty, majoritarian democracy, and the search for pride in the nation.

Those in legacy parties who assume there’s a weakness in movements that don’t provide detailed legislative programmes miss a key point. Furedi argues that the populist mood is more cultural, existential and focused on values. There’s a general desire by the public that their wishes are at last taken seriously and not sneered at; that their traditions and customs are respected and not smeared as outdated and backward.

There’s undoubtedly a feeling in the air that enough is enough: that the era of being patronised by those who presume they know better about how ordinary people should live is being stridently rejected. But does this sensibility equate with an ideology? Can the sometimes-chaotic parties that are the vehicles for allowing more and more people to find their voice have any sustainable moral authority? If it’s concluded that we should vote now and sort out the details later, is there a danger of disappointment if the insurgent populist parties fail to deliver?

Is national populism any more than a democratic vibe? Does the political establishment’s dubbing of populism as ‘far right’ stand up to scrutiny, especially when more leftist and green movements are describing themselves as populist? Are we on the brink of a new and vibrant democratic era?