Interview with Steven Forti, Professor of Contemporary History and specialist in far-right

Steven Forti: “The Left Must Once Again Engage in the Cultural Struggle”

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Andreu Navarra

Steven Forti, Professor of Contemporary History at the Autonomous University of Barcelona, has recently published Democracias en extinción. El espectro de las autocracias electorales  (Akal), a book that delves into and updates the research he previously conducted in Extrema derecha 2.0. Qué es y cómo combatirla (Siglo XXI, 2021). He is also currently the local coordinator of the European research project ‘Analysis of and Response to Extremist Narratives’ (ARENAS).

How can a liberal democracy regenerate itself?
That is the million-dollar question… From what we are witnessing, it seems that very few people within the “corridors of power” have the answer. Nevertheless, some key ideas can be put forward. Firstly, it is imperative to curb the power of both new and old “oligarchs” by restraining the more unbridled aspects of capitalism. Secondly, we must strengthen and indeed regenerate intermediary bodies—democratic parties, trade unions, associations, and the like—which today are mere shadows of their former selves. Thirdly, the media system must be democratised, both in relation to traditional media and the digital sphere. Fourthly, we must rebuild the social bonds that neoliberalism and new technologies have increasingly unravelled, leaving our societies fragmented and atomised.

Without democratic control over major economic powers, without active intermediary bodies rooted in local communities, without a truly plural media system, without the democratisation of the digital sphere, and without a robust, organised, and politically engaged civil society, liberal democracies cannot endure for much longer. They may not transform into outright dictatorships or electoral autocracies overnight, but they will gradually wither away amidst the general indifference of the population.

«Over the past fifteen years, more and more countries have shifted from being full democracies to electoral or closed autocracies»

According to your research, 71% of the global population now lives under a dictatorship or autocracy. Quite staggering, isn’t it?
It is dramatic—there is no other way to describe it. What is even more concerning is that, for the first time since the Second World War, we are experiencing a de-democratisation wave that, to make matters worse, appears unending. Over the past fifteen years, an increasing number of countries have transitioned from full democracies to electoral or closed autocracies. Up until 2009, despite occasional progress and setbacks or debatable results, the prevailing trend was the opposite: more and more countries were gradually democratising. That is no longer the case. Hungary, at the heart of the European Union, as well as Israel, India, and El Salvador, are paradigmatic examples. Before them, we had Russia and Venezuela. Now, perhaps, the United States will follow suit… Some argue that these developments are cyclical, that similar shifts have occurred before in modern history, and that, eventually, the order will be restored. Frankly, I am not so optimistic. There are two crucial distinctions. Firstly, in most cases, autocratisation is no longer achieved through military coups but through the gradual hollowing out of democracy by leaders who were initially democratically elected. Secondly, these processes often enjoy the support of a segment—sometimes even the majority—of the population, which has experienced, at least to some extent, what it means to live under a liberal democratic system.

Liberal democracy, emergency governance, administrative states, zombie democracy… These are some of the concepts discussed in your book—symptoms that herald the arrival of electoral autocracies.
All these terms reflect the considerable difficulty in defining the type of democracy we live in today. This is, in fact, a broader issue. We frequently use the prefix “post-” to describe various phenomena: post-communism, post-fascism, post-liberalism, post-Fordism, postmodernism… We seem to have run out of words to describe this new era—or perhaps we simply cannot find the right ones. At the turn of the millennium, British political scientist Colin Crouch coined the term “post-democracy” to describe liberal democracies that were increasingly controlled by a narrow economic elite. His intuition was correct, yet few took it into account. If the far right is winning elections today, it is because something is fundamentally broken in our democracies. The far right is a symptom, not the root cause, of the crisis afflicting liberal democracy worldwide.

How would you define ‘neoliberalism’?
Strictly speaking, neoliberalism can be defined as an economic theory advocating the reduction of state intervention. This would bring us to the Austrian School and thinkers such as von Mises, Hayek, and Friedman. However, I believe neoliberalism is much more than that—it is a Weltanschauung, a worldview and a societal paradigm. Neoliberalism has shaped an imaginary that profoundly influences our daily lives. If you will, neoliberalism is the explicit assertion that social conflict neither can nor should exist or be tolerated, and that liberty and equality cannot and should not go hand in hand. When Javier Milei proclaims that “social justice is abhorrent,” he is merely stating, without rhetorical subterfuge, the core ideological tenet of neoliberalism, stripping away its erstwhile “progressive” façade—namely, the defence of open societies and multiculturalism, which, until recently, had been part of its mainstream narrative.

«As the French sociologist Philippe Corcuff rightly noted, ideologies still exist. They shape and define our worldview»

You argue that the term ‘populism’ is problematic from a historical and analytical perspective. Why?
Because it explains nothing. Many claim that populism is an ideology, but there is no coherent doctrinal corpus shared by so-called populist movements and parties. Supposedly, there are far-right populists, radical left populists, and even centrist populists. In France, both Marine Le Pen and Jean-Luc Mélenchon, as well as Emmanuel Macron, have been labelled as populists. But if everyone is a populist, what utility does the concept serve? At best, populism can be understood as a political style, a strategy, or a mode of political logic. In other words, we live in an era in which appeals to the people —whatever one may choose to understand by this “empty signifier”, to use Ernesto Laclau’s term—are incessant. Beneath these appeals, however, lie distinct ideological foundations. Le Pen is not a populist—she is a far-right leader who employs populist rhetoric. If we accept the populist paradigm, we risk erasing the very existence of political ideologies. And despite the ideological confusion of recent years, as Philippe Corcuff aptly pointed out, ideologies still exist. They shape and define our worldview.

How does one combat an electoral autocracy?

One ought to ask Hungarian, Turkish, or Russian democratic activists—at least those who are still alive and not languishing in maximum-security prisons, accused of terrorism. The issue is that, once established, an electoral autocracy is exceedingly difficult to overthrow—to put it euphemistically. Erdoğan and Putin have remained in power for over twenty years, Orbán for more than fifteen. The struggle must take place primarily beforehand, and with urgency, in countries taking their first steps towards autocratisation. At present, for instance, in the United States, Italy, or Argentina. In El Salvador, it is already too late. In Israel, probably as well, unless something changes swiftly. The only successful case—at least for the time being—is Poland, where, after eight years of Law and Justice rule, the opposition has managed to win the elections and unseat the far-right government that was closely following Orbán’s example. Civil society has been pivotal. Without this element, there is no path forward. However, let us be clear: the battle has not yet been won in Poland. Far from it.

What are Modi, Erdoğan, Putin, and Duterte?

Authoritarian leaders. Two American political scientists, Steven Levitsky and Lucan Way, have coined the term “competitive authoritarianism” to describe the type of regime established in cases such as these. Ideologically, it is not particularly meaningful to define them as fascists or far-right. It is evident that they are not progressives, and that they are nationalists and ultraconservatives, yet applying the categories of left and right to non-Western countries is highly problematic. Left and right are concepts that originated with the French Revolution. If one prefers, we might say that Modi, Erdoğan, Putin, and Duterte are authoritarian ultraconservative nationalists.

«It is not difficult to understand that Berlusconi was, in every sense, Trump before Trump»

Why was Silvio Berlusconi so significant?

Essentially, for two reasons. Firstly, because he was the first post-Second World War European leader to legitimise neo-fascism as a governing force. The Italian Social Movement, founded in 1946 by veterans of the Republic of Salò, entered Berlusconi’s executive in 1994. That moment marked a turning point. In 2000, it was Austria’s turn, with Jörg Haider’s FPÖ entering government in Vienna. More recently, the so-called “cordon sanitaire” has collapsed in multiple contexts. In short, Berlusconi signalled that the right, which had accepted the democratic rules of the game after 1945, should not look down upon the extremists positioned further to its right—they were “tameable” political allies. At the same time, Berlusconi was instrumental in what we now call culture wars: the founder of Forza Italia launched a full-scale assault against the anti-fascist consensus that had underpinned the Italian Republic, appropriating and popularising for decades, in his own way, slogans and themes long propagated by the far right. Secondly, Berlusconi imported a distinctly American mode of politics, leveraging television as a means to secure popular support. He was not the only one to attempt this at the time, but he was by far the most successful. Against this backdrop, it is easy to grasp why Berlusconi was, in every sense, Trump before Trump.

Who is Alain de Benoist?

A French neo-fascist intellectual and activist who, in the late 1960s, recognised that, in order to stand a chance of attaining political hegemony in the future, the far right needed to engage in the cultural battle. De Benoist, from a neo-fascist perspective, read the works of the Italian communist thinker Antonio Gramsci, who, during the interwar years, from within the fascist prisons, developed the concept of cultural hegemony. De Benoist adopted a selective interpretation of Gramsci’s thought, omitting key elements. Nevertheless, he laid the groundwork for what is now known as the metapolitical strategy: the ideological rearmament of the right with the aim of influencing the media, public discourse, and existing political parties, thereby shifting the so-called “Overton window”—the range of acceptable public discourse—towards far-right positions. De Benoist is not a puppet master controlling Le Pen, Orbán, Meloni, Trump, or Kickl, but he has charted a course that the far right has, explicitly or implicitly, followed since the 1980s. This is the fallout from past events.

Let us move back in time. How did you come across Óscar Pérez Solís’s work? Why did it interest you?

It was during the years of my doctoral thesis. I was researching political defectors in interwar Europe—leaders who transitioned from the left to fascism. In Italy, I had already identified around twenty high-, mid-, and lower-ranking political figures who, between the First and Second World Wars, abandoned communism, socialism, or revolutionary syndicalism to embrace Mussolini’s fascism—which, incidentally, was the “first” instance of such a defection. Some did so out of opportunism; others out of conviction. History is never a straight line—it often takes unexpected turns. In France, I found a comparable number of cases. However, at the time—this was around 2006–2007—Spain remained largely unexplored from a historiographical perspective. It was in this context that I encountered Pérez Solís, a decidedly peculiar figure: a career military officer in the early 20th century, then an anarchist, later a socialist in Valladolid during the 1910s, a founder of the Spanish Communist Workers’ Party, and one of the leading figures in the small Spanish Communist Party during the 1920s. In 1927, imprisoned in Montjuïc by Primo de Rivera’s dictatorship, he converted to Catholicism, abandoned communism, and gradually aligned himself with the Castilian regionalist right. During the Second Republic, he radicalised to the extent of serving as a liaison for the rebels in Oviedo in July 1936. Until his death in 1951, he remained a Falangist journalist and propagandist.

«We must return to the values of the Enlightenment, which, in truth, is the ultimate target of all far-right attacks»

How can the education system help prevent the rise of illiberal regimes?

First, by fostering critical thinking in younger generations. Without critical thinking, there are no free citizens. Second, by explaining that democracy is an ongoing project, whose very survival depends on the participation of each of us. Without an engaged citizenry, there is no res publica. Third, by clarifying that there is no freedom without equality: we must return to the values of the Enlightenment, which, in truth, is the ultimate target of all far-right attacks. Fourth, by promoting digital literacy—that is, by equipping citizens to detect fake news and disinformation spread across social media (and, it must be said, in traditional media as well).

What is the “far right 2.0”? Is it fascism?

The term “far right 2.0” is one I have proposed precisely to bring an end to the endless debate over whether figures such as Trump, Meloni, Le Pen, Abascal, Milei, or Orbán should be classified as fascists. Let us be clear: to say they are not fascists does not mean they do not pose a threat to the very survival of democratic systems. They are simply something different from historical fascism, even if certain continuities exist, to varying degrees, depending on the national context. The fundamental issue is that we cannot trivialise fascism by applying it to any political project that is nationalist, racist, and authoritarian. As the Italian historian Emilio Gentile has argued, historical fascism possessed core elements—such as totalitarianism, the party-militia, and a palingenetic vision—that, for now, are absent in the new far right.

«With the term ‘far right 2.0’, I have, somewhat provocatively, sought to emphasise that we are dealing with something that, while rooted in the past, is also distinctly new»

With the term ‘far right 2.0’, I have, somewhat provocatively, sought to emphasise that we are dealing with something that, while rooted in the past, is also distinctly new. This new far right is the product of the ideological transformations and adaptations initiated by de Benoist and the Nouvelle Droite in the 1960s, but it is also a child of new technologies, which it has mastered earlier and more effectively than others to spread its discourse and ideas, thereby facilitating its normalisation.

Finally, my aim has also been to highlight that we are dealing with a vast global network. Despite any differences they may have on specific issues, these political leaders share the vast majority of ideological references, as well as political and communicative strategies. They themselves see one another as part of the same extended family: one need only look at their personal relationships and the dense web of foundations, think tanks, and associations they are connected to.

How should the left respond to this deeply concerning political landscape?
The left must reignite the cultural battle. The far right has been steadily working hard for decades and is now reaping the rewards. Engaging in the cultural battle means offering a hopeful vision of the future—one that is inclusive and expansive. It must reject both the siren calls of neoliberalism and the ideological puritanism that leads to self-imposed isolation. At the same time, the left must rebuild a sense of community, restoring the bonds that nearly half a century of neoliberal hegemony has shattered. This community cannot be constructed, as some rojipardos¹ argue, by opposing material struggles to so-called identity struggles. Better living conditions for the working class are only possible—both ethically and politically—if gender equality, full LGBTQ+ rights, and the recognition of migrant rights are upheld. The challenge is formidable, no doubt. But time is running out, and the stakes could not be higher.

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¹The term “rojipardos” is a Spanish neologism combining rojo (red, associated with the left) and pardo (brown, linked to fascism, as in “brownshirts”). It is used pejoratively to describe individuals or movements that blend left-wing economic or social positions with nationalist, authoritarian, or reactionary elements, often aligning with far-right rhetoric on certain issues.

Source: educational EVIDENCE

Rights: Creative Commons