The recent parliamentary elections in the Czech Republic followed what has become a disappointingly predictable pattern: The populist right under figurehead Andrej Babiš secured a sweeping victory, and while extremist forces were contained, pro-European progressives were pummelled. To be sure, Babiš is not an extremist. But his populist rhetoric, domestic dependence on radical anti-Europeans, and potential future alliance with Victor Orban does not bode well for the future of Europe. Unsurprisingly, then, the response of pro-European players was as swift as it was clear. Thus, the Young European Federalists admonished that “we cannot let the putinist cronies be allowed to drive a deeper wedge into the unity of our Union and spread their ultra-nationalism which will leave all of us weaker”.
Attitudes like these are understandable; they echo a well-justified frustration over the increasingly nationalistic spirit of our time. Yet they are also deeply insufficient. After all, they fail to address a crucial question: Why have pro-Europeans not met the political challenge posed by the populist right? To ask this question is not to say that pro-Europeans are solely responsible for the rise of the right. Instead, it is to suggest that, disconcerting as the current political moment may be, it should not lead us down the path of paralysis but that of critical self-reflection. Hence, as European federalism – and the broader progressive agenda it embodies — is in crisis, we should pause and ask: what have progressive actors themselves done to usher in, or at least exacerbate, this crisis? Three things come to mind.
Mistake 1: Neglecting the Emotions
It is a near truism that we live in an interconnected world, in which no nation can solve any pressing problem alone. Climate change, interstate warfare, and global pandemics: These are but some of the contemporary issues that urgently require global collective action. In this context, the populist cry to close borders, prioritise national decision-making, and cling to national sovereignty appears not just controversial – but downright irrational. But to insist, as some pro-European players do, that euroscepticism is predominantly a symptom of irrationality, of human reason gone awry, and that the response to it lies in rational persuasion, is to miss a crucial point: Politics is not, and never will be, about reason alone. And even if it were, framing populist parties, and large swaths of their voters, as irrational is not a good idea. As such, the tendency to frame anti-European sentiment in essentially epistemic (that is, knowledge-based) terms is inherently troublesome. Unfortunately, though, pro-European parties have been guilty of this tendency for far too long.
Politics, then, is about emotions just as much as it is about rational exchange. In other words, it is a forum for fears and furies at least as much as it is a realm of reason. And it would be a mistake to argue that it should be otherwise. To avoid misunderstanding, I am not here arguing for deliberate deceit. Nor am I saying that we should manipulate or exploit people’s emotions. What I am saying is that politics is unimaginable, indeed empty, without the passions. All too often, pro-Europeans neglect this simple point. They appear on TV, arguing that closer cooperation is the rational response to the troubles of our time, and that much as people may fear closer European integration, it will ultimately benefit them. For example, in the run-up to the Brexit referendum, the Remain campaign often appealed to cost-benefit analyses regarding the link between GDP and EU membership, which ostensibly made Remain the more rational choice. On the other hand, they avoided topics such as sovereignty or immigration for fear that they are too emotionally charged. However, this ignores the fact that people need to be both rationally convinced and emotionally mobilised to support a political cause. People need to know what is right and good, but they also need to be motivated to act on this understanding. We cannot have one without the other. As the political theorist Chantal Mouffe states, political movements should “offer not only policies but also identities which can help people make sense of what they are experiencing as well as giving them hope for the future”. Put differently, people not only need rational arguments but also emotive stories that help them make sense of our messy modern world. Pro-Europeans are confident that they offer the most convincing arguments, and rightly so. But so far, they have simply lost the game of emotional mobilisation. Thus, by appealing mainly to people’s reason, federalists have as yet done too little to present emotive stories. They have left the emotional arena to the right, allowing them to exploit people’s natural fears and furies for their regressive agenda. It is high time for this to change.
Evidently, this should not mean stoking and reinforcing people’s feelings of anger, envy and disgust, nor the fear that often feeds them, for political gain. This is the populists’ playbook, by which they have recently inaugurated a veritable ‘monarchy of fear’. Instead, we should acknowledge people’s emotions, respond to them earnestly, and attempt to transform them into feelings of hope, faith and a love of justice that will catalyse our political project and motivate people to act on it. Make no mistake, this is no easy feat. It will require changing our rhetoric and addressing the inequitable structures that perpetuate people’s fears. For too many people in Europe still suffer from harsh material conditions, on which fear, anger and envy naturally flourish. But the examples of Nelson Mandela or Martin Luther King who were – under infinitely more difficult circumstances than our own – guided by this spirit of hope, show that it is eminently possible.
Going forward, Federalists should thus perhaps spend less time on policy papers and more time spreading emotive stories. They should dare to speak more passionately about the pressing issues of our time – thus adequately responding to people’s fears. This implies crafting emotional stories while also respecting people’s existing emotional attachments, including to things like the nation state. We must demonstrate that our agenda is compatible with – and not anathema to – these emotional attachments. For they are, and likely continue to be, a source of important motivation for people to pursue civic love and a sense of justice. At any rate, we must realise that by largely neglecting the emotions in favour of rational debate, we have contributed to our own crisis.
Mistake 2: Framing Anti-Europeanism in Moral Terms
The rise of right-wing populism and left-wing authoritarianism is a cause of concern. For both oppose crucial values, such as openness, and transnational cooperation, on which much of the European project is founded. More broadly, both erode important moral ideals of tolerance, and mutual respect, on which any inclusive politics must be built. In confronting them, we may thus want to view them not as political opponents, but as forces to be morally condemned. JEF-Europe’s call to block ‘putinist cronies’ and their ‘ultra-nationalism’ is a case in point. Here, anti-European attitudes are seen as a moral failure to be countered by fiercer opposition. Let me be clear that I find this description to be largely correct. But it expresses a deeper problem: it frames political opponents and, indirectly, their voters as morally backward, thus potentially cutting off important channels of political debate and pushing voters ever deeper into the hands of populists. In doing so, it makes it tempting to focus solely on populists’ toxic rhetoric and so prevents us from soberly analysing the deeper grievances that animate it. So, framing the political opponent as morally backward is rarely a good idea. Take the famous example of former Democratic nominee Hillary Clinton calling half of Trump’s supporters a ‘basket of deplorables’. This is, of course, at least an order of magnitude more provocative than JEF-Europe’s statement. An immediate problem with both, however, is that even if they were correct, engaging in moralising rhetoric vis-à-vis supporters of other parties is unlikely to garner any voters. Instead, it is likely to meet with recalcitrant reactions, fuelling the political polarisation we need to mitigate. People simply do not like being patronised – no matter how justified the other side’s feeling of moral indignation.
What is the solution? Of course, we should not abandon our morals; we should not sacrifice federalist values for the sake of unscrupulous power politics. This is again the populist playbook, which we should not emulate. But we should be wary not to demonise their supporters and portray them as morally inferior. For this forecloses avenues for conversation and self-analysis that are important for moving the European project forward. Rather than framing anti-Europeanism in moral terms, we should frame it in political terms that convincingly and emotively convey the viability of pro-European solutions. Let’s not become complacent, believing that we have the moral high ground. Let’s instead engage in political confrontation, with passion and sound argument.
Mistake 3: Portraying Anti-Europeanism as an Engineering Problem
So far, you may think I believe pro-Europeans are not self-reflective. This is partly right, but mostly wrong. Pro-Europeans are aware of the many systemic deficits of the EU and have repeatedly called for significant change. For example, JEF calls for extant democratic deficits to be overcome, for obsolete institutions to be restructured, and for European treaties to be reformed. To be clear, treaty change is of utmost importance and is, in many ways, a necessary ingredient for a more equitable Europe. But we should not view it as a panacea. Specifically, there is a danger in viewing Euroscepticism as a kind of engineering problem to be resolved through better treaties. Certainly, some of the euroscepticism we witness today derives from outdated European institutions and treaties that reinforce the idea of a ‘Brussels bubble’ out of touch with the concerns and livelihoods of ordinary people. However, the problem is that, important as treaty change may be, it remains a largely technocratic endeavour spearheaded by highly educated and politically influential elites.
As such, it lacks the potential to organise people around an emotional agenda that speaks to their hearts just as much as it speaks to their minds. Casting European politics as a quest to reform legal treaties and political institutions is thus again insufficient. For such action must be preceded by the mobilisation of a more encompassing grassroots movement which provides the democratic impetus for such change; a movement that appeals to people’s emotions, does not shy away from conflict, and that, convinced as it is of its moral values, does not avoid political confrontation.
As populist Eurosceptics continue to make political inroads, it is time to rise to their challenge. In doing so, however, we must not only condemn them – we must also take a hard look at ourselves.
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