明日7月23日にスペインの総選挙が行われるとのことで、スペインの極右政党Voxが勢力を伸ばせるか否か、ということから話をはじめて欧州政治を分析するワシントン・ポストのコラム記事が出てたので、備忘録としてアルジャジーラの記事も併せて。
・・・まぁワシントン・ポストは自分とこの心配が大きくね?とツッコみたくはありますが
共和党は依然としてトランプが優勢、デサンティスもアレだし・・・
民主党はバイデンを隠居させなきゃいけないはずなのに代わりが・・・
スペインに関してはramonbookさんのツイートに首肯
ベルルスコーニが元凶、象徴的か・・・
欧州のファシズムは第一次世界大戦時に起こった女性の社会進出と権利拡大に対する壮大なバックラッシュで基本的には家父長制の焼き直しにすぎない。日本はこれを真似したわけだから、日本の家父長制を見るときに欧州ファシズム下の家父長制研究は非常に役に立つ。フランコもムッソリーニの亜流だった。 https://t.co/NBEiyDk5ck
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) May 29, 2022
それにしても、第一次大戦後に欧州で女性の労働運動が高まった歴史を見ると、ファシズムがマチズム(男尊女卑)を掲げるポピュリズムから男性の支持を集めて台頭したのがよく分かる。「女は自らの権利を主張することなく男に従属する存在であるべき」という身勝手な発想が現在のインセルと瓜二つだね😇 https://t.co/OoMJC9sFan
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) July 21, 2023
VOXの特徴がマチズモ(男尊女卑)を掲げるポピュリズムだけど、源流は伊のベルルスコーニ。欧州の極右への右傾化も第二次ベルルスコーニ政権の2001年頃に始まった。ベルルスコーニはまだキワモノの立ち位置だったけど、仏でサルコジ大統領誕生の2007年頃から極右的な言動がポピュリズム化していった。 https://t.co/opCBPrQZiu
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) July 22, 2023
明日のスペイン総選挙ではヨランダ・ディアス率いるSumarスマルがイグレシアスのPodemosポデモスの後継ポジションなんだけど、個人的には左派でなくソーシャル・リベラルだと思ってる。ここ数年でコアな左派の人たちが次々政界を去ってしまったから、リベラル色しかなくなってPSOEと見分けがつかない😅
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) July 22, 2023
だいたいさ、19世紀頃から欧州では政党政治が限界を迎えていたから、20世紀初頭にサンジカリズムが台頭したのに、その後も大きな変革は女性参政権ぐらいで、旧態依然の制度を21世紀になっても使い続けているんだから、機能しないのは当然だよね。百年以上前のアナキストの選挙批判に頷くしかなない😂
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) July 22, 2023
サンジカリズムは明確な政党拒否の上に立脚していた。フランス労働総同盟(CGT)の1906年10月大会で決議されたアミアン憲章で「労働組合運動は、いかなる政党やセクトとも距離を保ち、ゼネストをはじめとする労働者に固有の手段により自立的に階級闘争を追求する」と宣言した。https://t.co/wVpMmkLXE9
— ramonbook (@ramonbookprj) July 22, 2023
◆A far-right European Union could be around the corner【ワシントン・ポスト:Ishaan Tharoor 2023年7月21日】
Five years ago, Spain’s foreign minister explained why his country had so far resisted the siren song of right-wing populism. “We have been vaccinated by the [Spanish] civil war and by the long years of [Francisco] Franco’s dictatorship,” Josep Borrell told me in an interview in Washington, arguing that Spain’s turbulent experience of anti-democratic, fascist rule inoculated it from the “virus” of ascendant nativism and illiberalism seen in some of its European neighbors.
Half a decade later, Borrell, now the European Union’s top diplomat, may be wondering whether the continent — and, in particular, his nation — is in need of a booster dose.
Spanish voters go to the polls Sunday in a snap election that could well see the far right return to power for the first time since the era of Franco’s dictatorship, which fell almost a half century ago. Opinion polls show the right-wing establishment People’s Party (PP) ahead of Spain’s center-left Socialists, who have been in power in coalition governments for the past eight years. But if given a mandate to form the next government, the PP will likely need support from ultranationalist Vox, a party to which some PP politicians vowed never to find common cause.
Vox is a faction that’s a little more than a decade old. It emerged from the far-right fringes, steeped in an ethos of Catholic traditionalism, animosity to Catalonian and Basque separatism, antipathy to migration, suspicion of climate science, and ideological fury at pro-feminist and pro-LGBTQ+ laws and protections in Spanish society. Despite the PP’s initial aversion to Vox, the more mainstream right-wing party has in the last couple years allied with the latter to form a handful of local and regional governments.
Now, Vox’s particular brew of 21st-century culture warring and 20th-century illiberalism has earned it a solid base of some 10 to 15 percent of the Spanish vote. It’s a bloc that’s no longer on the margins of Spanish politics and may determine the fate and agenda of the country’s next government. That’s certainly the warning of Spanish Prime Minister Pedro Sánchez, who urged voters to opt against bringing the values of former president Donald Trump or former Brazilian president Jair Bolsonaro, both far-right firebrands, to the halls of power in Madrid.
But never mind the politics across the Atlantic. The developments in Spain mark only the latest, albeit perhaps most striking, chapter in a larger European story. Steadily, far-right parties once considered beyond the pale have entered into the continent’s mainstream and in many places wield genuine power. Illiberal nationalists already rule in Italy, Poland and Hungary, and support governments in Finland and Sweden. The far-right is surging in Austria and Germany — where, dramatically, recent polls show the Alternative for Germany, or AfD, overtaking the ruling Social Democrats and their allies, the Greens.
There’s no single source for the momentum powering these movements. In a recent essay in the Journal of Democracy, German political scientist Michael Bröning pointed to a “collapse of trust” in political institutions that is “compounded by an extraordinary lack of optimism” felt by many in the European public, certainly in Germany. In such a gloomy void, far-right nativists offer a simpler, emotive appeal than their establishment counterparts.
“As the soft-spoken nationalism of mainstream European parties made it impossible to integrate the continent and erect a continental public power that would respond to the many worries of Europeans, the far right has stepped in with its overt, aggressive ethnic nationalism, offering the masses intimidated and confused by the problems of the modern era a familiar place of shelter: the ethnic nation,” wrote Italian academics Lorenzo Marsili and Fabrizio Tassinari.
Meanwhile, the far right in quite a few European countries has co-opted or supplanted the center right that once held sway. The most illustrative case in point is Italy, whose Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni leads a party that can trace its political lineage to Italy’s 20th century neofascist movement. “The distinction between what is the mainstream right and what is the far right is less and less clear,” Pietro Castelli Gattinara, an Italian scholar of the far right, explained in an interview last year. “It’s also more difficult to set apart the European model from what we’re seeing in the U.S. and in other parts of the world, where similarly, the distinction is becoming less and less clear.”
What’s clearer now than, say, half a decade ago, is that Europe’s far right finds itself closer to continental power and influence. Last week, Meloni beamed virtually into a Vox rally in Spain, urging solidarity among “patriots” in Europe. “It is crucial that a conservative, patriotic alternative be established,” she said. “Europe needs to become aware of its role and influence again to be a political giant instead of a bureaucratic one.”
That larger illiberal vision for Europe is no longer just a fantasy lurking in the demagoguery of fringe populists or the gnarled resentment of politicians like Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban. “We tend to idealize the E.U. as an inherently progressive or even cosmopolitan project — making it seemingly incompatible with far-right thinking,” wrote Hans Kundnani, a senior research fellow at Chatham House, a London-based think tank. But, he went on, that implicit faith in the E.U.’s “expression of cosmopolitanism” may have blinded analysts to other political possibilities, including the embrace of a European project tethered more around what he calls “ethnoregionalism,” or a narrow European identity that’s connected to the “idea of whiteness.”
Kundnani added that far-right parties are also defying assumptions around their inability to cooperate and coordinate on the international stage, and, instead, “seem to be cooperating with each other quite effectively — and some may even be willing to accept further integration, for example on migration policy, provided it is on their terms.”
Marsili and Tassinari concur: “As opposed to the superficial Euroscepticism of its previous incarnations, the new European far right increasingly uses Europe, its institutions and its superior negotiating power to its own advantage.”
Spain assumed the rotating presidency of the European Union this month. There’s the distinct possibility that a far-right-backed government may soon be in a commanding position to push policy in Brussels.
◆Are we heading towards a far-right European Union?【アル・ジャジーラ:Lorenzo Marsili・Fabrizio Tassinari 2023年7月19日】
We always assumed European unity would imply greater cosmopolitanism and multiculturalism. With the recent rise of the far-right, that may not be the case.
Left to right, Netherlands Prime Minister Mark Rutte, European Commission President Ursula Von der Leyen, Tunisia President Kais Saied and Italy Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni attend a news briefing at the presidential palace in Tunis on July 16, 2023 [Tunisian Presidency Press Service/Ho/AFP Photo]
The far right is on the rise in Europe.
In Germany, support for the hard-right AfD is surging. In Spain, the far-right Vox party is expected to be the kingmaker in the upcoming snap election. Far-right parties are also either in government or supporting the government from within parliament in Italy, Poland, Finland and Sweden.
Undoubtedly, there is some truth to the analyses pointing to a backlash against multiculturalism, “woke” culture wars, or the ever-deepening cost of living crisis as the reasons behind the far right’s entry into mainstream politics across the continent.
But ultimately, what we are witnessing today is the result of European leaders’ insistent failure to meet the people’s collective demand for protection and control in the face of many – real and perceived – threats pushing them into precarity.
Amid a climate emergency and a new era of global conflict, the need for Europe to politically unite is self-evident. Small and relatively powerless European nation-states are uniquely misplaced to steer an independent course and give their citizens a sense of security and stability in this age of planetary challenges and emergent superpowers. And yet, European elites appear reluctant to take the necessary steps towards political union.
As a result, Europeans are now discovering what it means to be the objects and not the subjects of history. A green transition is desperately needed, but for the least well-off not to be left behind, there is also a need for massive investments. As the climate crisis and conflicts continue to push people towards Europe, the need for effective and humane migration management is also urgent. Meanwhile, war has returned to the continent, so people are demanding a new security paradigm. Unfortunately, there is no single actor in Europe that can steer these issues and not be steered by them.
Some have tried to make Europe into a united force that can once again decide its own course. At the beginning of his tenure, French President Emmanuel Macron often spoke of the need of building a “Europe that protects” – in his landmark 2017 Sorbonne speech he called for “a sovereign, united and democratic Europe” – but the German government and his peers elsewhere in Europe responded to his federalist overtures with indifference, if not contempt.
More recently, the European Commission has tried to lay down ambitious plans for joint climate financing, responding to Joe Biden’s Inflation Reduction Act. That effort has been torpedoed by the supposed “national interest” of the most fiscally liquid member states.
As the soft-spoken nationalism of mainstream European parties made it impossible to integrate the continent and erect a continental public power that would respond to the many worries of Europeans, the far right has stepped in with its overt, aggressive ethnic nationalism, offering the masses intimidated and confused by the problems of the modern era a familiar place of shelter: the ethnic nation.
The question today is not whether the far right can achieve political power in Europe, but what it will do with it once it does.
In the recent past, during their stints in relative power, many of Europe’s far-right politicians proved to be more interested in securing populist points than implementing policies that deliver results and help keep their movements in power. For example, Italy’s Matteo Salvini ordered Italian ports to block a rescue ship carrying a few dozen migrants, attracting international criticism and even condemnation in exchange for nothing but a round of applause from his devoted supporters.
So, one may be excused for expecting the far right to take power, divide an already divided continent further, fail to inflict any change, and retreat back into the political fringes in a relatively short time period.
However, the European far right has evolved significantly since Salvini’s migrant rescue boat bravado in 2019. And now, its leaders appear to have much more potential to do what is necessary to implement policies that could keep them in power, as well as reshape their countries and the European Union according to their own agenda.
Italy’s far-right Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, for example, has demands that are not that different from those of Salvini, who is a deputy prime minister in her government: curtailing migration, achieving economic sovereignty, protecting and promoting traditional Christian values and “Western civilisation”. And yet, Salvini’s loud but ineffective showmanship and populist aggression are nowhere to be found in her administration, replaced with a desire for pragmatic coalition building and intergovernmental bargaining.
Consider Meloni’s recent high-profile visits to Tunisia, accompanied by European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen and Dutch Prime Minister Marc Rutte, which led to the signing of a migration deal that is in many respects comparable to the controversial “cash for migrants” agreement the EU made with Turkey in 2016 under the leadership of then German Chancellor Angela Merkel. However morally dubious it may be, this deal reinforces a common European border policy and even aims to lay the ground for a European policy towards North Africa.
Meloni’s eagerness to collaborate with her European peers to secure an EU-level deal that is beneficial to her national agenda perfectly encapsulates the recent metamorphosis of the far right in Europe. As opposed to the superficial Euroscepticism of its previous incarnations, the new European far right increasingly uses Europe, its institutions and its superior negotiating power to its own advantage.
There is, of course, every reason to expect any cooperation between far-right governments like Meloni’s and European institutions – as well as their alliances with fellow far-right governments – to eventually collapse, as they all prioritise the national interests of their respective countries over the continental good. We have recently witnessed the limitations of such alliances when Meloni’s attempt to reform European asylum policy failed due to a veto from her far-right colleague, Polish Prime Minister Mateusz Morawiecki.
But could this new brand of pragmatic far-right actors manage to act collaboratively long enough for them to become a genuine force towards a more united Europe? Could they pave the way for more integration, especially in areas like defence, external borders and economic policy, which would help them deliver on their promises to their constituents?
And, if so, could they – perhaps unintentionally – help strengthen the European Union and its place in the multipolar world?
Take the issue of Ukraine and Western Balkan countries’ accession to the EU. The far-right governments in both Poland and Italy want the union to expand to include these countries. Of course, the expansion of the EU from 27 to 35 or more members will require the European institutions to go through a significant transformation, including a move from unanimous to majority voting as a large and diverse Union cannot function if every country has the right to veto collective decisions.
If Europe’s far right takes the lead in this transformation, it would become instrumental to what is possibly the most consequential advance in European unity in recent decades and a momentous step towards building a continent-wide political power.
Paradoxically, the far right is positioning itself as the champion of a strong European identity, albeit one premised on the ethno-nationalist idea of a white, Christian, and Western civilisation.
We always assumed that European unity would imply greater cosmopolitanism and multiculturalism. But what if a united Europe turns out to build what Hans Kundnani calls an “ethnoregionalism”, or the appeal to the defence of a European “civilisation”?
Ultimately, the question is this: Could the far right leave behind its old-fashioned, petty nationalism and embrace new “European nationalism” that would further unite and strengthen the continent, even if at the cost of making it uglier?
The way Meloni and her peers answer this question will determine whether the new episode of far-right rule in Europe will result in yet another show of impotent extremism, or pave the way for a new political hegemony on the European continent.