“On December 31, 1999, we threw a party.”
The opening line of Anne Applebaum’s book, Twilight of Democracy: The Seductive Lure of Authoritarianism, refers to a New Year’s Eve party that provided a snapshot of the “western” political right as of the end of the 20th century. The guest list was by no means star-studded, though it included several journalists and Polish officials of varying degrees of notoriety. What linked them, aside from their relationship with the host, was that they could almost all identify under the labels “right-wing” and “liberal.”
Since then, the guests of that occasion have largely bifurcated into groups whose views prevent them from speaking to their former friends. This divide forms the basis of Applebaum’s commentary on the right-wing nationalism and populism that have swept Europe and the United States in the last two decades. Applebaum claims that this change has itself been driven by elites, despite the dominance of anti-elitist rhetoric within these movements.
For those of us in Generation Z, who grew up a decade or more later, it can be difficult to understand the optimism of the era between the fall of the USSR in 1991, and the 9/11 Terrorist Attacks in 2001. Liberal democracy had largely triumphed over communism and authoritarianism the world over, and to many it seemed as though we were in the process of transcending the brutality of the 20th century permanently. The right-wing coalition of those days was, at base, a residual alliance of various opponents of communism.
The neoconservative coalition of anti-communists, fiscal hawks, social conservatives, and proponents of idealistic foreign policies was not unique to the United States. Rather, it represented a global phenomenon of center-right liberal-conservatism in the late 20th century (liberal meaning, in this context, the support of democratic accountability, rule of law, and market economics). Without a clear unifying cause, that coalition weakened and frayed as the 21st century progressed.
By 2020, we live in an age of populist, nationalist, and emotional politics, driven in no small part by elites who themselves represent some of our societies’ most cosmopolitan, educated, and wealthy individuals. Applebaum demonstrates the global nature of this phenomenon with a myriad of examples from Europe. However, the American right has seen one of the more dramatic turns in recent years, even before the rise of Donald Trump.
The Trump presidency and the continued subservience of the Republican Party to his interests combine to serve as a case in point for Applebaum’s thesis . The recent CPAC in Orlando, Florida was dominated by the former president and conspiratorial talk of globalists, elites, and left-wingers, all of whom seek to destroy both the United States and the West more broadly. A golden statue of Donald Trump, proudly displayed for attendees, reveals the quasi-religious reverence with which the former president is treated. While it was dismissed by many as merely a joke, the statue seems to complement the unquestioning and cultish praise that dominated the rhetoric of the conference.
Before we jump to assume that this is a matter of an ill-informed base, one must remember that much of the outcry from the right about the 2020 election and its alleged illegitimacy came from politicians. For instance, Senators Ted Cruz and Josh Hawley led the charge, culminating in their objections to the electoral college tally on January 6th. These men are as well-educated as it possible to be in our society, with Cruz having graduated from Princeton (BA) and Harvard (JD), and Hawley from Stanford (BA) and Yale (JD). While one should try to avoid appeals to the authority of an Ivy League education, someone must have some skill or intelligence to apply to, attend, and graduate from the most competitive undergraduate and graduate programs in the country. And yet, when taking the stage at CPAC, both Cruz and Hawley pontificated using simplistic rhetoric about the tyranny of Joe Biden, the left, and the so-called “elites” to constant applause and standing ovations. And don’t forget Steve Bannon, Trump’s infamous former associate, who has three degrees from top ranked schools and previously worked as an investment banker at Goldman-Sachs, yet he presents himself as disheveled and a common man. Is it any surprise, then, that our former president is himself an elite owner of purposefully exclusive properties like Mar-a-Lago or his many ostentatious hotels?
We cannot be certain that these people are lying cynically and misleading the public for their own gain. Perhaps they are responding to genuine concerns from ordinary working people about the apparent failures of the political establishment. But we should ask, as Applebaum does of both American populists and their European counterparts, whether those who rail against the corruption of democracies, protest against the excesses of educated elites, and push the idea of a left-wing conspiracy to destroy everything they hold dear, are being honest about their convictions.
Though Applebaum has made her name with her books on the atrocities of communism (Gulag, Iron Curtain, Red Famine), her analysis of modern right-wing authoritarianism should be read by all who seek to understand why our movement seems to be falling to lunacy.