By James Kemmy
For over a decade now, Europe’s political system has been stormed by inflammatory and polarising forces seeking to disrupt the region’s traditionally liberal outlook. The ascent of populists, predominantly of an ultra-nationalist orientation, has substantially impacted Europe’s political landscape.
Posing material electoral threat in France, Germany, Austria and Switzerland, whilst being elevated to positions of formal authority in Poland and Hungary (and more recently in Italy and Sweden), far-right populists have strong-manned the European public sphere in the early 21st century. Further, in cases like Spain, such cohorts have influenced the national dialogue and pressured the mainstream by serving as junior coalition partners in several key regions. Promoting reactionary and even transgressive positions on immigration, climate policy and international cooperation, these figures and groups have also intensified rhetoric on cultural issues, making politics more factional than it has been for generations.
Political fragmentation and Spain’s divided public sphere
In recent years, Spain has quickly evolved from a relatively standard two-party system (composed of the centre-left Partido Socialista Obrero Español/PSOE and centre-right Popular/PP group) to a more fragmented and heated five-party political battleground. Such a development has stretched interpretations of right and left and has led to bitter infighting among groups. Alongside such ideological diffusion, the separatist grievances of various regional parties remain salient and institutionally consequential. A state of complex plurality therefore currently defines the country’s political system, one still stalked by a history of civil war and fascist rule under General Franco. At the helm of such an arrangement today stands somewhat of a maverick statesman – Pedro Sanchez. As an unlikely leader of the centre-left PSOE group since June 2018, the Madrid-born socialist has arguably managed to navigate against extreme-right mobilisation more skilfully than any other Western politician.
In the discussion of contemporary European woes, Spain stands out as an intriguing dark horse. Although hit especially hard by the pandemic-induced economic downturn, the country has since witnessed an impressively steered turnaround. In recent times, the Spanish state has enabled some of the lowest inflation levels and strongest employment figures across the continent in a fiercely turbulent era. Additionally, PSOE-led social policy has been ambitiously progressive, expanding access to abortion services, addressing legal obstacles faced by transgender people, and granting paid menstrual leave for workers – a pioneering measure globally. Decarbonisation has been a priority of the Sanchez premiership too, with the green energy investment features of United States President Joe Biden’s landmark Inflation Reduction Act being praised by the Spaniard in recent months.
Despite such efforts, opposition parties in Spain have been nipping at Sanchez’s heels and even enjoyed convincing successes in May’s regional elections. The most prominent players in the anti-Sanchez camp have been Santiago Abascal’s Vox party – a new, hard-right populist group, alongside the conventional, centre-right PP, led by Alberto Núñez Feijóo. The PP have also been helped by the near-total collapse of the Ciudadanos party, formerly seen as parliamentary kingmakers.
Vox is symbolic of the parochial and culturally contentious approach taken by many populist reactionary groups across Europe. In Valencia, for instance, where the party shares municipal power with the PP, Vox has diluted the legal definition of domestic violence, while in Valdemorillo, a Madrilenian town, the party has been accused of ideologically vetoing a theatre production of Virginia Woolf’s Orlando due to its feminist and gender fluid themes. Furthermore, Abascal’s group has proclaimed that LGBTQ+ Pride flags should be removed from all public buildings.
Manifestly, the future trajectory of Spanish society was riding on July’s general election, a snap vote called by Sanchez in an unanticipated, high-risk move. Talk of coalitions featured heavily in the public conversation during the campaign, owing to the country’s splintered left and bipartite right. Pressuring Sanchez from the left was current government partner Sumar, led by the firebrand deputy prime minister Yolanda Díaz, with an uneasy yet inevitable closeness growing between the PP and Vox on the other end of the spectrum.
Surprise and parliamentary standstill
Despite the right’s momentum and the seemingly potent anti-government atmosphere, Sanchez displayed a miraculous recovery on election day. Not only did the PSOE maintain their parliamentary presence, they increased their seat share by two. Meanwhile, Vox performed far weaker than expected, losing 19 seats and the support of over 620,000 voters nationally. Such aversion to Vox’s brand appears to have dashed the PP’s prospects for a feasible two-party coalition. While Feijóo’s party made significant gains from the 2019 election, the underwhelming result of their would-be government partners makes a conservative pact essentially impossible at this stage.
With the resulting hung parliament, Sanchez is now tasked with the complex act of piecing together a broad coalition – one which will involve hefty concessions for separatist groups. The balance of power now ultimately lies with Junts and the ERC, both hard-line Catalonian secessionists who will surely demand an independence referendum for the north-eastern region. Forging such partnerships will be an intricate and sensitive process and may prove impossible in reality. If negotiations fail to generate consensus, a fresh vote will be held, likely in early 2024, leaving Spain with an extended caretaker government, much like the record-breaking situation in Belgium seen in 2010-2011.
Overall, Sanchez’s unexpected survival may serve as a harbinger for broader political trends in Europe, indicating the direction of travel in public opinion in the region. A victory for the far-right for the first time since Franco’s reign might have facilitated a wider, continental movement ahead of the 2024 European Parliament elections, enabling like-minded groups to backtrack on climate action and ramp up punitive migration policy frameworks.
Deducing from this moment of chaos and institutional deadlock, however, one point appears clear: the spectre of Spain’s far-right history seemed to haunt voters on Election Day 2023. Looking outwards, it may be the case that the ultra-right has reached its electoral peak in Europe and will soon retreat to the fringes of politics, away from the cusps of executive office. Or perhaps the Spanish example serves merely as a brief reprieve in an otherwise ascendant age of staunch nativism. Only time will tell.
James is a recent graduate of government and political science from Ireland. He is particularly intrigued by contemporary ideology, political strategy and the evolution of public opinion. James will soon begin a new role in Brussels as a parliamentary trainee for a leading organisation and is interested in the EU’s unique institutional dynamics.
European Studies Review 