From Rome to Budapest, from Paris to Washington, the radical right always speaks the same language: the language of resentment, of victimhood and revenge, mixed with a tale of national strength and sovereignty that aims to mould the political imaginary of the West. But behind the apparent unity of the “nationalist international”, discourses are entangled, alliances clash, and hegemonies remain more of a proclamation than a reality.
At the Internazionale Festival in Ferrara, American journalist Rachel Donadio, British historian John Foot and French reporter Allan Kaval gathered for a session titled “Hegemony”, moderated by Italian journalist Marco Contini (La Repubblica). A shared diagnosis emerged from the encounter: the new European right is no longer a marginal or homespun phenomenon. Rather, it is a political and media ecosystem that is fueled by shared myths and symbols, and which aims to rewrite the language of democracy itself.
Victimhood as a lever of power
For John Foot, it is important to not read the present through the lenses of the distant past, but rather those of the 1970s and 1980s, where the majority of Giorgia Meloni’s political movement originates. “Meloni is not interested in historical fascism,” he explains, “because her political culture was born in the postwar period, within democracy.” Nevertheless, he continues, that culture retains a strong memory: that of a community that feels victimised.
This is a memory built with episodes such as the Primavalle fire, or the murders of neofascist activists, perceived as symbols of injustice and persecution. “For Meloni and her associates this victim mentality is very important,” Foot observes, “we were excluded, we were killed, there was no justice for us.” This vision explains the “tolerance” towards nostalgic rituals and commemorations: “She never criticises such events, because they are part of her cultural background.”
Alan Kavall, Rachel Donadio. | Photo: ©Francesco Alesi, Internazionale
The same operation is repeated on the global scale. For Rachel Donadio, the same scheme is visible in the United States: “When Donald Trump miraculously survived the assassination attempt [on 13 July 2024], he acquired a religious power that he didn’t have before.” In this case too, the leader presents himself as the target of a hostile world: the elites, the journalists, the migrants. “Presenting oneself as a victim has historically been a common trait of the right,” adds Marco Contini. “Almost as if, since presenting yourself as the bad guys wouldn’t be acceptable, you need to say that in fact it is we who are the victims.”
This victim mentality – whether real or constructed – has a precise function: divert attention from the reality of governance to the defence of identity. “They try to create consensus by shrinking the space for dissent,” notes Donadio. The rhetoric of “us against them” becomes a tool of power, not of emancipation.
The “nationalist international”: a paradox only in appearance
Another common trait, highlighted by a number of voices, is the transnational network that unites the European and American right. This is a seemingly contradictory “nationalist international”, that is in fact consistent in practice.
Allan Kaval observes that in France, Meloni’s Italy has become an “instrumental” model: “This has nothing to do with the reality on the ground. It’s a way to use Italy in order to push France’s own particular discourse.” The covers of French conservative magazines speak of the “Meloni model”, exalting its stability and financial integrity. But, Kaval adds, “Italy is not what matters here; it is only a means to an end.”
John Foot. | Photo: ©Francesco Alesi, Internazionale
Kaval also cites Meloni’s participation in a rally held by her French ally Marion Maréchal, where the Italian Prime Minister evoked American figures such as Charlie Kirk, the young Christian right influencer who was violently killed and transformed into a global icon. “Kirk has become a martyr,” says Kaval, “a figure who is part of the faith.”
The Kirk incident, he adds, found echo “in all these countries: Poland, Hungary, Austria, France.” In each case, the narrative was the same: the right presents itself as a victim of global persecution, and martyr is the symbol of resistance. It’s a common construction, a shared language that crosses borders.
Donadio speaks of “a Europe of right-wing movements that live under the thumb of a new regime in the US.” Not a genuine conspiracy, but a cultural and media ecosystem in which the leaders and movements cite, imitate and legitimise one another: Meloni with Viktor Orbán and the Spanish political party Vox, Marine Le Pen with Trump and Nigel Farage, Matteo Salvini with the German far right. It’s a mosaic that works as long as there’s a common enemy: “The enemy is the ‘immigrant’,” says Foot. “What holds them together is fear of the other.”
Cultural hegemony or illusion of hegemony?
The word “hegemony” – at the centre of the conversation – remains the most controversial aspect of all this. Is there really a right-wing “cultural hegemony”? Or is the phenomenon overestimated: a useful myth for the right’s own narrative of itself?
Marco Contini. | Photo: ©Francesco Alesi, Internazionale
Foot, as a historian, looks at things in the long term, speaks more of continuity than breaks: “I am sceptical of the idea that this is a new phase. I see so much continuity in the use of power.” The Meloni government, he observes, “governs like a political party, not like a revolutionary movement.” Donadio too, while wary of the risks of an illiberal drift, notes that the strategy of the government is to “occupy power in order to remain in power,” not to install a regime.
Foot provides a concrete example: “What have they done? Nothing, zero, no structural reform.” The reforms that the government announced – taxation, justice, culture – remain on hold or have been scaled down.
Contini adds bitterly that Italy has “a certain structural incapacity for authoritarianism”, an historic trait that is founded in the fragility of political power. But inertia can be dangerous: “step by step, drop by drop, we are becoming a nation disinterested in its own destiny.”
Kaval gets to the heart of the issue: rather than hegemony, what we have is a fragmentary counter-hegemony, which is fueled by the weakness of the media system and social fragmentation. “If instead of civil society we have an archipelago of bubbles,” asks Donadio, “then how could any cultural hegemony be built?” Platforms and algorithms multiply “micro-communities”, but prevent the construction of a common discourse.
The result is a “cultural war of movement”, as Kaval defines it: fluid, emotive, founded more on indignation than persuasion. This is not hegemony in the Gramscian sense – a capacity to guide consensus through culture – but a permanent conflict over the debate’s centre of gravity.
Narrative and reality: the short circuit of the right
Behind the triumphalist rhetoric of the right, the facts often tell a different story.
Italy is not the “model of stability” described by the French conservative press: the Meloni government, though strong, has not implemented a single structural reform, as John Foot has said. The occupation of positions of power – from the Museum of 21st Century Art to the Ministry of Culture – is read more as a sign of continuity than as a revolution. As the political scientist and expert in right-wing movements Marco Tarchi has said, cited by Kaval, “they would need an army, which they do not have.”
The supposed cultural hegemony is thus more mediatic than substantive. Kaval notes that even propaganda operations such as the “Kirk narrative” find little real resonance: “We are rather indifferent to this incident. It is not ours.”
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And yet, these same narratives have political effects. The language of martyrdom, of embattled patriotism, of “decadent” Europe, serves to shift the moral boundaries of the debate. Kaval warns that many leaders of the right “want us to believe that they want to debate, but in reality they want to change the basis of our society’s values,” especially “the value of antifascism” on which Italian and European democracy is founded.
A similar operation is taking place in countries where the right is in the opposition. In France, the rhetoric of “Meloni model” serves to legitimise the union of right-wing parties around Marine Le Pen and Marion Maréchal. In Germany, the AfD presents itself as a defender of liberty of expression against the “dictatorship of the politically correct.” In the UK, according to Foot, Nigel Farage and his Reform UK give voice to the feelings of those who say “we are mothers, we are anxious, we are afraid.” However, Foot also observes that “they refuse to be labelled far right,” and for this reason there’s a need to understand why these people take to the streets at Farage’s call, rather than pigeonholing them into categories that “no longer make sense.”
Nevertheless, they all share a characteristic of the far-right narrative: transforming social unrest into identity politics, and identity politics into a persecution narrative.
The Europe of tomorrow: a house divided
The risk, as emerges from the discussion, is that the European Union will soon find itself led by a majority of nationalist governments. Kaval warns that “these parties don’t want to destroy the European Union. They want to change it, to turn it into something else”: something with less solidarity, with less autonomy from the US, and more exclusionary when it comes to rights.
The cornerstone of the project remains immigration control: “no one would be able to request asylum in any European country,” Foot warns, suggesting “mass deportations” like those seen recently in the US.
But here too the myth crashes against the limits imposed by reality. After the trauma of Brexit, Foot explains, “the example inspired no one: we vaccinated everyone against leaving.” Thus, the right no longer pushes for leaving the EU, but rather emptying it from within: Europe as a “house divided”, united only by its common enemies – beginning with immigrants.
The words we lack
We need new words to describe this reality,” says Kaval, responding to a question from the audience. Words that are not those of the nineteenth century – fascism, communism, right, left – but which help read the fluidity of the present.
John Foot, Alan Kavall, Rachel Donadio and Marco Contini. | Photo: ©Francesco Alesi, Internazionale
Political language, he observes, is part of the problem: “many of these leaders want to redefine the moral basis of our society,” he repeats, “not to simply contest the system.” It’s a “semantic battle” in which the choice of words decides the limits of what is thinkable.
Foot recounts a conversation with an American editor: “he asked me why I call it the far right and not simply the right. I responded: because it comes from a post-fascist tradition. But he didn’t understand. It’s hard to explain Europe to the American public.”
The difficulty in naming things – “can we use the word fascism?” Contini asked repeatedly – has itself become part of the story. As an audience member noted, perhaps “we don’t notice that they are forcing us to redefine the language.”
Beyond the narratives
The new European right – victim narratives, media-savvy, transnational – is now the political laboratory of the continent. Like fascism and populism before it, it was born in Italy but adapts itself to the global conditions of the twenty-first century: social networks, climate crisis, inequality, migration.
And yet, behind the power of its rhetoric, there remains a structural fragility: few reforms, no real social consensus, a language that is more convincing in the media than in everyday life.
Perhaps, as Foot suggests, the real novelty is the continuity: “Italy is still the political laboratory of Europe, but not always of progress.” And as Kaval adds, the greatest challenge is no longer distinguishing left from right, but understanding “who wants to emancipate and who wants to dominate.”
This article was produced with the support of the European Media and Information Fund (EMIF). It may not necessarily reflect the positions of the EMIF and the Fund Partners, the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation and the European University Institute. The sole responsibility for any content supported by the European Media and Information Fund lies with the author(s) and it may not necessarily reflect the positions of the EMIF and the Fund Partners, the Calouste Gulbenkian Foundation and the European University Institute.
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