German chancellor Angela Merkel (CDU) and Prime Minister of Hungary Viktor Orbán. Hannibal Hanschke/Press Association. All rights reserved.Altiero Spinelli, the founder of European
federalism, wrote in the ‘Ventotene Manifesto’ (1941) that, “The dividing line
between progressive and reactionary parties (…) falls along the line, very new
and substantial, that separates the party members into two groups. The first is
made up of those who conceive the essential purpose and goal of struggle as the
ancient one, that is, the conquest of national political power (…). The second
are those who see the creation of a solid international State as the main
purpose; they will direct popular forces toward this goal, and, having won
national power, will use it first and foremost as an instrument for achieving
international unity.”

In essence, Spinelli was writing about a
division between ‘nationalism’ and ‘federalism’. These days, 76 years since
Spinelli (with the help of fellow prisoners Rossi and Colorni) jotted
down his Manifesto; nationalism is again centre stage, while the idea of
‘federalism’ (or, more broadly, that of political integration) has been eroded
by the malfunctioning and woes of the European Union (EU). Together with the
decline of inter (and supra-) national institutions, however, nationalism is
corroding the quality of democracy itself. For the sake of simplicity, let us
divide the western world (and Europe) into ‘West’ and ‘East’, older and newer
democracies.  

For more than twenty years Western Europe
has witnessed the rise of populist nationalisms. The faces of Geert Wilders,
Marine Le Pen, Matteo Salvini, Nigel Farage and their likes are by now
well-known and familiar to many, in the media, academia, and of course among
voters. We have been reassured about their democratic credentials and respect
for the ‘rules of the game’, but how far can we trust them? Can we trust
somebody (Geert Wilders), who has repeatedly called for the ban of the Koran?
How far has Marine Le Pen truly cut ties with her father’s legacy? Intolerance,
racism, nationalism, criticism of ‘European values’ can hardly co-exist with
democratic values and institutions, particularly at times of persistent
economic crisis. Parties and politicians can pay lip service to democracy, but
their real choice and actions will be influenced by the conditions they are
living in (the ‘structures’ of so much social theory…). Furthermore, populist
nationalism is also the outcome of the weaknesses of ruling classes which have
too often chosen the not-so-democratic (yet comfortable!) option of ‘grand
coalitions’, which in a sense are the degeneration of Spinelli’s
‘pro-international’ forces. 

Germany had a coalition government from
2005-2009 and then again since 2013. Italy experienced a national unity
government under a technocrat, Mario Monti, in 2011-13 and then a ‘quasi’ grand
coalition under PMs Letta, Renzi, and Gentiloni. Austria has seen the two major
parties in power together since 2006. In countries like Belgium and the
Netherlands, coalition governments are a kind of tradition, even if some
‘traditional’ parties such as Dutch Labour have meanwhile almost disappeared
(see the recent elections). Coalition governments are somehow acceptable at
times of crisis (as in World War Two Britain), but over the long term tend to
become conservative, negotiate on every tiny issue, and lose sight of bolder
political aims. Frau Merkel’s pro-European rhetoric has sadly
translated into little else than (paternalistic but financially painful)
criticism of ‘profligate’ southern European countries. This is dogmatic (or
opportunistic?) allegiance to neoliberal diktats, nothing else. 

Eastern Europe suffered the consequences
of imposed neoliberalism earlier and in a harsher way, and this has resulted in
what are sometimes called ‘illiberal democracies’. This is not confined to academic
or media-friendly labels, but is the way Mr Orban himself refers to ‘his’
Hungary. Orban has consistently rejected the liberal values which are at the
heart of the European project.

While his politics have been rather
opportunistic on the whole, there is no such thing as an ‘illiberal democracy’:
it is a contradiction in terms. Trying to invert words and say ‘liberal
autocracy’, as is proposed by some scholars, does not improve the terms of the
equation. Orban’s Hungary has more than one authoritarian aspect and should be
punished by the EU, even if – to be honest – it is a predictable response to
the neoliberal excesses of those international forces (including Hungarian-born
George Soros) which brought to Budapest the market without politics, not to
mention European politics. The socio-economic wasteland of the
1990s has been once again filled by the sirens of nationalism – not such a big
surprise, after all. Among ‘models’
Orban has referred to on more than one
occasion, there dwell Turkey and China.

Turkey is a key case because until the
early 2000s Ankara was looking west and keen on joining the EU, an option which
was seen as a way to further modernise the country and consolidate its fragile
democratic credentials. Now the country risks becoming a one-man show,
especially if power-hungry Erdoğan wins the forthcoming constitutional
referendum (16 April), which would transform Turkey into a presidential
republic. Respect for freedoms and rights
has declined tremendously, and the country is
slipping towards authoritarianism and a toxic combination of neoliberalism and
political Islam. Can this be a model for states like Hungary, which are still
EU members?         

China, of course, is a much bigger and
more important example. Its companies are sweeping the whole world in a
whirlpool of investments, acquisitions, and economic diplomacy. China is no
democracy, if political concepts make sense. However, it has handled
globalisation better than any other country and has something to offer, namely
the idea (less so the practice) of ‘meritocracy’, which is deeply embedded in
Confucian culture. The Canadian
scholar, Daniel A. Bell, has famously extolled China’s
meritocratic virtues.

While reality might still be different
from ideals, China has a lesson for the West. The quality of our political
classes has tremendously declined, as the main events of 2016 have made clear.
Democracy should help ‘select’, not just ‘elect’ leaders. Unfortunately,
populist nationalists have been a poor response to the inadequacies of those
‘internationalist’ (or ‘federalist’, to return to Spinelli) elites who,
particularly in Europe, should have governed in the twenty-first century.

The forthcoming elections, in France,
Germany, and elsewhere, will mark a watershed. It is a time for choices.
Nationalists claim to respect the democratic game but it is difficult to forget
that even fascism claimed to be a democracy, but one ‘organized, centralized, authoritarian’. Which side of Spinelli’s divide do we
choose?