In Italy and beyond, packaging toxic populism
Italy #Italy
The kind of far-right populism that has been winning votes has been packaged in ways that put an approachable, almost amiable, cover on a philosophy that is wholly the opposite.
The populists speak about the rights of the common man even as they hold themselves above the rules, even as they clamor for power over the people. They use language that exhorts turning a blind eye to the rights and sensitivities of transgender individuals, same-sex couples and women in general, and make believe that they’re just speaking up to protect innocent children when it’s their own stubborn selfishness and vision of the culture that they’re safeguarding. They demonize migrants, even though those men and women are just trying to make their ways in a brutal world the same as everyone else. And what could be more universal, more popular, than that?
The packaging of Giorgia Meloni, the rising far-right leader in Italy, puts a soft glow on her intolerance on topics such as immigration and LGBTQ rights. She elides discrimination and cruelty with national security and righteous traditions. On the road to her party’s recent electoral victory, she’s made plain her desire to protect Italian identity. And that identity, as she and her supporters have defined it, does not include the folks arriving on Italian shores from Africa and the Middle East.
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Meloni leads the Brothers of Italy party, which is a descendant of post-World War II fascism. But even without the shadow of Mussolini, Meloni’s nationalistic view would be cause for alarm. It echoes the far-right rhetoric in France and Hungary. It reflects much of what the Republican Party here has come to espouse. Their way is, if not ordained by an almighty Christian God, the closest thing to a holy mandate. That is their reading of Scripture, their interpretation of a sermon, their utter self-regard.
Meloni, 45, is casual. Her campaign photography casts her as friendly, warm and a little bit glamorous. She wears pastel colors, jeans and khakis, sneakers and dangling earrings. She doesn’t look like the Establishment, which is to say she isn’t a man in a dark suit with all of the sharp angles and constrictions. She is not Silvio Berlusconi with his self-satisfied countenance. She isn’t any of the countless less-complicated men who’ve served as prime minister in the past decade.
One might say that Meloni leans into her femininity. A refrain of hers has been: “I am a woman. I am a mother.” But that doesn’t mean that her stance on issues is particularly maternal or nurturing. She is antagonism with a smile.
These leaders who define themselves by what they are not have subverted the usual political costuming. Britain’s former prime minister Boris Johnson, who took on the task of Brexit, was essentially a giant mop of mussed blond hair. It was his defining aesthetic gesture. It was his self-created synecdoche. The hair was a mess. The hair was out of control. The hair was unruly. The hair was eventually pushed out of office in a swirl of anger and disgust stirred in part by a failure to abide by the government’s covid-19 rules.
For four years, Americans had a president whose essence could be caricatured as a few rivulets of yellow hair and a Scotch-taped tie that drooped down to his knees. Here was the barest exoskeleton of structure and order. Here was a symbol of the wretched disregard for pesky norms and traditions and, according to the Jan. 6 committee, the Constitution itself.
Politics is serious business, but it’s conducted on a stage, and so it’s theater, too. Participants play against type, and they settle into cliches as they make their pitch to voters, who aren’t stirred so much by policy promises as they are by a gut feeling that the candidate gets them — or is willing to stick it to those folks that the voters just don’t get.
Meloni plays the ballsy woman. In the many tales of her political rise, people are reminded that she is probably Italy’s first female prime minister. But what does this bit of history mean? If nothing else, it’s a reminder that women should be allowed to try, fail and try again, in the same way that men have done for centuries. It’s also a reminder to let go of certain assumptions about women in leadership. We tend to believe a fairy tale that has women bringing a kumbaya perspective to leadership. In politics, it’s typically presumed that women will bring a greater degree of cooperation and civility. Maybe they will be more attuned to issues that overwhelmingly affect women, whether it’s reproductive health care or child care or the care and nurturing of career goals. Women will look out for women.
Giorgia Meloni could become Italy’s first female prime minister. Here’s what to know. 
But while Meloni has been attuned to child-care issues, she is not a believer in the programs that have championed gender parity in politics, boardrooms and classrooms. She is not viewed as a reliable defender of abortion access. So many of her stances, such as her argument against allowing same sex couples to adopt, are simply cruel. “I’m not in favor of adoption [by same-sex couples],” she said in a recent interview with The Washington Post. “I’m not, because I think that a child who’s unlucky needs to be given what’s best, right? And what’s best is having a father and a mother.” She is not the things that so many see as the reason it’s important to bring women into the leadership fold.
Meloni isn’t messy or unruly like Trump or Johnson. But her rhetoric can be just as bilious, if not more so. She isn’t ready to welcome outsiders with open arms; frankly, she would prefer to slam the door in the face of strangers. She portends heartache for the LGBTQ community in Italy. She is on the verge of making history. A far-right populist with an affection for sneakers, jeans, bohemian accessories and a toxic brand of nationalism.