The role of the media in the mainstreaming of the far right

Abstract

Viktor Orbán, the Hungarian prime minister, recently “sparked outrage” for declaring that Hungarians are not “a mixed race” and do not want “to become a mixed race”.1 In a letter of resignation, one of his long-time advisers, Zsuzsa Hegedüs, told him in no uncertain terms that he had crossed a line, saying what was once “anti-migrant and anti-Europeanism” had now turned into “a pure Nazi speech worthy of Goebbels”.2

At a time when the resurgence of far-right politics has become commonly acknowledged as one of the key challenges facing democracies, it may feel reassuring to see prominent figures taking a stand. Yet often, when reactions to, and discussion of, the far-right take an adversarial approach, they tend to portray the threat as exceptional, as a shocking digression from our mainstream norms. Note how Hegedüs appeared comfortable with Orbán's conscious and sustained slide towards far-right politics for years, until the little veneer of respectability was lost and it was no longer possible to deny his far-right status – in this case, comparable to the Nazis no less.

It is as if, in much of our public discourse, racism remains ‘frozen’ in time.7 Of course, this ignores the incredible wealth of research conducted on the concept, demonstrating that, unsurprisingly, it has evolved with its times and taken new shapes and forms.8 Yet it is common to see what should be described as racism, based on most serious research on the matter, instead euphemised under other, less precise, but also stigmatising terms such as ‘nativism’ and ‘populism’. This in turn is what allows those responsible for embracing far-right politics for cheap political gain or clickbait to separate themselves from the caricatural understanding of ‘racism’ when it becomes too obvious, as in the Hungarian case: how can I be racist myself if I denounce racism? This was particularly striking during Euro 2020 when members of the UK government condemned racist abuse directed towards Marcus Rashford, Jadon Sancho and Bukayo Saka. As England teammate Tyrone Mings rightly pointed out: “You don't get to stoke the fire at the beginning of the tournament by labelling our anti-racism message as ‘Gesture Politics’ and then pretend to be disgusted when the very thing we're campaigning against, happens.”9 That the racism denounced is just the most illiberal articulation of a malleable ideology serves to excuse, conceal or downplay more mundane but also systemic and liberal articulations.10

As a result, saying that the far-right is a serious threat is not enough. We must not exceptionalise, euphemise or detract from the agenda-setting capacity that elites hold in society. What we urgently require is more accountability for those with privileged access to shaping public discourse. As Katy Brown shows in her research, talking ‘with’ and talking ‘about’ the far-right can mean legitimising, hyping and mainstreaming such politics.17 As such, we must of course seek to understand the far-right, the roots of its appeal and its trajectory, but this must always be in order to combat it. Understanding should never mean excusing, euphemising or providing exaggerated platforms to ideas that not only threaten already weakened democracies but also put the lives of many at direct risk.