The original version of this article appeared in Italian in the L’Economia Civile section of the newspaper Avvenire, by the same author, on 18 June 2025.
In the latest European elections, populist parties scored major gains across several countries.
It was an electoral surge that disrupted the continent’s political balance — from Jordan Bardella in France to Alice Weidel in Germany, Călin Georgescu in Romania, and André Ventura in Portugal.
They have become the leading voices of a communication style that has found in social media its natural breeding ground — a space to grow, build loyalty, and convert popularity into votes.
Their messaging relies on a grammar that is instinctive, direct, at times brutal — but highly effective in the digital age.
New rules, no referees
Unlike traditional political communication, often constrained by institutional tones and empty formulas, populist movements have mastered social platforms to build consensus and identity — bypassing media filters and capitalising on outrage.
Consider Elon Musk’s live interview on X with Alice Weidel, leader of Germany’s far-right Alternative für Deutschland — a TV-style broadcast with no fact-checking, no moderation.
Short videos, memes, punchy slogans, micro-targeted ads: every piece of content is designed to grab attention, stir emotion and go viral.
Fears over immigration, economic insecurity and resentment toward elites are all repackaged into polarising messages that spread fast — especially among younger audiences.
It’s not just about platforms, but about tone and format.
Populist leaders behave more like influencers than traditional politicians: they speak like users, mirror online language, reply to comments, and appear authentic — even rebellious.
Bardella moves like a pop star on TikTok. Weidel has built a loyal digital fanbase. Georgescu and Ventura rely on storytelling that feels closer to reaction videos than campaign speeches. And it works.
The assault on the US Capitol in Washington, DC, by MAGA supporters on 6 January 2021. Photo: Wikimedia Commons.
At the ballot box
Social media has become a space for identification and participation, a proxy for reality — especially for a generation that often feels excluded from public discourse. This is where the relationship between young people and politics is being redefined.
Historically, left-wing parties mobilised youth around progressive causes, such as social justice, environmentalism and civil rights.
Today, it’s the populist right that speaks their language, channelling anger and frustration over issues that hit closer to home: job insecurity, housing access and a widespread sense of precarity.
The populists’ promise to “change everything” echoes the spirit of past youth movements, reframed in a reactionary key.
Among men under 35 in particular, the radical right’s appeal intersects with a growing identity crisis. Many blame gender equality policies for a perceived loss of status and connection, when the real causes lie in economic hardship and the erosion of communal spaces.
In this vacuum, social media becomes a powerful engine of belonging and radicalisation.
Former Democratic presidential candidate and Vermont Senator Bernie Sanders at a 2019 rally. Photo: Unsplash.
Leader wanted
This phenomenon, combined with the personalisation of leadership, suggests that the communication style of all political forces — even the most moderate — is becoming increasingly similar to that of populists.
In some respects, that holds true. But at the extremes, the rhetoric grows more aggressive, invoking a notion of the “people-as-community” to be mobilised, often with an anti-political undertone.
The American left, for its part, is watching and reflecting.
Figures like Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez — the youngest woman ever elected to Congress, and of Puerto Rican descent — are attempting to build a progressive populist alternative, with backing from Bernie Sanders and a strong media presence. But the path remains long and steep.
For now, the right appears better attuned to the present: speaking plainly, appearing relatable, occupying media space broadly and tapping into a widespread desire for revenge.
Until their opponents step beyond familiar communication frameworks, they risk going unheard in the background noise of the algorithm.
It’s not just a question of digital strategy. It’s about grasping how consensus is built, how identity is shaped, and how discontent is voiced.
Whoever masters the grammar of the internet — rooted more in emotion than in content — holds the upper hand.
