Across the globe, democracy is in decline. Key democratic characteristics (citizen participation, representative accountability and informational transparency) are in deepening crisis. These cleavages, from disputed elections and executive overreach to surging far-right movements, are no longer contained within borders but are actively shaping foreign policy, market behaviour and conflict dynamics on the world stage. We live in an interconnected, globalised world, wherein backsliding and crisis in one area impacts outcomes and conduct in others.
The Export of Instability: When Internal Crises Go Global
Leaders facing domestic pressures will often turn outward to deflect, distract or to consolidate power. Democratic troubles are externalised, and attention and action are shifted to the rest of the world. In terms of deflection and diversion, foreign policy may begin to focus on ‘rallying around the flag’. War, conflict and crisis can improve executive popularity in the short-term, as a foreign foe unites the populace against an external threat and improves the leader’s status to that of a protector. Opposition to conflict can be deemed unpatriotic, and nationalism can ease democratic divisions without the executive actually having to improve democracy in a substantive manner.
The media’s agenda is shifted away from government critiques and focus on internal struggles, and elections can be reframed as crisis-leadership choices rather than civic representation and values decisions. Amid domestic collapse in 1982, the Argentinian junta employed this tactic by invading the Falklands and turning its citizen’s frustrations to an overseas battle. Similarly, though non-democratic, Putin’s annexation of Crimea boosted his approval ratings. The annexation appealed to the empire-reminiscient aspects of the Russian collective consciousness, and framed Putin as the restorer of this bygone era of glory – rather than a cause of domestic socio-economic issues. Full-scale war as a diversionary foreign policy is unlikely in democratic countries, but low intensity conflicts and symbolic shows of force are certainly in their toolkits.
A common method of distraction is the scapegoating of external actors for internal crises. This may mean blaming foreign states for intervention and influence, often framing economic hardships on trade partners’ inadequacy rather than ineffective fiscal and monetary management at home. In the USA, for example, the recent lean towards hostile protectionist policies (e.g. tariffs on long-time European allies) could be interpreted as an externalisation of domestic economic missteps (e.g. 2017 major corporate and individual tax cuts). Another common variant of this scapegoating and burden-shifting concerns migrants, often a more effective tool since migration is rarely without controversy and pushback. Migrants’ visibility and differences in appearance make them easy marks for blame. In the UK, the recent rise of the far-right anti-immigration movement has allowed the relatively unpopular government to focus public opinion on migrant influxes, rather than state failures, austerity aftershocks and economic stagnation. Migrants, rather than consistently ineffective policy outputs, are framed as the hostile invading force.
As economies are plagued by slow growth and living standards incrementally fall, governments veer towards economic nationalism – rather than equitable restructuring. Domestic economic pressures give rise to outward-facing policies, framing the rest of the world’s conduct as the pre-eminent issue. Tariffs often increase during downturns, presented as a protective measure for domestic industry but generally (as can be currently observed in the USA) having regressive and contractionary impacts. Trade barriers, like favourable government procurement policies, may posture as ‘America First’ patriotism but also run the risk of holding up inefficient ‘sunset’ industries, leading to reduced competitiveness in the long-run. Appeals to ‘buy national’ certainly seem attractive to voters worried about occupational offshoring and de-industrialisation, but outward hostility is not a sustainable long-term respone to inward mismanagement problems.
Three Pressure Points: US, Europe and the Fragile Middle
The USA is riddled with institutional strain, polarisation and legitimacy crises. These ailments shape Washington’s international posture and reliability as an ally – policy becomes gridlocked in the short-term and dangerously volatile in the long-run. Drastically changing positions and values between administrations and undermining commitments with the ‘America First’ rhetoric, the super-power is an effective swing-state on the world stage. An illustrative example is climate policy reversal: the USA joined the Paris Agreement under Obama, withdrew under Trump’s first term, rejoined under Biden, and has recently withdrawn again under Trump’s second term. The nation is an unstable climate ally because its long-term commitment can never be guaranteed. In the future, this may lead to their simply being excluded from sustainability plans and thus left behind in collaborative innovations. Beyond the climate, a polarised congress and constant inter-branch conflicts make it difficult to ratify treaties, approve funding and pass aid packages – as seen with delays to Ukraine’s humanitarian funding.
Government shutdowns during bouts of disagreement also impact defence and diplomacy budgets, making the US an ever-shakier ally. Policy ‘flip-flopping’, legislative gridlock and deep internal polarisation undermine the USA’s global legitimacy. Contested elections, declining trust and increased political violence are not features we would expect of a democratic leader, meaning any future interventions in non-democratic countries (for which there is a strong American precedent) are dubious in terms of legitimacy – the call of authoritarianism coming increasingly from inside the house, and this hypocritical overreach is likely to be recognised in internal forums.
In Europe, the far-right movement is growing in support and influence across the continent. From Hungary and Italy to France and Germany, surging nationalism and reactionary conservatism will have lasting consequences for EU cohesion, transatlantic relations and responses to external threats. In terms of cohesion, we are seeing more and more obstructions to foreign policy choices, especially in the cases of Russia and Ukraine. Unanimity makes single states pivotal, as Hungary blocks the new sanctions on Russia and the new Ukrainian loan package (due to Druzhba pipeline disputes), the impact of just one nationalist government slowing collective action is highlighted in diluted policy outcomes. Policy begins to favour hard sovereignty, strong borders and internal security. For example, the far-right ‘Patriots for Europe’ have been given the lead role in negotiations for the next EU climate target, illustrating how domestic democratic polarisation has influence over industry versus climate priorities. This polarisation leads to a continental Overton Window shift to the right, as mainstream parties have to claw back voters by adopting more conservative and nationalist stances. As shown by Starmer’s recent comment on our “island of strangers” (an Enoch Powell dogwhistle), the far-right has a contagion effect, which then determines international conduct.
Regarding transatlantic relations, the Trump administration has already made it clear that it does not agree with Europe’s more progressive governance and would prefer the more right-wing minority parties to be in power. The administration’s contestation of the German government’s of labelling AfD as an ‘extremist’ group led to the label being paused. It is not unlikely that the USA may further politicise EU disputes, and even back the groups which align with their interests. In terms of external threat response, EU action is likely to be much slower and more conditional, and with more scope for leverage since the bloc’s security posture is increasingly fragmented.
Emerging democracies or backsliding states (like Brazil, India and Tunisia) may face even more challenges when balancing external relationships with internal legitimacy deficits. For Brazil, the strategy thus far has been reassertion of authority through autonomous strategic engagement. Balancing major powers’ conflicting interests (US and EU, China) to signal independence and confidence allows Brazil to enjoy beneficial partnerships without fully aligning with either side. This does pose questions, however, regarding eventual side-picking if global cleavages continue to deepen. The Brazilian government has also capitalised on global south leadership as a source of legitimacy, as well as climate policy to rebuild democratic credibility after Bolsonaro-era erosion. Similarly, India pursues multi-alignment over alliance in the face of democratic backsliding at home. Elections are competitive but uneven, protections are declining for minority groups, press and academic freedoms are in freefall, and institutional checks are weakening.
On the world stage, economic diplomacy (e.g. maintaining energy links with Russia) acts as a legitimacy anchor for an increasingly repressive regime. In Tunisia, elections are markedly non-competitive, power is highly concentrated with the executive following parliamentary suspension and constitutional overturn, civil liberties are in crisis and emergency rule appears entrenched. In response, the regime has shifted away from Western partners (who push reform). Saied’s consolidation of power has led to a rejection of IMF restructuring plans and a turn to the Gulf States for more unconditional financial support.
The Legitimacy Gap: Why Democratic Standing Matters Beyond Borders
Governments’ domestic standing should be understood as a key variable in international security calculations. When leaders lack legitimacy at home, their decision-making abroad becomes less predictable, more volatile and harder to deter. A lack of cohesion in choices due to internal fragmentation or opposition can lead to ambiguous, half-baked strategies. A divided government cannot pass a defense budget with united priorities, each faction’s interests sway choices in a certain direction and the final policy outcome is likely an incohesive amalgam of these conflicting goals. Moreover, institutional conflicts (like US tensions between the legislature, executive and judicial branches) mean that regimes are slow to respond to crises; when divided political elites finally reach their diluted agreements, they may be outdated and ineffective.
A less legitimate government (one not supported by the majority or one failing to meet democratic criteria) is also less credible as an international actor. Both threats and promises appear weaker when the current leadership faces the possibility of removal, and policy outputs face the possibility of eventual reversal. Their actions can be interpreted as bluffs, hedging and scrambling for allies and so their deterrents can be ineffective. Adversaries may choose to test boundaries with the weaker nation, perhaps even to strike first if they perceive desperation or the possibility of unpredictable escalation. Contested leaders may value short-term regime survival over long-term national interest, and will use foreign policy simply as a tool to stay in power. The need to swing certain constituencies or retain/gain the support of particular demographics can lead to sanctions, trade wars and even troop deployments that are placating devices in times of democratic crisis, rather than well-considered political moves. Allies, as well as enemies, see this conduct, and the democratically fragmented state may find itself simultaneously weakened and alone.
Aside from the reactions of other regimes to another’s democratic struggles, the response of other global citizens plays an important role. A nation with a failing democracy can both attract and repel migrants. Some opportunists may see less effective oversight as a way to bypass traditional obstacles to immigration, leading to influxes, while others may see the state as a less safe destination, leading to reductions. While the growing far-right may prefer the latter outcome, a sustained reduction in immigration can have disastrous consequences for nations, like the UK, which rely on immigrants for the provision of public services. For the financial markets, democratic cleavages may be seen as symptoms of economic instability, as a limited elite begin to amass the power of the people, the free market may appear to lose its freedom. This can lead to phenomena such as rapid capital flight, disincentivised investment and even currency free-falls if many investors choose to take their business and asset portfolios elsewhere at the same time. A crisis in democracy can give the markets a crisis of confidence, and speculation is an incredibly powerful force which no nation would ever want turned against its favour.
Case Study: The Role of Domestic Political Cleavages in Shaping Responses to the Gaza Conflict
In the USA, rife polarisation in the political sphere led to volatile mediation and contested credibility as a regional leader. Domestic division has led many to see the USA’s actions as performative diplomacy and posturing. The regime’s attitude toward the conflict reflects only one side of the electorate’s wishes – the administration and legislature alike continue to staunchly support Israel and back continued funding despite many citizens pushing for a ceasefire or a ‘Free Palestine’. Democratic backsliding in the USA, toward authoritarianism and plutocracy, has allowed corporations near-unmitigated influence over government policy. Many of these corporations (weapons, construction, surveillance) have vested interests in Israel’s victory. Gaza is more of a symbol of the USA’s hegemon status than the recipient of any meaningful humanitarian action. The Board of Peace, Kushner’s reconstruction plan and the (surely misguided) appointment of Tony Blair to future leadership shows that Gaza is being used simply as a signal of continued US superpower strength – both the desires of the American electorate and the voices of Gazans themselves are systematically ignored, and the conflict is utilised to mask democratic decline on home soil.
In the UK, parliamentary stresses over popularity have led to carefully calibrated, effectively empty rhetoric and staunch non-commitment. The government simultaneously toes the line of Israel’s ‘right to defend itself’ while lamenting the tragedy (which many have called genocide) endured by the Gazans under occupation. Gaza policy has created serious party cohesion issues among civilian members and party leadership alike, the conflict is a contentious issue in the UK and the already unpopular government must now manage a split electorate. As a result, policies regarding the region are tepid and substantive change seems a long way off.
Conversely, South Africa champions Palestinian rights and self-determination in the international legal sphere. Its strong pro-Palestinian position is closely tied to democratic factors like history, public opinion, party politics and constitutional norms. The ruling African National Congress links the Palestinian struggle to apartheid in South Africa; Mandela famously highlighted this parallel, too. Policy is thus a reflection of a widely shared moral-historical consensus to end “the last remaining case of apartheid-style oppression”. Pro-Palestinian sentiment is widespread in South African societies, so politicians actually gain legitimacy by aligning with this unified public opinion – unlike the US and UK where politicians risk alienating sectors of the polarised electorate with certain stances. Moreover, while the US is no longer a voting member on the UNHRC and the UK’s growing far-right wants to withdraw from the ECHR, South Africa’s post-1994 Constitution emphasises human rights and international law. While the democratically divided Western states choose incoherent hedging strategies, democratic unity on the Palestinian conflict can explain South Africa’s filing of a genocide case against Israel in the ICJ.
Conclusion
To conclude, democratic crises, cleavages and declines are abundant on the world stage. The third wave of democratisation appears to be over, and a polarised, more autocratic competitor is posed to take democracy’s place. This lack of ‘rule by the people’ means foreign policy is increasingly unpredictable; highly politicised regimes are transforming international relations into a more volatile sphere. This democratic ‘recession’ poses serious security threats – less legitimate leaders are power-centred realists, with less checks on actions and a higher likelihood of allowing extreme political convictions to guide international conduct.
