After the Second World War, Europe rebuilt itself not only economically, but also morally and politically. The aftermath of fascism and the experience of the so-called ‘total war’ produced a broad consensus: liberal democracy, economic integration, and multinational cooperation would shape the continent's future. These new ideas laid the foundation for a new political system, which eventually led to the establishment of the modern European Union.
For years, this new model seemed to be stable. Center-left and center-right parties were competing for office, while agreeing on the fundamentals: deeper integration, expanding rights, and open markets. Competition existed, but it was for the common good within a shared framework. The extremes that once conquered Europe seemed to be a thing of the past.
By the early twenty-first century, however, the postwar consensus was under a visible strain. The financial crisis in 2008 hit countries like Greece especially hard, exposing the economic weaknesses the European institutions struggled to manage. A few years later, the 2015 migration crisis reignited debates over borders, sovereignty, and cultural cohesion. Together, these accumulated pressures reshaped the political landscape and created space for parties that go against the order.
Across the continent, movements that were once considered to be fringe began gaining power—from Fratelli d'Italia in Italy to Rassemblement National in France and Alternative für Deutschland in Germany. This rise cannot be explained by extremism alone. It was fueled by the growing perception that the mainstream parties had become detached from their voters, especially on immigration and the state of the economy.
One clear example of this shift is the surge of Alternative für Deutschland, or AfD, in Germany. Founded in 2013, the newly established party narrowly missed entering parliament with 4.7 percent of the vote. Just four years later, it rose to 12.6 percent, securing 94 seats and becoming the third largest party in the German parliament. Eventually the elections in February 2025 showed a dramatic increase; AfD's votes went up to 20.8 percent, winning 152 seats and becoming the second largest party in the country. Considering Germany's experience with National Socialism and its postwar commitment to a political system driven by consensus, the continued rise of the AfD shows a structural shift in political representation. The normalization of the AfD in parliamentary politics shows its support is no longer only from protest voters, but it reflects a wider reconfiguration of Germany's political landscape.
The rise of these movements is often considered to be a simple, reactionary “backlash”, yet this overlooks the deeply carved economic resentment that the postwar consensus failed to address. For decades, the European leadership prioritized aggregate GDP growth and economic belt-tightening. While the EU's overall GDP grew by approximately 1.5% annually between 2010 and 2019, this so-called recovery from the 2008 financial crisis was unevenly distributed. This uneven distribution was not only a matter of statistical inequality, but of structural divergence. Economic gains were disproportionately focused on metropolitan centers, while the others struggled with stagnation, demographic decline, and shrinking public investment. For many people, wage growth couldn't keep up with the rising cost of living, which shows that the macroeconomic stability did not translate into a personal level. The outbreak of the Russo-Ukrainian War intensified these problems. The reliance of Europe on Russian energy sources showed the weaknesses of a model that emphasized economic interdependence as opposed to geopolitical sustainability. When gas resources declined and the cost of energy skyrocketed, the support for a populist movement reflected not only an ideological change but also an indication of economic insecurity.
The economic decline of the last decade was only one dimension of a much larger problem. There has been a growing perception that the European states were losing control over their most essential duties, border enforcement and the management of social infrastructure. The 2015 immigration crisis, which brought over a million asylum seekers into the continent, is often thought to be the catalyst. It's not only the number of arrivals that concerned people, but the fact that the governments were either unable or unwilling to control the change. In multiple countries, the debate over immigration switched from a humanitarian question to a wider anxiety on cultural collision.
The cultural collision was something more than a simple difference in values; in several regions, it came down to a severe breakdown of basic public safety and the emergence of ‘parallel societies.’ While some politicians labeled anxieties about security to be a right-wing overstatement, the everyday reality of many working-class suburbs, or sometimes even in big cities, shows a different picture. For an average citizen, the concept of ‘security’ cannot be measured by abstract numbers, but by the visible transformation of their surroundings and the government's inability to maintain order.
Sweden is the prime example of this institutional failure. Sweden was once thought to be the standard of European democracy and an open door humanitarianism, but now the country is facing an unprecedented level of internal security crisis. According to the Swedish National Council for Crime Prevention (Brå), Sweden went from having one of Europe's lowest fatal shooting rates to the highest in just over a decade. Recent metrics are showing that Sweden's rate of gun homicides stands at 4 deaths per million inhabitants, which more than doubles the European average of 1.6.
Much of the recent rise in violent activities is concentrated in socially vulnerable suburban districts, fueled mostly by territorial disputes among organized crime groups. Official reports from the Swedish Police Authority shows the depth of the crisis, by mapping a criminal underworld composed of around 17,500 active gang members, as well as 50,000 affiliates. This violence has further spread into public spaces. According to The Economist, Sweden has recorded over 30 bomb attacks in January 2025 alone, which is an unprecedented level of explosive violence in contemporary liberal democracy.
Ultimately, belittling the rise of the European far-right as a simple ‘backlash’ is not only just a severe understatement, but also it is politically dangerous. When the political establishment neglects the microeconomic reality over aggregate macroeconomic growth, and when it ignores the visible decline of local security in favor of humanitarianism, voters will eventually seek alternatives. This rightward shift should not be labeled as an unreasonable descent into extremism; but a strong democratic signal. It represents a rational, although sometimes disruptive, correction by people who feel left out by the system created by a postwar consensus that failed to address its basic functions of economic stability and public safety. The survival of the postwar European model depends on a fundamental, administrative change in governance: mainstream leaders must stop treating this political shift as an extremist anomaly to be silenced, and start recognizing it as a democratic signal demanding immediate solutions.
Sungjae Han is a columnist at Asia-Pacific Democracy Incubator. He is a Business student at Korea University with a concentrated interest in European political dynamics, security developments, and the rise of right-wing populism across the continent.