Reading *The Populist Moment* by Anton Jäger and Arthur Borriello felt like revisiting a conversation I’ve been having with myself for years—a conversation about the promise and pitfalls of populism, about hope, disillusionment, and what it takes to achieve lasting political change.
The authors examine the rise and fall of left populism in Europe and the USA since the 2008 economic crisis and austerity measures that followed. The book is filled with the sense that the old certainties of class struggle, the foundation for so much leftist politics, no longer hold the same unifying power:
"The harder it is to reduce political conflict to a binary opposition between capital and labor in the manufacturing sector, the less the industrial working class can regard itself as the key political subject for social transformation—and the more tempting a populist approach will be for the left."
Once again the old riddle of how to form an alliance of working and middle classes came to front, but the challenge was how to do it now when traditional working class parties and unions lost their credibility. Populist movements have emerged to fill the gap, promising broad coalitions that are often too fragmented to sustain themselves.
Jäger and Borriello describe the conditions under which these populist moments arise—moments where traditional parties lose credibility, social groups cry out for unification, and charismatic leaders use new media to mobilize disillusioned masses. As they put it:
"From the People’s Party to the Five Star Movement, the populist moments erupt in situations where a social democratic option was either unavailable or discredited, the channels of democratic mediation were clogged, and the main social groups of a popular coalition were relatively fragmented and isolated."
The authors don’t shy away from showing how precarious these coalitions are—how quickly they rise, and how inevitably they fall apart.
One of the most poignant sections of the book recounts the reflections of Spanish activists after a decade of populist struggle. They described their early optimism, their sense of belonging, and the thrill of glimpsing a possible victory. But by the end, all that remained was bitterness and disillusionment:
"Camaraderie between populists had given way to personal enmity, acrimony, even hatred between former teammates. At the end of the political cycle opened by the Great Recession, they were feeling—and looked—considerably older. They had aged, but time had also sped up."
This sense of time slipping away, of opportunities missed, probably feels so personal to everyone who was active in any of these or similar movements in the previous 15 years. It’s a reminder that political movements aren’t just intellectual exercises; they’re lived experiences that leave their mark on the people involved.
The book also dives deep into the structural challenges that left populists face, especially in the digital age. While online organizing lowers barriers to entry, it also makes disengagement just as easy:
"Cheap entry costs translated into cheap exits. The 100,000 who joined Momentum had little but online mailing lists and Twitter accounts to sign up for; the voting mechanisms by which they exercised power were notoriously opaque."
In other words, we’re always connected, but rarely committed. Digital platforms make movements feel immediate and accessible, but they struggle to build the long-term solidarity and discipline that older mass parties once had.
By the end of the book, I was left with more questions than answers—which, I think, is exactly the point. Jäger and Borriello don’t pretend to offer a clear roadmap for the left. Instead, they lay out the tensions and contradictions inherent in populism and challenge us to grapple with them. Should we embrace alliances with center-left parties or risk losing outsider credibility? Should we stick to rapid, media-driven campaigns or invest in the painstaking work of party-building?
"Should left populism seek alliances with surviving center-left parties and consolidate its gains, albeit at the risk of ceding outsider status? Or should it stick to its mostly digital, pop-up-style organization to launch blitzkrieg campaigns across election cycles?"
These aren’t just theoretical questions—they’re the dilemmas we face every day in trying to imagine a better world.
*The Populist Moment* is a book about hope, but not the naive kind. It’s about the kind of hope that survives disappointment, that acknowledges failure without giving up. It’s a sobering yet inspiring reminder that political transformation is possible—but only if we’re willing to confront the messy, often painful realities of collective action.