A resurgence of racism in the West

By Matthew Parish

Thursday 30 April 2026

The suggestion that the West may be experiencing a resurgence of racism, and even flirtations with fascism, is one that has migrated from the margins of political discourse into the mainstream. It is voiced with urgency by activists, dismissed as hysteria by some politicians, and treated with cautious ambivalence by scholars who recall that history has a tendency to repeat itself in altered forms rather than in perfect imitation. To assess the validity of this claim requires a careful disentangling of rhetoric from reality, and of structural change from episodic political theatre.

The first difficulty lies in defining the terms themselves. Racism in its most traditional sense refers to the belief in the inherent superiority of one race over another, often accompanied by discriminatory practices embedded in law or custom. Fascism by contrast is a more complex and historically specific phenomenon, associated above all with interwar Europe. It entails not merely authoritarian governance, but a synthesis of ultranationalism, mass mobilisation, suppression of dissent, and the subordination of individual liberty to a mythologised conception of the state. To claim that these forces are resurging is therefore to make a profound historical accusation.

There are undoubtedly developments in contemporary Western societies that lend credence to such concerns. Over the past decade, political movements characterised by nationalist rhetoric, hostility to immigration and scepticism towards liberal democratic norms have gained electoral traction in numerous countries. These movements often deploy language that, while avoiding explicit biological racism, nonetheless draws sharp cultural or civilisational boundaries. The distinction between “us” and “them” is framed not in terms of race but of values, religion or historical belonging. Yet the functional effect may be similar: the exclusion or marginalisation of perceived outsiders.

Moreover digital media has transformed the landscape in which such ideas circulate. Platforms that reward provocation and emotional intensity have proven fertile ground for extremist narratives. Conspiracy theories, once confined to obscure pamphlets, now reach millions within hours. Amongst these narratives are thinly veiled or overtly racist ideologies, often repackaged in the language of cultural preservation or demographic anxiety. The velocity of this dissemination creates the impression of a groundswell, even when the underlying adherents may constitute a minority.

At the level of state policy certain measures have raised alarms amongst those attentive to historical precedent. Restrictions on asylum, increased surveillance powers, and the politicisation of judicial or electoral institutions can, in aggregate, suggest a drift away from liberal norms. In some instances governments have sought to consolidate power by framing dissent as disloyalty, or by casting minority groups as threats to national cohesion. These are patterns that in earlier eras formed part of the prelude to more overtly authoritarian systems.

Yet it would be a mistake to interpret these developments as a straightforward return to the fascism of the twentieth century. The institutional architecture of contemporary Western states remains, in most cases, robust. Independent courts, free media and civil society organisations continue to operate and, crucially, to resist encroachments upon their autonomy. Elections are contested and, notwithstanding controversies, generally reflect the will of the electorate. The resilience of these structures distinguishes the present moment from the conditions that enabled the rise of fascist regimes in the interwar period.

Furthermore Western societies today are markedly more diverse and, in many respects, more self-aware than their historical predecessors. The very fact that allegations of racism provoke widespread debate is indicative of a normative shift. In earlier periods discriminatory practices were often unremarked, embedded as they were in the social fabric. Today they are contested, litigated and subject to public scrutiny. This does not mean that racism has disappeared, but it does suggest that its social acceptability has diminished.

The question then may not be whether racism and fascism are “returning” in their historical forms, but whether new configurations of exclusion and authoritarianism are emerging under different guises. Economic insecurity, exacerbated by globalisation and technological change, has created fertile ground for political narratives that promise protection and restoration. Migration, both real and perceived, has become a focal point for anxieties about identity and sovereignty. In this context appeals to national unity can easily shade into exclusionary ideologies.

There is also a deeper, structural dimension to consider. Liberal democracy rests upon a delicate balance between majority rule and minority rights. When this balance is perceived to tilt too far in either direction, political backlash is almost inevitable. In some Western countries, segments of the population feel that their cultural or economic position has been eroded, and that the institutions of the state no longer represent them. Political entrepreneurs have been quick to exploit these sentiments, sometimes in ways that echo, though do not replicate, the dynamics of earlier authoritarian movements.

The historical analogy with fascism is therefore both illuminating and misleading. It is illuminating insofar as it draws attention to warning signs: the erosion of norms, the stigmatisation of minorities, the centralisation of power. It is misleading insofar as it suggests an inevitability or a uniformity that does not exist. The West is not a monolith, and its political trajectories vary widely. In some countries nationalist movements have surged; in others, they have receded. In some, institutional checks have held firm; in others, they have come under strain.

The question is not merely descriptive but normative. Whether one interprets current developments as a resurgence of racism or a prelude to fascism will depend, in part, upon one’s expectations of what liberal democracy ought to be. If it is to remain a system grounded in pluralism, tolerance and the rule of law, then vigilance is required. The lessons of history do not dictate outcomes, but they do provide a vocabulary for recognising patterns that, if left unchecked, may lead in dangerous directions.

The West then finds itself in a moment of tension rather than transformation. The forces that sustain liberal democracy remain in place, but they are contested. Racism has not re-emerged in its most explicit forms, yet it persists in subtler guises. Fascism has not returned, yet certain of its rhetorical and structural elements can be discerned at the margins of political life. The task for contemporary societies is to confront these tendencies without succumbing to the fatalism that assumes their triumph. History offers warnings, not prophecies.