The Strategic Exploitation of Conspiracy Theories by Populist Leaders

Abstract

Populist leaders have strategically exploited conspiracy theories as powerful political tools to shape national identities, delegitimise opponents, and consolidate their authority. This paper examines the historical genealogy of conspiratorial populism, tracing its evolution across distinct political and economic crises from the 1970s to the present. Using a threefold analytical framework—(1) constructing external threats, (2) demonising domestic elites, and (3) positioning populists as the defenders of the “pure people”—the study demonstrates how conspiracy theories have been central to the rise and endurance of nativist populism. By analysing key historical waves—ranging from the economic turmoil of the 1970s, the collapse of communism, the post-9/11 security environment, the 2008 financial crisis, and the 2015 refugee crisis, to the COVID-19 pandemic and ongoing geopolitical conflicts—this paper highlights how conspiratorial narratives have been repeatedly adapted to shifting socio-political contexts.

1. Introduction

The relationship between populism and conspiracy theories is well established, with populist leaders frequently deploying conspiratorial narratives to construct external threats, vilify domestic elites, and legitimise their own authority. In Weaponizing Conspiracy Theories (Bergmann 2025), I demonstrated that conspiracy theories are not merely rhetorical flourishes, but serve as strategic instruments in consolidating power. This article advances that argument by offering a genealogical analysis of conspiratorial populism, tracing its evolution through multiple historical waves in response to crises. While my previous work identified three distinct waves of conspiratorial populism since the 1970s (Bergmann 2020), this study refines and extends that framework by situating these waves within a broader and more frequent pattern of poly-crisis-driven populism in the postwar era.

Building upon a growing body of literature on the intersections of populism and conspiracism (Mudde and Kaltwasser 2017; Mounk 2018; Butter and Knight 2020; Butter et al. 2025), this study offers a new analytical model for understanding the strategic exploitation of conspiracy theories by populist leaders. Specifically, I outline three core mechanisms through which conspiratorial populism operates: (1) the construction of external threats, (2) the framing of domestic elites as traitors, and (3) the self-positioning of populist leaders as saviours of the “pure people”. These mechanisms, upon which I will elaborate in this introduction, provide a framework for examining how conspiratorial narratives have been systematically integrated into populist discourse across different historical contexts.

A key contribution of this study is its reassessment of the temporal dynamics of conspiratorial populism. Whereas my previous research identified three major waves of populist conspiracism, I argue here that these waves are embedded within a broader pattern of recurrent populist surges, each linked to moments of profound social, economic, and geopolitical instability. The article thus reframes our understanding of the frequency and intensity of populist conspiracism in the wake of successive crises, from the postwar era to the present.

I begin by revisiting the three waves I previously identified. The first wave of conspiratorial populism arose in the 1970s in response to the Oil Crisis, with leaders such as Jean-Marie Le Pen in France and Mogens Glistrup in Denmark casting international financial institutions as secretive cabals undermining national sovereignty. The second wave, emerging in the 1990s and early 2000s, centred on anxieties over immigration and globalisation in the wake of the collapse of communism (1989) and the 9/11 terrorist attacks (2001). Figures like Geert Wilders in the Netherlands and Jimmie Åkesson in Sweden embraced the ‘Eurabia’ conspiracy, which portrayed European integration as a plot to erase national identities. The third wave, which accelerated after the 2008 financial crisis and the 2015 refugee crisis, saw populist leaders like Donald Trump and Viktor Orbán position themselves as defenders of the people against ‘globalist elites’—often embodied by figures such as George Soros—who were allegedly orchestrating mass migration to erode national identity.

This article, however, extends beyond the three-wave model to argue that conspiratorial populism has become an increasingly recurrent and intensified phenomenon in response to the postwar era’s succession of overlapping crises. I conceptualise this shift as a move from distinct waves to an era of “poly-crisis populism”, in which crises—ranging from financial shocks to migration waves to public health emergencies—have become more frequent and overlapping, sustaining a continuous environment of populist conspiratorial mobilisation.

In light of this reconceptualisation, the paper also asks whether we are witnessing the emergence of a fourth wave of conspiratorial populism in response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and the wake of the return of Donald Trump to power in 2025. These crises have already generated new conspiracy-driven populism, blending older tropes—such as globalist elites manipulating world events—with newer anxieties about public health, digital surveillance, and geopolitical realignments.

By reassessing the historical development of conspiratorial populism through the lens of poly-crisis-driven mobilisation, this paper contributes to populism studies and conspiracy theory research by challenging the assumption that conspiratorial populism follows discrete, episodic waves. Instead, I argue that the postwar period has been characterised by a more persistent and intensifying interplay between crises and populist conspiracy theories, with shorter intervals between peaks of conspiratorial mobilisation. This genealogical approach thus offers a new conceptual framework for understanding how populist leaders continually adapt conspiracy theories to shifting crisis contexts, ensuring their enduring strategic utility in political mobilisation.

2. Three-Step Rhetorical Model

Before delving into analysing each period, let me first further outline the theoretical framework of the analysis—the three-step rhetorical model often used by conspiratorial populists: pointing to an external enemy, accusing a domestic elite of betrayal, and positioning oneself as the true defender of the people against both (Bergmann 2025).

2.1. First Step: Constructing External Threats: The Role of ‘Dangerous Others’

One of the populist conspiratorial leaders’ core strategies is constructing an external threat that allegedly endangers the “pure people”. This technique resonates with Richard Hofstadter’s (1964) concept of the ‘paranoid style’ in politics. In Europe, this has often materialised in the form of the Eurabia theory, which claims that Western elites are facilitating an Islamic takeover of Europe (Camus 2011) Great Replacement theory has further reinforced this narrative, influencing figures like Marine Le Pen in France and Matteo Salvini in Italy.

In the United States, Donald Trump’s use of the “Deep State” conspiracy theory exemplifies how populists frame shadowy bureaucratic networks as existential threats. This rhetoric delegitimised political institutions and justified authoritarian impulses (Uscinski et al. 2020). Similarly, in Russia, Vladimir Putin has weaponised anti-Western conspiracy theories, portraying the European Union and NATO as orchestrating covert attacks on Russian sovereignty (Yablokov 2018).

2.2. Second Step: Demonising Domestic Elites: The ‘Betrayal’ Narrative

Populist leaders frequently claim that domestic elites are complicit in these conspiratorial threats. This framing echoes Mudde’s (2004) definition of populism as a binary struggle between ‘the people’ and ‘the corrupt elite’.

In Hungary, Viktor Orbán has characterised George Soros as the embodiment of elite treachery, accusing him of funding NGOs that undermine Hungarian sovereignty (Krekó et al. 2019). Here, we also see how antisemitism is often woven into populist conspiracy theories. In the United States, Trump’s ‘Stop the Steal’ movement utilised similar narratives, alleging widespread election fraud orchestrated by an elite cabal (Bergmann 2025). These claims erode trust in democratic institutions, fostering political polarisation and radicalisation (Stanley 2018).

2.3. Third Step: Populists as ‘Saviours of the People’

Finally, populist leaders position themselves as the only true defenders of the people against these threats. This performative act of self-stylisation aligns with ‘performative populism’ (Moffitt 2016), wherein leaders employ crisis narratives to consolidate their authority.

Jair Bolsonaro, in Brazil, for instance, framed himself as the last bulwark against ‘communist infiltration’, mirroring Trump’s rhetoric of protecting America from radical leftists (De Sá Guimarães et al. 2023). Similarly, Boris Johnson’s Brexit campaign relied on conspiratorial tropes about the European Union conspiring to strip Britain of its sovereignty (Vasilopoulou 2020).

As this paper will demonstrate, populist leaders’ strategic use of conspiracy theories has evolved to become central to their political strategies. Next, I will analyse separate historical periods of distinct poly-crises in the postwar era, using the aforementioned three-step rhetorical model of conspiratorial populism as a framework.

3. Oil Crisis Rising in 1973

The 1973 Oil Crisis marked a pivotal moment in modern political and economic history. It reshaped global energy policies and provided fertile ground for the emergence of conspiratorial populism. The crisis, triggered by the Organization of Arab Petroleum Exporting Countries (OAPEC)’s decision to impose an oil embargo, led to soaring fuel prices, economic stagnation, and widespread public discontent in the West. This economic upheaval gave rise to a new wave of political narratives, where populist leaders framed the crisis to be a result of deliberate manipulations by global elites, international organisations, and foreign actors. Although populism and conspiracy theories have long been a part of politics, this historical juncture marked the first significant success of postwar European parties built on populism, nationalism, and conspiratorial narratives (Bergmann 2020). The rise of nationalist populism during economic turmoil underscores how crises catalyse conspiracy-laden political discourses, in which “the people” are portrayed as victims of elite machinations.

The Oil Crisis had profound economic repercussions, particularly in the West. The sudden quadrupling of oil prices led to inflation, economic downturns, and mass unemployment, fuelling resentment towards political elites and international organisations. Many Western nations experienced what came to be known as “stagflation”—a combination of stagnant economic growth and high inflation—which challenged prevailing economic orthodoxies and deepened public discontent and frustration (Anonymous).

Amidst these economic struggles, populist leaders sought to capitalise on widespread dissatisfaction by constructing narratives that blamed shadowy elites, foreign powers, and international institutions for the financial hardship. This period marked the early stages of a recurring pattern in populist discourse: the weaponisation of economic anxiety through conspiracy theories. These narratives were particularly potent in nationalist circles, where they intertwined with existing fears about the erosion of national sovereignty.

Understanding the role of nationalism as a reaction to perceived external threats is pivotal for understanding its effects. Following the Oil Crisis, nationalist populists across Europe and North America leveraged economic grievances to advance protectionist and anti-globalist sentiments. They constructed a dualistic narrative that framed international financial institutions and global corporations as enemies of the people. This rhetoric aligned with earlier nationalist discourses that had historically framed national sovereignty as being under siege by external forces.

One prominent theme during this period was that external actors were deliberately weakening Western nations. In the United States, this was reflected in the growing scepticism towards the OPEC and the broader global economic system. Some right-wing populists claimed that the oil-producing nations were not acting independently, but were instead conspiring with Western financial elites to redistribute wealth and undermine national economies. Similar sentiments emerged in Europe, where populist parties accused the European Economic Community (EEC) and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) of imposing policies favouring multinational corporations over ordinary citizens’ interests.

The economic turmoil of the 1970s fuelled a surge in conspiracy theories, many of which were propagated by populist leaders seeking to channel public anger into political support. These conspiracy narratives typically followed a familiar pattern: they identified an external enemy (OPEC, international bankers, multinational corporations), an internal betrayer (national elites, globalist politicians), and a righteous defender (the populist leader or movement). This formula allowed populists to position themselves as the only authentic representatives of the people’s interests. Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front (now known as National Rally) gained significant traction in France by effectively exploiting widespread public resentment over economic instability. During the tumultuous Oil Crisis of the 1970s, Le Pen and other far-right figures positioned foreign actors and a compliant domestic elite as scapegoats, blaming them for the suffering of the French populace.

For instance, they pointed to rising unemployment and inflation, claiming that international oil companies and foreign nations conspired to weaken France’s economy. This narrative of “national betrayal” resonated deeply with many citizens, particularly in regions hit hard by job losses and economic decline. It reinforced the belief that mainstream political parties were either incapable or unwilling to protect the interests of ordinary French citizens, thus pushing many to consider the far right as a viable alternative (Shields 2007).

Moreover, Le Pen often invoked historical grievances, citing examples such as the loss of Algeria, presenting it as part of a larger narrative of France being undermined by external forces. The combination of economic tumult and historical resentment allowed the National Front’s ideology to take root, attracting disillusioned voters who felt abandoned by traditional parties. With promises of restoring national pride and sovereignty, the party effectively capitalised on the electorate’s frustrations, signalling a shift in the political landscape that would have lasting implications for French society.

Similarly, in the United States, elements of the conservative movement began adopting conspiratorial rhetoric about the oil industry and global financial institutions. Anti-government sentiment, already present in the wake of the Vietnam War and Watergate scandal, was further exacerbated by claims that the American government was secretly colluding with foreign powers to keep oil prices high. These narratives laid the groundwork for the later rise of Reagan-era populism, which fused economic nationalism with scepticism toward international institutions (Stedman Jones 2014).

As the economic instability persisted, nationalist populists began advocating for policies prioritising national interests over global economic integration. Protectionist policies, state intervention in key industries, and restrictions on foreign investment became central themes in populist rhetoric. This shift toward economic nationalism was framed as a necessary response to the perceived failures of neoliberal globalisation.

Nationalist movements often seek to establish a sense of economic self-sufficiency to reinforce national identity. Following the Oil Crisis, similar ideas gained traction across Europe, where populist leaders called for reducing dependency on foreign oil and reasserting national control over economic policies. In some cases, this rhetoric extended to calls for nationalising energy resources. This move was framed as a practical financial strategy and a symbolic act of reclaiming national sovereignty.

In Britain, Enoch Powell, a right-wing populist known for his nationalist and anti-immigration views, used the crisis to argue against further European integration. He claimed that Britain’s connection with the European Economic Community (EEC) undermined its ability to respond effectively to economic crises. Powell’s arguments resonated with segments of the British public who felt that international organisations failed to protect national interests.

In his famous “Rivers of Blood” speech, Powell (1968) articulated a conspiratorial narrative against immigrants, suggesting that continued immigration would lead to the subjugation of the native white population. He recounted a conversation with a constituent who expressed fear that “the black man will have the whip hand over the white man” within 15 to 20 years. Powell further warned of dire consequences, stating, “As I look ahead, I am filled with foreboding; like the Roman, I seem to see ‘the River Tiber foaming with much blood’”. This rhetoric framed immigration as a deliberate threat to the nation’s social fabric, implying a conspiracy to undermine British society.

This first wave of conspiratorial populism set the stage for later iterations of nationalist populism. The economic anxieties of the 1970s created an ideal breeding ground for conspiracy theories that blamed global elites, international organisations, and foreign actors for national decline. While initially confined to the political fringes, these narratives gradually became mainstream political discourse, influencing subsequent populist movements.

The effects of the 1973 Oil Crisis demonstrate how economic crises can catalyse nationalist and conspiratorial narratives. By framing economic instability as the result of elite conspiracies, populist leaders could mobilise support, redefine political fault lines, and lay the groundwork for the subsequent waves of populism. This period underscores the cyclical nature of conspiratorial populism, where economic disruptions repeatedly provide the conditions necessary for the resurgence of nationalist, anti-elite, and protectionist rhetoric.

4. The Collapse of Communism in 1989

The fall of the Berlin Wall in 1989 and the subsequent collapse of communist regimes across Eastern Europe marked a seismic shift in global politics. This period, often framed as the triumph of liberal democracy and free-market capitalism, was initially celebrated as an era of renewed unity and international cooperation. Francis Fukuyama (1992) famously described this transition as the “end of history”, predicting the universalisation of Western-style democratic governance. However, this optimism swiftly encountered resistance as nationalist and conspiratorial narratives began to take root, challenging the supposed inevitability of liberal democracy.

This chapter explores the rise of conspiratorial populism following the collapse of communism. In contrast to the economically driven conspiracism of the first wave after the 1973 Oil Crisis, this wave shifted towards cultural and nationalist grievances. A central theme during this period was the creation of new internal and external adversaries to explain the uncertainties arising from the transformation of the post-Cold War era.

The sudden collapse of communist regimes left Eastern European nations in political and economic turmoil. Decades of centralised economic planning had resulted in inefficient industries, widespread corruption, and economies that were ill equipped for the transition to market capitalism. As new governments sought to implement rapid privatisation, the outcome was frequently the establishment of oligarchic structures, soaring inequality, and economic instability (Huntington 1996).

In this environment, populist leaders and movements discovered a welcoming audience by exploiting fears of foreign domination and economic betrayal. Numerous former communist states, including Russia, Hungary, and Poland, experienced the rise of conspiratorial narratives implying that Western financial institutions and political elites had orchestrated the collapse of communism to plunder national resources and impose culturally dominant imperialism.

For instance, in Russia, a prevalent conspiratorial belief was that Mikhail Gorbachev’s reforms were not a genuine attempt to democratise the Soviet system, but rather a Western-backed strategy aimed at dismantling the USSR (Yablokov 2018). Likewise, in Poland, the swift transition to capitalism prompted accusations that the country’s economic elite had colluded with international financial institutions such as the International Monetary Fund (IMF) and the World Bank to enrich themselves at the expense of ordinary citizens.

The populist rhetoric of this era was characterised by a decisive shift from economic grievances to cultural anxieties. Several interrelated factors drove this transition:

During the Cold War, anti-communism was a unifying ideological force in the West. With the collapse of the Soviet Union, this enemy vanished, creating a vacuum in populist rhetoric. In its place, new cultural and ethnic antagonists were identified, particularly immigrants, ethnic minorities, and globalist elites.

Many populists framed the Maastricht Treaty of 1992 and subsequent European Union (EU) expansion as an elite-driven project aimed at undermining national sovereignty. In nations such as France, the UK, and Denmark, opposition to the EU was often conspiratorial, alleging that European bureaucracy sought to dissolve national identities and impose foreign cultural values (Vasilopoulou 2020).

Many Eastern European nations, whose nationalist identities had been repressed under communist rule, also saw a resurgence in ethnic-based populism during this period. This was most evident in the Balkans, where the breakup of Yugoslavia led to extreme nationalist rhetoric, ethnic cleansing, and violent conflict. Serbian leader Slobodan Milošević’s vision of a “Greater Serbia” was deeply embedded in conspiratorial narratives that framed Serbs as victims of Western manipulation and betrayal (Glenny 1996).

The rise of nationalist populism in post-communist Europe was not confined to Eastern Europe. In Austria, Jörg Haider’s Freedom Party (FPÖ) capitalised on fears surrounding immigration and European integration, positioning itself as a defender of Austrian identity against the forces of globalisation (Wodak 2015). Similarly, in France, Jean-Marie Le Pen’s National Front amplified its anti-immigrant rhetoric, portraying migration from North Africa as a scheme to dilute French culture.

One of the defining intellectual responses to the post-Cold War order was Samuel Huntington’s (1996) The Clash of Civilizations. Contrary to Fukuyama’s optimistic vision, Huntington predicted that ideological conflicts would be succeeded by cultural and religious struggles, particularly between the West and Islam. This thesis became a cornerstone of conspiratorial populism in the 1990s and early 2000s, as numerous right-wing leaders adopted its central premise to justify anti-immigrant policies and nationalist rhetoric. In countries such as the Netherlands, Denmark, and Germany, populist leaders have framed Muslim immigration as a direct threat to Western civilisation, often portraying it as part of a coordinated effort to undermine European values. As I will discuss further in the following chapter, this rhetoric gained significant traction following the 9/11 attacks in 2001, further entrenching Islamophobic conspiracy theories that depicted Muslim migrants as either complicit in or sympathetic to global terrorism (Mudde 2016).

The most violent manifestation of conspiratorial populism occurred in the Balkans during this period. The breakup of Yugoslavia in the 1990s witnessed a surge in extreme nationalist propaganda, much of which was based on conspiracy theories that framed ethnic conflicts as existential struggles orchestrated by foreign powers. Serbian media, for instance, frequently asserted that Western nations were conspiring to weaken Serbia by supporting Bosnian and Croatian independence movements (Judah 2009).

During the Bosnian War (1992–1995), Serbian forces engaged in ethnic cleansing campaigns, justified in part by narratives that depicted Bosnian Muslims as agents of an Islamic conspiracy against Christianity. The Srebrenica massacre in 1995, in which over 8000 Bosnian Muslim men and boys were killed, was driven by this toxic blend of ethnic nationalism and conspiratorial rhetoric (Hoare 2021).

Similar patterns emerged in Croatia and Bosnia, where nationalist leaders used historical grievances and conspiracy theories to justify their acts of violence. The wars in former Yugoslavia demonstrated how deeply conspiratorial populism could fuel real-world violence, a lesson that remains relevant in contemporary politics.

The wave of conspiratorial populism that emerged after the collapse of communism laid the groundwork for many populist movements that define contemporary politics. By shifting from economic grievances to cultural and nationalist concerns, populist leaders built long-lasting political movements that continue to shape electoral outcomes across Europe and beyond.

Key legacies of this period include the institutionalisation of anti-immigrant rhetoric as a mainstream political strategy, the deepening scepticism towards international institutions, especially the EU, the normalisation of cultural and religious conspiracies—particularly those targeting Muslim communities—and the precedent set by nationalist conflicts in the Balkans, which demonstrate how conspiracy theories can escalate into violence.

As some had hoped, the transition from communism to liberal democracy did not end ideological conflict. Instead, it provided fertile ground for new forms of conspiratorial populism that continue to challenge democratic institutions. Understanding these historical roots is crucial for addressing the threats posed by modern-day populist movements as we move into further waves of populism.

5. The 11 September 2001 Terrorist Attacks

The terrorist attacks on 11 September 2001 marked a watershed moment in global politics, reshaping not only security policies, but also political rhetoric. The shock and horror of the attacks fuelled a new wave of conspiratorial populism that sought to frame the crisis through narratives of betrayal, foreign invasion, and elite complicity. While previous waves of conspiratorial populism focused primarily on economic anxieties (as observed in the aftermath of the 1973 Oil Crisis) or the loss of national sovereignty following the collapse of communism, the post-9/11 wave was characterised by the fusion of nationalist populism with civilisational and cultural paranoia.

In this chapter, I examine how 9/11 catalysed a global rise in conspiratorial populism. This period witnessed the emergence of three key themes: (1) the portrayal of Islam and Muslim immigration as existential threats, (2) the erosion of civil liberties under the pretext of national security, and (3) the rise of anti-globalist narratives that accused Western elites of betraying nations.

One of the most significant consequences of 9/11 was the acceleration of the Clash of Civilizations narrative. Huntington (1996) had predicted that following the Cold War, global conflicts would increasingly be framed along cultural and religious lines, with Islam emerging as the primary antagonist to Western liberal democracy. After 9/11, this theory was weaponised by populist leaders and right-wing movements to justify anti-immigrant policies and securitisation measures.

In the immediate aftermath of 9/11, many in the West began to question why Muslims harboured animosity towards the West, leading to sweeping generalisations about Islam as an inherently antagonistic force. Prominent scholars such as Bernard Lewis (2002) provided intellectual frameworks for this perception, arguing that the roots of Muslim rage lay in a deep-seated rejection of Western modernity. This framing was conveniently aligned with the interests of populist politicians seeking to depict their nations as being under siege.

Far-right leaders across Europe, including Jean-Marie Le Pen in France and Jörg Haider in Austria, leveraged these fears to enhance their political influence. Le Pen, for instance, directly linked the attacks to his long-standing rhetoric concerning the perils of unchecked immigration, asserting that France was being “Islamised” by elites who had opened the borders to Muslim migrants. Similar narratives were propagated by the Dutch politician Pim Fortuyn, who presented himself as a guardian of Western liberal values against what he perceived as the “medieval” values of Islam (Cottee 2009).

In the United States, this conspiratorial narrative was amplified by figures such as Pat Buchanan, who portrayed 9/11 as a consequence of the country’s multicultural policies and interventionist foreign strategy. Buchanan and other conservative commentators suggested that mass immigration had made America vulnerable to foreign infiltration. This theme later became central to Donald Trump’s rhetoric surrounding his “Muslim Ban”, when he won the presidential election in 2016.

Another key consequence of 9/11 was the dramatic expansion of state power under the guise of counterterrorism. The USA PATRIOT Act, passed in October 2001, significantly curtailed civil liberties, expanded government surveillance powers, and allowed indefinite detention without trial. This legislation marked a turning point in the erosion of individual rights, with many provisions remaining in effect long after the immediate crisis had passed (Pitt 2011).

Conspiratorial populists from both the right and the left seized upon these developments to argue that 9/11 had been utilised as a pretext for establishing an authoritarian security state. Right-wing groups such as the Tea Party accused the government of leveraging the war on terror to justify mass surveillance and expand federal authority. Meanwhile, left-wing figures like Noam Chomsky (2003) contended that the Bush administration had exploited 9/11 to promote corporate and imperialist interests.

This growing distrust of the state also fuelled an explosion of 9/11-related conspiracy theories, many of which claimed that the attacks had been orchestrated or allowed to occur by the U.S. government. The “9/11 Truth Movement”, led by figures such as David Ray Griffin and Alex Jones, gained significant traction, with theories ranging from controlled demolitions to accusations that the Bush administration had foreknowledge of the attacks (Anonymous). These narratives aligned with pre-existing anti-elite sentiments, further eroding trust in democratic institutions.

The language of “freedom” was paradoxically employed to justify the curtailment of liberties. The Bush administration framed its policies as essential for protecting American liberty, while simultaneously engaging in practices such as mass warrantless surveillance and the indefinite detention of suspects at Guantanamo Bay. This contradiction did not escape critics, who highlighted the Orwellian nature of policies that justified the erosion of rights in the name of defending democracy.

Another defining feature of post-9/11 conspiratorial populism was the emergence of anti-globalist narratives that accused Western elites of deliberately weakening national sovereignty. In the years following the attacks, populist leaders increasingly framed global institutions such as the United Nations, the European Union, and NATO as complicit in the erosion of national security.

This rhetoric was particularly prominent in Europe among right-wing populist parties, such as the UK Independence Party (UKIP) and the Danish People’s Party. These groups contended that liberal elites were more focused on accommodating Muslim migrants than on protecting their citizens. The leader of the populist Danish People’s Party, Pia Kjærsgaard, for instance, asserted that the political establishment was betraying the Danish people by permitting “cultural invaders” to reshape the nation’s identity (Wren 2001).

In the United States, similar narratives emerged within the Republican Party, particularly among neoconservative figures who characterised the war on terror as the struggle for Western survival. The notion that American elites were too weak—or even complicit—in the face of Islamist extremism was a recurring theme in the rhetoric of figures such as Dick Cheney and Donald Rumsfeld. This narrative was later absorbed into Trumpist populism, which depicted the “Deep State” as an adversary working against national interests (Bergmann 2025).

A notably extreme variant of this conspiratorial thinking surfaced in the guise of the “Great Replacement” theory, which suggested that Western elites were deliberately facilitating mass migration to “replace” native populations. This theory, which had been circulating in far-right circles for decades, gained mainstream traction after 9/11, with figures such as Ye’or Bat (2005) and Bruce Bawer (2007) asserting that Europe was on the brink of becoming an Islamic colony.

The terrorist attacks of 11 September 2001 and their aftermath marked the beginning of a new phase of conspiratorial populism, one that combined national security anxieties with cultural and civilisational fears. The portrayal of Islam as an existential threat, the erosion of civil liberties, and the rise of anti-globalist narratives all contributed to a political environment in which conspiracy theories flourished. This period witnessed the normalisation of conspiracy-driven political rhetoric, setting the stage for subsequent populist movements. The post-9/11 era not only redefined the nature of populist discourse, but also laid the groundwork for many of the political dynamics that continue to shape the 21st century.

As we enter the next phase of global politics, understanding the legacy of post-9/11 conspiratorial populism remains essential for analysing contemporary movements. Whether through the ongoing demonisation of Muslim communities, the expansion of the surveillance state, or the persistence of elite betrayal narratives, the themes that emerged in the wake of 9/11 continue to shape populist discourse profoundly.

6. The 2008 International Financial Crisis

The global financial crisis of 2008 marked a turning point in contemporary politics, leading to widespread economic distress and a significant decline in trust towards political and financial institutions. While earlier waves of conspiratorial populism had centred on economic grievances (as observed after the 1973 Oil Crisis) or cultural and national anxieties (as noted after the collapse of communism in 1989 and the 9/11 terrorist attacks in 2001), the post-2008 era witnessed the convergence of these elements into a formidable populist backlash against elites, globalisation, and supranational governance.

This analysis explores how the 2008 financial crisis acted as a catalyst for a new wave of conspiratorial populism. The crisis fuelled deep-seated resentment against financial elites and global institutions, ultimately paving the way for the mainstreaming of conspiratorial populism. The era following the financial collapse saw a transformation in the nature of populist movements. Whereas earlier populists had often been confined to the political fringes, the post-2008 wave saw them move into the mainstream, capturing government positions across the Western world.

The financial crisis of 2008 erupted following the collapse of Lehman Brothers, triggering a global banking crisis and widespread economic recession. This economic downturn resulted in mass unemployment, austerity measures, and substantial public bailouts of financial institutions. Amid this climate of economic hardship, conspiracy theories proliferated, blaming shadowy elites, financial institutions, and international organisations for orchestrating the crisis to enrich themselves at the expense of ordinary citizens.

The financial crisis led to a fundamental shift in public trust. Many citizens, who had previously accepted the legitimacy of the political and economic elites, began to view them as part of a corrupt system designed to safeguard the wealthy. The notion that a small group of financial elites had manipulated the system to their advantage resonated with individuals across the political spectrum, understandably undermining trust in public governance. In the United States, the Tea Party movement arose as a response to government bailouts, depicting the financial rescue packages as evidence of crony capitalism and elite conspiracy (Skocpol and Williamson 2016).

In Europe, the crisis resulted in the radicalisation of both left- and right-wing populist movements. On the left, parties like Greece’s Syriza and Spain’s Podemos portrayed the economic collapse as a consequence of neoliberal conspiracies to ensnare working-class citizens in international finance (Stavrakakis and Katsambekis 2014). On the right, nationalist populists such as Marine Le Pen in France and Nigel Farage in the UK attributed the economic downturn to globalisation, immigration, and supranational institutions like the European Union.

The financial crisis reinforced hostility toward supranational institutions. The European Union (EU) and the International Monetary Fund (IMF) became prime targets of populist conspiracy theories, accused of using the crisis to impose economic policies favouring banks and multinational corporations at the expense of national sovereignty.

In countries such as Greece, where the EU and IMF enforced severe austerity measures in return for bailout packages, populist leaders portrayed the crisis as an act of economic warfare imposed by foreign elites. Alexis Tsipras, the leader of Syriza, repeatedly described the financial rescue agreements as an attempt by international bankers to subjugate Greece (Pappas 2020). Similar sentiments resonated in Italy, Spain, and Portugal, where populist movements depicted economic policies dictated by Brussels and Washington as a form of neocolonial control (Custodi 2021).

In the UK, the financial crisis significantly contributed to the rise of Euroscepticism, ultimately culminating in Brexit. Nigel Farage and the UK Independence Party (UKIP) successfully linked economic grievances to EU membership, arguing that Brussels was an unaccountable bureaucracy that prioritised globalist interests over those of British citizens. The narrative that the EU had failed to protect national economies from financial ruin became a powerful tool for mobilising anti-EU sentiment (Vasilopoulou 2020).

One of the most significant consequences of the post-2008 populist wave was the mainstreaming of nationalist rhetoric. Unlike earlier iterations of right-wing populism, which were often relegated to the fringes, these movements gained substantial electoral success post crisis. In the aftermath of the financial collapse, many traditional political parties lost credibility, allowing nationalist and populist leaders to present themselves as the true defenders of the people.

This period witnessed the emergence of figures such as Viktor Orbán in Hungary, who characterised the economic crisis as proof that globalist elites aimed to undermine national sovereignty. Orbán’s Fidesz party adeptly connected economic grievances with anti-immigration rhetoric, depicting Hungary as a victim of both financial and cultural globalisation (Enyedi 2020).

The mainstreaming of nationalist populism was not limited to Europe. In the United States, Donald Trump’s 2016 campaign capitalised on post-crisis resentment, portraying him as an outsider ready to confront the corrupt political and economic elite. Trump often invoked conspiratorial themes, such as the notion that globalist interests were working against American workers. His rhetoric about “draining the swamp” and opposing international trade agreements resonated with voters who felt neglected by traditional politicians (Oliver and Rahn 2016).

A crucial factor distinguishing the post-2008 wave of conspiratorial populism from earlier variations was the role of digital media. The rise of social media platforms enabled conspiracy theories to spread unprecedentedly, circumventing traditional information gatekeepers. This technological shift allowed populist leaders to communicate directly with their supporters and reinforce narratives of elite manipulation and globalist conspiracy.

Social media platforms like Facebook and Twitter (now X) have become breeding grounds for misinformation, with algorithms amplifying content that generates high engagement. This environment has allowed conspiracy theories, such as QAnon and the Great Replacement, to gain mainstream traction, further radicalising populist discourse (Cosentino 2020).

Social media also facilitated the internationalisation of conspiratorial populist movements. Figures such as Steve Bannon actively worked to build a transnational populist alliance, connecting leaders from different countries under a shared narrative of anti-globalism and nationalist revival. The interconnected nature of online conspiratorial discourses meant that political developments in one country quickly influenced populist movements elsewhere, creating a feedback loop that reinforced and legitimised extreme rhetorics (Ibid).

The financial crisis of 2008 did more than merely destabilise global markets; it fundamentally reshaped political discourse, giving rise to a new wave of conspiratorial populism that continues to influence electoral outcomes today. The crisis provided populist leaders with a compelling narrative: that globalist elites had deliberately engineered economic collapse to consolidate their own power at the expense of ordinary citizens.

By connecting economic grievances to wider cultural and nationalist issues, populist movements have effectively transitioned from the fringes to the mainstream. The vilification of supranational institutions, the decline of trust in democratic governance, and the emergence of social media-driven conspiracy theories have all contributed to the mainstreaming of populist rhetoric.

7. Refugee Crisis of 2015

The 2015 Refugee Crisis marked a critical juncture in the evolution of conspiratorial populism. Unlike previous waves, which were primarily triggered by economic or security concerns (such as the financial collapse of 2008 or the 9/11 terrorist attacks), this wave was uniquely shaped by cultural anxieties and demographic fears. The significant influx of refugees—mainly from Syria, Afghanistan, and North Africa—provided nationalist populists across Europe and North America with fertile ground to frame migration as an existential threat.

This analysis examines how the Refugee Crisis intensified the spread of conspiratorial populism, particularly through the rise of the “Great Replacement” theory. This theory asserts that Western populations are being deliberately replaced by non-European migrants, and gained unprecedented traction during this period. The crisis further legitimised populist leaders, moving them from the political fringes to the mainstream and leading to new forms of political radicalisation (Bergmann 2025).

The “Great Replacement” theory was popularised by French writer Renaut Camus (2011), who, in his book Le Grand Remplacement, argued that European elites deliberately facilitated mass migration to replace native populations. This narrative became central to the discourse of nationalist populist parties across Europe. Leaders such as Marine Le Pen (France), Viktor Orbán (Hungary), and Geert Wilders (Netherlands) integrated it into their platforms, arguing that immigration was a form of “demographic warfare.” Marine Le Pen’s campaign in the 2017 presidential election, for example, centred around the notion that financial elites were conspiring to replace native French citizens with immigrants, a narrative closely linked to the “Great Replacement” conspiracy theory (Onishi 2022).

The Refugee Crisis unfolded against the backdrop of persistent turmoil in the Middle East, most notably the Syrian Civil War. As millions of displaced people sought refuge in Europe, the continent experienced one of the most significant migration waves since World War II. European nations grappled with the daunting task of responding to the crisis, with Germany taking a leading role. Under Chancellor Angela Merkel’s Willkommenskultur policy, the country opened its doors to over one million refugees. In a defining moment, Merkel reassured the nation with the following words: “Wir schaffen das”—“We can do this” (Mushaben 2017).

Nationalist populists seized on these events, portraying the refugee influx as an orchestrated attempt to undermine European civilisation. They argued that the crisis was not simply a humanitarian emergency, but part of a broader conspiracy to dilute national identities. This rhetoric fuelled mass polarisation, transforming debates over immigration into battles over national survival.

A key element of this wave was framing refugees not as victims of war, but as invaders. Right-wing media, social media influencers, and populist politicians repeatedly described migration as a “flood”, “siege”, or “invasion”—metaphors that reinforced the idea of an existential struggle between natives and outsiders. This language echoed earlier forms of populist discourse, but reached new levels of mainstream acceptance during this period (Bergmann 2025).

Geert Wilders, for instance, frequently tweeted about the supposed “Islamisation” of the Netherlands, warning that Dutch culture was being erased. He once posted the following: “We are being replaced. No more”—accompanied by images of Muslim immigrants walking through Amsterdam (Mushaben 2017). Similar rhetoric was used by Alternative for Germany (AfD) leaders, who accused Merkel of betraying the nation by allowing “mass migration” to destroy German identity.

This theory also took root beyond Europe. In the United States, figures such as Tucker Carlson on Fox News began to echo elements of the Great Replacement theory, suggesting that the Democratic Party was deliberately supporting immigration to weaken the political power of U.S.-born Americans (Carlson 2021). This marked the global expansion of the conspiracy theory, demonstrating how the Refugee Crisis had redefined populist rhetoric on a transnational scale.

This wave of conspiratorial populism was distinct in its overt Islamophobia. Unlike previous waves, where economic or political elites were the primary villains, this period saw the construction of a new enemy that simultaneously served as both an external and internal enemy: Muslim migrants.

Several nationalist populists framed the Refugee Crisis as part of a secret Islamist plot to conquer Europe. The frequent terrorist attacks by jihadist groups during this period—such as the Paris attacks in 2015 and the Brussels bombings in 2016—reinforced these fears. Many populists claimed that these attacks were not isolated incidents, but evidence that Muslim migrants were part of a coordinated invasion.

In Austria, Heinz-Christian Strache, leader of the far-right Freedom Party, argued that Europe was facing a demographic crisis due to unchecked Muslim migration (Andrzejewski 2021). In Belgium, Dries Van Langenhove of the Vlaams Belang party declared that “we are being replaced”, further reinforcing the idea that migration was a form of ethnic subjugation.

In the United States, similar narratives emerged. The Trump administration’s 2017 “Muslim Ban” was a direct political response to these fears. Trump himself frequently invoked the notion that immigrants were undermining American culture, famously stating, “They’re not sending their best” (Ramahi 2020). This language reflected European populist rhetoric, illustrating the global resonance of anti-Muslim conspiracies.

A defining characteristic of conspiratorial populism in recent years has been its capacity to radicalise individuals toward violent extremism. One of the most potent narratives fuelling this radicalisation is the so-called Great Replacement theory, which falsely claims that elites are orchestrating mass migration to replace native populations. This conspiracy theory has been explicitly cited as a justification for multiple terrorist attacks.

One of the most notorious examples was the 2011 Norway attacks carried out by Anders Behring Breivik, who killed 77 people, most of them members of the Labour Party’s youth wing, in Oslo and on the island of Utøya. In his manifesto, 2083: A European Declaration of Independence, Breivik repeatedly referenced fears of cultural and demographic replacement, blaming left-wing politicians for enabling immigration and multiculturalism (Berntzen 2019).

Similar ideological motivations were evident in the 2019 Christchurch Mosque shootings in New Zealand, where the perpetrator, who killed 51 worshippers, explicitly cited the Great Replacement theory in his manifesto, entitled ‘The Great Replacement’, demonstrating how such conspiratorial narratives can inspire mass violence (Davey and Ebner 2019).

The same pattern emerged in other attacks. In 2018, the Pittsburgh synagogue shooting was carried out by an extremist who believed that Jewish organisations were orchestrating mass immigration to undermine white majorities. In 2019, the El Paso Walmart shooting targeted Hispanic immigrants, with the gunman referring to the influx of migrants as an “invasion” (Belew 2018). These cases illustrate how the refugee crisis, originally a humanitarian emergency, has been weaponised as a political and ideological battleground with fatal consequences.

A more recent example of this trend is the Örebro shooting in 2025, where a lone gunman attacked a distance learning institution, killing ten immigrants. This incident underscores the continued impact of conspiratorial narratives in fuelling extremist violence across different contexts (Bergmann 2025).

Mainstream political parties have also begun to adopt elements of conspiratorial populism. Although far-right parties initially led this movement, centre–right politicians swiftly followed suit, further steering the political landscape towards nationalism. For instance, in the Netherlands, Prime Minister Mark Rutte, who was typically moderate and later the Secretary General of NATO, embraced more uncompromising rhetoric on immigration to counter the rise of populists like Wilders. His campaign posters in 2017 featured messages such as the following: “Behave normally or leave.” Similar dynamics unfolded in Denmark, where the centre–left Social Democrats adopted stricter immigration policies to attract nationalist voters (Bergmann 2025). This “mainstreaming” of conspiracy theories blurred the lines between fringe and establishment politics, making once-radical ideas a part of everyday discourse.

The Refugee Crisis fundamentally altered the course of conspiratorial populism, providing a framework that continues to shape political discourse today. By merging fears of migration with broader anti-globalist and anti-elite narratives, populist leaders effectively expanded their influence, transitioning from the margins to the centre of power (Wodak 2015).

As the world faces new crises—including the war in Ukraine, the conflict in Gaza, and ongoing tensions over migration—understanding the legacy of the 2015 Refugee Crisis is vital. The capacity of populists to exploit humanitarian disasters for political gain remains a defining characteristic of contemporary politics.

8. COVID-19, Ukraine, and Gaza—A New Wave Rising?

The contemporary political landscape is increasingly shaped by crises that fuel new forms of conspiratorial populism. Following the waves examined in this paper, the 1973 Oil Crisis, post-communist transformations (1989), security fears (9/11), and the financial collapse (2008), a potential fourth wave is emerging. The aftermath of the COVID-19 pandemic marks this wave, alongside the Russian invasion of Ukraine and the war in Gaza. These crises have intensified distrust in global institutions, fostered new conspiratorial narratives, and reinforced populist leaders’ claims of elite manipulation.

This chapter examines how the post-COVID-19 era and geopolitical instability have catalysed the next phase of conspiratorial populism. It highlights three dominant themes: (1) the erosion of trust in public health and democratic governance, (2) the resurgence of nationalist and authoritarian narratives, and (3) the weaponisation of war-related conspiracy theories in domestic and international politics.

The COVID-19 pandemic was a defining global crisis that exacerbated existing tensions between populist leaders and democratic institutions. Unlike previous crises, which often revolved around financial or security concerns, COVID-19 introduced an unprecedented level of government intervention into daily life, including lockdowns, vaccine mandates, and digital surveillance. These measures became a fertile ground for conspiracy theories that questioned the legitimacy of public health responses and framed them as tools of elite control.

The pandemic provided a unique opportunity for populist figures to amplify their conspiratorial rhetoric. Leaders such as Jair Bolsonaro in Brazil, Donald Trump in the United States, and Viktor Orbán in Hungary capitalised on public scepticism, portraying health authorities like the World Health Organisation (WHO) and the Centres for Disease Control and Prevention (CDC) as extensions of a globalist cabal seeking to undermine national sovereignty.

One of the most pervasive conspiracy theories during this period was the belief that COVID-19 was either a hoax or a manufactured bioweapon (Birchall and Knight 2023). Online movements such as QAnon, which had already been active in spreading election fraud conspiracy theories, quickly adapted to pandemic-related narratives, asserting that COVID-19 was a plot orchestrated by elites like Bill Gates and George Soros to implement population control through vaccines. The “Great Reset” theory, which suggested that global elites were exploiting the pandemic to reshape the world economy in favour of technocratic governance, became a key talking point among right-wing populists.

Populist leaders weaponised these fears to resist public health mandates, portraying themselves as defenders of individual liberties against an overreaching state. In the United States, Trump and his allies framed vaccine scepticism as a form of patriotic resistance, while in Europe, far-right parties such as Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) and France’s National Rally mobilised anti-lockdown protests as part of their broader opposition to “globalist” governance.

The effects of COVID-19 were global in nature. In their 2025 discussion paper, “From Conspiracy Theory Movement to Challenger Party”, Fahey and Marcantuoni (2025) examine the emergence of the Japanese political party, Sanseitō, which transitioned from an anti-vaccine movement during the COVID-19 pandemic to a political entity with seats in Japan’s national legislature. The authors analyse how Sanseitō capitalised on the increasing prominence of conspiracy beliefs, particularly anti-globalist and anti-establishment sentiments, to attract support. They highlight the party’s innovative use of digital platforms and alternative media ecosystems to disseminate its message and mobilise members. This case study illustrates the potential for conspiracy theory movements to evolve into political challengers, particularly in contexts where mainstream parties avoid overt engagement with such rhetorics.

The Russian invasion of Ukraine in 2022 marked a significant turning point in international politics, reigniting nationalist sentiments and providing new material for conspiratorial narratives. Populist movements have historically thrived on framing external conflicts as evidence of elite deception and manipulation. The war in Ukraine is no exception, with various factions of the populist spectrum offering divergent yet equally conspiratorial interpretations of the conflict (Bergmann 2025).

In Russia, Vladimir Putin has framed the war as a defensive struggle against Western imperialism, portraying Ukraine as a puppet state controlled by NATO and globalist elites. Russian state media has aggressively promoted narratives suggesting that the United States and its allies engineered the conflict to weaken Russia and expand Western hegemony (Yablokov 2022). This rhetoric echoes earlier Soviet-era propaganda, but has been modernised to appeal to contemporary populist audiences.

In the West, right-wing populist figures such as Tucker Carlson (2021), Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orbán, and factions of the American Republican Party have echoed aspects of Russian propaganda, questioning the legitimacy of Ukraine’s resistance and suggesting that Western support for Kyiv is part of a broader “Deep State” agenda. The notion that the war is being used as a pretext for economic exploitation—particularly through arms deals and energy manipulation—has been widely circulated in online conspiratorial circles.

Meanwhile, left-wing populists have also engaged in conspiracy-laden discourse, albeit from a different perspective. Some factions within the anti-imperialist left argue that the war is a manufactured crisis designed to justify continued NATO expansion and enrich Western military–industrial complexes. Figures such as Glenn Greenwald and Russell Brand have promoted the idea that Ukraine is being used as a proxy for U.S. geopolitical ambitions. This narrative resonates with traditional anti-war movements, but has also been co-opted by right-wing populists.

The war in Gaza, reigniting in 2023, has further fuelled conspiratorial populism, particularly within discourses related to antisemitism, Islamophobia, and anti-globalism. Both pro-Israeli and pro-Palestinian factions have leveraged conspiracy theories to frame the conflict in ways that reinforce populist worldviews.

On the far right, elements of conspiratorial antisemitism have resurfaced, with claims that global Jewish elites are manipulating the war for financial and political gain. This rhetoric aligns with older antisemitic tropes, often blending traditional conspiracy theories with modern concerns about globalisation and financial capitalism. In online spaces, far-right extremists have linked the Gaza conflict to the “Great Replacement” theory, arguing that Western governments prioritise foreign conflicts over their own citizens’ security.

Conversely, within certain leftist populist circles, the war has been framed as evidence of Western hypocrisy and neocolonialism. Some populist leaders and activists assert that U.S. and European elites are deliberately exacerbating the conflict to sustain geopolitical dominance, often depicting Israel as an extension of Western imperial interests. These narratives have heightened polarisation, with conspiracy-laden interpretations overshadowing more nuanced discussions of the conflict’s historical complexities.

The post-COVID-19 era, along with geopolitical instability in Ukraine and Gaza, and perhaps the effect of trade wars initiated by Donald Trump against neighbours, allies, and advocacies, may signify the emergence of a renewed wave of conspiratorial populism. This wave is characterised by a heightened distrust in public health and democratic governance, resulting in a persistent rejection of expert authority. It has also led to the resurgence of nationalist and anti-globalist narratives, which are fuelled by wars that are portrayed as elite manipulations. Consequently, the entrenchment of identity-based conspiracies has occurred, primarily through Islamophobic and antisemitic rhetoric associated with the Refugee Crisis and global conflicts.

9. Conclusions: The Enduring Role of Conspiratorial Populism

This study has demonstrated that the strategic exploitation of conspiracy theories by populist leaders is not merely a recurring feature of political discourse, but a deeply entrenched and evolving phenomenon. Rather than unfolding in discrete, isolated waves, as previously conceptualised, conspiratorial populism has developed in response to a more frequent and overlapping series of crises, forming what I have termed an era of poly-crisis populism. Each successive economic, geopolitical, or cultural crisis has catalysed the resurgence and adaptation of conspiratorial narratives, ensuring their continued relevance in political mobilisation.

From the economic anxieties of the 1973 Oil Crisis to the security fears following the collapse of communism and the 9/11 attacks, and from the financial turmoil of 2008 to the migration crisis of 2015, populist leaders have systematically leveraged instability to advance their agendas. More recently, the COVID-19 pandemic, the war in Ukraine, and the conflict in Gaza have reinforced this pattern, suggesting that we may be on the brink of yet another intensified phase of conspiratorial populism. The return of Donald Trump to power in 2025 further raises questions about how these narratives will evolve in the coming years.

A key insight from this analysis is the three-step rhetorical model that defines how populist leaders integrate conspiracy theories into their discourse. First, they construct an external enemy, whether in the form of globalist elites, financial institutions, Muslim migrants, or shadowy “Deep State” actors, presenting them as existential threats to the “pure people.” Second, they accuse domestic elites of betrayal, portraying governments, the media, and academia as complicit in these alleged conspiracies. Finally, they position themselves as the sole defenders of the people, using crisis rhetoric to justify radical policies and consolidate power. This pattern has remained remarkably consistent across different historical moments, yet it has also evolved in response to shifting political landscapes.

One of the most significant developments in recent decades is the mainstreaming and transnationalisation of conspiratorial populism. While earlier iterations were confined mainly to the political fringes, contemporary populist leaders have embedded conspiracy theories into national political discourses and institutional policymaking. The rise of digital media has further accelerated this process, enabling conspiracy narratives to spread across borders and shape transnational populist movements.

The increasing entrenchment of conspiracy theories in mainstream politics presents profound challenges for democratic governance. The erosion of trust in institutions, the delegitimisation of expertise, and the reinforcement of in-group/out-group mentalities have exacerbated political polarisation, often with destabilising consequences. In some cases, conspiracy theories have directly incited violence, as seen in the Christchurch and El Paso attacks, where perpetrators explicitly referenced the “Great Replacement” theory. Similarly, the “Stop the Steal” movement and the rise of QAnon illustrate how conspiracy-driven populism can undermine electoral legitimacy and democratic stability.

Looking ahead, conspiratorial populism is unlikely to fade, but will continue to mutate in response to emerging crises. In an era of heightened uncertainty—marked by economic volatility, climate change, geopolitical realignments, and migration pressures—populist leaders are poised to exploit new fears and anxieties. As this study has argued, the shift from episodic waves to a persistent cycle of crisis-driven conspiracism requires a rethinking of how we conceptualise the relationship between populism, conspiracy theories, and political instability in the 21st century.