Saturday | 12nd July 2026
The world’s modern populists are increasingly embracing a political strategy that appears to benefit themselves as much as—if not more than—the voters they claim to represent. Rather than allowing scandals or legal troubles to derail their careers, many have learned to transform controversy into evidence supporting one of their central political messages: that a corrupt, self-serving establishment is determined to destroy anyone who challenges its grip on power.
In this political framework, investigations, criminal charges, ethics inquiries, or damaging allegations are not presented as legitimate accountability. Instead, they are portrayed as proof that hidden elites, bureaucrats, judges, mainstream media organizations, and political insiders—often collectively described as the “deep state”—are conspiring to silence anti-establishment voices before they can fundamentally reshape the political system.
Across both Europe and the United States this week, several prominent political figures appeared to follow a strategy that has become closely associated with President Donald Trump: when confronted with damaging allegations, attack the institutions bringing those allegations instead of retreating. The implicit question seemed to be, “What would Trump do?” The answer, increasingly, is to argue that every investigation only proves the establishment fears you.
A Common Script Across the Atlantic
In the United States, former Democratic Senate candidate Graham Platner blamed the collapse of his campaign not primarily on allegations made against him but on what he described as an orchestrated effort by Democratic Party leaders to crush an emerging progressive movement.
Platner withdrew from Maine’s Senate race after facing accusations of sexual assault and dating violence—claims he firmly denies. Rather than portraying his decision as personal accountability, however, he argued that powerful political figures had weaponized the allegations to eliminate a candidate who threatened the existing political order.
Thousands of miles away in Britain, Reform UK leader Nigel Farage adopted remarkably similar rhetoric.
Farage resigned his parliamentary seat amid growing scrutiny over allegations that he failed to properly declare millions of pounds’ worth of gifts and financial benefits received from wealthy supporters. He has denied any wrongdoing and dismissed the controversy as nothing more than another attempt by Britain’s political establishment to destroy him.
Instead of quietly defending himself through official investigations, Farage has embraced confrontation. He is forcing a special by-election in which he hopes voters will effectively put him on trial at the ballot box rather than leaving judgment solely to parliamentary authorities.
The campaign itself has already taken on an unusual character, with one of his most recognizable opponents reportedly campaigning while dressed as a trash can—an image that captures the increasingly theatrical nature of modern populist politics.
France has witnessed perhaps the clearest example of this phenomenon.
Far-right leader Marine Le Pen announced that she still intends to run for president despite her conviction being upheld in a case involving the misuse of European Parliament funds. The court found Le Pen, her National Rally party, and several senior party officials guilty of embezzling millions of euros in public money by paying party employees in France with funds intended for parliamentary assistants.
Le Pen rejects the verdict entirely.
Echoing language frequently used by Trump, she has repeatedly characterized the legal proceedings as a politically motivated “witch hunt,” or chasse aux sorcières, arguing that France’s judicial system has become a political weapon designed to eliminate opposition candidates.
Turning Legal Problems Into Political Strength
Perhaps the most remarkable aspect of contemporary populism is its ability to convert weakness into apparent strength.
Rather than damaging their political standing, investigations and prosecutions often reinforce the image these leaders seek to cultivate. Every indictment, ethics investigation, or court appearance becomes another example—at least in the eyes of supporters—of establishment institutions trying desperately to preserve their own power.
The message is both simple and emotionally compelling: “If the elites are attacking us this fiercely, it must mean we’re threatening them.”
This creates a powerful political feedback loop.
Scandals no longer necessarily undermine populist politicians. Instead, controversies can energize supporters who already distrust governments, courts, mainstream media organizations, and traditional political parties. In some cases, allegations of wrongdoing even enhance a leader’s image as someone willing to break conventional rules in pursuit of change.
Why Populism Continues to Resonate
The success of populist movements cannot simply be dismissed as political theater.
Many of these leaders have tapped into genuine public frustration that has been building for years across Western democracies. Economic inequality, stagnant wages, rising housing costs, globalization, declining industrial employment, immigration, and declining trust in institutions have created fertile ground for anti-establishment politics.
Donald Trump captured this sentiment during his first inaugural address in January 2017.
Standing before many of Washington’s most influential political, military, legal, and business leaders, he declared that ordinary Americans had been ignored while elites prospered.
“For too long, a small group in our nation’s capital has reaped the rewards of government while the people have borne the cost,” Trump said. “Washington flourished—but the people did not share in its wealth.”
That message became one of the defining themes of modern populism.
Whether in America, Britain, France, Italy, Germany, or elsewhere, populist leaders argue that globalization and international economic integration enriched a privileged political class while leaving working-class communities behind.
On the political right, figures such as Trump, Le Pen, and Farage also successfully linked economic anxieties with concerns over immigration, arguing that political elites had ignored public concerns about border security and national identity.
These issues helped fuel movements that mainstream parties often underestimated for years.
Dissatisfaction With Traditional Politics
The resurgence of populism has also been fueled by widespread disappointment with centrist governments.
Across the United States and Europe, many voters believe that traditional political parties repeatedly promise meaningful reform but fail to deliver lasting change once in office.
The Brexit referendum in 2016 represented one of the earliest major victories for this modern populist wave.
Trump’s victory later that year demonstrated that similar anti-establishment appeals could succeed in the United States.
Although momentum appeared to slow following Trump’s defeat in the 2020 presidential election, populist politics has regained strength on both sides of the Atlantic. Vice President JD Vance has emerged as one of its strongest advocates within the United States, while nationalist and populist parties continue gaining support across Europe.
Even on the political left, similar frustrations exist.
Many Democrats continue searching for a successor to independent Senator Bernie Sanders, whose two presidential campaigns energized millions of progressive voters through economic populism despite falling short of winning the Democratic nomination.
Before his campaign collapsed, Graham Platner appeared to some progressives as a younger candidate capable of channeling anti-establishment energy within the Democratic Party. His blue-collar background as an oysterman and Marine Corps veteran contrasted sharply with perceptions that Democratic leadership had become dominated by educated urban elites.
His early campaign suggested there was growing appetite among some Democratic voters for a candidate who spoke more directly to working-class frustrations.
Trump’s Political Blueprint
No contemporary politician has demonstrated the political usefulness of perceived persecution more effectively than Donald Trump.
Throughout the 2024 presidential campaign, Trump faced multiple criminal prosecutions, civil lawsuits, and eventually a criminal conviction in the New York hush-money case.
Rather than allowing these legal troubles to weaken his campaign, he reframed them as attacks not only on himself but on the millions of Americans who supported him.
He argued repeatedly that prosecutors, judges, and political opponents were targeting him because they feared the movement he represented.
The strategy proved politically effective.
Instead of fracturing Republican support, Trump’s legal battles largely unified the party behind him. Rivals who initially hoped Republican voters might seek an alternative found that many supporters viewed the prosecutions as evidence that Trump remained the establishment’s greatest threat.
One of Trump’s most memorable campaign lines captured this idea perfectly.
“I am your retribution,” he told supporters at the Conservative Political Action Conference in 2023.
In doing so, he transformed personal legal jeopardy into a broader political narrative of collective victimhood.
Platner’s Campaign Collapse
Platner attempted to employ a similar strategy.
As allegations mounted, he argued that his campaign had become dangerous to Washington’s entrenched political establishment.
In announcing his withdrawal, Platner insisted that the accusations themselves were not what ended his campaign. Instead, he claimed they were being used by powerful political interests to apply structural pressure against an insurgent movement.
“We live in a political system that is not built for normal people,” Platner argued. “It is a system built structurally to make sure that movements like ours cannot flourish.”
However, critics argue this framing obscures the central reason his campaign collapsed.
His candidacy unraveled after two women publicly accused him of serious misconduct—allegations he categorically denies. While political opponents undoubtedly had an incentive to amplify damaging information, there is little evidence supporting claims of a coordinated conspiracy involving party leaders and the media.
Farage’s Gamble
Nigel Farage is making a similarly risky calculation.
Long regarded as one of Britain’s most influential anti-establishment politicians, Farage has spent decades cultivating the image of an ordinary pub-going patriot standing against detached political elites.
Now facing scrutiny over financial disclosures, he insists he has done nothing wrong.
Rather than focusing solely on legal arguments, Farage is attempting to transform the controversy into a broader battle between ordinary voters and Britain’s governing institutions.
He has described the upcoming by-election as a contest between “the people” and “the establishment,” encouraging supporters to use the vote as an opportunity to reject traditional political elites.
Borrowing language strikingly similar to Trump’s, Farage has framed his own political survival as inseparable from that of his supporters.
“If I win,” he told voters, “you win.”
Le Pen’s Familiar Message
Marine Le Pen is making an almost identical appeal.
She argues that French voters—not judges—should determine her political future.
Like Trump, Le Pen portrays her own legal difficulties as symbolic of a broader struggle between ordinary citizens and state institutions that she claims have repeatedly failed them.
She has argued that both she and many French citizens are enduring hardship created by an unfair political system and that these experiences have only strengthened her resolve.
Le Pen’s political evolution has been years in the making.
After inheriting leadership of the far-right movement founded by her father, Jean-Marie Le Pen, she spent years moderating its public image in an effort to broaden its electoral appeal.
Her next presidential campaign will be her fourth—and many analysts believe it may represent her strongest opportunity yet to capture France’s highest office.
If she succeeds, she could find herself in a position similar to Trump’s, with presidential immunity potentially shielding her from aspects of her continuing legal troubles.
Accountability or Political Shield?
The coming elections in Britain and France will test whether Farage and Le Pen can replicate Trump’s remarkable political resilience.
Both hope voters will conclude that investigations against them reflect establishment panic rather than legitimate accountability.
This raises a broader question about the future of populist politics.
Many of these movements emerged by giving voice to genuine grievances that traditional political parties often failed to address. Millions of voters continue to feel economically insecure, politically ignored, and culturally disconnected from governing elites.
Yet the increasingly common tendency among populist leaders to portray every allegation of misconduct as political persecution creates a troubling paradox.
Movements originally built around holding powerful institutions accountable now risk becoming vehicles for shielding their own leaders from accountability.
Nearly a decade after Trump’s first inaugural address accused Washington’s establishment of protecting itself rather than ordinary citizens, an irony has emerged.
The new generation of populist leaders increasingly faces accusations that they are using the very movements created to defend neglected citizens primarily to defend themselves.
Whether voters continue to embrace that narrative—or begin demanding greater accountability from anti-establishment politicians themselves—may become one of the defining political questions facing Western democracies in the years ahead.