In the foreground this week: arguably the administration’s biggest series of unconstitutional abuses yet.

DHS agents are terrorizing Minneapolis. The administration is attempting to gain political control over the Federal Reserve by criminally investigating its chair, Jerome Powell. The FBI raided a Washington Post reporter’s home. Prosecutors are targeting multiple Democratic members of Congress for their video about illegal orders. Not only is the DOJ protecting the agent who killed Renée Good, but prosecutors are seemingly attempting to deflect scrutiny by criminally investigating Good’s widow (yes, really — this latest abuse led at least six prosecutors in the U.S. Attorney’s office to resign).

Subscribe now

In the background, though, there’s an important wave of developments in the other direction. A series of legislative proposals in capitals from Albany to Washington to Sacramento all seek to do the same thing: stop this abuse by making what is theoretically unconstitutional much more practically preventable. Each would translate the Constitution’s protections on paper to real bulwarks.

Because the truth is, the vast majority of the Trump administration’s abuses are already illegal. That’s not the problem. The problem is that it can be, in practice, difficult for the law alone to stop a government hellbent on breaking it. (Too often, our system relies on a presumption that people in power will simply follow the rules as written.)

In response, all of these proposed bills use the same, elegantly simple legal strategy: Instead of creating new prohibitions on abusive behavior, which could just as easily be ignored, they simply empower Americans with new legal pathways to enforce the rights they are already supposed to have.

Not new rules. New tools.

In that sense, they’re more than just a wave of good ideas. They represent the closest thing we’ve seen yet to a unified theory of how to uphold the Constitution.

The federal strategy: Why the NOPE Act is such a big deal

Yesterday, Sen. Chris Murphy and Rep. Jason Crow (the latter of whom appears to be a current target of DOJ weaponization) introduced the No Political Enemies (NOPE) Act.

This legislation aims to protect all Americans and civil society organizations — nonprofits, faith groups, media outlets, educational institutions, and so on — from politically motivated harassment and prosecution by the federal government. In addition to reaffirming the constitutionally protected right to free speech, it would also establish what’s called an “affirmative defense” (lawyer-speak for a legal trump card, like “self-defense”) and provide additional legal tools for those targeted in politically motivated prosecutions, lawsuits, and censorship.

Moreover, the bill would make it so victims of politicized attacks would be allowed to sue federal officials who violate their constitutional rights.

Read more about the bill and its provisions here.

My colleague Justin Vail, on a press conference for the introduction with Sen. Murphy, Senate Minority Leader Schumer, and Rep. Crow, said:

In a democracy, the president cannot use the vast powers of government to silence critics. The strength of the No Political Enemies Act is that it empowers everyday Americans with new tools to defend themselves against political targeting and hold government officials accountable for attacks on their free speech, regardless of who the president is.

The prospect of accountability is a powerful deterrent against abuse. If it passes, the NOPE Act would help restore some of this balance across the federal government.

The state strategy: The Universal Constitutional Remedies Act

Meanwhile, individual states aren’t waiting for Congress. They’re also taking matters into their own hands.

In her state of the state speech yesterday, New York Governor Kathy Hochul argued:

No one, from the president on down, is above the law. That’s why I will move to have New Yorkers hold ICE agents and others accountable in court when they act outside of their scope of duty. We need accountability.

She was talking about her proposal to introduce a “Universal Constitutional Remedies Act.”

This bill — the idea of which I wrote about last week — essentially closes a loophole, a quirk in our system. Currently, you are explicitly allowed to sue state and local officials for violating your constitutional rights, but not federal officials. There’s not really a logical reason for why Congress and the Supreme Court made the choices that led us here, but here we are nonetheless.

States can close this loophole, on their own, without federal action, because of a subtlety in the Constitution’s Supremacy Clause (the part that says federal law gets precedence over state law).

Here’s the key text, see if you can spot the important bit:

This Constitution, and the Laws of the United States which shall be made in Pursuance thereof… shall be the supreme Law of the Land;

Did you catch it?

Three words, “in Pursuance thereof,” are the crux. Federal law is not inherently supreme; it is only supreme by virtue of the Constitution. And so any action by the federal government that is not constitutional by definition does not supersede state law. State laws, like the Universal Constitutional Remedies Act, that focus exclusively on violations of constitutional rights, can therefore still apply to federal officers. Federal supremacy doesn’t apply.

As my colleague Cameron Kistler testified in Sacramento on Tuesday at the introduction of the California version of the law (Scott Wiener’s SB 747):

The bill stands for a simple proposition: If any governmental officer violates your clearly established constitutional rights, you should have a remedy. That is already the law for California state and local officials. If they violate clearly established constitutional rights, they can be sued under Federal Section 1983. But there is no similar law for federal officials — the bill solves that problem.

The bill passed out of committee 11-2.

Read more: Minnesota — and all states — must close the legal loophole that protects the shooter from accountability

Share

Why all Americans should support stronger tools to enforce constitutional rights

All of these proposals — to strengthen the tools, not the rules — aren’t partisan. Nor should they be particularly controversial. Yes, most of the unconstitutional abuses right now are coming from the Trump administration. But in the future, these sorts of abuses could easily cut the other way.

Just an example, the right-leaning Free Press wrote yesterday about how the administration’s efforts to prosecute progressive nonprofits has alarmed many of the president’s ideological allies:

[T]he zeal to target liberals like Soros has alarmed a growing number of wealthy conservative donors, who believe investigations could spur Democratic officials in a future administration to attack Republicans. In recent private conversations with some of the donors, senior Trump administration officials who work on tax issues have said they understand those concerns and have tried to assure donors that any investigations would be legal and nonpartisan, according to people familiar with the talks. …

“If you weaponize government to serve your own purpose, it’s going to come back to bite you in the butt,” David Williams, president of the Taxpayers Protection Alliance, a right-leaning nonprofit, told me this week. “That’s our concern.”

It’s true. Politicized retaliation is a dangerous and destructive downward spiral.

The best way to prevent it from tearing our country apart is to pass common sense, nonpartisan laws — like the NOPE Act and the Universal Constitutional Remedies Acts — that make it exceedingly difficult for any government actor to violate constitutional rights.

Leading up to Poland’s 2023 elections, it looked like the autocratic Law and Justice party (PiS) had a good chance of holding onto power — perhaps indefinitely. For eight years, PiS aimed to entrench its rule by undermining the country’s courts, media, and other independent institutions. Beginning in 2015, the ruling party presided over the “swiftest democratic decline” in Europe.

But those fighting to reverse the autocratic tide kept going. Despite PiS’s attempts to silence its critics, there was still space for pro-democracy Poles to speak out against the government. And they refused to accept the inevitability of PiS’s power grabs.

Years of mobilization by civil society and the opposition laid the groundwork for a pro-democracy coalition to emerge in the run-up to the 2023 elections. Those opposed to PiS’s overreach organized in defense of democracy.

And they won.

Subscribe now

But restoring democracy hasn’t been easy. Setbacks stemming from years of PiS’s entrenched rule have frustrated those hoping for a total democratic renewal.

The story of Poland’s democratic comeback serves as a reminder that where there’s space for resistance, there’s room to slow autocratic consolidation and reverse the effects of democratic breakdown. And if voters eventually return the pro-democracy coalition to power, its leaders (and supporters) must remain resilient and clear-eyed in their approach. Governing well and addressing the demands of the public insulate against the possibility of an autocratic resurgence. The stakes are too high to get things wrong.

For eight years, PiS aimed to remake Poland’s institutions

After PiS’s victory in the 2015 parliamentary elections, party leaders wasted no time following the playbook that Viktor Orbán had successfully deployed in Hungary five years earlier. The party’s powerful leader, Jarosław Kaczyński, previewed as much when he vowed to create “Budapest in Warsaw” in a nod to PiS’s shared autocratic ambitions.

The PiS government quickly politicized the country’s public media and civil service. Lacking the parliamentary supermajority required to formally rewrite the constitution, PiS officials instead disregarded legal norms and manipulated existing laws to consolidate power.

Perhaps most consequential of PiS’s power grabs was its years-long effort to take over Poland’s courts.

Almost immediately, PiS moved to defang and then co-opt the Constitutional Tribunal, which reviews the constitutionality of legislation enacted by parliament. Frustrated by the prospect of the tribunal slowing PiS’s illiberal agenda, Kaczyński deemed it “the bastion of everything in Poland that is bad.”

Within a month of taking office, PiS moved to dismiss five judges appointed to the tribunal by the previous government in order to replace them with loyalists. When the tribunal issued an injunction to put an end to the ruling party’s lawlessness, both parliament and the PiS-aligned president, Andrzej Duda, ignored the order and pushed through the new judges anyway.

After PiS enacted additional legislation that empowered these newly installed judges, the tribunal again struck down the apparent power grab. But the government simply refused to publish the tribunal’s decision — ushering in an era of rule by law, rather than rule of law.

However, public resistance to the ruling party’s blatant assault on the judiciary grew as civil society groups organized mass demonstrations across the country. And less than two months after PiS’s 2015 election victory, thousands took to the streets of Poland’s capital with a clear message: “This is Warsaw, not Budapest.”

Still, PiS pushed through its autocratic agenda

As the ruling party approached one year in power, it aimed to quash any remaining levers of accountability. The rubber-stamp parliament passed new laws that required the Constitutional Tribunal to assign cases to PiS-appointed judges and guaranteed that a party loyalist would serve as the court’s next president. PiS also weaponized the state apparatus to smear judges appointed by the previous government and undermine the process of judicial review.

Taken together, these maneuvers amounted to a massive consolidation of power.

Still, pro-democracy advocates and civil society groups continued to mobilize against PiS’s overreach and the more controversial parts of its policy agenda.

In October 2016, tens of thousands marched against the government’s proposed total abortion ban. Ultimately, coordinated opposition efforts forced PiS to step back from the legislation — its first major public retreat since taking office. But in typical autocratic fashion, the government also responded with new legislation designed to suppress any future dissent.

Instead of backing down, thousands mobilized to mark the 35th anniversary of martial law in Poland (during which the former communist regime aimed to crush the anti-authoritarian Solidarity movement). In the spirit of Solidarity, Poland’s pro-democracy coalition continued to build a big tent to counter the illiberal PiS government.

Read more: Lessons from the global history of labor movements.

Nonetheless, the government’s attacks on the rule of law accelerated. In 2017, PiS proposed a sweeping restructuring of both the Supreme Court and the National Council of the Judiciary, which effectively forced mandatory retirement for judges appointed by the previous government and put the judicial nomination process under direct PiS control.

Once again, large scale mobilization ensued. In a temporary retreat, President Duda vetoed the retirement law. But the following year, the ruling party enacted a modified version of the same legislation — only to reverse course amid sustained pressure from the country’s growing pro-democracy coalition.

And although PiS secured its majority in parliament’s lower house in the 2019 elections, the ruling party actually lost its majority in the upper house.

Despite the authoritarian party’s omnipresence, small wins notched along the way reminded pro-democracy actors to take advantage of opportunities for building resilience. Because they recognized that those small wins could eventually build toward something bigger.

Continued attacks on the rule of law soon met the strength of a growing pro-democracy movement

Following the 2019 elections, PiS launched new attacks on judicial independence. A “muzzle law” prohibited judges from questioning the ruling party, and new disciplinary procedures were enacted to punish judges who stepped out of line.

But pro-democracy Poles were ready to mobilize. In early 2020, thousands of judges joined the “March of 1,000 Robes,” taking a stand against the ruling party’s power grabs. Civil society groups, law professors, and opposition leaders also played a role in this impressive show of strength, which helped draw attention to PiS’s increasingly authoritarian tactics and highlighted the potential of Poland’s pro-democracy coalition.

Later that year, PiS faced another massive wave of public backlash. When the co-opted Constitutional Tribunal severely restricted reproductive rights, hundreds of thousands took to the streets in Poland’s largest demonstrations since the fall of communism. With its ruling, the captured tribunal helped PiS achieve a long-standing policy goal. But in doing so, it also energized Poland’s burgeoning pro-democracy opposition movement.

For years, PiS officials engaged in a delicate balancing act between consolidating enough power to entrench their rule, while also avoiding the kinds of overreach that could spark major domestic backlash. Autocrats around the world contend with this same dilemma — namely, how to aggrandize their power without crossing a line that could cost them in the long run.

Though the next election was still three years away, the momentum from 2020 laid the foundation for what would become a unified pro-democracy coalition to take on PiS at the ballot box.

The 2023 campaign changed everything

The mass mobilization of civil society in 2020 — combined with a growing political opposition — influenced the pro-democracy Civic Coalition (KO) led by former prime minister Donald Tusk. The big-tent KO brought together parties across the ideological spectrum and was united by one goal: defeating PiS in the 2023 parliamentary elections.

The parties under the KO umbrella made it a point to embrace collaboration, while still holding onto their ideological distinctions that could help attract a broad range of voters. If, for instance, an anti-PiS voter was skeptical of Tusk, they had other options to turn to within the pro-democracy coalition.

Throughout the campaign, Tusk and his allies barnstormed the country, delivering an explicitly pro-democracy message that reached voters disillusioned by the government’s autocratic overreach. And the exposé of a massive corruption scheme involving PiS cronies helped bring more voters into the KO camp during the final weeks of the campaign.

Despite legal efforts by the ruling party to sideline Tusk and his allies, record voter turnout, particularly among women and young people, propelled KO to victory. Following a campaign that was neither free nor fair, the pro-democracy opposition still won enough seats to form a majority coalition government.

As Protect Democracy’s Ian Bassin and Ben Raderstorf wrote at the time, “the pro-democracy coalition won by being a pro-democracy coalition.”

Bottom line: keep going

Since taking office, Tusk’s government has set out to undo almost a decade of democratic backsliding. But turning the tide has come with its own challenges.

Throughout their winning campaign, KO promised to “de-PiSify” the Polish state. Expectations were understandably high.

But here’s the thing: KO didn’t come into office with total power. PiS still held the co-opted judiciary and, even more importantly, the presidency. Under Poland’s parliamentary system, the prime minister functions as the country’s chief executive, but the president still has the power to block (and propose) legislation, which can lead to gridlock when the two offices are held by leaders backed by different parties (as has been the case since 2023).

Though KO has been successful in some areas — like reasserting media independence and removing PiS holdovers from the bureaucracy — undoing the former government’s attacks on the judiciary has yielded more mixed results.

After KO gained power, President Duda (a PiS stalwart) wielded his veto power to block the new government’s reform agenda. He halted legislation aimed at de-politicizing the judiciary by placing it under review by the Constitutional Tribunal itself, effectively torpedoing Tusk’s efforts to restore judicial independence. And without the three-fifths parliamentary majority required to overturn presidential vetoes, Tusk’s coalition has been hamstrung at nearly every turn.

At the same time, the KO government continues to ignore rulings issued by the Constitutional Tribunal, which is made up entirely of judges illegitimately appointed by PiS. And recent court rulings have raised more questions about the 2,500 “neo-judges” installed by the former government, as KO officials continue to propose new judicial reforms.

Tusk and his governing partners have also struggled to liberalize Poland’s strict abortion laws and restore civil liberties that were undermined during the PiS era. As a result, many of the voters who carried the pro-democracy coalition to victory in 2023 have grown disillusioned.

The results of the presidential contest earlier this year reflect those frustrations. The PiS-backed candidate, Karol Nawrocki, was swept into office as many KO voters from 2023 registered their disappointment at the polls. Tusk and his allies now face the prospect of continued gridlock for the remainder of their term in office.

Still, Nawrocki’s narrow victory hasn’t marked the end of Poland’s democratic resurgence. Rather than signaling the public’s preference for PiS’s illiberalism, the presidential election results might have actually highlighted a desire for even greater pro-democracy change. The contest was largely a referendum on KO’s record, and the government failed to mobilize voters who were frustrated with its inability to restore judicial independence and deliver on other key parts of its 2023 policy platform.

In the aftermath of Nawrocki’s win, Anne Applebaum reminded onlookers that creeping authoritarianism “cannot easily be defeated or dismissed in one electoral cycle.”

The story of Poland’s democratic comeback is still being written. Starting in 2015, pro-democracy forces organized, adapted, and mobilized, ultimately building the coalition that defeated the autocratic ruling party in 2023. From civil society organizations to judges and formerly disaffected voters, support for restoring Poland’s democracy grew even as PiS tightened its grip.

Poland is not alone in its democratic U-turn. More than 70% of countries that have experienced democratic breakdown over the past 30 years have ultimately resisted authoritarianism. And over 90% have either restored or improved their democracies following a period of backsliding.

So the fight continues. Similar to many of its counterparts around the world, Poland’s pro-democracy coalition still needs to win over hearts and minds and prepare for the long (and sometimes messy) process to get democracy back on track.

The lesson from Poland is clear: Especially in moments of uncertainty, keep going to protect democracy.

Thank you for reading along as we’ve shared the eight stories in our Democracy Atlas series. If you missed any, here are the eight rules of anti-authoritarianism we’ve laid out over the past few months:

• Rule one: Resist. Then adapt (Hungary)

• Rule two: Be unified. Be visible (Turkey)

• Rule three: Win lawsuits and hearts and minds (Mexico)

• Rule four: Leadership lives in everyone (Cambodia)

• Rule five: Show — don’t tell — how things work and what is trustworthy (Nigeria)

• Rule six: Remember: Autocrats are not invincible. But be careful (Zimbabwe)

• Rule seven: Leave the door open for defectors (Serbia)

• Rule eight: Keep going (Poland)

We’re not quite done yet, though! Next week we’re going to host an open discussion on the series, the lessons, and how to apply all these rules to the U.S. context. I hope you’ll join us for that conversation.

Let us know in the comments whether and how this series has been useful. Like many of the cases we’ve explored, our own democratic story is still being written. Hopefully the shared experiences of pro-democracy voices around the world can help us navigate any uncertainty that still lies ahead.

Share

Nearly a year ago, the roof collapsed at a train station in the Serbian city of Novi Sad. Over a dozen people died.

The tragedy sparked a massive protest movement against the corruption and impunity of the country’s autocratic government — and its personalist leader, President Aleksandar Vučić. In the months since, people from all walks of life have joined the demonstrations, energized by the promise of restoring a more democratic Serbia.

A week before the events in Novi Sad, I happened to be in Serbia for conversations with pro-democracy advocates and scholars on the heightened threat of competitive authoritarianism in the region (and around the world).

In Belgrade, I heard from folks concerned with the rise of would-be autocrats who use the trappings of democratic institutions (like elections) to provide a veil of legitimacy as they consolidate power. Modern-day autocrats, from Putin to Orbán, have used this playbook to entrench their rule — and they’ve successfully exported it to their autocratic counterparts, including Vučić.

Subscribe now

For years, Serbia’s pro-democracy forces had been concerned about creeping authoritarianism under Vučić. Though he initially won power on a reform agenda, his tenure has been defined by a deterioration of the rule of law and proliferation of corruption. And, although his authoritarian impulses have been challenged at various points over the past decade, nothing quite compares to the demonstrations of the past year, which have been among the largest in Serbian history.

Despite increased state crackdowns, those opposed to Vučić’s autocratic rule have managed to broaden their tent by bringing in support from unlikely corners of Serbian society — bolstering their calls for pro-democracy change and reform.

Vučić has used Serbia’s legal system to undermine the political opposition

Since 2012, Serbia’s democracy has steadily eroded under Vučić and his personalist Serbian Progressive Party (SNS). After winning parliamentary and presidential elections that year, Vučić and SNS quickly began consolidating power.

Starting as deputy prime minister, then prime minister, and now as president, Vučić has spun a web across Serbia’s political and media ecosystem, making it difficult for an effective pro-democracy coalition to challenge his rule.

Even before Vučić’s rise, Serbia’s democracy was fragile. After a successful anti-authoritarian movement ousted strongman Slobodan Milošević at the ballot box in 2000, many hoped that democracy would deliver a stronger, more prosperous Serbia in the 21st century. But by the mid-2000s, disillusionment with the country’s political elites (and democracy itself) began to grow.

Then in came Vučić — formerly one of Milošević’s spin doctors — who took advantage of that disillusionment and promised a fresh start with SNS at the helm.

Four years after SNS’s 2012 victory, Vučić had already centralized control over much of Serbia’s politics and media. And by the time he called early snap elections in 2016, it was clear he had no intention of playing fair in order to win. As expected, regional watchdogs found that the elections were held under “unclear rules” and flagged the misuse of state resources by the SNS campaign.

By tilting the electoral playing field, the ruling party held on to its parliamentary majority, giving Vučić the go-ahead to continue his various power grabs.

As the 2017 election approached, Vučić set his sights on the presidency. Throughout the campaign, SNS dominated the public narrative and shut out opposition voices from a fair contest. And on election day, observers reported instances of voter intimidation and pressure on public sector employees to support Vučić at the polls. Still, following his election as president, Vučić claimed a popular mandate to remake the state in his image.

Public outrage grew as Vučić ascended to the presidency, culminating in the weeks-long “Protest Against Dictatorship.” But Vučić rallied his supporters and media allies to dismiss the opposition’s claims of democratic backsliding under his watch. For the new president, delegitimizing any and all sources of opposition became a top priority.

Vučić and his allies orchestrated smear campaigns against potential rivals and civil society groups, flooded the airwaves with pro-government propaganda, and changed electoral rules to stamp out any viable challengers. Since 2017, SNS has routinely manipulated electoral laws to weaken the already fractured opposition.

Like many modern-day autocrats, Vučić craves the illusion of democratic legitimacy. And he works tirelessly to engineer results that shroud the existence of any hint of dissent.

The opposition struggled to harness the energy of mass mobilization

Despite his attempts to stamp out dissent, public mobilization against Vučić’s boundless rule of law violations has continued. In 2018, the “One of Five Million” movement grew into a broader show of dissatisfaction.

The movement’s anti-authoritarian message resonated with elites, but its singular focus on democracy failed to win over large swaths of the public — especially those who had previously supported the ruling party or checked out of politics altogether.

A failed boycott of the 2020 parliamentary election only deepened the public’s disillusionment with democracy, as the opposition was unable to retake the narrative from the ruling party. Voter turnout didn’t drop as much as the opposition anticipated, and SNS emerged even stronger.

By 2023, Vučić had tightened his grip on power. In the snap parliamentary election that year, the political opposition couldn’t keep up with the ruling party’s electoral chicanery. Election monitors reported widespread fraud and a contest dominated by pro-government media coverage. Unsurprisingly, SNS again held its parliamentary majority.

Though the ruling party’s dirty tricks were nothing new, the 2023 election was a “game changer” for Serbian democrats. The unprecedented scale of electoral manipulation was a wake-up call for many in Serbia’s pro-democracy coalition: Vučić and SNS had no plans to relinquish power.

Following the contested election results, demonstrations against the ruling party spread. And a renewed movement toward greater government accountability was brewing just under the surface.

Corruption sparked a new wave of pro-democracy mobilization

After the tragic roof collapse at the Novi Sad train station left 16 dead, a new wave of anti-government protests erupted late last year. Demonstrations calling for greater government transparency quickly grew into a nationwide movement fueled by long-standing anger over Vučić’s disregard for the rule of law and his corrupt, autocratic governance.

Following the roof collapse, government officials shifted blame in all directions, while the engineers working on the station pointed to rushed timelines and shoddy oversight by those managing the project. Meanwhile, Vučić and his allies initially denied any involvement altogether. But his cagey response to questions about the collapse deepened public outrage and followed his strategy of muddying the waters when backed into a corner.

Within days, a student-led protest movement emerged.

For much of Vučić’s tenure, young people were among Serbia’s least politically engaged due to widespread disillusionment. But now they led the charge, rallying under the message: “Corruption Kills.” The clear anti-corruption message resonated across generational lines and initially left SNS flat-footed in its response.

Early on, the demonstrators distanced themselves from formal opposition parties, creating space for those fed up with the entire system (including SNS supporters). And organizers have made it a point to reach those in the ruling party’s rural strongholds. Over the past eleven months, protesters have drawn links between SNS’s endemic corruption and its decade-long assault on democratic institutions and the rule of law. And unlike earlier waves of mobilization that only reached a certain segment of the public, this movement has cast a wider net by focusing on issues with which there is widespread agreement.

Vučić and his cronies are betting that traditional SNS supporters will hold the line. But over the past several months, pensioners, farmers, veterans, state employees, and even judges have joined the hundreds of thousands rallying against corruption and advocating for a stronger democracy. Those who had been checked out of politics for years have now joined in supporting the protests. Even the state-dominated media has been forced to cover the demonstrations (much to Vučić’s dismay), reaching viewers who usually only hear the government’s talking points.

According to recent surveys, support for the demonstrations remains strong. Despite increased intimidation by the government (and brazen attempts to buy the support of young people), the protests have remained focused and inclusive, leaving the door open to all who want to restore and repair Serbia’s democracy.

Though the movement notched several early wins, including the release of classified documents related to the roof collapse and the prime minister’s resignation, the regime has responded with renewed hostility. As Vučić flounders, he’s taken a page out of the authoritarian playbook by casting his growing number of critics as “foreign” agents and extremists.

As one analyst put it: “[T]here is now an articulated bloc made up of students, citizens, the opposition and civil society — which is now relatively equal to the ruling bloc and capable of competing with them in elections.”

In recent months, thousands have continued to mobilize for democratic renewal, with mounting calls for early elections to challenge the autocratic government. Polling shows growing support for an anti-Vučić bloc amid an environment of heightened polarization. But it remains to be seen whether Vučić risks calling an election that he could lose outright, even with the backing of the state apparatus.

Up until this point, Serbia’s pro-democracy leaders have struggled to bring in defectors and the politically disengaged. And while the current protest movement remains strategically removed from the existing political opposition, it might be wise for opposition leaders to acknowledge how their failures helped facilitate Vučić’s rise. This kind of self-reflection would welcome newcomers to the fold and help rebuild trust with those who’ve tuned out of politics since Vučić’s takeover.

Despite increased domestic repression and Vučić’s continued cozying up to autocrats abroad, this pro-democracy movement’s inclusive approach has opened the door for greater public participation — and exposed Vučić as a weak strongman.

Spread the word. It only takes 2 clicks.

When Zimbabwe’s longtime dictator, Robert Mugabe, was pushed out of power in 2017, many hoped a new era of political openness was on the horizon. But his successor, President Emmerson Mnangagwa, hasn’t strayed from Mugabe’s playbook of state repression and disregard for the rule of law.

While the government continues to hold elections, they are far from free and fair, and the ruling party, the Zimbabwe African National Union-Patriotic Front (ZANU-PF), has maintained its grip on power ever since Zimbabwe gained independence in 1980.

But remarkably, pro-democracy Zimbabweans have continued to find ways to stay in the fight and call out their government’s authoritarian abuses.

Subscribe now

Mugabe used intimidation and electoral manipulation to hold onto power

For nearly 40 years, Robert Mugabe served as Zimbabwe’s strongman leader. And his rule only became more authoritarian as the years (and decades) went by.

In typical authoritarian fashion, Mugabe often responded to political challenges or hints of public backlash with heightened intimidation and state violence. After an opposition party coordinated with civil society groups to mount a successful campaign against his attempted constitutional power grab in 2000, Mugabe led a renewed crackdown on his opponents ahead of that year’s elections. The opposition’s newfound strength was accompanied by increased state repression to further insulate the ruling ZANU-PF.

The ruling party also relied heavily on electoral manipulation to shore up its margins throughout the early 2000s. And the environment for political dissent became even more fraught as the ZANU-PF escalated its efforts to silence critics amid a severe economic downturn. But pro-democracy groups still worked to expose how Mugabe rigged the vote — laying the groundwork for those building the case against the authoritarian government.

With the 2008 elections, the opposition managed to pierce the ruling party’s veil of invincibility. Opposition candidate Morgan Tsvangirai claimed a first-round victory over Mugabe in the presidential race (though he ultimately withdrew following threats of violence), and the ZANU-PF lost its majority in parliament’s lower house for the first time since 1980. Under the newly formed Government of National Unity, Tsvangirai became prime minister, while Mugabe retained much of his power as president.

The new power-sharing arrangement elicited cautious optimism from pro-democracy Zimbabweans, who were hopeful that the opposition would have a seat at the table. But, despite efforts to stabilize the government and draft a new constitution, that early optimism faded as Mugabe sidelined Tsvangirai and continued to consolidate power. And attacks on civil society, coupled with a renewed wave of political violence, helped deliver a landslide victory for the ZANU-PF in the 2013 elections — dashing hopes of a democratic opening.

Zimbabwe’s anti-authoritarian forces have persisted

By the 2010s, rampant hyperinflation — which had already reached an estimated 230,000,000 percent (!) — and volatile currency changes exacerbated the public’s economic disillusionment. And while Mugabe and his cronies continued to enrich themselves at the expense of ordinary citizens, an unlikely leader sparked a new movement that provided an opportunity for pro-democracy Zimbabweans to voice their growing discontent with the status quo.

In early 2016, Baptist pastor Evan Mawarire posted a viral video urging viewers “to get involved and cry out” against the ZANU-PF’s corruption and economic mismanagement. Voicing his frustrations while wearing the colors of Zimbabwe’s flag, Mawarire soon became the face of the nascent #ThisFlag movement.

Eventually, the movement evolved into a broader push to hold the government accountable, and more than eight million Zimbabweans participated in a nationwide strike to demonstrate their dissatisfaction — making #ThisFlag one of the most successful protest movements in the country’s history.

Unsurprisingly, Mawarire and other #ThisFlag organizers were persecuted by the ruling party for their bravery. Still, thousands demonstrated in support of the movement’s message of change.

Reflecting on the Mugabe era, Mawarire later recalled, “We stopped talking, we stopped standing up, we stopped being citizens that participate — so the space shrunk and the fear grew.” #ThisFlag broke through that fear, highlighting how every act of resistance has the potential to grow into something bigger.

The pillars of authoritarian stability often appear solid — until they suddenly collapse

In Zimbabwe, a power struggle between then-Vice President Emmerson Mnangagwa and First Lady Grace Mugabe over who would succeed the longtime ruler put the prized pillar of elite cohesion to the test.

Tensions boiled over in November 2017 when the pro-Mnangagwa military seized control of Harare, ultimately leading to Mugabe’s resignation. Facing impeachment by his own party and mounting public demonstrations against his rule, Mugabe’s fall shows just how quickly things can change in seemingly impenetrable authoritarian systems.

But hopes for reform quickly faded under Mugabe’s successor, the military-backed Mnangagwa. Despite early promises of change, state violence and electoral manipulation have persisted under his watch — and some argue that he’s set Zimbabwe on a path toward deepened authoritarianism.

However, those dissatisfied with the government have continued to make their voices heard. In March 2023, a bombshell documentary, “Gold Mafia,” exposed an alleged network of illegal gold smuggling facilitated by regime insiders. Critics pointed out Mnangagwa’s hypocrisy, as he previously promised a “zero tolerance” policy for corruption in his government.

Though the ruling party denied any allegations of wrongdoing, continued public backlash forced the government to announce an investigation into the matter — a tacit acknowledgment of the scandal’s veracity. And the “Gold Mafia” ordeal contributed in part to the ZANU-PF’s weaker-than-expected performance in the August 2023 elections.

But when cornered, autocrats often double down to hold onto power. Over the past few years, Mnangagwa has stacked the courts in his favor and orchestrated increased state crackdowns on civil society. And with help from the state security forces, a ZANU-PF collaborator allegedly infiltrated the leading opposition party and recalled dozens of lawmakers without their knowledge. After the co-opted courts upheld these illegitimate removals, the ZANU-PF was able to regain its parliamentary supermajority — effectively crippling the political opposition from within.

Still, Zimbabwe is a reminder that even the most entrenched authoritarians are susceptible to public backlash when they don’t adequately respond to the needs of the people. While the current regime has grown more sophisticated in its repression, its grip might be more fragile than it seems.

To be sure, dissent in Zimbabwe is extremely risky. And in countries where elections are known to be rigged, pro-democracy forces often look for windows of opportunity outside of formal politics, all while remaining exceedingly careful in their approach.

In regimes like Zimbabwe’s, it’s easy to believe that the autocrat is unbeatable — often a myth promoted by state-controlled media and loyal lawmakers. But even strongmen are sensitive to public opinion. Most autocrats are actually quite insecure, which explains why they go to such extremes to silence those who dare question their popularity and expose their weakness. Their regimes appear strong — until they’re not.

Every autocracy that has fallen began with people believing change was impossible. Though autocrats may appear invincible, their rule is built on insecurity and fear — no match for the strength that comes with democratic hope.

Share this lesson on your social media

Following the 1998 death of Nigeria’s military dictator, Sani Abacha, there was a sudden window of opportunity for Nigerians hoping to restore their country’s democracy. Abacha’s successor, General Abdulsalami Abubakar, promised a swift transition to civilian rule and established a new commission to administer local, state, and national elections.

Despite misgivings over the military’s prominent role in the transition to civilian rule, civil society groups rallied the public and held the outgoing regime to its promises in support of democracy.

And during the twenty five years since the end of military rule, election monitoring groups and other civic organizations have been key to forging Nigeria’s path toward a stronger democracy. But that road hasn’t been easy.

Subscribe now

Pro-democracy civil society groups helped build public trust in Nigeria’s elections

Given the painful legacy of Nigeria’s decades-long military dictatorship, supporters of the country’s democratic transition were understandably wary of the military’s promises to relinquish power and facilitate free elections. And infighting between skeptics of the elite-driven transition and those who reluctantly accepted the military’s role in the process threatened to splinter Nigeria’s nascent pro-democracy coalition.

It was against this backdrop that the Transition Monitoring Group (TMG) — a diverse coalition of over 60 civil society groups — formed to increase public participation in the elections and assuage the concerns of those apprehensive of the military’s continued involvement in the democratic transition.

Crucially, the TMG helped bridge ethnic and regional divides, while also remaining strictly nonpartisan. In the run-up to the new elections, TMG members developed voter education programs to build the public’s understanding of democratic principles like “one person, one vote” and the secret ballot.

The TMG also trained election observers to spot and respond to potential irregularities at the polls, which helped create a nationwide paper trail that was later used for post-election analysis.

As the first presidential contest drew near, the TMG deployed nearly 11,000 election observers across the country — a particularly impressive feat given the condensed election timeline and turbulent political environment of the previous year. And thanks in part to its extensive network of observers, the TMG was able to gather nationally representative data, which helped boost its credibility in the aftermath of the elections.

Despite hopes for a free and fair presidential contest, the TMG’s post-election report documented a number of irregularities at the polls. Though the elections were generally peaceful and free of large-scale violence, international and domestic observers (including former President Jimmy Carter) provided first-hand accounts of ballot box stuffing and inflated voter returns.

While many questioned the election commission’s suspect turnout figures, the TMG and other civil society groups were forthright in showing the public what had actually occurred during the election — flaws and all. Because of its pre-election preparation and noted commitment to accuracy, the TMG’s report carried weight with those in search of ways to improve future contests.

The TMG’s “show, don’t tell” approach to election monitoring paid off, and its much-vaunted public transparency and political neutrality helped build continued trust in its work.

Following that first presidential election in February 1999, the TMG and other pro-democracy groups continued to observe elections and conduct voter education initiatives with the goal of upholding Nigeria’s democratic progress. Eventually, the TMG expanded its footprint to monitor the voter registration process (often marred by fraud). And other groups followed the TMG’s lead and stood up additional election observation efforts in advance of future contests.

But democratization is rarely linear

Civil society groups and election observers continued their work to instill public confidence in Nigeria’s elections throughout the early 2010s — with mixed results. Despite some improvements in technology and new accountability measures, the elections system still faced logistical issues and technical difficulties that damaged its credibility.

This all came to a head when, in a sign of organizational disarray (and potential malfeasance by the incumbent government), the election commission abruptly postponed the February 2019 elections hours before polls were set to open.

Leading up to election day, observers reported that many voting sites lacked proper election materials — while also noting that more incumbent-friendly states had already received the necessary materials and were prepared for the vote.

After election observation groups threatened to expose these irregularities, the election commission rescheduled the elections for the following week. But some polling places were still unprepared come the rescheduled election day, frustrating voters and further damaging the commission’s reputation.

Though the system also faced a number of other pre-election challenges, including budget shortfalls and violence, the commission’s failure to “communicate sufficiently with political parties and the public about election preparations” dealt the biggest setback to public trust.

Even though some election officials eventually owned up to their mistakes, the clear lack of transparency leading up to election day undermined trust in the commission’s ability to manage free and fair elections.

Pro-democracy leaders successfully advocated for reforms ahead of the next elections. In response to civil society’s calls for greater transparency, the election commission introduced new biometric voter identification software and an online results portal to improve trust in the reporting system. And new protections for the voter accreditation system were included as part of the 2022 Electoral Act with the aim of restoring the commission's credibility.

Still, the political opposition, civil society, and independent observers remained vigilant in their monitoring and publicizing election misconduct. During the 2023 elections, monitoring groups reported on the late arrival of election officials to polling sites, as well as “glitches” in the new accreditation process amid an environment of heightened voter intimidation.

The election commission also went back on its pre-election promise to publish results via its online portal as soon as votes came in, eroding confidence in the election night returns. Civil society groups once again tried to fill the void and provide the public with timely and independent information following the election.

The commission’s continued lack of transparency and “widespread disorganization,” coupled with its alleged bias toward the incumbent government, fueled public dissatisfaction with the elections system. Again, the commission failed to bring voters behind the curtain and show them how the system actually worked.

But through it all, pro-democracy civil society organizations have helped Nigeria write an impressive story of democratic resilience following decades of military dictatorship. To be sure, Nigeria’s democracy faces a host of challenges — including endemic corruption, discrimination, and extrajudicial violence — that exist beyond the elections system. But Nigeria’s election monitoring groups have helped sustain civilian rule by promoting public accountability and openness.

Today, Nigeria’s elections system, though battered, still stands — because the people and groups fighting for its survival continue to show their commitment to transparency and accuracy in the pursuit of democratic progress.

We would love your help spreading the word on these lessons. We’ve taken the liberty of drafting a few social media post suggestions, or you can write your own — it takes two clicks to share.

Share with two clicks

For those living under the cruelty of authoritarian rule, the promise of democracy offers hope for a fairer and more just future. But building democratic institutions, especially in the shadow of an entrenched leader or party, requires great resilience from those fighting for change. And in countries where speaking out against the government is met with threats of retribution or other repercussions, it’s often ordinary citizens who are most likely to become unexpected leaders in the struggle for democracy.

Subscribe now

In Cambodia, courageous leaders from all walks of life — inside and outside of politics — have taken a stand in the pursuit of pluralism and individual liberties, even as they face enormous risks in doing so.

Following years of warfare and authoritarian rule, hopes of a democratic renewal spread across Cambodia in the wake of the 1991 Paris Peace Agreements, which ushered in a United Nations peacekeeping mission to hold free elections. While over four million Cambodians cast a ballot in the country’s inaugural 1993 general elections, the contest was marred by violence and intimidation perpetrated by the Cambodian People’s Party (CPP), led by then-Prime Minister Hun Sen.

Still, there was a sense of optimism that the elections would help bolster Cambodia’s transition to democracy. But the country’s fragile coalition government collapsed in 1997 after Hun Sen orchestrated a coup to oust his governing partner and sideline his political opponents. From that point forward, Hun Sen consolidated nearly total political power — and the CPP has been in charge ever since.

Although the CPP continues to hold elections, they haven’t been truly competitive since the early 2000s. And democracy isn’t just about whether elections are held. It’s about how they’re held — and whether there exists an open and robust civic space to protect the rule of law over the whims of a single leader or political force.

Since 2008, each subsequent election in Cambodia has taken place under increasingly repressive conditions. By 2018, Hun Sen had effectively established one-party rule in the hands of the CPP. And in 2023, the longtime ruler transferred power to his son, now-Prime Minister Hun Manet, underscoring the regime’s turn toward unabashed authoritarianism.

Today, opposing the CPP (or engaging in any kind of activism) carries real danger. The government uses repressive laws and state violence to deny basic rights and persecute political and civic leaders. And the legacy of the Khmer Rouge’s reign of terror, including a genocide that killed millions under totalitarian dictator Pol Pot, remains a powerful deterrent to civic engagement.

Fear, understandably, runs deep.

Authoritarians thrive when citizens remain passive in the face of repression, so every act of resistance and solidarity reminds others (and the world) that pro-democracy efforts are still possible. And despite the clear risks associated with taking action, some Cambodians have continued pushing back for a more open society.

Share

Cambodia’s political opposition has tried to fight back, but faces increased repression from the authoritarian ruling party

Even in authoritarian contexts, opposition political parties and their leaders can sometimes use their platforms to help spark and sustain pro-democracy movements. When governments try to instill fear, brave political leaders have the opportunity to send a message that it’s still possible to stand up to the autocratic government.

In Cambodia, pro-democracy politicians have faced violence and other threats for speaking out against the CPP’s growing authoritarian impulses.

To prevent vote splitting ahead of the 2013 general elections, Cambodia’s two largest pro-democracy parties unified to form the Cambodia National Rescue Party (CNRP). The CNRP ran on restoring the rule of law and ensuring free and fair elections — in a direct contrast to the CPP’s tightening grip on power.

On election day, the CNRP made unprecedented gains while the ruling CPP received its lowest share of parliamentary seats in over a decade. The CNRP’s clear pro-democracy message, combined with its economy-focused policy platform, resonated with millions of Cambodians frustrated by the CPP’s entrenched rule.

Still, the ruling party claimed victory amid widespread allegations of irregularities at the polls. In the aftermath of the elections, opposition leader Sam Rainsy called for an independent review of the vote, and U.S. officials joined in condemning the CPP’s lack of transparency.

In the months that followed, anti-government demonstrations spread, fueled by anger over Cambodia's backsliding democracy and the stagnating economy under CPP rule. Rainsy, along with his fellow CNRP leader, Kem Sokha, joined thousands of protesters in decrying the country’s “facade of democracy” and demanding a clean election. Though the protests eventually fizzled after the government deployed violence against demonstrators, opposition leaders continued to speak out.

In the 2017 local commune elections (typically a bellwether for national contests), the CNRP once again made impressive gains in spite of the repressive environment for the political opposition. Across Cambodia, voters made it clear that they were ready for change.

But the ruling party — fearful of losing its hold on power — responded with new attacks on the opposition in the run-up to the 2018 general elections. Ahead of the vote, the CPP relied on the co-opted legal system to dismantle the CNRP. Authorities arrested opposition leader Kem Sokha, and the CPP-controlled Supreme Court later dissolved the CNRP altogether. The court’s decision marked “the end of true democracy in Cambodia” and sent a chilling message to anyone hoping to build an anti-authoritarian political movement.

With the CNRP officially out of the way, Hun Sen and his ruling party essentially ran unopposed in 2018.

And yet, the pro-democracy political opposition refused to disappear. After the CNRP’s dissolution, the Candlelight Party became Cambodia’s primary opposition party, bringing together former CNRP members and others fed up with the regime.

Again, the political opposition made some surprising gains in the 2022 local elections. Though the ruling party still finished ahead, the government responded to the resurgent opposition by barring the Candlelight Party from participating in the 2023 general elections — clearing the way for Hun Sen’s undemocratic transfer of power to his son, Hun Manet.

Even as Cambodia's pro-democracy politicians operated on an uneven electoral playing field, their continued efforts signaled to the public that some level of democratic resistance remained possible. And the government’s relentless attacks only emphasized its own insecurity. After all, if the ruling party was truly as popular as it claimed, why would it feel the need to destroy all forms of political opposition?

That’s the paradox confounding authoritarians around the globe: The more they tighten their grip to appear strong, the more they reveal just how weak (and afraid) they actually are.

Leadership isn’t confined to the political sphere — it can stem from anyone working to make a change

In Cambodia, unexpected leaders from a wide variety of backgrounds have stepped forward to fight for change.

Whether or not their efforts are directly related to politics, Cambodia’s civic leaders embody the virtues of active and engaged citizens — a hallmark of democracy that stands in contrast to the passivity encouraged (and often enforced) by authoritarian regimes.

Workers and union leaders have continued to play a role in public mobilization efforts. Garment workers were at the heart of anti-government demonstrations in Phnom Penh following the flawed 2013 elections, as they marched for higher wages and stood in solidarity with those protesting the ruling party’s electoral manipulation.

When Cambodia's largest casino laid off over 1,000 employees in 2021, a workers’ strike erupted amid charges of wrongful termination. Through active mobilization led by union leader, Chhim Sithar, the casino workers brought national attention to the firings — exemplifying the potential of courageous leadership in the face of continued repression. And following the government’s arrest of Chhim Sithar and her subsequent release from prison last year, the workers have continued to resist the state’s intimidation campaign.

Other civic leaders have emerged from environmental and land rights groups challenging the government’s corrupt development projects.

Mother Nature Cambodia (MNC), an award-winning youth-led environmental movement, has successfully halted environmentally ruinous construction while also drawing a link between its advocacy and the broader fight for Cambodian democracy. Over the past several years, MNC’s young leaders have remained “relentless” amid increased state repression — including a series of arbitrary arrests intended to “muzzle criticism of governmental policies.”

The government’s controversial land grabs (typically carried out to reward CPP cronies) have also spurred significant resistance. Tep Vanny, a homemaker-turned-activist, launched the Boeung Kak Lake movement to push back against the government’s corrupt takeover of a neighborhood near Phnom Penh. Highlighting the unexpected profile of the movement’s leaders, The Economist described the group as a “band of 13 women — a dowdy lot of impoverished middle-aged mothers, homemakers, and a grandmother,” who used nonviolent sit-ins and protest songs to fight the eviction of longtime residents.

Despite the government’s increased crackdowns — including bogus charges brought against Tep Vanny — the movement is credited with curbing the CPP’s overreaching land grabs over the past decade. The Boeung Kak Lake activists also brought greater scrutiny to the ruling party’s corruption, itself a byproduct of mounting authoritarianism.

Together, Cambodia’s civic leaders highlight the role of ordinary citizens in demonstrating acts of democratic resistance, no matter the scale or scope.

But even leaders outside the political realm pose a threat in the often-paranoid minds of autocrats, so it’s crucial that they receive protection and ample resources to remain resilient. To that end, Cambodian advocacy networks have stepped up their efforts to offer legal and technical support to activists and their organizations in the fight to preserve Cambodia’s ever-shrinking civic space.

After decades of the CPP’s authoritarian rule, everyday Cambodians have grown exhausted with their government. But pro-democracy leaders — both inside and outside of the traditional political arena — continue to advocate for a more open Cambodia. In recent years, members of Cambodia’s diaspora communities have played an increased role in advancing pro-democracy efforts, even as they face rising threats of transnational repression (another common tactic of insecure autocrats around the world).

Regardless of any immediate outcomes, each act of resistance makes a difference in the struggle against tyranny. In authoritarian systems where the government might seem all-powerful, even modest actions can forge the foundation for greater change. And eventually, small acts of courage by unexpected leaders may help create the conditions that build toward the restoration of Cambodia’s democracy.

We would love your help spreading the word on these lessons. We’ve taken the liberty of drafting a few social media post suggestions, or you can write your own — it takes two clicks to share.

Share with two clicks

Beginning in 2018, Mexico’s democracy steadily declined as then-President Andrés Manuel López Obrador (commonly referred to as AMLO) and his personalist National Regeneration Movement (Morena) party pursued various power grabs to advance their populist policy agenda.

Share

Mexico is not alone. The rise of populist leaders — on both the left and right — continues to vex those hoping to reverse years of global democratic backsliding. Many of today’s elected autocrats first came to power on populist platforms, framing politics as an existential battle between “us versus them.” And while populism on its own isn’t always a driver of democratic breakdown, its trappings can be used to lay the groundwork for future power grabs.

To push through his agenda, AMLO shattered norms and expanded executive power

After falling short in the 2006 and 2012 elections, AMLO won big in Mexico's 2018 presidential contest. He rallied voters with a populist platform promising to root out corruption and reduce economic inequality, resonating with millions disillusioned with the political establishment — all while positioning himself as a revolutionary change agent.

For much of the 20th century, Mexico functioned as a one-party state under the Institutional Revolutionary Party, and competitive multiparty elections only emerged after a wave of reforms culminated in the historic 2000 election of an opposition presidential candidate. Despite hopes that this electoral milestone would fortify the rule of law and deliver institutional stability, political gridlock and persistent corruption throughout the 2000s left many disillusioned with the promise of democracy.

By 2018, continued economic turmoil and weakened state capacity fueled public frustration with the established political parties in power since the transition to democracy — setting the stage for AMLO’s ascent to the presidency.

Once in office, AMLO introduced sweeping constitutional and legislative changes that asserted greater presidential control over the electoral system, judiciary, and security forces. With the support of loyal Morena lawmakers, he aimed to pack the courts, deplete oversight agency budgets, and sideline civil society. Emboldened by popular support (and his own myth-making), AMLO cast himself as the true voice of the people, dismissing democratic norms as roadblocks in the way of his agenda.

Still, civil society groups and opposition leaders continued to challenge AMLO’s power grabs in court. Though some legal efforts successfully threw sand in the gears, AMLO often prevailed in the court of public opinion. And with last year’s election of his hand-picked successor, President Claudia Sheinbaum, AMLO’s legacy of executive aggrandizement is poised to continue — providing a cautionary tale for those around the world expecting the legal system alone to defend democracy.

The pro-democracy opposition turned to the legal system to slow AMLO’s consolidation of power, with mixed results

Pro-democracy forces hoped the legal system would provide a first line of defense against AMLO’s executive overreach. Though some courts refused to intervene, others helped stall his most egregious power grabs — often through cases coordinated by the political opposition, civil society groups, and the country’s remaining government watchdogs.

One of AMLO’s main targets was the National Electoral Institute (INE), Mexico’s independent electoral management body. Even though the INE had broad public support, AMLO’s grievances (stemming from his previous electoral losses) drove his efforts to quash its independence.

After an AMLO-backed 2022 constitutional overhaul of the INE failed in Congress, his Morena allies went back to the drawing board and concocted a similar legislative package that didn’t require a two-thirds majority to pass. The revised package sailed through Congress and similarly undermined the INE by slashing its budget and personnel, placing it under increased executive branch control.

In response, the INE — supported by civil society and the opposition — challenged Morena’s new election law in court, citing procedural violations. Indeed, Morena lawmakers had disregarded the normal rules of the legislative process to rush through their electoral changes. As hundreds of thousands mobilized in support of the INE, the Supreme Court struck down the legislative package because it was passed under a flawed procedure. The decision was a major win for the pro-democracy coalition, keeping the INE’s independence intact and highlighting the power of the legal system (when paired with public support) for defending against executive overreach.

Other legal challenges to slow AMLO’s consolidation of power yielded more mixed results.

Despite previously opposing the increased militarization of Mexican society, AMLO established the Guardia Nacional (initially as an explicitly civilian police force) in 2019. Although he claimed the Guardia would remain a civilian force removed from the military apparatus, he later pushed legislation that approved handing control of the Guardia to the Secretariat of National Defense — effectively placing it under greater military influence.

A coalition of pro-democracy civil society groups promptly organized a legal challenge to this military takeover of the Guardia, filing 72 appeals across the country. And after a district court judge halted the Morena-backed legislation from taking effect, Mexico’s Supreme Court ruled that the transfer of the Guardia to the military was unconstitutional, dealing a “brutal blow” to AMLO’s agenda.

But AMLO ignored the court’s order, hoping that a landslide Morena victory in the 2024 elections would buy him time to get his desired changes across the finish line. His run-out-the-clock approach paid off, as Morena’s newly elected congressional supermajority pushed through a constitutional amendment that placed the Guardia under military control during AMLO’s final week in office. Though the opposition initially won the court battle over the Guardia, AMLO still won the war, in large part because his party had won over more voters. And following in her predecessor’s footsteps, President Sheinbaum has also advanced new legislation aimed at consolidating the military’s control over the Guardia.

A similar story unfolded within the judiciary itself. In 2021, Morena lawmakers passed a judicial “reform” bill — including a last-minute amendment to extend the term of Supreme Court President (and AMLO ally) Arturo Zaldívar, in violation of constitutional term limits. Amid public backlash, the Supreme Court unanimously struck down the amendment later that year. But in 2023, Zaldívar retired early to join the Sheinbaum campaign, giving AMLO another judicial appointment to fill before the end of his term.

In one of his final acts as president, AMLO pushed through another constitutional overhaul that introduced direct elections for every judge in the country, making judges more responsive to political whims and clearing the way for Morena to co-opt the judiciary and entrench its power without pushback from the courts. And earlier this year, President Sheinbaum carried out AMLO’s agenda as Mexico held its first-ever nationwide judicial elections. Amid dismal voter turnout and other irregularities on election day, Morena successfully consolidated its control over the judiciary, cementing AMLO’s legacy of executive aggrandizement and potentially putting Mexico back on a path toward one-party rule.

To be sure, legal efforts sometimes slowed AMLO’s power grabs. However, his charismatic leadership and brand of personalist populism helped him consolidate power and maintain public support, even when faced with legal setbacks.

Opposition forces have failed to win the narrative — and the public’s imagination

AMLO’s ability to singularly define the political narrative was years in the making.

Following the 2006 presidential contest, which he lost, AMLO declared himself the “legitimate president of Mexico,” whipping his supporters into a frenzy and instigating protests against the election outcome. And though he lost by an even wider margin in the 2012 race, he continued to rally his supporters and challenge the results. Despite two electoral losses, AMLO mastered the public narrative by playing to his base and taking up the role of a “shadow president” during his decade-long bid at a political comeback, relentlessly criticizing the incumbent leaders and solidifying his position as an opposition powerhouse.

Along the way, he cultivated an image as a populist outsider, which helped him build a political cult of personality. And in the run-up to 2018, he kept himself in the spotlight by reaching out to voters disillusioned with the mainstream political parties.

When he eventually won the presidency in 2018, AMLO successfully took his message directly to the people and strengthened his populist bona fides, propelling his campaign to an overwhelming victory.

Perhaps no tactic exemplified AMLO’s communication strategy while in office more than his daily press briefings, known as “las mañaneras.” Starting on the first day of his presidency, he used these daily conferences to tee up his agenda, attack critics, and present himself as the voice of the people (while also supplying supporters with AMLO-approved talking points). Through his media omnipresence, AMLO gave himself a starring role in every conversation in public life, forging a deep bond with his supporters and steamrolling dissenting voices.

But AMLO’s success wasn’t rooted only in his charismatic leadership. His government delivered tangible benefits to the people, including minimum wage hikes and labor reforms that drove record increases in per capita income. For large swaths of the public, AMLO was a “symbol of democratic governance,” even as he launched attacks on independent institutions and the democratic rule of law.

AMLO’s mixed legacy reveals nuances for those looking to defend “democracy” more broadly.

While millions of Mexicans viewed AMLO’s populist record and anti-poverty policies as fundamentally democratic (meeting legitimate and popular grievances), his agenda was buoyed by measures that degraded other facets of democracy. In addition to delivering tangible benefits to the people, true democracy also guarantees individual liberties and established rules of the game that are supposed to exist well beyond the reach of any one leader — regardless of whether or not said leader claims an electoral majority or “mandate.”

Two things can be true: AMLO improved the lives of many of his supporters while simultaneously eroding Mexico’s democracy. This reality requires a clear-eyed response from those fighting to uphold democracy around the world. While legal challenges and institutional checks may slow democratic breakdown, they’re not enough to win on their own.

Supporters of democracy must offer a compelling vision to compete with the lure of autocratic populism. Because democracy cannot be defended — or restored — if only the autocrat captures the hearts and minds of the people.

Since coming to power as prime minister after the 2002 parliamentary elections, Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has steadily centralized control over Turkey’s judiciary, bureaucracy, and media. Though many initially praised the perceived pragmatism of his first term (2003–2007), that optimism soon faded, especially after he became president in 2014 and intensified his power grabs following an attempted coup against him in 2016. As a pioneer of autocratic legalism — “the use and abuse of law to suppress dissent and undermine opponents” — Erdoğan has also centralized control over Turkey’s elections, employing new manipulation tactics to maintain his grip on power.

Share

The longer Erdoğan and his party, the Justice and Development Party (AKP), have ruled (now 22 years and counting), the more repressive they’ve become. Yet Turkey’s tradition of competitive multiparty elections and its resilient civil society have persisted, even under Erdoğan’s mounting authoritarianism. Despite the AKP’s relentless efforts to tilt the playing field, the pro-democracy opposition has still managed to unify, innovate, and grow its support base over the past five years — and make the AKP less popular in the process.

Opposition parties continue to represent a broad cross-section of society, preserving Turkey’s pluralism against a backdrop of heightened political polarization. And recent elections show that the opposition can still notch victories along the way, even as Erdoğan stacks the deck against his rivals.

For over a decade, Erdoğan succeeded in dividing the opposition

Erdoğan’s consolidation of power has taken many forms, but his takeover accelerated after he became president in 2014 — and again when he pushed through a referendum that created a new super-presidential system in 2017. Since then, pro-democracy forces have had to navigate an increasingly closed civic space and a government adept at exploiting societal divisions.

Progress for the pro-democracy opposition has been uneven, marked by both breakthroughs and setbacks. Indeed, Erdoğan is a deft political tactician with a knack for taking advantage of his opponents’ weaknesses. After Erdoğan’s initial win in 2002, his party consistently grew more powerful over the next decade, peaking in 2011. Meanwhile, the opposition remained split between various left, right, and pro-Kurdish parties, making it easier for Erdoğan to squeak by without winning an outright majority.

Still, the pro-democracy opposition kept at it. Following mass protests and a government corruption scandal, Erdoğan lost his parliamentary majority in the June 2015 elections. The results rattled Erdoğan, who had hoped to use an election victory to legitimize his push for a new presidential system. But by making the race a referendum on himself, Erdoğan “undercut the effectiveness of the AKP message to voters while allowing the opposition to coalesce around a single goal of blocking [his] ambitions.”

His vision of amassing even greater executive control was temporarily put on hold.

Almost immediately, speculation of a re-do election swirled. Erdoğan and his allies, used to ruling alone, weren’t prepared to take part in a governing coalition. And just over two months after the June vote, Erdoğan called for new elections. Thanks to an unfair playing field, muted opposition campaigning, and the AKP’s successful outreach to far-right voters, Erdoğan regained his parliamentary majority in the November 2015 rerun elections. But the lengths to which Erdoğan had to go to receive just under 50 percent of the vote highlighted the ruling party’s growing vulnerability.

Since 2018, a more unified approach has given hope to Turkey’s pro-democracy opposition

Despite major setbacks — from the disappointing November 2015 election results to a 2017 constitutional referendum that gutted the separation of powers — Turkey’s pro-democracy opposition has learned to adapt. Since 2018, new alliances and coalitions between ideologically diverse opposition parties have built the foundation for a more unified front against Erdoğan.

A key turning point came several months before the June 2018 parliamentary elections when the AKP passed a new law allowing parties to make formal electoral alliances. Though it was designed to benefit Erdoğan’s coalition (taking a page from Viktor Orbán’s playbook), the new law backfired. The opposition took advantage of a provision that would help smaller parties enter parliament, and for the first time, coordinated against Erdoğan and the AKP.

A month before the 2018 elections, four very different parties — ranging from left to right — formed the Nation Alliance to minimize vote-splitting and maximize the opposition’s parliamentary gains. Previously, Erdoğan had benefitted from a fractured political opposition. But for the first time, this new pro-democracy alliance leveraged the government’s electoral laws to its own advantage.

Though the AKP alliance ultimately finished ahead, the Nation Alliance made parliamentary gains and energized millions of pro-democracy voters, proving that strategic collaboration could put a dent in the ruling party’s hold on power (even when dealing with an uneven playing field).

The next breakthrough came with the March 2019 local elections, when the AKP lost mayoral races in Istanbul and Ankara. In Istanbul, the charismatic Ekrem İmamoğlu pulled off a surprising victory in the mayoral contest, prompting Erdoğan and his co-opted electoral board to nullify the results and order a new election. But in the June rerun, İmamoğlu won a decisive victory, debunking the myth of the AKP’s invincibility. Informal alliances and tactical support among rival opposition parties were both crucial for notching these pro-democracy wins.

Increased opposition unity in 2018 and 2019 set the stage for the 2023 elections, as the pro-democracy alliance expanded to include former AKP allies. In the presidential contest, the opposition forced Erdoğan into the first runoff of his career. Even though the longtime ruler came out on top, Erdoğan had to put up a fight to win a narrower victory than in past contests.

Meanwhile, the pro-democracy alliance gained seats and held the AKP to just 35 percent of the vote in the 2023 parliamentary elections. Again, the ruling party’s unfair campaign (marked by its control over the country’s media and continued persecution of opposition politicians) made it difficult for the opposition to win over skeptical voters. And even though the opposition had unified, its elite-driven approach struggled to produce a positive narrative of change that could broaden its tent.

Despite the opposition’s shortcomings, the 2023 campaign laid the groundwork for future pro-democracy collaboration, especially as Erdoğan’s popularity has continued to sink. In the 2024 local elections, the opposition bounced back — holding onto Istanbul and Ankara while trouncing the AKP in 15 other races across the country. Adapting from previous losses, the opposition focused more on voters’ day-to-day concerns, which resonated with a larger share of the electorate. While still amplifying the threats of Erdoğan’s autocratic governance, the opposition also embraced local coalition-building to broadcast its message instead of relying only on top-down guidance from party elites.

Harnessing voter dissatisfaction with the status quo can break through slanted elections

Especially in these recent elections, the pro-democracy opposition has found the secret for breaking through a deeply unfair playing field: tapping into deep voter disillusionment with the economic status quo.

Turkey’s economic outlook has deteriorated since the mid-2010s, just as Erdoğan’s executive aggrandizement started to spook investors and degrade consumer confidence. Beginning in 2018, Erdoğan’s obsession with low interest rates — dubbed “Erdoğanomics” — plunged the country deeper into economic despair. In response, he doubled down on his inflationary agenda, firing three central bank governors and the head of Turkey’s statistics agency for acknowledging the struggling economy.

During the 2023 campaign, the pro-democracy opposition highlighted the failure of Erdoğanomics as voters soured on the AKP’s mishandling of persistent inflation. And despite Erdoğan’s attempts to course correct ahead of the 2024 local elections, widespread economic disillusionment was “decisive for the AKP’s poor performance” across the country. This year, the government’s increased political repression has continued to shake investor confidence in Turkey’s long-term economic stability, leaving the window open for renewed pushback from pro-democracy actors.

Share

Increased crackdowns underscore the need for continued opposition unity

The pro-democracy opposition’s 2024 victories proved that the ruling party is still beatable — and that coordinated democratic resistance remains a bulwark against continued autocratization. But those gains have also triggered a renewed wave of repression. Since the start of this year, Erdoğan’s government has arrested hundreds of opposition officials and supporters, including his top political rival, Istanbul Mayor İmamoğlu.

Indeed, the opposition faces an increasingly perilous playing field in which the co-opted media, courts, and formerly independent institutions all reinforce Erdoğan’s grip on power. To reclaim the narrative and stay visible, pro-democracy forces must compete with a hostile media apparatus dominated by the AKP and its cronies. Still, a few independent outlets continue to offer reliable analysis, and the growth of news-based content on YouTube and other social media platforms has helped pro-democracy voices preserve their space in the public square.

Over the past decade, opposition unity has posed one of the few serious threats to the AKP. And Erdoğan’s latest crackdowns show that he understands his own insecurity all too well.

Just this week, İmamoğlu urged the pro-democracy opposition to remain united and support a joint candidate in the event that he is barred from competing in the next presidential election.

Though Erdoğan has denied plans to seek another term as president (which would violate the term limits he imposed in 2017), his recent maneuvering suggests otherwise.

But as Erdoğan writes his next move, it's up to the pro-democracy opposition to stay unified — and visible — to push back and ensure that Turkey’s next chapter features a democratic resurgence.

Since returning to power in 2010, Viktor Orbán and his Fidesz party have ushered in an era of precipitous democratic decline in Hungary. Like other contemporary autocrats, Orbán initially won a free and fair election but has since eroded the rule of law and reshaped the electoral system in his favor.

Subscribe now

Over the past 15 years, Hungary’s pro-democracy forces have learned how to resist, then adapt to Orbán’s autocratic impulses — through a relentless process of trial and error.

In retrospect, that adaptation was much slower than it likely needed to be. Had pro-democracy forces recognized just how dramatically Orbán was changing the game of electoral politics — and shifted strategy accordingly — then maybe the path toward restoring democracy today would be clearer. Still, the story is not over and the Hungarian opposition has slowly learned how to adapt.

American pro-democracy leaders would be wise to take notes.

Initially, Viktor Orbán’s swift constitutional changes and legislative maneuvers caught Hungary’s pro-democracy forces flat-footed

Soon after taking power in 2010, Orbán and his two-thirds parliamentary supermajority rewrote the constitution behind closed doors and changed electoral laws to their own benefit. Within a year, the ruling party replaced the existing two-round election system for individual constituencies with a single-round to prevent smaller parties from coalescing ahead of a runoff. The government also reduced the number of electoral districts and secretly redrew constituencies to shore up Fidesz strongholds and dilute the political power of opposition-friendly areas.

Alongside sweeping constitutional changes, sudden changes to electoral laws (especially in the run-up to election day) have become a hallmark of Orbán’s rule. Every change to the electoral system is designed to bolster Orbán’s two-thirds supermajority, which is the cornerstone of his political dominance. And early on, Fidesz recognized that fracturing the opposition come election day was an effective way to preserve its power.

As New America’s Lee Drutman and Protect Democracy’s Farbod Faraji put it:

“Orbán’s Fidesz party took a more proportional voting system and made it more majoritarian.”

That shift to a more majoritarian electoral system helped Fidesz consolidate power by overrepresenting its supporters and locking out smaller opposition parties that could threaten its supermajority.

Ahead of the 2014 election, the rubber-stamp parliament passed a new law that required parties running a national list to compete in more districts in order to retain their official status, increasing the competition for opposition voters among non-Fidesz parties. The government also expedited citizenship for hundreds of thousands of ethnic Hungarians in neighboring countries, counting their votes in a secretive process overseen by Fidesz allies (and it was later revealed that over 95 percent of this bloc voted for the ruling party).

Combined with earlier rounds of gerrymandering and the uneven media ecosystem, these new laws padded the ruling party’s margins. Although Fidesz received only 45 percent of the final vote in 2014, Orbán’s electoral sleight of hand helped him clinch a two-thirds supermajority — by one seat — allowing his party to continue unilaterally passing laws and rewriting the constitution in pursuit of its illiberal agenda.

After the election, the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe (OSCE) condemned the “undue advantage” that helped Fidesz obtain its supermajority. U.S. officials also expressed concern over the changing legal landscape favoring the ruling party.

Still, Hungary’s pro-democracy forces were caught off guard by the government’s successful manipulation of the electoral system. Although a five-party alliance tried to build support in the months before the 2014 parliamentary elections, their efforts came too late. While the alliance recognized the importance of unity and aimed to publicize how Fidesz rigged the game, its last-minute coordination fell short of creating a winning pro-democracy coalition.

The 2014 defeat forced Hungarian democrats to adapt to Orbán’s autocratic funhouse — where up is down, down is up, and Fidesz always seems to come out on top.

After eight years in the wilderness, Hungary’s pro-democracy opposition took steps to build a more unified strategy

By constantly changing the rules of the game, Orbán forced the pro-democracy opposition into a constant state of reaction. And the state-controlled media apparatus made it even easier for Fidesz to dominate the narrative at all times. But as the 2018 campaign approached, the opposition recognized that it had to adapt in order to survive. It had to work proactively, not just reactively.

At this point, a new political identity emerged: the “unified opposition voter,” representing traditional left- and right-wing voters who were turned off by Fidesz. Despite ideological differences, these voters agreed on the need to unite against the government’s authoritarianism.

Civil society groups mobilized in support of this growing constituency, and informed the public about Orbán’s continued manipulation of the electoral system. And pro-democracy voters began pressuring opposition candidates to coalesce in order to avoid splitting the anti-Fidesz vote.

Even though Fidesz received just under 50 percent of the vote on election day, Orbán’s party still secured its two-thirds supermajority — again, by just one seat (what a coincidence, right?). Indeed, a Fidesz-backed electoral reform helped the ruling party’s margins by incentivizing the creation of “bogus parties” that siphoned votes away from the more viable opposition parties.

Beyond structural advantages, a post-election analysis of the 2018 contest by the pro-democracy group Unhack Democracy found evidence of wide-scale electoral fraud, including vote buying and intimidation. The OSCE also reported on the concerning overlap between state and campaign resources, indicating that “the ability of contestants to compete on an equal basis was significantly compromised.”

Although the pro-democracy opposition took steps to challenge Fidesz candidates one-on-one, it did not move quickly enough. And while civil society organizations urged non-viable opposition candidates to step aside for the sake of unity, in many cases, ego got in the way of effective coordination. Still, the emergence of a new opposition strategy was a sign of progress, and the lessons of trial and error would help inform future decisions by a more prepared pro-democracy coalition.

Heading into the 2019 municipal elections, opposition parties took stock of past shortcomings and agreed to form a unified pro-democracy bloc. Soon after, civil society groups organized primaries to determine which candidates would challenge Fidesz incumbents.

This time, the coordinated strategy paid off. In towns and cities across Hungary, the united opposition broke the ruling party’s decade-long hold on municipal power. The results marked a breakthrough for those hoping to restore Hungary’s democracy, especially after the opposition had lost several seats by just a handful of votes in the previous national election.

Spread the word

In more recent years, Hungary’s pro-democracy coalition has continued to adapt and sharpen its tools of resistance

Of course, the opposition’s gains in 2019 didn’t go unnoticed by Orbán and Fidesz lawmakers. In an effort to stall the opposition's newfound momentum, parliament passed a series of amendments to the country’s electoral laws. And once again, Fidesz increased the number of districts in which parties were required to compete — another ploy to divide opposition voters.

But those on the frontlines of Hungary’s growing pro-democracy coalition had seen this film before. Instead of getting bogged down in a lengthy deliberative process, the six leading opposition parties put aside their differences and agreed to run a joint candidate for prime minister and coordinated parliamentary candidates in the 2022 elections. After more than a decade of Fidesz rule, a pro-democracy alliance — United for Hungary — was prepared to take on the ruling party.

Building on the success of the 2019 municipal elections, civil society groups again played an important role in organizing primaries to select candidates for the pro-democracy ticket. The primary process became a major asset for the pro-democracy opposition, giving candidates the opportunity to engage directly with voters eager to challenge Fidesz at the ballot box. For the first time in over ten years, the opposition offered a positive narrative to bring disillusioned voters into the pro-democracy tent.

True to form, Orbán introduced new electoral changes in the run-up to election day. The government formally legalized “voter tourism” (already a common practice in previous contests), allowing people to register in any district regardless of their primary residence. Alongside existing laws that allowed pro-Fidesz voters in the near-abroad to vote, as well as tweaks to constituency boundaries, the new set of laws gave the ruling party additional opportunities to bolster its margins where needed. And the government’s propaganda machine worked in overdrive to convince voters that the opposition would bring Hungary into the war in Ukraine, casting Orbán as the only peacemaker in the race. Meanwhile, the pro-democracy candidate for prime minister, Péter Márki-Zay, received just five minutes of airtime in the Fidesz-controlled media during the entire campaign.

So it came as little surprise that, despite a more coordinated attempt at unity, the opposition fell short on election night. Fidesz won another resounding victory and maintained its prized supermajority, aided by its electoral contortions and the pro-democracy alliance’s muddled messaging. In the aftermath of the election, it became clear that United for Hungary was merely a marriage of convenience, unable to mount a full-throttled pro-democracy challenge to the ruling party.

Still, opposition supporters looked for lessons in their defeat. Although many had assumed that a united front of the top opposition parties was the best bet to challenge Fidesz, years of Orbán’s electoral reforms had essentially created a majoritarian system in which a singular party would be best suited to take on the entrenched incumbents.

Momentum has since shifted in that direction.

Over the past year, an unlikely figure has emerged as Orbán’s leading challenger ahead of the 2026 parliamentary elections: Péter Magyar, a former Fidesz insider who broke with the ruling party in early 2024 amid a high-profile government scandal and coverup. Though initially uninterested in joining the political arena, Magyar soon took over the Respect and Freedom Party (Tisza) and transformed it into a serious political force.

Magyar’s movement has redefined Hungarian politics, and his criticism of Orbán’s “mafia state” has resonated with voters across the country. In his first electoral success, Magyar led Tisza to a strong result in the 2024 European Parliament elections, in which Fidesz posted its worst showing on record.

Now, heading into the 2026 elections, Magyar is combining his firsthand experience dealing with Orbán’s inner circle with 15 years’ worth of lessons from the pro-democracy coalition. His clear and direct anti-corruption message has sparked a new movement and energized voters who are both exhausted by the government’s authoritarian tactics and disillusioned with the old guard opposition parties. In 2026, Tisza plans to run its own candidates in every electoral district, aiming to face off one-on-one against Fidesz across Hungary.

For the first time, a single pro-democracy party seems poised to challenge Orbán at the ballot box — the culmination of years of adaptation to the government’s ever-changing electoral manipulation. And while not everyone in the pro-democracy camp is fully behind Magyar, Tisza has led Fidesz in most public polls released this year.

Crucially, Magyar hasn’t let Orbán control the narrative. Already, he has proactively pushed back on new laws targeting his candidacy. Other recent changes to the electoral laws — eliminating districts in opposition-friendly Budapest and allowing unlimited campaign contributions — are designed to benefit Fidesz but reveal Orbán’s vulnerability against an invigorated opposition.

After 15 years of Orbán’s rule, the pro-democracy coalition is finally taking the initiative. More importantly, it has learned to adapt to a constantly shifting authoritarian environment. Victories notched along the way — like blocking the proposed internet tax that threatened free expression, organizing successful opposition primaries, and defying the government’s attempts to curtail civil liberties — have demonstrated that a strategic approach by pro-democracy forces can yield results.

Hungary’s democratic story is still unfolding.

Since 2010, it has largely been a story of trial and error, which is unavoidable when facing an autocratic government. Had pro-democracy forces recognized and responded to the authoritarian threat sooner, the path toward restoring democracy might have been made easier. But effective resistance in Orbán’s autocratic funhouse has required the pro-democracy coalition to adapt, not just react, to each new distortion thrown its way.

When the 2024 election results were called this past November, I had a flashback to a backyard barbecue I’d attended in 1999 in the small coastal city in Venezuela where I was living at the time.

Hugo Chávez had been in office less than a year, and between bites of char-grilled steak and sips of rum cocktails, my fellow attendees were debating the relative merits of the new president’s policies and their concerns about his less-than-pristine relationship with the rule of law. (Chávez had led an unsuccessful coup attempt in 1992.) Though democratically elected, Chávez soon closed the door behind him — abolishing term limits, redrawing districts to favor his allies, using state resources to suppress the opposition, stacking the National Electoral Council, and remaining in office until his death in 2013. His hand-picked Bolivarian successor, Nicholás Maduro, still holds power. And it seems that no matter how many votes the other side garners, they simply have not managed to overcome the authoritarian grip on their country (yet).

Venezuela has been heavy on my mind this year, as were all the countries where I’ve monitored elections and observed manipulation of the people, the process, and the results. Was the United States destined to follow a similar path? What did we need to watch for? What should we do in order to keep our elections from being manipulated? How do we make sure every valid vote is counted in 2026 and 2028?

Motivated by these questions, a team of my colleagues and I interviewed dozens of leaders, experts, practitioners, and scholars from around the world. From Cambodia to Zimbabwe, we learned how their electoral systems have been corrupted, the tactics they’ve used to try and safeguard them, and what gives them hope. From these rich conversations we came up with eight rules of antiauthoritarianism, lessons that democracy defenders can apply to stay in the game, be strategic and smart, and, ultimately, keep the United States from declining into a more authoritarian form of government.

This is the Democracy Atlas.

In this series, my colleague Michael Angeloni will pair each of the eight rules with a case study from one of the countries we examined. The rules and accompanying case studies are as follows:

• Rule one: Resist. Then adapt (Hungary)

• Rule two: Be unified. Be visible (Turkey)

• Rule three: Win lawsuits and hearts and minds (Mexico)

• Rule four: Leadership lives in everyone (Cambodia)

• Rule five: Show — don’t tell — how things work and what is trustworthy (Nigeria)

• Rule six: Remember: Autocrats are not invincible. But be careful (Zimbabwe)

• Rule seven: Leave the door open for defectors (Serbia)

• Rule eight: Keep going (Poland)

To get each of these lessons in your inbox, make sure you’re subscribed. (The first one will be tomorrow!)

Subscribe now

I know you don’t need to be convinced of the threat in the United States, but I’m certain you’re wondering what else you can do to stop it. Our goal with this series is to show you how others have navigated the erosion of their own democratic spaces. That way you will be able to spot mistakes to avoid, or, even better, identify the role you want to play in shaping the course of our own history as it unfolds.

We don’t know the exact formula of events and actions that will halt the spread of authoritarian power here in the United States. We can’t predict exactly what will move the needle or how long it will take. But if we all find the courage to keep showing up, to continue to build toward victory, to believe in ourselves and each other, to do what we can, especially when it’s hard — together, it will add up to something powerful.

Authoritarianism is no match for the human spirit. I hope that this series brings you strength and inspiration as you do your part to protect our democracy.

Help spread the Democracy Atlas. Share with your networks.

Share here

The White House is engaged in an all-out assault on civil society. Targeting the legal profession with executive orders, retaliating against independent media, escalating existential threats to universities — all of these aim to extinguish any civic space not controlled by the president.

Likely, nonprofit organizations are next.

Read more: Trump’s next move to silence free speech is coming.

Subscribe now

Nonprofit organizations — an integral component of civil society — provide critical services to local communities; feed, house and clothe the poor; support veterans; advocate for access to healthcare; protect children and the elderly; offer religious services; fight for clean air and water; defend civil liberties and other core freedoms; and, importantly, hold our leaders in government to account when they abuse their power. That’s precisely why the current administration — like autocratic regimes around the world — plans to target nonprofits. It’s another way to silence critics and sideline any organization that might serve as a check on the president’s power.

The landscape is shifting rapidly, which means that these attacks might not come solely in the form of executive orders singling out individual organizations. Rather, they could come from the president directing agencies like the DOJ and IRS to initiate time-consuming and resource-draining investigations into nonprofits that receive federal funds.

Whether you’re a nonprofit who's already experiencing politicized attacks, or you’re worried you may be targeted in the future, we know this is a scary time. But staying focused on your work has never been more important. Our democracy needs organizations like yours. As a follow-up to the guide we wrote to help orient nonprofits to the threat of politicized government investigations, we created a primer on responding to politicized executive actions so that you can continue to do your mission-critical work in the face of these threats.

Read the primer

Here are the 22 things to do if your organization is targeted — including general operating, internal and public communications, and security responses:

General operating responses: how to carry on with your work

1. Remain Calm. Staying level-headed will help ensure good decision-making and avoid disrupting your core work.

2. Involve legal counsel as soon as possible. An attorney’s expertise will be crucial in determining your organization’s options and protecting confidential information.

3. Continue your mission-based work to the extent practicable. It may be tempting to pause or shut down operations, but this is usually not necessary and may even be counterproductive.

4. Ensure that your staff is aware of all relevant guidance for what they should and should not do throughout this process. In frightening times, communication is critically important.

5. Ensure your front-line staff know what to do if they receive a call or in-person visit from someone claiming to be a government official, including how to verify the official’s identity and your protocol for accepting service of process on behalf of the organization.

6. Communicate with funders and partners, consistent with any guidance about such communications from legal counsel. It’s important not to hide or retreat in moments like these — civil society is stronger together.

7. Evaluate whether to inform your insurance carriers of the situation, if you have insurance. Your carrier may have resources to help you navigate a crisis.

8. Stay up-to-date on all required filings and registrations. Even as you address this situation, it is important that you continue to meet your routine administrative and legal obligations.

Internal responses: how to think about internal communications & document retention

9. Continue to follow your organization’s document retention policies and consult with legal counsel whether there is any need to create exceptions to those policies as a result of a politicized executive action. It is important not to delete documents in response to any executive action.

10. Assume that anything in writing could be disclosed or discoverable. Emails and text messages, even on platforms that promise encryption, DO qualify as discoverable documents.

11. Remember that jokes and sarcasm often do not translate out of context, especially in writing, and can easily be misunderstood or misconstrued. Your staff should use extra caution when communicating with each other.

12. Be cautious about sending written messages about any executive action targeting your organization. It’s natural to want to send a flurry of communications following something like this, but it’s important to remember that anything in writing could be discoverable. Ideally, all communications should include legal counsel. This may be particularly critical if you hear from others indirectly, and without verification, that your organization may soon become a target. In such a scenario, remind staff of your communications and document retention protocols and refrain from spreading rumors or engaging in speculation.

Public communications responses: how to win the narrative

13. Consider engaging a crisis communications professional to help, depending on the severity of the situation. Engaging with a professional early may be useful in getting ahead of things.

14. Ensure you have a clear process in place for preparing and approving public statements.

15. Temporarily limit public communications, especially about the specific politicized executive action, until you’ve had a chance to consult with legal counsel. This includes speaking with the press, responding to social media posts, or even communicating with friends.

16. Be prepared to share compelling information about the important work your organization does, and how that work positively affects peoples’ lives.

17. Only engage when you have a strategy in place. Importantly, do not engage in personal public criticism of government officials or post on social media while panicked or triggered.

Security responses: how to keep your people safe

If you are targeted, your organization may receive unwanted attention from other bad actors seeking to take advantage of your perceived vulnerability. Your response to politically motivated executive actions should also include protecting your organization against these additional threats.

18. Implement online threat monitoring for your organization and staff. Monitoring can help you know if your organization is being discussed or threatened online and needs to take additional security measures.

19. Encourage staff to be vigilant about online and data privacy. Consider signing up for an online data scrubbing or internet data privacy service, and adopting measures like multi-factor authentication.

20. Review your physical security protocols. Make sure your staff knows what resources you have available and who to call if they receive or perceive a threat (including calling 9-1-1 if they sense immediate danger).

21. Retrain staff on cybersecurity best practices and be alert for increased phishing and cyber attacks.

22. Keep basic security protocols even as your organization is moving quickly. Take the time to double check the “To” field of messages, use proper privacy settings, vet participants in group chats and calls, and encourage staff to be cognizant of their physical security.

Despite these looming threats, it’s important not to lose sight of the bigger picture: the path forward lies in organizations across the ideological spectrum calling these tactics out for what they are, forcefully pushing back, standing up collectively, and continuing their everyday, mission-oriented work.

*This newsletter is not meant to, and does not, offer legal advice.* Any organization or individual who believes they may be covered or impacted by any executive actions should consult with an attorney.

Additional resources

Politicized Executive Actions Targeting Civil Society

Protecting Civic Space - a Primer: How to prepare your organization for politicized government investigations

Democracy 2025 - Resources to Respond to Threats on NGOs and Civil Society

This weekend I had the distinct privilege of giving the commencement address to the graduating class — and now my fellow alumni — of Wesleyan University.

I traveled to Middletown not just because it was a remarkable honor to be invited, but also because this is a pivotal moment for our democracy. Universities, all universities, are part of the fulcrum on which our system of self government presently rests.

Subscribe now

As Adam Serwer writes eloquently yesterday in The Atlantic (gift link), the Trump administration is engaged in a “sweeping attack on human knowledge and progress … a deliberate destruction of education, science, and history, conducted with a fanaticism that recalls the Dark Ages that followed Rome’s fall.”

What happens now, whether or not our democracy survives this dark period, is up to the graduating seniors of Wesleyan. Just as it is up to all the graduating seniors at all our institutions of education across the country. Just as it is up to all of us.

Share this speech

Here is my advice to the Wesleyan Class of 2025, offered with the humility that it is they who will ultimately lead us. It is the same advice I would give to anyone. In that spirit, I share it with you here. (And I would love to know your reactions or thoughts in the comments.)

Thank you, Kimberly. To President Roth, all the Wesleyan faculty, staff, and trustees, thank you for your stewardship of this remarkable university. To all the parents, caretakers, and family members here today, thank you for helping to produce such incredible graduates. And most importantly, congratulations again to the Class of 2025!

Now, I have got to start with an apology. When I got my degree up here, the commencement speaker was Oprah. And the last time I was here for commencement, for my reunion, I brought with me a guy I was working for at the time to be the speaker: a little-known fellow by the name of Barack Obama. And you? You got a guy you never heard of. I mean, even the last degree recipient just won the Pulitzer.

But, you get something I didn't have, which is you get to graduate at a moment of historic consequence. That is a burden, but it is also a privilege.

And I didn't have that. When I walked across this stage, the things we were concerned about were what President Clinton meant by the word “is,” whether Ross and Rachel were really on “a break,” and whether a computer glitch called Y2K was going to reset our DVD players. And if you don't know about that one, ask your parents. It was terrifying.

But your moment is different. It has more in common with that of a young graduate in the Spring of 1940, who was sitting at a ceremony much like this one, listening to the usual admonitions about duty and destiny but who was thinking about something else: That at that very moment, the world was on fire.

As John F. Kennedy sat in cap and gown, Nazi Germany was sweeping across Europe. The British had just escaped total annihilation at Dunkirk. France was about to fall. London would soon be bombed. But what troubled Kennedy the most was not the war itself, but the possibility that it could have been prevented.

He had just spent his senior year writing a thesis titled “Why England Slept,” in which he asked a simple but devastating question: How had one of the world’s greatest liberal democracies watched the rise of authoritarianism, only to do nothing until it was too late?

That question — posed about Britain then — is one we must ask ourselves today.

Eighty-five years later, the foundations of our democracy are being tested. We are in a moment of profound risk. A moment of true consequence. And in moments like this, history always offers two paths. One leads to renewal. The other to ruin.

And the burden of choosing the right path, Class of 2025, falls to you.

Fortunately, you graduate today with one of the most powerful tools for making that choice: a degree from this incredible university. I speak from experience.

When I arrived here in the Fall of 1995, Congress was trying to cut federal student aid by the largest amount in history. Outraged at the idea of slamming shut the doors of higher education to millions, a few of us, high on the heady hopefulness of freshman year, posted signs around campus calling for a meeting in the building that used to be standing right over there. We thought a few students would show up. But come on, this is Wesleyan. The whole room was packed beyond the doors.

We organized a national student movement, working with administrators and our legislators in Washington to oppose the cuts. We won. It was my first lived experience of democracy and our power as citizens within one.

After graduation, as a journalist covering the war in Kosovo, I saw the opposite: what happens when governance fails, when the power-hungry turn neighbors against neighbors, and violence becomes the order of the day. I met families in refugee camps tugging at my sleeves, begging for help. I saw whole villages on the side of the highway holding shovels, only to realize they were digging mass graves.

It's an image seared into my mind forever. It has inspired a career trying to strengthen our democracy as our greatest shield against such horrors, and our most powerful sword for freedom.

Recently, I was giving a talk in which I asked an audience to stand up for democracy because, you know, we've got to practice that. And afterwards, a young woman approached me on the side of the stage. “Thank you,” she said. “My parents were from Nicaragua,” she told me. “They believed in a movement that promised utopia, but in the end its leader took away their freedom and forced us into exile.”

She grabbed me by the shoulder and through tears she said: “Keep warning everyone.”

So I’m here to honor her request. Now, some of you may not agree with my perspective. That's your right. But that right to disagree freely is precisely what I speak today to protect.

Because that young woman's family didn't support a tyrant because they were ignorant or evil. They likely did so because in moments of crisis and transition, easy solutions offer the illusion of hope. And graduates, we are in such a moment of crisis and transition.

You inherit a politics that is poisoned. An economy full of uncertainty. A planet in turmoil. New technologies that can either enslave or empower us. For too long, our systems have failed to meet the moment. You have only known dysfunctional governments that have been unable to solve the problems of our time: climate change, migration, inequality, injustice. Institutions that serve the powerful more than the people, and elections that feel like bitter battles for survival.

You have every right to be frustrated. And when someone comes along — a disruptor — who says, I alone can fix it, it is tempting to believe them.

But here's the painful truth that young woman’s family and so many others have learned the hard way: Every single time people have given in to that temptation, they come to regret it.

In recent years, just look to Hungary, Turkey, Venezuela. These were democracies, each of them. Each, facing frustration and stagnation, handed power to flawed leaders overselling promises of prosperity. And each descended into repression, corruption, and, in some cases, outright tyranny.

Now, we may comfort ourselves that America is different. But let us not mistake preeminence for permanence. The truth is, the only way it can happen here, is if we believe that it cannot.

We must remember: It’s not that democracy doesn’t work. It’s that democracy requires work. It survives because people choose to keep it alive.

In 1955, Claudette Colvin, a Black high school student in Montgomery, Alabama, refused to give up her seat on a segregated bus. “History had me glued to the seat,” she later said. Nine months later, Rosa Parks copied Claudette's act. Four days after that, a young local preacher named Martin Luther King Jr. was elected to lead the Montgomery bus boycott. We remember Parks and King, but the 15-year-old Claudette was the spark.

So was Mouawiya Syasneh, a 14-year-old Syrian boy inspired by the Arab Spring. He spray-painted about his own country's despot "Your turn has come” on the walls of his hometown of Daraa — words that ignited a movement that eventually toppled a dictator.

A 14-year-old. A 15-year-old. Young people who rose above grievance and anger, who replaced resentment with responsibility, who turned outrage into imagination — and lit a blaze of freedom armed with little more than the flint and steel of truth and courage.

I just made it sound easy. Like you can just turn on the flint and steel of truth and courage like you're screwing in one of those fasteners on an Ikea desk. The task of securing democracy for future generations may not be quite that simple — though honestly, neither is assembling that Ikea desk. But they're both doable, if you follow a clear set of steps. In this case three, really.

And the first, step one, is to be that spark. Take the first action — even just small symbolic ones, whether it was Claudette sitting down or Mouawiya standing up, these simple acts encourage others by showing them they are not alone. We've seen that here at Wes. When President Roth called out attacks on academia, he helped inspire his peers to do the same. Courage really is contagious.

And it leads to step two: collective action. The bus boycott; the Syrian freedom movement; universities banding together and to say an attack on one is an attack on all. This is what is required. When freedom is threatened, people who normally disagree must band together in its defense. Divide and conquer is tyranny's oldest trick. Pit us against each other — on the basis of race, religion, or national origin — and it's easier to pick our pockets of money and power.

So I ask you to act collectively. When the freedom of any one of us is endangered, act as if the freedom of all of us is. Because it is. And rather than demonize those with whom we disagree or impose purity tests, we must forge common cause with the broadest possible coalition in defense of our Republic.

And if we do that, we create the space for step three: not just to resist, but to rebuild. The 20th-century order is over. A new age is being born. What democracy looks like in that new age — how it works, whom it serves — that is your generation's work.

But I think we all can agree: We can do better than this. So long as we build from our most cherished ideals: Freedom. Justice. Human dignity. Equality under the law.

These are the values that can take us from chaos to competence, from cruelty to kindness, from corruption to common purpose. They are the tools to turn your tattered inheritance into something more just, more inclusive, more beautiful, more lasting.

If you do so, as the leader who led Britain out of the darkness Kennedy observed rightly predicted then: “the new world [you build], with all its power and might, [will step] forth to the rescue and liberation of the Old.”

We've had three national foundings in our history: a Constitution and Union that rose from the Revolution; a Reconstruction that rose from the Civil War; and a New Deal and Civil Rights Movement that rose from the Depression and World War II. It is your generation's opportunity to raise a fourth.

You will decide whether democracy endures. You will decide whether freedom is won or lost. You will decide whether this country writes a dreary final chapter — or its next great one.

The weight of history is a burden, yes. But it is also a profound blessing. And as Wesleyan graduates I know you have it in you to do this. We can witness it right now by making this promise: That whatever your politics, you will always stand up for our democracy, and our right as a free people to set our own destiny.

Can we do that? Can we take the first step of modeling the spark and standing up for democracy? If you're able, stand up for democracy right now. Stand up. Let our rising start your rising, as the generation that renews our democracy. Look around. You have it in you.

Don’t give future graduates cause to write why America slept as the world crumbled. Give them reason to write how America was awakened. We need you, graduates. Let's hear it for the Class of 2025. Congratulations again, and best of luck in this most consequential time.

I find commencement speeches, for better or worse, to be a helpful barometer of the times we live in. You’ll notice how many this year are touching on similar themes. Just a few examples:

Sherrilyn Ifill, president and director-counsel emeritus at the NAACP Legal Defense Fund, speaking at the University of Maryland School of Law:

I planned to be a civil rights lawyer. By no means did I believe our system was perfect, but I understood that I had pledged to do the work of making change by working within the context of this infrastructure and doing so honorably. Today that may seem quaint but I assure you it is not. It is the glue that holds together a profession that is essential for ensuring the strength of the rule of law. And as such, it is essential for undergirding democracy. There can be no healthy democracy where the rule of law is threatened.

Jerome Powell, chair of the Federal Reserve, speaking at Princeton University:

Since the founding of this great democracy 250 years ago, generation upon generation have assumed the burden and the honor of moving us closer to the ideal that all are created equal. Now, it's your turn. I ask you to take a minute and realize how the quest for these values has led us to this point in our history. We lead the world in so many ways, including in scientific innovation and economic dynamism. Our great universities are the envy of the world and a crucial national asset. Look around you. I urge you to take none of this for granted. When you look back in 50 years, you will want to know that you have done whatever it takes to preserve and strengthen our democracy, and bring us ever closer to the Founders' timeless ideals. …

A very last, and critical point. Your life matters — to the people you love and to the broader world. Fifty years from now, you will want to be able to look in the mirror and know that you did what you thought was right, in every part of your life. At the end of the day, your integrity is all you have. Guard it carefully.

Scott Pelley, 60 Minutes correspondent, speaking at Wake Forest University:

[I]n this moment — this moment, this morning — our sacred rule of law is under attack. Journalism is under attack. Universities are under attack. Freedom of speech is under attack. An insidious fear is reaching through our schools, our businesses, our homes and into our private thoughts. The fear to speak. In America? If our government is — in Lincoln’s words — “of the people, by the people and for the people” — then why are we afraid to speak?

Have you seen other commencement speeches that have inspired you and risen to the moment? Let us know in the comments.

Transcript, photo, and video courtesy of Wesleyan University.

Our democracy is in a race against time.

1,285 days from now there will be another presidential election. 1,360 days from now the next president will be sworn in.

The Trump faction’s shock-and-awe approach to governance is intended to consolidate control over key institutions of government and society before these deadlines. If it can do so, it can tilt the playing field — by quieting critics, controlling the narrative, and changing the rules of the election itself — to ensure its continued grip on power.

Subscribe now

But that’s not a foregone conclusion. As Ian Bassin wrote earlier this week, the authoritarian movement is starting to falter, and an opposition coalition is beginning to show its strength:

Trump is losing in court, losing the public, losing over and over, which ultimately means he's losing the one thing critical to the success of autocrats: momentum.

This race against time looks much more winnable than it did two months ago. But it is still a race, and to win it we must collectively do two things: First, we must slow the entrenchment of authoritarian power — preserving the right and freedom to dissent, disagree, and collectively change course. And, second, we must build a robust and growing opposition and present a new alternative vision that challenges the status quo.

Both of these tasks are critical. We cannot afford to ignore one in favor of the other — or worse, to treat them as somehow in tension. We must do both.

How to slow authoritarianism’s march

Three things to keep in mind as we continue working to slow the progress of consolidation of power:

One: Keep up the pressure — autocracy is not inevitable. The authoritarian faction is losing momentum. This is good. Critical, in fact. Autocrats require momentum to bully their opposition into submission.

But it does not mean democracy will survive. It gives us the opportunity to protect it. As Zack Beauchamp writes this week in Vox: Trump is losing.

[Trump’s] failure is, in large part, a result of his team’s errors. While their approach broadly resembled foreign authoritarians’, it was a poor copy at every level — a strategically unsound campaign, with poorly thought-out tactics that were executed incompetently.

“We should thank [our] lucky stars that Trump chose to do this in the most stupid way possible,” says Lucan Way, a political scientist at the University of Toronto who studies democratic backsliding.

None of this is to say that American democracy is safe. Never before has a president been so committed to breaking the constitutional order and seizing power. We do not know whether America’s democratic institutions will hold when the pressure has been mounting for years rather than months. But the events of the first 100 days give us reason to hope.

The pro-democracy coalition has been given an incredible gift: a would-be autocrat who may not have the competence to execute on his vision of autocracy. We must seize that opportunity.

Two: Be ready for escalation — and don’t be intimidated by it. The White House knows that they are struggling, especially on the economy and in approval ratings. Their stalled progress makes the situation more dangerous. As they get desperate, expect them to resort to ever more extreme maneuvers to try to consolidate power.

The rhetoric coming from the administration is already escalating. Consider Attorney General Bondi’s comments about Judge Dugan in Wisconsin: “This is a criminal judge sitting on a criminal bench.” Or Stephen Miller’s comments this week about Illinois Governor Pritzker:

Be ready to spot these escalations when they come — and to stay the course in the face of heightening intimidation tactics.

Three: Keep a focus on elections. We know one thing: Competitive authoritarians don’t cancel elections, they just rig the game so no one else can win. That’s already happening here.

I live in North Carolina, where a losing candidate from last fall’s state Supreme Court race is still trying to flip the outcome by disqualifying thousands of military and overseas voters (*coincidentally* targeting only voters from four Democratic-leaning counties) who followed every rule in casting their ballots last fall.

As my colleague Anne Tindall told The New York Times:

The big story here is that never, ever, ever before have we seen a court, months after an election, change election rules to retroactively disqualify a class of voters and flip the results.

If you can do that, no election is safe — period.

But we also need to watch for more subtle subversion tactics that seek to twist and distort America’s political playing field, such as the budding attempts to use the FCC to censor and intimidate the free press or to use the Justice Department to go after the opposition’s ability to raise money by attacking ActBlue (but not the Republican alternative, WinRed).

In short, if you’re struggling to decide what you should prioritize, my recommendation is to focus on the things that pose the biggest threats to free and fair elections — both the legal and administrative architecture and the less-tangible public square.

How to nurture and build a pro-democracy alternative

At the same time, we must do more. If we have learned one thing from the past eight years, it is that just attempting to blunt the harmful tactics is not sufficient to slow the march of autocracy. As we seek to prevent the entrenchment of authoritarian power, we must also seek to build up a potent alternative.

For this, there is no clear playbook. Successful political strategies will be context-dependent, responsive to both the specific authoritarian threat and larger social and economic issues. It’s politics, there is no substitute.

Still, some ideas about how we — collectively — can engage in building a pro-democracy alternative:

• Big-tent coalitions tend to succeed. While there are obvious tradeoffs between movement breadth and coherence, there does seem to be a clear pattern from around the world: Cross-ideological and cross-sectoral coalitions tend to succeed in resisting or ousting autocrats, in part because they give voters a clear choice and signal what’s at stake — nothing more than democracy itself.

• Welcome people into the tent. Over the coming months and years, there is going to be a lot of economic dislocation and other harm flowing from the cruelty and chaos emerging from the White House. The pro-democracy ecosystem must help Americans understand how those harms are related to autocratic governance — and how restoring democracy can help undo them.

• Focus on reform, not just opposition. Successful movements usually have a vision of positive change that contrasts with the status quo. Over the coming period, pro-democracy leaders are going to have to do more to flesh out a compelling vision for a post-Trump democracy that not only undoes the damage, but also speaks to the discontent that sent a would-be autocrat back to the White House in the first place. (For our part, we’ll be focusing on political reforms — but we’ll need a lot more than that!)

• Encourage political entrepreneurship (and even healthy competition). Innovation requires doing things differently — politically, tactically, and rhetorically. It also requires some degree of healthy competition. Individual actors can and should seize the spotlight and, if successful, be rewarded. Even as the pro-democracy movement pushes back on the White House, don’t be afraid of some intra-movement competition and jockeying. It’ll do us all good in the long-term.

Finally, a note of humility. None of us know for sure how to win this race — how to defeat authoritarianism and to restore (and eventually improve) our democracy. That’s okay. I suspect that’s been true at every pivotal moment in our history. There was no certain playbook for the American Revolution or Reconstruction or the civil rights movement or the fight for women’s suffrage or the struggle against McCarthyism.

That didn’t stop the advocates for freedom, equality, and democracy from committing themselves to the task with everything they had. We can — we must — do the same.

What else we’re tracking:

• The New York Times reports that Microsoft has dropped one of the law firms that capitulated to the administration in favor of one that’s standing up (potentially the first of many such cases). As Ben Berwick and Rachel Goodman wrote last week, collective action isn’t just the admirable path — it’s the best way for people targeted to save their own skin.

• The House of Representatives is badly in need of modernization. Drew Penrose and Norm Ornstein write in the Washington Post on how expansion and modernization could not only improve governance, but also change the face of Washington, DC. (Hint: It involves a stunning new public space): Congress needs an expansion. A ‘high line’ could make it possible.

• Two new toolkits in our Faithful Fight series published this week: First, Providing and advocating for mutual aid by Shailly Gupta Barnes. And second, Welcoming the Stranger, protecting immigrants & refugees by Tamara Upfal. Read the whole series (and sign up to get it in your inbox) here.

• A broad coalition of unions, nonprofit groups, and local governments are suing the administration over the reorganization of federal agencies, mass firing of civil servants, and resulting disruptions to government programs and services without congressional authority. Read about the case here: AFGE vs. Trump.

• From the Immigration Hub, see the faces that have been caught up in the administration’s immigration dragnet: Disappeared in America.

How you can help:

It’s not too late to comment on proposed rules to politicize the civil service — now renamed “Schedule P/C”. As Erica Newland, Jules Torti, and Ellinor Heywood write:

Schedule Policy/Career civil servants would have none of the safeguards that actually protect federal employees from politicized firings, demotions, or abuse. The new rule would also allow existing civil servant positions to be involuntarily moved into this category, thus stripping them of their protections.

But these rule changes require public comment before they can go into effect. These comments can both provide credible information about the dangers of politicizing the civil service and build a record of opinion that would help in any future litigation against Schedule P/C.

Learn how here.

We hear a lot of talk about young people, particularly Gen Z, and their support — or lack thereof — for democracy. On the surface, there’s a shade of truth to those concerns. Young people are disenchanted. But from their perspective, it’s not that they’ve entirely lost faith in democracy — it’s that they are being asked to believe in a future that feels fragile, or even irreparably broken.

New research from Protect Democracy and CIRCLE (the Center for Information & Research on Civic Learning and Engagement) challenges conventional wisdom about Gen Z’s relationship to democracy. While some young people are disengaged or disinterested, many are also navigating a system they believe in, in theory, but feel disconnected from in practice.

And while some remain hopeful and trusting (maybe to a fault), others are turning away, not because they don’t care, but because they’re simply not sure if democracy cares about them. As a member of Gen Z myself, I understand that disillusionment. But I also believe — deeply — that democracy still holds the power to deliver real, lasting change, and this research shows that I’m not alone.

What the research tells us

Our new white paper, How Does Gen Z Really Feel About Democracy? — built off polling conducted in November 2024 following the presidential election — finds that American young people can be categorized in three distinct groups, each with different relationships to democracy:

• Passive Appreciation (63%) – These young people believe in democracy, trust institutions, and reject authoritarianism. But their satisfaction can lead to complacency — they often engage civically only by voting.

• Dismissive Detachment (31%) – This group is skeptical of democratic principles and more open to authoritarian alternatives. Often left out of civic development opportunities, they lack trust in institutions and see little value in participation.

• Hostile Dissatisfaction (7%) – Deeply civically engaged and equally disillusioned, these young people are the most politically active — and the most willing to consider extreme measures when change feels out of reach.

These profiles reveal that Gen Z’s attitudes toward democracy don’t map neatly onto common demographic lines like race, gender, or geography, echoing findings from previous research that caution against treating young people as a political monolith.

Despite these differences, most Gen Z respondents still believe in democracy at its core. What separates them is whether democracy in practice feels like something they can trust, something that delivers, or something that shuts them out.

But don’t just take my word for it — our research asked young people to put their feelings on our democratic system in their own words. Here’s what some young people told us when we asked them directly why democracy is or isn’t working for them:

Each of these responses underscores the tension at the heart of this research: Young people still believe in the ideals of democracy — but many are losing faith in the systems meant to uphold them.

Read the findings

Young people are fighting back against authoritarianism. What can the pro-democracy movement learn from them?

Throughout history and around the world, young people often form the backbone of successful anti-authoritarian movements. Youth were critical in unseating a number of former authoritarian regimes, and they achieved this through leading movements, creating organizations, working to change institutions from the inside out, and setting aside differences to fight for something bigger.

In South Korea, student-led protests played a key role in the 2017 impeachment of President Park Geun-hye, after weeks of sustained public demonstrations demanding accountability. In Serbia, the youth movement Otpor! helped bring down the Milošević regime through mass mobilization, strategic nonviolence, and peer-to-peer organizing.

Fast forward to today, and our current pro-democracy movement has much to learn from the young researchers, activists, and civic engagement leaders working tirelessly to expand Gen Z’s participation in democracy.

Last week, we convened young leaders from across the country for a virtual event. You can watch the recording here: Voices of the Future.

Our speakers — from CIRCLE, MOVE Texas, BridgeUSA, and Protect Democracy — discussed the surprising reality on the ground: Gen Z isn’t checked out. They’re deeply invested in creating a democracy that works. But they need to be seen, trusted, and supported.

As my colleague Lara Hicks put it:

“Young people can opt out of the democratic process and lose faith in democratic institutions — even while believing in these core values and principles. It makes sense… if you don’t see yourself reflected in the process, democracy can feel like it’s not working for you.”

This disconnect doesn’t just explain frustration — it offers a roadmap. And it raises a challenge for every organization that claims to stand for democracy: How do we meet young people where they are — not just physically, but culturally and emotionally?

As Hailie Addison of BridgeUSA emphasized:

“We can’t rely on the traditional way of doing civic engagement — we have to acknowledge the cultural shifts Gen Z brings to the table. They want to feel ownership of the process, not just be asked to show up for it.”

This means investing in long-term, youth-led infrastructure — not just in election years, and not just to boost turnout, but to ensure democracy is worth engaging with.

So, are the kids alright? We will be.

Democratic (think process, not party) disillusionment among young people isn’t a fringe concern — it’s a bright flashing warning sign.

But, it’s also an opportunity.

Gen Z — my generation — has the civic skills, organizing power, and yes, the moral clarity to lead. What we need is a system that makes space for our voices, values our priorities and our futures, and equips us with the tools necessary to drive meaningful change in our lives and our communities.

When young people believe our participation matters, we don’t just vote — we change the world.

Throughout history — on the global stage and in states across America — religious leaders and communities have played a crucial role in protecting people and pushing back against authoritarian systems. As an authoritarian president consolidates power in the United States, now is the time for religious leaders and communities in the United States to organize and mobilize.

President Trump’s unprecedented attack on American institutions and vulnerable Americans requires an unprecedented response. The good news? Religious communities are already mobilizing — from filing lawsuits to stop harmful policies, to leading prayer vigils, to advocating for policies that take care of Americans.

One strategy of authoritarianism is to overwhelm people and make them feel a lack of agency. The best way to resist this temptation is to ground ourselves in community and make a plan to take action — and we are here to help.

Today, we are launching The Faithful Fight, a toolkit series for religious leaders and communities to help them make a plan to push back on the authoritarian threat.

Get each toolkit in your inbox

These toolkits will feature inspiring stories from people who have spent their lives working to advance justice, and will include practical ways that you can take action.

Why faith communities are key to the struggle between democracy and authoritarianism

Religious actors and communities have historically played key roles in both propping up and in dismantling authoritarian systems. Religious symbols, slogans, rituals, organizing infrastructure and communications networks have been important sources of power for autocrats and pro-democracy movements alike. It is important to build on the history of faith-based actions to promote pro-democracy movements. From the leadership of Black Churches during the American Civil Rights movement, to Pope St. John Paul II confronting Communist systems in Eastern Europe, to a multi-denominational faith movement in Zambia uniting to publicly oppose manipulation of their country’s constitution, to Muslim-led nonviolent resistance to autocracy during the Arab Spring, to Buddhist clergy rejecting military junta rule in Myanmar, religious leaders are the engine of helping communities overcome authoritarian rule.

The goal of authoritarian strategies is to create the politics of “us vs. them,” to give themselves the singular “authority” to determine who is deserving of rights, dignity, and even having their basic needs met, and who is not. Such efforts run in direct contrast to religious communities which believe that every person has human dignity — and many of which believe that each human person is made in the image and likeness of God.

From a policy perspective, the administration and its allies in Congress are taking extreme measures to delegitimize, intimidate, and divide religious communities, including:

• Authorizing Immigration and Customs Enforcement to conduct deportations inside houses of worship — repealing decades-old regulations prohibiting this practice.

• Pausing refugee resettlement and stopping funding for refugee resettlement work — including work to support refugees who have already been vetted and arrived in the United States.

• Spreading lies accusing Catholic, Lutheran, and other organizations of criminal operations and promising to defund their work altogether.

• Attacking diversity, equity and inclusion programs, resulting in Christian groups being forced to suspend their operations.

If history has taught us anything, it’s that the best way to defeat an authoritarian system is to build a broad coalition of individuals who might have major disagreements on politics or policy, but who are willing to join together to prioritize the defense of fundamental democratic freedoms. As two people who work closely with faith communities, we have been inspired by the leadership that has already been shown by people of faith across America. We are also hearing that people want concrete ways to take action, and more information on how to build the broad coalition that is necessary to meet this moment.

Read more: Why collective action is the only way

We want to do our part to build this coalition with you. In the coming weeks, we will publish toolkits from inspiring leaders who are taking on the work to protect our freedoms in communities across the country. They will provide concrete ways that you can take action, and we’ll be inviting you to share other information and materials that could help orient our collective action.

Today, we are publishing the first two toolkits in this series:

• Dr. Barbara Williams-Skinner of Faiths United to Save Democracy writes about strategic policy advocacy, and the ways that effective advocacy can lead to policy change: Advocating for a multiracial democracy.

• Mary Ellen Giess of Interfaith America writes about the ways that bridgebuilding and dialogue across differences can strengthen social movements: Building bridges across difference.

In the coming weeks we will publish toolkits from additional experts on urgent topics, including:

• Amanda Tyler of The Baptist Joint Committee for Religious Liberty, on how to protect religious liberty.

• Rev. Deth Im of Faith in Action on how to organize for collective action.

• Shailly Barnes of The Kairos Project on Mutual Aid and Strategies for Survival

• Tamara Upfal of The Religious Action Center for Reform Judaism on welcoming the stranger and standing up for immigrants and refugees.

• Maggie Siddiqi of Interfaith Alliance on how to stand up against attacks on government agencies.

• Rev. Stephen A. Green and Maria J. Stephan on non-cooperation and civil disobedience.

• A resource from Protect Democracy on security best practices.

Sign up to receive these each week

At a time when an authoritarian movement in the United States is seeking to divide us from each other and degrade fundamental freedoms and our shared humanity, religious communities have a critical role to play in bringing communities together and fighting back. The religious opposition can harness the power of faith actors and communities to draw on different strategies, ranging from bridge-building and advocacy to grassroots organizing, community care, and nonviolent resistance, in order to confront and transform hateful authoritarianism with spiritual tenacity and loving defiance, while moving us closer to the beloved community.

The first play in the autocratic playbook is not to attack everyone at once.

Rather, it’s to go after one. One law firm. One judge. One university. One journalist. The strategy isn’t just to silence the immediate target — it’s to make others watch and learn. To convince them that resistance is dangerous, costly, and futile. To make them believe that if they just keep their head down, it’ll happen to someone else instead.

The strategy works. It’s why Viktor Orbán, Vladimir Putin, and Recep Tayyip Erdoğan were able to consolidate power in Hungary, Russia, and Turkey without needing to bulldoze the entire system at once. They didn’t need to. It was enough to pick off a few key targets, watch everyone else retreat into fear and complicity, and let the structure collapse under its own weight.

Subscribe now

But the strategy fails — and it has failed — when societies recognize the game early enough and refuse to play along. When institutions that would normally compete or stay in their lane realize that they rise and fall together. That’s what collective action is. And that’s why it’s so dangerous to autocrats.

Right now, we are at the tipping point. Major law firms, universities, and media outlets are under pressure in the United States in ways that would have been unthinkable a decade ago — even six months ago. And so far, the response has been chillingly familiar: silence, retreat, and passivity. Or worse: capitulation. If that doesn’t change — and quickly — the next phase will be easy to predict. We’ve seen it before.

The good news is that we also know how this story can end differently. History teaches us how collective action works, why it works, and why it’s the only defense that has ever stopped the rise of autocracy. The question is whether we are willing to learn the lesson in time.

The anatomy of collective action — and why it’s hard

There’s a reason collective action is so difficult — and why it tends to emerge only under extreme duress. Game theory explains part of it: institutions often face a classic prisoner’s dilemma when they are under attack.

If a law firm comes under political or legal attack, other firms might have a temporary advantage in standing back and doing nothing. If Perkins Coie is attacked over perceptions about its past work, Kirkland & Ellis or Cravath might reason that they are better off distancing themselves — protecting their reputation, avoiding scrutiny, and even picking up the clients that Perkins Coie might lose.

This is precisely why autocrats attack institutions one at a time. It exploits this self-interest calculation, encouraging institutions to defect from each other rather than defend each other.

But history shows that this calculation is shortsighted — and ultimately self-destructive. Because once the first institution falls, the next one becomes more vulnerable. The cost of resistance rises after the first defeat because the autocrat now knows that the strategy works. The incentives shift, and what seemed like a rational choice to stay quiet quickly becomes a trap.

🛑 The Hungarian media collapse

Orbán’s consolidation of the Hungarian media was a textbook case. When Népszabadság was targeted, other outlets refused to come to its defense — hoping to avoid similar treatment. Orbán’s government learned that it could silence critical media without consequences. Within five years, the entire Hungarian media landscape was either directly controlled by the state or dominated by Orbán-friendly private owners. What seemed like rational self-interest turned out to be suicidal.

✅ Polish judges’ resistance

By contrast, when Poland’s government tried to purge the judiciary in 2017, the response was collective and immediate. Judges within Poland and across Europe mobilized in defense of their Polish colleagues. Public protests reinforced this solidarity, and the European Court of Justice raised the diplomatic and political costs of continuing the purge.

The Polish government backed down, still weakening judicial independence but pulling back from its most aggressive assaults — not because it was persuaded by moral arguments, but because the cost of continuing the attack had become politically unsustainable. The logic of collective action worked.

So which path has the American legal industry taken? One by one, each successively targeted firm has had to fend for themselves. In patriotic and inspiring fashion, Perkins Coie, WilmerHale, and Jenner & Block each decided to fight the unconstitutional attacks on them (notably, as this was going to press, all three have now won restraining orders in court against these EOs). Whereas Paul Weiss and Skadden negotiated one-off deals with the administration. The industry has thus far failed to come together in collective defense. By allowing firms to be shaken down one-by-one, the sector has virtually assured that the hostage-taking will continue.

We are seeing the same failures within higher education. The administration singled out Columbia for its first line of attack. What did America’s universities come together to say in Columbia’s defense? Nothing. Crickets. It fell to several courageous associations to put out strong statements (and a lawsuit we filed earlier this week), but the universities themselves crawled back into their turtle shells hoping not to be next. And so the administration continued its advance, moving on from Columbia to the University of Pennsylvania. Unless the universities join together to push back, the attacks will continue.

Why collective action raises political costs

Autocrats rely on a fundamental asymmetry: They have a centralized source of authority and a powerful platform. The institutions they attack — media, universities, law firms — are fragmented. That gives the autocrat a structural advantage in the contest for public opinion.

But collective action changes the balance of power by raising political costs in three key ways:

1. It creates social proof. Public opinion is not formed by facts alone — it’s shaped by social cues. When a single institution speaks out, it can be ignored or written off. But when dozens of institutions deliver the same message, it signals to the public that there’s a consensus — that the attack is illegitimate, dangerous, and unacceptable. This is how social movements work. It’s how public opinion on civil rights, marriage equality, and even environmental issues shifted over time. When enough voices say the same thing, it becomes harder for the public to dismiss the message — and harder for the autocrat to claim they are merely facing isolated critics.

2. It creates a defensive shield. When law firms, universities, or media organizations defend each other, they create a collective shield that raises the cost of targeting any one institution. If attacking Perkins Coie means provoking a coordinated defense from the entire legal community, it’s no longer an easy win — it’s a complicated, high-cost fight.

3. It forces public officials to pick sides. Politicians are risk-averse. When one institution is attacked, most political figures will avoid taking a stand. But when an entire sector mobilizes — when law firms, universities, and media outlets issue coordinated statements and legal challenges — it raises the political stakes. Staying silent becomes politically costly. Politicians are forced to either back the autocrat or defend the institutions — and that polarization strengthens the resistance.

It’s not just law firms or universities that have failed to heed these lessons. Republican elected officials are a canonical case study in this failure. During the 2016 primary, Donald Trump’s opponents failed to join together in collective opposition and thereby allowed him to win the presidential nomination — despite his having only plurality support within the party. And then repeatedly in the years since, it has been left up to individual members — from Jeff Flake to Mitt Romney to Adam Kinzinger to Liz Cheney — to take turns as the voice of opposition. But that approach, while noble on their personal parts, doesn’t work as a strategy — the failure of their colleagues to act with them just made the heroic ones easier individual targets. At no point has there been any meaningful effort for those forces within the GOP who don’t agree with the autocratic actions we’ve seen to engage in collective action.

I have heard Republican electeds make many arguments for why this is so, with one of them simply being that taking such a position would put them at odds with the majority of their voters. But as the first point about collective action makes clear, the only way to begin to change that public opinion is to create social proof in favor of democracy and the rule of law and against autocratic approaches. But that’s only possible if a critical mass who privately believe those things — and make no mistake, most elected Republican officials do — take collective action to make that case.

The stakes are higher than just saving institutions

This is where the lesson from history becomes clear. The real goal of collective action isn’t just to protect individual institutions — it’s to protect democracy itself.

The societies that survived authoritarian threats didn’t just rely on internal solidarity within the press, the courts, or academia. They succeeded because those institutions linked arms across sectors — forming a broad, popular front that transcended professional and even political boundaries.

• During the rise of fascism in Europe, the countries that resisted early — like Belgium and Finland — saw labor unions, political parties, and the press form coalitions to resist authoritarianism.

• During the fall of communism in Eastern Europe, independent press, labor unions, and the church supported each other — even when they disagreed on broader social issues.

• In South Korea’s 2016 “Candlelight Revolution,” the media, labor unions, and student groups worked together to force the impeachment of President Park Geun-hye.

Indeed, if there’s one clear dividing line between democracies that have survived recent illiberal populist autocratic movements (Poland, Brazil, Czech Republic) and those that have not (Hungary, Turkey, Venezuela), it’s whether a broad pro-democracy coalition came together across pre-existing divides to stand together for the most foundational elements of democracy. In the first set of countries, people of different policy preferences and institutional affiliations and backgrounds formed functional coalitions that worked together to shift the broader public away from illiberalism and back towards liberal democratic systems; in the latter set of countries, the opposition to autocracy fragmented and fell into infighting, allowing the autocratic movement to consolidate power and entrench itself.

That’s why the next step required here is clear: After institutions learn to defend themselves within their own sector, they need to defend each other across sectors and form a broad coalition on the side of freedom, democracy, and the rule of law. That’s how democratic resilience is built.

An attack on a law firm must provoke a response from universities and media outlets. An attack on a journalist must be met with legal action from the bar and peaceful protests from students. Labor unions – consistently a key piece of each of the successful anti-authoritarian movements noted above — must be protected and strengthened by others. This is how you raise the cost of autocracy — not by waiting for the next attack, but by forcing the autocrat to fight on every front at once.

So that is what is needed: a broad, cross-ideological and cross-sectoral, popular front coalition in opposition to autocratic governance and in support of democracy. An effective coalition would: (1) align on what issues and fights to prioritize; (2) coordinate its strategy for advancing democratic values and practices; (3) elevate key leaders; and (4) advance a clear narrative about democracy’s importance and autocracy’s failures.

This is how you bend public opinion. This is how you make democracy’s immune system fight back.

Autocrats succeed when their targets stay isolated. They fail when people and institutions unite. The choice is stark. Stay silent and watch the system collapse — or stand together and survive.

History shows which one works.

The only way out is together.

Since the November election, countless friends have asked me: “Who is going to really stand up to President Trump?”

National security officials stepped down. Members of the media sought to accommodate him. Businesses and tech companies sought to toe the president’s line on diversity initiatives, and billionaires literally lined up behind the president at his inauguration.

Subscribe now

Who will stand up?

“I think it’s going to be the nuns,” I told them.

I was in the right ballpark — or, rather, Cathedral.

During an interfaith prayer vigil at the Washington National Cathedral on Tuesday morning, Episcopal Bishop Mariann Budde delivered a homily on unity and mercy.

Toward the end of the sermon, she spoke directly to the president:

Let me make one final plea, Mr. President. Millions have put their trust in you. And as you told the nation yesterday, you have felt the providential hand of a loving God. In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country who are scared now. There are gay, lesbian and transgender children in Democratic, Republican, and Independent families, some who fear for their lives…

I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away. And that you help those who are fleeing war zones and persecution in their own lands to find compassion and welcome here. Our God teaches us that we are to be merciful to the stranger, for we were all once strangers in this land.

It was immediately clear that Bishop Budde had created a moment at the National Cathedral. Her words became headline news and were trending on social media platforms as her sermon fed a hunger that so many people had been feeling for someone, anyone in a position of power to speak out.

What happened next is what quashing dissent looks like

Backlash from the president and his supporters was swift. President Trump said: “She brought her church into the World of politics in a very ungracious way. She was nasty in tone, and not compelling or smart.”

He referred to her as a “so-called Bishop” on social media and demanded that she apologize to the public.

As Jack Jenkins reported in Religion News Service, Representative Mike Collins suggested that Budde should be deported. Rev. Franklin Graham called her a “socialist activist” and suggested she should not have even been in the Cathedral for the prayer service. Representative Josh Brecheen has even introduced a resolution in the U.S. Congress to condemn Bishop Budde.

For her part, Bishop Budde has been focused on moving on and going about her business. The rest of us, though, should take a moment to reflect — and to express our support.

Quashing dissent is one of the central tactics of the Authoritarian Playbook. By demanding an apology — and even calling her ordination into question — the president is trying to send a message not only to Budde but to potential detractors well beyond her pulpit: Criticize me, and you’ll be sorry.

Read more: Authoritarianism, explained

This tactic is nothing new. For instance, during the first Trump Administration, the Department of Homeland Security violated the religious freedom of Pastor Kaji Douša by targeting and retaliating against her for her ministry with migrants. And multiple recent actions point toward the weaponization of the federal government against citizens perceived as disloyal.

Share

The only way to defeat “anticipatory obedience” is to stand up together

The pattern of threats makes it even more important that Americans of all beliefs and ideologies stand up to defend Bishop Budde. Those of us who have theological or political disagreements with Bishop Budde (as I do!) have a particular obligation to speak out to defend her right to speak from her conscience in the Cathedral she oversees — and to do so free from harassment or intimidation.

Fortunately, there are plenty of examples of Americans coming to her defense. Over 40,000 people of faith (and counting) have signed a petition thanking her for her words. Episcopal denominational leaders expressed their support for her.

In the days since the prayer service, additional leaders have spoken out on similar issues to Bishop Budde. The heads of multiple national Catholic institutions (including those nuns, after all) released a statement that said Trump’s immigration executive order “strikes fear into the heart of our community, cynically layering a blanket of anxiety on families when they are worshiping God, seeking healthcare, and dropping off and picking up children at school.”

Houses of worship from various faith traditions are preparing to provide sanctuary to migrants.

“Anticipatory obedience,” the instinct to obey in advance, is a dangerous cycle — one that has unfortunately come to define leaders across many sectors of our society at this moment.

But as Shanna Singh Hughey writes, there are ways that we can avoid this cycle — including speaking out and building a broad network of support.

Ultimately, the sermon at the Cathedral was not about Bishop Budde; those who put the focus on her do so in an effort to distract from the point, which was mercy for vulnerable people. Bishop Budde provided — for all of us — the first step in avoiding a dangerous cycle in which we willingly yield power to authoritarian behavior.

As the president has moved beyond rhetoric about immigration and has shifted into taking illegal actions, it is up to all of us to follow Bishop Budde’s lead in calling for mercy — and a unity that is indeed based in human dignity. And we must continue the work of building as broad a coalition as possible to speak out on behalf of vulnerable people.

Share

In one of the lesser-noticed lines of Bishop Budde’s homily, she said: “For unity at times is sacrificial in the way that love is sacrificial — a giving of ourselves for the sake of another.”

The unity that our democracy requires right now is simple — as broad a coalition as possible, committing itself not only to defending Bishop Budde today but to defending others who have the courage to speak up in the future.

Our democracy’s survival will require sacrifice. We must be willing to do so with mercy, selflessness, and love.

We probably don’t need to tell you that — in the weeks after the 2024 election — there’s been a wave of discussion, debate, and uncertainty over how civil society will stand up to the authoritarian movement in the United States. Those debates are not settled. Nor should they be. The playbook is going to have to look different this time around, and protecting our democracy is going to take experimentation and innovation.

But regardless of what civil society mobilizations and movements look like, they should probably involve women in leadership roles. Why?

Subscribe now

Political scientists have documented an interesting pattern in mass movements fighting against authoritarianism in the U.S. and around the world: where women are on the frontlines of pro-democracy movements, those movements are more likely to succeed, and the movements’ success is more likely to result in a more equitable society.

But why? How?

Erica Chenoweth (an advisor to Protect Democracy) and their co-author Zoe Marks have studied this phenomenon in-depth, drawing on over 70 years’ worth of data about women’s frontline participation in global pro-democracy movements. (They also note that participation by people who openly identify as LGBTQ+ is so recent as to be hard to study, and that the data they draw on reproduces gender binaries.)

Their conclusions are striking. Check out how much more likely to succeed mass resistance campaigns are if they have women at the front lines:

Chenoweth and Marks point to at least five interconnected reasons why women’s participation and empowerment in anti-authoritarian movements is so important, and how it can translate into results for pro-democracy movements around the globe:

First, raw numbers — movements that do not or cannot draw in women and gender minorities leave behind a significant chunk of the population

To win, pro-democracy movements need to mobilize majorities, and history/global examples have shown these movements need to be broad and diverse along a whole range of identities to build a durable majority.

Over the past five years, Polish women and members of the LGBTQ+ community led the charge against their country’s illiberal rule after the co-opted Constitutional Tribunal restricted reproductive rights, resulting in the country’s largest public demonstrations since the fall of communism. This women-led mobilization influenced the pro-democracy coalition that ultimately defeated the autocratic Law and Justice party in the 2023 parliamentary elections. Without the successful mobilization of Polish women, the pro-democracy coalition would not have defeated the incumbent illiberal government at the ballot box.

Elsewhere, Ukrainian women played a central role in the 2013-2014 Euromaidan protests, which culminated in the ousting of the pro-Russian president. In Brazil, women helped build the pro-democracy electoral coalition that ousted autocratic president Jair Bolsonaro. Leading up to the 2022 presidential election, female leaders mobilized civil society and successfully drew an explicit connection between Bolsonaro's misogyny and other socioeconomic concerns held by the broader electorate. And while its effectiveness and inclusivity were hotly debated, the 2017 Women's March drew 3-5 million participants and indicated that women would be central to political organizing efforts during the first Trump administration.

It is no wonder, then, that those in the U.S.’s authoritarian movement, including the officials and activists who attempted to overturn the results of the 2020 election, have been building a pseudo-intellectual scaffolding for delineating narrow, racialized roles for women and gender minorities. As Chenoweth and Marks explain, by wholly “tying women’s value and worth to childbearing, parenting, and homemaking in a nuclear [heteronormative] household,” authoritarians “roll back [women’s] claims to public power,” and thereby entrench their own anti-democratic movements.

And while President-elect Trump has made several historic selections for staff and cabinet positions, those in the authoritarian movement have worked to sideline groups that might stand in the way of regressive policies that help them consolidate power. Indeed, adherents of the contemporary authoritarian movement coordinate with leaders like Hungarian strongman Viktor Orbán, whose "patriarchal populism” enforces traditional gender roles and undermines the rights of women and LGBTQ+ people — all in a bid to cement his own political power.

Second, women-led movements can harness tactical innovations

Because people are so often shoehorned into gendered roles in society, women’s participation and leadership in pro-democracy mass movements open the door to tactics that aren’t available to those performing masculine gender roles.

Think about the grandmothers protesting in Algeria, the cries of the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo in Argentina, and other forms of gendered non-cooperation.

In 2019, Algerian women joined protests against the country’s entrenched ruling party in “unprecedented numbers” — with older women in particular playing a key role in keeping the demonstrations peaceful. In their fight to restore a more open and democratic Algeria for their children and grandchildren, grandmothers encouraged peaceful sit-ins, cooked meals for protesters, and threatened to report bad behavior by police officers to their mothers.

During Argentina’s military dictatorship, the Mothers of the Plaza de Mayo became “walking billboards” to call attention to the mass disappearances of their loved ones at the hands of the repressive regime. In 1977, the mothers began protesting at the Plaza de Mayo in front of the presidential palace — screaming and weeping to demand answers. Their cries for justice brought international scrutiny to the disappearances, as they leaned into their identities as mothers “to legitimate their struggle” and emphasize the regime’s brutality.

Meanwhile, when gender roles are chosen and wielded by the women participating in public life rather than imposed upon by an authoritarian government, their identities can be transformed into pro-democracy tools. For example, social taboos against public violence toward women means the presence of women likely moderates the violence of police and other protesters, although those taboos apply unevenly across racial and social classes.

Third, women bring legitimacy to pro-democracy movements

It turns out that, thanks to longstanding gender stereotypes (e.g. that women are less violent, more caring, etc.), having large-scale women’s participation and leadership in anti-authoritarian movements can increase the perceived legitimacy of these movements in the eyes of the public at large, making them more likely to persuade others and expand the pro-democracy coalition. For example, Chenoweth’s research has shown that “nonviolent campaigns with high degrees of frontline women’s participation are likelier to elicit loyalty shifts from security forces,” a key achievement for non-violent pro-democracy movements.

This frontline participation, in turn, is more likely to arise in those movements with “gender-inclusive ideologies,” possibly because “gender-inclusive groups create lower barriers to entry for women participants, encouraging them to join such groups.” This stands in contrast to certain inside-the-beltway dogmas in the U.S., which have long held that political movements with gender-inclusive ideologies are unduly “divisive” and therefore less legitimate.

Fourth, women-led movements tend towards discipline and resilience, especially around violence

Mass movements are more likely to succeed when they have the discipline to reject violence and the resilience to outlast countermobilization and state violence or repression. Historical practice shows that when women are on the frontlines of pro-democracy movements, these movements are less likely to turn violent.

Consider Poland in 1980, when the retaliatory firing of welder Anna Walentynowicz precipitated the rise of the Solidarity movement, which emphasized inclusivity and non-violent tactics. It was the women of Solidarity who “found the formula” for managing a successful pro-democracy opposition, including the publication of its underground newspaper (aided in part by gender stereotypes that made their involvement underestimated by the secret police).

Similarly, in Belarus, protests in 2020 against the country’s autocratic president, Alexander Lukashenko, were led by three women at the forefront of a unified pro-democracy opposition. The mass demonstrations remained peaceful, and the opposition leaders appealed to a broader audience of conservatives by referencing the plight of their imprisoned relatives and shared family values. Despite increased repression since 2020, the Belarusian opposition is still largely led by Sviatlana Tsikhanouskaya and other female leaders from exile.

Fifth, women’s inclusion builds sustainable democratic reform

Not only are movements that include and empower women more likely to succeed — they also build better democracies, ones that are more egalitarian and resilient.

Here, U.S. history speaks loudly. Black women in the U.S. played a pivotal role in securing voting rights and transforming our country into a democracy. These women’s gendered and racialized experiences of authoritarianism — after all, the antebellum and Jim Crow South were perpetuated in significant part by the sexual and reproductive abuse of Black women and the destruction of Black families — were intertwined with their successful resistance and advocacy.

Rosa Parks’ refusal to give up her seat on a Montgomery bus and subsequent arrest in 1955 was part of a planned campaign conceived by the Women’s Political Council and rooted in the daily injustices Black women encountered on the city buses as they went to work, often in white homes and segregated businesses.

Black women likewise led the movement that resulted in the passage of the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Ella Baker, a longtime organizer for the NAACP and Southern Christian Leadership Conference, was among the first to recognize the value in harnessing the power of the young people who instigated the lunch-counter sit-ins of the early 1960s. Her efforts eventually led to the founding of the Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee, where she was the organizing force behind Freedom Summer and the founding of the Mississippi Freedom Democratic Party. Fannie Lou Hamer, a sharecropper with no formal education who harnessed her own experiences as a survivor of sexual abuse (including forced sterilization) to lead the voting rights movement, was a key participant in the latter. Hamer’s riveting testimony to the Democratic Party’s credentials committee in 1964 is widely regarded as a pivotal moment in the fight for passage of the Voting Rights Act. Notably, her graphic testimony about her own abuse at the hands of white men was key to its narrative power.

As Chenoweth and Marks write, “[i]t turns out that frontline participation by women is a significant advantage, both in terms of a movement’s immediate success and in terms of securing longer-term democratic change.”

Which brings us to a final question: why does the authoritarian movement seek gender retrenchment? (J.D. Vance’s mentor and biggest backer has even criticized the consequences of women being allowed to vote. And just before Pete Hegseth was nominated to serve as Secretary of Defense, he publicly stated that women should not be allowed to serve in combat roles — at a time when the military already faces a recruitment crisis).

That’s a big question with lots of different answers to it.

But at least part of the reasoning is clear: because women’s participation and leadership in democracy movements are part of how authoritarian movements fail. And how democracy survives.

Every few generations, our democracy comes to an inflection point. There are moments when the swirling forces of history come to a head and we Americans, collectively, get to decide whether to move towards a more perfect democracy. Or if our democracy moves backwards towards the lower points of American history.

The Civil War, the Women’s Suffrage Movement, the Civil Rights Movement, McCarthyism and the Cold War. In each chapter, past generations faced choices over whether to continue working to make our ideals real — or to abandon them. 

Subscribe now

In some moments, our country made better choices, in some it made worse ones. But in each, the consequences of those choices carried through history all the way to today. 

We are living through our pivotal moment. Right now. 

100 days from now, the 2024 election will be formally complete and we’ll be preparing — one way or another — for Inauguration Day and the next chapter of our democracy’s history. 

What happens in these next 100 days may well shape our democracy’s next 100 years. 

The choice is much bigger than between two candidates

Just like those prior moments in history, the question is: Will the progress of our democratic experiment continue? Or will it end? 

As in the Civil Rights Movement or McCarthyism or Reconstruction, that question overlaps with partisan politics. 

It matters immensely that one of the two presidential candidates has vowed to try to implement an explicitly authoritarian agenda of retribution and concentration of power. If Donald Trump gets elected, he has promised to: one, pack the government with loyalists willing to violate the Constitution; two, use “every power at [his] disposal” to wreak vengeance on his enemies; and three, entrench himself or his chosen successor in power indefinitely. 

But this is all also much bigger than who gets elected. There are other tests we must also pass in the next 100 days, other key questions that have consequences even beyond the next president. 

For example: 

• Will we hold a free & fair election? We are arguably more prepared to do so in 2024 than any election in American history — and, all the same, the people who sought to subvert the last election have made every indication they will try again. If they succeed in preventing or overturning a free and fair presidential election, that would represent the functional end of our 246-year experiment in self-governance. 

• Will we avoid violence and protect a peaceful transition of power? Four years ago, our country failed this test on January 6th. Twice during this campaign, an assassin targeted one of the candidates. Threats to election officials and voters remain unacceptably common. Ensuring that everyone can vote without the threat of violence — and that votes are counted accurately and safely and the next president takes power peacefully — is critical to the health of our democracy. 

• Will our institutions, our laws, and our Constitution be prepared to constrain the next president? Whomever it is We The People choose to sit in the Oval Office next year, that person will face a system of checks and balances that is battered and dysfunctional but not yet broken. Whether it holds — and if we can, together, begin to strengthen the guardrails — will determine if we leave our children a democracy or an autocratic presidency, regardless of whether we continue to hold meaningful elections going forward. 

• Will we have an opportunity to build toward a more resilient and inclusive democracy? In too many ways, our democracy is not working as it should: in many races, voters lack a true choice; large sets of Americans feel unrepresented by the major parties; trust in democratic institutions is in decline; and our democracy has never been as fully inclusive as the highest aspirations of our founding ideals. This election can be an inflection point that creates the opportunity to build toward a more perfect, representative, and resilient democracy.

Every little thing matters

One thing about a pivotal moment is you don’t know what will cause history to tip. And especially in an election poised to be so close — potentially decided by thousands, if not hundreds of voters — any little thing could make the difference. So, over the next 100 days, everything matters. Every. Single. Thing. 

Every person who signs up to be a poll worker? They could be the difference between their town’s election running smoothly and facing long lines or delays. 

Every journalist who chooses to use their word count to provide unbiased but not neutral coverage of threats to democracy? They could be the difference in how our country understands this moment. 

Every campaign volunteer who decides to put in a few extra hours knocking doors on a weekend? They could make the difference in who gets elected. 

Every member of Congress who chooses to take their constitutional oath seriously and decides to uphold a free and fair election? They could be the deciding vote against partisan attempts at subversion. 

Every social media user who pauses to verify that a news story is true before sharing it? They could make the algorithmic difference in a lie not going viral. 

Every politician who decides to put country over party and publicly expresses their support for pro-democracy candidates? They could help ensure the Constitution endures. 

Every religious leader who works to build faith in elections? They could shape whether their congregation has trust in our democracy.  

Every neighbor talking civilly with friends, every local business leader giving employees time off to vote, every online influencer going more than surface level, every judge and litigator putting partisanship aside, every teacher talking about civics in the classroom, every eligible voter doing absolutely whatever it is they need to do to make sure that — no matter the obstacles — they get to vote. 

Each of us matters. 

If we all put democracy first for the next 100 days, democracy will survive.

There's been a lot of talk of passing the torch this year, but the torch that ultimately matters most is with the electorate, not the candidates. 

Today, the median voter is Gen X. If trends continue, we may see more voters under 35 than over 65 in November. 

Subscribe now

What does this generational change mean for the future of American democracy?

Youth movements have often been the driving force behind democratic change. The Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s saw significant involvement from young people, particularly college-aged students of color, who organized sit-ins, freedom rides, and voter registration drives that fundamentally altered the political landscape in the United States. Similarly, young people in countries like Tunisia and Egypt played crucial roles in mobilizing for democratic reforms during the Arab Spring in the 2010s.

Here in the U.S., Gen Z’s activism, exemplified by the March for Our Lives after the 2018 Parkland shooting, shows how this generation — my generation — is not just engaged but capable of shaping national conversations on critical issues. This activism has translated into increased voter turnout in subsequent elections, suggesting that this generation’s political influence is only beginning to be felt. 

As we navigate this period of transformation, we can look at emerging demographic, cultural, and value-based shifts, as well as comparative historical examples, that may provide insight into how this generational change will shape the future of our democracy.

Gen Z voters are gaining influence quickly

In the 2024 election, 40.8 million members of Gen Z, aged 18-27, will be eligible to vote, including 8.3 million newly eligible voters since the 2022 midterm elections. And, according to vote.org​, over 1 million new voter registrations have been added in this cycle alone, 79% of which are voters under 35, and 34% of which are newly eligible 18-year-olds. 

According to a Harvard Youth Poll, 53% of eligible Gen Z voters plan to vote in the upcoming election, signaling strong civic engagement and a potential shift in their participation in the democratic process. 

And while there’s still a turnout gap by age — as there has been for decades — it’s closing fast. 

Source: Statista.com

It’s the issues, not the candidates

What’s striking about Gen Z voters is their focus on issues rather than political candidates. Numerous polls indicate that young voters are driven by their concerns over climate change, racial justice, and economic inequality. This focus on policy over personality is a crucial factor in understanding their political behavior. 

Historically, movements driven by young people, such as the People Power Revolution of 1986 in the Philippines, or the Velvet Revolution in Czechoslovakia, were driven by a broad-based demand for political freedom, support for the rule of law, and the restoration democratic governance. These movements transcended any particular leader or political candidate, and instead called for widespread and lasting systemic change.

Gen Z voters are increasingly shaping the direction of American democracy with their demands for substantial action. While there is evidence in recent polling that young people express disillusionment with the perceived inaction and dysfunction of democracy, their skepticism should be viewed less as a retreat from democratic ideals, and more as a desire for a more responsive and effective system. 

As Gen Z rises in influence, their push for action could breathe new life into our democratic institutions. 

Their participation, driven by an insistence on addressing the deeply embedded issues of inequity, discrimination, and oppression, could be the key to ensuring that our democracy evolves, helping to build a more resilient and responsive system that meets the needs of each successive generation.

Hope is a powerful generational driver

One of the most powerful drivers of civic engagement among young voters is hope. In a political environment too often dominated by pessimism, hope provides a counterbalance that can inspire and mobilize. Even a generation sometimes mocked for being detached or disillusioned is, at its core, driven by a hopeful vision of the future. 

Hope has historically been a critical element in democratic resilience. After World War II, the Marshall Plan symbolized hope for a war-torn continent and people yearning for a peaceful and prosperous future. Similarly, South Africa’s transition from apartheid regime to democracy in the 1990s was driven by a collective hope for a future free of racial oppression, a vision that inspired millions of young South Africans to engage in the political process.

In the U.S., the hope embodied by movements like the fight for marriage equality or the more recent push for comprehensive climate policy has been a significant force in driving political change. Gen Z’s hopeful outlook, paired with a demand for action, positions them as a vital force in ensuring that the the future of American democracy continues to evolve and address the needs of a diverse, multi-racial electorate. 

Looking ahead: risks and opportunities 

The rise of a more racially and ethnically diverse electorate, coupled with the hopeful and issue-driven approach of young voters today, presents both opportunities and challenges. On one hand, this shift holds the promise of accelerating positive, lasting change, potentially leading to a more inclusive and representative democracy. On the other, it brings with it the tension of political differences between younger and older voters, as well as the challenge of sustaining momentum for long-term reform.

However, it’s important to recognize a sobering reality: While Gen Z is more politically engaged than previous generations, recent polling indicates that some young voters are less committed to democracy, with some even expressing support for political violence or autocracy as a way to address societal frustrations.

This disillusionment stems from a perception democracy has failed to deliver meaningful change in their lives. In an era where every election is framed as “the most consequential of our lifetimes,” it’s understandable for many young people to feel tired of a system that seems mired in gridlock and inaction. 

Read: Protect Democracy’s work shaping the democracy of tomorrow

Yet the very qualities that drive skepticism for the long-term sustainability of democracy — demand for action, impatience for results, and the use of new media — are also what can propel democracy forward. Instead of simply pushing for greater engagement, it’s clear the solutions lie in substantive, systemic change that demonstrates democracy can truly work for this generation. By meeting Gen Z where they are, addressing their frustrations head-on, and fostering avenues for real change, we can harness their energy towards strengthening, rather than abandoning, democratic principles. 

Ultimately, the risks posed by disillusionment are outweighed by the bright spots we’ve already seen in Gen Z’s political activism. It’s incumbent upon all who participate in democracy — whether older generations, civic leaders, or activists — to work with young people to foster their belief in the power of reform, justice, and civic engagement. 

By helping Gen Z channel their frustrations into collective action and meaningful reform, we can ensure that democracy remains relevant and transformative, capable of addressing the needs of future generations.

History, as they say, is now in our hands.