How authoritarians use crime as a pretext
The ultimate cover-story in Hungary, Mexico, El Salvador, Russia, and beyond
As the Trump administration deploys federal agents and troops to America’s streets, the president and other officials continue to paint a picture of a country under the constant threat of violent crime.
Before deploying the National Guard to Washington, D.C., Trump falsely claimed that the capital had a higher homicide rate than “the worst places on Earth.” He called Chicago a “hellhole” and the “worst and most dangerous city in the [w]orld, by far.” And he’s vowed to end “savagery” in Memphis and even crack down on what he’s mischaracterized as crime-ridden Beverly Hills.
Crime is real, and it affects Americans from all walks of life. Despite major improvements over the past thirty years, crime still shapes how we understand public safety and our personal security. Ignoring this reality only empowers those who exploit genuine concerns about crime to advance their own agendas.
At the same time, crime is the autocrat’s favorite pretext for consolidating power. Around the world, they routinely use vague and hyperbolic claims of crime emergencies and the specter of chaos to justify power grabs — often bouncing from crisis to crisis until their demands for total power are met. Even in places where crime is a legitimate challenge, strongmen manufacture crises and stoke fear to centralize their authority and criminalize dissent altogether.
The White House is following the Orbán playbook
In Hungary, Prime Minister Viktor Orbán has perfected the modern playbook for dismantling democracy from within. During a meeting at the White House earlier this month, Trump praised Orbán for the “fantastic job” he’s done as prime minister, claiming that “he’s got no crime, he’s got no problems” and making clear that he intends to emulate Orbán’s approach to crime.
Indeed, Orbán has deftly exploited public safety concerns to carry out sweeping expansions of executive power, including his takeover of Hungary’s parliament, judiciary, and media.
By 2015, Orbán seized on Europe’s migrant crisis to consolidate even greater power. His rubber-stamp parliament passed legislation enabling the government to declare a broad “state of migration emergency” which he then used as a tool for executive overreach.
As part of this “emergency,” one proposed law would have allowed police to enter the home of any Hungarian citizen without a warrant in order to track down refugees. But facing public backlash, the government stepped back from the idea — only to later push for a different proposal that empowered military personnel and state security forces to “restrict personal liberty” during the emergency.
Hungary, like many of its neighbors, did in fact face a sharp influx of migrants. But Orbán took advantage of the crisis to tighten his grip on power.1 And it’s not clear that he ever intended to actually address the challenge at hand. A decade later, the so-called “state of migration emergency” remains in effect and has mostly served to legitimize Orbán’s myriad power grabs by disguising them as necessary crime-fighting tactics.
Orbán has increasingly used the force of law and allegations of criminality to target his political opponents. Last year, he established the Sovereignty Protection Office to pursue what U.S. officials have described as “draconian actions” against government critics. And new legislation would essentially criminalize anyone (including political parties) that the government deems a “threat” to national sovereignty.
For fifteen years, Orbán has framed his power grabs as efforts to “restore order” and protect public safety. But all of his tough-on-crime talk rings especially hollow given the reported corruption and lawlessness of his own inner circle, as is often the case with leaders unbounded by the rule of law.
Left-wing populists also deploy law-and-order appeals to build power
Mexico’s former president, Andrés Manuel López Obrador (aka AMLO), adopted a similar approach, using crime as a justification for centralizing and expanding the power of the state.
When AMLO took office in 2018, previous governments had failed to adequately address the scourge of organized crime across the country. Voters were understandably frustrated by the continued violence.
Though AMLO previously condemned the militarization of Mexican society, he ultimately deployed more troops nationwide than his predecessors and pushed for the creation of a new, highly militarized National Guard. To facilitate his vision of expanded military power, AMLO ignored court orders and broadened the military’s functions beyond its traditional national security responsibilities.
Even as he boasted (inaccurately) that his policies put an end to organized crime, AMLO continued arguing for the further militarization of law enforcement. But during his six years in office, the military had a mixed track record as a crime-fighting force. In some jurisdictions, crime actually rose after the arrival of federal troops. AMLO’s strategy was less a genuine effort to improve public safety than a bid to consolidate law enforcement power.
Successful crime reduction is popular
El Salvador’s Nayib Bukele has weaponized the politics of crime even more effectively. Prior to his 2019 election as president, El Salvador endured years of gang violence and one of the world’s highest homicide rates.
Once in office, Bukele militarized law enforcement and co-opted the judiciary to carry out his tough-on-crime agenda. In turn, he’s presided over the swift erosion of El Salvador’s already-fragile democracy. Throughout his “war on gangs,” civil liberties and individual freedoms have gone by the wayside as the state deploys arbitrary arrests and extrajudicial killings to go after alleged lawbreakers.
Though many Salvadorans credit Bukele for prioritizing public safety, he has used real fears about crime to justify his opportunistic power grabs.
Bolstered by high approval ratings, Bukele continues to construct what some view as an ascendant authoritarian regime under the banner of fighting crime. The country’s co-opted Supreme Court allowed Bukele to run for reelection in 2024 despite a previous constitutional ban on presidents serving two consecutive terms. This year, loyal lawmakers went a step further by amending the constitution to eliminate term limits altogether — cementing Bukele’s highly personalized system largely on the back of his tough-on-crime agenda.
Strongmen use crime to justify crackdowns on dissent
Beyond building popularity, “fighting crime” is an especially useful pretext for autocrats to sideline those standing up for democracy.
From Xi Jinping’s efforts to criminalize pro-democracy activists in Hong Kong to Nicolás Maduro’s use of state security forces to crush his “criminal” opponents, crime is a throughline for strongmen seeking to hold onto power.
In Turkey, longtime leader Recep Tayyip Erdoğan has held democracy hostage by expanding executive power, jailing journalists, and doling out arbitrary punishments for members of the political opposition. And when pro-democracy movements gain momentum, as they have over the past year in Georgia and Serbia, autocrats tend to manufacture false narratives of criminal behavior to target those speaking out. In doing so, they distract from their own violations of the rule of law and delegitimize those who threaten their grip on power.
And when it comes to leaders who cynically take advantage of fears about crime, I’d be remiss if I didn’t mention Vladimir Putin.
Since his election as president in 2000, Putin has built on the old Soviet practice of weaponizing the law against the Kremlin’s opponents. When he entered office following the chaos of the 1990s, he immediately played on the public’s frustrations with crime to construct his authoritarian power apparatus.
Under the guise of protecting public safety and national security, a wily Putin used various crises to consolidate power. In the aftermath of the 2004 Beslan hostage crisis, for instance, he abolished direct elections for regional governors and placed them under Kremlin control. To justify his power grab, Putin argued that the continued popular election of governors would impede the state’s efforts to fight crime.2
Over the past decade, “extremism” has become the new frontier of Putin’s law-and-order crusade. The Kremlin uses the “extremist” label as a catch-all to criminalize civil society groups, political opponents, and anyone who stands in contrast to Putin’s authoritarian vision. And since launching the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, Putin has escalated his tough-on-crime rhetoric and punitive crackdowns.
How to flip the script
Invoking crime is a tried-and-true vehicle for authoritarians who want to consolidate and hold onto power. These leaders are adept at capitalizing on chaos and fear for their own gain.
Here’s how we might use these lessons from abroad to think about countering the autocrat’s playbook on crime:
Pro-democracy allies should beat the drum on how the autocrat’s punitive crackdowns leave everyone less safe — not only the immediate victims of autocratic abuses but all of us. Public safety can be a galvanizing issue for an opposition committed to the rule of law, equal protection, and effective governance.
Where it’s clear that allegations of crime are either exaggerated or manufactured, speak out early to prevent the autocrat’s narrative from taking hold. It’s possible to both acknowledge the importance of combating actual crime and unequivocally reject the autocrat’s lies.
The more effective that local leaders are in addressing legitimate public safety concerns from their constituents, the harder it becomes for the autocrat to exploit fears in service of their power grabs. When crime is, in fact, prevalent in a community and the public believes that local leaders aren’t taking it seriously, it’s easier for the autocrat’s pretextual justifications to take hold.
It’s critical that the public not come to view the autocrat and his enablers as the only ones interested in and capable of keeping us safe. That’s how people might get more comfortable giving up freedoms for a false sense of security.
Even if public safety is a legitimate priority for voters — as it is in the U.S. — it’s clear that autocrats care more about consolidating their own power than keeping the people safe.
Their overreach and abusive actions often leave us more vulnerable in the end.
Almost immediately, Orbán conflated the arrival of migrants with that of terrorists — “[e]very single migrant poses a public security and terror risk” — to justify further power grabs and crackdowns.
In 2012, the Kremlin re-introduced elections for regional governors as a concession to pro-democracy forces. But Putin maintains tight control over the entire process, and once elected, governors are largely beholden to his whims.
 | A guest post by
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The flipping of the script needs to start with every citizen, city, county, area/region and state. Preemptively and loudly in public and to the autocrat, address that crime or immigration is under control. No troops are needed. Flipping the script is controlling the narrative. It is what is needed.
Echos of Tricky Dick's "War on crime" and "Law and order" pitches all those decades ago, but still with legs.