Latin America provides fertile soil for the far right, right-wing populism, and authoritarianism. Self-proclaimed strongmen invoke an alleged communist threat and the loss of traditional values, using established yet often fragile democracies as springboards for seizing power. Highly conservative elites, extreme inequality, and a predominantly Christian view of the family foster a backward-looking perspective that facilitates those efforts.
Andreas Behn directs the Rosa Luxemburg Foundation’s São Paulo Office.
Meanwhile, this new-right wave has gained significant influence in almost every South American country. Despite many local differences, that influence is growing due to active networking. Both centre-right and centre-left parties are struggling to develop formulas for combatting these far-right tendencies. Many elections in recent years have been head-to-head contests between candidates who favour democracy versus those that are rather more authoritarian, as has also been the case in the US and numerous European countries.
Brazil: A Religious-Political Alliance
Thus far, the biggest milestone in this trend has been the election of far-right politician Jair Bolsonaro as president of Brazil in 2018. The surprising win by the long-time parliamentary backbencher was not the result of years of political planning, but rather the last act of a bitter power struggle between the left-wing Brazilian Labour Party (PT) and traditional conservative parties. After 16 years of PT governance, this led to President Dilma Rousseff’s removal from office and, shortly thereafter, the imprisonment of former President Luiz Ignácio Lula da Silva.
Triumphant, the conservatives hoped to finally win the subsequent elections, but that is not what happened: the candidate for the Brazilian Social Democracy Party (PSDB), once the country’s most important conservative, pro-business party, received less than 5 percent of the votes, while the PT candidate made it to the run-off, where he was soundly defeated by Bolsonaro.
In retrospect, this dramatic episode reveals several factors and tendencies that remain crucial to the regional spread of authoritarian positions today. The discrediting of politics and the established party system began not with right-wing populist hate speech, but rather with the desperate effort by politicians and conservative mass media — who are, in theory, both pro-democracy — to use every conceivable means to vilify the PT government. With that groundwork already in place, all it took was Bolsonaro’s fake news campaigns just a few weeks before the election — disseminated especially via the messaging service WhatsApp — to convince enough undecided voters that Brazil needed his strong hand to ward off the country’s destruction.
Bolsonaro’s strident provocations, his racist and misogynist agitation, and the farce of his anti-elite rhetoric caught on because the democratic stability arduously constructed since the 1990s was built on shaky ground.
Another factor that Bolsonaro exploited, but the centre-right ignored, was the economic crisis that erupted in 2015. Although the economic downturn was only partly Rousseff’s responsibility, the opposition took full advantage, and the conservative congress enacted dubious initiatives to further fan the flames. Millions of economically disadvantaged people who had previously benefited from the PT’s social policies, some of whom had definitely made social gains, shifted their support to Bolsonaro, whose empty promises seemed to offer better prospects.
The everyday phenomenon of more and more new cars being emblazoned with bumper stickers exclaiming “Jesus gave it to me!” was emblematic of this shift. There is no question that it was Lula’s economic and social policies between 2003 and 2010 that ended hunger in Brazil and made social progress possible for millions of people. However, those gains were suddenly ascribed to faith and having a certain religious orientation: that of the Pentecostal churches that, unlike Bolsonaro, had been building support for decades, establishing trust particularly among the poorest Brazilians, and propagating an individualistic conception of economic success, alongside a very traditional view of the family. The religious-political alliance between the Pentecostal churches, the more conservative sections of the Catholic church, and Bolsonaro’s rather profane milieu — he is Catholic, but was baptized by a Pentecostal minister in the River Jordan in 2016 — was decisive in the election, as it disrupted Lula’s electoral base.
Bolsonaro’s strident provocations, his racist and misogynist agitation, and the farce of his anti-elite rhetoric caught on because the democratic stability arduously constructed since the 1990s was built on shaky ground. Insecurities and a new inequality, crises, and new promises of salvation came together to create a context ripe for experiments and backwards-looking cultural upheaval.
There was also the international context. Even in somewhat remote Brazil, the Trump model, as well as Brexit and other right-wing populist tendencies around the world, led a has-been ex-military officer, whom his supporters hail as a “myth”, to suddenly become the head of state. The fact that it happened in the regional power, which also serves as a paragon of both culture and football — former superstar Neymar was directly involved in campaigning for Bolsonaro — sent shockwaves throughout Latin America.
Argentina: Politics with a Chainsaw
Another example of a strongman is Javier Milei in neighbouring Argentina. He emerged, seemingly out of thin air, to become the polemic figure in the presidential elections of late 2023, before pulling off his surprise victory. His boastful rhetoric, peppered with hateful tirades and exclusionary comments, almost makes Bolsonaro look moderate. His clamorous discourse is backed up by a chainsaw, which has become his emblem and with which he wants to dismember the democratic system and, above all, its half-developed welfare state.
Like Bolsonaro, no one can accuse him of making false promises: no sooner was he in office than he began to make good on his promises regarding politics and the economy. Since then, Argentina has descended into a social crisis with increasing poverty and hunger. Then again, supporters of liberal economic policy celebrate that as unavoidable medicine, without which the once wealthy country would never find its way out of the crisis.
Before Milei’s rise, Argentina was also stuck in a protracted economic crisis that deprived many people of prospects, particularly among the poorer classes. The centre-left Peronists in government prior to Milei were unable to develop a formula for combating the downward spiral. The same goes for the conservative opposition, which, similar to Brazil in 2018, partly supported the new project of authoritarian governance. Another parallel: Milei also picked up a lot of support among left-leaning voters — in the poorer segments of the population and even more so among young voters, whose social media posts indicate they see him as nothing short of a messiah.
Unlike in Europe, elections are often decided by preferences for particular figures, rather than political or ideological programmes.
In 2021, the third example of a far-right mobilization seeking to delegitimize the political system in the midst of democratic elections also took place in Latin America’s Southern Cone. However, in Chile, right-wing extremist José Antonio Kast lost decisively in the run-off, failing to win even 45 percent of the votes. The president is the former activist Gabriel Boric, who (unlike in Brazil or Argentina) did not represent the continuation of a crisis-prone political system, but rather a fresh option. Consequently, he offered an electable alternative to right-wing populism, particularly for young voters.
Nonetheless, Kast and his ultraconservative milieu achieved better than decent results. They continued mobilizing their broad and growing base, always referencing the military dictatorship under Augusto Pinochet (1973–90) and themes like family values, economic liberalism, and security. Kast made greater strides in 2023, and his party won the Constitutional Council elections, putting an end to an effort to reform the Chilean Constitution written under Pinochet.
Modern-Day Caudillos
In Central America, El Salvador is likewise under the authoritarian rule of a strongman. Nayib Bukele reached the country’s highest public office in 2019 and was re-elected with an overwhelming majority in February 2024. The centrepiece of his governmental policy is a ruthless approach to crime and gangs, which had previously plunged the small country into a deep social crisis.
The situation differs from the authoritarian tendencies in the Southern Cone, but there are parallels. As part of his constitutionally highly dubious approach to crime (which human rights organizations have denounced, but are celebrated by most of the population), he has brought the judiciary and parts of the political system under his personal control. The lack of democratic oversight and Bukele’s populist rhetoric regarding the need for a strong hand are opening the door to an authoritarian landscape similar to the conditions in Hungary under Viktor Orbán or Turkey under Recep Erdoğan.
In Costa Rica, another country in the Central American isthmus, Rodrigo Chaves came to power in 2022. He also described himself as an outsider and talked about “putting the house in order” and ending politics as usual. His rhetoric is less radical, but often shot through with sexist innuendo and peppered with criticism of elites and left-wing culture. Because Chaves is regarded as a serious economist, his government is also construed as an attempt to give right-wing populist governments a less extreme veneer.
In Latin America, there is a historical model for strongmen who attempt to take power through elections and then, as advertised, dismantle democratic institutions and replace them with right-wing authoritarian structures. The history of the entire region has been marked by what are known as caudillos: charismatic, usually populist leaders, often with military backgrounds. For that reason, unlike in Europe, elections are often decided by preferences for particular figures, rather than political or ideological programmes.
However, a second model that leads to an expansion of authoritarian and right-wing populist tendencies in governance can also be identified in Latin America’s current new-right wave. This comprises governments and parties that come from the traditional conservative, economically liberal spectrum, yet increasingly take advantage of the right-wing zeitgeist to shore up or expand their power. A parallel development can be seen in Europe: in Spain’s former ruling party, the conservative Partido Popular, which now openly works with the far right, or Germany’s Christian Democratic Union and Free Democratic Party, which have made right-wing positions socially acceptable in light of a shift to the right and the success of Alternative für Deutschland (AfD).
Latin America’s Political Spectrum Is Shifting
Current examples of traditional right-wing parties or coalitions shifting toward right-wing authoritarian positions include the governments of Paraguay, Uruguay, and Ecuador. The ultraconservative Colorado Party, which has governed Paraguay for decades with only a brief interruption, has split into several factions. In order to safeguard his power in both the country and his party, President Santiago Peña is increasingly turning to right-wing populist rhetoric, targeting democratic oversight and a putative threat to Christian values. His biggest bogeyman has been the concept of gender, although gender democracy efforts in Paraguay have been hopelessly on the defensive for years.
In Uruguay, President Luis Lacalle Pou has opened the door to far-right positions. Pou himself comes from the traditional liberal-conservative party spectrum. In his 2019 electoral victory, he failed to achieve the parliamentary majority he needed to displace the left-wing Frente Amplio, which had been in power for 15 years, so the far-right party Cabildo Abierto joined the governing coalition. Its leader, former military officer Manini Ríos, uses government channels as a stage for his culture war against the left and downplays the atrocities of the military dictatorship. Meanwhile, Pou has loudly taken on the mantle of being an antithesis to the left-wing, social democratic governments in the region (Brazil since 2023, Chile, Colombia, Honduras, and Mexico).
Beyond the usual fake news, the extreme right also consistently turns to culture war issues: all the socio-political achievements of recent decades are vilified. Both equality and diversity are considered obstacles on the path back to the good old days.
President Daniel Noboa of Ecuador also represents the traditional party spectrum. Although he presented himself as being on the centre-left during his 2023 electoral campaign, opposition figures classify his statements about fighting corruption and liberalizing the economy as more akin to right-wing populism. He had barely taken office when a wave of organized crime rolled across the country as a result of the regional drug trade. Noboa responded by declaring a state of emergency, deploying the military, and expanding his own executive authority, recalling Bukele’s formula for success in El Salvador.
The Legacy of Colonialism
There are historical reasons why Latin American societies offer fertile ground for right-wing authoritarian tendencies. With respect to both its politics and its values, the region has had a conservative orientation for over 500 years now.
On one hand, this is due to its extremely violent colonization, which initially led to the formation of a merciless rural oligarchy, then to a caste of rich families and family businesses, and finally to the dominance of elites representing US interests, whose reactionary worldview cemented extreme social inequality in every country in the region. Most of the population suffered under feudal power relations or, in the Atlantic region, under slavery.
On the other hand, the Catholicism imported by the Iberian colonizers implemented conservative values and norms, which remain the prevailing moral code, particularly among the poorer classes. The growing influence of Pentecostal churches, which have been spreading from the US across Central and South America for over 40 years via Guatemala and Brazil, is also reinforcing the tilt toward “traditional” family values and individual conceptions of salvation.
When far-right movements and right-wing populist parliamentarians reference that past — and sometimes even the military dictatorships of the 1970s and 1980s — they do so in a manner that is essentially positive. In that context, racist, transphobic (or “gender-critical”), or misogynist statements become divinely ordained postulates, as does criticism of the democratic state, which intrudes on the lives of normal people without permission, or the globalized elites, who throw traditions out of balance.
Human rights and now even simple labour rights are regarded as tools used by leftists or communists who want to plunge states into destitution. Beyond the usual fake news, the extreme right also consistently turns to culture war issues: all the socio-political achievements of recent decades are vilified. Both equality and diversity are considered obstacles on the path back to the good old days.
Polarization Will Remain
If we look back on less than ten years of new-right trends in Latin America, we see a largely familiar spectrum of positions, a diversity of pathways and detours toward attaining political power, and a great deal of potential to generate popular political support. At present, it is scarcely possible to summarize the far right’s experiences of power in the region. Bukele in El Salvador is something of an outlier in a small country and Milei’s chainsaw has only been raging for eight months in Argentina. Yet Bolsonaro’s four years in power in Brazil only offer clues as to the question of whether the new-right wave will break against the barriers of governmental responsibility.
Brazil survived Bolsonaro’s presidency relatively unscathed. Its institutions and democratic system held up and there was no explicit wave of repression. Participation, democratic oversight, and social progress were significantly weakened, but were quickly brought back on track with the inauguration of the new government. Just as Bolsonaro was voted into power, he was likewise voted out again in 2022, if only by a razor-thin margin.
This is only one of many parallels with Trump in the US: in both cases, their terms of office were successful to the extent that about half of each country’s population would have preferred to keep the right-wing populist model into the future. Thus, they both established enormous social bases with a sometimes fanatical belief in the propagandized principles. They both protested against their electoral defeats with unsuccessful attacks by their supporters on buildings that house democratic institutions, without causing significant harm to the instigators. The mood in both countries is polarized, sometimes to the point that friends and families avoid political topics whenever possible. In both Brazil and the US, the two leaders are ginning up right-wing populist politics so they can reclaim power as soon as possible.
This scenario presents left-wing and democratic forces with a major challenge with respect to planning out alliances in future.
Such parallels mean that the far right has long been constructing international networks. In the process, Latin American authoritarians have aligned themselves in two historically predefined directions: toward the Spanish colonial power and toward the powerful neighbour in the north, namely the United States. That is the home of the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC), which regularly organizes networking events in major Latin American cities with the constant participation of the Bolsonaro clan. Well-heeled “think tanks” are another vehicle for turning far-right concepts into political practice.
In Spain, it is primarily the far-right party Vox that is bringing fellow travellers from Latin America to the table. Their foundation, Disenso, has coined the term “Iberosphere” to redefine the former sphere of influence. The interconnections are many and difficult to summarize, particularly given that new points of contact are continually being established. For instance, Milei’s ultra-liberalism has brought numerous apologists for neoliberalism into the fold, particularly in Germany. In June, when he was honoured in Hamburg by the Hayek Society, which has very close relations with the AfD, German liberals praised Milei’s approach to pruning the Argentinian state via chainsaw.
The fact that Lula da Silva managed to prevent a second Bolsonaro term in October 2022 has thus far been the greatest victory against the authoritarian right in Latin America. He owes his third term to more than just his good reputation and charisma. Without the widespread unification of all the left-wing factions behind his candidacy, and without his broad electoral coalition, which extended far into the right of the political spectrum, Bolsonaro would have undoubtedly come out on top.
This scenario presents left-wing and democratic forces with a major challenge with respect to planning out alliances in future. Moreover, it has thus far failed to expose the greatest contradiction in the right-wing populist narrative: regardless of whether right-wing populists swear by liberalism or strengthening the national economy, their economic policy is always business-friendly and opposed to the welfare state — which is to say that it is oriented against precisely the segment of the population from which they are picking up crucial votes. Accordingly, it will certainly be intriguing to observe how Milei’s popularity evolves in the coming years.
Translated by Joe Keady and Rowan Coupland for Gegensatz Translation Collective