Introduction

 The rise of radical right populist parties and figures is one of the defining stories of our time, with their standard bearer parties emerging from the fringes and into the mainstream over recent years in response to the growing salience of certain policy issues and discontent with traditional political parties. Populist actors are identifiable by their engagement in a style of rhetoric which identifies a mutually antagonistic relationship between a ‘corrupt’ establishment and a ‘pure’ people. Radical right populists, as the dominant (as well as most troubling) variant, add to this a nativistic perspective focused on protecting ‘in’ groups from ‘outsiders’ and a concerning distaste for elements of liberal democracy.

Their electoral success has been varied and remarkable, with governments in East and Western Europe, Latin America, and now the United States led by parties (or at least directly elected Presidents), who fit comfortably within the radical right bracket. They are also shaping the approaches of mainstream parties. While previous scholarship has focused predominantly on the effects of populists to parties and party systems, we are now in a position to begin making observations about the consequences of populist governments on policy outputs, and the way these interact with other features of political and policymaking systems. This article explores these dynamics as they relate to immigration policy.

Populism in power: authoritarianism and nativism

Populists in office tend to use their power to accumulate more power, through acts of executive fortification, the disempowerment of mediating public and civil society institutions, and seeking to control public discourse. They may also seek to engage in ‘illiberal’ policymaking, which encompasses ‘forging’ (of a new ‘morality’ politics), ‘bending’ (legally permissible but anti-democratic innovations), and ‘breaking’ (the straightforward breaking of domestic or international law). The playbook has been deployed to varying extents, but most notably in Hungary and Poland. A version is currently being deployed by President Trump. Such reforms, cumulatively, have a deleterious impact on the public realm, and can facilitate processes of ‘democratic backsliding’ such as through the strengthening of the executive, the disempowerment of mediating institutions, and the growth of corruption and clientelism.

One policy area that has been a substantial site of innovation for radical right populists is immigration. This is understandable, given that it is an issue upon which such parties depend to a large extent for public and electoral support. The increasing diversity of contemporary societies, a perception of societal and economic decline, and widely held and longstanding xenophobic and racist attitudes are easily mobilised by radical right populist leaders and other actors, such as media and campaigners. The related issue of those fleeing conflict or oppression as refugees also motivates such politicians, particularly when a rising tide of conflict in Syria, Libya, Afghanistan, Ukraine, Palestine, and elsewhere creates increasing numbers of those in need of asylum. The legal infrastructure, usually of international origin but implemented domestically, provides both an exemplification, to populists, of the skewed priorities of the elite and opportunities to transgress institutional boundaries in the name of the ‘people’. Therefore, we might ask what happens when radical right populist figures become key players in immigration policy - and particularly when they take ‘control’ of immigration portfolios?

The UK case: the Rwanda Scheme

While not on the face of it an obvious case for an analysis of radical right populism in government, given the country’s longstanding two-party centre right/left duopoly, the UK’s recent experience is highly relevant. Despite the Conservative Party’s reputation as a mainstream centre-right political party, the post-Brexit period saw a considerable embrace of rhetoric and policies associated with the radical right, often under pressure from more straightforwardly radical right parties such as UKIP and the Brexit Party/Reform UK. In 2022, the Prime Minister Boris Johnson, who took inspiration from Donald Trump in his political approach, announced the creation of a new partnership agreement with the government of Rwanda.

The plan was to deport asylum seekers to Rwanda, where their applications for asylum would be processed. If successful, however, they would remain in Rwanda, and not return to the UK. While initially piloted by the right-wing Priti Patel, under the premierships of Liz Truss and Rishi Sunak, Suella Braverman served as Home Secretary. Braverman, in her rhetoric and approach, more closely fits the bill of a radical right politician than a mainstream Conservative and became closely associated with the scheme. She would emphasise the importance of the scheme in fulfilling the government’s agenda to ‘stop the boats’ – a reference to the countless ‘small boat crossings’ via France made, at incredible personal risk.

There were legal and political obstacles to its implementation, as acknowledged at the outset of the scheme’s introduction by Boris Johnson. Indeed, successive legal challenges would demonstrate this with the UK Supreme Court ruling in 2023 that due to concerns over refoulement – the potential for the Rwandan government to return asylum seekers to their (unsafe) countries of origin – the plan should not be allowed to go ahead. Braverman resigned in anticipation of the judgment, citing the Government’s insufficient willingness to see the scheme through to fruition. She has since toyed with joining Nigel Farage’s Reform UK. In 2024, the Conservatives were running out of time politically, but the government, by this point led by Rishi Sunak, legislated to designate Rwanda, for the purposes of UK law, a ‘safe country’. Even this did not clear the way for the scheme to be enacted.

The 2024 General Election brought down the curtain on 14 years of Conservative government, and at least 8 while the party had been transitioning into what Tim Bale has described as an ersatz radical right party. Not a single flight to Rwanda – an event that had developed a totemic quality, as if its occurrence would magically equate to a renaissance of Conservative popularity – would ever take off. Labour cancelled the scheme as one of its first acts in office. Braverman would blame “foreign courts” and the UK’s politically independent Civil Service for its failure. The ultimate political benefactor was not the Conservatives; rather, it was Nigel Farage’s Reform UK, which was seen as the more credible party on anti-immigration policy, and which performed very strongly at the General Election in 2024.

The Italian ‘Closed Ports’ Policy

 The Italian example provides a more textbook case of radical right populism in action. Matteo Salvini became Italy’s immigration minister following the country’s parliamentary elections in 2018, which saw the formation of a ‘double populist’ government incorporating both his Lega party and the Five Star Movement. The government emerged following a process of negotiation. While the government was led by Guisseppe Conte, a member of neither party, Salvini was given, in addition to the Deputy Premiership, the immigration portfolio.

The Lega had become well known for its nativist rhetoric and uncompromising anti-system style, and had gained popularity in part due to its tough stance on immigration policy, itself in turn buoyed by a perceived and actual increase in immigration, Italy’s geographic position as one of the first ‘ports of call’ for Mediterranean crossings, and longstanding public dissatisfaction with the established parties of the country’s political mainstream. Growing its appeal and broadening its geographical focus, the Lega had begun life as a vehicle for Northern Italian resentment against the poorer, less industrialised south, but has increasingly become a vehicle for political discontent and nativism on a national scale. Immigration was the issue that clinched its emergence as a serious competitor for power, in part owing to its agenda-setting power within the party system as the voice of the disenfranchised and disenchanted.

Shortly after his appointment to office, Salvini announced a ‘closed ports’ policy, whereby Italian ports were banned from allowing vessels that had rescued migrants from disembarking. This was done in the name of security, but also, ostensibly, to save the lives of those who made the journey. The decision created a scenario whereby vessels such as the SOS-Mediterranée’s Aquarius, which had rescued over 600 seaborne migrants, were left stranded at sea. One rationale was to create pressure for other countries to shoulder a greater share of the ‘burden’ caused by attempted crossings, most notably Spain and Malta. Such efforts had a moderate degree of success, at least on one crude metric, with Spain’s Prime Minister unexpectedly agreeing to receive the vessel. However, the move also caused extraordinary controversy, with kickback from the country’s military and civil services, and a chain of political and legal resistance which would end up with Salvini being placed on trial for kidnapping in 2024 for refusing to allow a vessel operated by the charity Open Arms to dock in Sicily back in 2019.

The ports policy was enacted as part of the 2018 Salvini Decree, legitimised in Parliament. Most notably it abolished humanitarian protection status, reducing the number of migrants eligible to stay in Italy legally. It also tightened citizenship laws, increased the speed of deportations, and reduced funding for local reception centres. Salvini would lose office following the dissolution of the agreement between his party and M5S (with Conte continuing as Prime Minister). Under his successor, Mario Draghi, a more conventional approach would predominate. However, Salvini returned to office, again as Deputy Prime Minister (but without the immigration portfolio) under the premiership of Giorgia Meloni, the leader of a different radical right populist party, the Brothers of Italy. Under Meloni and Salvini, the government has again introduced ‘tougher’ measures, including limiting accessibility to ports by rescue vessels. Meloni’s government, too, has sought to negotiate deals with third countries, such as Tunisia, Libya, and Albania (all countries well represented amongst those who travel to Italy).

Radical right populism and policy failure

Both innovations are clear examples of policy failure – though there are nuances. Marsh and McConnell’s framework provides a straightforward means of exploring the dimensions of policy success, broken down into the ‘process’, ‘programme’, and ‘political’ dimensions. ‘Process’ relates to the ability of the government or actor in question to enact their policy measure in line with their original intentions. ‘Programme’ relates to the policy’s success in achieving its substantive goals. ‘Political’ refers to the effect it had on the political fortunes of the party, individual, or groups most associated with it. The framework provides a useful means of exploring the unusual interplay of success measures and political fortunes, and in particular the way that apparent failure can actually represent a twisted form of success, when populists are in power.

In the case of the UK, the Rwanda scheme undoubtedly marks a particularly stark case of policy failure on the ‘process’ and ‘programme’ dimensions. As regards ‘process’, the policy was simply never enacted. This was due to a number of factors, some logistical, but mainly related to the obvious illegality of the scheme, which stood in direct contrast to the UK’s domestic and international legal obligations. As a result, not a single asylum seeker was sent to Rwanda for processing under the scheme. Further, in anticipation of the scheme being implemented, an enormous backlog of asylum seekers built up, at large fiscal cost. ‘Programme success’ was therefore impossible, other than as a hypothetical deterrent, where it was not remotely successful.

As regards ‘political’ failure, the situation is more complex. While the Rwanda scheme was never overtly popular (based on opinion polling) it did achieve some popularity in political target areas, known colloquially as the ‘red wall’, where voters had backed Brexit in 2016 and ‘come over’ to the Conservatives in 2019. While Braverman’s reputation would be damaged by the fiasco, and the Conservatives would lose office in dramatic and decisive manner in July 2024, it did have two consequences that are notable here: firstly, the embrace of radical right populist anti-migration policy could be blamed on ‘liberal’ constraints, such as the UK’s Human Rights Act and international law. Further, the country’s civil service was blamed for many of the setbacks. Therefore, failure could be blamed on a corrupt elite, who stood in the way of the people’s will for a tougher policy (and an end to small boat crossings). Secondly, failure here also arguably helped to pave the way for a record showing from Reform UK, who strongly supported the Rwanda scheme and embodied an even more fulsome advocacy of anti-asylum, refugee, and migrant policies.

A similar dynamic can be identified in Italy. In ‘process’ terms, the policy was approved by the Cabinet and enacted as legislation before it was subject to innumerable legal challenges, and eventually saw Salvini placed on trials. In ‘programme’ terms, a slight reduction in landings did follow, but thereafter, organisations who facilitate such journeys adapted their tactics. ‘Illegal’ migration continues on a similar scale to before. More so than in the UK, however, the policy represented an instance of ‘political’ success, with high popularity for the scheme, and subsequent strong election results for the Lega party, specifically in the 2019 European Parliament elections. Though Salvini would lose his status as the leader of the radical right in Italy to Meloni and his star would fall somewhat, he would take office as her Deputy Prime Minister. In each case, other political parties on the right benefited from the heightened salience of the issue, even if they themselves did not. Thus, in each case, there is a form of vindication, and the populist immigration minister can argue that their attempts to speak for the people by stopping immigration were thwarted by a corrupt elite and system.

An unvirtuous circle

Radical right populists gain power because they promise to enact nativist policies on immigration, struggle to achieve anything substantive, but vindicate their own rhetoric of elite failure. Opposition to immigration is cultivated by radical right parties and figures, who benefit politically. Over time, they enter government, often with a perceived mandate to act in draconian and semi-legitimate ways. Their policy approaches do not succeed, typically due to the highly contested legal and political factors at play. This seems to confirm populist rhetoric directed at corrupt elites, ‘blobs’, foreigners, and courts.

This apparent vindication helps to fuel support for populist right parties and rhetoric (even if not the self-same actors), locking contemporary political systems into a destructive cycle whereby mainstream parties compete with their anti-system competitors in a contest they cannot easily win. Breaking this cycle will require bravery on the part of establishment parties, and particularly those which have historically sought to advocate for marginalised groups and for international law. However, the political incentives not to do this are strong. Indeed, the best we may realistically be able to hope for is competent administration of a restrictive but humane system, whereby countries abide by their obligations without great fanfare, and seek to divert attention to more mundane, bread-and-butter issues, and in doing so, help to address some of the substantive drivers of this kind of politics.