Populism, Fear, and the Fragility of Democracy: Trump, Modi, and the Global Challenge

 

Populism, Fear, and the Fragility of Democracy: Trump, Modi, and the Global Challenge

The world often underestimates the impact of leaders like Donald Trump in the United States or Narendra Modi in India. Their rise is not simply a matter of domestic politics; it reverberates across borders, shaking democratic institutions, altering economies, and reshaping the global order. To treat them as isolated cases is to miss the larger pattern: the emergence of a style of leadership that thrives on fear, division, and spectacle, while steadily eroding the foundations of democracy.

There is a reason many have compared Trump’s ascent to the rise of Hitler. The fear is not unfounded. History rarely repeats itself in exact form, but it does echo in ways that should unsettle us. What happened in Weimar Germany was born of anger, grievance, and institutional weakness conditions not unlike those exploited by Trump in the United States and Modi in India. The difference, of course, is scale. The United States and India are too vast and complex for a single leader to dictate the mass elimination of people, but the danger lies elsewhere. When populism normalizes authoritarian instincts, when institutions bend under political pressure, and when the media becomes either complicit or delegitimized, democracy itself becomes brittle.

It is important to recognize that this process did not begin with Trump. In many ways, it began with the 2000 U.S. presidential election, when the Supreme Court halted the Florida recount and effectively handed the White House to George W. Bush. That decision, which overrode a state process in a case where the Court arguably had no business interfering, sent a message: elections in the United States could be decided not at the ballot box, but through the courts and the machinery of government. It was a turning point that conservatives absorbed clearly. Trump later exploited this precedent, understanding that institutions could be bent to serve power if the political will was there.

For those who wonder why Democrats have not acted decisively to stop this slide, the answer lies partly within the party itself. White Democrats have often resisted ceding real influence to minorities within their own coalition. As a result, they have been less alarmed at Trump’s rise than one might expect, knowing that power struggles within their party are as much about control as principle. Corruption and complacency are not unique to Republicans. At the same time, minority groups remain fractured, divided by competing interests and internal disputes. That lack of unity makes it easier for Republicans to continue winning elections even while pushing policies that alienate large segments of the population.

Cruelty, in these contexts, is not always hidden it is often performed in public to send a message. Trump oversaw family separations at the U.S.-Mexico border, with children held in cages as a deterrent to migrants. He spoke of sending the military against protesters during the Black Lives Matter movement and often treated cruelty not as failure but as strength. Modi, for his part, presided over a government response to the 2016 demonetization that left millions of poor families stranded without cash, and during the COVID-19 crisis, images of migrant workers forced to walk hundreds of miles without food or transport revealed a willingness to let suffering take place rather than admit policy failure. His government’s tolerance of vigilante attacks on minorities in the name of cow protection, often justified with silence, further illustrates how cruelty becomes normalized when wrapped in nationalist rhetoric.

Trump’s story illustrates how simplicity in messaging can overpower nuance. His supporters heard a clear promise: “Make America Great Again.” In those four words, resentment found expression, grievance found validation, and entire communities felt heard after years of cultural and economic alienation. Modi has done something similar with catchphrases like achhe din and Atmanirbhar Bharat. These are not policy roadmaps; they are emotional hooks. They give a sense of belonging to those who feel excluded, and in doing so, they bind them to leaders who offer identity more than solutions.

The methods are familiar. Both leaders turned to the media as a battlefield. Trump repeatedly attacked the press as the “enemy of the people,” undermining trust in independent journalism, while Modi has benefitted from an ecosystem of media outlets that celebrate his image and sideline dissenting voices. Both have pressured institutions to serve political ends. Trump leaned on loyalty tests for judges and officials, while Modi has been accused of weaponizing investigative agencies and even manipulating electoral processes. Fear has been their most reliable tool: fear of immigrants in America, fear of minorities in India, fear of cultural decline in both.

The consequences of such leadership cannot be confined to their nations alone. America’s polarization and instability weaken its ability to lead globally, making alliances fragile and opening space for authoritarian rivals like Russia and China. India’s internal divisions and shrinking democratic space diminish its potential as a stabilizing force in South Asia. When the world’s largest democracies falter, the damage ripples outward. Authoritarian regimes feel emboldened. International cooperation, already strained, becomes harder to sustain.

This is why the comparisons to Hitler, however imperfect, should not be brushed aside. The concern is not that genocide will repeat itself in the same way, but that democratic erosion, once normalized, can take societies to places they never imagined possible. The warning lies in the trajectory, not the destination. And the trajectory is clear: unchecked populism corrodes institutions, silences opposition, and leaves nations vulnerable to leaders who see themselves above the law.

The question then is how democracies defend themselves. The answers are not easy, but they are necessary. Institutions must be insulated from political capture. Media independence must be protected, because without information, citizens cannot make choices. Civic education must be strengthened so that people can distinguish rights from privileges, facts from propaganda. Political movements must address real grievances inequality, insecurity, alienation rather than leaving them to be weaponized by demagogues. And internationally, democracies must show solidarity, not only in rhetoric but in defending norms when they are attacked.

The rise of Trump and Modi demonstrates that no democracy, however large, is immune to the appeal of fear and the seduction of strongman politics. The lesson of history is not that we are destined to relive the past, but that ignoring its warnings is dangerous. The world cannot afford complacency. Populist leaders who govern through spectacle may win elections, silence critics, and bend institutions, but they cannot build stable futures.

In the end, the choice is stark. Either democracies find the courage to defend themselves through truth, vision, and inclusion, or they risk surrendering to leaders who mistake fear for strength and division for power. The costs of getting this wrong will not stop at national borders. They will define the future of democracy everywhere.