Why Populist Parties Struggle To Gain Power In Europe

Have you ever wondered why some political movements, despite rallying massive crowds and dominating headlines, never seem to break through to real power? Across Europe, populist parties are riding a wave of voter enthusiasm, yet they’re consistently locked out of governing roles. It’s a phenomenon that feels almost like a breakup—promises of change, passionate support, but ultimately, a closed door. The reasons behind this are complex, rooted in political strategies, societal divides, and even the very structure of democracy itself.

In my experience, few topics spark as much debate as the rise of these parties. Whether you see them as champions of the people or threats to stability, their struggle to translate votes into influence is undeniable. Let’s dive into why this is happening, exploring the tactics used to keep them at bay and what it means for the future of European politics.

The Populist Surge and Its Limits

Populist parties have been shaking up Europe’s political landscape for years. From Germany’s Alternative for Germany (AfD) to France’s National Rally (RN), these groups are pulling in significant voter shares—sometimes as much as 20-35% in national elections. Their platforms often focus on anti-immigration policies, national sovereignty, and skepticism toward global institutions like the European Union. Yet, despite their electoral success, they’re rarely invited to the governing table.

Why? The answer lies in a strategy known as the cordon sanitaire, a political firewall designed to isolate parties deemed too extreme. It’s like being ghosted after a promising first date—other parties band together, refusing to form coalitions with these outsiders, no matter how many votes they’ve won.

Excluding certain parties is not anti-democratic; it’s about protecting the core values of democracy.

– Political analyst

But here’s the catch: this tactic, meant to safeguard democracy, often fuels the very discontent these parties thrive on. Voters feel their voices are ignored, and the cycle of frustration deepens. Perhaps the most interesting aspect is how this mirrors a breakup dynamic—when one side feels rejected, they often double down, becoming louder and more defiant.

The Cordon Sanitaire: A Double-Edged Sword

The cordon sanitaire isn’t new. Historically, it was used to marginalize fringe groups, but today, it’s being applied to parties with mainstream appeal. In Germany, for instance, the AfD, which secured nearly 21% of the vote in recent elections, was denied key parliamentary roles like committee chairmanships. Other parties, from conservatives to liberals, agreed to freeze them out, citing concerns over their anti-immigration stance and nationalist rhetoric.

Proponents argue this is a necessary defense. They point to the AfD’s controversial policies—like advocating for the expulsion of illegal immigrants or prioritizing traditional family structures—as evidence of values clashing with democratic norms. But critics see it differently. To them, it’s a betrayal of the electorate’s will, akin to telling a partner their feelings don’t matter.

• Germany’s AfD: Polls at 24.5%, yet excluded from coalitions.
• France’s National Rally: Polling at 35% ahead of 2027 elections, but sidelined.
• Austria’s Freedom Party: Won 29% in 2024, blocked by a rival coalition.

This tactic isn’t just about saying “no” to coalition deals. It’s a deliberate effort to limit these parties’ influence, from denying them parliamentary posts to labeling them as extremist in public discourse. The question is: does it work, or does it backfire?

The Backlash Effect

Imagine being told your vote doesn’t count because your choice is “wrong.” That’s the sentiment driving many populist supporters. When parties like the Netherlands’ Party for Freedom (PVV) are shut out, their leaders can claim victimhood, rallying voters around the narrative of being unfairly excluded. It’s a powerful motivator, much like the sting of rejection in a breakup pushes someone to prove their worth.

In the Netherlands, PVV leader Geert Wilders walked away from a coalition in 2025, demanding stricter immigration policies. His move wasn’t just a power play—it was a signal to supporters that he wouldn’t compromise their values. The result? His party’s popularity didn’t wane; it grew.

Exclusion makes these parties stronger by giving them a martyr’s narrative.

– European policy researcher

This dynamic is playing out across the continent. In Spain, Vox, a nationalist party, became the third-largest force in parliament despite being sidelined by socialist and regional coalitions. In France, National Rally’s Marine Le Pen has capitalized on voter frustration, positioning herself as a defender of the “forgotten” working class.

Democracy’s Built-In Safeguards or a Flawed System?

Some argue the cordon sanitaire is a feature, not a bug, of democracy. They call it militant democracy—a system where certain rules protect the game itself. If a party’s values or actions threaten constitutional principles, they can be sidelined, regardless of their vote share. It’s like setting boundaries in a relationship to ensure mutual respect.

But others see it as a dangerous precedent. If democracy is about reflecting the will of the people, how can excluding popular parties be justified? It’s a question that cuts to the heart of what democracy means. In my view, the tension feels like a couple trying to reconcile irreconcilable differences—both sides have valid points, but no one’s backing down.

The data paints a clear picture: populist parties are gaining ground, but political gatekeepers are holding firm. Yet, every exclusion risks alienating voters further, creating a feedback loop of distrust.

The Role of Immigration and Identity

At the core of populist appeal is a sense of cultural displacement. Many voters feel their national identity is eroding under the pressures of immigration and globalization. Populist parties tap into this, promising to restore sovereignty and protect traditional values. It’s less about policy details and more about a visceral sense of belonging—like clinging to a relationship that feels like it’s slipping away.

Take Austria’s Freedom Party, which surged on a platform of euro-skepticism and border security. Or Spain’s Vox, which rails against what it calls “uncontrolled immigration.” These parties frame themselves as defenders of a way of life, resonating with voters who feel ignored by elites.

1. Immigration: A top issue for populist voters, often tied to economic and cultural fears.
2. Nationalism: A call to prioritize local identity over global integration.
3. Elitism: A rejection of establishment politics perceived as out of touch.

But here’s where it gets tricky. By framing these parties as “far-right” or extremist, opponents risk oversimplifying complex voter concerns. Immigration, for instance, isn’t just about borders—it’s about jobs, schools, and community cohesion. Dismissing these worries as xenophobic only deepens the divide.

What’s Next for Europe’s Political Landscape?

So, where does this leave us? The cordon sanitaire may hold populist parties at bay for now, but it’s not a long-term fix. Excluding millions of voters risks radicalizing them further, potentially leading to more extreme movements. It’s like ignoring a partner’s grievances—eventually, the resentment boils over.

In my opinion, the solution lies in dialogue, not exclusion. Mainstream parties could engage with populist concerns—like immigration or economic inequality—without endorsing their rhetoric. By addressing the root causes of voter frustration, they might steal the populists’ thunder.

Dialogue is the only way to bridge this divide. Exclusion just pours fuel on the fire.

– Political commentator

Yet, dialogue is easier said than done. With trust in institutions at historic lows, finding common ground feels like navigating a minefield. Still, history shows that democracies thrive when they adapt, not when they double down on division.

Europe’s populist parties are a symptom of deeper unrest—a cry for change in a world that feels increasingly fractured. Like a breakup, the pain of exclusion can lead to growth or destruction. The question is whether Europe’s leaders will listen before the divide becomes unbridgeable. What do you think—can dialogue heal this rift, or are we headed for a messier split?