ENABLING FASCISM: THE EPP’S DANGEROUS PATH

DISCLAIMER: all opinions in this article reflect solely the views of the author, not the position of Stand Up For Europe.

By Drakoulis Goudis

07/02/2025

For nearly a decade, the rise of the far-right in Europe has been the subject of endless debate. Yet rather than retreating, the black (and brown) tide of reactionary politics is gaining ground—often with the complicity of so-called moderate conservatives. Today, the 21st-century iteration of fascism—an ideology fundamentally rooted in hatred of the “other”—is no longer a fringe movement but a viable governing force in the eyes of millions. A significant share of the blame lies with those who were once the gatekeepers of democratic conservatism: the European People’s Party (EPP).

For nearly a decade, the rise of the far-right in Europe has been the subject of endless debate. Yet rather than retreating, the black (and brown) tide of reactionary politics is gaining ground—often with the complicity of so-called moderate conservatives. Today, the 21st-century iteration of fascism—an ideology fundamentally rooted in hatred of the “other”—is no longer a fringe movement but a viable governing force in the eyes of millions. A significant share of the blame lies with those who were once the gatekeepers of democratic conservatism: the European People’s Party (EPP).

The EPP, the dominant center-right bloc in the European Parliament since 1999, was historically committed—barring a few exceptions—to the post-World War II democratic consensus. Even as their brand of conservatism clashed with the values of socially progressive Europeans, few could accuse them of outright collaboration with fascists, racists, or neo-Nazis.

That was the past. Today, across Europe, EPP-affiliated parties are systematically dismantling the so-called cordon sanitaire and extending a hand to the far-right, treating them not as threats to democracy but as potential allies.

Germany’s CDU offers the latest and most egregious example. When the center-left SPD and the Greens refused to back the CDU’s anti-immigration and anti-Schengen proposal, Friedrich Merz’s party willingly sought—and secured—the support of the neo-Nazi Alternative für Deutschland (AfD). In doing so, Merz shattered Germany’s long-standing political tradition of isolating the far-right. With federal elections looming in February, CDU’s stance on collaborating with fascists remains dangerously ambiguous.

Steffen Prößdorf

But CDU is far from the first. In Austria, the ÖVP has already governed alongside the far-right FPÖ and is now poised to re-enter government as a junior partner rather than work with their long-time adversaries in the Social Democratic SPÖ. Italy is even further down this path. Silvio Berlusconi spent decades normalizing Mussolini-apologists and neo-fascists within his centrodestra coalition, and when Forza Italia collapsed, his far-right allies devoured its remnants. The result? The once-dominant center-right party now props up Giorgia Meloni’s government—where Fratelli d’Italia call the shots.

Even Scandinavia, once viewed as a bastion of democratic resilience, has caved. In Sweden and Finland, the Sweden Democrats and the True Finns have been welcomed into right-wing governments, or at the very least, granted significant parliamentary influence. Meanwhile, in the Baltic states, Estonia’s EKRE and Latvia’s NA have both been included in coalition governments led by EPP-affiliated parties (though neither remains in power today).

France offers yet another grim case study. Les Républicains, the successor party of Charles de Gaulle, has been torn apart—squeezed between Emmanuel Macron’s centrist coalition and Marine Le Pen’s Pétainist far-right. In desperation, leader Éric Ciotti chose to align with the latter during the most recent elections. Meanwhile, in the Netherlands, EPP-affiliated parties NSC and BBB, along with Renew-aligned VVD, agreed to serve as little more than props in Geert Wilders’ PVV-led coalition—lending legitimacy to his far-right demagoguery.

And then there is Spain, where the Partido Popular, eager to return to power after years in opposition, has entered regional coalitions with the Francoist Vox party. In the upcoming general election, Spain may well see an explicitly pro-Franco party return to government for the first time since the dictatorship ended.

There are, however, a few notable exceptions. Poland’s Civic Platform, under Donald Tusk, has refused to collaborate with the authoritarian right-wing PiS party, treating them instead as the existential threat that they are. In Portugal, the PSD opted for a minority government rather than making a deal with the far-right Chega.

But these cases are the exception, not the rule. Across much of Europe, the so-called “moderate” right is not merely failing to contain fascism—it is actively legitimizing and enabling it. The consequences of this betrayal will reverberate for generations.

EPP parties have embraced far-right partners primarily due to power struggles, electoral survival, and ideological convergence.

1. Securing Majorities – In many countries, EPP parties faced electoral decline and found themselves unable to govern without far-right support. Rather than form centrist coalitions, they opted to ally with fascist-adjacent parties to maintain control. To simplify, they chose to cling on to power rather than retain the cordon sanitaire.
2. Eliminating the Left as a Threat – Many center-right parties view the left—not the far-right—as their main political enemy. Given a choice between compromising with social democrats or collaborating with nationalists, they often pick the latter. This can be seen as an unmasking of their true priorities: when confronted with a choice, they reveal their preference for the far-right over progressive alternatives.
3. Ideological Drift – On issues like immigration, nationalism, and social conservatism, many EPP parties have adopted far-right rhetoric, making cooperation more natural. After all, when their rhetoric mirrors that of extremists, it becomes difficult to credibly argue that one represents responsible governance while the other is a dangerous radical.
4. Misguided Belief in Containment – Some EPP leaders assume they can control or moderate far-right allies. In reality, these alliances almost always strengthen extremists. Manfred Weber, the EPP’s leader in the European Parliament, seems particularly blind to this lesson. Time and again, he has turned to the far-right blocs of ECR, PfE, and even the neo-Nazi ESN to push through EPP-backed legislation whenever Social Democrats and Liberals refuse to support it. This emerging pattern of cooperation at the European level sets a dangerous precedent, undermining the EU’s commitment to shared democratic values. After all, there can be no meaningful common ground with those who admire Putin, Trump, and even Mussolini and Hitler.

 

Ultimately, EPP parties welcomed fascists as partners out of self-interest, underestimating the long-term consequences of legitimizing the far-right. As the dominant center-right force in European politics, the EPP has historically positioned itself as a pillar of democratic stability. With this influence comes the responsibility to guide its voters toward policies rooted in democratic values rather than pandering to reactionary forces. Unlike smaller parties that thrive on radicalism, the EPP has the power to set the political tone—either reinforcing democratic norms or enabling their erosion.

If the EPP simply follows public sentiment, even when it drifts toward nationalism and xenophobia, it legitimizes and mainstreams those ideologies rather than challenging them. Leadership means shaping the political landscape, not just mirroring it. By failing to push back against extremism and instead embracing far-right rhetoric and alliances, the EPP risks permanently shifting Europe’s political center toward intolerance and authoritarianism—something history warns us never ends well.