Jamie Dettmer is opinion editor at POLITICO Europe.
Revolutions have a tendency to eat their own — just look at how French and Russian revolutionaries murderously turned on each other. But at least they fell out largely after they’d ousted their ancient regimes.
United States President-elect Donald Trump has yet to be sworn in, but his volatile coalition of would-be revolutionaries and radical right-wing disruptors are squabbling over issues big and small. And now, they’re at each other’s throats over who among Europe’s populists are worthy of support and who’s beyond the pale.
Of course, the stakes aren’t as high as they were during the French or Russian revolutions. The guillotine won’t be slicing and dicing in front of cheering MAGA crowds. And there won’t be shots delivered to the backs of erring comrades’ heads in dimly lit basements. Presumably.
But Europe must brace for permanent clashes — and for them to get much nastier and even more surreal.
None of those aligned with Trump are known for their rhetorical restraint or for observing civility in public discourse, of course. They all relish throwing around incendiary remarks and pillorying their opponents with insults — just ask Britain’s safeguarding minister Jess Phillips, who was dubbed a “rape genocide apologist” by tech billionaire Elon Musk for what he views as an inadequate response to grooming gangs and historic child sex abuse in northern England.
But not all of Trump’s allies see eye to eye. Steve Bannon, a White House adviser in Trump’s former administration and a key MAGA ideologist, let rip over the weekend, telling online magazine Semafor that he and Musk disagree on “just about everything.” Accusing the billionaire of being in the pocket of China for self-dealing business reasons, Bannon said: “Elon Musk — he can’t take a punch. And he’s certainly got a glass jaw.”
Bannon subsequently tempered his remarks, saying that Musk’s wealth and influence are valuable weapons to further spread MAGA populism in Europe. “I support his participation because the enemy of my enemy is my friend,” Bannon said.
But he and Musk are likely to continue to battle over who among Europe’s right-wing populists should be trusted as allies, and the bickering is a clear sign of what’s ahead.
Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, for example, has been singled out by many — including herself — as a possible Trump whisperer, and Musk is a fan. So much so, in fact, that he had to deny any romantic connection with the Italian leader, after describing her as “someone who is even more beautiful on the inside than she is on the outside” at an awards ceremony in New York last year.
However, Bannon and other MAGA loyalists don’t want Meloni reaching Trump’s ear, and have been mounting unrelenting attacks on her in the Italian media, accusing her of being a leftie camouflaged as a populist. Bannon faults Meloni for being “one of the biggest supporters of continuing the war in Ukraine,” arguing for nationalist firebrands Marine Le Pen, Nigel Farage and Viktor Orbán as bridges to Europe instead. (However, some of his ire may be because Meloni has done nothing to ease the legal tangle preventing Bannon acolytes from gaining back control of an Italian monastery they want to use as a political academy — or gladiator school — for European populists.)
Now, Musk has turned on Reform UK leader Farage, abruptly declaring the party should replace him, since he won’t embrace British fascist activist and anti-Islam campaigner Tommy Robinson (real name Stephen Yaxley-Lennon). Largely viewed as a cross between a Blackshirt, street thug and football hooligan at home, Robinson adopted his political pseudonym to cover up a criminal history, and he’s been serving an 18-month prison term for contempt of court after repeating libelous allegations — not, as Musk appears to believe, for just speaking out.
On the one hand, all this squabbling makes for a dizzying and entertaining spectacle: A parade of sudden spats, snubs and tearful reconciliations akin to the kind of tabloid fare more associated with reality television and the royals.
But in this never-ending cycle of meddling, needling and escalating disputes, the side that disruptor-in-chief Trump ends up coming down on won’t just impact the performance and trajectory of his own administration, it will also have consequences for the wider world — including Europe.
Trump’s first term was, to say the very least, traumatic for Europe’s leaders, accompanied as it was with threats to pull out of NATO, a refusal to emphatically reaffirm the alliance’s collective defense clause, and rifts on issues ranging from trade and immigration to sanctions and climate change. On top of that, there were his abrasive, distracting tweets and social media posts, which contributed to confusing and roiling transatlantic relations.
But this time around it won’t just be Trump inserting himself into domestic European politics with inflammatory online posts. The bloc will have to contend with goading from his top associates and inner circle, including Musk, as it tries to figure out whether they actually reflect what the president-elect thinks, whether they might be able to persuade him, or whether it best to ignore them altogether.
As Shakespeare wrote when examining the vagaries of court life, “A friend i’ th’ Court is better than a penny in purse.” But who does one befriend when the court is overseen and populated by agents of chaos? Who has the upper hand in Trump’s court, and who is most likely to maintain it?
Trying to figure that out will add an almost comic layer of complexity and unpredictability to the task of European diplomats and policymakers as they try to strategize and develop contingencies — especially as the court at hand is one where sentiments, opinions and fortunes change so abruptly and caprice runs riot. Just days before Musk imperiously declared Farage should be replaced, for example, he’d been praising the party leader, calling Reform UK Britain’s “only hope” amid rumors of a substantial donation.
The ongoing fights, brusque schisms and equally surprising reconciliations will thus complicate life for Europe’s populist parties, possibly shaping their fortunes at home. And they’ll have to grow accustomed to being elevated one moment, only for Trump to unceremoniously withdraw his imprimatur the next.