A radical leader edges towards transforming Austria’s democracy, sparking widespread concern.

It is widely acknowledged throughout history that the ascendance of extreme right-wing movements often results from failures within conservatism. By adopting the rhetoric of the radical right—normalising its positions and demands—conservatives help amplify those agendas. They also elevate such figures into prominent government roles, effectively legitimising their influence. This is precisely what appears to be unfolding in Austria. Herbert Kickl, the radical leader of the ultra-right Freedom Party (FPÖ), could soon become Chancellor, as the conservative People’s Party seems poised to acquiesce to his demands.
This worrying development arises from a critical failure within the political establishment. The far right came out on top in recent parliamentary elections with roughly 29 percent of the vote, yet every other party had pledged during the campaign not to form a coalition with Kickl or his circle of extremists. The Conservatives, Social Democrats, and Liberals had initially pursued a three-party coalition, but these negotiations collapsed over relatively minor differences on fiscal policy. When the Liberals allowed the talks to fail, it unleashed a damaging chain reaction. The Conservatives’ hard-line, austerity-focused wing seized the opportunity to torpedo an unpopular centre-right coalition and pave the way for a right-wing alliance—something these conservative hardliners had quietly desired all along.
It was, however, not the product of a long-simmering conspiracy. The Democrats’ alliance ultimately collapsed due to a combination of misfortune and recklessness, and none of the parties involved can claim any credit. This recalls many historical examples of tragic miscalculation, where leaders, through error after error, fail to halt the rise of authoritarianism and instead open the door wide for it. It is an inexcusable oversight.
Austria now risks joining the ranks of countries led by authoritarian, radical figures, such as Hungary, Slovakia, Italy under Giorgia Meloni, and the United States under the newest Trump administration. Though the precise trajectory is uncertain, it appears likely that Austria will land somewhere in the middle. The country may not immediately devolve into a full-fledged autocracy, but neither is it likely to remain under a government that is only moderately more right-wing.
Herbert Kickl is not merely a loud populist trying to win votes within liberal democratic confines, nor is he a tribune who flatters the working classes by claiming kinship. He is a far-right ideologue committed to reshaping the political landscape. In his party’s platform, he vowed to “homogenise the population,” and he has openly called for following the example of Viktor Orban. He has led outlandish anti-vaccination rallies, and his party displays unwavering loyalty to Vladimir Putin, even signing a friendship treaty with the Kremlin’s political faction. Moreover, it has opened its doors to the far-right Identitarians—a fascist street movement. During the election campaign, Kickl declared that he already had “wanted lists.” If anyone intends to bring about an authoritarian transformation of the state, it is Kickl and the radical clique leading the FPÖ.
Still, his party holds only 29 percent of the vote and will have to forge an alliance with the conservative People’s Party, which has itself increasingly embraced right-wing populist positions. On immigration, these two parties have long vied to see which could seal Austria’s borders more decisively. They also appear increasingly aligned in their hostility towards a free press and in their derision of what they call “woke decadence.” Nevertheless, as Austria’s traditional governing party, the People’s Party is unlikely to dismantle the institutional foundations of the republic.
Some parts of Austria’s institutional framework remain protected by the constitution—at least for the time being—and cannot be easily undermined without a two-thirds majority. One peculiarity of the far-right Freedom Party is that, even though it was founded by Nazi veterans nearly seventy years ago and shifted to resentment-driven right-wing populism about four decades back, it has primarily sought to become part of the very “system” it claims to oppose. It has already served twice as the junior partner in coalition governments with the People’s Party, sits in five provincial governments, and includes many local and regional politicians who are not necessarily radical zealots. On the one hand, it harnesses latent and overt public discontent, fomenting anger and division; on the other, it has grown accustomed to occupying a normal place in Austria’s political life.
This should not be seen, however, as a reason for complacency. The FPÖ has shifted sharply rightward in recent years. The broader international climate, the electoral victories of ideologically linked parties, examples of radical governance in places like Hungary and the United States, and the increasingly acrimonious culture wars all fuel a desire for “disruptive governance.” We can expect attempts to weaken public broadcasting, curtail the avant-garde artistic community, and dismiss individuals deemed undesirable from leadership positions in institutions and the media.
The government will likely make a daily effort to discredit opposition figures and stifle dissent. In particular, it may deliberately try to sap the strength of the Social Democrats, the left-leaning city of Vienna, trade unions, and progressive organisations and NGOs. A wave of illiberalism could descend on the country, especially if key media outlets comply—a disturbing scenario that is unfortunately more than likely. The opposition and democratic civil society must therefore prepare themselves and defend liberal democracy with unwavering determination and strategic acumen.
Robert Misik is a writer and essayist in Vienna. He publishes in many outlets, including Die Zeit and Die Tageszeitung. His awards include the John Maynard Keynes Society prize for economic journalism.