Globalism is Dead—And Democracy Killed It | Opinion

Globalism is dead.

That's still the reality after Italy's elections last week. Voters decisively rejected decades of political integration with the European Union, instead putting their trust in a populist party that promises to fight for the Italian people and the Italian nation. The new prime minister, Giorgia Meloni, is unapologetic about defending families, small businesses, and her country's distinct culture. It turns out that's exactly what Italian voters want.

And it's not just Italy. Just a few days earlier, Sweden elected the most anti-globalist government in its history. That follows the election of Liz Truss, who's on some issues more populist even than Boris Johnson, as prime minister of the United Kingdom. Add in Poland and Hungary, where populist leaders and parties have been winning not just elections, but reelections, for years. Even in the United States, there is unprecedented momentum to elect leaders who reject the globalist consensus of endless immigration, economic integration, and cultural assimilation into an international community of conformity.

In other words, not only is globalism dead—democracy is what killed it.

Naturally, that's not what you'll hear from the chattering class—the media personalities and academics who are globalism's biggest defenders, especially in the United States. Many of them are saying these election outcomes are somehow anti-democratic, or worse. But that's laughable on its face. A vigorously fought election is the essence of democracy. By trying to dismiss these recent elections, globalists are betraying their own anti-democratic worldview, which is precisely what voters are rejecting, country by country.

The ideology of globalism is dead because it was at odds with national interests and the voting public. It's a perverted form of globalization, which for decades enriched individuals, families, and nations by economically connecting national markets around the globe. Yet that positive phenomenon eventually gave way to something much more expansive—and much less beneficial.

The postwar "peace dividend" following the collapse of the Soviet Union was supposed to secure both democracy and a semblance of global order. Yet that dividend has been squandered by power-hungry, jet-setting governance and cultural elites who often know more about their peers in any capital city around the world than about the everyday people living in their own countries. They pushed economic and social policies that were anathema to the general public, often left without any input and without any easy recourse to effect change. And as the project of globalization became the ideology of globalism, elites pushed to suppress cultural distinctions and democratic institutions.

None of this squares with the idea of the nation and the reality of daily life. Italians were required to see themselves as Europeans first, and to accept unelected bureaucrats in Brussels instead of elected officials in Rome. Ditto Swedes, Poles, Hungarians, Brits, and everyone else on the continent. Meanwhile, in America, an entire generation is being trained to see themselves as "global citizens" who should love the United Nations and the International Criminal Court over our own three branches of government.

But voters don't want this, and understandably so. Italians don't want their local stores driven out of business by mega-corporations. Swedes don't want to live in a country that is increasingly foreign-born. Hungarians don't want the French (or the Americans) to tell them what constitutes morality. Dutch farmers don't want the World Economic Forum to dictate how much manure they spread in their fields. People want their nations to reflect their values and serve their interests. That's the essence of democratic government, yet it's exactly what globalism destroys.

No wonder voters are driving globalism into the grave. It's unpopular, and democracy depends on popular policies. The backlash will likely be so severe and sustained that it rolls back some of the positive developments of the earlier globalization, especially on free trade.

But that's the inevitable result of globalists' overreach. They pushed too far economically, culturally, and politically. Now voters are pushing back. They want elected leaders who fight for families; who defend their unique national culture; and whose highest earthly loyalty is to their own people and nation, not some vague "international community." In short, people want a government that views its citizens as more than consumers—as humans possessing a soul and a sense of belonging to their own time and place.

The biggest question is how far this democratic populist movement goes in the United States. Globalism is more firmly entrenched here than anywhere else, and American institutions, with their worldwide reach, are the most active in projecting this ideology worldwide. It's already clear that our country's elite will savage any threat to its power as "Trumpian," "anti-democratic," or, to use President Joe Biden's insulting term, "semi-fascism." Yet none of these accusations are true.

The populist pressure that's building in America pre-dated Donald Trump, and it will endure long after he's gone. So will its impact at the ballot box, which is consistently growing stronger with every election. Globalism is dead in the United States, too. Now we'll find out how long the death rattles last.

Marion Smith is president and CEO of the Common Sense Society.

The views expressed in this article are the writer's own.