Born to lose every time, each in their own way

Trump concluded the Republican mid-term convention by telling his supporters: “Go out and vote. Pretend I’m on the ballot paper.” “If you don’t vote for us, you’ll go to hell,” Vice-President Vance had said the day before. They’ve forgotten that invoking the apocalypse doesn’t work very well. It didn’t work when the Democrats were brandishing it against Trump. Are they being sincere, or is this merely a performance? Is there no one to inform them of the risks involved in personalizing a vote that is actually about something else entirely? Will you tell them, Matteo, that by rashly framing it as ‘vote yes’ or ‘vote against me’, you lost a referendum, the premiership and the Democratic Party all in one go? Provoking voters is extremely risky. There are golden opportunities for voters who are angry with everyone. The temptation to make the person in power pay is irresistible, especially if approval ratings are falling. Trump’s are now hovering below 30 per cent – an all-time low, worse than Biden’s at the end of his presidency.

It is almost as if they were doing it on purpose. The sport in which almost everyone seems to be competing appears to be doing their utmost to lose, rather than to win, elections. There is no single recipe for success. Many on the right, and especially on the left, are giving it their all. They are not just ‘losers’ – the ultimate insult in an America that worships success. It seems as though they want to lose. Each does so in their own way. Is it out of arrogance, out of hubris—that excessive self-confidence which leads the protagonists of Greek tragedies to their downfall? Is it because they are afraid of governing? Is it because it is more comfortable to remain snug in the opposition, in their own little niche? Is it narrow-mindedness? Because they think of themselves rather than their country, of their own petty self-interest, of their own party’s interests, rather than the common good? Is it excessive ambition? Or, on the contrary, a lack of ambition? Because they have lost their sense of reality? Or because they have far too much of it?

The Italian left has often seemed to go to great lengths to lose. This is a well-documented pattern. While no one relishes losing votes, avoiding the responsibility of governing can sometimes be more convenient. When I worked at L’Unità, back in the last century, a very brilliant, very left-wing, very ambitious colleague—who was desperate to become editor-in-chief (and, after much toing and froing, he eventually succeeded, albeit with a newspaper on its last legs and the publication now in the hands of a right-wing businessman)—would spend his afternoons in the newsroom explaining to us that the Italian Communist Party (PCI) was at its best when in opposition. Woe betide it if it ever came to power. The left in opposition was respected. Even by its opponents. It mattered; it carried weight. It effectively defended workers, women and young people. It provided jobs, wages and career prospects for many. It enjoyed genuine popular support. It managed to push through real reforms (the Charter of Rights, divorce, the defence of democracy against right-wing or left-wing conspiracies). Berlinguer said that in Italy there were ‘elements of socialism’. That colleague of mine, a bit of a windbag, wasn’t entirely wrong. The Italian Communist Party (PCI) achieved much more whilst in opposition. It actually brought about change. Certainly much more than the PD and the others have managed to achieve in recent years (whether in opposition or even in government). To be sure, the old Left may also have produced some negative outcomes. Yet what counted was its ability to offer hope that change was possible. The future did not appear entirely bleak. Optimism is priceless in politics. My generation was never as content as when it was in opposition—in part because we were younger.

In the coming days and months, there will be elections in which real decisions are actually made. With other elections, it is not even clear why they are held. Or they are not held at all. In Putin’s Russia and Erdogan’s Turkey, there is no longer even a semblance of opposition; the moment a rival party rears its head, it is crushed, outlawed or thrown in jail. In China, there has never been a direct vote for the national leadership. The Israeli elections, on the other hand, are genuine elections. Purely proportional representation. With a ballot paper even more fragmented and lengthy than those in Weimar-era Germany a century ago. Hitler did not have a majority; he never did in fair elections. In 1932, the year before his appointment as Chancellor, no fewer than two general elections and a presidential election had been held. In the presidential election that same year, Hitler was defeated in the second round by Hindenburg. In the first of the two general elections, the National Socialist Party had come close to 40 per cent. In the second, it had slipped back to just over 30 per cent. Some wrote that Hitler was finished. The German newspapers of the time boasted the world’s most brilliant political commentators. Sidelined and reduced to an outcast, Hitler was unable to form an alliance with the other right-wing parties; he no longer stood a chance. They got it wrong. It was the centrists who gave him a free pass, scheming to have him appointed chancellor, even though he was in a minority within the government. They were certain they could control him. Instead, within a matter of months, it was he who eliminated first his opponents, then his allies. It remains uncertain how the situation will evolve for Netanyahu; discussing it further could lead to disagreement with the editor and founder of this newspaper. Moreover, holding elections in the midst of a war is not ideal for democracy. Before 7 October, many believed Netanyahu’s days were numbered: half of Israel had turned against him, rejecting his attempts to subordinate the judiciary to the government.

The French left is a master at setting itself up for defeat. There is still time – the vote is not due until April 2027. But already, representatives of the 50 shades of the left are positioning themselves to lose. Jean-Luc Mélenchon, the populist leader of La France insoumise (LFI), harangues crowds at rallies while claiming victory. He had already done so in the aftermath of the last general election, insisting that he himself should be the Front Populaire’s candidate for the post of Prime Minister. He had ruled out the possibility of the candidate being a Socialist or a moderate. The result: a succession of centrist prime ministers, sacked one after the other, much to the delight of Marine Le Pen’s Rassemblement National (RN). Le Pen, too, has her own Vannacci-types (the ‘immigrant-eater’ Zemmour, an ultra-right-wing niece), but they are no match for her. In the second round, they will inevitably vote for her. There is some internal discontent—a furious Bardella for not being the candidate himself—but that is another story. It has to do with succession, not with the contest. Across the Atlantic, Vance and Rubio would be more than just furious if Trump managed to stand for re-election.

Mélenchon is aiming to be Le Pen’s opponent in the second round. The polls even give him some hope in this regard. The two-round system means they do not need to hold primaries. The first round is effectively a primary in itself. Mélenchon knows full well that he will never make it to the Élysée Palace. He treats the Socialists even worse than Conte treats the PD. On foreign policy, the situation is even more problematic: he is anti-European and has described Zelensky as the ‘president of nothing’. As much of a Putinist as Putin himself and as Eurosceptic as any other candidate, Le Pen may be more reassuring to voters. It is by no means certain that, even in a desperate situation—to block the far right’s access to the Élysée—the remaining left-wing electorate would vote for him (just as it is hard to imagine his base of disaffected voters casting a ballot for a socialist). Mélenchon lacks the political stature to rally all those who oppose Le Pen. The polls on this are unequivocal: centrists will never vote for Mélenchon; if anything, they would prefer a far right that has become more moderate (RN has clearly distanced itself from Germany’s AfD). At best, Mélenchon could hope for a ‘third round’ of anti-Le Pen protest in the streets. In other words, the perpetuation of an opposition role.

The Front Populaire no longer exists. Raphael Glucksmann has announced, after a long period of reflection, that he is standing as a candidate in the presidential election. He is a very strong candidate and might even secure a majority within his own camp. “I speak to you from the left, but I am addressing an audience far beyond the left,” he says. But he faces a problem similar to that of Elly Schlein: he must guard against friendly fire. He does not come from the Socialist Party apparatus but from a group, a forum of left-wing intellectuals founded in 2018 and called ‘Place publique’. He is not a traditional politician. They call him the ‘petit prince’, the little prince. The heavyweights of the Socialist Party – former President François Hollande and former candidate Ségolène Royal (who spent thirty years as Hollande’s partner and has four children with him) – are toying with the idea of standing themselves. Royal, now in her seventies, draws strength from the 47 per cent she secured twenty years ago in the second round of the elections that pitted her against Nicolas Sarkozy. It is as if, in America, Hillary Clinton were to stand again now, pointing out that whilst she lost to Trump in 2016, she did so whilst securing three million more votes than him. Some commentators even suggest that the party secretary, Olivier Faure, is weighing a candidacy. At odds with Glucksmann, Faure has advocated backing Mélenchon (just as in Italy, within the PD, Goffredo Bettini openly supports the Five Star Movement’s Giuseppe Conte over Schlein). All in the hope of putting a spanner in the works for Glucksmann. Certainly not because they believe they can actually reach the Élysée. The chances of their advancing to the second round are virtually nil. They have no intention of winning; they are not even contemplating such an outcome. That is the only logical explanation.

In the United States, the system is very different. The fact that candidates from the same party go at each other’s throats in the primaries has never prevented them from ultimately closing ranks behind the winner. Primaries are not an endless duel; they end in embraces. Not necessarily spontaneous ones, but often negotiated in exchange for a place on the winning team. No one would dream of telling their supporters to stop voting for the party simply because a rival won the primaries. The fact that, state by state and constituency by constituency, there are different – and indeed very different – political leanings amongst the Democrats who prevail in the primaries is not a weakness, but a strength. It allows them to broaden their appeal. Conversely, for the Republicans, staking everything on a single breed of horse in the upcoming mid-term elections on Tuesday 3 November could prove counterproductive. Centring everything around the figure of Trump could even prove fatal. Having only candidates who are utterly loyal to the president, with no dissenters, is never a good thing. Dissent enriches; unanimity impoverishes. Single-party states and empires die from unanimity. This is what happened to the CPSU and the Soviet empire. It could ultimately prove fatal for Putin’s empire too. Although there are no concerns there about the election result, the concern is over the succession.

There is no such thing as unanimity in politics. What exists is the ability – or lack thereof – to bring together constituencies, electoral groups, social groups, and groups defined by shared interests, sensibilities and ideologies. Building a ‘historic bloc’, a political bloc or a bloc of majority consensus is always a highly complex undertaking. It requires bringing together many different components and factions. There is much debate about the fact that, in several Democratic primaries, left-wing candidates – even socialists – have unexpectedly prevailed. This is not a liability, but an asset; to win, the Democrats need all possible components of the bloc; the ‘centrists’, what they call ‘the mainstream’, are not enough. They need every possible stream of support. Trump had forged a sort of coalition ranging from the ultra-rich to the ‘forgotten’ American, to those he promised lower taxes, to workers left without factories, to large sections of the middle class, but also to the Hispanic and Black communities. The glue holding it all together was ‘Make America Great Again’ – making the rest of the world pay, starting with Europe and other allies. There was also aversion to the Democratic establishment, to the overbearing power of bureaucracy and to the elites in general, as well as a perceived, much-trumpeted influx of migrants. What made the mix irresistible was the strong desire for a dynamic president – someone who knows what he wants, who speaks the language of the people, and who would show the whole world what’s what.

But everything points to that ‘bloc’, that ‘coalition’, falling apart. The hard-core MAGA supporters are holding firm. But the rest is eroding. The polls are relentless. For the first time in a long while, they are all pointing in the same direction. His approval rating has fallen below 33 per cent. Biden’s latest figure, battered by inflation and visibly no longer at his best, stood at 41 per cent. Obama, Bush and Clinton, on the eve of the mid-term elections during their first terms, had approval ratings of 45, 68 and 43 per cent respectively. Trump is losing support among Hispanic voters, who had helped him win in 2024 (a veritable collapse in popularity, from 39 per cent to 24 per cent). He is losing support among ‘independent’ voters, who are registered as neither Republican nor Democrat (from 42 per cent a year and a half ago to 23 per cent – a drop of no less than 19 percentage points). He is losing support across almost all age groups. Worse still – much worse – he is losing support amongst his own electorate, the Republicans. He is losing support in swing states, even in those that are staunchly conservative. He is losing support over rising prices, the tariff fiasco, the war with Iran and broken promises. However, he is not losing support – or is losing far less of it – on immigration or on taking a hard line with allies.

All the latest polls are predicting a heavy defeat for the Republicans in November. They could lose their majority in the House of Representatives, which is up for a full election, and also in the Senate, where a third of the seats are up for election. It wasn’t enough for them to rig the system, change the rules of the game and alter the boundaries of electoral constituencies through redistricting. The Supreme Court did not approve the abolition of postal voting. Trump’s constant invocation of the danger of ‘communism’ (communism in America, not the Chinese variety, let alone the threat of Russian despotism) at least once a day in his speeches, interviews and social media posts has not worked. The proclaimed victories in the war against Iran are laughable. It is embarrassing that, whilst boasting about Canada as the 51st US state, he has effectively pushed it into the arms of the EU. It is unlikely he will pull it off, overturning the predictions by promising the moon and the stars, and $5,000 per voter if they can overcome the disaffection that would keep them away from the polls. The effect of the ‘let’s unite because we’re at war’ rhetoric is minimal.

The democratic opposition’s weakness is that, at present, they have no leader. Or rather, they have too many who aspire to become one, which is practically the same thing. They have already been in government, and people did not like the way they ran things. Certain widespread disaffection amongst the public becomes chronic. Even where, as in the American system, there is no third option, one is forced to choose between Republicans and Democrats. Apart from the decisive fact that there is still no sign of the mix, the informal coalition, the ‘bloc’ if you will (I am using the term which, in Gramsci’s work, is highly complex, as well as belonging to a completely different era from our own), that could serve as an alternative to the one that brought Trump to the White House. It may not be enough for one of the camps to do everything in its power to lose. It is also essential that the other side genuinely wants to win. Trump’s approval rating is below 30 per cent. Provoking voters is risky, yet the temptation to make the person in power pay is irresistible.