Turning Points
Politicians and the Business of Hate (Aren't they exhausting?)
Tiziano Terzani, the Italian journalist, once wrote:
“I wonder how long this world will last, governed exclusively by the merciless, inhuman, and immoral criteria of the global economy. Seeing the shadow of distant islands, I imagined one still inhabited by a tribe of poets, set aside for when, after the Middle Age of materialism, humanity will have to start putting other values into its existence.”
How long can we resist in the condition we are living in today?
How long can this world endure before it implodes? What pervades our lives? What are we exposed to every single day?
Look at the news. Look at political speeches from a very well-defined side of the political spectrum. What you see, over and over again, is hate.
At a time when democratic values are increasingly under strain, hate speech has emerged as one of the most serious threats to democratic societies worldwide. Politicians frequently deploy divisive rhetoric as a calculated strategy: to mobilize supporters, polarize electorates, and secure political power. This language often targets minorities, immigrants, or political opponents, eroding democratic norms, deepening social fractures, and, in many cases, inciting violence.
Clearly, the old formula still works: “We are the good ones; they are the bad ones.”
Violence, lies, hate speech, myths, resentment, these have become the tools of today’s politics. Politics has turned into a business, and hate is one of its most profitable products. A business built on the skin of innocent people.
Much of this resentment is directed at migrants. Anti-migration populist parties are rising across the world, successfully attracting and maintaining voter support by framing migration as a permanent emergency. Polls repeatedly show migration among the most emotionally charged political issues—but this raises an important question.
Is it inevitable that populist parties are anti-migration? Are they merely exploiting genuine public concerns? Or do they actively construct anti-migrant narratives, maintaining a constant sense of crisis that is never meant to be solved, only recycled to attract votes?
For me, the answer is clear. Many parties calling for mass deportations or “new migration policies” do very little when they are actually in power. Yet they never stop campaigning against migrants. The crisis must remain unresolved, because it is politically useful.
History shows us where this leads. Highly polarized societies are especially vulnerable to political violence when leaders normalize hate speech. We saw it in Weimar Germany in the 1920s and 1930s, with political assassinations and Nazi Street violence. We saw it in Argentina during the 1970s “Dirty War,” in which government-backed right-wing death squads fought with left-wing political movements who themselves engaged in terrorism, spiraling into more violence and hate. We also saw this In Rwanda in the 1990s, hateful rhetoric broadcast on the radio helped pave the way for genocide.
These are not distant anomalies. Countries where politicians routinely use hate speech experience significantly higher levels of domestic terrorism. Words matter. What public figures say can unite societies—or tear them apart. Political language shapes behavior and directly influences how much violence a society tolerates.
Women and children are often the primary victims of this climate of hate. Even movements advocating for women’s rights—equal pay, reproductive freedom, bodily autonomy—are frequently targeted by conservative and reactionary rhetoric.
Take Spain as an example. The far-right Vox party, suggested deporting eight million people, regardless of whether they were born in Spain. Unable to counter the Socialist Party on economic stability or growth, the right pours salt into social wounds and insists—again and again—that immigration is the problem.
Hate speech has become a survival strategy for many politicians. Would Giorgia Meloni be Prime Minister without her constant rhetoric of victimhood, patriotism, and imaginary enemies? Would Trump have risen to power? Would Brexit ever have happened? Perhaps not. What these phenomena share is not effective governance, but the ability to weaponize resentment.
Young people, in particular, have become fertile ground for these narratives; otherwise it is hard to explain why some feel nostalgia for dictatorships they never lived under. There is no rational basis for such longing. Under those regimes, they would not even be allowed to express an opinion. And yet, many are drawn to figures like Franco in Spain, Mussolini in Italy, or other so-called “strong men.”
Hate speech is not merely offensive language. It is often the first step toward hate crimes, deep social division, and, in extreme cases, mass violence. It has happened before, and it can happen again.
In the digital age, inflammatory rhetoric spreads globally in seconds, amplifying its consequences. History and contemporary politics alike remind us that language is never neutral. It can incite violence, legitimize extremism, and strip entire groups of their dignity and rights.
I like this piece very much - and would like to offer one step upstream, if I may, of knowledge gathered from three decades of living in a very conservative place.
No one wakes up in the morning and makes an idle decision to hate. Hate is rooted in fear, and fear is rooted in ignorance (meaning, fear in the sense of simply not knowing). As a people, as humans, we have to confront our fears because, as Jung knew, what we fear will control us until we face it, and it may destroy us (individually or collectively).
And the only antidote to ignorance is exposure and experience that lead to (relative) confidence and calm.
But for so many, fear keeps them bound to one place or opinion, and so the state of not-knowing leads to a persistent and deep anxiety. Years of living in a landlocked state largely unaffected by outside influences showed me the vicious cycle of cultural (little c) insulation: the more you fear, the more you protect yourself (and those oft-touted Loved Ones), and so the less you are exposed to, so ignorance (non-exposure) persists, which leads to further insulation.
Result: an insular, insulating and insulated society, convinced they are under siege, when in reality the twin shackles of fear and ignorance bind them to their fearful futures. It’s a brutal and violent self-made reality. But you’ll never convince the fearful otherwise.