For decades, authoritarianism has been among the most persistent threats to democracy. Yet the political danger facing liberal democracies today is not confined to openly authoritarian governments. Populism, often operating through elections and claiming to speak for ordinary citizens, can also erode the institutions on which democratic government depends. Understanding that danger requires looking beyond the appeal of populist rhetoric to what happens when its practitioners acquire power.

In Populism: A Very Short Introduction, political scientists Cas Mudde and Cristóbal Rovira Kaltwasser describe populism as an ideology that divides society into two opposing camps: “the pure people” and “the corrupt elite.” In this worldview, political conflict becomes a struggle between a supposedly unified public and an establishment portrayed as illegitimate. Populist movements differ considerably in their economic and social agendas, but this division can encourage voters to identify their interests with a particular leader rather than with institutions, competing policies, or democratic safeguards.

Political rhetoric is central to that appeal. Leaders who present themselves as the authentic voice of the nation can portray disagreement as betrayal and independent scrutiny as obstruction. At the 2016 Republican National Convention, Donald Trump declared, “I am your voice.” Two years earlier, Viktor Orbán had openly championed an illiberal model of government in Hungary. These statements emerged from different political settings, but both illustrate the power of a message that places a leader’s claim to represent the people above the legitimacy of competing voices.

The distinction matters because democracy is more than the rule of an electoral majority. It also depends on independent courts, free media, protected civil liberties, and the right of political opponents to contest power. When elected leaders imply that only their supporters constitute the legitimate people, those safeguards can appear to be obstacles rather than essential protections. Populism does not inevitably produce authoritarian government, but its anti-pluralist tendencies can make democratic institutions especially vulnerable.

Poland offers a revealing example. After the Law and Justice party came to power in 2015, a dispute over appointments to the Constitutional Tribunal escalated into a prolonged confrontation over judicial independence. The new parliamentary majority selected judges for positions already filled through appointments by the previous parliament, while the president had refused to swear in several of those earlier appointees. Subsequent changes to judicial procedures and disciplinary rules further intensified concerns that the government was weakening the courts’ ability to act independently.

These measures were defended as reforms, but critics saw a sustained attempt to bring the judiciary under political influence. The contradiction is difficult to ignore. If populist leaders claim to protect ordinary citizens from powerful elites, why undermine judges whose independence is meant to protect those same citizens from abuses of state authority? A government may win an election, but that victory does not give it unlimited authority over the institutions designed to uphold the rule of law.

Recognizing the danger, however, does not tell democratic parties how to respond. Simply denouncing populist leaders may reinforce their position at the center of political debate, allowing their language and grievances to dominate the campaign. An effective alternative must do more than criticize provocative speeches. It must explain what is failing in people’s lives, what policies could improve those conditions, and why voters should trust those promises.

That demands a different style of political communication. Rather than insisting that every proposed reform will benefit everyone equally, parties should make the reasoning behind their choices clear. They should explain who stands to gain, which groups may face costs, and how those trade-offs will be managed. Evidence alone will not erase political anger, but concrete commitments give voters something more useful to judge than competing claims about who truly represents the nation.

Hungary’s 2026 election provides a timely illustration. On April 12, the Tisza Party, led by Péter Magyar, defeated Orbán’s Fidesz after 16 consecutive years in government. Tisza did not rely exclusively on attacking Orbán’s record. It published an extensive program addressing taxation, economic policy, energy, public services, and relations with the European Union. Among its proposals were income-tax reductions for workers earning below the median wage and a wealth tax on assets exceeding one billion forints.

The result should not be reduced to the appeal of a manifesto. Voter frustration with economic stagnation, living costs, and the concentration of political power also helped shape the election. Nor does one electoral victory guarantee that Hungary’s democratic institutions will be restored. Still, Tisza demonstrated how an opposition party could combine criticism of an incumbent government with a more detailed account of what it intended to change. That distinction matters in political systems where anger at those in power is already widespread.

Populism takes different forms across the ideological spectrum, and not every populist movement poses the same threat. The central challenge for liberal democracies is to distinguish legitimate public dissatisfaction from efforts to weaken the institutions that allow citizens to hold their rulers accountable. Poland shows how judicial independence can become a political target; Hungary suggests that even an entrenched governing party can be defeated when discontent finds an electoral alternative.

Defending democracy therefore requires more than warning voters about the dangers of populism. It requires political parties to earn public confidence through realistic reforms, transparent choices, and respect for institutional limits. Liberal democracy cannot survive on the promise that it is preferable to the alternatives. It must also demonstrate, in tangible ways, that it can deliver change.