Far-right parties are doing well – so it’s important that we see them for what they are. Yet, in the UK, the label ‘hard right’ is catching on. Why is debateable. But, argues Tim Bale, it’s a misdescription which sanitises these parties. Scholars of the far right should therefore push back

Rise of the far right

Whatever passes for the centre right these days is in serious danger of being displaced or even replaced by the far right – most often by politicians whose questionable commitment to the checks and balances that characterise liberal democracy and whose tendency to counterpose ‘the people’ to ‘the elite’ qualifies them as ‘populist radical’ rather than ‘extreme’ right.

This is happening in three main ways. Sometimes, a far-right party of either variant surpasses its centre-right rival electorally. We've already seen this happen in France and Italy and it may one day happen in Germany. Other times, the takeover occurs from within – think what MAGA has done to the Republicans in the US. Occasionally, a centre-right party tries so hard to fight off a far-right contender by adopting its rhetoric and policies that it all but becomes one itself. Arguably this is what’s happening to the UK Conservative Party. Indeed, one might even argue that, in the UK, all three things are happening at once.

Occasionally, a centre-right party tries so hard to fight off a far-right contender by adopting its rhetoric and policies that it all but becomes one itself

One reason for this drift is that the so-called mainstream has helped normalise and legitimise what we once considered the extreme.

Who’s to blame?

In part, normalisation of far-right ideas is down to supposedly centrist politicians hoping to counter the threat on their right flank by talking and acting tough on immigration, sounding more sceptical about rapid progress towards net zero, and walking back previously liberal stances on transgender issues. But the mainstream media also contributes – as anyone following politics in the UK for a few years may have noticed.

Large parts of the British media treat policies put forward by far-right politicians that are not merely fringe but patently unworkable as options worth discussing and even supporting. A recent example is Reform UK leader Nigel Farage talking about reopening coal mines or, equally absurdly, funding massive tax cuts simply by ‘scrapping’ net zero and DEI programmes.

Large parts of the British media are legitimising unworkable far-right ideas – such as Nigel Farage's plan to reopen coal mines – as though they are policies worthy of discussion

More insidiously, there is a growing tendency in the British media – especially The Times and The Economist and, even (in its radio coverage) the BBC – to label such parties not as far right (or, at the very least, populist radical right) but as ‘hard right.’

Excuses, excuses

'Hard right' is a neologism that, unless I’m missing something, has little or no currency whatsoever among academic experts. Those experts like to call things exactly what they are – namely (following Cas Mudde) far right (the umbrella term) or one of its two variants: extreme right or (populist) radical right.

In their defence, journalists will talk about language evolving to cover new phenomena. This argument, however, seems to ignore the fact that both the extreme and populist radical-right variants of the far right have been around for decades. If this is the case, then why is it only recently that the new term has crept into media output?

Journalists have even suggested that 'populist radical right' is just too complex a term for their readers to understand. Why use three words when two will do? This is understandable in a headline, perhaps, but in an 800-word report or op-ed? I don’t think so.

Use of the term ‘hard right’ is less an evolution than a euphemism, effectively sanitising and normalising what it purports to describe

In reality, ‘hard right’ is less an evolution than a euphemism, effectively sanitising and normalising what it purports to describe. And the recent increase in its use doesn't seem to correlate with any deradicalisation among the parties that journalists are referring to. Instead, it correlates with growth in those parties' electoral support and their proximity to or entry into government. This all suggests that what's driving journalists' use of 'hard right' is their fear of losing access to precious sources were they to call it what it actually is. Or, given that Reform UK (successfully) threatened the BBC with legal action if it were to label the party ‘far right’, maybe journalists fear an even worse fate than that.

Which is to be master? Time to make a stand

Ultimately, of course, I can only hazard a guess as to whether journalists' fears of loss of access, or else media intimidation by the parties themselves, are in fact the cause. Nor can I be sure that other countries are experiencing something similar, although I would be very interested to find out. But I do know that those of us involved in studying such parties – and who, I assume, value precision – should push back against this terminological slippage.

Pushing back can have an impact. And it does matter. After all, as this piece of dialogue from Lewis Carroll’s Alice Through the Looking Glass reminds us, language is no trivial matter:

‘“When I use a word,” Humpty Dumpty said, in rather a scornful tone, “it means just what I choose it to mean – neither more nor less.”

“The question is,” said Alice, “whether you can make words mean so many different things.”

“The question is,” said Humpty Dumpty, which is to be master – that’s all.”’