A couple of years ago, in the Atlantic magazine, journalist Anne Applebaum wrote an era-defining cover story called “The Bad Guys Are Winning”. Her argument was not only that democratic institutions were in decline across the world, but that there was a new version of old threats to them: rogue states and dictatorships were increasingly linked not by ideology, as in the cold war, but by powerful currents of criminal and mercenary interest, often enabled by western corporations and technology.
“Nowadays,” Applebaum wrote, “autocracies are run not by one bad guy, but by sophisticated networks composed of kleptocratic financial structures, security services (military, police, paramilitary groups, surveillance), and professional propagandists. The corrupt, state-controlled companies in one dictatorship do business with corrupt, state-controlled companies in another. The police in one country can arm, equip, and train the police in another. The propagandists share resources – the troll farms… [that] pound home the same messages about the weakness of democracy and the evil of America.”
The article took as examples the relationships between Russia and Belarus and between China and Turkey, ad hoc alliances created specifically to preserve their leaders’ authoritarian power and vast illicit personal wealth, and to undermine the chief threats to it: transparency, human rights, any pretence of international law. Three years on, with wars in Ukraine and Gaza further fomenting those forces, with the real prospect of a second Trump presidency, Applebaum has published a book-length version of her thesis: Autocracy, Inc: The Dictators Who Want to Run the World. It is a necessary, if anxiety-inducing read.
Applebaum, long a scourge of repressive regimes, is the author of Gulag, the definitive history of the Soviet Union’s forced labour camps. She divides her time between her homes in Washington DC and Poland – where her husband, Radek Sikorski, has recently returned to frontline politics as foreign minister (they tend to discover each other’s whereabouts in the world, she says, through Instagram posts). I met her in London for lunch a couple of weeks ago to talk about her book. She arrived making apologies about jet lag, ordered briskly, and shifted gear seamlessly into foreign affairs. The subsequent fortnight has, of course, proved a very long time in geopolitics. The UK has finally elected a grownup government; France has perhaps temporarily averted the prospect of a far-right administration; and Trump has dodged that bullet and raced ahead in the polls. Having Applebaum’s book closely in mind through all those events is vividly to sense the underlying precariousness of our world, the perils immediately ahead.
In many ways, Applebaum is the consummate witness of this new world order, in that she moves comfortably in rarefied political worlds and maintains a robust view from the ground (she has spent a lot of time of late reporting from Ukraine, for example). She grew up in the US, daughter of a prominent anti-trust lawyer and an art gallery director, in a family with Republican roots in the south. “The elder George Bush would have been my father’s idea of a president,” she says. “Statesmanlike, committed to alliances and stability.”
After studying Russian at Yale and in St Petersburg, she got her political education on the frontline of the “end of history”, seeing first-hand the collapse of Soviet communism in eastern Europe as a correspondent for the Economist and the Spectator. Having married Sikorski in 1992 – he had been a student leader in the Solidarity movement and for a while lived in flamboyant exile in Oxford (he was a member of the Bullingdon Club with Boris Johnson) – she literally cemented the optimism of the era by helping him restore an old manor house in western Poland. The building became a potent symbol of liberal and democratic rebirth not only in Poland but across Europe. (It was, for example, the first place that David Lammy visited earlier this month on becoming foreign secretary.)
The house – Sikorski wrote a book, The Polish House: An Intimate History of Poland, about what it stood for – was the venue of a famous new year party on the eve of the millennium, attended by the couple’s many political friends, mostly on the centre right in Europe and the US. Applebaum’s last book, Twilight of Democracy, looked back at that event, and offered a highly personal, insider’s account of the way in which so many of those friends had been seduced by the siren voices of authoritarian populism and the far right in subsequent years. How Polish friends had sought favour in the thuggish Law and Justice party that gained power in 2005; how British allies – including Johnson – became self-serving Brexiters; and how American Republicans shamelessly fell in behind Trump.
As ever, Applebaum’s analysis unpicked difficult truths: notably that significant groups in every society will always support corruption and authoritarianism because they believe they can directly profit from it. That the arc of history does not naturally bend toward democracy.
Sikorski and Applebaum had dreamed of a new world order with their country manor somewhere near its centre. “On this patch of land it will seem as if communism had never existed,” Sikorski wrote. “We have won the clash of ideas. It’s now time to stop wagging our tongues and get down to work.” In Applebaum’s case that involved researching and writing her monumental Pulitzer prize-winning book Gulag, drawn from newly opened archives in Russia and first-hand experience of survivors. She watched on, appalled, as that history and those archives were shut down again by Vladimir Putin soon afterwards.
The Russian president, a focus of Applebaum’s journalism for 25 years, is the most obvious example of the new-style autocrat she identifies. “The motivation is only power and wealth,” she says. “And towards that end, they think it’s important to weaken democracy and the rule of law. And it’s pretty explicit. I mean, in the case of Russia and China, that’s literally their public doctrine. The Chinese have a document that was published in 2013, which has this marvellous name of Document Number Nine, which lists seven perils threatening the Chinese Communist party. Number one is western constitutionalism. Putin has been talking about this since 2005.”
One difference with the cold war, she says, is that by weaponising social media, these states – she also includes Iran, Saudi Arabia, Venezuela, North Korea and others – have been able to exploit and deepen divisions in countries in which free speech exists. Applebaum and her husband have been targets of all kinds of threats and abuse as defenders of those apparently “elite” interests: an independent judiciary and functioning democratic institutions.
“At first,” she says, “I didn’t understand it at all. You are suddenly in this world of unbelievable hatred, all this vitriol focused on you. Some of it was Russian, some of it was Polish, some from the American right, and they all feed off each other. They all use the same bad English.” The attacks were fuelled by a series of magazine stories in Poland and Russia, that suggested, as she writes, that she “was … the clandestine Jewish co-ordinator of the international press and the secret director of its negative coverage of Poland” or that she was in the pay of the Ukrainian government. “To begin with, you think,” she says, “who do I sue? But then you just have to learn to get used to it.”
That campaign was backed in Poland by harassment from the ruling Law and Justice party. “It had got to the point where they were investigating everybody,” she says. “For example, the equivalent of the tax service demands all of your stuff, papers and information, and you have to get lawyers. We were targeted, of course, and my fear was that if they won again this time, then they would move towards really prosecuting people and putting them in prison.” As it was, the pro-European liberal democrat Donald Tusk unexpectedly prevailed in last year’s election and appointed Sikorski to his cabinet. “You think,” she says, “OK, so now we’re not going to jail. Instead, the foreign ministry.”
Applebaum had already been redoubling her efforts to fight for democracy. In her book she writes of a new network, a democratic forum, that had its first meeting in Vilnius, Lithuania, in 2021. The group is imagined as a countervailing force to her autocracies and involves activists and exiles from the women’s movement in Iran, from among Hong Kong’s umbrella protesters, and former political prisoners from Venezuela, Zimbabwe, North Korea, Turkey and beyond. “There’s an international network of dictators,” she says, “so why shouldn’t there be an international network of democrats? They helped me frame this subject – really, the idea comes from them.”
There is an understandable urgency about this work, not least because of the threats posed by Donald Trump to existing multilateral cooperation. “Trump has a vision for how the US should work, which involves him being in direct charge of the military and them fighting not to uphold the constitution but for his personal interests.”
She fears that a second administration will be more effective in overcoming constitutional checks and balances. “It’s also often the case for these figures that the second time it is worse. Chávez [in Venezuela] made one coup attempt, and then he went to jail. The second time, when he was released, he knew how to do it differently, take revenge. The same thing with Orbán in Hungary. He was prime minister for one term, and then he lost. When he came back, he seemed determined to make sure he never lost again.”
Did it surprise her that the 6 January insurrection didn’t help former Republican friends to come to their senses? “It did. There was a moment – had the Senate agreed to impeach Trump – that would have been the end of it. The fact that they were too partisan to do that meant he survived. And then Trump was incredibly successful at doing something that is a common feature of autocracies, which was seeding a conspiracy theory, convincing something like a third of Americans that the 2020 election had been stolen.”
Her book examines some of the ways that Silicon Valley billionaires have become effectively complicit in enabling autocracies to thrive, agreeing to censorship on their platforms, following the money. She has been prominent among those writers shining a light on the ways that coordinated propaganda strategies in autocracies are fuelling division in the west.
“Of course, I don’t think either Trumpism or the Brexit campaign were foreign ideas,” she says. “I mean, because I worked at the Spectator in the 1990s I knew many people who were anti-EU then and who had grassroots deep in the English countryside. But as we know, what the Russians do, and now others, they don’t invent political movements – they amplify existing groups.”
In the case of Trump, she suggests, “he is clearly somebody who they cultivated for a long time. Not as a spy or anything. But they were offering him opportunities, you know, he was trying to do [property] deals there [in Moscow]. And he’s been anti-Nato since the 80s. He’s openly scorned American allies all of his life. In one of his books, he talks about what a mistake it was for the US to be fighting the second world war. So of course, the Russians would want someone like that, because their aim is to break up Nato. And if they can help get an American president who doesn’t like Nato in office, that’s a huge achievement. It’s a lot cheaper than fighting wars.”
Applebaum despairs at the way anything can now become a binary which-side-are-you-on? culture war. “Taylor Swift!” she says, as a case in point. “Taylor Swift is a blond, blue-eyed country and western singer, who lives in Nashville. And whose boyfriend is a football player in the midwest. And yet you’re going to make her into some kind of symbol of leftwing degeneracy?”
She fears that the horrific war in Gaza has become a similar kind of simplistic “wedge issue”. Her book was mostly written before the Hamas attack on 7 October. “I was able to make some adjustments to it later on,” she says. “But it was not conceived as a book about the Middle East.”
The nature of the rhetoric around the war emphasised that for her. “The fact that the [commentary] became so toxic online so fast, when I saw that happening, I thought: ‘OK, I’m staying out of this,’” she says. “I’m not an expert in the region. I’m not there. I’m certainly not going to talk about it on Twitter. I mean, do people have completely settled views about what’s happening in Sudan, say? That’s another huge crisis.”
In the terms of her book, she suggests to me that “clearly, Hamas, which is connected to Iran, is a part of that autocratic world. And clearly, Netanyahu has designs on Israeli democracy. I wouldn’t say he’s a dictator. But he clearly is willing to preside over a decline in Israeli democracy.
“As journalists,” she adds, “our role is to try to collect information as accurately as possible and analyse it. If the interpretation leads to describing Israeli war crimes in Gaza or whether it leads in the direction of describing Hamas atrocities in Israel, that’s what it should do. But I think, for example, that it’s a great mistake for universities to announce what their ‘policy’ is on the war…”
In this regard, I ask, have our governments been cowardly or naive in not confronting the implications of the great shift in information in our times, the unaccountable algorithms of social media?
“We have been very cowardly about that,” she says. “Anonymity online is a big problem. If someone walked into the room right now with a mask over his face and stood in the centre of the room and started shouting his opinions, we would all say: ‘Who’s that crazy person? Why should we listen to him?’ And yet online that is what happens.”
Given the prognosis of her book, does she never despair, I wonder, about the implications?
“There are always other stories,” she says. “For example, people really misunderstood the recent European election. The French story – the rise of Le Pen – was obviously dominant. But actually everywhere else the far right underperformed: in Germany the big victor was the Christian Democrats, in Hungary Orbán’s party won fewer seats than in previous elections.”
And here in the UK, too, she suggests, though Farage hasn’t gone away, the re-emergence of the liberal-left is the real story.
“I think the actual transformation of the Labour party – they’re not getting enough credit for that,” she says. “Because they were fighting two kinds of populism, both on the right and from Corbyn. What impresses me about Starmer is that he had a whole career as a human rights lawyer before he went into politics. It’s pretty rare these days to have somebody come from a different walk of life and be at the top of that world. He understands how institutions work and how government works.”
So real grounds for hope?
“Well,” she says, “I also feel like, here we are sitting in this nice restaurant in London. Do we have any right to be pessimistic? To just say everything’s terrible, and it’s all going to get worse? We just can’t say that to our children, and we can’t say it, for example, to Ukrainians. What right do we have to be pessimistic? We have to do better than that.”
Source: US Politics - theguardian.com
