The global surge of right-wing movements has been marked by a blend of anti-globalist, anti-establishment, nationalist, racist, and xenophobic rhetoric, all wrapped in a veneer of traditional values. From India to Europe, Brazil, the United States, and Argentina, these movements are shifting political landscapes, pushing extreme-right ideologies into the mainstream. Even in places where they haven’t seized power, their influence is unmistakable. Political norms are skewing rightward, with once-fringe views increasingly embraced by mainstream parties.

The academic world is still wrestling with how to label this phenomenon, some using terms like neofascism, post-fascism, and radical right, while others suggest new labels like 'neopatriots' or 'extreme-right 2.0.' Despite their nationalist focus, these movements share a strikingly uniform international ideology. They rally against common enemies: globalism, socialism, gender ideology, and what they derisively term 'wokeness.'

As these 'culture wars' spill over national borders, some scholars argue that it is the global nature of these movements that marks them as distinct from past iterations of right-wing extremism."

For the New Right, globalism is the ultimate bogeyman—a nefarious force aiming to dissolve national borders, erase cultural identities, and concentrate power in the hands of a global elite. It’s not just about interconnected economies or international cooperation; in their eyes, globalism is a deliberate agenda driven by multinational corporations, international organizations, and shadowy elites who prioritize profit and control over the well-being of ordinary citizens. To the New Right, globalism represents a direct threat to national sovereignty, traditional values, and the right of nations to govern themselves. This fear of globalism is what drives their urgent calls to reclaim national sovereignty, protect cultural heritage, and resist what they see as a top-down, homogenized world order imposed from above.

Central to this narrative is the idea of a "global managerial class"—a transnational elite comprising political leaders, corporate executives, and international bankers—allegedly steering global institutions to benefit themselves while eroding local autonomy. Figures like George Soros have become symbolic of this perceived globalist agenda, with accusations that they use their influence to promote policies like mass immigration and liberal social reforms, which critics claim undermine national sovereignty and traditional values. For the New Right, globalism is not just an economic or political concern but a cultural and existential threat, fueling their resistance to what they perceive as an elitist plot to erase national identities and impose a standardized global culture.

This fear is further amplified by conspiracy theories that claim globalism is part of a broader, sinister plan. One of the most prominent examples is the Agenda 2030 conspiracy theory, which twists the United Nations’ Sustainable Development Goals into a supposed blueprint for global control, involving forced urbanization, population control, and the elimination of private property. A classic theory was the idea of a “New World Order,” where global elites allegedly seek to create a one-world government that strips away individual freedoms and imposes totalitarian control. These theories often claim that events like climate change policies, pandemics, and economic crises are orchestrated or exploited by globalists to further their agenda. The blending of these theories with legitimate concerns about globalization creates a potent mix of fear and opposition, driving much of the New Right’s agenda

A cross the globe, new right movements have turned 'wokeism' into their favorite punching bag—a catch-all slur for anything remotely progressive during. The term “stay woke” originated within Black American communities civil rights era. It emerged as a call to a call to be conscious of and vigilant of racism and oppression. It has been twisted into a broadside against causes like racial justice, gender equality, and social equity.

The term 'woke' got a new lease on life in the 2010s, thanks to Black Lives Matter activists, expanding beyond race to spotlight issues around gender and other marginalized identities. It caught on with millennials and Gen Z, spreading far and wide, and even landing a spot in the Oxford English Dictionary in 2017. But as its global reach grew, so did the backlash—transforming 'woke' from a badge of awareness into a buzzword for the culture wars.

'Woke' didn’t just get co-opted; it got weaponized. What once stood for social awareness now symbolizes the so-called 'excesses' of political correctness. Right-wing movements have latched onto this framing, pitching wokeism as a mortal threat to traditional values, national identity, and free speech. The term has spread far beyond its origins, becoming a pejorative in many regions.

This backlash isn’t limited to the West. In China, the sentiment has found a parallel in the term 'baizuo' (白左), or 'white left,' which emerged in the mid-2010s among certain online circles as a way to mock Western liberals, social justice advocates, and those seen as overly politically correct or naive on issues like immigration, race, and gender.

The global spread of 'wokeism' as the enemy has given far-right groups a rallying point, allowing them to unite under a shared mission: push back against what they see as leftist cultural dominance. They’re not just resisting progressivism—they’re framing it as an invasion, a threat to national and cultural integrity that must be fought off, whether the perceived enemy is foreign or domestic.

T he anti-elite rhetoric is a central element of the appeal of these new right movements, capitalizing on widespread distrust of political, economic, and cultural elites. Leaders tend to portray themselves as outsiders challenging a corrupt and out-of-touch establishment that has betrayed the interests of the "real" people. This narrative is often intertwined with conspiracy theories that accuse elites of conspiring to maintain power at the expense of the populace, fueling a populist backlash against traditional political institutions and norms.

Similar sentiments towards an out of touch, left leaning elite can be found around the world:

Racism and xenophobia are central to far-right rhetoric, often framed as the defense of “national identity.” The “Great Replacement” theory—a conspiracy claiming non-white populations are being funneled into Western countries to replace the native population—has moved from fringe to mainstream, fueling anti-immigrant sentiment and reinforcing narratives that depict non-Western people as threats to Western culture. These ideas have roots in colonial ideologies, where powers prioritized maintaining economic and political control over colonies, using racial hierarchies to justify exploitation. In modern times, these fears have evolved; far-right anxieties about demographic changes echo the colonial mindset, now focusing on cultural and racial identity. Similar dynamics are seen in places like India, where nationalist rhetoric targets minority groups in defense of religious and cultural purity, mirroring the colonial emphasis on control and dominance.

The real-world impact of this rhetoric is devastating. After recent elections where far-right candidates gained ground, the rise in hate crimes has been undeniable. Take France in 2022, for example. Following Marine Le Pen’s National Rally making serious gains in the parliamentary elections, there was a spike in hate crimes targeting immigrants and communities of color. It was as if the election results had opened the floodgates—what was once whispered behind closed doors was now shouted in public. In Lyon, an immigrant was viciously attacked by a group chanting nationalist slogans, and mosques across the country reported an increase in vandalism and threats.

This isn’t just a political shift—it’s a cultural one. The far-right has managed to make hate more socially acceptable than ever before. When figures like Le Pen talk about “saving French culture” or “stopping the invasion,” they aren’t just sending a subtle signal—they’re issuing a call to action. And with every election that boosts the far-right’s power, the message is clear: it’s open season on anyone who doesn’t fit into their vision of what a nation should be.

What we’re witnessing is a stark reminder that when hate is given a platform, it doesn’t just stay in the realm of politics—it spills out into the streets, with real life consequences.

O nce mostly limited to republicans in the United States, climate change denialism is prevalent among leaders of the new right. However, other leaders who acknowledge the danger of climate change but use it to advocate for authoritarian measures to protect the environment, often coupled with racist and xenophobic ideologies, often referred to as ecofascism. This ideology argues that only a strong, ethnically homogenous state can effectively combat environmental degradation, often blaming overpopulation and immigration for ecological crises.

The perpetrators of the Christchurch mosque shootings in New Zealand and the El Paso Walmart shooting in the United States both expressed ecofascist beliefs in their manifestos, linking environmental concerns with xenophobic and racist ideologies.

N right movements around the world have aggressively opposed what they term "gender ideology," a catch-all phrase used to criticize and delegitimize progressive views on gender identity and sexual orientation. This opposition includes resistance to LGBT rights, with some far-right groups embracing homophobic rhetoric while others adopt a more complex stance, termed "homonationalism" or "homofascism." In this context, some far-right factions co-opt LGBT rights as a symbol of Western superiority while simultaneously marginalizing non-Western cultures and immigrants who are perceived as intolerant of these rights.

The New Right has successfully positioned itself as the champion of "political incorrectness," rebelling against what they perceive as a stifling culture of political correctness enforced by liberal elites. This trend manifests in a deliberate use of provocative language and actions intended to shock and offend, which New Right leaders claim is an exercise of free speech. By rejecting political correctness, the New Right taps into widespread frustration with the perceived moralizing of progressive discourse, appealing to those who feel alienated by demands for inclusivity and sensitivity.

In many cases, they’ve also hijacked the notion of rebelliousness from the left, framing their provocations as acts of defiance against an overbearing liberal establishment, thus redefining rebellion as a challenge to progressive norms rather than traditional authority.

T he far-right's economic playbook is all over the place—at least in their rhetoric. Nationalists talk about pushing for protectionism, shutting down free trade, and pulling back from global engagement. Meanwhile, libertarians, in their speeches, are all about slashing regulations, freeing up the market, and keeping the government out of it. But despite these differences in what they say, they find common ground in their shared narrative that the current system is rigged—a setup, they claim, that’s enriching the elites, eroding national sovereignty, and leaving ordinary people behind.

Click on the terms below to explore Reddit’s historical data and see how relatively often these terms were mentioned by users across various subreddits (Reddit communities) over the last 14 years.