The far-right is moving closer to the old dream of a ‘nationalist international’

It’s rare to see Santiago Abascal, the leader of the far-right Spanish political party Vox, in such an optimistic, almost euphoric mood. “The stars have aligned [...] We’re living in fortunate times,” he proclaimed from the lectern. And he ventured: “While we haven’t yet managed to become the [biggest party in Spain], we’re not so far away.”

Strictly speaking, Vox was more than five million votes behind the conservative Popular Party during the 2023 Spanish elections. And it’s still more than 20 points behind the traditional right in the latest polls. Yet the gap between prediction and reality didn’t seem to matter to anyone in attendance. Abascal wasn’t speaking at a forum for analysis, but rather at a gathering intended for camaraderie, triumphalism, and networking. On December 4, at the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC) in Buenos Aires, no one was proven wrong: everyone applauded and was applauded. No one questioned anything.

One after another, illustrious names took the floor. There was Lara Trump, Donald’s daughter-in-law, as well as Eduardo Bolsonaro, son of the former Brazilian president. Eduardo Verástegui made an appearance: he’s a celebrity within the Mexican far-right, an actor and rapper who dedicates songs to Trump. And there was Ben Shapiro, an extremist commentator with millions of followers on social media and YouTube.

Two Argentine ministers in the cabinet of Javier Milei sent video messages. Agustín Laje, a local libertarian crusader against “the leftists,” was in attendance, as was the nationalist guru Steve Bannon. Over the past decade, he set up The Movement — a Brussels-based organization that acts as an “evangelizing engine” for the new extreme right. While the project appears to have lost steam, Bannon still maintains the aura of a charismatic character (albeit one without the same influence as before).

Unlike other extremist conclaves — which are dominated by the rhetoric of self-victimization — in Buenos Aires the tone was triumphant. And this makes sense: lately, the extreme-right is tasting the honey of success. A handful of winning names peppered the speeches: Trump, Nayib Bukele, Marine Le Pen, Giorgia Meloni, Viktor Orbán...

Abascal cited the cases of recent far-right victories in Austria and the Netherlands. However, this was lost on the Buenos Aires-based parishioners, who had a clear favorite. President Javier Milei — the star, “The Lion” — took over the event with a speech about the “historic opportunity” to “change the world” that victories like his offer. But to take advantage of the moment, “it’s not enough to [govern] well,” he warned. The former TV panelist stressed that the far-right must persevere in organizing itself internationally for the “cultural battle” that awaits. This is an idea that he already expressed back in July, when he and Italian Prime Minister Meloni advocated for a global far-right alliance.

At the Buenos Aires event, in the front row, a gray-haired man in his fifties applauded, while wearing a headset that provided a simultaneous translation. Milei thanked the gentleman and his wife for their contribution to this global network. Without the services of Matt and Mercy Schlapp, Milei added, he wouldn’t have been able to meet Trump at his Mar-a-Lago residence this past November.

But who exactly are the Schlapps? Well, Matt chairs the CPAC, a forum that has, for half-a-century, been pushing the Republican Party toward cutthroat neoliberal economic policy and ultra-conservative social policy. CPAC advocates for bans on abortion and massive tax cuts.

Meanwhile, Mercy Schlapp, Trump’s former advisor, completes a tandem of well-known hawks who, more than five years ago, took an ambitious leap of faith by starting to hold CPAC meetings outside the U.S. as well. The Schlapps aren’t subtle when it comes to choosing venues: Orbán’s Hungary, Bolsonaro’s Brazil, or Milei’s Argentina.

CPAC is an example of that desire to weave together the alliances that Milei praises. But the clean-cut and smiling Schlapps are far from alone in this endeavor. “The international integration of the far-right through think tanks and allied foundations [intends] to drag the parties into their positions: neoliberal in economic terms and reactionary in social terms. This is a phenomenon that dates back to the 1970s in the United States but has spread to Latin America and Europe. It’s now experiencing a strong acceleration,” explains Anna López, a professor of political science at the University of Valencia.

One of the entities that’s stepping on that accelerator is the Political Network for Values (PNfV). Two days before the meeting in Argentina, the PNfV held a summit in Madrid, where European, American, and African far-right figures gathered. Many activists participated, as well as politicians from two of the three far-right parties represented in the European Parliament. There were also smaller delegations from the European People’s Party bloc. The most prominent political leader present was José Antonio Kast, the runner-up in the 2021 Chilean presidential elections. He was among a list of 50 speakers, some of whom are defenders of conversion therapy and opposed to abortion even in cases of rape.

The importance of having a few beers

CPAC and the PNfV are not twin entities. To begin with, the first is U.S.-centric, while the second is more decentralized. And the PNfV was founded more recently, in 2014. Still, there are numerous similarities between the two. The main one is the common purpose: to serve as a platform and a meeting point. If CPAC organizes its big events in the U.S. and abroad, the PNfV imitates the formula with its “transatlantic summits,” which it has been holding for 10 years in cities such as New York, Budapest, and Madrid. “Don’t miss the opportunity to meet each other and make connections,” Kast urged the attendees during his speech in Madrid, just before the “networking lunch.”

“Most of these networks depend on one guy meeting another and having a few beers,” explains Connor Mulhern. He’s familiar with the global swarm of associations through his work as principal researcher at Reactionary International.

At least 25 organizations collaborate with or have connections to the PNfV, including a variety of Spanish politicians, lobbying groups, and religious think tanks, such as the Catholic Association of Propagandists. There are also entities from Mexico — including the Broad Front for the Family — Poland, Hungary, and the U.S. The U.S. is where pillars for the PNfV are based, such as the Alliance in Defense of the Family and the International Organization for the Family.

The latter is chaired by Brian Brown, promoter of another key event: the World Congress of Families (WCF), which has been held since 1997 in various cities around the world. Its origins lie in a collaboration between American and Russian intellectuals, who were concerned about demographic changes. The next WCF will take place in Mexico, where it has been held since 2022.

Unlike CPAC or the PNfV, the WCF, under the leadership of Brown, minimizes the role of active politicians. Among the conveners of the 2022 congress was CitizenGo, whose board of trustees includes Brown himself. The international arm of Hazte Oír, CitizenGo is one of Spain’s most important contributions to this international network. Its president is cyberactivist Ignacio Arsuaga, who, together with Jaime Mayor Oreja, makes up the duo of Spanish names with the most weight in the network. Mayor Oreja is Spain’s former Minister of the Interior from the Popular Party, as well as the honorary president of the PNfV. He’s also one of the promoters of One of Us, a platform of European anti-choice entities.

The “fundamental role of extremist Catholics and radical evangelicals” is obvious, explains journalist Xavier Rius Sant, who has written extensively about Vox. Researcher Anna López agrees: for her, “religious-based movements” have played a central role in the radicalization of the extreme-right and the articulation of its ideas. She says that these movements are products that are made in the USA, which are subsequently imported by Europe and Latin America.

In López’s opinion, these organizations advocate for “restrictive visions of family and gender” and harbor an ideology marked by “violent masculinity.” They offer the ideal base to combat “socialism” and so-called “wokeism,” the demons of the extreme-right. The old desire of Bannon — a longtime promoter of what was called “nationalist international,” a term with a paradoxical meaning — is now approaching, driven by the incessant activism of fundamentalists.

Washington, Budapest... and Madrid

When asked about the main cities of the network, the American researcher Connor Mulhern and the Italian historian Steven Forti — who coordinates ARENAS, an inter-university project that looks at extremist narratives — agree in citing two: Washington and Budapest. Prime Minister Orbán is the explanation for the influence of the Hungarian capital, a frequent venue for meetings of leaders and activists, such as the 2023 Demographic Summit. The Hungarian influence on the PNfV is so marked that Neil Datta, director of the European Forum on Sexual and Reproductive Rights, considers it a battering ram for Orbán’s “soft diplomacy.” In the orbit of his political party, Fidesz, there are also several think tanks that operate internationally, such as the Foundation for a Civic Hungary or the Center for Fundamental Rights.

And what about Madrid? Mulhern and Forti agree again: Madrid is becoming more prominent in these circles. “Although it’s been one of the last to arrive on the scene, Vox has played [up] its links with Latin America well,” Forti notes. “Madrid is a more important space for organization than Miami for the Latin American right,” Mulhern sums up. Rius Sant believes that Abascal is interested in being “a bridge between Spain and Latin America” and that Vox “has softened its discourse on Latin gangs, to instead focus on [targeting] Muslims,” he analyzes. Orbán himself has detected Vox’s potential. This past March, a branch of the Center for Fundamental Rights opened in Madrid, responding to the Hungarian leader’s desire for influence in Latin America. And Marine Le Pen’s niece, Marion Maréchal — the great hope of the Le Pen clan — is also setting her sights on Madrid. In 2020, together with Abascal’s political partners, such as Kiko Méndez-Monasterio, they opened a branch of the Higher Institute of Sociology, Economics and Politics, a kind of right-wing academy, with its headquarters in Lyon.

Vox’s efforts to internationalize predate its electoral emergence. In 2017, when Abascal was still an unknown youngster, he attended a summit in Koblenz, Germany, where he met with Marine Le Pen, the Italian politician Matteo Salvini, the German Frauke Petry, and the Dutch extremist Geert Wilders. Then, in 2018 and 2019, he began his efforts to make Vox known in the United States. After it won 52 seats in the Spanish general elections of November 2019, the party began its annual VIVA gatherings, which it has tried to turn into international meeting points. This year, Le Pen and Milei showed up. And, perhaps more discreetly, the Schlapps also passed through VIVA 24.

Vox even has its own summit. The Madrid Forum — an initiative of its foundation, Disenso — has already held three meetings aimed at strengthening ties with the Latin American far-right: Bogotá 2022, Lima 2023, and Río de la Plata 2024. Through Disenso, Vox also cooperates with the Washington-based Heritage Foundation. The think tank, with more than half-a-century of activity, has close ties to Trump’s inner circle.

The question arises by itself: why is a nationalist party so busy with international tasks? Rius Sant doesn’t discount financial motivations. For instance, Vox has received a loan of $9.2 million from a bank close to Orbán. But he believes that this is “secondary.”

“Abascal’s obsession is to be seen as an equal with people who win, so that no one takes him for a pariah, a loser, a crutch of the [more successful and mainstream] Popular Party,” he explains.

Forti notes that the entire extreme-right has understood that, to win a “global” fight, it needs to present itself as a “transnational” movement. Sociologist Beatriz Acha, who has written extensively about the rise of the far-right, believes that these parties are seeking “visibility, respectability, and legitimacy.” Still, she doubts if they’re truly coordinated. “There are many meetings and photos… but what results? In practice, they continue to be divided in the European Parliament,” Acha says. She sees this international hyperactivity as a symptom of a global network that’s overwhelming the individual political parties.

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