Over the past two decades, the most consequential political shift in liberal democracies has been the rise of the radical right, whether through new challenger parties or the radicalization of conservatives who had been mainstream. In this climate, the traditional right faces a grave problem: how to stem the loss of voters and influence against more radical competitors without abandoning its own liberal and constitutional principles.
The drivers of this drift are varied. One of them, often cited by conservatives, is the advance of identity politics on the left — known as wokism —, which has facilitated nationalist populists’ ability to mobilize a reaction. In countries like France and the United States, the leaders of the radical right have exploited progressive excesses, whether around race, gender, or the narratives of the Global North against the Global South.
“The outgoing French Interior Minister, Bruno Retailleau, describes radical Islam as an accelerator of France’s social and political instability”
In his pamphlet Ne rien céder, based on a talk delivered in London last March, the outgoing French interior minister and presidential hopeful, Bruno Retailleau, who has also been reelected as the leader of Les Républicains, describes radical Islam as an accelerator of France’s social and political instability. According to him, this Islam fosters terrorism and exploits democratic freedoms to spread intolerance, as well as practices and values contrary to French and European norms.
Retailleau rejects the maxim of Louis de Saint-Just: “there is no liberty for the enemies of liberty.” He argues that legislative and repressive measures are insufficient on their own. Instead, he sketches three pillars for a renewed Western identity that counteracts the relativism and consumerism which, in his view, have hollowed out the West’s moral core and ceded ground to the Islamist “grand narrative.” He calls to rebalance freedom by moving it away from what he regards as the absolutist conception that prevails in human-rights jurisprudence; to confront what he terms oikophobia, a disdain for one’s own civilization that, according to him, fosters a convergence between Islamist separatism and certain woke currents; and to revive civic pride in national history, in belonging to a civilization, and in transmitting these sentiments to younger generations while avoiding any form of ethnicism. The caution is timely: in recent years ethnicist currents have resurfaced, from the rhetoric of “White Britain” in the United Kingdom to identity movements elsewhere.
“Retailleau criticizes international courts for their maximalist rights jurisprudence; here the center-right walks a tightrope”
Retailleau insists that genuine conservatism must reject ethnonationalism and defend these priorities. Yet his exposition reveals the dilemmas that haunt the mainstream right as it tries to stay firm against its radical flank. The first concerns the rule of law. Like many conservatives, Retailleau criticizes international courts — the European Court of Justice (CJEU) and the European Court of Human Rights (ECHR) — for a maximalist rights jurisprudence. He points to notable cases where terrorists or other criminals prevail over state authorities, episodes that the radical right uses to justify limiting judicial independence. There are instances of overreach and political backlash. But here the center-right walks a tightrope: how to recalibrate the judicial limits — especially for transnational courts — without undermining the safeguards that protect constitutional democracy? And how to explain necessarily technical legal reforms in a way that clearly distinguishes them from the far broader illiberal ambitions of the radical right?
A second dilemma concerns freedom of expression. Retailleau places himself in the classical republican camp by defending the right to critique religion as part of French laicity. Yet drawing principled lines in pluralist societies is difficult. The current controversies — in France and elsewhere — about what counts as antisemitic or Islamophobic speech demonstrate how tense and politically exploitable these frontiers can be. The temptation to score points against opponents often outweighs the painstaking work of setting norms that protect freedom of expression while avoiding incitement and harassment.
“His call for pride in national history and belonging to a civilization risks blurring the line with the radical right if not carefully framed”
A third dilemma lies at the intersection of nation and Europe. The appeal by Retailleau to pride in national history and belonging to a civilization risks blurring the line with the radical right if not carefully worded. Most far-right parties are firmly nationalist and hostile to supranational integration. By conviction or convenience, they lean toward international autocrats — Putin, Xi, or Trump — who prefer dealing with fragmented European states rather than a coherent European Union. In current geopolitics, pro-Europeanism versus nationalism is a defining split between the moderate and radical wings of the right. For small and medium-sized states, like the European ones, nationalist retrenchment can quickly become anti-integration and, in practice, subservience.
For now, Retailleau, like many moderate conservatives elsewhere, seems to dodge the more controversial aspects of these dilemmas. Ambiguity may provide short-term electoral flexibility, but it is not a governing strategy. If the center-right wants to endure as a credible force, it will need to draw clearer lines: reform the judicial frameworks without undermining the rule of law; safeguard freedom of expression without slipping into intolerance; and articulate a form of Europeanism that resists both ethnonationalism and geopolitical naiveté. Otherwise, it risks being absorbed—electorally and intellectually—by the same radicalism it claims to oppose.
