Right-Wing Populism, Religion, and Civilizational Identity

Abstract

In recent years, Christian language and symbols have played an increasingly prominent role in right-wing populist rhetoric across many western countries. The form of religious expression in right-wing populist rhetoric corresponds to the kind of religiousness that characterizes the contextual factors under which rhetorical communication occurs. In making this case, this article analyzes salient themes found in speeches, interviews, and manifesto content to uncover dynamic similarities and dissimilarities between right-wing populist parties in two religiously different contexts: the Alternative für Deutschland (“Alternative for Germany”) and Fratelli d’Italia (“Brothers of Italy”). First, I discuss how the vertical and horizontal tensions within the populist framework combine with notions of civilizational identity and show the extent to which positive references to Christianity are combined with negative references to Islam. Next, I demonstrate how these parties differ in their treatment of the transcendent and doctrinal qualities of religious commitment. Lastly, I show the ways in which religion is used to help brighten symbolic boundaries, as well as the functions served by the dramatic and emotional elements that are embedded in the process of boundary formation. In light of the respective contextual factors that mediate the nature of religious expression, I discuss how understanding the social logic of this rhetoric can grant valuable insight into what has become such a critical feature of populism’s social character.

1. Introduction

In recent years, right-wing populist (RWP) politicians and parties have made references to Christianity a central part of their mode of rhetorical communication. This centralization has been particularly palpable in the U.S. and western Europe (Althoff 2018; Cremer 2021, 2023a, 2023b; Gorski 2021; Ozzano [2019] 2021), though other notable examples can be found in central and eastern European countries such as Poland (Morieson 2023), Hungary (Ádám and Bozóki 2016), and the Czech Republic (Slačálek and Svobodová 2018). As others have noted (e.g., Brubaker 2017a; Cremer 2022; Innerarity and Giansante 2025), this frequent employment of Christian symbols and religious-laced rhetoric presents a puzzle to scholars of religion and politics, for these rhetorical frames are often found in highly secular contexts (e.g., France, the Netherlands, etc.), and even when found in more religious contexts, such religious expression is often put forth by relatively secular candidates such as the case of Donald Trump in the U.S. Moreover, in a study on 16 European countries, Marcinkiewicz and Dassonneville (2022) find that there is no evidence of a positive relationship between religious commitment and RWP support throughout the vast majority of Europe, and that religious individuals are even substantially less likely to vote for such parties in many of these countries.1 Still more, Christian communities have been shown to react negatively to and create a social taboo around far-right populism (Cremer 2021). Despite these paradox-creating conditions, RWP actors have increasingly relied on Christian language and symbols in the past decade or so. Understanding how and why populists rely on religious frames, as well as the conditions that meaningfully affect the form of religiosity expressed, can grant valuable insight into what has become such a critical feature of populism’s social character.

A salient feature of the underlying logic of this religious rhetoric rests in the asserted civilizational tensions within the framework of populist antagonism (Brubaker 2017a). Populism has undoubtedly become one of the most frequently discussed topics among social scientists in recent years, though as some have observed, its religio-civilizational aspects remain understudied (e.g., Morieson 2023; Mudde 2007; Ozzano [2019] 2021; Yilmaz and Morieson 2021). Research on the links between religion and populism within the framework of civilizational populism is relatively new, leaving much concerning these complicated relationships to be rather foggy and conceptually muddled.2

To help reach a more complete understanding of this puzzling use of religious rhetoric, this article considers how contextual factors pertaining to religion are reflected in the nature of the frames put forth by RWP actors. As it is not possible to thoroughly discuss how the relationship between religion and RWP developments has unfolded in every country, this article analyzes frames and rhetoric in two different contexts where RWP success has recently occurred: the Alternative für Deutschland (“Alternative for Germany” (AfD)) and Fratelli d’Italia (“Brothers of Italy” (FdI)). As will be discussed in greater detail, these two contexts offer two substantially different religious landscapes for analysis. Whereas the vast majority of AfD support is concentrated in the highly secularized eastern regions of Germany (Froese and Pfaff 2005; Smith 2012; Statistisches Bundesamt 2025), the FdI’s rhetoric is directed toward citizens in the more religious context of Italy (Pew 2016; Schwörer 2018).3 A comparison between these two considerably different contexts offers a promising opportunity to better understand the general mechanisms underneath the varieties of religiosity that RWP actors express.

Using speeches, interviews, and manifesto content, this article analyzes the ways in which these parties thematically converge and diverge from one another, and explains how each party’s rhetoric reflects the religiousness of the respective context. As this article is concerned with understanding the conceptual and qualitative texture of rhetorical content, I do not suggest that this connection between context and rhetorical form can be treated as a universal constant of empirical certainty. Rhetorical similarities and dissimilarities between these two cases of civilizational populism are presented, and implications concerning supply-side actors’ tactics of interpretive resonance are discussed. I first provide an overview of right-wing populist developments and the religious landscapes in the two contexts at hand. I then discuss the commonalities and distinctions between the AfD and FdI with respect to how the populist framework combines with notions of civilizational identity and show the extent to which positive references to Christianity are combined with negative references to Islam. Next, I turn to the understudied transcendent and doctrinal qualities of religion in RWP rhetoric and demonstrate how these parties differ in their treatment of these religious components. Lastly, I show the ways in which religion is used to help brighten symbolic boundaries, with a particular emphasis on the largely overlooked dramatic, mythological, and emotional elements that are embedded in this process of boundary formation. It should be noted that there will inevitably be some conceptual overlap between these overarching themes. Prior to clarifying these patterns and their social logic, however, focus must first be directed toward the contextual particularities in which this rhetorical communication is engulfed.

2. Right-Wing Populism and Religion in Germany and Italy

In recent years, both Germany and Italy have witnessed staggering rises in RWP success. Whereas RWP parties were before often described as fringe insurgent groups, these two contexts (particularly the latter) grant insight into how populism manifests itself when in a position of power, as opposed to being on the margins of the political arena. This is truer of the FdI than the AfD, for the FdI had a relatively comfortable victory over all other parties in the 2022 Italian general election, whereas the AfD has become the second largest party in Germany with the recent 2025 federal election. Before unpacking the dynamic patterns of religious rhetoric put forth by these two parties, I here provide a brief overview of the religious landscapes and recent RWP developments in the contexts under examination.

2.1. Alternative for Germany

Originally presenting themselves as primarily Eurosceptic, the AfD was founded in 2013 when they received only 4.7% of the vote in the federal election of that year (Federal Returning Officer 2013), falling short of the threshold to enter the Bundestag (i.e., German federal parliament). Between 2013 and 2017, the AfD made a strong ideological shift, with anti-immigrant and anti-Muslim sentiment becoming the most central part of their party’s platform (Stier et al. 2017). Within this timeframe, 8,244,014 migrants arrived to Germany (net migration of 3,034,516), with 2,136,954 immigrants and refugees (net migration of 1,139,402) arriving to the country in 2015 alone (Statistisches Bundesamt 2024). Divides within former Chancellor Angela Merkel’s Christian Democratic Union of Germany (CDU) manifested themselves largely due to Merkel’s commitment to liberal immigration policy. By 2018, approximately one in four people in Germany had a migrant background (Statistisches Bundesamt 2019). Public opinion on Muslim immigration also changed drastically at the same time these demographic changes unfolded. In 2016, for example, 41.4 percent of Germans agreed that entry of Muslims into Germany should be prohibited, which nearly doubles the reported percentage in the 2011 edition of the survey. In 2016, one in two Germans agreed that they feel like a foreigner in their own country; a figure which increased by 19.8 percent between the 2011 and 2016 studies (Decker et al. 2016). In the 2017 federal election, the AfD nearly tripled their support since 2013, receiving 12.6% of the vote to become the third largest political party in Germany just four years after their founding. While the AfD surged within this timeframe, more established parties such as the CDU and the Social Democratic Party of Germany (SPD) saw drops of 8.6 and 5.2 percent, respectively (Lees 2018).

While the AfD had a slight dip in support in the 2021 federal election, earning 10.4% of the vote, this minor setback would be short-lived. In the recent 2025 federal election, the AfD doubled their support since 2021, receiving 20.8% of the vote and, in doing so, became the second largest political party in Germany. These results marked the greatest success for a far-right party in Germany since WWII. It is commonly speculated that this success may be partially attributed to a rather large spike in migrant arrivals that occurred in 2022 (2,665,772 total arrivals, for a net migration of 1,462,089) (Statistisches Bundesamt 2024).

The rise of the AfD has been no more pronounced than in the former East Germany. Among the sixteen states in Germany, the five states where the AfD had their greatest success all came from the states of the former German Democratic Republic (GDR): Thuringia (38.6%), Saxony (37.3%), Saxony-Anhalt (37.1%), Mecklenburg-Vorpommern (35.0%), and Brandenburg (32.5%). The AfD has swept the East decisively, as no other party reached even 20% of the vote in any of these states (Statistisches Bundesamt 2025). Despite often using Christian language and symbols, the AfD has not garnered much support from the more religious western states of Germany, but rather from East Germany, which is said to be the least religious society in the world (Froese and Pfaff 2005; Smith 2012). Data on religion in Germany (East and West combined) show that 24 percent of all Germans are Roman Catholic; 22 percent are Protestant, and 46 percent are unaffiliated (FOWID 2023). The five states of the former East Germany are the five least religious states in the country, reporting an unaffiliated population ranging between 66.0 and 79.6 percent (Zensusdatenbank 2011). A study covering 30 countries published by Tom Smith (2012) shows that East Germans are the least likely to believe in God, and the most likely to identify as atheists. Moreover, Albanese (2023) finds that the right-wing in eastern Germany have become significantly less religious between 1999 and 2017 in terms of church attendance, belief in God, and self-assessed religiosity, whereas moderates and the left-wing have not shown any significant religious changes within this timeframe. Irreligious voters in Germany are more likely to vote for the AfD than for mainstream parties (e.g., CDU, SPD) (Siegers and Jedinger 2021), and AfD support holds a negative relationship with church commitment (Huber and Yendell 2019). In terms of church attendance, self-identification, and religious belief, the AfD is the second least religious constituency (second only to the far-left populist party Die Linke) among all parties in Germany (Albanese 2021). The AfD may very well be the least religious right-wing constituency in the world.

2.2. Brothers of Italy

Since the early 1990s, Italy has been fertile ground for populist parties across the ideological spectrum, including parties such as Lega (LSP), Forza Italia (FI), Italia dei Valori (IdV), Italia Viva (IV), and Movimento 5 Stelle (M5S). Whereas other populist parties in Italy have received a great deal of attention from social scientists, very little scholarly focus has been directed toward FdI, as the party has only recently achieved notable electoral success. The FdI was founded in December of 2012 due to a split within the People of Freedom (PdL) party. The 2013 general election took place just a few months after the FdI was founded, an election in which they only received 2.0 percent of the vote. The FdI saw a minor increase in support in the 2018 general election, receiving 4.4 percent of the vote, as well as a small increase between the 2014 and 2019 European Parliament elections, rising from 3.7 to 6.4 percent of the vote. Between the 2018 and 2022 general elections, FdI support skyrocketed from 4.4 to 26.0 percent, earning more votes than any other party in 2022. Within these four years, MS5 and LSP halved their support, and FI support declined considerably. In the 2024 European Parliament election, FdI received the most votes with support coming from 28.8 percent of the electorate (Ministry of the Interior 2013–2024).

The FdI has been successful in constructing authenticity through an uncooperative oppositional posture in the conducive context of a political culture known to have strong populist sensibilities. The image of sincerity that is so central to populist supply-side actors’ self-presentation is more effectively realized by maintaining an “outsider” position that stands in opposition to the parties that have allegedly failed the common people, rather than compromise and cooperate with the establishment (Moffitt 2019). Those who take the latter route of political action appear less likely committed to challenging the status quo and/or the establishment-imposed social problems to which ordinary citizens are subjected. Between the 2018 and 2022 general elections, for example, Silvio Berlusconi’s FI and Matteo Salvini’s LSP strengthened their alliance by reaching agreement over several important matters, perhaps most notably of which was their approval of then Prime Minister Mario Draghi’s national unity government. The FdI, on the other hand, did not join the other twelve member parties of the Draghi government and, in doing so, was able to more successfully create an image of populist authenticity. Unlike the FI and LSP, the FdI was not seen as compromising and cooperating with establishment politicians, instead preserving what was perceived as a more genuine challenger status with firm moral convictions. Many parties that entered the Draghi government (e.g., FI, LSP, MS5) saw sharp drops in electoral support, whereas the non-compliant stance of the FdI proved to be more successful with their rise in 2022.

A wide range of ideological classifications have been used to describe the FdI, with ambiguities surfacing primarily because of the party’s unclear feelings toward fascism. The FdI rejects claims that suggest they have neo-fascist sympathies, whereas some critics have been unconvinced because of the party’s close ties to the former National Alliance party (the successor of the neo-fascist Italian Social Movement party (MSI)), as well as the preservation of MSI’s flame in FdI’s party symbol. Other ambiguities pertaining to ideological classification arise because the FdI have shifted on some key issues. For example, the FdI did not originally exhibit anti-immigrant and Eurosceptic stances in 2013, though radicalized on such issues after 2017 (Donà 2022). Since being in power, the FdI has softened their Eurosceptic stance to an extent (Baldini et al. 2022), though remains firmly opposed to the rise of Muslim immigration, even going so far as to proposing a naval blockade to prevent migrant arrivals.

The proximity of the Vatican and the historical contribution of Catholicism have been noted as important details in understanding the close links between Catholicism and Italian political culture. Unlike Germany, Italy is a highly religious country in terms of self-identification and belief in God. Christians make up 85.1 percent of the population, with 81.7 percent identifying as Catholic. Only 11.6 percent of the population is irreligious, and only 3.1 percent identify as atheists (Pew 2016). 74.0 percent of the population reports a belief in God (Schwörer 2018). Although the majority of Italians believe in God and identify as Catholics, it is worth noting that religious practice is not particularly high (Schwörer 2018) and that the country has been secularizing modestly in recent years (Cipriani 2021).4 For these reasons, Italian Catholicism has been described as a somewhat passive or “low-intensity” Catholicism (Diotallevi 2016). A comparison between the two religiously different contexts of Germany and Italy can help tap into the dynamics underlying RWP forms of religious expression.

3. Civilizational Populism

Understood by its “thin-centered” conceptualization, populism is “an ideology that considers society to be ultimately separated into two homogeneous and antagonistic groups, ‘the pure people’ versus ‘the corrupt elite’” (Mudde 2004, p. 543). With this minimalist definition, populism is a worldview that believes society should serve the morally pure “common people,” whereas the corrupt “elite” pursue self-interested action to the detriment of ordinary citizens. Whereas this conceptualization specifies a vertical opposition between elites and the common people, Brubaker (2017b) argues that there is also a horizontal opposition (i.e., outside groups and forces) that intersects with this vertical opposition. With this added conceptual layering, it is not only political elites whom the common people are antagonized by, but also the outside groups that political elites allegedly give special treatment to and/or cooperate with. With this conceptual intersection, the framework of populism is not limited to concerns with political elites, but also the allegedly corrupt relations that constitute the horizontal opposition.

Concerning the horizontal opposition within the populist framework, concerns of “the other” are not only felt in narrow nationalist terms, but rather populist apprehension has increasingly taken on a broader civilizational form (Brubaker 2017a). This is not said to suggest that notions pertaining to the nation have disappeared or broke apart from the populist worldview. Populist anxieties are still expressed in nationalist terms, though in recent years, this type of nativist expression has drifted toward and become incorporated into constructions of civilizational divides. This reformulation in which populism emphasizes its civilizational character is intensified by the perceived danger of an Islamic takeover. The combination of populist antagonism and civilizational identity is further facilitated when civilizations are understood as being characterized by and firmly constricted to religious classifications, allowing religion to surface as a salient cultural identifier in reaction to Muslim immigration. The shift from national to religio-civilizational categorizations is captured well by Casanova (2012, p. 489), who writes:

Only a few decades ago immigrants from Turkey in Germany were viewed as Turks and not as Muslims, immigrants from Pakistan in the UK were viewed as Pakistani and not as Muslims, and immigrants from the Maghreb in France were viewed as Moroccans, Algerians or Tunisians, or generally as Maghrebis, and not as Muslims. But today throughout Europe immigrants from Muslim countries are not only primarily classified as Muslims, but they have come to represent ‘Islam’ with all the baggage.

While Huntington (1996) made the case that global conflict would become increasingly framed in civilizational terms, these divides have only recently been incorporated into conceptualizations of populism. As Morieson (2023, p. 3) notes, civilizational tensions should not only be understood in the “Huntingtonian sense of a clash between Islam and the West, but also as a conflict within Western civilization between ‘the people’ and traitorous ‘elites’ who had turned away from Western Judeo-Christian values.” The corrupt elite that occupies the vertical opposition of populism are thought to be in cooperation with the civilizational others who comprise the horizontal opposition; outsiders who seek to strip the morally pure people of their cultural values and way of life. Civilizational populism revolves around the intersection of the vertical and horizontal antagonisms of populism, as well as the incorporation of this intersection into the civilizational frame of a religious-based “us versus them.” Although it is possible for this type of populism to be expressed in conjunction with religious doctrine or the transcendent components of religiosity (e.g., Mezzanotti and Løland 2024), such religious qualities are not definitionally essential to the formulation of civilizational populism. More conceptually foundational components include the interplay between the cultural identity markers of pure ingroups and dangerous outgroups; the corrupt elite’s alleged preference for the latter at the expense of former, and the emphasis of insurmountable differences between envisaged religio-civilizational classifications.

Despite its highly secular constituency, the AfD claims to be the “only Christian party left in Germany” (Focus 2017). The will to self-present in such a manner and preserve Christianity does not often revolve around a positive reference to Christianity alone, but rather such references consistently couple with a negative stance toward the danger that Islamic civilization poses. For example, the AfD presented a motion to establish an International Day against the persecution of Christians. The AfD suggested the date of February 15th because it was on this date in 2015 that ISIL released a video showing the killing of 21 Coptic Christians (Fracassi 2023). When emphasis is placed on the importance of Christianity, this importance is often expressed with the negative reference point of Islam and/or multiculturalism. Another example of this link can be found in the AfD (2017, p. 46) manifesto:

This [German] culture is derived from three sources: firstly, the religious traditions of Christianity; secondly, the scientific and humanistic heritage, whose ancient roots were renewed during the period of Renaissance and the Age of Enlightenment; and thirdly, Roman law, upon which our constitutional state is founded … The ideology of multiculturalism is blind to history and puts on a par imported cultural trends with the indigenous culture, thereby degrading the value system of the latter. The AfD views this as a serious threat to social peace and the survival of the nation state as a cultural unit. It is the duty of the government and civil society to confidently protect German cultural identity as the predominant culture.5

This threat is conceived of as operating at both the political and interpersonal realms of society: “The AfD demands the general prohibition of full-body veiling in public spaces and in the public service … Public servants should not wear a headscarf. At schools neither teachers nor students should be allowed to wear headscarves.” Such religious expression impedes “cultural integration and social coexistence” (AfD 2017, p. 49). This cultural incompatibility in combination with the rise in Muslim immigration is indicative of a looming Islamic takeover of German society. In invoking this sense of crisis, the AfD rely on frames of ethnic replacement, often mentioning that the higher birth rates of Muslim immigrants in comparison to Germans will bring about harmful ethnic-cultural changes (e.g., AfD 2017, pp. 40–41). Relatedly, an AfD billboard received criticism for showing an image of a pregnant white woman with the caption “New Germans? We’ll make them ourselves” (Özvatan and Forchtner 2019, p. 212). Such frames are closely positioned to Renaud Camus’ “Great Replacement” conspiracy, which asserts that globalist elites seek to replace white European populations with non-white, Muslim-majority populations.

The AfD characterize Muslim immigration as a process of invasion and reject the possibility of assimilation. This type of characterization relies on identifying inherently nefarious qualities within Islam as both a belief system and practice; qualities which are allegedly unique to Islam, and are necessarily oriented toward the demolition of other already-existing religions, cultural values, and legal systems. As co-founder of the AfD Alexander Gauland once remarked “Islam is not a religion like Catholicism or Protestantism. Intellectually, Islam is always linked to the overthrow of the state. Therefore, the Islamization of Germany poses a threat” (Kern 2016).

Concerning their respective forms of civilizational populism, there are similarities and dissimilarities between the AfD and FdI. Similar to the AfD, the FdI’s reference to the importance of fostering Christianity is often attached to the negative influence of Islam. Immigration is framed as a problem of security created by the process of “Islamization,” which will allegedly dismantle the Judeo-Christian roots of western civilization (FdI 2017). Party leader Giorgia Meloni frequently expresses such concerns with Muslim immigration, which she believes “endangers the Greek, Roman and Christian identity of Europe” (Meloni 2014). In the more religious context of Italy, the severity of this threat is stressed by highlighting the cherished Christian values and identity of the country. The AfD also discusses the value in protecting Christian society from Islam, though the FdI more frequently invokes notions pertaining to the great significance of their Christian history when discussing the threat of Muslim immigration. Another difference between the AfD and FdI worth mentioning is that there are some cases in which the latter party puts forward a positive reference to Christian values and civilization without connecting this positive description to the looming threat of Islam. The AfD, on the other hand, virtually never speak about the importance of Christianity without also including the vital urgency of protecting their society from Islam. Although it is not always the case, the FdI sometimes lets this positive reference stand alone in romanticized form, often by historicizing the value of Christian culture in Italy and thereby presenting it as inextricable to the civilizational fabric: “In the name of the sovereign people, we fight for that idea of Europe that we fell in love with so many years ago. A community of ancient peoples that after centuries of fratricidal wars finds in their Greco-Roman and Christian roots the original foundation of a common belonging” (Meloni 2014). This type of rhetoric is here again put forth in connection to the cultural exceptionalism of Italy without mention of Muslim immigration:

Italy is the most important cultural deposit of Humanity. Always a beacon of civilization, culture, art and science. The homeland of beauty and well-made, the place where most of the archaeological and architectural heritage of the world resides, the center of Christianity and the Renaissance.

(FdI 2017)

Although this strong admiration for Christian culture is sometimes expressed without reference to immigration, there are also cases in which this negative reference is invoked while stressing the need to protect Christian identity. Like the AfD, the FdI rely on civilizationist frames that parallel the “Great Replacement” narrative:

A Europe that, denying its Judeo-Christian and classical roots, subordinates the needs of identity and autonomy of peoples to those of a radical universalism that operates in harmony with an abstract multiculturalist principle, from which also derives the consent to the indiscriminate and uncontrolled access of people from other continents in numbers that prefigure a real ethnic substitution.

(FdI 2017)

Both the AfD and FdI exhibit a strong political distrust of elites, who they contend work covertly and pursue corrupt, self-interested action to benefit themselves and harm ordinary citizens. This form of political resentment is not limited to those who comprise the vertical opposition of populist antagonism, but it is also directed toward the cooperation between groups within the vertical and horizontal axes of the populist framework. The AfD firmly opposes the globalist financing of building mosques in Germany, which they contend would violate their Constitution, disrupt German society, and lead to religious radicalism (AfD 2017, p. 48). The AfD contends that Muslim outsiders are receiving preferential treatment, even in small-scale situations such as in German schools:

Special rights for Muslim pupils cannot be justified. Without exception, Muslim pupils have to participate in sports, school trips, and other events mandatory for all students. Islamic pupils and their parents have to unreservedly respect and accept female teachers as representatives of our values and our state system.

(AfD 2017, p. 54)

Like the AfD, the FdI warns of a “gentle invasion” of Muslim immigration that is taking place through the financing of Mosques, which they contend will lead to greater Islamic influence in the West to the detriment of the Christian identity (FdI 2017). The FdI warns of the bureaucratic and technocratic character of the European Union (EU), which in their view, has consistently undervalued Christian values, instead turning toward principles of multiculturalism and globalism. Meloni has even gone so far as claiming that the EU seeks to put into effect “the Soviet plan to destroy national and religious identities” (quoted in Sondel-Cedarmas 2022, p. 65). In her 2022 speech at the Conservative Political Action Conference, Meloni points to secularism, far-left ideology, and the EU as working in tandem to undermine the basis of Christian identity and deplete it of its cultural content:

I see the woke ideology destroying the foundations of the natural family, attacking life, insulting religion, changing words, and even imposing new graphic signs. Only a few months ago, European Union bureaucrats wrote a document hundreds of pages long telling us that in order to be inclusive, we had to exclude all references to Christmas, Jesus, Mary and all Christian names were to be removed from all official communication.

(Meloni 2022a)

4. Transcendent Religiosity, Religious Belief, and Oppositional Expression

The references to religion presented thus far show a resemblance to the category of “culturalized” religion (Astor and Maryl 2020; Joppke 2018), devoid of religious belief and transcendent content. This kind of religious expression in politics does not reflect rhetoric concerning how the political sphere should relate to forms of transcendent religiosity, where leaders are perceived as an instrument for the proclamation of God’s will (Weber [1922] 1963). Religious rhetoric connected to transcendent religiosity can go as far as leaders purporting to be acting in the name of a divine injunction6 or, in other cases, at least facilitate an ethical attachment to obligations that accord with a cosmic order (Weber [1922] 1963). This kind of characterization allows politicians to put forth a self-presentation that is aligned with the word of God and scripture. Doing so adds greater ethical and spiritual weight to disagreements that their political opponents may have with them, as what would be only policy disagreements turn into serious transgressions against God.

Politicians use religion in their rhetoric to facilitate a sense of unity and social cohesion (i.e., the principal function of civil religion (Bellah 1967)), as well as to challenge extant political circumstances by holding society accountable to the higher principles of religious teachings and God’s will (Gorski 2019; Williams and Alexander 1994). In secular contexts, the rhetorician usually employs the function of social cohesion and/or order without necessarily appealing to doctrinal or transcendent authority, whereas in religious contexts, there are many examples that rely on the latter facet of religion. Examples of this latter case include President of Turkey Recep Tayyip Erdoğan, who has relied on civilizationist frames while pursuing projects that make religious education mandatory (Yilmaz 2018) and asserting that his political decisions are in accordance with God’s will. In Brazil, Jair Bolsonaro displays a prophetic form of religiosity, presenting himself as a populist savior who has maintained a special relationship with God (Mezzanotti and Løland 2024). References to doctrinal and transcendent authority can also be found in populist language put forth by the National Movement to Safeguard the MUI Fatwa in Indonesia (Hadiz 2018; Yahya and Susilo 2024). It appears that transcendent religiosity may be more likely exhibited in religious contexts in comparison to the type of religious rhetoric put forth in secular contexts, though this is not said to suggest that this pattern can be treated as a constant.

Given their different religious landscapes, a comparison between Germany and Italy can offer promising insight into how these contextual factors may connect to transcendent forms of religiosity embedded in populist frames. In the highly secular context of eastern Germany (where AfD support is most heavily concentrated), the nature of religious rhetoric constructed by the AfD is strictly temporal and cultural, with little to no mention of God or Christian teachings. During an interview, AfD party leader Alice Weidel was asked if she believes in God to which she replied, “I would like to believe, but I think I need some more time” (Pfeifer 2025). Weidel is not particularly religious and does not claim to believe in or feel a relationship with God. Without this transcendent quality, AfD supply-side actors still attach their ideological claims to the fundamental value of fostering Germany’s heritage of Judeo-Christian values in a purely civilizationist sense. Even when the transcendent and doctrinal components of religion are invoked, such references are subsumed under the deleterious effects of Islamic doctrine and belief, rather than focusing on the value of Christian teachings and adhering to God’s will:

Imams who want to preach in Germany need to obtain the government’s authorisation. Without exception, they have to pledge themselves to our constitutional order and must preach in German, with the exception of quotes from the Qur’an. Imams who stand out for anti-constitutional agitation are to be prohibited from preaching and will be deported if legal conditions allow it. Theological chairs for Islam studies at German universities are to be abolished and the positions transferred to the faculty of non-denominational religious studies. The AfD rejects the minaret as a symbol of Islamic supremacy, as well as the muezzin call that proclaims that no god exists beside the Islamic Allah. Minaret and muezzin calls contradict a tolerant coexistence of religions, which the Christian churches of modernity do practice.

(AfD 2017, pp. 48–49)

When communicating to the highly secular AfD constituency, party leaders use frames pertaining to religion, though limit said frames to the culturalized form of Christianity and the potential dangers posed by the influence of Islam.

The more religious context of Italy presents a slightly more complicated case. Although the FdI more frequently puts forth references to transcendent and doctrinal Christianity than does the AfD, said invocations tend to be superficial in nature and are, more often than not, attached to the dangers of an encroaching other. Although Italy is one of the more religious contexts in Europe, it is still the case that it is showing moderate secularization in recent years and presents a form of low-intensity religiosity, as previously explained. Within such a context, FdI party leaders rely on transcendent and doctrinal frames more often than the AfD, but in accordance with the low-intensity Catholicism that comprise the overarching context, these rhetorical frames are rather surface-level, predominantly symbolic, and do not reflect a meaningfully deep form of religious belief. At her 2020 speech at the National Conservatism Conference, Meloni refers to religious values as “the noblest purpose of all political action. These values and principles are found in the three concepts of today’s meeting: God, Freedom, and Nation, or, in the Italian formula to which I am very attached, God, Homeland, and Family” (Meloni 2020). The importance of upholding religious values is here strongly emphasized, though the reference here is too vague to demonstrate a deeply felt religiosity, as the lack of any kind of specificity in this claim does not reveal if there are truly any specific religious values or teachings that the FdI wishes to protect. It is certainly the case that transcendent religiosity is contained in the FdI slogan, but the party’s reference to God is little more than a sound bite, as party leaders do not often elaborate upon this otherworldly connection, nor do they depend upon claims of aligning with the intentions of God’s plan.

The FdI proposed a draft law to oppose the banning of nativity scenes and crucifixes from public classrooms. The proposal also opposed schools’ rebranding of Christmas as a secular winter festival. In regard to the rationale behind this proposal, FdI senator Lavinia Mennuni said, “For some years now we have witnessed unacceptable and embarrassing decisions by some schools that ban nativity scenes or modify the deep essence of Christmas by transforming it into improbable winter festivities so as not to offend believers of other religions” (Tondo 2023). However, this protection of Christianity in schools has less to do with students receiving specific religious teachings, and more to do with how the cultural components of Catholicism tie to Italy’s national history, as the bill proposes (Tondo 2023). Relatedly, the FdI used similar rationales when preparing a proposal that aimed to prohibit Muslim prayers outside of mosques.

The way in which the FdI expresses the value they place on Christian faith is often closely tied to their concerns of various cultural opponents. Notably, Muslim immigrants are not the only opponents of Christian civilization. The FdI is also strongly opposed to the potential ways in which gender ideology and the LGBT+ community may tarnish Italy’s spiritual foundation. For example, Meloni condemned what she considered to be an obscene photograph during a Gay Pride event. The photograph showed a topless mannequin dressed as the Virgin Mary, wearing make-up and lingerie. Meloni also objected to an LGBT+ group’s depiction of the Virgin Mary as a transgender individual, claiming that such a portrayal is meant to mock believers (Cilento 2023). The FdI consistently opposes the LGBT+ community and gender ideology, often claiming that these influences have harmful effects on Italy’s Christian foundation. Even when expressing anti-immigrant positions, the FdI does not strategically refer to the importance in protecting LGBT+ rights as a way of justifying their opposition to Muslim immigration, as other far-right parties sometimes do (Brubaker 2017a). Instead, the FdI maintains an antagonistic position toward Muslim immigration, without using socially liberal stances to bolster the rationale of this opposition. Speaking at an event organized by Vox (a right-wing populist party in Spain), Meloni opposes both the LGBT+ community and Muslim immigration, while putting forth a civilizationist frame that emphasizes the need to protect Christianity and European civilization:

Yes to the natural family! No to the LGBT lobbies! Yes to sexual identity! No to gender ideology! Yes to the culture of life! No to the abyss of death! Yes to the universality of the cross! No to Islamist violence! Yes to secure borders! No to massive immigration! Yes to the work of our citizens! No to big international finance! Yes to the sovereignties of the peoples! No to the bureaucrats of Brussels! And yes to our civilization! And no to those who want to destroy it! … Long live Spain! Long live Italy! Long live the Europe of patriots.

(Meloni 2022b)

Interestingly, this position contrasts an aspect of identitarian Christianism, namely its “philosemitic stance, and an ostensibly liberal defence of gender equality, gay rights, and freedom of speech” (Brubaker 2017a, p. 1191). Although inconsistent in this regard, it is worth noting that the AfD is distinct from the FdI in that they sometimes justify their anti-Muslim stances on the grounds of socially liberal values (e.g., gender equality, gay acceptance, etc. (see Doerr 2021)), though these liberal values are typically abandoned when isolated from the topic of Muslim immigration.

The preservation of religious freedom; the importance of believers’ religious expression, and religious identity all feature prominently in FdI rhetoric. On the importance of defending these facets of religion, Meloni said the following in 2023:

Religious freedom is not a second-class right, it is not a freedom that comes after others or that can even be forgotten for the benefit of self-styled new freedoms or rights. Similarly, we cannot forget another phenomenon that affects the most developed societies. Pope Francis has warned us of the danger of polite persecution disguised as culture, modernity and progress, which, in the name of a misunderstood concept of inclusion limits the possibility of believers to express their convictions in the sphere of social life … it is profoundly wrong to think that in order to welcome the other one must deny one’s identity including religious identity.

(Meloni 2023)

The close connection to Christianity that the FdI claims to have does not revolve so much around the value of faith, but instead intertwines with the threats of cultural forces that are considered to be inherently inimical to fostering Christian belief and identity. Statements regarding religious belief and doctrine are expressed with brevity and often in conjunction with (as well as overshadowed by) the more detailed accounts concerning the influences of cultural opponents.

Rhetoric put forth by the FdI corresponds to the type of religiousness that punctuates the context in which it is engulfed (i.e., the rather passive Christianity which is pervasive in Italy). Although the FdI frequently discusses the importance of Christian belief, said references are typically reduced to superficial slogans such as “God, homeland, family,” rather than detailed explanations of how deeply felt religious beliefs would valuably connect to political positions. The principally symbolic character of this religious expression resonates with the pervading form of religiosity in Italy. Cosmetic Christianity is far more apparent, however, with the case of the AfD. AfD rhetoric reflects their highly secular constituency, as supply-side actors do not even exhibit transcendent religiosity or religious belief in the form of slogans. AfD references to religion are strictly civilizational and consistently pertain to the crisis of an advancing process of Islamization. Both parties exhibit this oppositional attitude in the form of civilizational Christianity, though unlike the FdI, the AfD does not even reach the level of superficial transcendence and/or belief.

5. Brightening the Boundaries and Dramatizing Social Life

5.1. Brightening the Boundaries

RWPs’ use of Christianity has been understood by some observers as a secular form of Christian identity primarily concerned with ethno-nationalism, leading scholars to claim that these parties are not genuinely Christian, for they “are Christian largely to the extent that they reject Islam” (Roy 2016, p. 186). This perspective has characterized RWP rhetoric as an overall secular means by which populist parties are merely “hijacking” religion without display of any sincere piousness (Mazouki et al. 2016).7 This lack of the privatized aspects of religiosity are certainly important and worthy of attention, though perspectives that automatically disqualify these parties from the category of religion approach the topic with a narrow understanding of religion in mind; one which excludes religion’s public and political aspects primarily because they surface in plebiscitary rhetoric. The opposition to the growing presence of Islam may spur strong feelings of possessing a Christian identity, even if the attachment to this identity does not involve religious belief. Even in secularizing contexts where certain aspects of religion such as belief and practice are in decline, politicians and parties perform in a manner that corresponds to a persisting attachment to group identities along religious lines. This secularized Christianity inverts the notion known as “believing without belonging,” which refers to “spiritual, but not religious” individuals who may believe in God, but do not commit themselves to a church. This inversion leads to a matter of “belonging without believing,” which refers to individuals who display an attachment to Christian symbols, culture, and heritage, though this identification does not necessarily involve belief or genuine piousness. Religion understood in this way more easily enters and complements the populist frame of “us versus them,” as Christianity is used as one of several symbolic identity markers to provide meaningful content to part of the notion of “us,” an identity which is perceived as being the negation of the Muslim “them.” The process of identity formation is described by Glaeser (2000, p. 399) as a “ping-pong of identifications between self and other,” as the particularities of identity construction come together in light of the symbolic character of the threatening other (Abascal 2020; Albanese 2023; Albanese and Kurpiel 2025; Tajfel 1982; Wimmer 2008). This identity of negation is thus inherently relational in form. The process of realizing Christian identification is facilitated and intensified by the concern with the culturally incompatible influences of Islam. Thus, even those who do not exhibit religious piousness rely upon a secularized Christian identity to strengthen the conception of “us” and emphasize the boundaries that exclude “them” from civilizational belonging.

Christianity maintains a salient role in secular contexts because of its ability to facilitate the construction of cultural identity markers (Cremer 2023a), which consequently leads to symbolic boundaries of belonging. Perhaps with the intentions of avoiding a self-portrayal of explicit xenophobia, the AfD claim to be tolerant of other cultures. However, this self-description of being tolerant is not expressed to stand on its own, for such claims are virtually always coupled with a large qualification:

We maintain an open mind towards other nations and cultures, but [italics added] wish to be and remain German at heart. Therefore, we shall continuously strive to uphold human dignity, support families with children, retain our western Christian culture, and maintain our language and traditions in a peaceful, democratic, and sovereign nation state for the German people.

(AfD 2017, p. 5)

Here Christianity is used as an identity marker not out of a confessional motivation, but rather because it serves cultural utility in creating a demarcation between the foundation of Germany and influences that do not share the identities that comprise this foundation. In addition to being tolerant of others, the AfD claims to support freedom of religious expression. Yet this liberal commitment appears to be of marginal importance to the party, as its articulation is only used as a setup to a larger and more detailed point. Indeed, this briefly stated commitment to freedom and tolerance is again attached to a strong qualification:

The AfD pledges its unconditional support to the freedom of faith, worship and conscience. However [italics added], the freedom of worship has to take place within the limits of public laws, human rights and our value system. The AfD firmly opposes Islamic practice which is directed against our liberal-democratic constitutional order, our laws, and the Judeo-Christian and humanist foundations of our culture. The legal provisions of the shari’a are incompatible with our legal and value systems.

(AfD 2017, p. 47)

The AfD emphasizes symbolic boundaries by presenting Islam as being inherently discordant with the laws and value systems of Germany. The party uses religion to brighten these boundaries by characterizing Islam as being necessarily in tension with the very foundations of German culture. Although there is a claimed commitment to freedom of faith and open-mindedness to those from other religions, the AfD implies a cultural hierarchy by stressing the importance of preserving the dominant position of German and Christian identity (AfD 2017, p. 46).

Similar patterns can be found in FdI rhetoric, with ingroup belonging largely depending upon the strong cultural concern with Islam: “The weakness of the cultural identity of European nations makes them more subject to the aggression of radical and militant Islam” (FdI 2017). Ingroup ties are strengthened when there is a perception that the salient collective characteristic unifying the group is under attack. In a viral video that was well-received by the political right in many countries, Meloni reinforces this kind of threatened perception:

Because everything that defines us is now an enemy for those who would like us to no longer have an identity and to simply be perfect consumer slaves. And so, they attack national identity, they attack religious identity, they attack gender identity, they attack family identity. I can’t define myself as Italian, Christian, woman, mother. No. I must be Citizen X, Gender X, Parent 1, Parent 2. I must be a number.

(Bump 2022)

Connecting civilizational character to a particular religious identification helps present those who identify with another religion as being wholly incompatible with the societal fabric. Meloni, for example, repeatedly exhibits an aversion to Muslim immigration, instead suggesting that immigrants should come from areas that better align with Italy’s Christian identity: “Every nation has the right to choose an immigration that is more compatible with its own culture. In Venezuela, there are millions of people starving—they are Christian—often of Italian origin. So, if we need immigrants, let’s take them from Venezuela” (Stille 2024). The FdI maintains this position concerning cultural and religious congruence in the following example as well: “Immigration is not a right, and citizenship is even less so … For us, only those who love Italy, speak Italian, know and respect our laws, our culture, our historical and religious traditions can become citizens” (FdI 2017). While speaking about Pope John Paul II in her speech at the National Conservatism Conference, Meloni frames the feeling of belonging as revolving around a shared heritage and historical memory. She presents the civilizational identity of Europe as being inextricable to Christianity and, with this characterization of necessary association, excludes non-Christians from civilizational belonging:

John Paul II, the “Patriot Pope,” knew perfectly well that nations, and the fact of belonging to a people sharing the same historical memory, were the bedrock of the freedom of every man. He never tired of repeating that “there is no Europe without Christianity,” a teaching which is more topical than ever today, when the Christian identity of Europe is under attack by a distorted secularism that even attacks the symbols of the Christian tradition, while throwing open the gates to the most intransigent form of Islam that wants to apply Sharia law in our European homelands, and which lies at the heart of the Islamic terrorism that has caused bloodshed in Europe and the United States. John Paul II’s patriotism also enabled him to view today’s historical events in the light of a Christian realism shorn of all rhetoric, as in the case of immigration … Christian, patriot, and also a critic of mass immigration. When you think about it, today John Paul II would be on the EU’s blacklist as a dangerous subversive.

(Meloni 2020)

5.2. Dramatizing Social Life

Symbolic boundary making has been the subject of past analyses (e.g., Bail 2008; Wimmer 2008), though receiving less attention are the emotive, existential, and story-like elements embedded in the processes by which these boundaries are formed. Understanding the patterns of affective investment that intertwine with populism’s narrative structure uncovers the functions of dramatic elements, as well as how these elements are oriented toward facilitating the formation of party followers’ sense of meaning and purpose. Politicians and parties use devices of symbolic exclusion within the frames they put forth to strengthen ingroup ties and achieve resonance at the affective level with their intended base. Populist actors rely on emotional appeals to the audience, often by presenting themselves as saviors within a situation of crisis (Laclau 1977; Moffitt 2015). The RWP leader’s electoral success is characterized as the means by which the common people can be saved; a sense of hope can be restored, and the political power that establishment actors have denied the people can be rightfully reclaimed. The structure of myths and fantasy are often found in a dualistic form of good versus evil—one which is conducive to the structure of the populist narrative of us versus them. The populist story often puts forth a mythical narrative of “the people” as having once maintained a perfect unity, though suggests that this fullness and greatness has since been lost (Wojczewski 2022). Political actors who recognize the legitimacy of this folkloristic telling of a civilization are perceived as the only possible means by which the unity and happiness of this idealized history can be restored.

Though it would be inaccurate to refer to populism as a religion, it is still the case that populist politics can offer some of the same functions of religion; acting as a quasi-religious device by casting order upon chaos, as well as by imbuing life with meaning and purpose. The sacralization of populism unfolds when the power of the common people is thought to represent the highest societal ideal, which the leader intends to protect from the various crises imposed by elites and civilizational enemies (DeHanas and Shterin 2018; Innerarity and Giansante 2025). Populists use religious elements in this process of sacralization to strengthen group ties, sanctify the people, and dissolve the divide between political actor and audience. In doing so, the populist actor not only achieves an image of authenticity through his or her genuine embodiment of the people, but perhaps more importantly, gives meaning to a disenchanted world by presenting the salvific opportunity to transcend the transgressions and existential discontent that derive from both political and individual routine (Weber [1921] 1978).8

Populist frames mirror the familiar structure of good versus evil that one finds in many stories, presenting a more dramatic and intensified realm than is experienced within the confines of routine. Much in the same way that stories conveyed in artistic products can fulfill the individual’s yearning for transcendence of everyday life (Eagleton 2011; Lefebvre 1991), these dynamics that revolve around the separation from the stultifying limits of the status quo and daily routine can be found in the intersection between religion and populist politics. In presenting myths of an imaginary past in which a civilization successfully preserved unity, moral purity, and existential fulfillment for all, populists give rise to feelings of hope and strategically interact with followers’ emotions (Wojczewski 2022). Political actors often use narratives that mythologize ethno-religious exclusion by idealizing the society’s folkloristic history (Gorski 2019). Central to the dramatic narrative that populists put forth is the construction of the other, who is an antagonist in the political scene, acting with the intention of obstructing the given society from recovering its past greatness. The presentation of otherness gives rise to negative emotions, from sadness to politically motivated anger (Weber [1917] 1952). When conflicts are perceived as natural, inevitable, and a part of civilizational folklore, ethnic resentment for the other is more likely to be perceived as justifiable. Gingrich (2013, p. 61) refers to this kind of narrative structure as “frontier orientalism”:

Frontier orientalism always presents itself as an explanatory and interpretive model for current incidents that are initially staged with the aid of analogies to mythological versions of events in one’s own history. Thus the present can be interpreted as ‘destiny’, in that one is mobilized for a ‘mission’ of one’s own. In this model of interpretation and mise-en-scene, a dangerous threat always plays a key role: it can be a siege, or, put more plainly, any kind of immediate threat along a very nearby border.

The populist story puts forward a romanticized scenario for the civilization’s future, one in which the challenged stability and identity of the people can be secured regardless of enemies’ intentions. Populist stories swing back and forth between an idealized conception of the society’s future and the most extreme crisis imaginable, as doing so facilitates suspense and emotional intensity (usually in the form of oscillating between hope and fear), which in turn, leads to emotional investment among followers (Wojczewski 2022). The utopian future harkens back to a unified civilizational identity which could still be maintained through the uniquely authentic and pure populist party’s success.

The AfD uses dramatic language in their characterization of German politics and the process that has led to the overall composition of the political sphere. When speaking of antagonists who wish to take power away from the common people, for example, the AfD presents a mysterious and arguably conspiratorial narrative of how political developments truly unfold:

Behind the scenes a small and powerful elite within the political parties is secretly in charge, and is responsible for the misguided development of past decades. It is this political class of career politicians whose foremost interest is to retain their own power base, status, and material well-being. It is a political cartel which operates the levers of government power, insofar as these have not been transferred to the EU.

(AfD 2017, p. 7)

The intersection between populism’s vertical and horizontal forms of opposition contributes to the suspense and fear of the impending disaster scenario that comprise the AfD-constructed plot of German politics. This extremity is expressed in patently dramatic language when discussing the looming threat of social turmoil and the consequent extinction of the European way of life:

The traditional policy of liberally granting asylum in spite of an acknowledgement of massive misuse of the system, has resulted in a rapid and irresistible settlement of Europe, in particular of Germany, by people from diverse cultures and geographical regions … We also want to prevent the looming risk of social and religious turmoil and the creeping extinction of European cultures.

(AfD 2017, p. 58)

Perhaps driven by the belief that these dramatic narratives increase the likelihood of support from fearful voters, the AfD often puts forth doomsday descriptions of the future which heavily rely on emotion-evoking language: “Islam does not belong to Germany. Its expansion and the ever-increasing number of Muslims in the country are viewed by the AfD as a danger to our state, our society, and our values” (AfD 2017, p. 48). Not unlike the aforementioned secret plotting of elites, the AfD speculate about the likelihood of how the Muslim youth could be clandestinely receiving education that would turn them into enemies of Germany’s constitutional order: “As long as Islam has not been fundamentally reformed, we demand that Islamic qur’an schools should be closed with immediate effect, as it is likely that uncontrolled radical and unconstitutional indoctrination takes place there” (AfD 2017, p. 54). The invasion frame of Islamization instills the belief that Germany will cease to exist, and that the antagonistic other must be overcome if a return to the past fullness and oneness of German society is to be achieved. This mythological narrative is conveyed well by AfD leader in Thuringia Björn Höcke: “I think we founded a great tradition that is forward-looking … We … as a Volk need a spiritual return to our great history, our great culture, to shape the future and to win back the future” (Göpffarth 2020, p. 263). The AfD self-cast themselves as heroes within their story of German politics, characterizing AfD support as the only means by which the country’s unity can be restored. As one AfD billboard reads, “Vote for the AfD now so that Germany will not be destroyed!” (Adams 2016).

The FdI plot structure is expressed in conspiratorial terms by identifying an elite that intend to ethnically replace the native population: “We are not afraid to openly denounce the ongoing process of Islamization of the European continent. A phenomenon largely desired, planned and supported by Muslim nations such as Saudi Arabia, Qatar, Turkey and backed by the globalist ideology that would deny national belonging and the very existence of European peoples” (FdI 2017). FdI rhetoric repeatedly invokes this notion that the cultural richness of Italian and Christian identity is under attack and at risk of disappearing. Giorgia Meloni passionately told a crowd of supporters in Rome that “I am Giorgia, I am a woman, I am a mother, I am Italian, I am Christian. No one will take that away from me!” (Dodman 2022). The FdI’s telling of Italian politics frequently involves the image of cultural enemies who wish to destroy European civilization (Meloni 2022b). The FdI present themselves as a heroic party willing to confront and stand up to these enemies who are creating havoc and bloodshed throughout Europe: “We are not even afraid to say that the fundamentalist Salafi theories openly spread in our country by fundamentalist Islamic states are the breeding ground for the terrorism that bloodies our cities” (FdI 2017). The party puts forth a mythological narrative by emphasizing their goal of recovering the oneness and purity Italy used to possess, as their objective is to “regenerate the national and European spirit” which can be achieved “through the rediscovery of identity, the recovery of tradition, the renewed sense of belonging to the national community, it is a question—more than returning to the origin—of proceeding to a true regeneration of the value of the homeland” (FdI 2017). Within this drama-filled situation, the FdI present themselves as being uniquely capable and, indeed, “the only antidote” to the effects of “a pulverized society, in which community ties and bonds of belonging are scientifically broken to build a mass of citizen-consumers without history, without roots, without identity, without homeland, without community, without religion …” (FdI 2017). It is through the uniquely capable and moral force of the FdI that the cultural ideal represented by the mythologized version of European and religious identity can be realized once again.

6. Conclusions

To shed light on the patterns of RWP actors’ use of Christian symbols and religious-laced rhetoric in recent years, this article has uncovered the dynamic similarities and dissimilarities between the two religiously different contexts of Germany and Italy. Although recent strides have been made to better understand the religio-civilizationist components of populism, the subject remains curiously understudied. Through analysis of the overarching themes found in speeches, interviews, and manifesto content put forth by the AfD and FdI, this article has contributed toward a richer understanding of the social logic by which populists rely on religious frames in light of the respective contextual factors that mediate the nature of this religious expression.

First, I show how the vertical and horizontal tensions within the populist framework combine with notions of civilizational identity, with a particular emphasis on the salient role that religious classification plays in this integration. In uncovering the combination of these symbolic and ideational factors, I demonstrate how the affinity these parties have for Christian culture tends to surface along with using Islam as a negative reference point. This is a more consistent pattern in the secular context of Germany than it is in the more religious context of Italy. While the AfD virtually never expresses a positive feeling toward Christianity that does not come along with a negative attitude toward Islam, there were some cases in which the FdI demonstrated this standalone positive reference to Christianity. It is still the case, however, that both parties’ references to the importance of preserving Christian civilization are often expressed in the same breath as their use of Muslim invasion frames.

Next, I analyze how each party treats the transcendent and pious qualities of religious commitment. In the secular context of Germany, AfD leader Weidel has stated that she is not certain that she believes in God. Moreover, any mention of doctrine is entirely subsumed under a worry about the harmful influence of Islamic teachings, rather than any mention of the value and importance of Christian teachings. Christian belief and the otherworldly aspects of religion are virtually non-existent in AfD rhetoric. In the more religious context of Italy, where the majority of the population believes in God and identifies as Catholic, the FdI’s rhetoric presents a more complicated case. The FdI’s references to Christianity invoke God and religious teachings, though these references are rather cosmetic, vague, and superficial in comparison to their more in-depth accounts concerning the civilizational aspects of Christianity. This mostly symbolic form of transcendent religiosity is not indicative of a deeply felt belief system and reflects the somewhat passive form of Catholicism that characterizes religion in Italy. The FdI communicates to their more religious voters through these references to God and Christian teachings (though expressed in superficial terms), whereas the AfD does not even invoke transcendent religiosity in a perfunctory manner.

Lastly, I show the way in which religion is used to help brighten symbolic boundaries, and uncover patterns related to the largely ignored dramatic and emotional elements embedded in the formation of these boundaries. Identity construction is an inherently relational process, and populist actors in both parties use the juxtaposition of religious identities to accentuate the “us versus them” narrative that represents the core of populism. Christianity is presented as being inextricable to the foundation of European civilization in order to emphasize the insurmountable incompatibility with Islam. Importantly, this characterization involves the mythologizing of the civilization’s past as being necessarily linked to Christianity, thereby naturalizing this religious identification and implying that their civilization will cease to exist if its purity is corrupted by Muslim outsiders. These myths refer to a widespread unity, happiness, and cultural perfection that existed in the past, and help associate the party’s objectives with the hope that such civilizational oneness can be restored. Such sensational rhetoric tactfully gives rise to populist emotionality by swinging back and forth between feelings of hope (i.e., hope for the restoration of the image created by mythological narratives) and fear (i.e., fear concerning the total destruction of European civilization). As elites and traditional parties are perceived as assisting in the process of this takeover or “ethnic replacement,” populists are able to present themselves as the only viable option in a field of corrupt political actors. RWPs’ heroic self-presentation encourages affective investment by promising to overcome the forces of evil that punctuate the current political situation, and to restore the mythologized greatness of Christian civilization in the face of crisis. Frames of Christianity versus Islam are conducive to populism’s dualistic outlook of good versus evil, us versus them, etc. Though more importantly, such emotional frames help dramatize and give a sense of purpose to followers by assigning the common people the most meaningful and significant role within the populist’s story-like account of politics.

This article does not provide an all-encompassing account of how civilizational identity operates in populist politics. Complications relating to this framework do not only revolve around the rhetorical reflection of the given religious landscape, as there are a good number of other potentially catalytic factors worthy of consideration. For example, political actors may adopt rhetoric that corresponds to certain societal norms of their target audience. Moreover, the instrumentalization of religion may not necessarily be oriented toward the mobilization of religious voters, but rather to support feelings of anti-Muslim sentiment that links with a sense of cultural identity more so than with faithful conviction (Cremer 2023a; see also Marcinkiewicz and Dassonneville 2022). This strategic orientation can meaningfully connect to the increasingly progressive values of the mainstream center-right, which may have allowed for RWP actors to present themselves as the more committed defenders of Christian civilization (Bale and Kaltwasser 2021). Thus, rhetorical competition between populist and non-populist parties is another direction that could possibly complicate the dynamics by which right-wing populist parties rely upon religion. It should also be mentioned that the lack of relationship between religion and RWP support throughout Europe (Marcinkiewicz and Dassonneville 2022) should not be treated as a constant across contexts, and will vary along with distinct particularities that mediate the relationship (e.g., Norris and Inglehart 2019).

The form of RWPs’ religious expression corresponds to the kind of religiousness that characterizes the conditions under which the rhetorical communication occurs. The comparison between the AfD and FdI indicates that the overall shape of religious frames reflects contextual factors pertaining to each society’s religious landscape. Understanding this quality of RWPs’ use of religious rhetoric assists in making sense of the underlying logic behind this element of populism’s social character, RWP strategies of interpretive resonance, and the reasons behind the overall nature of religiosity that manifests itself in rhetorical expression. However, there is still a great deal of work to be done concerning the various intersections between religion and populism, with many gaps remaining in the extant literature (e.g., there is very little research on populists’ use of religion in non-Western contexts; the reasons behind left-wing populists apparent lack of reliance on religious-laced rhetoric have not been adequately considered, etc.). Perhaps the most promising direction for future research to take would be to analyze demand-side interpretations of supply-side actors’ employment of Christian language and symbols. The relatively nascent literature on populism and religion has been primarily concerned with the supply side of populist politics, as is the case with the current article. These contributions are certainly an essential part of the literature, though understanding the ways in which followers interpret politicians’ use of religion would uncover the sociological intricacies within the politician-voter relation, as well as lead to a better understanding as to how successful RWP actors’ use of Christian language has been in achieving proximity to their target base. Although bottom-up analyses would not offer insight into the intricacies of rhetorical patterns and strategies, this perspective would provide scholars with insight into how followers organize meaning around political performance. Rhetorical style does not inhere in the leader alone, but rather in the relation between leader and follower (Weber [1919] 1946), where the former is constantly making reference to and building a relationship with the latter. Placing top-down and bottom-up analyses in conversation with one another would help unearth the relational dynamics that foster symbolic meanings pertaining to the role of religion in populist politics.