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As I sifted through the news pouring in from Bangladesh, the ominous backdrop of American discontent and the simmering undertones of India’s religious nationalism persisted in my thoughts. Headlines of unrest, protests, and divisive rhetoric evoked a specter of populism that felt disturbingly familiar. Amid this unease, I stumbled upon the German movie The Wave by Dennis Gansel, a psychological drama about a classroom experiment in authoritarianism. What began as a casual indulgence turned into a moment of clarity, as though the universe had handed me a microscope to decipher the chaos around me across borders and political spectrums.
The narrative of The Wave is deceptively simple: Rainer Wenger, a teacher conducting an experiment to illustrate autocracy, unwittingly creates a movement that spirals out of control. What begins as a lesson in team-building, power, and group thinking morphs into something sinister, as ordinary students succumb to the seductive allure of belonging, unity, and control. Watching this unfold, I couldn’t help but see reflections of populism in our times—from “Make America Great Again” in the United States to Hindutva in India and the rise of religious fundamentalism in Bangladesh. These movements thrive on similar mechanisms: alienation, the allure of unity, a search for purpose amid chaos, and the vacuum left by weak or disconnected leadership.
The question isn’t just why populist movements flourish but why so many feel compelled to join them. The students in The Wave are not ideologues but ordinary humans—disillusioned, restless, and desperate for meaning. Their drive toward authoritarianism stems not from malice but from a longing to feel seen, to belong, to matter. This is strikingly similar to the millions swept up by populist movements today. In Trump’s America, it was working-class citizens, abandoned by globalization and ignored by elite policies, who rallied behind the promise of comfort, however illusory. In Bangladesh, religious fundamentalism offers refuge to those disenchanted by secularism that feels hypocritical and disconnected. Groups like Hefazat-e-Islam thrive not only because they provide a religious framework but also because they offer schools, community, and a sense of moral order. In India, Hindutva taps into historical grievances and offers a unifying but exclusionary cultural pride, particularly in the face of perceived failures of leftist ideologies.
These movements succeed because they provide what liberal democracy increasingly fails to deliver: simplicity in an era of complexity, identity amid fragmentation, and a sense of value in systems that often feel indifferent. For decades, liberal and secular elites have prioritized rhetoric over substance, symbolic gestures over structural reform. In India, pseudo-secular politics alienated majorities while failing to address systemic inequalities. In Bangladesh, inconsistent secularism and alliances with religious conservatives have eroded public trust. In America, neoliberal policies gutted the working class while espousing abstract ideals of progress. Populism thrives on these failures, exploiting the disconnection between elite leadership and the realities of ordinary people.
What struck me most about The Wave was how easily the lines blurred between education and indoctrination, unity and oppression. Wenger’s experiment begins with ideals of collaboration but descends into conformity and blind obedience. This fluidity mirrors our political realities today, where populist leaders thrive on emotion rather than reason and division rather than dialogue. The chants of a unified crowd may seem empowering, but they often mask a darker reality of exclusion and oppression. Movements like The Wave remind us of how fragile democracy and decency can be when confronted by such fervor.
Hannah Arendt’s The Origins of Totalitarianism is prescient in explaining such conditions. Arendt argues that authoritarianism grows not because people are inherently evil but because they are alienated. It takes root in societies where people feel disconnected and forgotten. Democracy’s survival, she believed, depends on critical thinking, courageous action, and the preservation of truth. But perhaps it also depends on empathy—on caring for those who feel excluded or marginalized. If we fail to address the alienation that fuels populism, we risk repeating history. Populism will not just challenge liberalism; it may bury it.
The tragedy of The Wave lies in its inevitability, and it challenges us to ask difficult questions. How can secularism survive if it feels elitist and dismissive of cultural identity? How can democracy endure if its institutions appear indifferent to inequality and suffering? These are existential questions, and failing to address them leaves a vacuum that populism eagerly fills.
The question, then, is not whether we can stop the next wave of populism but whether we can rise above it. We must rebuild societies that are inclusive, compassionate, and capable of addressing the profound challenges of our time. The Wave reminds us that the seduction of authoritarianism is always present, but so too is the possibility of resisting it—if and only if we are sincere and are willing to confront the root causes of alienation and inequality.
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