In the history of political leadership, far-right politicians have consistently demonstrated a pattern of manufacturing enemies to consolidate power, only to claim accolades for addressing crises they themselves instigated. This strategy, deeply rooted in authoritarian tendencies, exploits societal fears, divisions and insecurities to deflect attention from internal failures, economic challenges or personal scandals. By framing ethnic groups, ideological opponents or external entities as existential threats, these leaders rally support, justify repressive measures and position themselves as indispensable saviours. This essay explores this phenomenon through historical and contemporary case studies: Adolf Hitler’s Nazi regime, Joseph McCarthy’s anti-communist purges in the United States, the Rwandan genocide, Vladimir Putin’s border aggressions, Benjamin Netanyahu’s actions in Gaza and Donald Trump’s creation of domestic and international adversaries. The analysis argues that this tactic is not merely opportunistic, but a core feature of far-right ideology, which thrives on division and the illusion of strongman salvation, often leading to catastrophic consequences.
The psychology of authoritarianism underpins this behaviour. Far-right leaders often rise during periods of instability, economic downturns, social unrest or national humiliation, promising order and restored glory. Once in power, they identify or fabricate scapegoats to maintain momentum, as internal reforms often prove inadequate or unpopular. This creates a self-reinforcing cycle: the “enemy” justifies expanded powers, which amplify the threat, allowing the leader to pose as the protector. This pattern transcends time and geography, resulting in violence, democratic erosion and profound human suffering. By examining these cases, we uncover a deliberate strategy that far-right leaders employ to create enemies, exacerbate crises and claim credit for resolving them, perpetuating their authority at great societal cost.
Adolf Hitler and the Invention of Internal Enemies
Adolf Hitler’s ascent to power in 1933 is a quintessential example of how far-right leaders manufacture enemies to entrench control. Post-World War I Germany faced economic devastation, hyperinflation, and the humiliations of the Treaty of Versailles, which imposed harsh reparations and territorial losses. Hitler, leading the National Socialist German Workers’ Party (Nazi Party), exploited these conditions by scapegoating Jews, communists and other minorities as the source of Germany’s woes. While anti-Semitism and political tensions existed before his rise, Hitler did not inherit these enmities fully formed; he amplified and institutionalised them through relentless propaganda and state machinery, creating a narrative of existential threat.
Upon becoming Chancellor, Hitler swiftly dismantled democratic institutions. The Reichstag Fire in February 1933, suspiciously blamed on communists despite evidence suggesting possible Nazi involvement, provided the pretext for the Reichstag Fire Decree. This suspended civil liberties, enabling mass arrests of political opponents and the suppression of dissent. The subsequent Enabling Act granted Hitler dictatorial powers, effectively ending the Weimar Republic. Jews were progressively demonised as an “internal enemy” through measures like the 1935 Nuremberg Laws, which stripped them of citizenship and banned intermarriage with Germans, and the 1938 Kristallnacht, a state-orchestrated pogrom that destroyed Jewish businesses and synagogues. Hitler portrayed himself as the saviour purging these threats, claiming accolades for “restoring” German purity and strength.
These enemies were largely fabricated or exaggerated. Pre-Nazi Germany had anti-Semitic undercurrents, but Hitler’s regime elevated them into a genocidal ideology. His propaganda painted Jews as a global conspiracy undermining the nation, a fiction that justified the Holocaust, where six million Jews and millions of others – Roma, disabled people, political dissidents – were murdered. By invading Poland in 1939, Hitler externalised the threat, framing the war as a defence against “encirclement” by enemies he provoked through aggressive expansionism. His speeches lauded his foresight in “dealing with” these foes, but the reality was a self-perpetuating cycle of aggression that led to Germany’s destruction by 1945. The Second World War, costing tens of millions of lives, was a direct result of Hitler’s manufactured crises, yet he sought glory as the defender of the Aryan race. This pattern of creating division to claim resolution became a template for far-right authoritarianism.
Joseph McCarthy and the Red Scare in America
In the United States, Senator Joseph McCarthy’s anti-communist crusade during the early 1950s illustrates how far-right figures exploit ideological fears to gain prominence, often at the expense of civil liberties and social cohesion. The post-World War II era saw rising tensions with the Soviet Union, fuelled by the Cold War and fears of communist infiltration. McCarthy transformed these legitimate concerns into a witch hunt, accusing government officials, Hollywood figures, academics, and ordinary citizens of communist sympathies, often without credible evidence.
McCarthy’s infamous 1950 speech in Wheeling, West Virginia, claimed he held a list of 205 communists working in the State Department, igniting the Second Red Scare. This was not a response to an imminent, widespread threat; while espionage cases like that of Alger Hiss existed, McCarthy exaggerated them to create a pervasive “enemy within.” His Senate subcommittee hearings became public spectacles, ruining careers through blacklisting, public shaming, and unsubstantiated accusations. He fostered an atmosphere of paranoia where dissent was equated with disloyalty, targeting liberals, intellectuals and anyone perceived as insufficiently patriotic. McCarthy sought accolades as America’s defender against subversion, even as his tactics divided the nation and suppressed free speech.
The irony of McCarthy’s campaign is that it amplified the very divisions he claimed to combat. Pre-McCarthy America had anti-communist sentiments, but his demagoguery turned them into a national hysteria. The Hollywood Ten, a group of screenwriters and directors jailed for refusing to testify, became symbols of this overreach, as did the loyalty oaths imposed on government employees and educators. By 1954, McCarthy’s accusations extended to the US Army, alleging communist infiltration, a step too far that led to televised hearings exposing his reckless tactics. The Senate censured him, ending his influence, but the damage lingered: thousands lost jobs, reputations were destroyed and trust in institutions eroded. McCarthy’s “cleansing” was a self-created crisis, allowing him to pose as a hero while advancing a far-right agenda of isolationism and suspicion of government elites. His legacy underscores how manufactured enemies can destabilise even a robust democracy.
The Rwandan Genocide: Ethnic Division as Political Tool
The 1994 Rwandan genocide, where Hutu extremists slaughtered approximately 800,000 Tutsi and moderate Hutu in 100 days, demonstrates how far-right ethno-nationalism fabricates enemies from historical divisions to maintain power. Rwanda’s colonial legacy under Belgium exacerbated Hutu-Tutsi tensions by favouring the Tutsi minority as a “superior” ruling class, creating resentment among the Hutu majority. However, post-independence leaders, particularly the Hutu Power movement under President Juvénal Habyarimana, weaponised these divisions for political gain, transforming latent tensions into a genocidal campaign.
The genocide was not an inevitable clash, but a meticulously engineered crisis. Habyarimana’s regime, facing economic decline and a civil war with the Tutsi-led Rwandan Patriotic Front (RPF), portrayed Tutsi as invaders and traitors bent on restoring minority rule. Propaganda through outlets like Radio Télévision Libre des Mille Collines dehumanised Tutsi, labelling them “cockroaches” and inciting violence. The April 6, 1994, plane crash that killed Habyarimana – blamed on Tutsi despite unclear evidence – served as the immediate trigger, but preparations, including machete imports and militia training, had been underway for months. Hutu extremists orchestrated massacres, often using lists to target Tutsi and moderate Hutu, with churches becoming sites of slaughter, despite both groups being predominantly Christian, not Muslim as sometimes mischaracterised.
Hutu leaders claimed glory for “defending” the nation against a fabricated Tutsi threat, but they created the environment of hatred. Colonial divisions provided a foundation, but the regime’s propaganda and policies amplified them to distract from corruption, economic failure and internal power struggles. The genocide ended when the RPF, led by Paul Kagame, took control, but the scars remain: Rwanda’s social fabric was shattered, and the international community faced criticism for its inaction. The Hutu Power movement’s actions illustrate how far-right ethnocentrism turns neighbours into enemies, with leaders seeking accolades for “resolving” crises they inflamed, at the cost of unimaginable human suffering.
Vladimir Putin and Border Dramas
Vladimir Putin’s leadership in Russia since 2000 exemplifies the use of external enemies to bolster domestic authority. Putin has framed NATO expansion as an existential threat, justifying military aggressions in Georgia (2008), Ukraine (2014, 2022), and other neighbouring regions. These “border dramas” are not purely defensive; they serve to rally nationalist sentiment, distract from internal issues like economic stagnation and corruption, and reinforce Putin’s image as Russia’s protector.
In 2008, Russia invaded Georgia, ostensibly to protect ethnic Russians in South Ossetia from “genocide,” a claim echoing fabricated threats. The conflict followed tensions over separatist regions, but Putin’s intervention escalated a localised dispute into an international crisis, allowing him to assert Russia’s regional dominance. Similarly, the 2014 annexation of Crimea and the 2022 full-scale invasion of Ukraine were justified as countering NATO “encroachment” and “de-Nazification” of Ukraine, despite Ukraine posing no aggressive threat. Putin created the crisis by supporting separatists in Ukraine’s Donbas region, then invaded to “solve” it, claiming victories like Crimea’s integration as proof of his strong leadership.
Critics argue Putin’s actions stem from fear of democratic movements, such as Ukraine’s 2014 Maidan uprising, inspiring Russians to challenge his regime. By portraying the West as an enemy, he justifies censorship, military spending, and crackdowns on dissent, seeking accolades for “restoring” Russian greatness. As of August 2025, the ongoing Ukraine war has claimed hundreds of thousands of lives and displaced millions, yet Putin frames it as a triumph over fabricated perils. His strategy of creating external threats sustains his authoritarian rule, but at a staggering human and economic cost, with Russia increasingly isolated internationally.
Benjamin Netanyahu and the Gaza Conflict
Benjamin Netanyahu’s tenure as Israel’s Prime Minister, marked by alliances with far-right coalitions, highlights how personal legal troubles can drive the creation of enemies to maintain power. Since 2019, Netanyahu has faced corruption charges, including bribery, fraud and breach of trust, stemming from allegations of accepting gifts and manipulating media and regulatory decisions for personal gain. Critics argue that his military actions in Gaza, particularly following the October 7, 2023, Hamas attack, serve as a distraction from these legal battles, prolonging conflict to delay accountability.
The Hamas attack, which killed 1,200 Israelis and took hostages, was a genuine security crisis. However, Netanyahu’s response, a prolonged war causing over 40,000 Palestinian deaths, widespread destruction, and allegations of famine, has been criticised as disproportionate and politically motivated. Before the attack, Netanyahu faced domestic unrest over 2023 judicial reforms aimed at weakening the courts prosecuting him, sparking mass protests. The war unified Israelis behind him, halting these reforms and delaying his trials under emergency pretexts. By maintaining a state of conflict, he avoids political and legal consequences, framing Hamas as an existential threat requiring his leadership.
Netanyahu’s policies, such as expanding West Bank settlements and maintaining Gaza’s blockade, have long fuelled tensions, contributing to the conditions that enabled Hamas’s attack. Yet, he seeks accolades for “defeating” Hamas, rejecting ceasefires that could end his “wartime” immunity. As of 2025, his corruption trial continues amid ongoing Gaza operations, with critics accusing him of prolonging the war to evade prosecution. Social media reflects this sentiment, with users labelling the conflict a “distraction” from his scandals. Netanyahu’s actions exemplify how far-right leaders exacerbate crises to claim heroism, at the expense of human lives and regional stability.
Donald Trump and Self-Inflicted Crises
Donald Trump’s presidencies (2017-2021 and 2025-present) exemplify the far-right tactic of inventing enemies to claim victories, often exacerbating issues to position himself as the indispensable fixer. In his first term, Trump declared a border “crisis,” implementing policies like family separations and a border wall, despite immigration patterns being consistent with those of previous decades. He accused a “deep state” conspiracy of undermining his administration, using this narrative to purge perceived disloyalists from government agencies, including the FBI and Department of Justice, and to justify attacks on institutional credibility. By framing bureaucrats and career officials as enemies, Trump rallied his base, claiming victories over an establishment he portrayed as corrupt, even as his actions deepened distrust in governance.
Re-elected in 2024, Trump’s second term, as of August 2025, has intensified this approach. On March 20, 2025, he signed an executive order titled “Improving Education Outcomes by Empowering Parents, States, and Communities,” directing Education Secretary Linda McMahon to begin dismantling the US Department of Education, a move consistent with his campaign promise to eliminate the agency. Trump pushed aggressively to reduce the department’s scope, citing federal overreach and inefficiency. By March 11, 2025, the department’s workforce was slashed from 4,133 to approximately 2,183, with 600 employees resigning voluntarily and others placed on administrative leave. A Supreme Court ruling on July 14, 2025, upheld Trump’s ability to fire 1,400 workers, overturning a lower court’s injunction. This executive action aimed to transfer key functions, such as student loans to the Small Business Administration and civil rights enforcement to the Department of Justice, though complete abolition requires congressional approval, which remains uncertain due to bipartisan resistance.
Trump’s broader strategy involves creating crises to claim credit for their resolution. In 2025, he invoked the 1798 Alien Enemies Act to deport Venezuelan gang members, framing immigration as an “invasion” and justifying mass deportations without due process. This historic law, originally intended for wartime “enemy aliens,” was repurposed to target immigrants, creating chaos in communities while Trump touted it as a triumph of border security. He also targeted political opponents, such as former Representative Liz Cheney, with investigations, weaponising government agencies to silence critics. His trade policies, including escalating tariffs, sparked trade wars with countries like China, which he then negotiated to produce “deals” for which he claimed praise. Similarly, Trump labelled the media “enemies of the people,” undermining public trust in journalism, only to claim victories over “fake news” when favourable coverage emerged.
Social media sentiment reflects this polarisation. Supporters praised Trump’s education order as a shift toward state control, while critics accused him of creating economic woes, such as inflation from tariffs, then seeking credit for addressing them. His first 100 days in 2025 focused heavily on retribution – firing federal officials, deporting millions, and targeting dissenters – further polarising the nation. These actions align with the far-right pattern of manufacturing enemies to justify authoritarian measures, then claiming accolades for “solving” self-inflicted problems. Trump’s dismantling of the Department of Education exemplifies this cycle, as he frames federal education programs as a bureaucratic enemy while proposing to redirect their functions elsewhere, all to bolster his image as a decisive leader. This approach risks destabilising critical programs like Title I funding and special education, eroding democratic norms while feeding a narrative of triumph over fabricated threats.
The Mechanics of Manufactured Enemies
Across these cases, a clear mechanism emerges. Far-right leaders identify a pre-existing societal fault line – ethnic, ideological, or geopolitical – and amplify it into a crisis. Hitler exploited anti-Semitism and economic despair; McCarthy capitalised on Cold War fears; Habyarimana weaponised Hutu-Tutsi divisions; Putin stoked anti-Western nationalism; Netanyahu leveraged security fears; and Trump inflamed immigration and political divides. These leaders use propaganda, policy, and sometimes violence to escalate tensions, creating enemies where none were imminent. They then position themselves as the sole solution, consolidating power through emergency measures, censorship, or military action.
This strategy thrives on fear and polarisation. By framing enemies as existential threats, leaders justify extraordinary powers – Hitler’s Enabling Act, McCarthy’s hearings, Putin’s censorship, Netanyahu’s war powers, Trump’s executive orders. The “resolution” of these crises, often incomplete or illusory, allows them to claim victories, reinforcing their indispensability. Yet, the consequences are dire: genocide in Germany and Rwanda, social division in America, wars in Ukraine and Gaza, and democratic erosion under Trump. The human cost – millions dead, displaced, or marginalised – underscores the destructiveness of this cycle.
Breaking the Cycle
To counter this pattern, societies must prioritise transparency, accountability, and inclusive governance. Independent institutions, courts, media, civil society, can check authoritarian overreach, as seen in McCarthy’s censure and judicial blocks on some of Trump’s policies. Education and dialogue can mitigate the fear and division that far-right leaders exploit, as Rwanda’s post-genocide reconciliation efforts demonstrate. International pressure, though often slow, can deter aggression, as seen in responses to Putin’s wars. Most critically, citizens must recognise when leaders manufacture threats for personal gain, demanding evidence over rhetoric and unity over division.
The far-right’s reliance on manufactured enemies is not a historical anomaly but a deliberate strategy rooted in ideological insecurity. Pluralism is seen as weakness, and perpetual crisis becomes a tool for control. By understanding this cycle – creation, escalation, resolution, adulation – we can resist its allure and build societies resilient to the false promises of strongman salvation. The lessons from Hitler, McCarthy, Habyarimana, Putin, Netanyahu, and Trump are clear: the true enemy is often the leader who claims to save us from one.
