How to save the world from a fascist takeover [kkf longread]

Egor Kotkin delivers a startling thesis: the current surge in authoritarianism isn't a random political glitch, but the inevitable result of a half-century of deliberate economic deregulation that has recreated the exact conditions of 1920s Europe. While mainstream analysis often fixates on individual leaders or cultural shifts, Kotkin forces a structural reckoning, arguing that the rollback of New Deal-era protections has left the working class with no hope of material improvement, thereby fueling the very fascism the West claims to oppose. This is not a prediction; it is a diagnosis of a system that has successfully engineered its own crisis.

The Architecture of Crisis

Kotkin anchors his argument in historical parallelism, tracing the rise of modern fascism directly to the economic policies of the 1970s. He writes, "The rollback of regulations introduced after the Great Depression did the only thing it could do: it returned the conditions of capitalism to the very state that led to the rise of fascism and the Great Depression in the 1920s." This framing is powerful because it strips away the mystique of recent political events, presenting them instead as the logical conclusion of neoliberalism. By linking the Lewis Powell memo and Milton Friedman's theories to the current geopolitical instability, Kotkin suggests that the executive branch and corporate interests didn't just stumble into chaos; they paved the road to it.

However, the argument relies heavily on the assumption that economic desperation is the sole driver of fascism, potentially underestimating the role of cultural anxiety and identity politics that often accompany such economic shifts. Critics might note that while inequality is a potent fuel, it rarely burns alone without the spark of specific ideological narratives.

"The current global rise of fascism was anything but unexpected... the power of economic coercion under capitalism was weakening, as late capitalism no longer left the working masses any hope of material improvement in the future."

Kotkin's analysis of the United States' role is particularly sharp. He argues that the nation has transitioned from a stabilizer of the global order to its primary destabilizer. "The fact that this time America itself is playing the role of not only the main economic instigator, but also the main villain, became obvious during [the recent administration's] first term," he notes, describing a shift from a "Weimar Republic" dynamic to something far more ominous. This is a bold claim, one that challenges the traditional view of American exceptionalism. It forces the reader to consider that the erosion of democratic norms is not an anomaly but a feature of a system that has prioritized capital over social cohesion for decades.

The Colonial Mirror

The piece takes a significant turn by connecting domestic authoritarianism to global imperialism. Kotkin posits that the West's attempt to replicate itself globally through colonization has backfired, creating a unified front of resistance. He asserts, "The West's failed attempt to unite the world directly, by replicating itself globally through colonizing the entire planet, has simultaneously created the conditions for the awakening of global humanity indirectly—through its denial by the rest of the world." This reframing is crucial. It suggests that the rise of the "Global South" is not merely a geopolitical shift but a moral reckoning.

The author draws a direct line between the historical decolonization of Africa and the current legal challenges against Israel. He references the "year of Africa" in 1960, when 17 nations declared sovereignty, to illustrate that political independence did not equate to true freedom. "Declaring independence does not in itself constitutes decolonization necessarily," Kotkin writes, pointing out that without dismantling the economic structures of exploitation, new nation-states often become conduits for the same predatory interests. This echoes the broader theme of neocolonialism, where local elites replace foreign rulers but maintain the extractive machinery.

"Colonialism is the forerunner of fascism (colonialism is fascism abroad, fascism is colonialism at home); the colonial nature of the Israel project."

This equation is the essay's most provocative element. By labeling the current conflict in Gaza as a "new Holocaust" and framing the United States' support as a withdrawal from international law, Kotkin places the conflict squarely within the historical arc of colonial violence. He argues that the US has effectively abdicated its role as a guarantor of international law, leaving the defense of legal norms to nations like Brazil and South Africa. "If international law survives in this war, it will be in spite of the United States and thanks to the 'third world'," he states. This is a stark reversal of the post-WWII order, suggesting that the moral authority of the West has collapsed.

Critics might argue that equating modern state conflicts with the industrialized genocide of the 20th century risks diluting the specific horror of the Holocaust. Yet, Kotkin's intent seems to be to highlight the structural continuity of dehumanization rather than to equate the specific mechanics of the atrocities. The point is that the logic of colonial exploitation—treating entire populations as expendable resources—remains unchanged.

The Illusion of Freedom

Kotkin dismantles the liberal conception of freedom, arguing that it has been reduced to a property right rather than a social capacity. He leans on anthropologist David Graeber to make his case: "Originally freedom meant 'not being a slave', and so referred to people who had social relations." In contrast, the modern definition allows the powerful to deny access to others, creating a world where "none of the more than 190 'independent' states on the world map is free in their relations with each other."

This section is a profound critique of the post-Cold War order. The author argues that the United States, by leveraging the petrodollar and unilateral sanctions, has turned the concept of sovereignty into a fiction for most of the world. "The freedom of the United States to prohibit third countries from doing business among themselves has demonstrated that... the United States, by increasingly prohibiting relations with other countries, is thereby claiming ownership of the entire world." This is a chilling assessment of how economic power translates into political dominion. It suggests that the fragmentation of the world into competing states is a deliberate strategy to maintain Western hegemony.

"The lie of the liberal idea of decolonization... reducing the meaning of the struggle to the external features of emancipation in order to obscure its material demands."

Kotkin's analysis of post-colonial elites is equally unforgiving. He argues that these leaders, having seized power, often become complicit in the very systems they claimed to overthrow. "Any liberation struggle, if successful, is doomed to reproduce the relations of economic plunder in one form or another, institutionalized," he writes, unless it is fundamentally anti-capitalist. This explains why many post-colonial nations remain trapped in cycles of conflict and poverty. The system is designed to prevent true liberation, co-opting revolutionary movements into the machinery of exploitation.

Bottom Line

Egor Kotkin's essay is a searing indictment of the global order, arguing that fascism is not an aberration but the natural endpoint of unchecked neoliberal capitalism and colonial exploitation. Its greatest strength lies in connecting the dots between 1920s economic collapse, 1970s deregulation, and today's geopolitical fractures, offering a cohesive narrative that mainstream analysis often misses. However, the piece's vulnerability is its deterministic view of history, which may leave little room for the agency of political movements that seek to reform rather than overthrow the system. For the busy reader, the takeaway is clear: the crisis we face is structural, and the solutions require more than just changing leadership—they demand a fundamental reimagining of how the world is organized.

"Colonialism is the forerunner of fascism (colonialism is fascism abroad, fascism is colonialism at home); the colonial nature of the Israel project."

The strongest part of this argument is its refusal to separate domestic authoritarianism from foreign policy, treating them as two sides of the same coin of exploitation. The biggest vulnerability is the assumption that the current trajectory is irreversible without a total systemic collapse. What to watch next is whether the "third world" legal front, as described by Kotkin, can actually enforce international law against the will of the US, or if it will remain a symbolic gesture in a world where power still dictates the rules.