Péter Krekó

Authoritarian regimes such as Russia and China are skillfully puffing themselves up to appear more economically, politically, and militarily powerful than they actually are—in particular, by presenting an outsized image of their ability to influence the politics of other countries. The success of this "authoritarian inflation" is clearly visible in Europe, the United States, and beyond. Distorted perceptions of authoritarian potency damage democratic confidence and help Russia and China to exert real influence, which turn undermines Western values and institutions. If left unchallenged, these false perceptions will become a self-fulfilling prophecy.

"You can spend $500,000 on Facebook ads and for several years the whole establishment of a huge western country will go nuts about interference, even though its real effect is risible. The investments are minimal but they give you front pages and power." In a 2019 interview, Russian opposition leader and anticorruption campaigner Alexei Navalny argued that the biggest achievement of Kremlin online-interference efforts had been making people believe that Moscow could manipulate the West—regardless of Moscow's ability to do so in reality.

 

In August 2020, Navalny was poisoned with a nerve agent called Novichok, a fact disclosed only when he was finally brought from Russia to a German hospital. Moscow, of course, denied any involvement, and a Kremlin-linked disinformation campaign insinuated that Western powers were to blame. But Bellingcat's international team of investigative journalists found overwhelming evidence implicating Russia's Federal Security Service (FSB) in the poisoning. Using cellphone, airline, and parking data, the journalists proved easily able to pick up the trail of agents who had followed Navalny—and when Navalny himself, pretending to be a senior Russian official, called one of them, the agent unwittingly supplied a detailed confession. Together with Bellingcat's earlier revelations regarding the failed poisoning of former Russian military-intelligence operative Sergei Skripal in Salisbury, England, these events suggest that Russia's notorious security services have not been living up to their reputation for stealth.

Beyond the questionable state of state secrecy, Russia's regime faces a host of problems that range from economic decline to diminished influence over events in its regional neighborhood.2 Its biggest military [End Page 109] rival, NATO, has incorporated North Macedonia and Montenegro in recent years despite heavy-handed Russian attempts to frustrate this. Nonetheless, Vladimir Putin and his allies have been remarkably effective at producing the impression that Russia is one of the world's greatest power brokers, with its U.S. and European rivals in decline. Surveys show Russia, the People's Republic of China (PRC), and the United States receiving roughly equal levels of approval as global leaders.3 In the eyes of global public opinion, Russian and PRC dreams of a "multipolar world" are becoming a reality.

The geopolitical order is clearly in flux, and democracies are losing ground globally.4 Yet perceptions may be changing faster than facts on the ground. This is in part because authoritarian powers such as Russia, and to a lesser extent China, are skillfully puffing themselves up to look more economically, politically, and militarily powerful than they actually are, exaggerating their own roles in other countries' politics as well as in global affairs. In contrast to classic soft power, these efforts—which I label "authoritarian inflation"—are more about being feared than about being loved.

Of course, inflation as a geopolitical strategy is not new. As the "image theory" in political psychology emphasizes, publics and policy makers alike determine their foreign-policy stances based on their impressions of other countries, not on objective realities. Governments frequently take this into account by striving to make their states look stronger, bigger, and more influential.5 In the last few years, however, Russia and China have been incomparably more successful at this endeavor than have their liberal-democratic rivals—and the authoritarians' success has profoundly affected politics and public opinion in Europe.

Surveys suggest that while neither Russia nor China is viewed with sympathy, they are seen as emerging powers, unlike the United States and the EU. Between 2010 and 2020, the share of citizens who viewed Putin's Russia favorably dropped from 49 to 19 percent in the United States, from 46 to 24 percent in the United Kingdom, and from 50 to 30 percent in Germany, according to a Pew poll. In eight of ten countries surveyed, Russia's popularity has declined since 2007; only in Italy has it increased.6 Yet despite its lack of likeability, Russia is seen as increasingly influential. Across 25 countries surveyed by Pew, the share of respondents who believed Russia to play a more important global role than it had ten years ago was more than twice as high (42 percent) as the share who thought that Russia had grown less important (19 percent). Meanwhile, 70 percent of respondents in the same countries saw China as playing a more important role than it had ten years ago, while only 8 percent thought the opposite. At the same time, China's popularity had also declined in the last decade.7

To sum up: While Russia and China are viewed with increasing antipathy, and confidence in their leaders is low—especially in the democratic  world—these regimes are nonetheless seen as increasingly powerful. This trend demonstrates that Russia and China seem to enjoy greater success in wielding "sharp power"—which rests on the ability to "'pierce, penetrate, or perforate the informations environments in the targeted countries"—than in cultivating soft power. As Christopher Walker and Jessica Ludwig argue, sharp power "is not principally about attraction or even persuasion; instead, it centers on distraction and manipulation."8 "Authoritarian inflation" is both a component and a byproduct of the sharp-power toolkit. In some cases, sharp-power activities may be specifically designed to pervade the information environments of democracies with narratives trumpeting the superiority of authoritarian models. At the same time, perceptions of authoritarian might can be a secondary effect of other operations, such as election-interference efforts that end up raising the profile of Putin's regime. Manipulating democratic institutions enables authoritarian superpowers not only to undermine the political systems of target countries, but also to create false impressions of their own near-omnipotence.

Perception versus Reality

Authoritarian inflation is successful when people perceive autocratic powers as stronger, richer, and more influential than they are. In Hungary, for example, a poll conducted by the Political Capital Institute found that the vast majority of the public has an exaggerated view of Russia's economic and military power. More than 80 percent of survey respondents overestimated Russia's importance in Hungary's trade relations; half went so far as to rank it among Hungary's top six export partners (in reality, Russia is only the seventeenth-largest). Meanwhile 54 percent of respondents overestimated the relative size of Russia's GDP, with many putting it ahead of the considerably more robust U.K. or German economies. Two-thirds of Hungarians overestimated Russia's relative military expenditures; many believed that they exceed U.S. military spending (which is in fact ten times greater), and most think that they are higher than the amount Beijing spends on its military (actually three times greater).9 Overestimating Russia's military capabilities is not a Hungary-specific phenomenon: In six of nine Central and East European countries polled by Globsec, more people believed that Russia has the world's strongest military than saw U.S. military power as surpassing Russia's.10

This false perception was most widespread in Serbia, the region's easiest target for authoritarian inflation. According to a poll by RFE/RL, 40 percent of the Serbian population believes that China is the country's largest donor, while 15 percent point to Russia. Only 18 percent correctly identify the EU as the biggest source of aid to Serbia. In reality, as CSIS reported (based on RFE/RL data), Brussels's assistance from 2010 [End Page 111] to 2020 amounted to 1.8 billion euros (excluding funds from private sources or NGOs), with the next-largest donors being Germany (189 million), the United States (161 million), and the United Nations (141 million). Russia's aid to Serbia is in fact negligible, and China promised 56 million euros but is believed to have ultimatedly delivered only 12 percent of that amount (or 6.6 million euros).11

Thanks to creative Russian and PRC "mask diplomacy," authoritarian inflation shaped perceptions of the aid landscape during the covid-19 pandemic. Cargo planes bringing medical equipment from China were welcomed in Belgrade, Bratislava, Budapest, and Prague. Russia sent medical equipment to Italy and the United States. These deliveries, highly publicized by Russian and PRC state-media outlets as well as by social-media influencers, sent a message contrasting autocratic strength to democratic weakness in managing the crisis.

Such messages found a receptive audience in many EU countries, for the most part due less to any love of Beijing—large shares of Europeans reported that their impressions of China had grown more negative during the covid-19 crisis—than to dissatisfaction with Brussels. In each of nine countries surveyed by the European Council on Foreign Relations, pluralities agreed that the EU had been "irrelevant during the pandemic." In Italy, 25 percent named China as their most useful ally in the crisis, while only 4 percent cited the EU.12 Likewise in Slovakia, 67 percent of respondents saw China as helping their country to fight covid-19, while only 21 percent were prepared to say the same of the EU.13 In fact, while China did donate masks and other equipment to Slovakia and Italy (or, much more frequently, sold them at a markup), it was Brussels that provided direct financial assistance to both in the form of massive loans from its recovery fund (630 million euros went to Slovakia, and approximately 27 billion to Italy).14 The PRC's assertive public diplomacy also obscured other parts of the picture: for instance, that EU countries assisted one another on a bilateral basis, and that as recently as February 2020 it had been the EU supplying the PRC with medical equipment.

Tools of Authoritarian Inflation

How have the perceptions of European publics come to be so distorted? Four likely factors include authoritarian disinformation, malinformation, and propaganda; investments made by autocratic regimes or their allies for political purposes (corrosive capital); receptive national politicians in democracies; and the diminished allure of Western democratic models.

The information offensive

Both Russia and China have long invested in information campaigns proclaiming the collapse of Western [End Page 112] institutions and the erosion of Western values. These narratives contrast the purported efficiency of authoritarian systems with the alleged weakness of liberal democracies, ranging across themes of military power, economic heft, and technological dynamism. Moscow's messages juxtapose supposedly nihilist and decadent Western liberalism with Russia's fealty to traditional values; PRC disinformation, meanwhile, emphasizes China's leading role in science and innovation. Inflated impressions of authoritarian power may flow both from the content of these messages and, less intuitively, from public attention to the influence campaigns themselves.

Kremlin messaging has long worked to build an inflated impression of Russia's economic strength, as well as an exaggerated sense of threat from Russian military might. This has entailed repeated hints at the prospect of nuclear war, notably including top propagandist Dmitry Kiselev's bombastic warning that Russia could "turn the United States into radioactive ash."15 Officials have also made improbable claims about Russia's prospects for victory in a traditional military conflict against NATO, and Russian disinformation gives a misleading impression of Moscow's military supremacy. On the economic front, the state propaganda channel RT has incorrectly suggested that Russia's GDP surpasses those of some G-7 members. Other propaganda outlets have sought without factual basis to present Russian innovation as the force behind technological breakthroughs from Elon Musk's spacecraft to AstraZeneca's covid-19 vaccine.16

Beijing stepped up its own efforts at authoritarian inflation in response to the reputational threat posed by covid-19: From the start, authorities concealed information to create a misleading impression of their success against the virus. Images of a Wuhan superhospital allegedly built within sixteen hours hours spread widely online, though AFP factcheckers found this story to be a myth. At the same time, China disseminated propaganda in European states that cast Beijing as the primary source of pandemic assistance. Authoritarian information policies are, obviously, not only about whole-cloth fabrications: China did send masks and repirators (sometimes free, more often for a price) to countries in need, and Russia did send doctors and medical professionals to Italy. These real acts however, served as a basis for inflated stories. This underscores a broader point: Authoritarian inflation, especially during the covid-19 pandemic, has relied at least as much on malinformation  (real stories distorted, amplified, and taken out of context to mislead audiences) as on disinformation.17

Since the start of the covid-19 pandemic, authoritarian efforts to undermine the reputation of the United States and the EU while playing up alternative models have intensified and grown more coordinated. According to a report by the Global Engagement Center, the narratives peddled by China, Iran, and Russia have converged more than ever before, and this choir has been singing a tune that contrasts China's allegedly sound management of both the virus and its economy with unfolding catastrophe in the United States. Russian disinformation outlets have suggested that NATO has lost its raison d'^etre in light of the crisis and have claimed that the pandemic marked an end to Europe's soft power, since the continent had become the "sick man of the world." Authoritarian disinformation campaigns have also tried to present Western countries, rather than China, as the original source of the virus.18

While traditional media and diplomatic channels are also involved, social media give a major boost to authoritarian inflation. For example, Russian nationals in Italy reportedly offered money to Italians in exchange for putting up social-media posts with videos thanking Moscow and Putin for coronavirus aid.19 More generally, bots, trolls, targeted ads, and other manipulative digital tools amplify disinformation narratives, using artificial "grassroots" voices to create a false impression that democratic publics are rallying around authoritarian flags.

Then again, appearance may once again be running ahead of reality when it comes to the political impact of online influence campaigns. Analysts have called into question the effectiveness of Russia's internet trolling, with one study finding no evidence that interacting with Russian troll accounts substantially impacted social-media users' political attitudes and behaviors.20 Other studies have found that the reach of "fake news" and Russian state-media outlets appears to be underwhelming when compared to other information sources.21 Nonetheless, it has become almost conventional wisdom that Russian disinformation, bots, and trolls helped Donald Trump to win the U.S. presidency in 2016. Even if authoritarian disinformation has rarely been proven to have a decisive impact on voters' attitudes and behaviors, widespread belief to the contrary makes authoritarian states appear more powerful in the eyes of democratic publics.

Strategic investing

Corruption-riddled investments in key sectors are a second tool with which authoritarian countries can inflate their importance. Through "corrosive capital," Martin Hála has argued, "with relatively modest 'investments' … an authoritarian power can penetrate and corrode the institutional framework of democratic rule from the top down."22 With the same modest investments, these authoritarian powers can create the impression that they are crucial economic players. 

Russian investments in Eastern Europe come with political strings attached. In Hungary, for instance, although the total volume of Russian investment has remained relatively low, the Kremlin exerts significant political influence thanks to "elite relations" and a concerted effort to push cooperation in targeted sectors, such as energy. Russia has similarly established itself as a key regional player in the Western Balkans by targeting designated economic sectors, with a notable impact on Balkan countries' policies vis-à-vis NATO and the EU.23

While China is unquestionably an essential economic player globally, its main asset is its huge market, not the direct investments that it makes. Still, it can inflate its importance as an investor by focusing on crucial sectors and cultivating political influence. As in the Russian case, political and economic ties between Beijing and Budapest have tightened in advance of any significant PRC investment in Hungary. Viktor Orbán's government has granted Beijing political favors that depart from EU priorities, and Budapest has proven ready to veto EU decisions that hurt China's political or economic interests.24 The Budapest-Belgrade railway line, an important project in the PRC's Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), will bring PRC goods into the EU and will yield a far greater return for China than for Hungary, but it is Hungarian taxpayers who will shoulder most of the costs in the form of loan repayments.25 A new campus of Fudan University will be built in Hungary in the coming years, again financed by Hungarian taxpayers through PRC loans. The project most likely will be managed in ways that circumvent standard tendering procedures, and will likely draw its raw material and workforce mainly from the PRC.

The situation is particularly acute in Serbia, whose geographic position as a link between Central Europe and the Mediterranean has drawn special interest from Beijing; some researchers have warned of the country "becoming a Chinese client state."26 Many Serbians have come to perceive Beijing as a critical economic partner and selfless provider of humanitarian aid, and China has successfully prompted politicians to align with Beijing's foreign-policy objectives, potentially jeopardizing Serbia's EU-integration prospects.

In fact, the philosophy behind the PRC's "17+1" initiative—Beijing's gambit for engaging Central and East European countries—seems quite simple: maximal gains for minimal investments. Despite Beijing's promises to invest significant amounts under the framework, relatively few projects have come to fruition.27 The gap between PRC promises and reality does not go unnoticed. Even Czech president Miloš Zeman, formerly  one of the region's loudest advocates of China-friendly policies, initially refused to participate in a 17+1 summit in Beijing scheduled for April 2020, explaining "I don't think the Chinese side has done what it promised. I'm talking about investments."28 Nevertheless, outreach to the region has already earned Beijing disproportionate economic benefits, political favors, and local political support for further cooperation.

While Chinese investments garner considerable attention in Central and Eastern Europe, capital coming from democratic countries in Asia draws far less notice—even when the latter are in fact larger players.29 In Hungary, foreign direct investment (FDI) from both Japan and India exceeds Chinese investments considerably. In the Czech Republic, the volume of FDI from South Korea is three times as great as that from China, and in Poland, Japanese companies invest five times the amount that PRC companies do.

Susceptible politicians

In the eyes of democratic publics, local politicians are typically more credible messengers than foreign disinformation outlets. Thus authoritarian inflation becomes more effective when domestic elites amplify the self-presentations of authoritarian super-powers. National political players can do this two ways: first, by making "pragmatic" arguments that their countries need to cooperate with authoritarian heavyweights because the latter are so big and powerful; and second, by openly expressing admiration for these autocracies. The former line tends to be more common among forces in government, the latter among those in opposition.

"We are sailing under a Western flag, though an Eastern wind is blowing in the world economy."30 So Viktor Orbán explained the importance of Eastern economic ties in 2010, at the outset of what would become more than a decade as prime minister. Since then, he has consistently depicted Western liberal democracies as doomed to failure while speaking with admiration of alternative authoritarian models. In a widely cited 2014 speech, he hailed Singapore, China, India, Turkey, and Russia as countries with "systems that are not Western, not liberal, not liberal democracies, maybe not even democracies, and yet making nations successful."31 Orbán would like voters to believe that without his "pragmatic" eastward-looking policies, the Hungarian economy would collapse: In criticizing EU sanctions against Russia, for instance, his government has made greatly exaggerated claims about economic costs to Hungary.32 Such rhetoric has contributed to unrealistic perceptions of Russia's economic importance to Hungary—especially among supporters of Orbán's party, Fidesz.

As noted above, authoritarian inflation has found hospitable terrain in Serbia, where Russia is widely seen as a friend and where anti-Western sentiments, partly as a result of NATO bombing during the post-Yugoslav wars of the 1990s, are strong. While President Aleksandar Vuc̆ić  has been maintaining a careful balancing act between East and West and has continued to pursue EU membership, he is not shy about praising Russia and China when he deems that to be necessary. In March 2020, when China sent six doctors and some healthcare equipment to the country, the Serbian president called China the "most honest and trustworthy friend" of his country and kissed the Chinese flag in front of the cameras. Billboards paid for by a progovernment tabloid voiced thanks for the support of "Brother Xi." These gestures may explain why so many Serbians are more grateful to China than to the EU, which has not enjoyed similar forms of free publicity.33 The senior coalition partner in the government of Italian prime minister Giuseppe Conte (2018–21), the famously pro-PRC Five Star Movement, similarly contributed to distorted perceptions around the sources of assistance in that country, loudly lauding China and its "friendly help."

Fringe voices on the far right and far left contribute to authoritarian inflation in a different way: Radical politicians, generally not in government, can afford to be even more effusive in expressing admiration for authoritarian powers. The mutual affection between Russia and European extremist parties, especially on the far right, has been well documented, and in some cases analysts believe that Kremlin proxies have supported these parties financially. Moscow's open shows of support might lead onlookers to conclude that the Kremlin is the leading force behind the spectacular rise of the populist radical right in Europe, an impression only strengthened as these political forces line up to cast pro-Russian votes in the European Parliament. Yet this is a false perception: In fact, far-right parties' success in Europe has been driven mainly by domestic attitudes, such as anti-Muslim sentiments and Euroskepticism, that yield support for their policies.

Where politicians speak positively of authoritarian powers, supporters may warm to these powers as well. Putin's ratings, for instance, are much more positive among Europeans who are favorably inclined toward right-wing populist parties (such as the Alternative for Germany or Italy's Lega) than among those who dislike these parties.34 In the United States, Republican and Republican-leaning voters' sympathy toward Russia increased in 2016, a year in which Trump himself spoke favorably of Russia and the narrative emerged that Russia helped Trump to win the election.35

A democratic malaise

Authoritarian inflation would be less successful if Western democratic models were still as attractive as they once were. During the covid-19 pandemic, however, both the European Union and the United States proved to be easy targets for authoritarian rhetorical attacks. Early on, the United States had one of the world's worst overall track records in handling the crisis, while the European Union was largely unprepared at the pandemic's outset and later struggled  with the distribution of vaccines. Citizens in both settings were mostly unsatisfied with their leaders' handling of the pandemic.

These developments only sharpened a longer-term decline in the global reputation of the United States,36 a trend likely to be exacerbated by unsubstantiated allegations of fraud in the 2020 presidential election and by the 6 January 2021 storming of the Capitol. While before 2016, approval for U.S. global leadership significantly surpassed approval for Russian or PRC leadership, now all three ratings are clustered closely together (around 30 percent).

Despite significant soft-power investments by Russia and China in the last few years, these countries have been unsuccessful in winning hearts and minds. Yet they have been highly successful in creating the illusion of their own near-omnipotence in influencing Western policy and politics, changing electoral outcomes, and dominating economies. The mystification of Russia in the Western world is perhaps the greatest accomplishment to date of the Kremlin's spin doctors. By wielding sharp-power tools, Russia and China can reap huge benefits in terms of global public perceptions while investing only moderate resources.

Authoritarian inflation can function as a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy. In the context of geopolitical competition and information warfare, Russia and China can exploit overblown perceptions of their strength, and of liberal democracies' weakness, to win allies and admirers. Amid gloomy expectations of liberal-democratic decline, Beijing and Moscow are always ready to offer themselves up as alternative models. And leaders on the receiving end may wonder: If Russia and China are this strong and dangerous, why not choose them as our principal allies?

Mystification of authoritarian powers can shape the decisions that politicians make about whether to support investments or turn to autocracies for military purchases—not to mention whether to speak up about human-rights abuses. If the public overestimates authoritarian superpowers' strength, this may put pressure on politicians to be "pragmatic" and avoid confrontation. Some Central and East European governments, for instance, have grown reluctant to criticize Beijing despite the latter's failure to live up to expectations as an economic partner.

Corrosive investments likewise create a vicious cycle: They corrupt politicians in targeted countries and make them willing agents of authoritarian inflation; perceptions of authoritarian states as powerful and influential in turn create a climate conducive to further authoritarian investments. This pattern is clearly visible in Hungary, where a widespread belief in Western decline and authoritarian ascendancy has led to support both for economic engagement with China and for pro-Beijing political gestures.

Of course, projecting power can also lead to a backlash. Russia's territorial aggression, disinformation campaigns, cyberattacks, and overseas political murders have resulted in U.S. and EU sanctions that have  deepened Moscow's financial woes. Beijing's push to play a leading role in 5G infrastructure, combined with a more assertive and even arrogant overall foreign-policy line, has led many Western governments to take precautionary measures aimed at limiting the dominance of PRC tech giant Huawei. In countries such as the Czech Republic, where proPRC figures are a major presence, voices critical of Beijing have grown louder. Spectacular investment strategies (especially the BRI) are meeting with growing public skepticism, criticism, and concern. The European Parliament and other EU institutions have taken an interest in devising effective responses to malign authoritarian influence. The rapidly building European backlash against Russia and China highlights the possible limits of their strategy of authoritarian inflation.

Demystifying Authoritarianism

Ex–Kremlin spin doctor Gleb Pavlovsky has noted that the Kremlin can now simulate global power and influence by leaving fingerprints on hackings and influence operations, providing a theatrical performance for a global audience.37 Confronting authoritarian inflation does not mean ignoring the real strengths and successes of authoritarian powers. China is unquestionably a superpower, and one that gives its neighbors good reason to be afraid. Russia has proven able to punch above its weight through tactics such as selective geopolitical engagement, sophisticated hacking exploits, and—as Catherine Belton has recently shown—using "black money" to subvert democratic institutions in formally legal if unethical ways. But as Belton also recognizes, the Putin regime's short-sighted approach has ultimately made the country weaker. In Anne Applebaum's words: "They have once again created a calcified, authoritarian political system … and a corrupt economy that discourages innovation and entrepreneurship. Instead of experiencing the prosperity and political dynamism that still seemed possible in the '90s, Russia is once again impoverished and apathetic."38

Vigilance and a deeper understanding of authoritarian threats are crucial for the survival of the democratic world. At the same time, overblown, sensationalist discussion only saps democratic confidence while helping authoritarian powers to look bigger, better, and more successful than they are—all of which enhances the effectiveness of sharp-power tools. After the 2016 U.S. election, CNN ran a television program on Putin with the title: "The Most Powerful Man in the World." With free publicity like this, Kremlin spin doctors have nothing left to do but pop the champagne.

This problem calls for a new approach to tackling authoritarian disinformation, sharp power, and hybrid warfare. Politicians, policy makers, and pundits should talk in a more balanced and nuanced way, highlighting the weaknesses of authoritarian superpowers as well as the threats they pose. The shabbiness of many Russian secret-service operations [End Page 119] deserves more attention, for example. Russia also faces deep domestic challenges that include a struggling economy, a declining population, catastrophic health indicators, and a lack of innovation, while mass emigration from the country calls into question the appeal of its "alternative model." While China's position is far more advantageous, Beijing, too, has managed to exaggerate its punch—with the help of sympathetic leaders in European capitals. Commentators should demystify PRC capital by reminding themselves of an important piece of context: In many countries, Japan, South Korea, and Taiwan are more important investors than the PRC.

Political Capital's research on Central Europe found that feelings of insecurity and inferiority are important drivers of anti-Western and pro-Russian sentiments. Institutions responsible for strategic communication in the United States, the EU, and other democratic settings must find innovative ways to restore confidence in liberal democracy, as well as to talk about security challenges while avoiding the trap of authoritarian inflation. International broadcasting services should strive to offer audiences a comprehensive picture of the internal situations in China and Russia, one that complicates simplistic myths of authoritarian power. With authoritarians increasingly coordinating among themselves, democracies should step up their own cooperation, in part through more systematic efforts to exchange experiences with sharp-power tactics. In the disinformation domain, increased cooperation between Beijing and Moscow requires more coordinated and efficient countermessaging. Regular surveys should be used to gauge the effects of disinformation and authoritarian inflation in different parts of the world.

As they confront a difficult environment, particularly in the aftermath of the January 6 attack in Washington, U.S. institutions aiming to promote democratic values will need to employ more cautious strategies. Grumbles that "the West lectures us" or "the United States thinks that they know better than we do" can be heard around the world, sometimes followed by a verdict: "The West is not any better than Russia." Today's challenges call for an approach that emphasizes two-way learning, mutual understanding, and mutual involvement, rather than one-way knowledge and policy transfers.

Democratic pessimism and declining trust in liberal-democratic institutions exacerbate authoritarian inflation. Thus, democracy's supporters should also remember to talk about the strength of basic liberal-democratic values and institutions, which may be too easily forgotten in challenging times such as those we are living through today. If publics do not regain confidence in liberal democracy, they will become more and more obsessed with "alternative models of governance," increasing the risk of authoritarian shifts or even takeovers. An effective response to authoritarian inflation requires a nuanced and careful message—one that confronts the challenges autocracies present without helping their  propagandists to paint a demoralizing picture of democratic despondency and authoritarian ascent.

Péter Krekó

Péter Krekó is director of the Political Capital Policy Research and Consulting Institute in Budapest and associate professor at Eötvös Loránd University of Sciences. In 2020–21, he was a Reagan-Fascell Fellow at the National Endowment for Democracy.

 

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