There is something almost fascinating – were it not for the fact that it is politically disturbing – about the ability of the contemporary far right to turn contradiction into a virtue. To advocate models of society which, if taken to their logical conclusion, would often end up calling into question the very lives, choices or privileges of those who propose them.

Perhaps the most sensational case is that of Alice Weidel, leader of Alternative für Deutschland.

Weidel leads a party that has made the fight against immigration, against so-called ‘gender ideology’ and in defence of the traditional family some of its defining characteristics. The AfD itself still defines the family as consisting of ‘father, mother and children’.

Alice Weidel, however, is a lesbian. She lives with a woman, Sarah Bossard, who was born in Sri Lanka and grew up in Switzerland, and together they are bringing up two children. She spends part of her time living in Switzerland.

There is, of course, no contradiction in being a lesbian, having a partner of foreign origin or bringing up children. The contradiction arises when one leads a political movement that proposes a social model for others in which one’s own family would have no place.

It is as if the exception were always oneself.

The same peculiarity is evident in the realm of nationalism.

Weidel calls for a sovereign Germany, denounces dependence on foreign powers and opposes European integration, but at the same time proposes rebuilding a special relationship with Vladimir Putin’s Russia. In June 2026, she openly advocated the need to resume purchasing Russian oil and gas and to end the energy boycott of Moscow. The AfD’s relations with Russia have become so controversial that, in Germany, members of the ruling coalition have accused the party of acting as a sort of ‘fifth column’ for the Kremlin.

Sovereignists, then. Provided, that is, that the sovereignty to be defended does not conflict with Moscow’s interests.

The age-old contradiction of the far right

Actually, this is nothing new.

Nazism built an entire mythology around purity, physical perfection, biological selection and the ideal Germanic man. Yet, looking at many of its top leaders, the contrast between the caricature of the ‘perfect Aryan’ put forward by the propaganda and the men who ruled the Reich was striking.

We must, however, be careful not to turn this element into a historically inaccurate caricature. The point is not to establish whether Hitler was sufficiently fair-haired, whether Himmler had the right physique, or whether Goebbels physically matched the propaganda ideal. The far more serious paradox lies elsewhere: men who were anything but the embodiment of the perfect human being built a state that claimed to classify other human beings on the basis of their supposed biological perfection.

Joseph Goebbels, for example, had a severe disability in one leg. And he was Minister of Propaganda in a regime that became obsessed with the biological health of the population and went so far as to carry out forced sterilisation and the murder of people deemedto be ‘lives unworthy of living’.

Nazism thus demonstrated a principle that would outlive it: ideological purity is almost always a standard imposed on others.

Vannacci, the anti-establishment figure produced by the establishment

In Italy, Roberto Vannacci is a particularly interesting example.

His political narrative is fuelled by the idea of rebellion: against the system, against the elites, against Brussels, against political correctness, and against an establishment that he claims has stifled the freedom of Italians.

But it would be hard to imagine a biography that delves deeper into the inner workings of these institutions.

Vannacci does not come from a community centre, a squatted factory or a life spent on the fringes of society. He is a general in the Italian Army, having risen to the very top of the military hierarchy after a full career in the Armed Forces. He retired at the age of 56 (his pension calculated under a mixed income-and-contribution-based system, based on a total of 44 years’ contribution history). And after leaving one of the institutions that, by definition, represent the state, he joined another of the institutions that his political camp likes to portray as a symbol of alienation from the people: the European Parliament.

He therefore currently receives both the pension arising from his military career and the allowance payable to a Member of the European Parliament.

There is nothing unlawful about any of this, but it is hard to find a more perfect example of an anti-establishment figure who is paid by the establishment.

Even his brand of sovereignism displays a curious inconsistency, because the proclaimed centrality of Italian national interests is accompanied by a constant political goodwill towards Vladimir Putin’s Russia. It is a contradiction that runs through much of the new radical European right: they call for their nation’s independence from Brussels whilst at the same time showing sympathy towards a foreign power that has carried out a military invasion of a European country.

National sovereignty thus becomes an absolute value when it comes to criticising the European Union, yet surprisingly relative when it is Russia that violates it.

Marine Le Pen: against Brussels, thanks to Brussels

Marine Le Pen offers another take on the same paradox.

For years , the Front National – later the Rassemblement National – has built a significant part of its political success on denouncing Brussels, the European Union and its institutions as bodies that are out of touch with the French people.

Then the French courts got involved.

In March 2025, Le Pen was found guilty at first instance in the trial concerning the use of European Parliament funds intended for parliamentary assistants. According to the court, millions of euros of European funds were used to pay people who were in fact working for the party in France.

Le Pen contested the ruling and the legal proceedings have since taken further turns, but the political paradox remains remarkable: a movement that for years has denounced the transfer of taxpayers’ money to Brussels has been found guilty of misusing funds from Brussels itself.

And then there’s Russia.

In 2014, the Front National secured a loan of 9 million euros from the First Czech Russian Bank in Moscow, after — according to Le Pen’s explanation — French banks had refused to finance the party.

French nationalism funded by a Russian bank: here too, reality seems to have a particular penchant for irony.

Nigel Farage, the man who made his career within the very institution he wanted to destroy

Then there’s Nigel Farage.

Probably no European politician has built such a long career on the need to leave the European Union. And probably few British politicians have spent so much time within a European Union institution.

Farage was a Member of the European Parliament from 1999 to 2020.

For over twenty years, he received the allowance provided by the European Parliament whilst using that very same Parliament as a platform from which to explain just how useless, harmful and oppressive the institution was that provided him with that very platform.

Here too, there was nothing unlawful about it: he had been elected and had every right to sit there. But politically, the paradox remains striking.

Farage managed to turn the European Union into the very machine that funded and boosted the career of the man whose main political objective was to take his country out of the European Union.

Jordan Bardella: the revolt against theelite, from the private club in Monte Carlo

Finally, there is a contradiction that is perhaps even more contemporary: that of Jordan Bardella.

The young leader of the Rassemblement National has carefully crafted his political narrative around his working-class roots, the Parisian suburbs and his distance from the elites who govern France.

Politics also offers interesting opportunities for social mobility.

In 2026, *Le Monde* reported on Bardella’s gradual involvement with precisely that world which populist rhetoric normally identifies as ‘the establishment’: major business leaders, some of France’s wealthiest families, celebrities and international leaders.

In June, he was photographed at the Monaco Formula 1 Grand Prix in a private box alongside his partner, a member of the House of Bourbon-Two Sicilies.

From the people against the elites to the private club in Monte Carlo.

Of course, there is nothing wrong with mixing with wealthy people, attending a Grand Prix or falling in love with an aristocrat. The problem arises when political identity is constructed by constantly pitting an ‘us’ – the authentic, forgotten people – against a ‘them’ – the cosmopolitan, privileged elite – only to then step quite naturally into the drawing room of that very ‘them’.

These are not contradictions. They are the mechanism

One could go on at length. But perhaps the most interesting point is not to catalogue individual instances of hypocrisy, but rather to understand why these contradictions do not seem to cause any political harm to those who embody them.

Why does a voter who regards same-sex families as a threat to the traditional family accept that his party is led by a woman who lives in a same-sex family?

Why should those who regard Brussels as an elite trust politicians who have spent years in the European Parliament?

Why do those who proclaim ‘our nation first’ not find that slogan incompatible with a systematic leniency towards Russia?

Why do those who declare war on the elites continue to place their trust in millionaires, generals, career politicians and regulars at the most exclusive social gatherings?

The answer might be far less complicated than it seems.

Contemporary radical populism does not ask its voters to check whether there is consistency between what the leader says and what the leader is. It asks them only to check whether the leader points to the same enemies that they themselves point to.

The immigrant.

“Brussels”.

The gay man.

The Progressive.

The journalist.

The intellectual.

The judiciary.

The elite. The ‘globalist’.

The one who is different.

Once a common enemy has been created, personal differences become secondary. Indeed, they can even become a form of defence.

Weidel might be implying: ‘How could I be homophobic if I’m a lesbian?’

The general can serve as living proof that even ‘one of the system’ can rebel against the system.

The MEP may claim to know Brussels from the inside and, for that very reason, to want to fight it.

The privileged individual may claim that their own experience enables them to understand just how corrupt the elites are.

The contradiction is absorbed and transformed into a credential.

And this is perhaps the most effective feature of the new far right: it does not eliminate its own inconsistencies. It renders them irrelevant.

“I’m always the exception”

Ultimately, the mechanism can be summarised in a very simple formula.

The family must be a traditional one – except for mine.

Foreigners are a problem, except for those who are part of my life.

The elites are corrupt, except for the one to which I belong.

The European institutions are parasitic, except when they pay me.

The state is a caste, except when it guarantees me a career and a pension.

Foreign powers must not interfere with our sovereignty, except when that power is Putin’s Russia.

It is the oldest privilege of authoritarian power: to impose rules on others from which the one who proclaims them naturally considers himself exempt.

Yet the real question is not about Alice Weidel, Roberto Vannacci, Marine Le Pen, Nigel Farage or Jordan Bardella.

It concerns their voters.

How is it possible that millions of people fail to see these contradictions? Or, perhaps even more disturbing, how is it possible that they see them perfectly well and decide that it doesn’t matter?

It is here that the phenomenon takes on a political dimension and is no longer merely psychological.

Because perhaps those people aren’t voting for a way of life.
They are voting for a sense of belonging.
They do not ask the leader to be consistent with the rules he proclaims: they ask him to decide to whom those rules should be applied.

And so inconsistency suddenly ceases to be a flaw.

The far right does not promise equal rules for everyone: it promises its voters that those rules will be applied to others.

The message is no longer: we will all live by these rules.

The message is: these rules will apply to them. Not necessarily to us.

And it is precisely at that moment that a private contradiction ceases to be a source of amusement and begins to pose a problem for democracy.

PS: Yes, there are also ‘communists with Rolexes’. But literature is already full of them.