Ever since the Global Financial Crisis rocked the world in 2008, populism has been a staple of politics in the democratic world. From the US to Europe to Latin America, demagogues ran rampant, thriving off of the division and economic misery engendered by the GFC. In fact, before the coronavirus pandemic, populism was on the upswing. In America, President Donald Trump was cruising more or less toward reelection; Boris Johnson had won a resounding electoral victory in the UK; and Europe’s populist parties—such as Vox in Spain and AfD in Germany—seemed ingrained in the continent’s parliaments. But with Covid-19 illustrating the need for effective national leadership during a crisis, the populist movement’s ascendency may be over. A new question thus arises: Will Covid-19 kill populism?

There is no universal definition of populism, which brings some difficulties when trying to evaluate the fate of the so-called “populist movement.” While liberalism, socialism, and conservatism all have established intellectual and political traditions, populism lacks any dominant current. But it is this very anti-intellectualism that is often its main characteristic, along with a preference for passion over facts, emotion over reason, and drama over nuance. Steve Bannon, President Trump’s former White House Chief Strategist (who was recently arrested for fraud), introduced some semblance of common ideology to populism, albeit bordering on conspiratorial nonsense. He regularly referred to a “populist movement” of nationalist leaders from Europe and the Americas in opposition to the “Party of Davos”, the liberal coalition of mainstream politicians, financiers, and global businessmen seeking to promote globalization and free trade to the alleged detriment of their native countries. With these characteristics, we may judge a significant portion of the democratic world’s politicians as “populists”. Examples include the aforementioned Donald Trump and Boris Johnson, but also lesser-known figures, such as Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro and Hungary’s Viktor Orban.

For years the “populist movement”, as Bannon puts it, was on the upswing. As mentioned previously, support for such politicians in the Americas and Europe was looking stronger than ever: Trumpian protectionism was starting to replace free-trade doctrine in America; Boris Johnson had succeeded in convincing the British people to abandon their commercial and political alliance with the EU by “getting Brexit done”; and leaders such as Viktor Orban proudly proclaimed the superiority of “illiberal democracy” over the mainstream social and economic liberalism dominant in the West since the downfall of the USSR. Moreover, this new populism had succeeded where other anti-elitist movements had failed—it started looking like a part of the mainstream. Establishment bastions such as the GOP and the Conservative Party in the UK lost their conservatism to reactionary politics. Far-right nationalist parties rooted themselves in Europe’s parliaments and gained seats in the double digits. Indeed, what had seemed to be a reaction to the political order of the pre-2008 world was looking like a rising orthodoxy.

The arrival of Covid-19 may change all this. Usually, crises tend to invigorate, not undermine, populists. Demagogues thrive on conflict—and conflict is never more present than in a crisis. When the Great Depression hit Europe in the 1930s, demagoguery in Italy and Germany gave rise to Fascism and the Nazi regime as well as radical socialist movements. The same populist backlash happened after the GFC, the last worldwide social and economic calamity. But Covid-19 has created a different sort of crisis. The Great Depression and the GFC were the results of speculation and market folly; an inadequate government response in the first case and the bailing out of big banks in the second only added fuel to the populists’ anger at the so-called establishment’s incompetence. In the case of Covid-19, however, centrist politicians managed quite well, negating the worst effect of the disease on the economy and society. Germany’s chancellor, Angela Merkel, implemented an early quarantine, stifling the virus’s growth. (Today, Germany has one of the lowest figures of deaths and cases per person in the world.) Further, her government skillfully deployed the country’s furlough program, the Kurzabeit, to safeguard jobs; unemployment in Germany today is around 6.4%, much lower than America’s 10.2%, as a comparison. Other success stories so far include South Korea, where President Moon Jae-in and his government efficiently utilized contact-tracing technology to identify and quarantine the sick in the early stages of the pandemic. New Zealand, led by prime minister Jacinda Ardern, has almost no new case rises. While practically no country emerged unscathed after the 2008 Financial Crisis, there are myriad examples of sound governing to be found during the coronavirus pandemic. In fact, most countries that currently grapple with the virus are precisely ones weakened by the strife and division populists thrive off.

Take the example of America. The United States has long prided itself as a model of good government. It has led the world through countless crises—including the Ebola epidemic of 2014-2016. Yet the Covid-19 pandemic broke the American government, especially the executive branch, whose response to the various issues brought on by the virus was wholly inadequate for the task at hand. While other countries stressed the importance of science and public unity, Donald Trump immediately declared the disease a “hoax” contrived by Democrats seeking to undermine his reelection. When the first states ravaged by the virus, such as New York and Massachusetts, were begging for PPE, instead of mobilizing the federal government’s vast resources to supply the necessary equipment he chose to play them against each other, increasing costs and delaying the arrival of vital medical gear in the midst of a pandemic no less. His slow response toward testing set the US back weeks compared to other countries with effective testing regimes, such as Germany and South Korea. And his dogmatic insistence that America should reopen its economy as soon as possible influenced governors in hotbed states to open bars, restaurants, and other public spaces even as the virus was not yet under control. Because of constant policy and leadership failures, the United States leads the world in total coronavirus cases and deaths—with the two showing almost no end in sight.

None of this should be particularly surprising. Donald Trump’s response during the Covid-19 crisis largely reflects his populist politics: demonize opponents (the so-called “Radical Left”, i.e. the Democrats); shift blame (here toward China and the WHO); and insist that, despite statistics, science, and common sense, everything is totally fine and the virus will eventually magically disappear. His approach is echoed by leaders such as Brazil’s Jair Bolsonaro, president of the world’s second most infected country, who was even diagnosed with Covid-19 last month. Yet despite an outward show of aloofness, the two leaders’ popularity has suffered since the outbreak. Indeed, Trump has tried to boost his dismal popularity ratings by invoking an alternative reality in which he managed to successfully eradicate Covid-19, and Bolsonaro has only salvaged his good graces with the public through cash bailouts. The same story goes for Boris Johnson who, despite benefitting from an initial boost of popularity, now muddles on with only around 30% of the nation supporting his handling of the virus in most polls. On the other hand, surveys generally indicate strong public support for heads of state such as Jacinda Ardern, Angela Merkel, and Moon Jae-in —all leaders who successfully managed the crisis. The decrease in popularity for populist leaders and the increase among more establishment politicians perhaps demonstrates the public’s yearning for sensible government instead of divisive politics. Coupled with the pandemic’s supercharging of previous issues plaguing the rich world—such as income inequality and tepid wage growth—the Covid-19 crisis may signal the end of the populist era. A new sense of urgency, along with the failure of populist politicians to handle a real crisis, could motivate some to seek more establishment candidates with a proven record.

Of course, the pendulum might shift the other way. The downturn caused by quarantine could inflame politics instead of empowering moderate politicians. The dramatic exposure of income and racial inequality, especially in the US, may invigorate right-wing and left-wing radicals. And perhaps countries successful so far in handling Covid-19 will struggle when faced with a second wave and a lingering recession. But despite these possible scenarios, signs of a weakening populist movement remain; populist politicians around the world face declining popularity in polls, and the public seems to have realized that inflaming fake crises does not equate to thoughtful leadership in a real one. Upcoming elections will determine the fate of this hypothesis. The American election this November will be of particular interest. So will Germany’s federal election in 2021, and Brazil’s in 2022. Also look out for France’s 2022 presidential race, where the centrist Emmanuel Macron will probably face-off with the nationalist Marine Le Pen. The coronavirus crisis has already made history. The demise of today’s populism might be another one of its monumental consequences.