Democracy Under Strain: Lessons from the Italian Case.

From Italy as a testing ground for democratic infections to Europe’s institutional antibodies; what the fragility of modern democracies reveals about their survival.

Democracy can be seen through different lenses. Statistically, it resembles a space of probabilities; more pragmatically, it behaves like a living organism. It has its own rules, habits, structures, and connective tissue that allow it to function and survive. When everything operates as it should, democracy - like any healthy organism - appears destined for longevity. It evolves, slowly and subtly adapting to its environment, in an effort to persist. Changed, perhaps, but true to its original nature. There's nothing novel in this: it’s Darwinian evolution, applied to the collective experience of human societies.

Yet, like all living systems, democracy follows cycles: birth, maturity, and, potentially, decline. Within these natural phases, pathology can arise. Democracies, too, can come into contact with pathogens. Sometimes they resist, sometimes they succumb. The outcome depends on the strength of their immune system: the robustness of institutions, the checks and balances between legislative, executive, and judicial powers, and the ease with which each power respects the boundaries of the others.

The immune strength of a democracy is shaped by its historical exposure to such threats. A system that has previously encountered and survived political illness is more likely to recognize the early symptoms and respond effectively.

Once democracy enters a pathological state, however, it enters dangerous territory.

Europe, with its centuries, if not millennia, of history, serves as a unique case study, especially for younger, more impetuous democracies. In many European countries, especially Germany, Italy, and Spain, democratic antibodies are particularly potent. These are vigilant, tireless defenders of the collective organism, activated at the faintest hint of infection. Their strength is a direct consequence of the traumas of the early 20th century, when economic collapse incubated a political virus that ultimately destroyed democratic institutions. The painful reconstruction that followed gave rise to more resilient systems.

Even in the 21st century, Italy continues to play a prophetic role in testing the resilience of democratic life. The European sovereign debt crisis struck Italy with unique force; not just economically, but politically. It severely weakened the democratic fabric, accelerating the collapse of traditional parties that had governed through the 2000s. Economic hardship sharpened political consequences, paving the way for populism, which emerged as a visceral response to a discredited political class and the austerity measures that followed fiscal consolidation.

Betrayed in their wallets and purchasing power, voters looked for culprits among the old elites, while being seduced, often unconsciously, by promises of simple solutions. This is not “typically Italian”; it is a universal, deeply human reaction.

When a political class collapses, so does leadership. The electorate turns to new parties with clear, emotionally charged messages. The old guard is replaced by something younger, untested, and often less capable. Novelty may seem like a political asset, but if it is, its value depreciates fast.

If a major democracy fails to respond with immediate antibodies, such as regular alternation between moderate parties, then a more serious condition develops. Populist parties can rise quickly to power. This happened in Italy with the “Five Star Movement” and “LaLega”. These parties, positioned as radical alternatives to the traditional system, often encode distrust of institutions directly into their political DNA.

In the midst of economic distress, it’s easier to slide further into extremism (

). An external shock or the missteps of ill-equipped leaders can heighten voter frustration, polarizing the electorate and raising the risk of democratic collapse. This is quite uncontroversial. Italy, for instance, relied on public debt in the 1980s as a political anesthetic, soothing moderates and pulling votes back toward the center. In the 2010s, monetary policy played a similar role.

At critical moments, the strength of institutional safeguards becomes the true determinant of democratic resilience. In the face of the Eurozone crisis, countries like Italy, Spain, and Greece, despite being under immense political and economic pressure, revealed the depth of their democratic immune systems. What surfaced was not merely public resistance or electoral shifts, but a reactivation of core constitutional mechanisms: checks and balances, judicial independence, and the structural strength and resistance of liberal institutions. These second-line defenses, often silent and invisible, operated almost unconsciously, like antibodies embedded in the democratic DNA.

Though weakened, these democracies did not collapse. They endured precisely because the architecture of governance resisted the pull of disorder. Institutional friction, often criticized as inefficiency (and this is key – a cost which must be paid) proved to be a vital buffer against abrupt power grabs and populist overreach. As with any organism that survives a serious infection, their systems may have been tested, scarred, and ultimately strengthened. This endurance, however, should not be mistaken for inevitability. It was shaped by a combination of historical memory, institutional design, and, undoubtedly, a degree of luck. Italy, in particular, appears to have been one of the unexpected beneficiaries of recent democratic turbulence. Not only did it avoid institutional collapse during the Eurozone crisis, but, alongside Greece and Spain, it now seems positioned at the heart of a potential European democratic renaissance. In a striking turn, Fratelli d’Italia, once widely regarded as a sovereigntist and radical force, is undergoing a visible shift toward the political center. This transformation, whether strategic or structural, can be seen as part of Italy’s deep-rooted tradition: a long history of moderate governance that, despite its flaws, has anchored the country through repeated crises. In a way, Fratelli d’Italia may now represent not a rupture with the past, but the evolution of it; a modern heir to the cautious pragmatism that has historically defined Italian politics at the highest levels.

Which raises a natural question: What is the current health status of other major democracies; namely the United States, France, and Germany?

Germany seems well-equipped, immunized by a long history of introspection. France, too, perhaps bolstered by its revolutionary legacy, shows signs of strong democratic reflexes. The United States, however, appears more vulnerable. It’s a younger system, facing its first serious internal stress test. And it may lack the tools, especially fiscal ones, that previously helped stabilize other democracies.

This doesn’t mean American democracy is necessarily changing, but it is exposed.