Pâté, Purges, and Absolute Power: The New Architecture of Political Fear

Architects of the New Discipline. European politics split into two unequal parts this weekend. On one side, we observe leaders gasping for air in the fumes of PR blunders; on the other, political architects who, in the silence of their offices, are rebuilding the foundations of their parties in an authoritarian fashion. Sławomir Mentzen, leader of the Polish free-market right, wastes no time on pleasantries. The merger of his group, New Hope, with a party significantly named The Empire Strikes Back, became a pretext for introducing a statute that, in a democratic context, sounds like an anomaly. This document grants the chairman the right to unilaterally admit members, bypassing procedures, and—crucially—to immediately expel them without the right of appeal.

These decisions, as reported by „Rzeczpospolita”, take effect on the day of issuance. There is no room here for a party court, debate, or conventions. This is a direct reaction to administrative errors from March 2025, when the failure to submit a financial report resulted in the party being struck from the register in November. Mentzen, standing on the precipice of delegalization, chose to flee forward: he created a structure where he himself is the law, the judge, and the executioner. This is a level of control that—as analysts note—not even Jarosław Kaczyński or Donald Tusk possess.

A similar mechanism, though in a different setting, was triggered in Madrid by Isabel Díaz Ayuso. The regional president carried out a lightning „reorganization,” which in practice means the political execution of her internal opponents. The resignation of Education Minister Emilio Viciana and the removal of the group known as „Los Pocholos” is a signal that loyalty has become the only currency in the People's Party (PP). Ayuso, like Mentzen, does not play at negotiations. She is strengthening the „project” by filling key positions in the Madrid Assembly with people like Alfonso Serrano, who guarantee silence in the ranks.

„No es una crisis, sino una reorganización para fortalecer el proyecto que los madrileños eligieron por mayoría.” (This is not a crisis, but a reorganization aimed at strengthening the project that the people of Madrid chose by a majority vote.) — Isabel Díaz Ayuso

The mechanism is identical: in the face of a threat (whether legal in Poland or factional in Spain), right-wing leaders opt for the „atomic option.” They eliminate safeguards, remove brakes, and centralize power to a level that makes any internal course correction impossible. The Theater of Impotence and French Pâté. At the antipodes of this cynical pragmatism, we see politicians who have tripped over their own feet. In Germany, Andreas Stoch, the leading SPD candidate in Baden-Württemberg, became the face of an image catastrophe. A visit to the Tafel food bank in Bühl, followed by a discussion about purchasing exquisite pâté in France, exposed the rift between the elite and the electorate.

The camera captured the moment the social democrat instructs his driver to buy delicacies whose quality in Germany is „insufficient.” It is a scene straight out of a satire, but its consequences are real just days before the elections scheduled for March 8. Stoch had to publicly do penance at a meeting with „Badische Neueste Nachrichten”, explaining that it was liverwurst (Leberwurst), not luxury duck. His words, however, sound like a desperate defense.

„Ich bin da in einen Fettnapf marschiert” (I marched straight into a trap/blunder there.) — Andreas Stoch

In the UK, Prime Minister Keir Starmer is also fighting the elements, literally and figuratively. His personal involvement in the by-election campaign in the Gorton and Denton constituencies in Manchester is an act of desperation. The Prime Minister of Her Majesty's Government rarely wades through the rain fighting for votes in local elections unless the ground is burning beneath his feet. The threat is twofold: the Green Party from the left, and Reform UK led by Nigel Farage from the right.

Reuters reports directly: support for the Labour Party is „evaporating” in its historical stronghold. Starmer, unlike Mentzen or Ayuso, cannot change the statute to remove the competition. He must beg for votes in the Longsight and Levenshulme districts, knowing that a defeat on Thursday could shake his cabinet. This is a picture of the weakness of a system that requires a leader to constantly reconfirm legitimacy, while his colleagues on the continent simply decree their position. The State Takes on the Role of a Troll. When politicians cannot control their own parties or voters, they reach for surveillance tools. The German federal government, represented by Minister Nancy Faeser, has officially sanctioned the creation of fake social media accounts by the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV). The services pose as citizens to infiltrate extremist groups.

MP Martina Renner of Die Linke rightly points out that this undermines trust in the digital space. The state becomes an actor that lies systematically to defend the „truth.” This is the paradox of modern liberal democracy: in defending against disinformation (e.g., Russian), it resorts to disinformation methods itself. The government claims it is a „necessary tool,” but the lack of data on the scale of the operation—the number of accounts or the budget—suggests we are dealing with a gray zone of state activity.

These practices are part of a broader trend observed since 2013, when Edward Snowden's revelations exposed the scale of NSA surveillance. At that time, Europe, including Germany, expressed outrage. Today, a decade later and in the face of war in the East, Berlin is legalizing methods it once condemned, shifting the boundary between security and privacy.

The common denominator of these events is the fear of losing control. Sławomir Mentzen fears losing his party due to accounting errors, so he turns it into an absolute monarchy. Isabel Díaz Ayuso fears factionalism, so she carries out purges. Keir Starmer fears losing his social mandate, so he personally intervenes in a local constituency. And the German state fears radicals, so it puts on a mask online.

One could argue that the actions of Mentzen or Ayuso are simply professionalization and „tightening” of structures in difficult times. That strong leadership requires sacrifices, and internal party democracy is a luxury no one can afford in an era of polarization. That Nigel Farage is lurking for every mistake, so the ranks must be closed. However, history teaches that structures without safety valves do not evolve—they crack under pressure.

Mentzen, by eliminating appeal procedures, creates a party that will have no self-correction mechanism during its first serious crisis. A leader's mistake will become a fatal mistake for the entire formation. This is high-stakes gambling in which the „Empire” may not have a chance for any counterattack.

Gorton and Denton or BfV are just points on a map, but the line connecting them draws a picture of politics under siege. Leaders no longer manage hope, but risk. And in this management, some choose the path of humiliating apologies for pâté, while others choose the path of ruthless force that ensures no one dares to ask what they had for lunch.