During 13 years in office, the Dutch prime minister, Mark Rutte, acquired the nickname “Teflon Mark” – a tribute to his ability to dodge the fallout from political scandals and forge new coalitions from the rubble of previous governments. It therefore seemed likely that Mr Rutte’s decision to precipitate a snap election last week was another example of the Netherlands’ longest-serving leader playing a canny game. Instead it turned out to be the endgame, as Mr Rutte unexpectedly announced on Monday that he intends to stand down.
What comes next is, to say the least, up in the air. Mr Rutte, a master deal-maker in a kaleidoscopic system currently comprising 20 parties, has dominated mainstream Dutch politics. His departure leaves a temporary void which more extreme forces will hope to fill. Post-pandemic, in the Netherlands as elsewhere, the challenges of the cost of living and energy crisis, rising global migration and the green transition have proved a boon for the radical right, whose influence is seeping into the mainstream.
The manner of Mr Rutte’s exit was a sign of those pressures. His four-party coalition collapsed after he chose to insist on draconian new asylum rules. But the government was already in serious trouble after provincial elections in March. Campaigning against government plans to reduce livestock herds to meet nitrogen emissions targets, the populist Farmer-Citizen party (BBB) won the popular vote and the most seats in the Dutch senate. It currently leads in national polls, with Mr Rutte’s liberal-conservative VVD party in second place.
In a country that is the second-biggest exporter of agricultural products by value behind the United States, the farmers’ cause touches a nerve, particularly in rural areas. But the far right has exploited the issue to seed conspiracy theories about “globalist” environmental plots to seize land, boost immigration and destroy traditional ways of life. For the past decade, Mr Rutte’s ability to forge consensus across the centre-ground – and an opportunistic willingness to tack right on issues such as immigration – kept a xenophobic, illiberal strain in Dutch politics in check. In his absence, that task may become harder.
More broadly, an unexpectedly turbulent political summer and autumn is now in store. Mr Rutte’s resignation means that four high-stakes European elections will take place before the end of the year. In Spain, a snap election later this month could see a radical right presence in government for the first time since the return to democracy. In Slovakia, a Putin-friendly party opposed to further military support for Ukraine leads in the polls. In Poland, the conservative-nationalist Law and Justice party is hopeful of a third successive victory this autumn.
Against that ominous backdrop, Mr Rutte’s departure carries a significance that goes beyond Dutch borders. An influential figure on the international stage, Mr Rutte was a veteran of the generation of socially liberal, fiscally conservative leaders who determined the European Union’s politics after the crash of 2008. The resulting austerity helped pave the way for the rise of populist parties, the scapegoating of migrants and a nationalist upsurge. To see off the radical right, a different approach to that adopted by Mr Rutte and like-minded allies is needed from mainstream parties; one that can deliver the investment and sense of ambition necessary to meet era-defining challenges.
