The sigh of relief breathed by many after the defeat of the FPÖ in the Austrian presidential election, the underperformance of Geert Wilders’ PVV in the Netherlands, and the post-election organisational implosion of Le Pen’s Front National appears to have been cut short by the AfD’s performance in the German election, the adoption of right-wing populist rhetoric by the ÖPP in Austria during their latest victory, and the ascendancy of a billionaire to the top of Czech politics.

With the arrival of these new forces in the European parliaments, many are left wondering about the future of far-right parties. Will they last? Will they grow? Will they govern?

The answer to most of these questions can be found further north, in Scandinavia. Across the region, the main centre-left parties continue to be the largest, but have experienced a decline in terms of the number of seats in parliament in Denmark, Norway, and Sweden.

“Their path, whether to success or failure, is not predetermined”

In their places, right-wing parties have risen to be a regular feature of politics in the region. Often beginning as a small party filled with disgruntled members of the traditional centre-right, they have become a political force of their own. While all three nations are more alike than different, the separate approaches by their respective right-wing nationalist parties each lends a clue to the AfD’s viability. Their path, whether to success or to failure, is not predetermined.

In Denmark, the Danish People’s Party (DF) has catapulted to the forefront of the political landscape these past twenty years. Through a mixture of anti-immigration stances, a rejection of multiculturalism, and Euroscepticism, the DF succeeded in reorienting the national debate to result in a new and broader consensus, which now includes the centre-left; the leader of the Social Democrats endorsed DF’s proposal to ban prayer rooms in school and universities.

Naturalisation in Denmark has sunk from 19,323 per annum in the year 2000 to a mere 4,498 in 2015, largely due to restrictive immigration laws. The secret ingredient? Not governing. Despite having becoming the largest right-wing party in the country, they chose instead to support a minority government led by the traditional centre-right party Venstre (which, confusingly, means ‘left’ in Danish). As a result, the DF has managed to implement their politics without ever needing a minister of their own.

“If they are opposed, they remain. If they don’t govern, they remain. If they do govern, they remain. Where does this leave us?”

In Sweden, the Sweden Democrats (SD) have succeeded in blaming both the government, as well as the rest of the opposition, for the country’s woes. With a high chance of becoming the second-biggest party after this year’s election, SD will likely find itself in the position to be the kingmaker should the centre-right and centre-left blocks struggle to garner an outright majority.

By widening their focus away from the EU and migration, SD has also been able to engage voters on a variety of issues ranging from elderly care to education to defence, thus broadening its appeal. So far, the main opposition has not tackled these key questions effectively, thereby paving the way for a second opposition to grow. Instead of eschewing governing, DF’s Norwegian sister party, the Progress Party (FkP), has embraced it.

After its inclusion in the right-wing coalition in 2013 as a junior member, FkP succeeded in claiming key cabinet positions and gaining control of the ministries responsible for finance, petroleum, and notably, migration and integration. Theirs was not an overnight success story. Rather, it was the result of a normalisation process that stretched out over decades.

If they are opposed, they remain. If they don’t govern, they remain. If they do govern, they remain. Where does this leave us? If one wishes to oppose them, one ought to tackle the root causes. Parties like DF not only advocate stricter immigration but also some level of wealth redistribution. The gradual abandonment of various components of the welfare state by both the centre-right and the centre-left, particularly in the years after the Cold War, has left a segment of the population looking for the old working-class protection that the social democrats of the sixties had offered but since left behind.

By tackling core issues, such as chronic housing shortages, unemployment, and ever-shrinking welfare provisions (often disguised in the rhetoric of combatting foreigners abusing social services while simultaneously impacting citizens), the basis for the electoral support of these parties can be eroded.

The rhetoric used by these parties on issues like burqa bans, recently pushed for in Denmark and Austria, do not solve the underlying issues – only around 200 women wear face covering Islamic garments in Denmark – but push them to to the foreground by a successful combination of appealing to economic issues as well as cultural anxiety. Solve the former and the latter is easier to discuss rationally.