Author
Tinatin Japaridze
Eurasia Group
Nostalgia may be an illusion, but it has become an integral part of global culture. Even as trends go in and out of fashion and advances in digital technology continue to change the world, nostalgia maintains its constant presence in society, revealing the multilayered nature of cultural sentiments and collective memory. Not surprisingly, nostalgia also plays a significant role in political discourse, often used—and even exploited—by politicians to invoke memories of “better times,” whether real or imagined.
However, this otherwise seemingly benign lens can be detrimental due to its regressive nature. Populist leaders around the world frequently employ nostalgic rhetoric to highlight their country’s past greatness for their own political gain. The belief that the past was superior to the present and that the only path forward is to revert to earlier times poses a tangible risk of national decline. By politicizing nostalgia, politicians sow seeds of fantasy among their citizens—visions that may never reach the hoped-for fruition.
A conventional starting point is the derivation of the English word “nostalgia” from Greek words nos-tos meaning “return” and algos “pain.” Viewed in the modern-day context, it becomes a metaphorical “longing for a home that no longer exists” or, worse yet, one that never even existed. Sociologists Georg Stauth and Bryan S. Turner, in their work Nietzsche’s Dance, define nostalgia as a longing for a “golden age of heroic virtue, moral coherence, and ethical certainty—a time when there was no disparity between virtue and action, words and reality, or function and being.” The acute danger of this sentiment is that it can confuse and conflate one’s actual home with an imaginary one, thus creating a phantom of a past.
Putin’s Imagined Soviet Past
The late American scholar of Russian descent and the author of The Future of Nostalgia, Svetlana Boym, observed in 2007 that “the twentieth century began with utopia and ended with nostalgia.” In the turbulent first decade following the collapse of the Soviet Union, initial optimism and euphoria of the “Wild ‘90s” gave way to nostalgia for the “Soviet golden era” of stability and greatness of the superpower. This phenomenon emerged and began to spread like a virus across the post-Soviet space, creating a divide between external (political and economic) and internal (moral) uncertainties, further distancing its former republics from the post-socialist reality. It evolved into both a unifying force and a conceptual category for the disparate legacies and remnants of the post-revolutionary void.
Millions of Russians (and a number of members of other nationalities) who had come of age at the time of the demise of the USSR found themselves displaced from their place of birth, figuratively and geographically, living in voluntary or involuntary exile. The unrealized hopes and dreams of the late Soviet era and the rediscovery of their place in the new world order produced a fragmented identity that many still continue to reclaim and recreate on the ashes of the collapsed empire. While ethically this type of nostalgia risks overlooking or justifying past Soviet atrocities, it has also served as a coping mechanism for economic and social instability, fostering unity and cultural continuity.
For Vladimir Putin, who has at various times of crisis turned to nostalgia as a political tool for societal manipulation and control, the longing for Soviet greatness is directly intertwined with Russian identity and national pride. In Putin’s Russia, the greatness and stability of the nation are often tied to the Great Patriotic War (the Kremlin’s preferred term for World War II) as a unifying idea, legitimizing a political regime rooted in authoritarianism rather than democracy. Today, Putin increasingly links this sense of past glory to Russia’s war in Ukraine, termed by the Kremlin a “Special Military Operation.”
Strategic Nostalgia Behind the MAGA Movement
The events of the past several decades have shown that nostalgia in the modern geopolitical context is not an exclusively Russian or Soviet invention. Far from it, in fact, as nostalgia continues to be used as a political tool in the West as well. On this side of the ocean, it has been effectively conceptualized and defined in the development of Donald Trump’s “Make America Great Again” movement—captured in the acronym “MAGA.” The very premise of the movement taps into nostalgia for a perceived era of American “greatness” in the “good old days,” sparking pride and longing but obscuring realities like racial injustice and inequality.
During his 2016 campaign, then-presidential candidate Trump adopted former president Ronald Reagan’s 1980 pitch “Let’s Make America Great Again,” emphasizing the perceived decline of U.S. status on the global stage. (Trump later reused various versions of this slogan in both 2020 and 2024, periodically referring to the vague and distant American past when things were “better, simpler, and safer.”) The nostalgia for Reagan’s era, who in his own right also masterfully used nostalgic appeals in his campaigns, represents an idealized past—one that many of his supporters yearn to bring back through a figure of Trump who both lived through and personifies that time.
Now, in his second tenure, President Trump is harkening back to an even earlier era, contending that the United States was at its peak during the Gilded Age of the late 19th and early 20th centuries—a period marked by rapid population growth and the nation’s shift from an agricultural society to a vast industrial powerhouse. His emphasis on reviving this era is at least partly reflected in his enthusiasm for tariffs and economic nationalism. Historians note, though, that he overlooks the significant challenges of the time, including widespread corruption in government and business, deep social unrest, and growing inequality.
Throughout his election campaigns and presidential tenures, journalists, academics and social psychologists alike have made numerous attempts to analyze the MAGA movement’s appeal to tens of millions of American voters. Some have suggested his nostalgic rhetoric resonates with those concerned about economic welfare or perceived threats to racial and cultural homogeneity.
However, his appeal extends far beyond those longing for a stronger economy or a more stable society. Certain elements of it also reach back to a time before the Civil Rights Movement and tap into a longing for a time in America when women and minorities held less influence. (Relatedly, it is ironic that if nostalgia thrives on memories of an imaginary past, this posits that America might not have been as predominantly white as some might “remember.”)
The material allure of the Reagan era’s deregulation and the “greed is good” ethos also plays a significant role in its lasting appeal to this day irrespective of the generation. Both young and older MAGA supporters frequently idealize that decade, even though it signaled the onset of their own economic difficulties. Reagan won the 1980 election by a substantial margin promising to restore the country’s economic prosperity, but a 16-month recession began just months after his inauguration in 1981, with the economy falling sharply and manufacturing decline affecting the working-class suburbs.
Contrary to the common misconception that intense nostalgia is only characteristic of Baby Boomers, the sentiment is not only potent for the older generation and its effect does not always diminish with age. In fact, many young people yearn for eras they never personally experienced. Instead, they rely on the highly malleable personal historical narratives of older Americans, such as the Boomers, to color their nostalgia for the hazy golden snapshots from the past.
This indicates that younger generations can be persuaded by nostalgic rhetoric as well, which can apply both to the Russian and American youths. But in strong contrast with Vladimir Putin’s collective nostalgia for Russia’s (and later Soviet) Imperial greatness, Trump’s version of America leans towards a personalized nostalgia centered on individual material success—something that remains frustratingly out of reach for many across different ages within the MAGA movement.
The Perils of Living in the Imaginary Past
On the surface, there is seemingly nothing wrong with nostalgia as a natural emotion. However, it is important to maintain an ethical balance that recognizes the positive elements of national history and identity while also holding past empires accountable for their wrongdoings. The inherent belief at the core of nostalgia that the past was superior to the present (even if it undeniably had some positive aspects), and that the only way towards progress is an imminent return to the olden days, poses a significant threat capable of leading to national decline. Besides, attempting to turn back the clock would not necessarily improve conditions.
The powerful narratives crafted by political “nostalgists” can instead hinder society’s capacity to envision a future that builds on present realities. We then find ourselves retreating to the comforting, yet often illusory, embrace of a past that never truly existed and the darkness of an uncertain future. Political discourse becomes filled with forecasts of imminent crises, ranging from financial collapse and climate disasters to cultural breakdown, democratic erosion, and geopolitical turmoil. Few are able to perceive the future as a continuation of the present—something we are responsible for and need to actively shape. Consequently, this makes us more susceptible to manipulation and exploitation for political advantage.
When nostalgia is politicized, it instills a sense of fantasy among the population, a dream that may never lead to the desired flourishing promised by political leaders. Instead, a nuanced approach can foster honest and constructive dialogue about national identity and history. By understanding nostalgia’s ethical implications, policymakers and leaders can more effectively address underlying issues, like economic instability and social division, while promoting reconciliation and healing from past grievances.
Tinatin Japaridze is a geopolitical risk analyst at Eurasia Group. She was a Student Ambassador at Carnegie Council in 2019-2020 and is the author of Stalin’s Millennials: Nostalgia, Trauma, and Nationalism.
Carnegie Council for Ethics in International Affairs is an independent and nonpartisan nonprofit. The views expressed within this article are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the position of Carnegie Council.
