In European societies, the future is female - and right-wing?

If the interested citizen takes a look at Europe’s far-right movement, a few things are clear: It’s growing, it’s vocal, and it’s female.

Alice Weidel is the face of Germany’s far-right AfD. She regularly rails against migrants and asylum seekers, once claiming that “Afghans are the people with the highest crime rate.” At the same time, Weidel lives openly in a lesbian relationship with a woman born in Sri Lanka. However, she supports the principles of her party, which insist that the “true family” consists of a husband, wife, and children.

In France, Marine Le Pen is the most prominent female politician, having led the radical party Rassemblement National for over a decade. She is known for her frequent criticism of the European Union, her strict migration policies, and her Islamophobic claims about the “Islamization” of France. In March 2025, she, along with other party members, was convicted of embezzlement, having misappropriated over four million euros in European Parliament funds. She was sentenced to four years in prison and banned from holding political office for five years. What this means for her future political career remains uncertain.

Not without cause has Giorgia Meloni been named the most powerful woman of Europe - she is Italy’s first female prime minister, as well as Italy’s first far-right leader since the Second World War. In an interview from 1996, the then 19-year-old, called fascist leader Mussolini “a good politician”. Investigations into her Party Fratelli d’Italia showed ties to neo-nazis in their Milan branch, money laundering and nazi slogans and salutes in their youth organisation. While many feared the era of Meloni and a descent into fascism, her actual politics are more central: She continues the successful economic policies of her predecessor, Mario Draghi and stopped her critique of the EU in favour of a positive collaboration. However, her positions remain very conservative on social issues, particularly opposing queer parenthood and migration, while strongly supporting the traditional family picture.

What makes these women so powerful?

A part of the answer lies in culture and identity. From marianismo in Latin America—a cultural ideal derived from the veneration of the Virgin Mary that defines womanhood through moral virtue, humility, and self-sacrifice—to long-standing European notions of femininity rooted in domesticity and nurturance, women have been socialised to see themselves as caretakers, mothers, and moral anchors of society. Marianismo upholds the belief that a woman’s strength lies in her capacity for endurance and moral purity, reinforcing the idea that fulfilment is found in serving others rather than asserting autonomy. Although these expectations can be restrictive, they also provide a sense of continuity and belonging; for many women, adhering to such roles feels familiar, safe, and even empowering.

Postfeminist thinkers add another interpretive layer: the notion that gender equality has ostensibly been achieved reframes the performance of traditional roles as a matter of personal choice rather than social constraint. Judith Butler’s theory of gender performativity complicates this further, suggesting that gender is not a stable identity but a repeated social performance. Through these performances—consciously or not—women may reproduce the very norms that circumscribe their freedom.

Politics, in turn, does not operate independently of culture; it capitalises on it. Marine Le Pen’s rhetoric of national pride and family values resonates with women who experience dislocation amid rapid social and economic change. Giorgia Meloni, positioning herself as both a mother and a nationalist leader, embraces a traditionalist platform that opposes abortion and champions conservative family policies, yet continues to command considerable female support. Similarly, Alice Weidel of Germany’s AfD leads a party that promotes rigid gender roles while openly living in a same-sex partnership. These paradoxes illustrate how political messaging can be both strategic and contradictory, mobilising deeply embedded cultural narratives of identity, security, and belonging to secure women’s allegiance.

From liberation to lifestyle: how tradition slips back in

Over the past half-century, women’s legal and educational opportunities have significantly expanded, but in many places, mid-century “traditional family” ideals still influence caregiving and household stability. Since the 1990s, media and marketing have often framed staying home and caregiving as a personal choice and a way to “optimise” life. That framing allows older gender roles to continue without directly opposing equality, making tradition look more like a calming lifestyle than a rule.

Online, that lifestyle framing travels fast. A domestic idyll featuring slow routines, tidy homes, pale-wood toys and sourdough starters circulates as a template for well-being, promising calm and control. Not everyone embraces this ideal, but the pattern is visible across major platforms. Recent coverage has tracked the “tradwife” trend’s rise and commercialisation, while scholars of media culture argue that this imagery, frame of choice and self-optimisation can naturalise narrow expectations about women’s roles.

Uncertainty and the family order frame

Rising living costs, job insecurity, energy shocks, deepening political polarisation and nearby wars. In times of economic and political uncertainty, there is often a heightened call for „family order“, which is presented as a way of regaining control over everyday life. Policies often reflect this narrative, offering tax breaks and symbolic rewards for caregiving as incentives for having children. On the European right and far right, female front-figures often carry “family order” narratives, linking children and home care to claims about social or national stability.

German far-right party platforms place family and gender roles at the centre, while studies of Le Pen and Meloni show how gendered presentation can soften hardline policies and broaden appeal. However, birth rates in several European countries remain at or near historic lows. This suggests that practical constraints, such as access to affordable childcare and stable employment with predictable hours and flexible leave, are more significant than political rhetoric alone.

Constraints shape choices

On average, women perform more unpaid care, so they are often the ones who reduce their paid hours, move into more flexible and sometimes lower-paid jobs, or leave the labour market altogether. In contexts where equality is widely regarded as largely achieved, these shifts are often dismissed as personal preference rather than a response to constraints.

What does it mean for the future?

The implications are profound. Support for conservative gender roles among women challenges the assumption that feminism is universally desired or embraced. Economic uncertainty, cultural pressure, and social representation all play a part, creating a landscape where traditionalist values can thrive—even among those who might seem least expected to endorse them. It’s a reminder that identity politics are messy, personal, and often unpredictable.

Looking forward, this trend will shape debates about women’s rights for years to come. The rise of female leaders who promote conservative values highlights a tension between personal choice and collective progress. As societies grapple with questions of equality, autonomy, and cultural tradition, understanding why women sometimes uphold the very structures that constrain them is not just an academic exercise—it’s essential for anyone interested in the future of gender, politics, and power.