The horrific scenes in Slovakia following the assassination attempt on Prime Minister Robert Fico are a stark and brutal reminder of the dangers facing those who seek public office.
Fico, a pro-Russia left-wing populist, was recovering Thursday after being shot multiple times in the stomach. Government ministers closely aligned with the prime minister quickly called the shooting “politically motivated,” pointing the finger of blame for the toxic political atmosphere at the opposition and the media.
But Fico himself has been guilty of using emotive language in the past. He claimed the country’s outgoing progressive President Zuzana Čaputová was an “American agent” and accused her — without any proof — of acting in the interests of the US financier George Soros, a frequent target for conspiracy theories. Čaputová’s allies said the comments have led to death threats.
The issue is obviously not isolated to Slovakia. Politics across Europe and elsewhere have become bitterly divided over the past decade, with far-right and radical left-wing populists increasing their influence both in domestic politics and at a European level. Ongoing conflicts in Ukraine and Gaza have added to these tensions, as citizens look to their leaders to take a stand on highly contentious issues.
These tensions exist in the same space as a political system that obliges elected officials to meet and mix with the people who vote them into office.
The shooting came at a time of extreme political divisions over Slovakia’s position in the world and its future.
Fico is, and has always been, a highly divisive politician. His supporters see him as a caring leader who has their interests at heart. His opponents say he is a corrupt populist whose pro-Russian leanings pose major risks.
Fico’s comments prompted Čaputová to take legal action against Fico, suing him for defamation.
Despite being one of the most popular Slovakian politicians, Čaputová announced last year that she would be stepping down and would not run again. She specifically cited verbal attacks against her and her family as being among the reasons why she felt she “didn’t have enough strength” to serve for another term.
The assassination attempt against Fico came as his coalition government is trying to push through a number of divisive measures, sparking months of large-scale peaceful protests.
Fico’s attempts to overhaul the criminal justice system are particularly controversial. The government is seeking to reduce penalties for corruption and has abolished the special prosecutor’s office, which was tasked with investigating serious and politically sensitive corruption cases, including some that concerned people directly connected to Fico and his party, SMER.
The government is also trying to shut down the public service broadcaster RTVS, planning to replace it with a new national broadcaster, which would be under tighter control of the government. That plan has sparked large-scale protests in Slovakia.
Slovakia is not unique in its political divisions and move towards populism. Only this week, the Netherlands came one step closer to having a coalition government with a far-right party at its helm. In 2022, Giorgia Meloni became Italy’s prime minister after running on an anti-immigration, socially conservative ticket. While both these leaders are on the right and Fico is on the left, specific definitions between the left and right are becoming less helpful across Europe in the context of populism.
The swing towards populism is expected to play out in the European Parliamentary elections next month. Current polls suggest there will be enough far-right Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) that they will be able to block legislation.
Political division, emotive overseas conflicts, high levels of migration and struggling economies all add to a pressure cooker that makes it dangerous to be a politician these days.
Politicians are especially vulnerable to violent attacks for a few reasons. They are people whose position gives them a public platform that isn’t dissimilar to that of a minor celebrity.
Unlike minor celebrities, they are human representations of policies that people have extremely strong feelings about.
If a politician belongs to a party that won’t call for an immediate ceasefire between Israel and Hamas, they support genocide in the eyes of some voters. If a politician supported Covid lockdowns, they stripped people of their liberties, in some people’s thinking. If an elected representative wants to keep funding Ukraine rather than encourage talks with Russia, some will see them as a warmonger thwarting peace.
Politicians are also obliged to mix with the general public. In Britain, two sitting parliamentarians were murdered while holding meetings with the people they represented. In 2016, Jo Cox, a left-wing MP who had spoken in support of Syrian refugees, was killed by a far-right white supremacist. David Amess, a Conservative MP, was killed while meeting constituents at a church hall by an ISIS sympathiser.
The threat of violence can be felt by politicians far beyond’s Europe’s borders. Former Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe was shot dead in July 2022 as he gave a campaign speech. Last year, Ecuadorian presidential candidate Fernando Villavicencio – an anti-corruption campaigner and lawmaker – was shot dead during a campaign rally, 10 days before the first round of voting.
As long as they have these obligations to meet and mix, there is no amount of security that would completely remove this risk for politicians. Besides, limiting access to politicians could make the disconnect between the public and their elected representatives even worse.
Finally, if you are someone looking to make a political point through a public act of violence, then who better than the human representation of what you oppose? It may be horrible to admit that politically motivated violence against a politician is an effective way of gaining attention for your cause, but that is the calculation that those who carry out these attacks will make.
Attacking a random member of the public will not attract the media attention that attacking a politician will. Targeting someone with a public profile who actually represents something means that you can claim to be a political martyr rather than a simple murderer.
There are two obvious ways of reducing this risk: restricting access to politicians and obtaining better intelligence on potential attackers.
The first, while probably more effective, runs the risk of further alienating the public from their leaders. The second is time-consuming, requires increased investment in intelligence and security operations and results are not guaranteed.
The third, less obvious, way of improving the situation is to lower the temperature of political discourse.
In the days following the attack on Fico’s life, the public will likely hear politicians across Europe calling for civility in politics and condemning radicalism. Next month’s European elections and the discourse in the run-up to them will show how serious they are about calming political tensions.
