The Psychology of the Political Enemy: Manufacturing Enemies, Dividing Citizens

How leaders turn opponents into threats — and what that costs a democracy

Every democratic society has disagreements. Differences of opinion, ideology, and policy are a natural part of political life. Yet there is an important difference between having a political adversary and constructing an enemy. Political psychology calls this phenomenon the psychology of the political enemy: a process through which a group stops perceiving those who think differently as citizens with different ideas and begins to see them as a threat to the nation, its values, or the collective well-being. When that happens, debate loses ground and confrontation takes its place.

This process does not arise spontaneously. Social psychology has shown that people tend to divide the world into “us” and “them,” favoring those they consider part of their group and distrusting those they perceive as outsiders. Political leaders know this mechanism and, at times, use it to strengthen the identity of their followers. By presenting a group as responsible for the country’s problems, a complex reality is simplified and an emotionally appealing explanation is offered: if an enemy exists, then so does someone who promises to defeat it.

This is the context in which nonexistent or exaggerated public enemies appear. It does not mean that disagreements or conflicts are not real, but that certain people, institutions, or social sectors are presented as solely responsible for every ill. Intellectuals, journalists, judges, business leaders, civil society organizations, or even citizens who voice different opinions can become symbols of a supposed danger to society. Complexity disappears, replaced by a simple narrative: “they are the problem.”

Why is this strategy so useful to a government or a political movement? Because the existence of an enemy generates internal cohesion. When people feel they face a common threat, they tend to close ranks around the leadership, internal criticism diminishes, and the willingness to justify extraordinary measures grows. Moreover, focusing attention on an enemy diverts debate away from structural problems, management failures, or insufficient results. Instead of asking how to solve public challenges, the conversation revolves around who should be singled out as the culprit.

The risk is that, over time, perception replaces evidence. When an enemy is constructed from repeated speeches rather than verifiable facts, society may begin to accept restrictions on rights, permanent disqualification, or acts of exclusion against people who simply think differently. Suspicion becomes the norm, and dialogue a sign of weakness. In that environment, any criticism can be read as betrayal and any difference as a threat.

History shows that the construction of public enemies has been used by governments of different ideologies and in different historical moments. It is not the exclusive practice of one country or one political current. Whenever a leadership needs to strengthen the cohesion of its followers, justify exceptional measures, or explain complex problems through a single culprit, the temptation to manufacture an enemy appears. Psychology explains why this rhetoric is so effective: people prefer simple stories, with clearly identified heroes and villains, over accepting that public problems usually have multiple causes and difficult solutions.

That is why the best defense of a democracy lies not only in electing good leaders, but in developing citizens capable of distinguishing between a legitimate adversary and a politically constructed enemy. A society that stops questioning these narratives risks losing its capacity to debate, cooperate, and recognize the plurality that characterizes any democratic system. When fear replaces reason, politics ceases to be a space for resolving differences and becomes a permanent battlefield.

Perhaps the most important question is not who the supposed enemy presented to us each day is, but who benefits from our believing in its existence. History teaches that the freest societies are not those where everyone thinks alike, but those where it is possible to dissent without being branded a threat. Turning the other into an enemy may yield immediate political gains, but it also erodes trust, tears the social fabric, and hinders the agreements indispensable for confronting our real collective problems.

Before accepting that a group, an institution, or a person is the source of every ill, it is worth pausing to ask ourselves: am I reacting to verifiable facts or to an emotional narrative? Who wins when I stop seeing a fellow citizen as an adversary and begin to see them as an enemy? Could a democracy survive if we all came to believe that those who think differently deserve to be excluded rather than heard?