Despite his controversial reputation, Wilders expressed a clear desire to govern, a significant departure from his historically oppositional role. Coalition talks began between PVV, the center-right VVD (Mark Rutte’s former party, now led by Dilan Yeşilgöz, the farmer-citizen movement De BoerBurgerBeweging (BBB), led by Caroline van der Plas, and the centrist New Social Contract (NSC) led by Pieter Omtzigt. His retreat raises deeper questions about political responsibility, media control, and how populist leaders leverage power by relinquishing it.

Tensions escalated over how to reconcile Wilders’ radical platform with the demands of more moderate parties, particularly NSC’s emphasis on constitutional safeguards. Wilders’ move is less about chaos and more a strategic act of narrative control, echoing past behavior and reshaping the Netherlands’ position within a turbulent EU.

On the surface, Wilders’ decision to step out of the cabinet appears to be driven by policy disagreements and inter-party friction. One of the most contentious issues was migration policy. Wilders has long advocated for sweeping anti-immigration measures, including closing borders to asylum seekers and introducing constitutional reforms to prioritize Dutch identity. In the end, these disagreements made it increasingly clear that any government involving the PVV would require significant compromises, ones Wilders appeared unwilling to make without threatening his political identity.

This decision reflects sharp audience calibration. Wilders understands that his appeal lies not in pragmatism, but in his purity as an outsider. In his view, he is unafraid to name and shame the political elite, and defend “the Dutch identity”. By refusing to govern under diluted terms, he sends a clear message to PVV voters: I didn’t sell out. They shut me out.

This allows him to remain central in the political conversation without assuming the political responsibility of forming or running a government. In a polarized media landscape, provocation often gets more airtime than policy work, and Wilders knows this well. In essence, his withdrawal is less a retreat and more a strategic broadcast: a message of consistency, loyalty to his base, and disdain for politics-as-usual: all delivered without the burden of governance.

The strength of his brand lies in his outsider identity, and even when granted a pathway into power, he maintains the optics of marginalization. By refusing to govern under compromise, Wilders keeps the PVV ideologically and rhetorically at the fringe, even if electorally it is now mainstream. He does not moderate to broaden appeal, he doubles down to preserve it. This tactic protects the PVV from the political wear-and-tear that typically affects governing parties: disappointment, accountability, and ideological dilution.

One of the most effective tools in Wilders’ communication arsenal is his ability to own the narrative, regardless of political outcome. His recent withdrawal from coalition talks follows a familiar and strategic pattern: positioning himself as the only truly consistent Dutch politician. This is someone unwavering in his beliefs, unwilling to bend to the norms of “the system.”

Crucially, this tactic allows Wilders to adopt a form of political martyrdom: “I was ready to govern, but the system rejected me.” This message plays exceptionally well with his base, who often view Dutch institutions, courts, and coalition politics as inherently stacked against change. It also absolves Wilders of blame. By claiming he was willing to participate but was pushed out or constrained, he redirects responsibility back to the establishment, reinforcing the belief that the political system is fundamentally broken and only he has the courage to fix it. In doing so, Wilders turns political failure into communicative success. 

Wilders’ recent withdrawal from coalition formation is not unprecedented, it echoes his pivotal role in the collapse of Mark Rutte’s first cabinet in 2012, where he employed strikingly similar communication tactics to those seen today. In April 2012, Wilders abruptly pulled PVV support from the minority VVD-CDA coalition over disagreements on EU-mandated budget cuts during the eurozone crisis. Rather than staying at the table to negotiate unpopular austerity measures, Wilders walked away just before major decisions were due, preserving his image as a defender of ordinary citizens against elite-imposed sacrifices.

Much like in 2025, he blamed “the elite” for betraying voters, then over EU-imposed budget rules, now over the refusal to implement his hardline migration and judicial policies. In both instances, Wilders framed his exit not as failure, but as proof of integrity: he was willing to lead, but refused to betray his principles.

Following his 2012 exit, Wilders immediately pivoted back into full-throttle oppositional populism. His rhetoric became sharper, nationalistic, and emotionally charged, attacking EU bureaucrats, political elites, and the “cowardice” of Dutch mainstream parties. The same pattern is emerging now, with Wilders already returning to social media and interviews to signal that he tried to bring change, but was once again blocked by an “unwilling system.”This cycle allows Wilders to test the waters of power while preserving the clarity of protest, keeping him electorally potent while others bear the cost of compromise.

In both 2012 and 2025, Wilders isn’t just shaping policy, he’s shaping the story around policy. And in that narrative, he is always the one who stood firm while others folded. One key difference between Wilders’ 2012 and 2025 strategies lies in the media ecosystem in which they played out. In 2012, Wilders’ message had to pass through traditional gatekeepers: newspapers, talk shows, press conferences. Today, he operates in a social media–first environment, where the message is not only unfiltered, but algorithmically amplified.

Platforms like X, Facebook, and TikTok allow Wilders to speak directly to his base, bypassing journalists and debate moderators entirely. His withdrawal from the 2025 coalition talks was announced and framed by his own tweets and social posts before legacy media could shape the story. This gives him first-mover advantage in narrative control.

Wilders has also become more visually and linguistically agile, embracing the mechanics of digital virality. He shares short video clips, emotional soundbites, and even memetic content that travels fast across social feeds. His posts routinely include images of the Dutch flag, nationalist slogans, and inflammatory phrases condensed into tweet-length blame shifts.

Where traditional politicians speak in policy nuance, Wilders speaks in slogans and sentiment. And in an attention economy, that makes his voice louder, even from outside of power. His ability to frame exclusion as martyrdom, and coalition partners as cowards, plays better in short-form than in parliamentary debate. Every withdrawal becomes a campaign; every refusal, a rallying cry. In short, the evolved media landscape doesn’t just support Wilders, it amplifies him.

Across Europe, populist leaders face a strategic dilemma: governing requires compromise, which can dilute their anti-system brand. This tension is evident in the actions and rhetoric of leaders like Marine Le Pen (France), Giorgia Meloni (Italy), and Germany’s Alternative for Germany (AfD). The appeal that fuels their popularity depends on clear enemies, simple solutions, and moral clarity. But once in government, they’re expected to deliver policy, not just rhetoric. The result is an internal split: govern and risk dilution, or stay in opposition and keep the message pure.

The experiences of these leaders underscore a broader populist dilemma: governing necessitates compromise, which can erode the anti-system brand that fuels their support. Engaging with EU institutions and moderating rhetoric may yield short-term political gains but risks long-term alienation of the core electorate that values defiance against the establishment. This balancing act is central to the populist strategy in contemporary European politics. However, this approach also raises questions about the long-term viability of such parties and their ability to translate electoral success into effective governance.

But instead of moderating his tone, Wilders reinforces his position through international alliances, most notably with Hungary’s Viktor Orbán. Wilders has described Orbán as a friend and political ally, and recently closed CPAC Hungary with a speech that echoed Orbán’s hardline anti-migration stance. Where European populists often moderate under pressure, Wilders turns to Orbán’s Hungary as a model of how to rule without compromise. It’s a signal to supporters that the far-right message can remain pure, and in power if the system itself is reshaped.

As the Netherlands faces political instability and struggles to rebuild a government after the 2025 collapse, Geert Wilders strategically positioned himself as the uncompromising voice of those disillusioned with traditional governance. Rather than seeking to control governmental institutions, Wilders exercises influence by controlling the narrative.

His withdrawal from the coalition is not merely a refusal to govern but a calculated act to maintain the purity of his party’s anti-establishment identity and keep his base energized. This tactic leverages media dynamics where presence in the public debate can outweigh actual political responsibility.

In this light, Wilders’ 2025 actions reveal a deep understanding of contemporary political strategy: the power lies less in governing and more in remaining ungovernable. This means shaping public discourse from the outside while others wrestle with compromise and bureaucracy.