Imre Karacs: The politics of hate and fear flourish in suburbia

'The enraptured audiences you find at these rallies are middle-aged people in home-knit sweaters'

It was once an axiom that the politics of hatred feeds on poverty and strife. Yet the far right has recently made spectacular advances in the most tranquil and prosperous parts of Europe: in the cuckoo-clock fringe south of Germany and the Volvo belt up north.

The latest poor little rich country to catch the bug is Denmark, where elections this week brought a right-wing government to power, backed by the anti-immigrant Danish People's Party. The latter soared to take 12 per cent of the vote, almost doubling the number of its seats in parliament. After similar developments in Austria, Switzerland and Norway, a new pattern is emerging.

No, immigration is not necessarily the common thread, even if Danish papers, politicians and the proverbial man on the street have talked of little else. Less than seven per cent of the population is of foreign origin, the majority fully integrated.

There is, truth be told, not much else to discuss. Denmark has been blessed with an uninterrupted economic boom for the past 10 years. Inflation, unemployment, budget deficit, astronomical taxes – all belong to the past. The beer is as good as it always was, while the food, thanks to new exotic restaurants, is a lot better. Danes, who like to think of themselves as a nation of bon viveurs, have never had it so good. And so they took a sharp turn to the right.

All the countries that find themselves in Denmark's newly acquired state of rottenness are immensely wealthy. In Austria, Jörg Haider's Freedom Party gathered 27 per cent of the votes two years ago after a brazenly xenophobic campaign. A little later, Mr Haider's Swiss alter-ego, Christoph Blocher, raked in 23 per cent of the votes for his party with the help of some judicious anti-immigrant rhetoric.

Norway's Carl Hagen, leader of the Progress Party, is propping up the new "centre right" government in Oslo. Mr Hagen proffers a sophisticated potion of deregulation and fewer immigrants. Though Norwegians blush at comparisons between their populist hero and Mr Haider, the similarities are overwhelming, even if Mr Hagen no longer advocates penal colonies in the Arctic wastes of Svalbard.

These countries boast welfare systems that are the envy of the world – excellent schools, brilliant job prospects and, by the standards of Britain, for example, low crime rates. Only two of them, Switzerland and Austria, have a high percentage of foreigners.

Denmark, though, is hardly about to be overrun, whatever Pia Kjaersgaard, the leader of the Danish People Party, asserts. One of her election posters featured a blond child with the warning: "By the time you retire, Denmark will be a majority-Muslim nation." It sold well in the aftermath of 11 September.

Norwegian fears of aliens rest on shakier ground. For years, the government has, in effect, been operating "whites-only" immigration. Nurses are imported from Sweden and Finland, doctors from Germany and Britain. Asylum seekers are strenuously vetted for their ability and willingness to blend with the natives. Most have succeeded, but their dark complexions continue to irritate.

It is no longer true that the politics of hate flourishes in deprivation. Nor have the ascendant parties much in common with the creatures spawned by the Great Depression. Today's creed is suburban. The enraptured audiences you will find at one of Mr Blocher's, Haider's or Ms Kjaersgaard's rallies are middle- aged people in home-knit sweaters, the sort who will turn Vivaldi down after 8pm lest it should disturb the neighbours. Decent folk.

But such voters do resemble their forebears 70 years ago in one important respect. Despite their wealth and legendary comforts, they feel threatened, encircled, swamped. The growing sense of uncertainty is especially acute in the so-called "smaller countries" of Europe. They were once players on the world stage. But does anyone care about them any more? Can the Danes, or even the Dutch, raise their voices these days above the din of the global village?

If a nation as large and influential as Britain fears for its identity in a homogenised Europe, imagine what a niche-culture like Denmark's must be feeling. The Danes have had their moments in European history, but in the global age they are destined to become minnows in the ocean of humanity. It hurts.

The forces that really threaten their 1000-year old civilisation are beyond reach, so they round on the foreign faces. The newcomers are scapegoats just as Jews once were.

Another lesson emerging from the rubble of old politics is that leftist parties that pander to racist sentiment are invariably consumed by the forces they unleash. Just ask the former Social Democrat leaders of Austria, Norway and especially Denmark, whose outgoing prime minister, Poul Nyrup Rasmussen, found time during the election campaign to accuse Muslim citizens of undermining the Danish work ethic with their frequent prayers. He leaves behind the harshest anti-immigrant regime in Europe and a society infused with prejudice.

The immigrant card did not work for Labour in Australia either in elections earlier this month. Nor will it bring lasting success to its British counterpart, which has also been engaged in a spot of immigrant-bashing of late. The message from the fallen Social Democrat governments of Europe and a hapless campaign in Australia is that there will always be people on the right willing to be tougher still on immigration, and they are are more likely to be believed.