13  The New Geopolitics of Internal Conflict in Western Democracies

In the post-Cold War era, Western democracies have increasingly turned their strategic gaze inward. The primary security threats are no longer seen solely as hostile rival states or transnational terror networks, but as problems within: deepening social fractures, democratic erosion, and political violence at home. Scholars of civil conflict and democratic backsliding warn that many Western states exhibit risk factors traditionally associated with instability in developing countries (Walter, 2022; Levitsky & Ziblatt, 2018). These internal drivers include rising partisan polarization, cultural and ethnic cleavages, economic inequality, and declining trust in institutions. Each undermines the liberal democratic consensus that has long underpinned stability in North America and Western Europe. Polarization and Democratic Erosion: Extreme political polarization has become a defining feature of many Western polities. When policy disagreements harden into existential identity conflicts – often splitting along partisan, racial, religious, or urban–rural lines – democracies suffer. How Democracies Die by Levitsky and Ziblatt (2018) shows that in numerous cases around the world, intense polarization fatally weakens democratic norms and institutions[1][2]. In the United States, for example, partisan enmity now extends beyond ordinary policy disputes into fundamental questions of culture and identity[3]. The erosion of unwritten democratic “guardrails” – mutual toleration of political opponents and restraint in exercising power – has been traced to this polarization (Levitsky & Ziblatt, 2018). Indeed, comparative studies find that “extreme polarization can kill democracies”[4]. About half of all democracies that reached “pernicious” levels of polarization since 1950 later experienced democratic decline or breakdown[5]. The United States today stands out as an advanced democracy suffering such toxic polarization, putting it in “uncharted and very dangerous territory” among Western nations[5]. This trend is alarming, as polarized societies become vulnerable to institutional crisis, norm-breaking leadership, and even violence.

Accompanying polarization is the rise of populist or illiberal political movements that challenge liberal democratic norms. Norris and Inglehart’s (2019) cultural backlash thesis argues that recent surges in right-wing populism (e.g. Brexit, Trumpism, Euroskeptic parties) reflect a reaction by traditionalist and less urbanized segments against rapid cultural change and perceived loss of status. Older and socially conservative groups, feeling “left behind” by cosmopolitan, post-materialist values, have mobilized behind authoritarian-populist leaders (Norris & Inglehart, 2019). This backlash has eroded the “civic culture” of tolerance and moderated politics that characterized late 20th-century democracies[6]. Across many countries, public trust and satisfaction with democracy have declined alongside rising support for nativist or anti-establishment parties[6]. Fundamental freedoms and minority rights come under threat when authoritarian-minded leaders gain ground by exploiting these societal divides. The resilience of liberal democracy is being tested from within as never before in recent history.

Social Fragmentation and Loss of Social Capital: Underlying these political trends are deeper social changes. Robert Putnam’s seminal work Bowling Alone (2000) documented the steady erosion of social capital – the networks of trust, civic engagement, and community bonds – in the United States and other advanced democracies in the late 20th century. After peaking around the 1960s, indicators of civic participation (voter turnout, membership in associations, trust in neighbors, etc.) went into steep decline[7][8]. By virtually every measure, Americans became less connected and less trusting of each other over two generations[9]. This fraying of the social fabric has grave political implications: atomized, distrustful citizens are more susceptible to zero-sum thinking and partisan tribalism. The decline of bridging social capital – links that unite diverse groups – means fewer cross-cutting ties to mitigate political and cultural divides (Putnam, 2000). Instead, bonding social capital within homogeneous groups (e.g. along partisan or ethnic lines) can produce “sociological superglue” that reinforces echo chambers[10][11]. The result is often greater societal fragmentation, as groups turn inward and view outsiders with suspicion. These conditions create fertile ground for demagogues and “conflict entrepreneurs” (Walter, 2022) who exploit divisions for political gain.

Indeed, Barbara F. Walter (2022) identifies factionalism and status loss as key risk factors for civil conflict in democracies[12]. When significant segments of the population – for example, historically dominant ethnic or religious groups – feel that their status is declining in a changing society, they may grow resentful and receptive to extremist rhetoric. Walter notes that in the U.S., the perception among some white conservatives of a “downgrading” of their majority status has fueled radicalization[13]. Surveys in recent years show increasing willingness among partisans to countenance violence in pursuit of political ends[13]. This troubling shift in norms is often attributed to fear of cultural displacement – a theme that recurs across Western democracies where immigration and demographic change are salient. David Betz (2025) likewise argues that “the perception of ‘downgrading’ of a former majority” is a powerful driver of potential civil strife in the West[14]. In country after country, anti-establishment movements frame politics as a battle to save the “real” nation (often defined in ethnic or cultural terms) from cosmopolitan elites and alien influences.

Economic Grievances and Inequality: Alongside cultural status anxieties, economic grievances contribute to instability. Many Western societies have experienced stagnating middle-class incomes and growing inequality in the era of globalization. Whole regions and communities – especially rural, post-industrial, or less educated populations – feel left behind by urban-centric, knowledge economies. This economic divergence feeds populist resentment against “globalist” elites and technocrats, as documented in numerous studies (e.g. Gest, 2016; Cramer, 2016). While robust democratic institutions can sometimes channel economic discontent into policy change, prolonged inequality often interacts with identity cleavages in combustible ways. For instance, support for populist-nationalist agendas is often strongest among those who both suffer economic stagnation and sense a loss of cultural primacy (Norris & Inglehart, 2019)[15][16]. The Inequality chapter of this volume explores how widening economic divides can corrode social cohesion and fuel anti-system politics. In short, the convergence of economic and cultural pressures – a middle class squeezed by globalization and a majority culture feeling its dominance ebb – creates a volatile mix.

The Information Ecosystem and the Digital Battlefield: A distinctively 21st-century driver of instability is the transformation of information flows through digital media. Social media platforms and online news silos have accelerated the spread of extreme views, conspiracy theories, and mutual demonization. In the “Digital Battlefield” chapter, we see how algorithms and disinformation campaigns polarize societies by reinforcing confirmation biases and facilitating recruitment into extremist networks. Domestic extremist groups – from armed militias to hate organizations – have leveraged online platforms to organize and propagandize more effectively than ever before. Meanwhile, foreign adversaries (such as Russia’s well-documented interference in U.S. and European elections) have stoked internal divisions as a geopolitical strategy. The net effect is an information environment rife with distrust and manipulation, undermining the shared reality needed for a functioning democracy. This digital echo chamber effect amplifies other drivers: it magnifies perceived grievances, spreads fear of “others,” and can even help coordinate violent action (witness how social media helped mobilize participants in the January 6, 2021 U.S. Capitol riot, a stark example of political violence fueled by misinformation).

Eroding Legitimacy of Institutions: All of these trends – polarization, social fragmentation, inequality, and toxic information wars – converge to undermine citizens’ faith that the normal democratic process can address their concerns. Mainstream political parties and institutions are increasingly seen as ineffective or corrupt by large segments of the public. Betz (2025) points to a “collapse of public confidence in the ability of normal politics to solve problems” as a precursor to insurgency[17]. When people lose hope in change through elections and governance, some turn to more radical, extra-legal means. In Western democracies, trust in government and democratic institutions has indeed fallen in recent decades, particularly after shocks like the 2008 financial crisis and repeated governance stalemates. The United States again illustrates this: surveys record historically low levels of trust in Congress, media, and other institutions. In such an environment, anti-status quo groups may come to believe that violence or systems disruption is the only viable strategy to achieve their aims[17]. As Betz notes, would-be insurgents have identified critical vulnerabilities in modern societies – such as the internet, power grids, and other critical infrastructure – that could be targeted to create chaos and force political change[18]. This logic follows the playbook of “leaderless resistance” and stochastic terrorism, where lone actors or small cells attack infrastructure or civilians to undermine state authority.

In sum, the internal drivers of conflict in Western democracies center on a dangerous feedback loop of polarization, perceived injustice, and institutional delegitimation. Where societies are culturally fractured, economically strained, and politically gridlocked, the risk of organized violence rises. Classic quantitative studies of civil war support this: James Fearon and David Laitin (2003) found that state weakness and political instability – often signaled by low GDP per capita, weak governance, and recent regime change – are better predictors of civil war onset than ethnic or religious diversity per se[19]. Historically, wealthy Western democracies have enjoyed strong state capacity and broadly accepted political orders, insulating them from civil war. But if those advantages erode (e.g. through prolonged governance failures and social division), the structural conditions begin to resemble those that have led to insurgencies elsewhere[20]. As Walter (2022) observes, countries in a transitional political state – neither full democracy nor outright autocracy, but something in-between (often termed anocracies) – are most prone to internal conflict[12]. Alarmingly, several Western countries show signs of sliding in that direction, as democratic norms weaken and factionalism grows. The next section examines what form such internal conflicts might take if these drivers spark wide-scale violence.

13.1 The Character of Civil Conflict in Post-Industrial Democracies

If political violence were to erupt in a Western democracy, what would it actually look like? Analysts broadly agree it would not resemble the classic image of civil war from the 19th or early 20th centuries – pitched armies in the field or a clear territorial secession. Barbara Walter argues that a second American civil war, for example, is “unlikely to [be] a rerun of the 19th century secessionist civil war with organized armies.” Rather, the greater danger is irregular political violence: protracted campaigns of terrorism, riots, assassinations, and militia attacks that blur the line between crime and war[13]. In modern democracies, outright rebellion in the form of uniformed militias holding territory is improbable at the outset. The state security forces (military, police) still possess overwhelming firepower. However, we may see sustained low-intensity conflict – sometimes called dirty war or armed politics – that can metastasize if unchecked.

David Betz (2025) describes this as an incipient “system disruption” insurgency. In a scenario for Britain, France, or the U.S., he envisions sporadic but coordinated attacks on critical infrastructure (power grids, telecommunications, transportation) aimed at making cities ungovernable and inducing chaos[18][21]. This is a form of asymmetric warfare where non-state actors avoid direct military confrontation, instead attacking the vulnerable nodes that keep society functional. Such a conflict would be networked and dispersed: leaderless resistance cells sharing ideology (often via online networks) but acting autonomously, urban riots flaring up unpredictably, and rural militias harassing authorities in their locales. It is a war “amongst the people” (in General Rupert Smith’s phrase) rather than set-piece battles – meaning it takes place in neighborhoods, streets, and cyberspace rather than on a defined front[22][23]. Civilians would inevitably be on the front lines, both as victims and as participants.

Historical patterns of civil war support the expectation of a messy, protracted conflict. Civil wars tend to be longer and more complex than interstate wars, often because combatants hide among civilian populations and because conflicts fragment into multiple factions. From 1945–1999, the median civil war lasted about 6 years, far longer than most conventional wars, and on average they were bloodier in total casualties[24]. One study found some 16.2 million deaths from civil wars in that period, roughly five times the deaths in interstate war[25]. Once such violence begins, it can be very difficult to stop, especially if outside actors get involved (foreign intervention often prolongs civil wars by funding or supporting one side)[26]. For Western democracies, this means any internal war could be a slow-grinding disaster rather than a swift resolution. The goal of strategy, as Betz posits, would have to shift to damage limitation – i.e. shortening the conflict and mitigating its worst effects, since outright “victory” may be elusive[27][28].

We can also anticipate extraordinarily high human costs even in a “low-grade” civil conflict. Betz offers a sobering hypothetical: if a country like Britain (70 million people) experienced violence at merely the intensity of Northern Ireland’s worst year (1971), that would translate to over 23,000 deaths per year nationally[29]. If the intensity were more akin to the Bosnian War or Syrian War, somewhere between 1% and 4% of the population could be killed over a few years[29]. For the U.S. with 330 million people, even 1% fatalities would mean 3.3 million dead – a catastrophic toll far exceeding U.S. losses in any foreign war. And for every person killed, many more would be injured or displaced. Thus, even a “best-case” internal conflict scenario (limited in scope) entails horrific suffering and societal trauma[30]. This underscores why the mere prospect of such conflict in the West, once thought unthinkable, is now prompting serious analysis. It also reframes military strategy: the armed forces in these states might need to devote as much planning to homeland conflict management as they traditionally have to external defense[31].

Another hallmark of civil wars is fragmentation and irregular organization. Stathis Kalyvas’s research on the logic of civil war violence shows that these conflicts rarely break neatly into two cohesive sides; instead, they spawn multiple militias, splinter groups, and opportunistic actors. Control over territory can be patchy, leading to a mosaic of zones under government, rebel, or contested control (Kalyvas, 2006). For instance, Kalyvas identifies five “zones of control” in civil wars – ranging from areas fully under incumbent control to areas fully under insurgent control, with contested zones in between – and notes that patterns of violence differ in each[32]. In zones of fragmented or contested authority, violence against civilians can be especially chaotic as both sides try to root out suspected enemies. Translating this to a Western context: we might imagine pockets of cities firmly held by government forces, suburbs or rural counties effectively ruled by militias, and many areas of ambiguous control. Political violence could include terrorist bombings in one region, pitched street battles in another, and relative calm elsewhere – all within the same country. Such complexity defies the simpler scenarios of traditional war, complicating any response. It also challenges data science and intelligence efforts to map the conflict: real-time analysis of social media, communications, and population movements would be critical in understanding the fluid battlespace (a theme that connects to the Digital Battlefield perspective in this volume).

Finally, it is important to note that any nascent civil conflict in a democracy would likely provoke early attempts at repression or accommodation by the state to prevent all-out war. Unlike fragile states with weak institutions, Western governments still retain significant capacity – police, intelligence, and military forces that could be deployed domestically (albeit with political constraints). The moment political violence rises, leaders may face pressure to declare states of emergency or even martial law to restore order. This carries its own risks: heavy-handed crackdowns can backfire and increase popular support for insurgents, while appeasement can embolden them. The strategic calculus is immensely difficult. Some scholars (e.g. Barbara Walter) have suggested institutional reforms as a pre-emptive antidote: for example, reducing political extremism through election reforms or addressing representation gaps, so that aggrieved factions do not feel violence is their only recourse[33][34]. Strengthening democratic resilience before violence erupts – by shoring up norms, improving governance, and addressing inequalities – is clearly preferable to trying to pick up the pieces after a civil war starts. We will return to the theme of democratic resilience at the end of this chapter. First, we delve deeper into specific features anticipated in any internal conflict: the urban–rural divide, the fate of cities, cultural and humanitarian crises, and the specter of weapons of mass destruction.

13.2 Feral Cities and the Urban–Rural Divide

One of the most striking strategic implications of an internal Western conflict is the likely division between rebellious peripheries and “fortified” urban centers – or conversely, feral cities embroiled in chaos versus comparatively calmer rural or suburban regions. A core theme in recent studies (Betz, 2025; Norton, 2003) is that major cities could become both the primary battlegrounds and the first territories effectively lost by the state in a civil conflict scenario. Richard Norton coined the term “feral city” to describe “a metropolis with a population of more than a million people in a state whose government has lost the ability to maintain the rule of law within the city’s boundaries, yet remains a functioning actor in the greater international system.”[35] In other words, a feral city is one that has partially slipped into anarchy even though the national government still exists. Originally, this concept was applied to fragile states (Norton’s oft-cited example was Mogadishu in the 1990s Somalia)[36]. However, analysts now warn that multiple Western cities are exhibiting “amber” levels of ferality – high crime and corruption, informal zones where police rarely enter, deteriorating infrastructure, parallel economies, and burgeoning private security filling the gaps[37]. Western governments, facing increasing civilizational stress and waning legitimacy, are losing their ability to peacefully manage hyper-diverse, fractured urban societies[38]. Should a civil conflict ignite, these major cities could tip from marginally feral (amber) to actively feral (red), overwhelming law enforcement and effectively becoming ungovernable warzones.

At the same time, there is a growing urban–rural political divide that would shape the lines of conflict. In many democracies, large metropolitan areas and rural hinterlands have sharply diverging political identities. Urban centers tend to be more liberal, multicultural, and aligned with the status quo (or at least with globalist, progressive values), while smaller towns and rural regions skew conservative, nativist, or anti-establishment – feeling alienated from the urban elite-dominated politics (Rodden, 2019; Cramer, 2016). This divide has been vividly illustrated in elections. For example, in France’s 2024 European Parliament elections, the far-right National Rally (Marine Le Pen’s party, running on an anti-elite, anti-immigration platform) dominated vast swathes of rural and exurban constituencies (shown in black on the map), whereas more urban constituencies (shown in white) voted for a variety of other parties[39]. The map of France was almost a black-and-white patchwork of rural nationalist vs. urban pluralist support, indicating a profound geographic polarization[39]. Similar patterns appear in the United States – the electoral map shows coasts and cities voting one way, interior and rural counties another – and in Britain, Italy, Poland, and beyond. This place-based cleavage means that if conflict erupts, it could align with location: discontented rural or peripheral groups versus cosmopolitan urban groups. Indeed, Betz argues that “the major cities are radically more diverse and have a growing mutually hostile political relationship with the [rural] country in which they are embedded.”[40] In essence, London versus England’s countryside, Paris versus la France profonde, New York/Los Angeles versus “Middle America.”

How would this play out in war? Betz outlines a plausible trajectory: first, major cities would be wracked by disorder and violence to the point that police (even augmented by military units) could no longer maintain civil order[21]. The imagery is of street clashes, neighborhoods barricaded by rival groups, perhaps ethno-sectarian strife in multiethnic quarters – effectively, urban insurrection. State authority inside the cities would crumble; local strongmen or militias might control different districts. Meanwhile, legitimacy of the national government would plummet everywhere as chaos seemingly proved the state impotent[21]. Second, people in the rural or outer regions – particularly those of the “titular” nationality or majority group who may view the diverse cities as culturally foreign – would come to see the cities as lost territories, even enemy territory occupied by traitors or outsiders[41]. This mindset sets the stage for a siege dynamic: the rural insurgents target the lifelines of the cities. Modern cities cannot survive without daily inputs of electricity, fuel, food, and communications that mostly originate outside the urban core. Crucially, “the life support systems of cities are all located in or pass through rural areas,” and they are extremely difficult to fully secure[42]. A simplified map of Britain’s energy infrastructure, for instance, shows power plants, gas terminals, and transmission lines spread through the countryside[43]. These become obvious choke points. Insurgents could sabotage transformers, cut pipelines, down transmission lines or fiber-optic cables – methods that do not require large forces, only stealth and coordination. In fact, such attacks have already been previewed: in 2024, during unrest in France, saboteurs carried out a major attack on long-distance fiber-optic cables and coordinated arson on the rail network around Paris[21]. These acts, aimed at disrupting the city during a tumultuous time (the run-up to the Paris Olympics), exemplify the strategy of hitting urban infrastructure to paralyze the metropolis.

Thus, a Western civil conflict might evolve into a de facto urban-rural war: feral cities controlled by factions and wracked by violence, and an angry periphery assaulting those cities’ supply networks to force their collapse. This scenario in some ways inverts the classic pattern of 20th-century revolutions where rebels seize the countryside first and encircle the cities. Here, it could be the rural or peripheral “loyalists” (or in their own view, the true patriots) laying siege to largely rebel-held cosmopolitan cities. The strategic implications are severe. Urban warfare is notoriously difficult – a city is a labyrinth where defenders can hold out block by block. If multiple large cities are in turmoil, a national government may lack the forces to restore order in each, especially if elements of the security forces themselves fragment along political lines. The “Digital Battlefield” aspect is also salient: cities house major communication hubs and media centers. Control of broadcasting or internet nodes could influence the narrative nationwide, perhaps deepening the urban-rural rift as each side propagates demonizing messages about the other. External actors might also feed into this narrative war (for instance, an adversarial foreign power could covertly support rural insurgents by cyber-attacks on city infrastructure or propaganda support, framing it as aiding the “authentic nation” against globalist urbanites – a scenario not unlike Russian information operations seen in recent years).

It’s important to note that not all Western countries have the same urban-rural dynamics, but many do have some version of it. Where the “Culture Wars” map onto geography, the likelihood of such spatially distinct conflict increases. In countries like Spain or Canada, there could be an overlay of regional nationalism (Catalan, Québécois) on top of urban-rural divides, making conflicts even more multi-faceted. In the United States, racial and ethnic distributions (with minority populations often concentrated in cities) add another layer of complexity – raising the ugly prospect that an urban-rural civil war could intertwine with racial strife, as extremist militias mobilize against urban centers they perceive as denationalized or alien. Samuel Huntington’s “clash of civilizations” paradigm (1996) was originally about global cultural blocs, but one might repurpose the idea to describe a clash within civilizations: Western countries splitting internally along cultural fault lines of secular vs. traditional, multicultural vs. nativist. Huntington himself warned that multiculturalism and identity politics could weaken the unity of Western nations, asking whether the United States would remain a coherent civilization or split into disparate cultural camps (Huntington, 1996). In a sense, the feral cities vs. rural heartland scenario is a civilizational clash in microcosm.

13.3 Cultural Capital Under Siege: Iconoclasm and Identity Conflict

Civil conflicts in the West would not only be battles for territory or political control, but also battles over culture and identity. Conflicts often bring to the fore violent iconoclasm – the destruction or defacement of symbols, monuments, and institutions that carry cultural significance. We have seen hints of this already in peacetime polarization: controversies over historical statues, flags, and national narratives have intensified. In wartime, such disputes can turn lethal. Betz (2025) notes that civil wars characteristically inflict “serious depredation through iconoclastic vandalism or theft of societal cultural infrastructure – i.e., art and other historic objects and architecture.”[44] In other words, museums, libraries, churches, monuments, and even universities could become targets for looting or destruction, either for profit or as acts of ideological warfare. During the Yugoslav Wars in the 1990s, we saw libraries burned and mosques dynamited as perpetrators sought to erase the cultural heritage of rival communities. One can imagine similar attacks in a Western civil conflict: extremist groups might sack government archives or national museums they view as representing a despised elite culture, or they might destroy symbols of multiculturalism or minority religions as acts of terror. Conversely, some groups may target symbols of majority heritage (for instance, revolutionary factions defacing statues of colonial figures or slave-owning Founders, framing it as justice). In any case, the nation’s cultural capital – its historical memory and identity embodied in buildings and art – becomes collateral damage or deliberate target.

Why does this matter strategically? Beyond the immediate loss of heritage, widespread cultural destruction can deepen the psychological divide and make reconciliation harder post-conflict. It signals to communities that the war is existential – aimed at wiping out not just people but their very legacy. Recognizing this pattern, during World War II the Allies formed the “Monuments Men” teams to safeguard cultural property in war zones[45]. In a future internal conflict, Western nations might need similar efforts: dedicated units to protect archives, artworks, and landmarks from destruction or looting amid chaos. The Cultural Capital chapter of this book (if one were devoted to that topic) could feasibly analyze data on attacks against cultural sites in conflict and their long-term impact on societies. For our purposes, it suffices to note that an internal war in educated, historically rich societies would involve a tragic assault on their own civilizational achievements.

Cultural targets are not only symbolic but can also have practical implications for conflict. For instance, if insurgents loot antiquities or art, they could finance their operations through black-market sales (as ISIL did, profiting from selling artifacts). Or destroying a community’s places of worship and culture may drive them to flee (overlapping with the next topic, displacement). Furthermore, battles over cultural narratives – which vision of the nation’s identity will prevail – often fuel the conflict’s propaganda. Samuel Huntington wrote that “the most important distinctions among peoples are cultural” in the post-Cold War world[46]. In an internal war, factions might literally fight over which culture (or whose culture) defines the nation. This could manifest as rival education systems in different zones, competing broadcasts (each erasing the other side’s version of history), and attempts to physically destroy what the other side holds sacred. The Clash of Civilizations may thus play out not just between West and non-West, but within Western countries as a clash between divergent cultural visions.

On a more hopeful note, awareness of these stakes might prompt efforts, even amid conflict, to safeguard some spaces of culture. Perhaps warring parties could agree to spare certain world heritage sites or to allow evacuations of archives. In the Bosnian War, the besieged residents of Sarajevo risked sniper fire to rescue books from the National Library as it burned; such bravery shows that even in civil war, people fight not just for survival but for their cultural soul.

13.4 Displacement, “Secure Zones,” and Humanitarian Challenges

All wars cause civilians to flee danger, but civil wars in developed democracies could create unprecedented internal displacement crises. Modern Western states are densely urbanized and dependent on complex systems; when those systems break down under conflict, millions could be on the move seeking safety. As Betz observes, when a “formerly multivalent society tears itself apart at the level of neighborhoods it can be difficult to tell where to flee and when.”[47] In countries that have not experienced war on their soil for generations, civilians lack any lived experience of when to evacuate or where a safe haven might be. Some might initially assume, for example, that rural areas or small towns are safer and relocate preemptively from the cities (as some did from Paris in 2024 during unrest)[48]. But as violence spreads, even those havens could become targets (especially if insurgents intentionally drive people out to create “cleansed” zones). Unlike a foreign invasion where one can flee away from a front line, a civil war’s front lines are blurry and can pop up anywhere, making flight paths unpredictable.

Displacement in a Western civil war could also be strategic and deliberate. Recent civil wars (Bosnia, Syria, etc.) show that armed groups often use forced population movement as a tactic, not just a side-effect. Ethnic cleansing is one extreme form: expelling populations to homogenize territory. Even short of that, forcing masses of people to move can destabilize opponent-held areas (by inundating them with refugees) and can serve as a tool of terror. “As with iconoclasm, displacement has a deliberate strategic function,” Betz writes[49]. First, it segregates society: people effectively “self-sort” by choosing where to flee, often aligning with their identity or allegiance (e.g. minorities fleeing to zones controlled by their co-ethnics, regime loyalists clustering in government-held enclaves)[49]. This assortative effect makes each faction’s territory more homogenous, which can strengthen group identity and cohesion. Second, once populations are concentrated this way, leaders find it easier to extract recruits and resources from them because the population is more uniformly supportive[49]. Third, and most grim, it allows factions to attempt to permanently alter demographics – for instance, expelling a rival group and ensuring they never return, thus “solving” a perceived demographic threat once and for all[49]. These aims were evident in the Balkan wars and others, and could motivate actors in Western conflicts as well (for example, a white nationalist militia might try to drive immigrants out of a region to create an ethnically “pure” stronghold, or vice versa). Research corroborates that forced displacement can escalate and internationalize conflicts. Refugee flows often spread instability across borders as fleeing groups may carry grievances and mobilize in exile[50]. Salehyan and Gleditsch (2006) found that civil wars tend to diffuse into neighboring countries when large refugee populations arrive, because rebels can hide among refugees or conflicts ignite between refugees and host communities. Within a single country, internally displaced persons (IDPs) can also prolong conflict if they regroup and seek revenge. Refugees have direct grievances and experiences of victimization that can make them more willing to fight[51]. Having lost homes and loved ones, their “opportunity costs for more fighting” are lowered[51] – meaning they have less to lose and may seek justice or retribution through violence. This dynamic tragically perpetuates a cycle: violence begets displacement, which begets more violence.

Confronted with the prospect of mass displacement on their own soil, Western governments and militaries would face a humanitarian imperative: how to shelter and protect potentially millions of their own citizens uprooted by conflict. Traditional refugee solutions (like international aid camps) were designed for poorer regions or for hosting refugees across borders, not for use in high-income countries for their domestic population. Betz suggests that Western armed forces may need to establish “secure zones” within their territory – areas where as much of normal life as possible can continue under military protection[52]. These would be akin to the “safe havens” or protected enclaves that Western militaries have helped set up in foreign conflicts (e.g. the no-fly zone that protected Kurdish areas in Iraq in 1991, or UN safe areas in Bosnia)[53]. But doing this at home would be novel. A secure zone might be, for example, a fortified region or city (or part of a city) controlled by loyal government forces, where displaced civilians from conflict areas could gather and be defended. It would not be completely safe (hence Betz notes “secure” is a misnomer – danger would be diminished, not absent)[52], but it could prevent the worst outcomes.

Key features for a secure zone would include access to supply lines (air or sea ports to bring in relief), a defensible perimeter, and basic infrastructure like power and water[54]. Essentially, it’s creating an emergency micro-state that can hold out even if the rest of the country is in chaos. Prior planning would be crucial: mapping out potential zones (for instance, islands or peninsulas, or areas near friendly neighboring countries that could assist) and even stockpiling essentials there in advance[55]. Betz draws an analogy to Britain’s Cold War-era Regional Seats of Government system – bunkers and plans to continue governance regionally if London were destroyed in a nuclear war[56]. Similarly, in a civil war, if central government loses grip, these secure zones could serve as rallying points for reconstituting authority.

One optimistic note is that Western militaries, though not designed for domestic humanitarian operations at such scale, are far more capable logistics-wise than those of most countries that have faced civil wars. Evacuating and caring for millions of people is daunting, but not more so than war plans to, say, supply entire nations abroad. Betz argues that the humanitarian challenge of civil conflict, while massive, is more manageable than trying to fight everywhere at once[57]. In Britain’s case he suggests the existing small army might realistically manage to hold some territory as secure zones, even if it cannot quell violence nationwide[57]. The priority would be to save lives and preserve a nucleus of the nation, rather than immediately win the war. This represents a shift in strategic thinking: akin to civil defense, it’s about resilience and mitigation (limiting death and preserving human capital for post-war recovery) rather than purely offense or defense against an enemy.

We should also consider the international humanitarian response. If a Western democracy imploded, international organizations like the UN and Red Cross, and neighboring states, would likely step in to assist civilians. Ironically, Western countries that have been donors and peacekeepers could find themselves on the receiving end of peacekeeping. Imagine EU forces having to deliver aid in a collapsing EU member state, or the United States requesting international help for displaced populations after widespread militia violence – scenarios once confined to fiction but not inconceivable after recent years’ turmoil. This raises legal and political complexities: would a sovereign government admit foreign peacekeepers on its soil? What if the government itself has fragmented? These questions show how a Western civil war could strain the current international system, which assumes stability in the Global North. Failed-State Scenarios and the WMD Question

Perhaps the most nightmarish aspect of an internal conflict in the West is the intersection of civil war with weapons of mass destruction (WMDs). To date, no nuclear-armed democracy (or any nuclear-armed state for that matter) has descended into full-scale civil war – the collapse of the Soviet Union in 1991 was the closest brush, and it remained just short of outright civil war. The Soviet disintegration nevertheless triggered urgent fears about “loose nukes,” leading the United States to launch the Cooperative Threat Reduction (CTR) program to secure and dismantle WMDs in the former USSR[58]. Through the 1990s, tens of thousands of nuclear warheads and materials were accounted for and either destroyed or locked down, with American assistance, precisely to prevent them from falling into rogue hands or black markets. This precedent is telling: if Western states like the U.S., UK, or France (all nuclear powers) showed signs of state collapse or civil war, the international community’s first concern would be the custody of nuclear arsenals and other WMD materials[58][59].

Betz distills three lessons for commanders in nations sliding toward instability, drawn from the Soviet experience[59]. First, militaries must ensure rigorous accounting and security of all WMD stockpiles now, before any conflict, because once chaos hits, it may be too late to prevent weapons from going missing[59]. This might mean devising contingency plans such as physically consolidating nuclear warheads in a few ultra-secure sites or even disabling some if the chain of command is compromised. Second, the potential use of even a single nuclear or chemical weapon in a civil war would have gigantic consequences – potentially killing hundreds of thousands and rendering areas uninhabitable[60]. The horror of such an event could also provide a justification for external powers to intervene (e.g. a foreign coalition might declare that preventing WMD catastrophe warrants action on humanitarian grounds). Betz notes rumors that the U.S. has contemplated securing Pakistan’s nuclear weapons if that country ever fell into civil war – highlighting that great powers take proliferation risks seriously[60]. Third, and perhaps counterintuitively, nuclear weapons could be a double-edged sword for a failing state. On one hand, they deter outside aggression – as long as a faction controls nukes, other states will be very cautious in how they intervene (no one wants to corner a nuclear-armed actor). On the other hand, if a state loses control of its nukes (or is disarmed of them), it becomes “acutely vulnerable to foreign predation”[61]. Betz invokes a saying that Russia was “Upper Volta with rockets” – implying that without its rockets (nuclear arms), it might have been treated like any weak resource-rich region by stronger powers[62]. Translated to Western democracies: part of what protects them from external intervention is precisely their military strength and WMD deterrents. If internal conflict effectively neutralized that (say, the arsenal is immobilized or under dispute), the calculus of foreign powers might shift toward viewing the country as an open arena for influence or even invasion under the guise of stabilization. Thus, a failing Western state could trigger a global scramble for its WMDs and assets. One can imagine multiple scenarios: a) the legitimate government invites allied powers to help secure nuclear sites against insurgent capture (similar to how the U.S. helped guard Soviet warheads in the 90s); b) if there’s no clear legitimate authority, outside powers might unilaterally move in special forces to prevent weapons falling into terrorist hands; c) an opportunistic rival (say, an authoritarian great power) might intervene ostensibly to secure WMDs but also to grab strategic advantage or territory. Any such move, of course, could escalate tensions among external powers – raising the specter of a wider war triggered by a civil war.

Even apart from nuclear arms, Western states have chemical and biological research facilities, radiological materials in hospitals, and other hazardous substances that could be repurposed by malicious actors during chaos. The terrorism dimension here is obvious: an ISIS-like group arising in a Western civil war might see a chance to obtain deadly weapons and use them. Conversely, a desperate government faction might contemplate a “Samson option” of using WMD tactically if it believes the nation’s survival is at stake. These scenarios are extremely speculative but cannot be ruled out given the precedent that no nuclear state has collapsed before[63]. It is precisely the unprecedented nature of such a scenario that keeps defense planners up at night.

Finally, consider the failed state scenario more broadly. If a Western democracy collapses into war, does it become a “failed state”? By some definitions, yes – unable to monopolize force or provide security. The implications for the international order are massive. For one, global economic stability would reel: a failed-state USA or a major European country would crash markets and supply chains worldwide (imagine if the U.S. government defaulted amid war – the reserve currency destabilized – or if a major tech hub like California was cut off). Moreover, adversarial powers might exploit the power vacuum: for example, China expanding influence in the Pacific if the U.S. retrenches due to internal issues, or Russia meddling in Europe. The Global Geopolitical Consequences are explored next, but the WMD question underlines a particular risk: humanitarian intervention vs. sovereignty disputes. In weaker states, the UN Security Council sometimes authorizes interventions in failing states (as in Somalia, 1992). Would the world have the will (or audacity) to intervene in a failing nuclear state? Who would lead that – old allies like NATO, or a UN-backed force? And if the warring sides in the civil war oppose foreign intervention, it could escalate conflict between them and international forces.

One lesson from the Cold War’s end is that even adversaries can find common ground on securing WMDs – the U.S. and Russia cooperated in the 1990s on non-proliferation when faced with a shared risk. So perhaps in a Western civil war, rival powers would quietly agree to prioritize preventing WMD disaster. But that coordination would require a level of trust and competence that might be lacking in a chaotic scenario.

13.5 Global Geopolitical Consequences and Democratic Resilience

The internal turmoil of Western democracies would reverberate globally, potentially marking a historic shift in the international system. During the 20th century, Western nations were exporters of security and order – through alliances like NATO, through economic leadership, and by promoting democratic norms abroad. Widespread internal conflict in the West could invert that role, making these countries consumers of security assistance and sources of instability that spill beyond their borders.

Geopolitical Power Vacuum: If major Western powers are consumed by internal strife, global power dynamics would shift in favor of authoritarian regimes and emerging powers. For instance, sustained instability in the United States – long the guarantor of a liberal world order – might embolden rival powers like China to assert regional dominance or attempt to redefine international norms. U.S. allies in Asia and Europe might feel compelled to accommodate China or Russia in the absence of reliable U.S. support. NATO, the EU, and other Western-led institutions could fracture or at least become paralyzed if key member-states are fighting at home. The result might resemble the early 1990s but in reverse: instead of the Soviet collapse leaving the U.S. as sole superpower, a Western democratic collapse might leave an assertive China or a Russia-led bloc with freer rein. Even smaller rogue states or terrorist organizations might seize opportunities – for example, ISIS 2.0 trying to carve territory in a destabilized European region or Al-Qaeda resurfacing amid a distracted America.

Additionally, the narrative victory for authoritarianism would be significant. Autocratic leaders have long claimed that democracies are decadent and chaotic. A scenario in which multiple Western democracies implode into civil conflict would bolster the authoritarian narrative that liberal democracy is weak and unsustainable. This could inspire more crackdowns by regimes claiming to prevent “Western-style chaos,” and it could reduce the soft power of democracy advocates worldwide. Samuel Huntington’s prediction that the post-Cold War world would see conflicts along civilizational lines[46] might morph into a different struggle: democratic versus authoritarian systems, with the latter gleefully highlighting the former’s disarray. Alternatively, Huntington’s thesis might appear in another guise: internal civilizational collapse of the West, as it fails to reconcile internal cultural diversity and value clashes – an outcome he implicitly feared when he asked whether the U.S. would remain a cohesive civilization.

Refugee Crises and Regional Destabilization: Conflicts in Western states would produce refugee flows of a scale not seen in modern history, except perhaps in world wars. Neighboring countries (including non-Western ones) could face influxes of refugees from Europe or North America, challenging the notion that refugees only flow from Global South to North. One could imagine Canadian and Mexican responses to a U.S. collapse, or North African and Middle Eastern countries seeing desperate European boat people – a reversal of recent migration patterns. How the world manages potentially tens of millions of Western refugees would test international humanitarian systems. There might also be reverse brain drain: skilled professionals from war-torn Western states could scatter to more stable countries, benefitting those host countries economically but deepening the home country’s post-war recovery challenges (a kind of “brain hemorrhage” rather than brain drain). Diaspora communities formed during the conflict could become political players abroad, lobbying foreign governments to support their side back home, possibly internationalizing the conflict. Historically, exiles and diasporas from civil wars (like the Cuban or Iranian diasporas) have indeed influenced foreign policy. Western diasporas, with their education and global connections, could be quite effective in that regard.

Democratic Ideals and International Norms: A less tangible but crucial consequence would be the damage to the ideal of democracy and rule of law. International human rights and conflict resolution norms often originated from Western initiatives. If Western democracies fail, will international commitments to human rights treaties, climate agreements, etc., erode? Possibly so, if successor regimes are more authoritarian or simply too preoccupied to engage internationally. On the flip side, the shock of Western conflict could galvanize other democracies (in Asia, Africa, Latin America) to double down on cooperation to preserve some form of democratic order. One could envision, for example, India, Japan, and others taking up more leadership to fill a void left by the West. However, their capacity to do so quickly is uncertain.

Opportunities for Peacebuilding Innovation: A grim positive that could emerge is innovation in conflict resolution and peacebuilding. The international community, faced with the formerly unthinkable task of mediating a Western civil war, might develop new tools or revive old ones: perhaps power-sharing agreements, decentralized federal models to keep states intact, or strong international guarantees for peace settlements. The involvement of advanced economies might mean more resources are put into peace processes (for example, tech companies could be enlisted to help detect and counter hate speech and incitement online as part of peacebuilding, applying data science solutions to conflict prevention). In a data-driven sense (aligning with A Data Science Perspective), massive digital datasets from a wired society in conflict could allow unprecedented real-time monitoring of conflict dynamics, informing more agile diplomatic interventions. For instance, machine learning could potentially predict escalation flashpoints by analyzing social media, enabling pre-emptive humanitarian evacuations or targeted reconciliation messaging.

Democratic Resilience – Fighting Back Against the Slide: Finally, amid these dark forecasts, we must ask: Is collapse inevitable? History provides examples of democracies pulling back from the brink. Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt remind us that breakdown is neither inevitable nor irreversible[64]. Societies have, at times, managed to depolarize and renew their democracies through deliberate effort or enlightened leadership. The resilience of democracy may yet be stronger than the forces tearing at it. For example, social movements across history – from the civil rights movement in the U.S. to pro-democracy movements in authoritarian states – show that public mobilization can defend democratic norms even when institutions falter. In several countries that faced severe polarization (e.g. Sweden in the 1930s, or Colombia in recent years), broad coalitions and reforms eventually reduced divisions and averted collapse[65].

In practical terms, Western democracies can take steps now to bolster their resilience. These could include: electoral reforms to reward moderation (as Walter (2022) suggests, for instance, replacing winner-take-all systems that incentivize two hostile camps with proportional or ranked-choice voting to encourage compromise)[33]; efforts to rebuild social capital (re-investing in community organizations, civic education, and public service to bring people together across lines, à la Putnam’s revival strategies); economic measures to reduce stark inequalities and regional disparities (thus undercutting populist anger rooted in economic hopelessness, tying in insights from the Inequality chapter); and strengthening the professionalism and neutrality of institutions like the judiciary, law enforcement, and military so that they do not become partisans in any future conflict. The USA chapter likely delves into some reforms under debate in the United States (for example, proposals to curb executive power abuses, reforms to social media regulation, etc.), which have relevance across other democracies too.

Internationally, supporting democratic resilience means addressing the transnational flows that aggravate internal conflict: curbing the spread of disinformation across borders, cooperating to shut down extremist financing networks, and learning from each other’s best practices in managing polarization. Initiatives like citizen assemblies (randomly selected citizens deliberating on policy) have shown promise in reducing polarization by finding common ground on tough issues; Western democracies might scale up such practices.

Ultimately, while the specter of civil conflict in Western democracies is a central concern of this chapter, it is not a foregone conclusion. It serves as a warning that the geopolitics of the 21st century will be as much about internal stability and societal resilience as about classic interstate rivalry. The chapters on Digital Battlefield, Terrorism, Inequality, and the USA all interconnect here: they highlight how new technology, new social fractures, and transnational extremist ideologies all converge on the home front. By taking a data-informed, multidisciplinary view – the essence of a data science perspective on geopolitics – policymakers and scholars can better identify emerging fault lines and hopefully act in time to prevent the worst outcomes.

13.6 Conclusion

In conclusion, the new geopolitics of the West is a sobering arena where domestic divides carry global significance. Western democracies must navigate a perilous period of potential internal conflict while retaining the values and cohesion that define them. Whether they succumb to the forces of fragmentation, or renew their democratic contracts, will shape not only their own futures but that of the entire world order. As history teaches, democracies have faltered before, yet they have also shown a capacity for self-correction and endurance. The coming years will test that capacity on an unprecedented scale. It is a test that the West, and all who believe in liberal democracy, cannot afford to fail.

References

• Betz, D. (2025). Civil War Comes to the West, Part II: Strategic Realities. Military Strategy Magazine, 10(2), 6–16. • Fearon, J. D., & Laitin, D. D. (2003). Ethnicity, insurgency, and civil war. American Political Science Review, 97(1), 75–90. • Huntington, S. P. (1996). The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order. New York: Simon & Schuster. • Kalyvas, S. N. (2006). The Logic of Violence in Civil War. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. • Levitsky, S., & Ziblatt, D. (2018). How Democracies Die. New York: Crown. • Norris, P., & Inglehart, R. (2019). Cultural Backlash: Trump, Brexit, and Authoritarian Populism. New York: Cambridge University Press. • Norton, R. J. (2003). Feral cities. Naval War College Review, 56(4), 97–106. • Putnam, R. D. (2000). Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community. New York: Simon & Schuster. • Salehyan, I., & Gleditsch, K. S. (2006). Refugees and the spread of civil war. International Organization, 60(2), 335–366. • Walter, B. F. (2022). How Civil Wars Start: And How to Stop Them. New York: Crown.

[1] [2] [3] [4] [64] This is how democracies die | Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt | The Guardian https://www.theguardian.com/us-news/commentisfree/2018/jan/21/this-is-how-democracies-die [5] [65] What Happens When Democracies Become Perniciously Polarized? | Carnegie Endowment for International Peace https://carnegieendowment.org/research/2022/01/what-happens-when-democracies-become-perniciously-polarized?lang=en [6] [15] [16] Book Review: Cultural Backlash: Trump, Brexit and Authoritarian Populism by Pippa Norris and Ronald Inglehart - LSE Review of Books https://blogs.lse.ac.uk/lsereviewofbooks/2019/06/05/book-review-cultural-backlash-trump-brexit-and-authoritarian-populism-by-pippa-norris-and-ronald-inglehart/ [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] Summary of “Bowling Alone: The Collapse and Revival of American Community” | Beyond Intractability https://www.beyondintractability.org/bksum/putnam-bowling [12] [13] [33] [34] How Civil Wars Start: And How to Stop Them - Walter by Gleditsch – Peace Research Institute Oslo (PRIO) https://www.prio.org/journals/jpr/booknotes/277 [14] [17] [18] [21] [24] [25] [26] [27] [28] [29] [30] [31] [35] [36] [37] [38] [39] [40] [41] [42] [43] [44] [45] [47] [48] [49] [50] [51] [52] [53] [54] [55] [56] [57] [58] [59] [60] [61] [62] [63] Civil War Comes to the West, Part II: Strategic Realities - Military Strategy Magazine https://www.militarystrategymagazine.com/article/civil-war-comes-to-the-west-part-ii-strategic-realities/ [19] [20] Ethnicity, Insurgency, and Civil War | FSI http://cisac.fsi.stanford.edu/publications/ethnicity_insurgency_and_civil_war [22] [23] The Rise of the Feral Adversary – War on the Rocks https://warontherocks.com/2014/11/the-rise-of-the-feral-adversary/ [32] The Logic of Violence in Civil War > Air University (AU) > Online Book Reviews https://www.airuniversity.af.edu/ASPJ/Book-Reviews/Article/1192410/the-logic-of-violence-in-civil-war/ [46] Summary of “The Clash of Civilizations and the Remaking of World Order” | Beyond Intractability https://www.beyondintractability.org/bksum/huntington-clash