For several years now, politicians, influencers, and intellectuals from Latin America’s new radical right have been speaking about the importance of the “cultural battle” to recover a sort of perspective lost in the past and to underpin a civilizational project that prioritizes the individual, individual freedom, and the free market above all else.

Probably the first to insist on this idea in the media was Javier Milei, the current president of Argentina, who initially made a name for himself as an economist who had no problem insulting his opponents and defending orthodox neoliberal thought.

At that time, Milei, along with his intellectual allies, called for a stand against a purported culture imposed by so-called left-wing elites who had tarnished common sense, Christian morality, and individual freedom, among many other things.

A few days ago, Colombian President Abelardo de la Espriella called for a radicalization of his “cultural battle” and ordered the removal of dozens of works of art from various museums in order to restore a culture that has been held captive by the left, Marxism, and other dark (or, as Milei himself puts it, “demonic”) forces.

In reality, the move isn’t particularly original. Back in the United States, Pat Buchanan (a close advisor to Nixon and Reagan) had already advocated for and encouraged inflammatory rhetoric to wage a “culture war” and thus defend a culture tarnished by social change. Among the major intellectual inspirers of this doctrine are the American Sam Francis and the Frenchmen Alain de Benoist and Guillaume Faye (albeit with their well-known differences). Even some Germans in the 1930s attempted to make what they called “cultural Bolshevism” the scapegoat for all their ills.

But the push for a “cultural battle” in Latin America had a more interesting rationale. And it is not so much due to a supposed pragmatic interpretation of Antonio Gramsci’s concept of hegemony – which has been distorted by the new radical right, as well as by much of liberalism and social democracy, which understand it solely as “cultural hegemony.”

No, in reality, the intention behind invoking a “culture war” against feminism, abortion rights, progressive governments, left-wing artists, revolutionary intellectuals, etc., is more of a strategic nature.

For those who are actually, as ideologues, behind the “culture war” projects are not Buchanan, Francis, De Benoist, or Faye, but Hayek, Friedman, and the rest of the neoliberal economists.

The truth is that neoliberalism in Latin America during the late 20th and early 21st centuries was both a resounding failure and a magnificent victory. This apparent contradiction is resolved depending on which social class we are discussing. During that time, the most powerful social classes, economically speaking, managed to accumulate an enormous amount of power and resources, the likes of which have rarely been seen in Latin American history.

But such a level of accumulation in societies subjugated by a global imperialist order (such as those in Latin America) necessarily drives the working classes into conditions of material precariousness that are almost unbearable. Mass migration, uprisings, deaths, the loss of a lifetime’s savings, rising crime, and so on were just some of the devastation left in the wake of the neoliberalism driven by the Washington Consensus during that period.

In response to the crisis, several centrist, center-left, and even leftist leaders won elections in the region in quick succession: Chávez in Venezuela, Morales in Bolivia, Fernández in Argentina, Correa in Ecuador, Lula in Brazil, Bachelet in Chile, Mujica in Uruguay, etc. They sought to resolve a capitalist economic crisis within the framework of capitalism itself, resorting to approaches that combined Keynesian measures with legislation designed to protect and expand rights, especially for the most marginalized sectors.

These were times when (not without contradictions with other political forces, including those of a more traditional left) the economies of these countries improved, thanks in part to high commodity prices on the global market. And with public policies that, in many cases, focused on providing aid and social programs, the situation of millions of Latin Americans clearly improved. Between 2000 and 2012 alone, 56 million Latin American citizens managed to rise out of poverty.

Once the storm of discontent against neoliberalism had passed, the ruling classes decided they’d had enough of progressive governments. But to regain absolute control (since they had always maintained the necessary share of power to influence national decisions), they needed to win back the governments, and to do so, they found themselves at a crossroads.

They knew that the central argument against center-left governments could not be based solely on the economic downturn that followed the end of high prices for Latin American natural resources, but that it had to be grounded in something more – something that would come across as novel, radical, and a sort of conservative revolutionary ideology.

And that is how they found in the “culture war” a niche for ideological propaganda that has had a historic impact on Latin America. In addition to the aforementioned criticisms, they succeeded (through their intellectuals, politicians, influencers, media outlets, social media, and so on) in creating a perceived link between progressivism and corruption, between progressivism and organized crime, and, finally, between progressivism and an alleged erosion of individual freedom.

But the truth is that these kinds of strategies can cause political upheaval like that seen in the region in recent years, during which (thanks to the support of national and international tycoons, as well as support from Washington and other governments such as Israel’s) there has been a string of victories for the radical right, which could complete its winning hand next Sunday in Brazil.

But in the long term, neoliberalism cannot (nor does it intend to) overcome the contradiction inherent in an economy of this nature in countries with clear relationships of international domination. Thus, at the height of this new wave of neoliberal right-wing movements, the first cracks in ideological stability are already beginning to appear, precisely in the face of a material reality that offers no respite from political rhetoric.

The situation of millions of Latin Americans (especially the poorest) is rapidly being complicated by a radical increase in the rate of inequality. The promises made by the new right-wing movements to defeat organized crime show no signs of being a reality or of bringing about clear regional change. Perhaps this is what Nietzsche, another great reactionary, meant when he acknowledged that culture is merely the veneer of something deeper. And that veneer is beginning to wear away very slowly – a process that is nonetheless noticeable if one pays attention.

• It looks unassuming, but the Subaru Trailseeker is ridiculously fun to drive. And fast.
• Technically, Subaru classifies this car as a midsize SUV. (Sure, Jan.)
• It's the Subaru-iest of all the vehicles built in partnership with Toyota.

American parking lots are awash with a sea of sameness. There's just a bunch of basic SUVs and pickup trucks.

That makes the wagon-ish 2026 Subaru Trailseeker EV a real eye-catcher. Unlike the homogeneous crossovers rolling up to elementary school pickup lines today, it gets a stretched, long-roof profile and carries a Subaru badge. It looks like a proper successor to the Subaru wagons of yore, like the 2000s Outbacks and Legacys.

Technically, Subaru sees this differently. They classify the Trailseeker as an all-electric midsize SUV — and they do have a point with its 8.5 inches of ground clearance and easy-to-slide-into seats.

But, I mean, come on, look at this thing.

That's a wagon in my book.

I drove the Trailseeker's top Touring trim for about 450 miles to see if it was a worthy antidote to America's great car-design flattening. My tester — complete with premium blue paint, a panoramic glass roof, and radiant leg warmers in the front seat (yes, you read that right) — stickered at $48,400.

And it was pretty wild.

This wagon — sorry, SUV — can really move

I've driven around 80 cars in my career as an auto journalist: EVs, muscle cars, sports cars, big trucks, premium luxury vehicles, etc.

The Trailseeker easily makes my personal list of top 10 fastest vehicles. It can launch from standing to 60 mph in about 4.4 seconds and produces 375 horsepower.

Get behind the steering wheel of this family-wagon-shaped car, and you feel that power at all times. On my highway-dominant drive from New York City to the Washington, DC, area, it quickly dashed by slower traffic and 18-wheelers.

The speed doesn't come at the expense of efficiency or refinement, either.

The Trailseeker returned about 3.7 miles per kWh, giving the battery about 270 miles of juice. While it was whipping past cars on the New Jersey Turnpike, I could still hear back-seat passengers when they spoke.

And, speaking of the back seat, the Trailseeker's long body gives rear passengers an almost comical amount of legroom. Fold those seats down, and my panoramic-roof tester has up to 71.8 cubic feet of cargo space, in case you have to move some furniture around, too.

Its biggest red flag was charging.

I saw speeds peak around 127 kW, which is pretty middling in today's EV age. Subaru says the car can accept up to 150 kW.

Let's compare that to the much higher-priced (but similarly shaped) Lucid Gravity, which is considered America's fastest-charging EV. That one can accept up to 420 kW, adding up to 200 miles of range in under 12 minutes.

My initial fast-charge of the Trailseeker — a top-off kind of stop while I grabbed a coffee — took 21 minutes, charging the car from 49% to 77%.

Is it Subaru-y enough?

Subaru didn't build the Trailseeker alone.

It's the product of Subaru's expanding EV partnership with Toyota. The two companies now sell three closely related EV pairs: Subaru's Solterra, Uncharted, and Trailseeker correspond with Toyota's bZ, C-HR, and bZ Woodland. Next year, the companies are launching mechanically similar three-row EVs, too, with the Toyota Highlander and the Subaru Getaway.

The Trailseeker is easily the Subaru-iest of the bunch, and it's not just because of its wagon-y looks. It gets a dose of Subaru's adventure-seeking vibe, including standard Symmetrical All-Wheel Drive, X-Mode settings for snow and mud, roof rails, and a 3,500-pound towing capacity.

That outdoorsy tuning comes with a trade-off. The Trailseeker felt noticeably firm over broken pavement, especially at lower speeds.

A wagon comeback? Don't hold your breath.

You want a wagon now, right? Isn't this thing so cool?

Well, I'm teasing you. Good luck finding a Trailseeker.

Right now, Subaru has only a 9.7-day supply of the model in dealer lots, per CarGurus data shared with Business Insider. That's well under the industry average of about 70 days' worth of supply.

Kevin Roberts, CarGurus's director of economic and market intelligence, says the low supply isn't a product of high demand. In September, the automaker only sold 849 units, just 1.6% of all Subaru sales in America.

Rather, the low supply is part of an ongoing trend of automakers slowly shipping 2027 model-year vehicles to lots.

As the calendar turns, Roberts says there's little momentum for the wagon body type: "This segment has accounted for less than 1% of new car sales," he said, adding that "the traditional wagon has become increasingly rare in today's new car market."

So, no, the Trailseeker probably isn't about to resurrect the American station wagon.

That's a shame. After 450 miles in one, I'm increasingly convinced that good ones could win over American drivers.