Orphaned values

In December 2010, 26-year-old street vendor Tarek al-Mohamed Bouazizi set himself on fire in protest against local government corruption in the Tunisian city of Ben Arous. His death sparked the Arab Spring—waves of protests and uprisings that spread across much of the Arabic-speaking world. We know how it ended. In Tunisia—the only country where a transition to constitutional democracy occurred—President Kais Saied is now consolidating all power through constitutional reform. Elsewhere, the outcomes were even worse—and bloodier.

Yet in its early days, the Arab Spring brought hope for freer, more just societies in that part of the world. Messages of support, solidarity, and aid poured in. One of the first to respond was the Council of Europe, not just because these events were happening in our neighborhood, but because the Arab Spring reflected a yearning for societal change rooted in values that the Council itself upholds.

In May 2011, the Council of Europe was preparing for its annual ministerial conference in Istanbul. Incidentally, this was the same conference where the Convention on Preventing and Combating Violence Against Women and Domestic Violence (Istanbul Convention) was opened for signature.

In response to the developments across the Mediterranean, member states called for a decision on how to support neighboring countries. Everything was happening at the last minute. As an advisor in the Secretary General’s cabinet, I was tasked over the weekend with drafting a political declaration. Since I was on vacation in Ljubljana at the time, the text—two and a half pages defining the Council’s policy toward neighboring countries—was written in my mother’s kitchen in the suburbs.

The declaration defined the Council’s role as offering flexible, context-sensitive support based on the needs of those countries. I included a sentence stating that cooperation with the Council of Europe could not be value-neutral, but should aim to strengthen pluralistic democracy, human rights, and the rule of law.

That’s where things got complicated. Some countries felt the wording was too vague and demanded that any neighboring country wishing to cooperate with the Council explicitly commit to “respecting European values.” Likely well-intentioned, they were nonetheless deaf to concerns about how such phrasing might be received—especially in countries with bitter colonial histories, where the phrase “European values” doesn’t carry the same connotations.

Even more problematic is the fact that the widely used term “European values”—employed by EU institutions, the media, and the public alike—runs counter to the idea that these values are supposed to be universal. Recall that the United Nations adopted the Universal Declaration of Human Rights two years before the Council of Europe adopted its own European Convention.

Claiming ownership over the concept of human rights is counterproductive—it plays directly into the hands of those who depict democratic values as Western imperialist manipulation. This is compounded by the West’s own hypocrisy and inconsistency in upholding those values—both internally and abroad—over the decades.

A tragic paradox of that period, now seen in hindsight, is that many of the same European countries demanding commitments to “European values” from their Mediterranean neighbors were themselves, through misguided responses to the financial crisis and the dismantling of the social welfare state (a precondition for democratic values), laying the groundwork for the rise of populism and domestic assaults on those same values.

Then came the moral collapse during the refugee crisis—a collapse that is still unfolding. Today, the “values” defining Europe are less and less democracy, human rights, and the rule of law, and more and more nationalism, intolerance of minorities, and authoritarianism.

Those who say that we cannot understand—let alone counter—nationalist populism, especially in its violent form as seen in Russia’s aggression against Ukraine, without critically examining Western policies, are absolutely right. Over recent history, Western actions have often undermined the very values it professes to champion.

Evidence that we haven’t yet reached a turning point—or have moved further away from one—can be seen in some of the responses to the war in Ukraine. In order to stop one despot from using energy as a weapon, we turn to Saudi Arabia for help. Out of the frying pan and into the fire.

The moral outrage over the murder of Anna Politkovskaya and other Russian journalists doesn’t quite square with handshakes exchanged with the butcher of Jamal Khashoggi—just one of many examples.

Yet I cannot agree with those who fail to recognize (at least in part) the current global malaise as a consequence of Western leaders’ failures—and instead fall for the populist trick of blaming democratic values themselves for problems born of those leaders’ hypocrisy and neglect.

Those who reject liberal democracy because of Trump should, for consistency’s sake, stop believing in socialism because of Stalin. The narrative that liberal democracy is merely a tool of American hegemony and that Putin’s authoritarian, nationalist regime will create a fairer world order is a recipe for disaster—and bloodier conflicts ahead.

A Russian victory in Ukraine would not just be a win for Putin, but a triumph for Trump and Trump-like figures around the world—regardless of their local differences—who share a vision of a global order based on raw power, hate, neoliberal or oligarchic plunder, the destruction of the welfare state, the environment, and international peace.

In Slovenia’s increasingly bitter and polarized debate on Ukraine, the question of fundamental civilizational values is mostly absent. Arguments are rooted less in facts and more in emotionally charged "truths" gathered online. We’re shifting from a fact-based community to what George W. Bush’s advisor Karl Rove once proudly called the “faith-based community.” First with vaccines, now with Ukraine.

In this swirl of emotion-driven discourse, we see bizarre alliances and arguments that would be laughable in another context. Anti-imperialists quoting Kissinger to downplay Russia’s aggression. Conservatives citing Žižek to condemn Putin—despite their ideological proximity. People so anti-American that they excuse everything Putin does, even the very same abuses they denounce in the U.S. or at home.

An increasing number now see Putin’s nationalist, regressive vision as a justified response to the West’s liberal “decadence.” We must start talking about values again—based on facts, not feelings or conspiracy theories.

Instead of excusing or enabling the blatant trampling of universal values, we must focus on resisting those who most endanger them—whether that’s Putin and his ilk or Western leaders whose hypocrisy, greed, and opportunism sabotage their credibility.

Maybe we should return to the United Nations Charter, which established these values as the foundation for global coexistence, stability, and peace. If we’ve failed to uphold them so far, it’s not because the values were wrong—but because our commitment to them was weak.

The UN Charter and the Universal Declaration of Human Rights were born from a world war. Surely, they can help prevent the next one—if we honor them consistently.

By the way, Article 51 of the UN Charter affirms every member state’s right to self-defense in the event of armed attack. Perhaps the first step toward a better world would be to fully respect that legal right—for Ukraine—and support its exercise of that right as dictated by international law, collective security, dignity, justice, and reason.