Matjaž Gruden

Social State, Constitution, and Democracy

/ Translated from Slovenian / Remembering Democracy

Slovenian original: Socialna država, ustava in demokracija

The Slovenian text is the original. This English version was translated with the help of AI.

In the United States, differences between political ideologies are typically measured by levels of fiscal and social conservatism or liberalism. With some terminological adjustments—since many on the European left or right react strongly to the term liberalism, in any form or context—we can essentially define ideological currents in Europe similarly.

The further right one moves, the stronger fiscal and social conservatism becomes; the further left, the more policies emphasize solidarity, inclusion, concern for all social groups, the public interest, and corresponding tax policy. Many therefore conclude that entrepreneurs fare better under right-wing governments, while people with lower incomes, students, pensioners, and the socially vulnerable do better under left-wing ones.

That’s generally true. Generally, because right-wing populism is not averse to distributing public funds—but usually does so out of political self-interest rather than to strengthen the welfare state. Also because comparisons between left and right over time reveal, for example, that workers, pensioners, or students in Germany often fared better under the conservative Konrad Adenauer than decades later under the social democrat Gerhard Schröder. Similar conclusions could be drawn across much of Western Europe.

The reason is simple. The post-war European social model—which also underpins European integration—was largely established by conservative leaders and Christian democrats. It was based on the welfare state: a society whose economic, fiscal, institutional, and political systems were rooted in solidarity and the social well-being of all citizens.

This doesn’t mean that political consensus existed on all key societal issues. Far from it. Left-wing parties then, as now, emphasized greater solidarity and redistribution of wealth. But even right-wing leaders understood and supported the imperative that society must care for all citizens.

The European welfare state was not just inclusive—it was founded on public healthcare, education, and support for the socially vulnerable. This approach was driven not only by moral convictions but also by rationality and pragmatism. European leaders of all stripes had firsthand experience with the consequences of economic crises, social inequality, polarization, and the build-up of public anger. They remembered 1930s Europe and faced the rise of the Soviet Union—whose inefficacy in creating a workers’ paradise they could not yet foresee.

Today, some use this fact to argue that post-war conservatives built the welfare state only out of fear of communism. Even if that were true, it doesn’t invalidate the Western welfare state model. It simply shows that Soviet communism was a disastrous response to a genuine societal need for social justice and stability—needs without which progress and sustainable prosperity are impossible.

Post-war European politicians also understood the deep connection between the welfare state and political order. After the trauma of Nazism and World War II, that order was founded on liberal democratic values—human rights, political freedoms, pluralism, and democratic rule of law.

Democratic rule of law means not only that citizens must obey laws (a principle found in authoritarian regimes too), but also that the state must be held accountable and operate within clearly defined limits. Liberal democracy’s values should not be a matter of political polarization but a shared civilizational foundation for pluralistic democratic society. And they can only be realized within a socially just society.

This understanding of the indivisibility of political freedoms and social rights is reflected in most democratic constitutions and international human rights instruments. The preamble of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights (adopted in 1948 in Paris) affirms the commitment to "fundamental human rights, the dignity and worth of the human person, and the equal rights of men and women," as well as to “social progress and better standards of life in larger freedom.”

This doctrine of indivisibility led to the expansion of the European Convention on Human Rights with the European Social Charter (1961, revised in 1996). The logic is simple: freedom of expression or religion means little to someone who is homeless or hungry.

The Charter expanded international protection to include housing, health, education, workers' rights, employment, reduced working hours, equal pay, parental leave, social security, and protections against poverty, exclusion, and discrimination—including for migrants and people with disabilities.

This wasn’t a leftist revolution, but a consensus among ideological opposites united by liberal democratic values.

Of course, not all European countries embraced this indivisibility. While membership in the European Convention on Human Rights is mandatory for Council of Europe members, only 35 of 46 have ratified the 1961 Social Charter. Just 16 accept collective complaints, which give the Charter real enforcement power. Even fewer have ratified the 1996 revised version.

Why? There are many reasons—but a key one is Margaret Thatcher. Along with Ronald Reagan, she seized the fall of the Soviet Union as a chance to break free from the “shackles” of social justice. In came neoliberalism: full freedom for capital, minimal taxation, minimal state, and minimal public sector.

Her famous line—“There is no such thing as society, only individuals”—captured this mindset. And her influence extended beyond conservatives to centrists and center-left leaders like Schröder and Blair, and others who explored the “third way.”

Since the 1980s, we’ve been waiting for wealth to “trickle down” from the few who hoard it in neoliberal economies. It hasn’t. What we’ve gotten instead are disillusioned masses, growing inequality, social tensions, and illiberal populism.

So where does Slovenia stand in all this?

Formally, we are among the countries committed to the indivisibility of political and social rights. We’ve ratified both European Social Charters. Article 2 of our Constitution declares that Slovenia is a social state. But our commitment is mostly formal.

In practice, the social state has become a subject of political polarization. While in much of Europe—even among politicians—people are realizing that wealth doesn’t trickle down but only accumulates upward, and that neoliberalism threatens European democracy, many in Slovenia still cling to clichés about the invisible hand of the market and the delicate birds of capital. Any advocacy for social justice is immediately branded as extreme leftism or communism.

A false conflict is fabricated between the social state and a successful market economy. Investors are sought who care only about executive pay—not infrastructure, schools, healthcare, environmental protection, or anything a serious long-term investor should value.

The height of absurdity was an attempt to declare two left-leaning parties unconstitutional for advocating implementation of Article 2 of the Constitution. Not that there's anything wrong with caring about constitutionality—far from it. We certainly shouldn’t let political parties freely undermine citizens’ constitutionally guaranteed rights.

Fortunately, we have a Constitutional Court that can distinguish legal substance from populist weeds.

That said, proposals by the political left to strengthen the social state are not the only legitimate ones. It’s perfectly valid to disagree with them. Article 2 of the Constitution, like others, allows multiple paths—so long as none violate the Constitution or prevent its values from being realized.

In other words, social justice does not justify abolishing property rights or free enterprise. But the reverse is also true: property and enterprise must not be pursued in ways that dismantle the social state.

Balancing constitutional values requires legal literacy, political culture, and commitment to democratic principles. As long as we remain within constitutional bounds, we can and should debate freely—without insults, disqualifications, or hysterical appeals to the court.

In a democracy, it’s the voters who decide how constitutional values should be pursued.

Long live the social state, individual freedoms, and pluralistic democracy.