Memories of Democracy

Toward the end of the school year, I was invited to the European School in Strasbourg for a discussion on “Transitions to Democracy,” organized by history teachers for students in the final year of high school. Together with three colleagues from Albania, Romania and Ukraine, I was invited to share with the students and teachers our memories and impressions of the times when the countries we come from made the transition from previous regimes to democracy. It was a Friday afternoon on a hot June day, and the hall was full of seventeen-year-olds who were sweating and conveying through every form of nonverbal communication that their presence was not entirely voluntary. They probably had other plans for the weekend, and besides, the baccalaureate exams were mercilessly approaching—for me personally still one of the most stressful periods of my life.

The stories of my colleagues, who addressed the students before me, were emotional and heartfelt—personal experiences from times that were not easy and that most young people today can hardly imagine. But all three concluded their remarks in more or less the same way: before democracy came it was very hard, and then freedom came. The students sitting in the hall and their peers today live a life the speakers themselves did not know at their age, so they should be grateful.

This last remark about gratitude prompted me to be even more annoying in my own remarks than I usually am. True, my experiences cannot be lumped together with those from Albania, Romania or Ukraine thirty or more years ago. In high school I lived in a country that no longer exists. The regime in Yugoslavia in the 1980s was less repressive and closed than those in my colleagues’ countries. But on the other hand, our former country was also far from being open, free and democratic. My children and their peers, in Slovenia and in other countries, certainly live today in conditions that are considerably kinder—both in terms of personal freedom and in terms of living standards. These have improved substantially for the great majority of people, not only for those privileged ones whose parents work in European institutions. Not quite for everyone, and for many not as much as they would have wished or expected—but still.

Despite all this, I urged my half-attentive audience and their teachers to take to heart that the last thing they should be showing in today’s world is gratitude. To anyone—and especially to their parents’ generation. True, when I was in high school I lived materially worse off than they do, and in a country that, despite the nostalgic interpretations of the past some spread today, was neither democratic nor free. But compared with my children’s generation there was one essential difference: never, not for a moment, did I doubt that the future would be better than the present, and I was absolutely convinced that I myself would be part of that change for the better. That self-confidence and optimism about the future no longer exist today. Not for my generation—and still less for the young. We grew up in a transition toward democracy; your transition is evidently going in the opposite direction. So don’t be grateful—you have every reason and every right to be dissatisfied and angry.

At that moment I noticed that the teachers present had begun shifting nervously from foot to foot, and the principal had begun wiping the sweat from his brow with a trembling hand. They had evidently begun to think that inviting me might not have been the best idea. It became clear to me that, as a responsible parent, I had to explain my words, so as not to be accused of inciting revolt.

Anger is understandable and legitimate, I explained, but without critical thinking it becomes merely an adrenaline shot that someone will sooner or later abuse against you. Nor can critical thinking be reduced merely to showing the middle finger to everything that is currently getting on your nerves. It also requires being critical of yourself and of the facts on the basis of which you form your positions. If you are angry and critical, you have the chance to change the world. If you are only angry, someone else will change the world without you—and against you.

Recent opinion polls and global studies (among others by Cambridge University, the Open Society Foundations and International IDEA) show that dissatisfaction with democracy is growing among young people in many countries, including Western democracies. Younger generations are increasingly expressing a willingness to support strong leaders who would bypass parliamentary mechanisms, while losing trust in the effectiveness and ethics of democratic institutions. In most countries, young people still support parties committed to democratic principles in greater numbers than the population average. But it is also true that support for extremist, nationalist and authoritarian ideas is spreading faster among young people than among the rest of the population. So we will soon reach a point where we can no longer count with certainty on the young to save us from our own flirtation with backwardness, intolerance and hatred.

Reactions to these data on changing political and ideological attitudes among young people vary. Mostly there is concern—entirely justified, of course—but there is also a great deal of sheer dismay and condemnation: spoiled brats, instead of being grateful for what they have. Growing support for authoritarian ideas is attributed to ignorance and disinformation. If only they had the right data and facts, these youngsters would quickly realize that democracy is “super-duper” by far the best social system there is.

Ignorance, including of history—of what happened and what can happen to people, including and especially young people, in authoritarian systems and dictatorships—is of course an important factor. That is why one of the most important answers to these trends should be maximum investment in education. Disinformation is a fact and a problem too. But we must not forget that with disinformation there is not only supply but also demand. The lies and manipulations served to our fellow citizens by wicked Russian trolls are so effective mainly because more and more people actively seek information, ideas and positions they emotionally want and need. That recognize and speak to their anger—without critical thinking.

So we will not be able to stop the decline in support for democracy as a system merely with measures against disinformation—neither among young people nor among their parents. No one will fall back in love with democracy, human rights and the rule of law because of fact-checking alone. We need to ask why people are so angry today. And once we have identified the real reasons—which are mostly social and economic in nature—we will have to find effective answers to them. The key finding of the studies mentioned is not that young people reject democracy as a value, but above all that they no longer believe in the way democracy is actually practiced today. Young people—and not only young people—will again begin to believe that democracy is the “super-duper” coolest social system when they have material proof that this system is willing and able to recognize and take into account their legitimate interests and expectations: regarding education, housing, employment, the environment, security. Regarding the future. People will begin to believe in democracy again when they have proof that politicians who have their mouths full of democratic and humanist values respect and uphold those values not only when it suits them, but always—including and above all when it is hardest. Because that is when it matters most. In Gaza, for example.

Mere indignation at the loss of trust in democracy leads nowhere—or only to worse. “Why doesn’t this spoiled Generation Z like democracy?” Instead of turning up our noses, let us rather think about their experience of it. Young people born at the start of the new millennium have been marked by economic and financial crises, climate change, wars and an epidemic. That is the world they know. It is the only world they know. The confidence in the future with which I grew up has been replaced by uncertainty and fear. And by anger at the helplessness, unwillingness and ineffectiveness of politics in offering adequate solutions to any of these threats. Generation Z. The end of the alphabet. And then they come of age and get the right to vote. And we are appalled because more and more of them use their vote to show us the middle finger.