The Party of Progress

In August 1972, the Danish lawyer and anti-tax crusader Mogens Glistrup founded a new political party, which he named Fremskridtspartiet, the Progress Party. Glistrup evidently sensed the change of mood in what had until then been one of the most exemplary Scandinavian welfare states, and a year later he won as many as twenty-eight seats in the Danish parliamentary elections. The point of his program that brought him the most support was his promise to cut the defense budget radically. In future it would fund only an answering machine with the message “We surrender.” In Russian.

I was reminded of Glistrup while following the increasingly hysterical debate about the Slovenian defense budget. His idea would bring a tear to the eye of many a Slovenian peace activist. Perhaps the message would just need updating and translating into English, since we know—as Spomenka Hribar likes to stress—that Russia has never in history threatened anyone.

But let us leave the Danes and return to the domestic squabble over money for defense. On the one hand, I fully agree with those who are bothered that Slovenia is committing to raise defense spending to 5 percent. Not because I think security is unimportant. An increasingly dangerous world requires stronger defense capabilities. Deterrence has its price, but it is still considerably lower than the price of a war caused by an insufficiently deterred aggressor. What bothers me above all is how we arrived at this famous five percent. I am not an expert on defense, but as a layman it would seem logical to me to arrive at the figure by making, together with our allies, an assessment of the risks, reviewing what we have and what we lack, how many guns, tanks, drones and battalions we need to be appropriately combat-ready, as it was called in the JNA. Then we add up the numbers, go to Brussels and say, here, this is our assessment. As a non-expert I of course have no idea whether that figure would be higher or lower than five percent, but at least it would be grounded in real defense needs, not merely in a desire to satisfy the caprices of our American son-in-law. The whole thing is unsettling. And the NATO Secretary General’s recent sugary greeting to the US President doesn’t help at all. I’m convinced ChatGPT wrote it. “Write a welcome message to Donald Trump in the style of Donald Trump.” Enter. “We are SO into you.” The problem with Rutte’s strategy of seduction is that it has caused more indignation among Europeans than gratitude from Trump, since it offers no guarantee that Daddy won’t use even harsher words tomorrow. And demand six percent, or sixteen, or sixty. Because he is impulsive and unpredictable. Because he likes groveling. But despises grovelers.

So I understand why the number five raises Slovenians’ blood pressure. But it must also be said that opponents of increasing the defense budget mostly offer no serious alternatives. Instead we get ideological platitudes and emotional foot-stamping, packaged as political positions. If someone said, “We don’t need additional armament because we are safe,” fine. You can agree or disagree, but it is a position you can debate. In a mature democracy, both sides would exchange arguments and try to agree on the way forward.

But here it is different. Slovenian peace activists do not claim that we don’t need weapons because we are safe—but that we are safe because we don’t like weapons. This logic might be taken seriously, but only on the assumption that our unilateral disarmament would inspire imperialists armed to the teeth to such an extent that they would join us on the path of light and leave us in peace. Because we are such nice people. Because we are for peace. Kumbaya. But of course we cannot seriously count on that, which is why this concept is intellectually frivolous and irresponsible in terms of security. The problem is that you can’t even discuss or negotiate about it. Because it is not a political position but an ideological dogma. Frankly, in the competition of ridiculous defense strategies, Glistrup’s answering machine is closer to my heart. At least he was witty. Our peace activists evidently take themselves seriously. And that isn’t so funny.

There is another interesting paradox in the Slovenian security tragicomedy. Opinion polls show that a majority of citizens oppose increasing defense spending. Because they would rather have butter. At the same time, polls also show that Slovenians still support NATO membership by a two-thirds majority—just as at accession. Because the thesis of security without defense evidently doesn’t convince them. Better safe than sorry. Only someone else should pay. The French have a nice expression for this: keeping the butter and the money for the butter. And no, it is not a compliment.

In the end, I understand the confusion in Slovenian public opinion. People in today’s world are rightly bewildered, frightened and angry. They are appalled by what is happening in Gaza, worried about the war in Ukraine, they want peace. That is normal. These feelings must be taken into account and responded to. But not with ideological platitudes, riding on emotions and simplistic solutions to complex questions. Because that is what populists do, and we don’t like populists, do we?

Anyway, this is not a text urging the adoption of five percent for defense, still less the abolition of the defense budget. As I said, I am not an expert. But as a citizen I am bothered by how we discuss and decide such important questions in Slovenia. Frivolously, immaturely and irresponsibly. On one side we have people who get Pavlovian thrills from Trump’s, Netanyahu’s or even Putin’s brave new world; on the other, people who are serious in principle and certainly influential declare that we should leave NATO, because yuck Trump, and even the EU, because yuck von der Leyen. It occurs to no one that we might try to change what bothers us (and there is really a lot of it) together with countries that think like us. To understand that in the dangerous world we live in, to preserve the democratic social model and the values on which we founded our statehood, we need allies. Not daddies—if I may borrow Rutte’s expression—but allies. To finally start behaving like a country that does more than stamp its feet in anger when no one is watching, like a man who dares to bang hard on the table, but only from underneath, so his wife won’t notice. To show the world that we have self-confidence, ideas and a vision regarding our own and common security and other global threats and challenges. But no, we’d rather rage. At each other and inwardly. Because that is easier. And let us not forget that our own state often gets on our nerves too. What if we left that as well? Perhaps we really do need Glistrup’s answering machine. Not only instead of a defense budget, but for all interactions with the outside world. “Dear all, please leave us alone until we have read the documents. And sorry if anything wasn’t right. Kind regards, your Slovenia.”