Russian intellectual elites have long engaged with the idea that Europe finds itself in a state of moral and cultural decline, which they project would eventually lead to its societal downfall. Countless Pan-Slav writers of 19th-century tsarist Russia, the likes of Fyodor Dostoevsky, Konstantin Leontyev and Nikolai Danilevsky, have contributed to this discourse. Similar sentiments, however, have also been expressed within Europe itself. In his seminal work “The Decline of the West”, German philosopher Oswald Sprengler emerged from the ruins of the First World War and was strongly influenced by these preceding Russian thinkers. This idea of a ‘West in Decline’ has been kept alive by less original characters — and Soviet and Russian leadership in particular has entertained it throughout contemporary history.
A politician who excels in promulgating this notion is Vladimir Putin. He repeatedly conjures up the image of a morally decadent Western society as part of a bigger goal: weakening Europe’s opposition to his political ambitions. So far, the prophecy of the West’s decline has gone unproven. Of course, the fact that some intellectuals got it wrong 150 years ago does not automatically invalidate similar voices currently disseminating from Russia. If anything, it calls for cautious engagement with the arguments presented today.
A Distracting Tale Well Received
When Russian leaders talk of a ‘decadent Europe’, they typically use the word in the sense of its common definition: that of moral and societal decline. In essence, they argue that the liberal strains in society have overextended and are now destroying the fruits they bore. By pushing the rationalist and individualist aspects of liberal thought, the societal glues of tradition, family, religion, and the like have all but been dissolved, the argument goes. In Europe, populist parties parrot these lines, and many are willing to listen.
Against the background of a global pandemic, Russia’s war of aggression, and political instability — along with economic stagnation — the narrative of a failing Europe encounters nutritious soil in our democracies. No climate favours populist parties more than that of global instability. What underlies their popularity is a desire for strong and decisive action in the midst of seemingly endless debate and bureaucratic hurdles. They strive on highlighting the weaknesses of an open democratic society but hardly propose viable long-term solutions which fit the existing constitutional frameworks, let alone human decency.
It is no coincidence that these parties have long entertained close ties with Russia — many of their objectives align. Russia poses as the advocate for a new era of conservatism: a strongman vision of stable political leadership and societal illiberalism. Given the actions directed at us from the Russian state though, one would be a fool to believe that Russia has any interest in saving a declining European society.
What Putin and his ideologues are trying to convey when they speak about a decadent West, what they insinuate and want to disseminate, is that liberal democracy is weak. It is not, however, societal liberalism that will bring about Europe’s decline.
The Roman Empire did not merely fall due to the excessive lifestyle of its elite (see Russian oligarchy). In the same manner, Europe will not either. What really is troublesome for the stability of our societies, however, is the decline of trust in democratic processes and institutions. It is the loss of legitimacy of government action, across all ideological divisions, that endangers the political system as we know it. And it is this erosion which Putin aims to foster, with the goal of weakening European opposition to his imperialistic ambitions.
Debunking the Narrative
It is of utmost urgency that this narrative be punctured. The fact that many people feel drawn to the tale of a decadent, dysfunctional society is testimony that divisions have cut deep into our societal fabric. The concerns of all members of society need to be discussed openly and evaluated within our constitutional frameworks. Liberal democracies need to demonstrate that they can deliver in a society through constructive yet frictional dialogue, where everyone can coexist in respectful acceptance.
A main line of attack brought forward against liberal democracy is that it lacks resolve. Nevertheless, the argument can also be made that liberal democracies are strong exactly because their decisions include the buy-in of a broader portion of society — admittedly often at a slower pace.
It is true that complacency and fear of declining standards of living in Western democracies is what has held back resolve. But since when are concerns and fears not legitimate sources of political action? It is the people’s legitimate concern to worry about their life trajectory, and it is good, not bad, that their governments are forced to follow suit. In contrast, Russian citizens had no say in the decision to invade Ukraine, and the Belarusians could not hinder the Russian army from using their territory to launch attacks on a peaceful neighbour. Why? Because of political repression and the absence of proper democratic processes.
In Europe, political unity and resolve against Russia have been arguably weak for a number of reasons. Apart from the fear of escalating the conflict to combat an imperialist dictator, the continent has found itself in a tight economic stranglehold. Much of Europe’s economic growth has been fuelled by cheap and accessible Russian energy. The Russian state, on the other hand, has been betting on the lassitude of European consumers and businesses to recover their lost markets and dealings. The economic costs of the sanctions and the quest to diversify energy sources have impacted European global competitiveness and spurred domestic inflation. Given the bleak economic outlook and the vain attempts to find short-term fixes for deep structural economic problems, it is completely understandable that populist parties’ calls for change are finding receptive ears among weary European populations.
This inability to show resolve, to stand up for conviction and sacrifice personal comfort, is precisely the manifestation of the West’s moral decadence, the Russian argument goes. That argument is flawed. It fails to recognize the real support provided by Europeans in recent years.
By continuing military aid for Ukraine, Europe does, of course, engage in a war effort. At the same time, it attempts to bolster its own position and buy time for rearmament in the face of possible future Russian aggression. The alternative to this effort, however, would be even bleaker. Withdrawing military support would mean leaving the Ukrainian people to face American unpredictability paired with Russian expansionism. Supporting a European nation in its fight for survival, while the aggressor airs genocidal maniacs on prime-time state TV, is surely not a manifestation of moral decadence. Neither is hosting millions of refugees and providing them with access to healthcare and education. An aggressor that claims the moral high ground is beyond hypocritical — it would almost be humorous if the consequences were not so grave. No one could end the war as quickly as Putin.
Still — and this must be said as well — when no way forward can be found, there must be negotiations. Putin’s imperialist war was not worth the life of a single Ukrainian or Russian in the first place. This is all the more true now when a tough bargain might be found at the negotiation table. The time for compromise has come, and thus also where European morals must be relegated to the second row. To find a lasting solution and secure peace, we have to talk to the aggressor and make certain concessions. Putin better hope that Europe is decadent enough for that.
Author: Thomas Thurnher
Editor: Sergio Uribe Henao
Photo Credit: “Runde goldfarbene 2 Euro Münze” by Immo Wegmann (2019, February 14) on Unsplash.
