On the beaches of Florida, you’ll find informational pillars showing the territorial and economic losses from rising water levels due to climate change. Over a third of countries worldwide, particularly island and coastal nations, are concerned about rising sea levels. While scientists are discussing the economic, migration, and security challenges, some politicians and segments of the public are still debating whether this is all just a liberal myth.
A very similar situation unfolds in the democratic world, where some of the naïve and opportunistic downplay the threat of autocratic encroachment. For some, this offers a sense of comfort in denial; for others, it’s about personal gain. The optimists, deeply entrenched in their beliefs, cling to historical lessons, hoping for a smooth trajectory toward democratic expansion. In stark contrast, a radical faction that equates order with authoritarianism welcomes the erosion of pro-democratic ideals.
While the diversity of opinions in certain countries reflects their democratic nature, in autocracies, dissenting voices are usually heard only from abroad or occasionally from prison. As democracies engage in lengthy debates over compromises and the advantages of economic cooperation for everyone, citizens of authoritarian states are indoctrinated with the “correct viewpoint” and told to “unite and tighten their belts” to confront perceived enemies.
Ukrainians have experience on both ideological sides and understand well that authoritarian narratives are not merely society-forming myths; they act as corrective barrages before a torrent of fire aimed at the destruction of designated foes. Meanwhile, the collective West still struggles to demonstrate unity in countering the evident threats that inertia has long allowed to be ignored.
It seems that the democratic world must now assess the scale of the increasing threats of democracies losing their “territories,” much like the markers that stand on the beaches of Florida. The aggression against Ukraine has already become undeniable evidence of a changing “geopolitical climate.”
The manifesto of democracy’s fading golden age is Francis Fukuyama’s widely acclaimed book, The End of History, which was inspired by the collapse of the Soviet Union. Its central idea posits that Western liberal democracy not only triumphed in the Cold War but also represented the pinnacle of millennia of human development.
Now, nearly 30 years later, Fukuyama acknowledges that some of his expectations were unrealistic. He reflects on the missteps made by Western experts and White House advisors involved in crafting reform plans for former communist countries. In the wake of the invasion of Ukraine, Fukuyama and his colleagues at the Stanford Center for Democracy, Development, and the Rule of Law are studying Ukraine’s experience, as it now “stands at the forefront of the global struggle for democracy.”
The excessive optimism of an era when the collective West faced no real geopolitical rivals has shaped U.S. foreign policy for decades. Today, we see developing democracies shifting toward authoritarianism, as in Hungary and Slovakia; entrenched autocracies like Russia becoming more radicalised and turning into totalitarian states; while extremist regimes such as North Korea and Iran growing increasingly bold.
A comparison of Democracy Index data from 2006 and 2023 reveals a widespread reluctance to embrace democracy as the ultimate path to civilisational progress and prosperity. This conclusion is based on the Economist Intelligence Unit’s index and expert evaluations, which assess the extent to which citizens can elect their leaders through free and fair elections, enjoy civil liberties, hold democracy in higher regard than other systems, actively participate in political life, and rely on a government that genuinely serves their interests.
“Even where backsliding does not cause democracy to break down or be replaced by some form of dictatorship, it involves a significant erosion in the quality and stability of democratic governance,” notes Kenneth Roberts, co-author of the 2024 study “Democratic Backsliding, Resilience, and Resistance,” conducted by researchers from Cornell University.
Based on the 38 recent cases of varying degrees of democratic decline, the researchers identified four main patterns: executive aggrandisement (Benin, Hungary, Nicaragua, Turkey), where the ruling party limits checks and balances and suppresses opposition; elite collusion (Indonesia, Guatemala, Peru), where political and business allies bring opposition figures and independent media onside through financial incentives; self-coup (Tunisia), where leaders themselves shut down or sideline democratic institutions like courts and legislatures to centralise power; and resilience (Malawi, Moldova, South Korea), where institutions and citizens push back against democratic rollbacks.
The recent elections in Moldova, where diaspora votes effectively secured the referendum results on the country’s European future, serve as a reminder that democracy isn’t a given—it’s built through citizens’ daily involvement. The situation in Georgia after the parliamentary elections is even more dramatic.
After the Central Election Commission declared the pro-Russian party “Georgian Dream” as the winner of the parliamentary elections, President Salome Zourabichvili called on the public to reject the results and protest in the streets. Two opposition parties have since announced they will boycott the new parliament’s activities.
Ukrainians have a long history of standing up for their democratic choices. The war with Russia isn’t just about territory or resources; it’s fundamentally about a social contract that acknowledges self-evident truths—that all people are created equal and have inalienable rights, including life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Governments are meant to protect these rights, deriving their power from the consent of the governed, a principle that was established in the United States Declaration of Independence back in 1776.
Of course, as the saying goes, values won’t put bread on the table. However, active economic cooperation with ideological opponents like China and Russia hasn’t led to stability; instead, it has only fueled their geopolitical ambitions by boosting their economic and military power. In a world where only 2 out of 8 billion people live in liberal or electoral democracies, it’s neither practical nor necessary to establish economic ties based solely on ideology. That being said, strengthening countries capable of genuinely challenging the rules set by the West is both reckless and dangerous.
While BRICS may not yet rival the collective West as a global economic force, and short-term de-dollarisation seems unlikely, the trends are clear. Currently, BRICS countries account for about 26% of global GDP, up from 15% when the group was established in 2006. This growth is largely driven by the expanding economies of China and India rather than the addition of new members. Together, BRICS countries make up roughly 40% of the world’s population.
As a bloc, BRICS aims not only to enhance economic integration among its members but also to establish a multipolar world order, positioning itself as a counterbalance to Western institutions like the IMF and the World Bank. Additionally, Russia is exploring cryptocurrency transactions as a means to facilitate de-dollarisation.
At the same time, a military anti-Western bloc is forming among China, Russia, North Korea, and Iran. While still informal, its existence is becoming increasingly evident. The involvement of North Korean personnel in Russia’s war against Ukraine serves as a stark reminder that what once seemed impossible, unheard of, or unimaginable can quickly turn into a frightening reality.
Amidst this rebellion by autocrats against the rules-based world order that embodies Western values, there is a growing need to reform international institutions. Another unsettling example is UN Secretary-General António Guterres’s visit to Russia this month, where he attended the BRICS summit. During the summit, Guterres, who had previously turned down an invitation to the Global Peace Summit organised by Ukraine, addressed the issue of a multipolar world order and alternatives to Western alliances.
The consequences of Putin’s visit to Mongolia, which has failed to meet its obligations as a member of the International Criminal Court (ICC) and did not arrest the individual for whom the ICC issued a warrant for war crimes, were limited to yet another statement of “deep concern.” While the ICC can refer the case to the Assembly of States Parties for official condemnation, it lacks the means to enforce its decisions.
One may ponder Russia’s economic weakness compared to the West for quite some time, but it’s important not to underestimate its success in pinpointing the West’s vulnerabilities and diminishing trust in its ability to uphold its own values.
However, the most dangerous catalyst for the decline of democracy worldwide could be Ukraine’s failure to win this war. Francis Fukuyama has noted that intellectual vanity is one reason why some in the West dismiss the idea of Ukraine’s victory as impossible, undermining support for its struggle for democracy.
As Dag Livermore from the Centre for European Policy Analysis warns, if Ukraine remains on its current strategic trajectory, Kyiv could lose the war sometime in 2025. Disheartening outcomes could even be presented as a victory, as Ukraine would still control 75% of its territory and remain a sovereign state. Yet, any resolution that bends to Putin’s demands would signify a critical turning point in the geopolitical landscape, reshaping power dynamics and altering the course of international relations.
