Get onto your feet – now!
While the tectonic plates below our feet keep shifting, and the global order keeps eroding, Europeans are still punching below their weight. The recent concerted push-back against Trump’s coercive plans for a US-annexation of Greenland illustrate how much Europe can gain from standing up to a bully. Here is my passionate plea for a politics of courage – as the rule and not the exception!
Europe should not be afraid. Not afraid to assume responsibility for its own security. Not afraid to use its economic power. Not afraid of an open rupture with Washington. And, of course, not afraid of Putinism.
However, over past years, Europe’s politics was largely driven by fear. Yet fear is a terrible adviser. It paralyzes thinking and triggers the instinct to retreat or hide. Yet withdrawal does not eliminate the source of fear. On the contrary: it allows it to grow.
Europe’s political leadership, too, has been shaped by fear. Fear of the bully in the White House has led to a mixture of submission and ingratiation — a posture that only reinforces his contempt for Europe. Fear of the violent man in the Kremlin has lead to hesitation, appeasement, and a fixation on avoiding escalation — a strategy that merely emboldens an aggressor pursuing a revisionist, imperial project.
Democracy and the Politics of Fear
Admittedly, some characteristics of democratic systems make them particularly susceptible to fear-driven politics. Politicians operate under constant competitive pressure; elections, approval ratings, and legitimacy are fragile. The fear of losing public support — and thus power — often encourages defensive or opportunistic behavior rather than courage. This tendency is reinforced by the logic of blame: political actors are far more likely to be punished for failure than rewarded for success.
The result is structural risk aversion. Short-term, seemingly safe options are favored over decisions that may appear riskier but promise more sustainable long-term outcomes.
Fear can also be deliberately instrumentalized. Populist parties, in particular, mobilize anxieties about crime, terrorism, migration, or economic decline in order to generate loyalty and consolidate power. Modern media ecosystems amplify perceived threats and crises, fostering an atmosphere of permanent alarm. Under such conditions, political leaders are pushed to react reflexively rather than act autonomously.
Yet politics shaped by fear comes at a high price. Structural, long-term solutions are neglected in favor of immediate constraints. Experimentation and reform are avoided; supposedly “tried and tested” approaches are clung to even when they have long ceased to work. Conformity is rewarded, critical debate discouraged, and pluralism narrowed.
Fear also fuels “us versus them” thinking, undermining cooperation within societies and between states. It fragments the public sphere. Decisions born of fear — preventive wars, mass surveillance, draconian security measures, or appeasement of violent actors — frequently generate the very dangers they were meant to avert.
Fear is politically contagious. If it is not transformed into purposeful action through leadership, but merely managed, it becomes paralyzing. Decisions are postponed, risks externalized, responsibility diffused. The result is not security, but self-deterrence — a pattern that has been visible repeatedly since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.
The Costs of Fear-Driven Politics
History offers abundant evidence of the destructive consequences of fear-based politics.
The appeasement of Nazi Germany is a stark example. Traumatized by the devastation of World War I, European leaders sanctioned territorial concessions in the hope of avoiding another conflict. Fear of the aggressor, combined with a policy of accommodation, paved the way for the catastrophe of World War II.
A second example is the U.S. invasion of Iraq in 2003. In the aftermath of the September 11 attacks, the George W. Bush administration justified the war with claims about threats from weapons of mass destruction — claims later shown to be manipulated. The invasion destabilized Iraq and the wider region for decades and severely damaged U.S. credibility, including within NATO. Its origin lay in fear of terrorism.
Today, across Europe, far-right parties exploit fears of immigration and Islam to generate political support. Alarmist rhetoric about the supposed “annihilation” of European civilization — echoed in the new U.S. security strategy — only lends further momentum to these anti-democratic forces.
From Fear to Responsible Action
Historically, democracies rarely fail because of excessive courage. They fail because dangers are ignored for too long — or because leaders are unwilling to name them out of fear.
A politics of courage does not deny fear. It confronts it – in order to act deliberately and decisively in pursuit of a higher objective. As Franklin D. Roosevelt famously suggested, courage is not the absence of fear, but the recognition that something else matters more.
A politics of courage is value-based. Even under pressure, it remains guided by principles such as justice, dignity, and the rule of law. It rests on the conviction that inaction can be ethically worse than the risks of action. It assumes that political agency matters — that the future is shaped by what we do today. Its horizon extends beyond narrow self-interest and short-term advantage toward the higher common good.
A politics of courage confronts reality honestly. It identifies dangers without exaggeration or manipulation, names uncertainties, and accepts political or personal costs in order to do what is right rather than what is easy. Above all: risk management is understood simultaneously as opportunity management.
Instead of symbolic quick fixes, it invests in solutions that address root causes. It embraces a long-term perspective and accepts short-term political or economic costs in order to secure durable outcomes beyond electoral cycles.
Fear is translated into responsible action by pairing clear communication of threats with credible courses of action for governments, institutions, and citizens alike. Society is treated not as a manipulable mass, but as a community of responsible adults. Acceptance is generated through transparency, fairness, and shared responsibility.
A politics of courage exercises power with restraint, deploying extraordinary measures only when necessary and always within the bounds of democratic accountability, pluralism, and the rule of law. At the same time, courage is a prerequisite for democratic self-assertion. Without it, democracy is merely administered — not defended.
Models of Courageous Leadership
History offers powerful examples of courageous leadership.
Franklin D. Roosevelt embodied courage as strategic foresight and patient mobilization against prevailing public sentiment. Through his “Four Freedoms” speech and his famous fireside chats, he prepared institutions, the economy, and society for uncomfortable truths, neutralizing fear before it could become paralyzing.
Winston Churchill exemplified courage as radical honesty in the face of existential threat. In his first speech as prime minister in June 1940, he offered “blood, toil, tears, and sweat,” refusing the false safety of accommodation. By naming danger without euphemism, he transformed fear into collective resilience.
Since 2022, Volodymyr Zelenskyy has embodied courage as perseverance under existential threat. At personal risk, he has kept Ukraine united, consistently combining honest communication about danger with clear calls to action — transforming national fear into domestic and international resolve.
What unites these figures is that they were not governed by fear. They transformed fear into political agency. By this standard, Europe’s political leadership fares poorly.
Trusting Society
One of the central misunderstandings of modern democracy is the conflation of leadership with mood management. Polling, focus groups, and real-time social-media feedback suggest that politics should merely reflect prevailing opinions. That is not leadership; it is adaptation.
Courageous leadership begins where public discourse is not only measured but shaped. It provides orientation, frames interpretation, and works through conflict rather than avoiding it. Those who merely react cede the initiative to actors who simplify, polarize, or exploit fear.
Courageous politicians do not deny fear; they confront reality, also when this is uncomfortable. They name risks and costs, and outline paths forward. Instead of tactical opportunism, they demonstrate conviction, consistency, and responsibility. Courageous leadership trusts society rather than infantilizing it. It believes society can cope with also hard realities.
But responsibility does not lie with leaders alone. Open societies must value resilience and long-term responsibility over short-term popularity. They must accept that serious leadership will not always be liked — and that appeasement is no substitute for honesty.
Political education, media, and civil society must preserve spaces where complexity is tolerated and conflict debated constructively. A politics of courage requires citizens who understand that responsibility is never risk-free.
Europe Between Strength and Self-Doubt
Objectively, Europe has ample reason to act with confidence. The EU, together with the United Kingdom and Norway, encompasses more than 500 million people — more than the United States and far more than Russia. This population is highly urbanized, well educated, and deeply integrated into global value chains.
Economically, Europe belongs to the top tier. With a combined GDP of roughly $26 trillion, it trails the United States (with some $ 30 trillion) but significantly exceeds China (ca. $ 19 trillion) and vastly outpaces Russia (ca. $2.5 trillion), whose economic output is comparable to that of Italy.
European NATO members collectively field around 2.1 million soldiers — more than either the United States or Russia. Europe’s weaknesses lie less in numbers than in capability and coordination — deficits that can be addressed through political will.
Yet Europe consistently operates below its potential. It emphasizes its limitations, fears escalation, remains trapped in historical guilt debates, favors political comfort, and lacks geostrategic leadership. The real danger is not external defeat, but self-deterrence. Those who fail to articulate and use their own strength invite others to test it.
Russia’s leverage lies less in material superiority than in its willingness to take risks and exploit uncertainty. Europe’s weakness, by contrast, is largely psychological. Where Europe hesitates, Moscow creates facts — even when the balance of power suggests otherwise.
Europe therefore faces a strategic choice. It can continue to downplay its strength and practice self-restraint — or it can act with clarity and take responsibility. Courage would not mean confrontation for its own sake, but the willingness to use power as a necessary instrument of democratic self-assertion.
A European politics of courage would not seek to shape the global order alone — but it would be prepared and willing to defend it.