By coincidence, my wife and I were in Prague when Tomáš reached out to me. I wasn’t previously aware of Kontexty, but Tomáš explained that one of the journal’s co-founders was Petr Fiala, the current Prime Minister of the Czech Republic. The journal had grown out of the work of the late British philosopher Sir Roger Scruton, who helped the cause of freedom by secretly teaching in Cold War-era Czechoslovakia. As an avid reader of Scruton’s work, I was honoured by the connection and delighted to agree to the translation.
The timing of the essay’s publication this week could hardly be more pointed. It coincides with populist billionaire Andrej Babiš winning the Czech parliamentary elections with a resounding 35% of the vote, positioning himself to form a coalition with far-right parties.
Babiš is a self-described “Trumpist” who wants to end military aid to Ukraine, roll back EU powers, and promises a “Czechs first” approach. He defeated the centre-right coalition government led by Fiala. Viktor Orbán immediately hailed the result: “Truth has prevailed. A big step for the Czech Republic, good news for Europe.”
The politics are unusual. Fiala’s government has brought inflation down to around 2% and maintained unemployment at just 2.6% – among the lowest in the EU. It has strengthened NATO commitments and led international efforts to arm Ukraine. Yet voters chose change.
The reasons appear less economic than cultural and geopolitical: concerns about Ukrainian refugees and war-weariness over Ukraine aid – concerns amplified, it seems, by Russian disinformation.
When Tomáš emailed me this week to tell me about my essay’s publication, I’d just been reflecting on Babiš’s victory. From this distance, it looks rather like voters chose a strongman’s promises over liberalism’s open society.
When Theory Meets Reality
My essay argues that critics on the populist Right misdiagnose liberalism’s current malaise when they call for a return to “strong gods” – shared sacred commitments to religion or nation they hope will bind societies together. But the real problem, I suggest, isn’t that liberalism is too open or too pluralistic. It’s twofold: we’ve neglected the civic, institutional, and cultural foundations that give openness depth, and policy failures – especially in education and housing – have left too many behind, eroding trust in liberal institutions.
The Czech election offers a sobering case study. Babiš isn’t explicitly offering religious certainty. But he’s providing exactly what the “strong gods” advocates promise: simple answers, nationalist identity, strongman leadership. His campaign pledged higher wages and pensions, lower taxes, and an end to “austerity.” Plus freedom from the exhausting work of liberal citizenship. No more agonising over aid to Ukraine. No more navigating EU complexities. Just a billionaire businessman who promises to put “Czechs first.”
This is the seductive appeal my essay warned about. Karl Popper understood what he called the “strain of civilisation.” It’s the psychological burden that freedom places on individuals who must think and choose for themselves rather than submit to authority. Liberal democracy demands individual judgment, tolerance of dissent, and restraint of power. These run counter to our evolutionary inheritance, which favours conformity and deference in small tribal groups.
Reports suggest Russian propaganda played a significant role in the campaign. The Czech Online Risks Research Centre found that Czech-language TikTok accounts reaching millions of viewers “systematically spread pro-Russian propaganda and support anti-system parties.” The European Commission held an emergency meeting with TikTok in the days leading up to the election. The platform then removed “several bots.”
This matters because humans are tribal creatures. Our deepest intuitions are shaped by loyalty and shared identity. When disinformation exploits these instincts, it doesn’t just spread falsehoods. It makes the demanding work of liberal citizenship feel unnecessary, even naive.
Scruton’s Legacy, Tested
There’s something particularly poignant, then, about Kontexty publishing a defence of liberalism at this moment. The journal’s intellectual lineage runs directly through Scruton’s underground resistance to communist totalitarianism. Scruton understood both the fragility of liberal order and the human hunger for belonging and purpose.
Yet Scruton also understood what today’s authoritarians ignore: that tradition and belonging cannot be manufactured by state decree. Imposed unity, whether religious or nationalist, carries dangers that organic civil society was meant to avoid. We’ve seen this pattern before – and we see it repeating today. In Erdoğan’s Turkey. In Orbán’s Hungary. And in Trump’s increasingly sectarian rhetoric.
The Czech voters haven’t chosen totalitarianism. But they’ve chosen a leader whom Orbán and Slovakia’s Robert Fico celebrate as one of their own. A leader who may draw the Czech Republic into their orbit of EU mavericks refusing support for Ukraine.
What It Means
My essay wasn’t a prediction. It was a warning. Liberal societies don’t fail because they’re too open. They fail when bad policy makes liberal promises ring hollow, and when their beneficiaries neglect the foundations that make openness work: civic education, institutional maintenance, cultural confidence, and the simple willingness to defend liberal norms when they come under pressure.
The Czech election reminds us that the liberal project is never complete, never secure. It must be defended and renewed in every generation. Sometimes in every election.
I’m illustrating this post with a photo from my June trip. It’s taken from the Hanavský Pavilion in Letná Park – the iconic vantage point for Prague’s five bridges panorama overlooking the quiet sweep of the Vltava river. The city’s beauty makes it easy to understand why people fought so hard for its freedom at the end of the Cold War. One generation later, that freedom is being tested again.
The timing of the essay’s publication this week could hardly be more pointed. It coincides with populist billionaire Andrej Babiš winning the Czech parliamentary elections with a resounding 35% of the vote, positioning himself to form a coalition with far-right parties.
Babiš is a self-described “Trumpist” who wants to end military aid to Ukraine, roll back EU powers, and promises a “Czechs first” approach. He defeated the centre-right coalition government led by Fiala. Viktor Orbán immediately hailed the result: “Truth has prevailed. A big step for the Czech Republic, good news for Europe.”
The politics are unusual. Fiala’s government has brought inflation down to around 2% and maintained unemployment at just 2.6% – among the lowest in the EU. It has strengthened NATO commitments and led international efforts to arm Ukraine. Yet voters chose change.
The reasons appear less economic than cultural and geopolitical: concerns about Ukrainian refugees and war-weariness over Ukraine aid – concerns amplified, it seems, by Russian disinformation.
When Tomáš emailed me this week to tell me about my essay’s publication, I’d just been reflecting on Babiš’s victory. From this distance, it looks rather like voters chose a strongman’s promises over liberalism’s open society.
When Theory Meets Reality
My essay argues that critics on the populist Right misdiagnose liberalism’s current malaise when they call for a return to “strong gods” – shared sacred commitments to religion or nation they hope will bind societies together. But the real problem, I suggest, isn’t that liberalism is too open or too pluralistic. It’s twofold: we’ve neglected the civic, institutional, and cultural foundations that give openness depth, and policy failures – especially in education and housing – have left too many behind, eroding trust in liberal institutions.
The Czech election offers a sobering case study. Babiš isn’t explicitly offering religious certainty. But he’s providing exactly what the “strong gods” advocates promise: simple answers, nationalist identity, strongman leadership. His campaign pledged higher wages and pensions, lower taxes, and an end to “austerity.” Plus freedom from the exhausting work of liberal citizenship. No more agonising over aid to Ukraine. No more navigating EU complexities. Just a billionaire businessman who promises to put “Czechs first.”
This is the seductive appeal my essay warned about. Karl Popper understood what he called the “strain of civilisation.” It’s the psychological burden that freedom places on individuals who must think and choose for themselves rather than submit to authority. Liberal democracy demands individual judgment, tolerance of dissent, and restraint of power. These run counter to our evolutionary inheritance, which favours conformity and deference in small tribal groups.
Reports suggest Russian propaganda played a significant role in the campaign. The Czech Online Risks Research Centre found that Czech-language TikTok accounts reaching millions of viewers “systematically spread pro-Russian propaganda and support anti-system parties.” The European Commission held an emergency meeting with TikTok in the days leading up to the election. The platform then removed “several bots.”
This matters because humans are tribal creatures. Our deepest intuitions are shaped by loyalty and shared identity. When disinformation exploits these instincts, it doesn’t just spread falsehoods. It makes the demanding work of liberal citizenship feel unnecessary, even naive.
Scruton’s Legacy, Tested
There’s something particularly poignant, then, about Kontexty publishing a defence of liberalism at this moment. The journal’s intellectual lineage runs directly through Scruton’s underground resistance to communist totalitarianism. Scruton understood both the fragility of liberal order and the human hunger for belonging and purpose.
Yet Scruton also understood what today’s authoritarians ignore: that tradition and belonging cannot be manufactured by state decree. Imposed unity, whether religious or nationalist, carries dangers that organic civil society was meant to avoid. We’ve seen this pattern before – and we see it repeating today. In Erdoğan’s Turkey. In Orbán’s Hungary. And in Trump’s increasingly sectarian rhetoric.
The Czech voters haven’t chosen totalitarianism. But they’ve chosen a leader whom Orbán and Slovakia’s Robert Fico celebrate as one of their own. A leader who may draw the Czech Republic into their orbit of EU mavericks refusing support for Ukraine.
What It Means
My essay wasn’t a prediction. It was a warning. Liberal societies don’t fail because they’re too open. They fail when bad policy makes liberal promises ring hollow, and when their beneficiaries neglect the foundations that make openness work: civic education, institutional maintenance, cultural confidence, and the simple willingness to defend liberal norms when they come under pressure.
The Czech election reminds us that the liberal project is never complete, never secure. It must be defended and renewed in every generation. Sometimes in every election.
I’m illustrating this post with a photo from my June trip. It’s taken from the Hanavský Pavilion in Letná Park – the iconic vantage point for Prague’s five bridges panorama overlooking the quiet sweep of the Vltava river. The city’s beauty makes it easy to understand why people fought so hard for its freedom at the end of the Cold War. One generation later, that freedom is being tested again.
My essay “Classical Liberalism Without Strong Gods” can be found at Quillette or in the “Liberalism and the West“ section of this Substack.
Roger Partridge is chairman and a co-founder of The New Zealand Initiative and is a senior member of its research team. He led law firm Bell Gully as executive chairman from 2007 to 2014. This article was sourced HERE
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