A company standing by the river

(danas.rs)

Those leading today's populist and right-wing movements around the world present themselves as leaders of an authentic rebellion against alienated elites, in defense of the essence of democracy. The paradox is, however, that by using the language of democracy and human rights, they undermine their fundamental principles.

Democracy is not just the will of the majority, although that is its most visible manifestation. Its essence lies in something deeper: in institutions that limit arbitrariness, in trust in facts, in the protection of minorities, in rational public debate, and in the ability of society to accept the complexity of the modern world.

Populism does exactly the opposite. It simplifies reality to the point of caricature, replacing analysis with emotion, politics with identity, and solutions with the search for enemies. That is why conspiracy theories are so successful in populist discourse. They appeal not because they are stupid, but because they offer what chaotic reality rarely provides: clarity, a culprit, and meaning.

In a world full of uncertainty, they turn chaos into a story and crisis into a conspiracy. Hannah Arendt warned long ago that the ideal subject of totalitarianism is not necessarily a fanatic, but an ordinary person who no longer distinguishes fact from fiction. When a society loses its common ground in truth, politics ceases to be a space for debate and becomes a battlefield of emotions, identities, and propaganda.

Yet the problem is not solely with populists. They are often just a symptom of deeper weaknesses. Their success stems largely from the fact that liberal elites in many countries have become bureaucratized, alienated, and incapable of offering people a sense of meaning, security, and belonging.

In Serbia, this problem has an additional, specific dimension. Here, populism is not just a political technique - it has become a system for postponing reality. For decades, we have been living in a state of permanent symbolic mobilization. There is always some fateful theme: betrayal, historical injustice, national survival, the disintegration of Europe, great powers, internal enemies. Society seems to be constantly waiting for some great, historical event that will change everything.

While waiting, the real problems remain untouched: the rule of law, the quality of education, economic productivity, corruption, administrative efficiency, urban planning, energy policy, demographic decline. Politics becomes epic, and the state improvised.

Serbia today resembles a man standing on the bank of a river and unable to jump into the water. There are always a hundred reasons to wait. The world, and especially Europe, moves on, while we remain stuck between fear and fascination with our own historical drama. We are used to a state of perpetual preparation. It is easier to lament over possible disasters than to systematically work on removing obstacles to development.

In this context, political divisions take on a different character. Right-wing and populist movements generally respect their elite because they confirm myth, emotion, and collective identity. Vagueness and symbolism are not weaknesses here, but strengths - they allow everyone to inscribe their own fears and hopes.

In contrast, progressive and liberal circles harbor constant suspicion towards their own elite. This is healthy from a civilizational perspective, as it prevents the cult of the leader and dogmatism, but at the same time it leads to fragmentation, internal conflicts and political weakness.

Thus we arrive at the paradox of contemporary democracy: those who believe more in critical thinking are often politically weaker than those who offer simple myths and emotional security.

The key to solving this dilemma lies in education - not in producing diplomas, but in shaping citizens capable of distinguishing facts from manipulation, argument from propaganda, and politics from bribery.

A society that does not develop critical thinking is doomed to become easy prey to emotional mobilization and false narratives.

In the end, behind all the loud slogans and historical dramas, there is one simple but essential question: will people really be better off? Politics can be patriotic, revolutionary or moralistic, while society stagnates at the same time. In the end, it all comes down to the basics: do institutions function, is there trust between people, does education create free citizens and does the state enable a normal, dignified life. Societies do not progress through constant historical dramas; they progress in long periods of rationality, stability and boring, persistent work on themselves. The greatest challenge for Serbia today is precisely to get out of the need to forever be a great historical story - and to transform into an orderly, normal society that finally stops standing by the river.