A wide view of the General Assembly Hall during the opening of the Summit of the Future. World leaders have, here, adopted a Pact that aims above all to ensure that international institutions can deliver in the face of a world that has changed dramatically since they were created. Western governments might begin to consider how they can lean into a changing world order, the writers say. – Picture: Loey Felipe / UN Photo / September 22, 2024
By Erica Harper and Robin van der Vugt
The threat posed by Russia to liberal democracy and international peace and security has been at the fore of foreign policy debates for more than two years. This is by no means an overreaction. A narrowing of human rights protections domestically, evidence of violations of international humanitarian law in Ukraine, and the rapid expansion of the Wagner Group (now absorbed by Russia’s Africa Corps) all represent fissures in an increasingly unstable multilateral framework.
Yet ways and means to ameliorate the situation are difficult to identify. There are no mechanisms to compel Russia to respect freedom of speech, uphold the rule of law, or run an independent judiciary. The international human rights architecture largely hinges on the goodwill of state duty bearers, whereas Russia is actively anti-establishment.
In this context, the usual tools of engagement — sticks, carrots and reputational accountability — are irrelevant at best. Hard security responses are likewise off the table. Even if blockages at the United Nations (UN) Security Council could be overcome, Russian President Vladimir Putin is an unpredictable leader with nuclear assets. No country is going down this pathway, nor should they.
Crafting more impactful responses will require a dose of complex systems thinking and a better understanding of the trends taking shape alongside the kinetic war. At present, Russia is waging — and winning — two narrative wars: one domestic and one international. Together, these are creating space for and driving the shift towards a new multipolar world order marked by geopolitical tensions, spreading authoritarianism, and human rights malaise.
By unpacking these shifts, it becomes clear that where the West really needs to do better is in fighting the narrative war. This will not end the conflict in Ukraine nor solve the human rights situation inside and outside Russia, but it may delay the decline of multilateralism until the system can reconfigure itself in a way that has the confidence of the member states of the UN, integrates workable peace and security arrangements, and promotes human rights.
Two Narrative Wars: Domestic and International
The human rights situation in Russia could be likened to a snake eating its own tail, whereby violations both enable and are enabled by the war in Ukraine. Framed as a legitimate response to external threats to Russia’s integrity, the conflict has allowed the Kremlin to restrict human rights by depicting activists and civil society as agents attempting to undermine national stability. Reciprocally, the absence of robust human rights protection works to legitimise Russia’s aggressions by stifling opposition critical of its imperial foreign policy.
These narratives resonate with the Russian people. Many regard the erosion of civil and political freedom as a necessary sacrifice for unity and protection and see it as their duty to endorse what the state deems to be the correct approach to achieving this.
This perspective is reinforced by the fact that Russia’s war economy has largely raised living standards and effectively mitigated the negative effects of sanctions. In short, whether they support the status quo or feel unable to alter the situation, a significant number feel compelled to adapt to the existing reality rather than fight against it.
Whether it is due to imperialist motivations, a reaction to the eastward expansion of Nato, or an identity crisis within Russian society, Putin is working to create an international movement against the hegemony of Western liberalism. To achieve this, he needs a universal ideology that appeals to non-aligned states, and he has framed the war for external audiences accordingly.
Principally, the conflict has been reframed as an ideological battle between a meddling, imperialistic West and those brave enough to oppose it. Through this rhetoric, Russia portrays itself as a necessary counterbalance to the West, which itself is a threat to developing states and an obstacle to a fairer and more equitable multipolar world order.
Second, Russia has employed “memory diplomacy” to bolster its reputation and garner support for the war. In Africa, Russia presents itself as an anti-colonial agent, combining its historical ties with education and health programs to exploit pre-existing anti-Western sentiments. In Asia, memory diplomacy has focused on Russia’s support for nationalist movements during the Cold War, including in Vietnam, Laos, and Indonesia.
A third tactic involves challenging the universality of human rights. Particularly on LGBTQ+ rights, Russia has weaponised traditional values to forge alliances with like-minded leaders such as Hungary’s Viktor Orbán, turning the conflict in Ukraine into an ideological confrontation against Western liberalism. This approach has also found resonance among certain conservative groups in established liberal democracies such as the United States, which further underscores the global nature and implications of this ideological battle.
These two narrative wars are driving — and being driven by — what UN Secretary-General António Guterres has termed a “world in transition”. Many anticipate that this shift from unipolar to multipolar geopolitics will result in a “thinner web” of international law, with a reduced scope for accountability and a heightened emphasis on softer commitments.
This is certainly what Russia (and China) are seeking. As set out in their joint declaration on the Promotion of International Law, interstate relations need to recentre around the principles of sovereignty and non-intervention. In other words, it should not and cannot be of any concern to other states how Russian and Chinese citizens are treated within their respective countries.
Narrative Battles in a Changing World
Taking these elements together, when it comes to the narrative war, Russia is winning, evidenced by its successful domestic repression framed as national protection and its international portrayal of the conflict as an ideological battle against Western imperialism. The price to pay may be a fractured, more dangerous multipolar world order with a reduced role for human rights.
Whether it feels it doesn’t need to or simply shouldn’t have to, the West needs to better engage in these narrative wars. To date, it has rested on the “defending democracy” argument, seemingly ignoring (or perhaps not realising) how hollow this notion has become.
From the Nato bombing during the Kosovo war, to the US invasions of Afghanistan and Iraq, to a bungled intervention in Libya, the past decades have seen a series of missteps that have compromised the legitimacy of international law, the workability of the security architecture, and the authority of multilateralism.
Furthermore, the United States’ initial unconditional support for Israel’s military actions following October 7, 2023, along with the stark contrast in how the Mediterranean migration crisis is handled compared to the reception of Ukrainian refugees, underscores the troubling perception that some lives are deemed more valuable than others.
As Tom Ginsburg argues: “Kosovo was not fundamentally more soundly grounded in international law than was Putin’s invocation of ‘genocide’ in the Donbas … .” These have all fed a yawning divide where what the West considers legal and righteous interventions, others hold up as evidence of Western hegemony.
Understanding these dynamics makes it easier to see the limits of responses levelled to date. The International Criminal Court indictments, the imposition of sanctions, the appointment of a UN human rights Special Rapporteur, the Summit on Peace in Ukraine (without Russia), and the suspension of Russia from the Council of Europe and Human Rights Council all — in one way or another — seek to exclude Russia from the international community. Russia, however, wants no part of this community. To the contrary, the reputation it seeks involves projecting a culture of strength, assertiveness, and resistance; being a good international actor with a sound human rights record is less of a concern.
This is not to say that these interventions have no potential to do good. Indeed, if there is a narrative war being fought, the Special Rapporteur on Human Rights in Russia, in particular, has an important role to play. Her reports can serve as advocacy tools, countering biases and misinformation at the global stage and empowering civil society. The mandate also underscores the international community’s commitment to monitoring human rights situations, reaffirming the importance and validity of international human rights law.
Finally, Western governments might begin to consider how they can lean into a changing world order. As UN Secretary-General Guterres almost prophetically called it, it may be a matter of reform or rupture, requiring global compromise, even with authoritarian regimes. If human rights and political freedoms are to continue to play central roles in the international order, we may need to fight harder, strategically, and with humility.
What Would an Alternative Narrative Look Like?
The West’s past actions have undeniably contributed to a justified perception of hypocrisy. This makes narrative reframing difficult — but not impossible.
The key lies in aligning words with actions — any new narrative must be backed by consistent and credible efforts that reflect the values the West seeks to promote. Instead of ambiguously and selectively positioning itself as the defender of democracy, the West should pivot towards advocating for values that resonate on a truly global scale: human dignity, equality, justice, the rule of law, self-determination, and development.
To make this shift effective, strong and concrete actions are the only option. The good news is that there are opportunities in abundance. Crisis may be a prelude to rupture, but it is also a chance for reform.
One practical step would be for the West to lead efforts to reform international institutions like the UN, making them more representative and effective. By advocating for a system that better reflects today’s multipolar world, the West can demonstrate that it is not clinging to outdated power structures but is instead committed to a more just and functional global order.
The larger point is that, above all, the West must be prepared to relinquish its hegemony if it truly wishes to build and be part of an international community capable of uniting more effectively against authoritarianism and deterring those slipping towards it.
Acknowledging “mistakes” from the past now is another way to address the hypocrisy head-on. There may be no better time to address the controversial interventions in Iraq and Libya and immediately commit to a more consistent and principled approach in the future. This would require not only rhetorical shifts but also tangible changes in foreign policy, such as exercising greater caution with military interventions and ensuring that human rights are upheld universally, not selectively.
A more controversial yet necessary argument is that the West should continue to engage with authoritarian regimes on fronts where global shared interests are at stake. Completely ostracising powerful nations has the clear drawback of making crucial cooperation impossible — a lesson the Covid-19 pandemic should have starkly illustrated. The (looming) climate crisis, for instance, demands that everyone comes to the table.
Erica Harper is head of Research and Policy Studies at the Geneva Academy. Robin van der Vugt is a researcher at the Geneva Academy.
This article was published on Global Observatory
