
For years, the political left in Europe presented itself as the natural owner of civilisation, progress, and humanity. Those who voted left were said to stand on the right side of history. Those who criticised it were dismissed as narrow-minded, reactionary, or dangerous. Political debate was transformed into a moral stage play in which one camp had permanently appointed itself judge and jury.
But look around. What has this self-proclaimed moral elevation actually brought Europe?
A continent struggling economically, with industry disappearing and energy becoming unaffordable. The middle class is working harder for less security. Young people are unable to buy homes. Farmers are treated as inconvenient relics. Entrepreneurs are drowning in regulations, taxes, and ideological grand plans.
Under the banner of openness, control over migration was lost. Under the banner of tolerance, parallel societies emerged. Under the banner of safety, citizens were confronted with rising tensions, street violence, and governments seemingly more occupied with explaining why no one should worry.
Under the banner of inclusion, a culture of exclusion was created. Not based on ethnicity, but on thought. Those who questioned policy, criticised supranational power, raised concerns about climate measures, or pointed to the limits of multiculturalism were labelled rather than given arguments. The modern taboo was no longer imposed by church or crown, but by the virtuous majority.
Democracy itself did not escape untouched. Referendums were ignored or repeated when the result was inconvenient. National objections were dismissed as populism. Decisions with enormous impact increasingly moved to technocratic layers of governance, where citizens felt they had little influence. People were allowed to vote, as long as they gave the correct answer.
And then foreign policy. Europe loved to speak of human rights, yet proved remarkably selective in applying them. Allies received understanding, opponents' condemnation. Wars were called humanitarian, censorship became protection, and geopolitical dependence was sold as solidarity. The vocabulary remained noble, while the practice grew harsher.
None of this means every left-wing ideal is worthless. Solidarity, protection of the vulnerable, and strong public services remain valuable principles. But principles without realism become dogmas. And dogmas do not build stable societies.
The greatest damage caused by the left in Europe may not be economic or institutional. Still, culturally, it has given millions of citizens the feeling that, in their own countries, they are welcome to pay taxes but are politically irrelevant.
Those who constantly tell people their concerns do not exist should not be surprised when their anger eventually does.
Europe does not need a new form of moral superiority, from the left or the right. It needs governance that delivers results, recognises limits, protects freedom, and takes citizens seriously again.
A continent rarely collapses because of its critics. More often, it collapses because of its certainties.






