The longer these authoritarian parties are in power, the more they eviscerate democratic institutions. But they are not invincible or irreversible. Incipient authoritarianism has been turned back in countries as diverse as Brazil, Poland, Sri Lanka, and Senegal. The slide away from liberal democracy has been reversed recently in Botswana and Mauritius. An executive coup against democracy was defeated in South Korea. Young people in Bangladesh overthrew a dictator last year in a remarkable upsurge of protest. And the longstanding autocracies in Venezuela and Turkey are looking increasingly desperate and unpopular. These examples bear lessons we must learn and promote if we are to ignite — as we surely can — a new era of democratic progress.

First, we must study what it takes to defeat autocrats at the ballot box. Typically, electoral battles are not a straight contrast between democracy and autocracy. Voters weigh their circumstances of life as well. Fortunately, autocrats have other failings besides their corruption, lawlessness, and abuse of power: sooner or later, they fail to deliver on their material promises. Successful democratic campaigns target the populists’ hypocrisy and address not just people’s political rights but their economic and social needs. 

To defeat autocrats, democratic forces must offer specific, credible plans to meet the core policy challenges of economic growth and distribution, fairness and inclusion, education, health care, infrastructure, public safety, and national security. 

But people everywhere also need a vision of what constitutes a good and just form of government. Here, democracies have dropped the ball in making the case FOR democracy as the best form of government. Decades ago, as they fought dictatorships and then came to power, democracies taught their young people the values, ideas, and history of democracy. But as new democracies stabilized, the existence of a democratic culture came to be assumed, and countries forgot the terrible price they paid under dictatorship — the fear, falsehoods, powerlessness, and repression, the lack of accountability, voice, justice, and human dignity. We can make the practical case for democracy — it performs better over time. But we cannot pin the argument on performance, which may fail at specific points in time.
 

Ultimately, the case for democracy is that being able to speak truth to power, to hold it accountable, and to change those who exercise it is a core element of human dignity and a basic human right. The freedoms to speak, publish, pray, organize, and assemble are inalienable human rights. As are the rights to a fair and impartial trial and to have all citizens be treated equally under the law. It is only democracy — never autocracy — that protects these rights and treats citizens with dignity by investing sovereignty in them, not some self-appointed minority. Liberty and democracy are intertwined.

We must make these points relentlessly, creatively, and convincingly, not just in the schools, at successively higher levels of instruction and deliberation, but through the social media platforms where people live their information lives. Russia, China, Iran, and other autocracies wage extensive propaganda campaigns to trash liberal values and institutions. They portray democracy as lacking in dynamism, capacity, and masculine strength. These arguments are false, offensive, and degrading to the human spirit. But they will not fail of their own accord. They need to be defeated by better, more inspiring arguments and narratives about why people need freedom to thrive, and why societies need democracy to have freedom.

Today, there are four arenas of struggle for the future of freedom, and democrats must prevail in all of them. The core battle is now in the countries that have been sliding back from democracy to autocracy. 

In almost every instance where authoritarian projects have been defeated, it has been through elections. Illiberal populists crave the legitimacy that comes from victory in multiparty elections. But corruption and misrule erode their electoral support. So, they need elections that are competitive enough to validate their claim to rule but rigged enough to minimize the risk of defeat. The pathway to restoring democracy is to seize the electoral opportunity, flood the zone with election workers and observers, and wage an effective campaign so that people who have grown weary of authoritarian abuse can defeat it at the ballot box.

To win, democrats must forge a unified coalition across factional and ideological divides. They must offer concrete policy ideas to improve people’s lives. They need a narrative about what has happened to justice and democracy, and why restoring these will help to make the country great again. A campaign is not a legal brief. It must inspire and excite. It requires strong, compelling leadership. It must engage diverse sections of society, including people who once supported the authoritarian populists but are now disillusioned. Democrats must also express patriotism and show that illiberal populists wave a false flag. Democrats are the truer patriots because they recognize democracy and liberty as pillars of national greatness.

These lessons can help to restore democracy where it has been lost and to secure it in a second arena, when it is under challenge from authoritarian populist parties. But there are two other arenas of struggle in which we must prevail. Globally, democrats cannot let the world’s powerful authoritarian states capture and hollow out the global institutions to defend freedom — the UN Human Rights Council, the international and regional instruments of electoral observation and assistance, and the rules that govern the flows of data and information. Neither can we shrink from the global battle to support democratic values and free flows of information, and to lend technical and financial support to peoples, parties, media, and movements around the world struggling for freedom. 

In the face of isolationist efforts to defund and withdraw from this cause, we must convince democratic publics that we can only secure our own freedom by supporting that of others. A more democratic world will be a safer, fairer, less corrupt, more peaceful, and prosperous world.
 

All of that has been under existential challenge in Ukraine since Russia’s brutal invasion in February of 2022. Resisting aggression is the fourth arena of struggle. There is no more urgent priority than to give the Ukrainian people the weapons, resources, and economic sanctions to defeat Russian aggression. Similarly, we must ensure that Taiwan’s democracy does not suffer the same aggression from the People’s Republic of China. Taiwan must have the weapons, trade, and international dignity it needs to survive. We must preserve the status quo across the strait by making clear that the US and other democracies stand behind the resolve of a free people to chart their own destiny in Taiwan — as we do in Ukraine.

We meet here today just a short distance from the grotesque wall that stood for decades as the dividing line between freedom and tyranny. 36 years ago — almost to this day — the wall was torn down. Few imagined it would happen when it did. But it did because of democratic conviction and resolve. Now, we are in a new cold war with global authoritarianism. The history of Berlin should constantly remind us that freedom is fragile, but it can also be resilient. We must never lose faith in the rightness of our cause and the obligation we bear once again to defend freedom in an hour of peril.

Professor Diamond delivered this speech at the Berlin Freedom Conference on November 10, 2025.

The "Meet Our Researchers" series showcases the incredible scholars at Stanford’s Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law (CDDRL). Through engaging interviews conducted by our undergraduate research assistants, we explore the journeys, passions, and insights of CDDRL’s faculty and researchers.

What role do middle or “auxiliary” powers — like India, Brazil, or Turkey — play in this evolving landscape of great power competition?

This is one of the biggest differences between today and the Cold War. Back then, the system was much more binary. Today, the world is more fragmented. I think of it as a race: the U.S. is ahead, China is closing the gap, and everyone else is running behind. But they’re running. They have agency. They’re not just sitting on the sidelines.

Countries like India, South Africa, Turkey, and Brazil are swing states. They’re not going to line up neatly with Washington or Beijing. BRICS is a perfect example — democracies and autocracies working in the same grouping. The U.S. has to get used to living with that uncertainty. We need to engage, not withdraw.

And at the same time, while the U.S. seems to be retreating from some of its instruments of influence, China appears to be expanding. What worries you about this divergence?

It’s striking. We’re cutting back on USAID, pulling out of multilateral institutions, shutting down things like Voice of America, Radio Free Asia, Radio Free Europe, and cutting back on diplomats. Meanwhile, the Chinese are expanding their presence, their multilateral influence, their media footprint, and their diplomacy.

If the autocrats are organized, the democrats have to be organized too. We can’t just step back and assume things will turn out fine. That’s not how competition works.
 

During the Cold War, despite intense rivalry, the U.S. and USSR cooperated on nuclear nonproliferation and arms control. How do you see cooperation taking shape in today’s U.S.–China rivalry?

That’s a really important point. Cooperation in the Cold War wasn’t just about deterring the Soviets — it was also about working with them when we had overlapping interests. The Nuclear Nonproliferation Treaty of 1968 was a monumental achievement. It was signed at the height of the Vietnam War, while we were literally fighting proxy conflicts, and yet we found common ground on nuclear weapons.

I think something similar can and should happen now. Even if we’re competing with China, and even with Russia, there are areas where cooperation is in everyone’s interest: nuclear arms control, nonproliferation of dangerous technologies like AI and bioweapons, and climate change. These are existential issues. We cooperated with our adversaries in the past; we should be able to do it again.

One of the big debates in international relations is about the role of ideology. How much does ideology matter in this current geopolitical context?

It matters a lot. My book isn’t called Great Powers — it’s called Autocrats vs. Democrats for a reason. I believe ideas and regime type shape international politics.

Putinism and Xi Jinping Thought are exported differently. Putinism — illiberal nationalism — has ideological allies in Europe and here in the U.S. Xi’s model is more economically attractive to parts of the Global South. Power matters, of course, but it’s not the only thing.

You can see this clearly if you compare Obama and Trump. There was no big structural power shift between 2016 and 2017, but their worldviews were radically different. That’s evidence that ideas and individuals matter a great deal in shaping foreign policy.
 

You’ve warned about the dangers of U.S. retrenchment. Are there historical moments that you see as parallels to today?

I worry about a repeat of the 1930s. When Italy invaded Ethiopia, Americans said, “Where’s Ethiopia?” When Japan invaded China, they said, “Why do we care?” Then came 1939. Stalin and Hitler invaded Poland, and we still said, “That’s not our problem.” Eventually, it became our problem.

If we disengage now, we may find ourselves facing similar consequences. That’s part of why I wrote this book — to push back against the idea that retrenchment is safe. It’s not.

To close, what advice would you give to students who want to build careers like yours? And, could you recommend a book or two for young people entering this field?

Be more intentional than I was. Focus on what you want to do, not just what you want to be. Develop your ideas first, then go into government or academia to act on them. Don’t go into public service just for a title. I saw too many people in government who were there just to “be” something, without a clear agenda. The “to do” should come first; the “to be” comes later.

As for books, my own book, Autocrats vs. Democrats: China, Russia, America, and the New Global Disorder, is coming out soon — you can pre-order it. But the two books that shaped me the most when I was young are Crane Brinton’s The Anatomy of Revolution and Guillermo O’Donnell and Philippe Schmitter’s Transitions from Authoritarian Rule.

Motivation & Contribution

Vladimir Putin has ruled Russia for over a quarter century despite economic mismanagement, corruption, and a disastrous war in Ukraine. Prior to the invasion, Putin’s rule was often seen as exemplifying modern autocracy, maintaining one-man rule while employing less overt mechanisms of social control, such as propaganda and regularly held, albeit controlled, uncompetitive elections. Since the full-scale invasion of Ukraine in February of 2022, however, Putin’s authoritarianism has intensified, especially as opponents of the war are imprisoned, terrorized, driven into exile, or worse. As such, Russia’s “modern” autocracy, which relies less on force than on presenting a message to society of an all-capable state and leader, has transformed into a highly personalized form of harsh authoritarianism. At the same time, many average Russians do genuinely support Putin — especially given his emphasis on order in society and restoring Russian greatness — and view the regime as legitimate and responsive. Often, however, analysts of contemporary Russia in the West tend to focus more on those Russians who oppose Putin’s autocracy than on those who support it and why they do. 

In her “Review Article: Why Does Putinism Endure? Dialoguing With the Dictator,” Kathryn Stoner tackles this question through a critical analysis mainly of Hannah Chapman’s Dialogue with the Dictator: Authoritarian Legitimation and Information Management in Putin’s Russia. The analysis is complemented by insights from four other recently published books on authoritarianism and Russia. For Stoner, Chapman’s central contribution lies in showing how a seemingly ridiculous exercise in state propaganda — the Direct Line with Vladimir Putin TV call-in show — is in fact an important way of legitimizing Putin’s rule, providing his regime with information about social preferences and sources of dissatisfaction while affording citizens with the feeling that their complaints are being heard and even resolved live and on TV. Gaining information about citizens would otherwise be difficult in such an unfree society, where individual preferences that may be critical of Putin’s rule are often concealed or deliberately falsified to avoid punishment by the regime. The reader learns that even hegemonic dictators must be perceived by citizens to be a good listener. 

The Functions of ‘Participatory Technologies’

The conceptual foundation of Chapman’s analysis lies in what she terms ‘participatory technologies’ (PTs), which allow citizens to interact with authoritarian regimes “directly and in a positive manner.” Observers tend to dismiss PTs, which are often low-technology formats like TV shows or radio programs, as ‘spin’ or mere propaganda. In Russia, however, Putin uses PTs not only to control what information reaches citizens, but also to enhance his legitimacy and appear more accountable. Although PTs are limited and highly individualized — for example, more often than not ignoring collective demands — they are direct.

Participatory technologies differ from autocrats’ sham, window-dressing elections, where the outcome is a foregone conclusion. Instead, they permit citizens to engage with and provide input to the autocrat on specific issues. They also provide information to the regime about the performance of lower-level agents, such as governors or regional politicians, given that citizens are often concerned with local, day-to-day problems. By involving these lower-level agents, autocrats can deflect responsibility for governance problems away from themselves. Finally, PTs provide value to those who participate in them, giving them a sense of political efficacy. At the same time, however, PTs may expose embarrassing governmental dysfunctions. Indeed, the resolution of local problems – like fixing potholes on a local road – should not require direct citizen engagement with powerful national-level leaders. Furthermore, PTs run the risk of being overused and being seen as performative and fake by citizens.
 

Tuning into Direct Line

Stoner’s review article discusses Chapman’s analysis of one PT in particular, namely the Direct Line with Vladimir Putin call-in show. Direct Line began in 2001, organized by the Kremlin and broadcast on state-owned and pro-regime media. The audience and the questions posed are selected in advance. During the broadcast — which is one of the most watched events in Russia, perhaps because of compulsion from employers — Putin conveys to the audience that Russia is doing well, but that he is not satisfied, is working tirelessly, and wants to hear citizens’ concerns. Putin does not merely listen but acts to solve their concerns, for example, keeping a folder of issues raised by ordinary Russians and bringing these issues to the attention of regional governors. He has even forwarded questions directly to regional governors on air, which also serves to deflect responsibility away from himself. 

Methodology

Stoner describes the multiple survey experiments and interviews Chapman conducted in exploring whether Direct Line matters to ordinary Russians. Some of the interviewees seem to know that Direct Line is staged; yet they nonetheless find it compelling that Putin is not afraid to answer their sometimes uncomfortable questions. The goal of the survey experiments is to try to ascertain how prompts that (do not) mention Direct Line affect respondents’ evaluations of Putin. In other words, Direct Line is the ‘treatment,’ which participants in the ‘control’ group do not receive. One experiment only varies whether or not Putin heard about a problem on Direct Line. Another varies this as well as whether or not Putin resolved the problem. In both experiments, respondents whose prompts included mention of Direct Line evaluated Putin more favorably, although Stoner notes that the statistical effects of this are small. In another experiment, the mention of Direct Line leads respondents to believe there are greater opportunities to express their opinions and demands. Finally, a fourth experiment finds that respondents who support (oppose) Putin gave him higher (lower) evaluations when Direct Line was mentioned, hinting at how Direct Line might serve as a source of polarization in Russia.
 

Limitations

Stoner highlights an important puzzle about whether participatory technologies like Direct Line can, in fact, provide credible information to Putin’s regime. For example, questions are pre-screened to exclude subjects that could threaten the regime. Additionally, those who call in are already likely to be more supportive of or sympathetic to the regime. It would thus seem that Putin has better mechanisms for gathering credible information, such as through the Kremlin’s surveillance system, than through a PT like Direct Line, as Chapman claims. As such, Direct Line’s value appears primarily rhetorical, as opposed to informational — the regime is merely performing an exercise in responding to easy problems that can be resolved quickly by Putin, or inane questions about things like Putin’s favorite books.

Stoner’s review article notes her concerns regarding the generalizability of Chapman’s findings. First of all, it would be challenging to draw conclusions from the survey experiments, given that they concern a single group of people who were surveyed a decade ago (2015-2016). Relatedly, and in light of the war in Ukraine, Chapman’s analysis of PTs seems dated, as Putin has resorted far more often to severely punishing opposition (real and imagined) to his regime, rather than cajoling and coercing society with participatory technologies like his call-in show. Indeed, the show was cancelled in 2022 without explanation, but presumably to avoid difficult questions about the devastation wrought that autumn on the Russian armed forces in Ukraine. Nonetheless, Stoner notes that there is now a burgeoning literature that helps us better understand how, in normal times, autocrats effectively utilize the media and other technologies to build support and legitimate their rule, while providing citizens with a sense that they can influence politics, when in reality, they cannot.