Reframing Democracy Support
Shanthi Kalathil on moving beyond funding when there isn’t much of it
Shanthi Kalathil is a senior fellow at the USC Center on Communication Leadership and Policy, a visiting senior fellow at the German Marshall Fund of the United States, and a former deputy assistant to the president and coordinator for democracy and human rights at the National Security Council.
It’s time to get creative about global democracy support.
The US government has long been the engine behind the effort to support democratic institutions and activists around the world. With the shuttering of USAID and State Department programs that aid democracy and human rights abroad, and other wealthy countries reducing their development assistance, the traditional model of international democracy support has essentially collapsed. While these realities may fuel further global democratic backsliding, this crisis can represent an opportunity to reframe the concept of support, both in the immediate term and in the years to come.
Over the years, the idea of international democracy “support” has become tantamount to funding—usually US government or other bilateral donor funding that enables a range of support activities, from technical assistance for open and transparent governance, to training workshops for civil society and independent media. Because this funding has generally been a constant (despite some fluctuations across different US administrations), it has inadvertently precluded creative exploration of other ways, both funding-related and otherwise, to help sustain democratic practice and institutions around the world. Moreover, it has typically flowed in one direction, from “established” democracies to “emerging” democracies, de-emphasizing mutual support and learning.
There has been scant effort to wrap a wider array of institutions and organizations into the project of international democratic solidarity. In the US, Europe, and other traditional donor countries, many institutions that serve as the pillars of democracy and deeply understand its workings—local legislatures, subnational governments, electoral bodies, universities, media, cultural organizations, local advocacy groups, chambers of commerce, libraries, and myriad other civic institutions—have not engaged consistently, if at all, with either the idea or the infrastructure of international democracy assistance.
There are several reasons for this. US federal funding often comes with restrictions on when and where it can be spent, requiring familiarity with specialized accounting systems, proposal requirements, and other specifications; for this reason, funding typically has been channeled through implementing organizations dedicated specifically to international democracy assistance. Moreover, the field of international democracy assistance has become sufficiently specialized that many in this wider array of domestic governments and organizations are unaware it exists. As a result, few domestic institutions have considered how direct engagement with their counterparts overseas could become part of a global process of mutual democratic learning and solidarity, through knowledge exchange or other forms of capacity-building such as pro-bono contributions, institutional sponsorships, technical advice, and other avenues.
Imagine if states, cities and towns in the US, for example, were to meaningfully engage with their democratic “sister” counterparts across the world, utilizing relationships that have been built over decades, initially as a form of public diplomacy, to exchange ideas on deepening civic participation or encouraging productive civil discourse. Often, out of necessity, younger democracies are the source of tremendous innovation. Many use technology to “leapfrog” into aspects of digitally enabled deliberation or governance that could serve as models for others, like city- and state-based participatory budgeting in Brazil or AI-assisted public deliberation in Taiwan. Rather than being mere public relations trappings, these sister city relationships could serve as infrastructure for true democratic learning, with technical assistance and knowledge that could flow both ways. Ironically, authoritarian states have long recognized the value of these ties to advance their own interests, with many sister city relationships weaponized to infringe upon free expression, deepen surveillance and security risks, or enable transnational repression within democratic countries (including in the US, the Czech Republic, and Australia). Across the board, then, sister city relationships are overdue for deeper exploration.
Already, analysis and momentum toward a new model are emerging. In 2023, as part of the second Summit for Democracy, nearly 200 mayors from over 50 countries on five continents signed the “Global Declaration of Mayors for Democracy,” recognizing “the critical role cities play in strengthening, advancing, and adapting democracy on-the-ground every day.” In addition, there have been many legislature-focused programs with other countries; for example, the longstanding House Democracy Partnership regularly facilitates high-level meetings and parliamentary dialogues between members of the US Congress and foreign counterparts, most recently in Belgium, Moldova, Romania, and Greece. Libraries, too, are increasingly exploring their role as resource hubs for digital literacy in their communities and globally. And some universities, in the US and abroad, have begun hosting democracy defenders who have fled repression in their home countries, giving them a space for reflection and healing while at the same time serving as sources of knowledge and ideas on combating democratic backsliding for the university community. Although obtaining US visas is growing more difficult, these programs could be expanded in virtual, cost-effective, and creative ways, perhaps drawing upon more localized, in-kind, or even crowdsourced funding.
Importantly, such efforts are not dependent on a single funder or set of funders, but can be conceptualized and experimented with at the level of individual institutions or organizations in ways that make sense for them. Over time, one can imagine this forming the basis for a new kind of decentralized global democracy “sustainment” effort during lean times, bringing in and energizing new actors on both sides of the exchanges all over the world and giving concrete meaning to the idea of democratic solidarity. In the longer term, sustainment might even move to meaningful rejuvenation, particularly if efforts to lessen dependence on a narrow set of donors leads to greater resilience.
Lest we think this kind of localized activity ineffective: authoritarian governments have long repurposed the “think global, act local” motto for their own means, utilizing transnational relationships to insidiously hollow out democratic institutions far from their borders. China and Russia, in particular, have proved singularly adept at co-opting transborder institutional ties to achieve authoritarian aims, including through partnerships with museums, universities, cultural production engines, civil society organizations, and other critical elements of democratic societies. They have done this not through any unique skill, but through persistence and iteration.
Not only have democratic institutions in the US and elsewhere been slow to recognize and defend against this threat, but they have largely failed to recognize their own role as actors helping to sustain democracy around the world. It is past time to flip this script. Our own democratic institutions are sitting on untapped agency and capacity, even as many are becoming more aware of the magnitude of the global democratic crisis. Reframing the idea of global democracy support around mutual support and solidarity—perhaps even reconceptualizing democracy assistance writ large—can enable new democratic participants to enter and revitalize this space in a time of great urgency.