A recent commentary on the ongoing war against Iran [1] is pessimistic about its outcome and considers it difficult to make predictions about when and how it might end. Nevertheless, some reflections are in order—not only on this conflict, but more generally with reference to past conflicts whose stated aim was to “bring democracy” to authoritarian countries.

The starting point of what follows is a work by the British philosopher John Stuart Mill—A Few Words on Non-Intervention (1859)—which was rediscovered starting in 2005, when the UN General Assembly approved the doctrine of the “Responsibility to Protect,” whose objective is to prevent genocide, war crimes, ethnic cleansing, and crimes against humanity. Its most significant application, given the importance of the country involved, occurred following Resolution 1973 (2011), by which the United Nations Security Council authorized intervention in Libya, with five abstentions: Brazil, China, Germany, India, and Russia.

Stuart Mill asks whether “a nation is justified in taking part, on behalf of one faction or another, in the civil wars or party struggles of another country; and, above all, whether it is justified in helping the people of another country in their struggle for freedom; or whether it may impose upon a country a particular form of government or institutions, because they are deemed better for the country itself, or necessary for the security of its neighbors.” According to Mill, this problem can arise only in the case—one that in any event requires caution—in which a people takes up arms to assert its freedom; every other case should not be considered.

For example, if a country is involved in a prolonged civil war to affirm its own freedom and the forces for and against freedom are so evenly matched that there is no possibility of a swift resolution, or—if there were one—if the victorious side could not hope to keep the defeated in check except by resorting to means that “revolt humanity and are harmful to the well-being of the country,” then external states—acting in agreement with one another—have the right to demand an end to the conflict and national reconciliation based on a fair compromise. Today, when one speaks of agreement among external actors vis-à-vis the state concerned, one can only be referring to agreement among the countries gathered within the United Nations Security Council.

If, instead, a people is struggling against its own government to obtain free institutions, Mill argues that it is best not to intervene. One cannot, in fact, be certain that intervention—even if crowned with success—will ultimately benefit the people themselves. The only criterion for determining whether a people is ready for liberal institutions “is that it, or a sufficient portion of it to prevail in the struggle, be willing to undergo toil and danger for its own liberation,” and that there be a leadership capable of replacing the one to be overthrown. If this is not the case, “it is only a question of a few years or months before that people will be reduced to slavery.” The alternative would be a government in the hands of the intervening country, but in this case one despotic government would merely be replaced by one of occupation—not a great solution.

Reading these words of Stuart Mill, one cannot help but think of the intervention in Libya, a failed state now some fifteen years after the collapse of Gaddafi’s regime; of the intervention in Iraq, another failed state; of the intervention in Afghanistan, with the Taliban back in power after the American withdrawal. One might also add Venezuela, which according to Trump had a despotic government and did not align with U.S. policy: today it has a despotic government that does align with U.S. policy and no longer seems to be a problem. Deference toward the U.S. administration comes before the nature of the regime. The problem posed by Stuart Mill—especially today—cannot but generate strong political and moral tensions, both at the individual level and within political communities, because those accustomed to living under a stable liberal-democratic regime, when confronted with authoritarian if not dictatorial and bloodthirsty governments, as in the case of Iran, cannot simply turn away without asking how one might foster a gradual evolution of such regimes. At this point, three provisional responses can be put forward.

First, considering the precedents just recalled, one cannot impose one’s values by resorting to force: in the cases of intervention in Venezuela and Iran there was not even the flimsy fig leaf of an intervention aimed at affirming “Western values,” but only the interests of a narrow group of American oligarchs. The second response is that it is unthinkable, in the short term, to see the affirmation of values that Westerners consider indispensable for humankind. Perhaps the example that can be cited is Turkey. Kemal Atatürk, amid countless difficulties, promoted the secularization of the Turkish state, limiting the influence of religious movements—particularly Islamic ones—on public life. Although nearly a century has passed since the launch of that policy, the rise to power of Erdoğan was enough for Turkey to take steps backward, without encountering, so far, any real resistance from Turkish public opinion. When a world order that has ensured a minimum of stability and security collapses, religion—an human institution consolidated over centuries or millennia—re-emerges as an anchor of security.

Kishore Mahbubani, in an article in Foreign Affairs [2], referring to an earlier article by Alexander Stubb [3], indicates the perspective that should be emphasized if one is to embark on a path that, over time, might lead to convergence around shared rules and values, but he first recalls some fundamental truths. He observes that not all countries of the Global South share the West’s dominant views regarding the world order. They do not see China and Russia as threats, but rather fear Western double standards, which condemn Russia’s aggression against Ukraine and the civilian deaths it causes, yet do not criticize Israeli policy, which in Gaza has caused more civilian deaths than in Ukraine: “no one respects an adulterous priest who preaches marital fidelity in church.” The Asian political scientist goes even further and, in response to Western criticism of authoritarian and undemocratic China, notes that “the Chinese people are living through the best 40 years of human and social development in 4,000 years of Chinese history,” which constitutes an indisputable basis of consensus in support of the Chinese government.

What perspective, then, does Mahbubani propose? And here we come to the third—and decisive—response to the problem outlined above. He takes up Stubb’s suggestion that “governments in the Global West can continue to believe in democracy and markets without insisting that they be universally applicable; elsewhere, different models may prevail,” and that “a rules-based world order, upheld by a set of effective international institutions that enshrine fundamental values, remains the best way to prevent competition from leading to confrontation.” The answer therefore lies in stronger multilateral institutions—stronger because they are founded on fairer governance. For example, Mahbubani argues, the functioning of the UN Security Council should be reformed to include permanent members representing the world’s major regions, and the IMF should revise voting weights so as to more fairly represent the emerging regions of the world.

The aim, in essence, is to introduce greater symmetry in the governance of multilateral institutions among the West, the East, and the Global South, in order to prevent future conflicts and buy the time needed for a gradual convergence on values that every part of humanity can regard as indispensable. To take this step, however, it is necessary—contrary to what has happened thus far—that the 12 percent of the world’s population be willing to listen to the reasons of the remaining 88 percent: a difficult task, but not an impossible one. After all, until the 1960s, the northern states of the U.S. federation coexisted with the racist southern states, some of which were moreover governed by Democrats. It remains to indicate who might take the initiative in this direction: Mahbubani urges Europe to assume this responsibility. We can only add that this initiative should be undertaken together with India—a subcontinent that, to date, has not allowed itself to be drawn into the rearmament race launched by China, Russia, and the United States.