In the mid-1990s, with Washington averting its gaze from the war in Yugoslavia, French President Jacques Chirac mixed contempt with delight by sneering, “The position of leader of the free world is vacant.”
Thankfully, it’s not vacant today, though it’s being filled by an unexpected figure.
Word Choice
When people use the term “free world,” they are unwittingly talking about both humanity’s unity and humanity’s division. After all, those blessed to be part of the free world are united in their embrace of free government, free enterprise, rule of law, individual liberty, and religious liberty.
Yet so much of humanity doesn’t enjoy what our founders called “the blessings of liberty.” Instead, they live and die under the boot of control, conformity and coercion. The divide isn’t as clear as it was during the Cold War—except in places like the 38th Parallel and the Donbas and the Taiwan Strait—but we know that it runs across and through and around our broken world.
The leader of the free world—like the leader of any institution or organization, effort or cause—must believe in what he or she is leading. American presidents have shown their belief in, and support for, the free world by their actions but also, importantly, in their words.
The American Presidency Project’s database tells us President Franklin Roosevelt was the first president to employ “the free world.” He did so in January 1941. Following FDR’s lead, his successors employed “the free world” routinely to rally the American people, unite our allies and define our enemies. Between 1945 and 2016, presidents and vice presidents used the phrase in some 2,300speeches and documents—more than 32 times per year.
In a little more than five and a half years, President Donald Trump has used “free world” just 10 times. On one of those occasions, he even differentiated the U.S. from the free world.
Vice President Mike Pence, by contrast, employed “free world” in 65 speeches during Trump’s first term. Similarly, President Joe Biden invoked “free world” in 68 speeches.
For Biden and Pence, the term is part of their native language; it’s the outgrowth of Cold War muscle memory.
Trump’s sparing use of “free world,” on the other hand, speaks volumes about his discomfort with the term—especially when overlaid against his own policies and actions.
Together
The late Fouad Ajami, whose defense of freedom we desperately miss, once observed that there was an “ambivalence at the heart of the Obama diplomacy about freedom”—an ambivalence that “has not served American policy well.”
Would that we still had a president who was only ambivalent about the free world.
Rather than shrugging ambivalence, Trump more often than not conveys disdain for the free world and warmth for its enemies. There’s praise and patience for the business-suit autocrats who rule China and Russia, tales of “falling in love” with North Korea’s Stalinist dictator, and fawning over Arab petrocrats. All the while, democratic Canada is treated to economic coercion and belittling. Democratic Denmark gets the backhand of military coercion. Germany’s democratic leader is subjected to scolding. Ukraine’s democratic leader is publicly ambushed and slandered.
It was after that Oval Office ambush of Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy that EU foreign policy chief Kaja Kallas declared, “Today, it became clear that the free world needs a new leader.”
Zelenskyy didn’t seek it, but he’s playing that role.
First and foremost, Zelenskyy isn’t uncomfortable with the phrase; in fact, he employs it often.
In mid-2022: “Ukraine has shown that we are already a full-fledged part of the free world.” In late 2022: “We stand, we fight and we will win because we are united—Ukraine, America and the entire free world.” In January 2023: “The tide is turning and it is already clear who will win…We will make it together with the whole free world.” In February 2023: “Davids of the free world, we, united Davids, shall prevail over Putins scattered all over the world!” In spring 2023: “Like in the Second World War, we are not alone against evil. We fight against it together in the same way—together with the entire free world.” In winter 2024: “We…in the free world exist as long as we can defend ourselves.” This summer: “America, together with the free world, can help us secure our independence from Russian killers, from this terrible Russian desire to destroy human life.” The list goes on and on.
Second, he keeps his word and stands his ground.
As Russia invaded, Zelenskyy was offered a chance to evacuate. His defiant response would send a message to Ukraine, to Putin and his henchmen, to Europe and America, and to the entire free world: “The fight is here. I need ammunition, not a ride.” There was no equivocation, no talk of “two more weeks,” no moving of the goalposts.
One recalls President Harry Truman’s response when his advisors pushed him to abandon West Berlin: “We stay in Berlin, period. We stay in Berlin, come what may.”
It’s no exaggeration to say that Ukraine has held up—and chewed up Putin’s army—because Zelenskyy stood up when no one else did. He’s not perfect; he has flaws and foibles. But he’s a reminder of an eternal truth that too many in our post-heroic, post-modern age have forgotten or dismissed or never learned: Individuals can and do make a difference.
Third, he speaks and sees with moral clarity—and rejects moral relativism. “Freedom must be armed better than tyranny,” Zelenskyy declares, for he knows that when it’s not, the result is Czechoslovakia 1938, Pearl Harbor 1941, Korea 1950, Hungary 1956, Ukraine 2022.
In the same vein, responding to Trump’s up-is-down conclusion that Ukraine “should have never started” this war, Zelenskyy pleads for a “common understanding that Russia is the aggressor.”
It calls to mind President Ronald Reagan’s words to the Boys of Pointe du Hoc, who went into battle armed with “the deep knowledge—and pray God we have not lost it—that there is a profound, moral difference between the use of force for liberation and the use of force for conquest.”
Fourth, he recognizes that the free world is not a moated fortress—and that what happens on one front of the battle between freedom and tyranny affects other fronts.
As Russian variants of Iranian drones pelted his country, as Russia shared targeting data with Iran’s Houthi proxies in Yemen, as Iran used Russian satellite imagery and fiber-optic drones to target U.S. forces in the Middle East, Zelenskyy reminded the world that “regimes in Russia and Iran are brothers in hatred” and “brothers in weapons.” And so, he rushed Ukrainian trainers and systems to the region to help American and British troops defend against Iran’s (and Russia’s) drones. There was no made-for-TV lecturing, no revisionist nonsense, no moral relativism from Ukraine’s president—just a helping hand for fellow democracies under attack.
In the same way, Reagan noted that “support for freedom fighters is self-defense” and “is tied to our own security.”
Fifth, he views alliances and allies as assets to nurture, not liabilities to cut.
Zelenskyy has sought membership in alliances, applauded alliances and cultivated alliances with the rest of the free world. He has helped allies in need (see above). He has proposed the creation of “a union of responsible countries that have the strength and consciousness to stop conflict immediately, provide all the necessary assistance in 24 hours, if necessary, even weapons, if necessary, sanctions, humanitarian support, political support, finances—everything you need to keep the peace and…save lives.” And he argues, poignantly, that “if such alliance would exist today…we would be able to save thousands of lives in our country.”
Such an alliance of free nations does exist. It’s called NATO, but Ukraine isn’t a NATO member. When it is, NATO and the free world will be stronger.
“Together,” as Biden said during the 2024 NATO summit, “we are stronger.”
Hopefully, America’s next president will remember and return to that truth.
