The American political system is unique: a system built in pursuit of
deadlock rather than “progress,” a system that fully understands human
nature and proactively defends against it, and a system that holds
itself accountable, at least when it works as designed.
But at its heart, American politics
is unique because the United States of America is unique. It is a
miracle of human ideological experimentation that, thanks to the genius
of the Founding Fathers,
has almost single-handedly provided the country and the world with
levels of peace and prosperity that would have seemed unimaginable at
any other point in human history.
Despite these marvelous attributes, however, there is a persistent
and dangerous flaw in the American psyche: an assumption that the rest
of the world is just like us. You see it when leftists make the
laughably absurd argument that all cultures are equal. If you think
that’s the case, please explain how life in modern-day Nashville,
Tennessee, for example, is as good as, say, that of the Mayans, who
routinely performed child sacrifices to satisfy the hunger of
supernatural beings.
The other side to this misguided coin is an insistence on seeing all
other nations and cultures through an American lens as if Disney’s image
of multiculturalism provided in Orlando’s Epcot is a window into global
reality. And how does this manifest in the context of politics? One
clear example is the projection of American politics onto other
political movements in Europe.
How many times have British conservative politicians or figures been
celebrated by American conservatives as their ideological counterparts,
with even President Donald Trump praising former Prime Minister Boris Johnson as the British Trump?
How often do American conservatives celebrate nations such as Hungary
for their supposed commitment to conservative principles? How often do
American conservatives throw their weight behind foreign political
campaigns after skimming the blurb and picking the self-professed
conservative choice, as with Department of Government Efficiency leader
Elon Musk’s recent rush to cheer on the German AfD party?
But at the center of these misguided alignments, and so many others,
is a fundamental misunderstanding: the assumption that foreign
conservatism bears any meaningful resemblance to American conservatism.
Newsflash, it doesn’t. In fact, it’s about as similar as chalk and
cheese.
American conservatism is built upon a set of foundational principles,
principles enshrined in the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. The
rights to free speech, gun ownership, freedom of religion, and freedom
of assembly and the notion of limited government are not mere policy
preferences. They are the core tenets that define what it means to be an
American conservative. At least, they used to be.
True American conservatism is not just a political leaning. It is a
philosophy rooted in the preservation of individual liberty and our
God-given inalienable rights. Meanwhile, European conservatism is mere
branding. What passes for “conservatism” in Europe depends entirely on
the alternative, which often makes it little more than a nationalistic
version of its left-wing opposition with a half-hearted call for
marginally lower taxes and a growing opposition to unfettered illegal
immigration.
Sure, these European conservative parties might occasionally borrow
from the American conservative playbook in terms of their rhetoric,
speaking passionately of freedom or tradition or liberty, but they lack
the ideological backbone and the political will to turn these words into
action. Let alone the fact that American conservatism is tied to the
ideology that birthed the nation itself. European conservatism is tied
to nothing.
In the United Kingdom, the Conservative Party enjoyed power for more
than a decade before being unseated by Keir Starmer’s Labour Party. What
conservative values that are central to American conservatism did the
Conservative Party defend? The U.K. is still anti-gun, still
pro-abortion, still pro-socialized medicine, and still hostile to free
speech.
Our trans-Atlantic cousins have hate speech laws that criminalize
political expression, knife control laws that would be laughable if they
weren’t so dystopian, and a public healthcare system that is as
mandatory as it is inefficient. If that’s what passes for
“conservatism,” count me out.
Hungary’s right-wing populist Fidesz party, led by Viktor Orban,
is often praised by American conservatives for its hard-line stance on
immigration and defense of national identity. While there certainly are
aspects of Orban’s policies that merit discussion, let’s not kid
ourselves. Hungary is not a beacon of conservatism in the American
sense, and its claims of conservative victories often rely on a heavy
dose of marketing-based creativity.
What about Germany’s Alternative fur Deutschland? While it brands
itself as a nationalist, anti-globalist party while being arguably and
oxymoronically pro-Russia, it is by no means a party that champions the
ideals of small government and individual liberty. Germany remains
deeply embedded in the European Union’s bureaucratic nightmare, and the
AfD, despite its populist rhetoric, has shown no real commitment to
dismantling this supranational control. Just like there is no word for
“fluffy” in German, there is no German word for “small government.”
Then there’s France, where “conservatism” is often nothing more than a
slightly slower march toward socialism. Marine Le Pen’s National Rally
party may reject mass immigration and Islamic extremism, but it is
hardly a bastion of free-market policy or constitutional rights. You
could even argue that it represents a nationalist brand of leftism, with
economic policies that would make Sen. Bernie Sanders (I-VT) blush.
Of course, the “America First” crowd will now ask: Why does this
matter? Well, because if you care about American conservatism, you
should care when our flag bearers start waving other flags at the same
time. While it’s obvious that European politicians have a lot to gain by
aligning themselves with us, when we align with European
“conservatives” in return, despite sharing few or no actual ideological
positions, we risk diluting our movement and becoming more like them.
If American conservatives look to Europe for inspiration, we risk
normalizing the idea that big government is acceptable as long as it
wears a different hat, and we risk embracing a watered-down version of
our own ideology that makes room for policies we would otherwise reject.
The truth is we don’t need to look abroad for examples of
conservatism. We already have the greatest example right here at home.
We are a nation built on not only independence from a foreign government
but independence from big government, a nation that enshrined
inalienable rights into our Constitution.
Instead of looking to Europe for guidance, we should be strengthening
what makes American conservatism unique. We should be fighting to
uphold the principles of limited government, free markets, and
individual liberties — not seeking validation from parties that wouldn’t
recognize true conservatism if it smacked them on the nose.
So, the next time you see a European politician being lauded as the
“Trump of [insert country here],” take a step back and ask yourself:
What do they actually stand for? Do they defend the right to bear arms?
Do they oppose government overreach in healthcare and the economy? Do
they protect free speech from government interference? If the answer is
no, non, or nein, then they are not conservative in the American sense.
And the American sense of conservatism is the only one that matters.
Here’s a radical idea: Stop looking to Europe. We are still the best.
Act like it.