The Rhineland as an Object of International Politics — Carl Schmitt
Lecture delivered on April 14, 1925 at the Millennium Celebration (4th Rhine Conference) of the Rhineland Center Party
The lecture was based on the following guiding principles:
Modern imperialism has developed new methods of control and exploitation that avoid open political annexation (protectorates, mandates, lease agreements, and intervention treaties). Applying these methods to peoples and parts of peoples of European culture and education would be no less an injustice than outright coercion through political annexation.
Civic loyalty and a legal mindset are only possible where state power is clearly and unambiguously defined with its authority and responsibility. Government systems that abolish state authority, establish permanent rule by mixed commissions, and employ other forms of erosion and concealment destroy both the possibility of civic-mindedness and the Christian concept of authority.
It is painful to speak of the Rhineland as an object of international politics. However, the danger that the Rhineland could fall into such a state, and that the Rhineland people could be reduced to a mere annex of an object, still exists. Throughout our thousand-year history, the shadow of this danger has often fallen upon us. The terrible separatist period and the crisis of autumn 1923 are still fresh in everyone's memory. At that time, not only did the possibility of a separation from Germany arise, but also the deep immorality of a situation that occurs when state authority disintegrates and a people are driven into political despair. Today, many believe that the worst has been fortunately overcome. Other plans and combinations, whose realization would no less turn the Rhineland into an object of foreign politics, may seem harmless to us today compared to those grim months, mere empty projects that arise by the dozens in turbulent times. But we must not abandon our caution and must keep an eye on these plans and intentions as well.
We hear of efforts to separate the demilitarized zone established by the Treaty of Versailles, essentially the Rhineland, from the rest of Germany through special arrangements and controls and to create a legal distinction between the two; to establish a special regime through a system of permanent international commissions, with extensive powers of influence and control, thereby more or less eliminating German state authority; to turn the Rhineland into a kind of extended Saar territory, or finally, simply to transform the land and people into material for security measures through an indefinite occupation. How much of these plans will be realized will be shown in the coming months and years. Here, it is necessary to remind of such pending projects because they all share a common feature: to make the Rhineland an object of international politics and to organize and legalize this object status, after these lands have already become a kind of pawn due to the occupation.
It is part of the political consciousness, to which a history of a thousand years obliges and entitles us, that we clearly understand the particular, new, and, if I may say so, modern nature of this danger. The forms and methods by which a country and a people are made objects of international politics have changed and are no longer the same as in the 19th century. Old words and habits of thinking persist and can easily obscure political reality. A good-natured person might believe today that no European country could ever feel more secure than it does right now. For the long history of the struggle for the Rhine was a history of the struggle for the political annexation of Rhineland territories, just as the struggle for Alsace-Lorraine was a struggle for annexations. But today, no one speaks of annexation anymore. In the name of freedom and the right to self-determination of even small peoples and nations, the world fought a war for four years. Numerous new states have emerged on the basis of the right to self-determination and the principle of nationalities. Strange disruptions and shifts of natural boundaries and affiliations have been justified by this principle. Wilson declared on February 11, 1918, in response to the German statement on peace, "that peoples and provinces are not to be bartered about from sovereignty to sovereignty as if they were mere chattels or pawns in a game," and furthermore, "that every territorial question arising out of this war must be settled in the interest and for the benefit of the populations concerned and not as a matter of mere adjustment or compromise of claims among rival states".
In the proposals and drafts of the French delegates at the Paris Peace Conference in the spring of 1919, it was repeatedly demanded that Germany's western border should coincide with the Rhine, but it was always emphasized that the left bank of the Rhine was not to be annexed. The public opinion of the entire world seems to be outraged at the thought that a people could be made the object of an annexation. Hearing so much about the right of peoples to self-determination, one could easily believe that today no people could ever again become an object of international politics, for self-determination surely means that a people, as a subject, determines its own political and state existence, which is the opposite of becoming an object.
But let us stick to what our thousand-year history so emphatically teaches us: our caution. Today, when a politically educated person hears that the great naval powers have convened a disarmament conference and decided to limit the construction of giant warships, the so-called capital ships, they might easily suspect that this disarmament, which is certainly very welcome, only affects outdated types but unfortunately not the truly modern weapons that matter, namely air fleets and submarines. Similarly, this cautious person, when they see how generously ideal principles are being granted, might not suppress the suspicion that the renunciation of annexations is perhaps a renunciation of a method that is no longer relevant because other, more effective and advantageous methods have been found. Indeed, the old continental European method of political annexation, as exemplified by the struggle over Alsace-Lorraine, appears from the perspective of modern world politics to be quite outdated. In the age of imperialism, other forms of control have developed, which specifically avoid open political subjugation and allow the country to be controlled to remain a state. Indeed, if necessary, a new independent state is created, whose freedom and sovereignty are explicitly proclaimed, so that it seems to be the opposite of what might be termed the degradation of a people into an object of foreign politics.
This development can be seen in several examples. Initially, in the 19th century, the great powers gave the so-called protectorate a new content and primarily controlled semi-civilized states whose populations they could not grant citizenship rights. This was done by taking over the external political representation of the state, establishing a kind of guardianship while allowing the "protected" state a certain degree of independent internal political existence. This method needs only to be mentioned here. It concerns states that are not civilized in the European sense, such as Tunisia, Morocco, and the Malay protectorates. This could reassure a European greatly. Additionally, the development in the Balkans, particularly since 1878, has felt its way towards national independence through so-called protectorates. Romania, Bulgaria, and Serbia became free states in this manner. In the case of Bosnia and Herzegovina, which had been under Austro-Hungarian administration since 1878, there was an outright annexation in 1908. Thus, one might conclude from this development in the Balkans that a European people must either achieve national independence or be openly annexed. How justified this optimism regarding the form of a protectorate is, unfortunately, can remain undecided, not only because Danzig's foreign representation has been politically transferred to Poland — this can only be referred to as a real protectorate based on superficial analogies — but especially for another reason: the form of the protectorate is itself already outdated and has been replaced by a new procedure, which consists of allowing the state to be controlled to maintain its capacity for external action, explicitly recognizing it as free and independent, even granting it the label of sovereignty, but securing control under the guise of "supervision" through the occupation of key points, economic exploitation, or peculiar rights of intervention.
Today, England rules over Egypt, even though the English protectorate was formally abolished in 1922 and Egypt was recognized as a free sovereign state. England's rule is legally based on four reservations made at the time of recognition, which grant England the right to intervene: the defense and protection of the Suez Canal by England; protection of foreign interests in Egypt by England; protection of Egypt against foreign attacks by England; administration of the Sudan, i.e., the upper Nile, by England. This suffices as a legal basis to make an Anglo-Egyptian conflict appear as an internal matter of England, as happened in November 1924 (following the assassination of an English officer). It was also sufficient to dissolve, within 12 hours of its convening, a parliament that was not agreeable to the English in March 1925. A concept like "protection of foreign interests," due to its vagueness, is particularly well-suited to give an intervention right based on it the character of true control.
The so-called control of the United States of America over Cuba, Haiti, San Domingo, and Panama should also be mentioned here. The "controlled" state is described as free, independent, and sovereign, even though its entire political existence is determined by the United States in crucial cases. The four instances of this U.S. control differ significantly from one another. The characteristic feature is that a legal form of control has developed, which consists of combining a right of occupation with a right of intervention. The right of intervention means that the intervening state decides on certain vague concepts essential to the political existence of the other state, such as the protection of foreign interests, protection of independence, public order and security, compliance with international treaties, etc. With all these rights of intervention, it is always important to note that, due to the vagueness of such terms, the controlling power decides at its discretion, thereby retaining the political existence of the controlled state in its hands.
Lastly, it should be briefly noted that, according to the Treaty of Versailles, the German colonies were not annexed by the Allied powers or taken over as colonies; instead, they were given the form of so-called mandates, exercised in the name of the League of Nations. For the so-called A mandates (Syria, Palestine, Iraq), it is even stated that these communities have reached such a stage of development "that their existence as independent nations can be provisionally recognized, subject to the condition that the advice and assistance of a mandatory will guide their administration until such time as they are able to stand alone" (Article 22 of the Treaty of Versailles). Nevertheless, it must be said that Britain effectively rules over Palestine and Iraq, and France over Syria, because the mandatory itself decides what constitutes security and order in these territories, the extent of their independence, and how far they are capable of self-governance, etc.
To understand the purpose of these new methods that avoid open political annexation or incorporation, we must first ask what interest prevents the ruling power from pursuing annexation. The most immediate interest is very clear and simple: it aims to prevent the population of the controlled territory from acquiring the citizenship of the ruling state. This interest in keeping undesirable new citizens away shows how much conditions have changed over the course of the 19th century. In traditional European politics, the idea prevailed that an increase in population equaled an increase in power. This was possible in the age of cabinet diplomacy and absolute governments. However, a democratic constitution forces states to be cautious about population growth, as obviously not every population can be granted equal citizenship rights. In states that adhere to the nationality principle and are pure nation-states, segments of the population of foreign nationality are often very undesirable. This tendency to keep foreigners away is even more evident in an imperialist state, as such a state wants to dominate the world economically but, of course, does not want to share the benefits of this dominance.
There are additional reasons why open political annexation might be seen as disadvantageous. According to the international legal doctrine of so-called state succession, i.e., the principles to be observed when a territory changes state control, in the case of acquiring a territory, not only would the population of the acquired territory have to acquire the nationality of the acquiring state, but this state would also have to assume some of the obligations of the predecessor state, including taking over national debts, either wholly or in part. Here again, avoiding political annexation has the advantage that, legally speaking, the consequences of state succession are avoided. Instead of such succession, a system of intervention rights is created.
The result of this method is that words like independence, freedom, self-determination, and sovereignty lose their old meanings. The political power of the controlled state is more or less hollowed out. It no longer has the ability to decide its political fate in a decisive conflict. It can no longer dispose of its economic resources. It does not matter if the right of foreign intervention is only exercised in exceptional cases when all goes well. What matters is that the controlled or dominated state no longer finds the decisive norm for its political actions in its own existence, but in the interests and decisions of a foreign power. A foreign power intervenes when it appears to be in its own political interest, to maintain what it defines as security and order, the protection of foreign interests and private property (i.e., its financial capital), or the observance of international treaties. It decides on those vague concepts on which its right to intervene is based, and because of their vagueness, it has limitless power. The self-determination of a people thereby loses its substance. A foreign power dictates what it finds of interest and determines what "order" is; the uninterested remainder is gladly left to the controlled people under names like sovereignty and freedom.
We must never forget what an expert from the United States said at the Paris Peace Conference in 1919 during the discussions on the Saar region—his name is Dr. Haskins, a name we should also not forget: he stated with the utmost self-evidence that controlling a country’s natural resources does not fall under its right to self-determination. Thus, the ground can literally be taken from under a people's feet, even though they still bear the name of a free and even sovereign people.
These modern methods, which avoid the word "domination" and prefer "control," differ in a crucial way from the old-style political annexation. Through political annexation, the annexed entity was incorporated into the ruling state. This is by no means being defended here as an ideal, but it did at least have the advantage of being open and visible. The victor took on political responsibility and representation along with the land and its people. The annexed territory even had the possibility of becoming a part of the new state, merging with it, and thus escaping the humiliating situation of being merely an object. All of this is missing from modern methods. The controlling state secures all the military and economic benefits of annexation without its burdens. An English jurist, Baty, articulates a particularly interesting consequence of modern methods as follows: the population of such territories has neither real citizenship rights nor the protections enjoyed by foreigners and outsiders. What appears as state authority within the controlled country is more or less dependent on the decisions of the foreign power and is merely a facade for its rule, which is made invisible through a system of treaties.
In the previous examples, European peoples were not discussed. Protectorates and mandates are even officially considered forms of rule over semi- or uncivilized peoples. With edifying words, Article 22 of the League of Nations Covenant speaks of peoples "who are not yet able to stand by themselves under the strenuous conditions of the modern world" and therefore "must be placed under the tutelage of a mandatory." But the world is small, and most importantly, the old, traditional notion that still largely dominated international law practice in the 19th century—the division of humanity into Christian and non-Christian, which formed the basis of respect for European peoples—has disappeared. A chasm separates us from the time when international law textbooks still spoke of Christian international law and the rights of Christian nations. The greatest step on the path to this dethronement of Europe was the Treaty of Versailles. I do not mean to say that it abolished Germany's sovereignty. But if that is not the case, if Germany still has the possibility of pursuing a German policy within a modest framework, it is due partly to the number of adversaries it submitted to in this treaty and also to developments in recent years, but not to the treaty itself.
The intention here is not to criticize this instrument. It is only necessary to point out that the treaty contains several of those dangerous, vague terms that could become the basis for constant interventions if their full implications are not immediately recognized. They could turn all of Germany into a political object. These terms particularly concern the Rhineland, which is, for all such endeavors, the most immediate object and the given stage.
Here belong the following terms, which are often mentioned and each of which could determine Germany's fate: reparations, sanctions, investigation, and occupation. The scope of reparations, as outlined in the Treaty of Versailles, was so limitless that it essentially meant perpetual subjugation for Germany. Only after long and agonizing efforts was the current arrangement of the Dawes Plan reached, which at least provides an overview of the extent of Germany's obligations.
The right of sanctions can also entail a complete and renewed subjugation of Germany, especially if it is interpreted unilaterally and arbitrarily. Under such an interpretation, any allied power, citing either Article 18 of Annex 2 to Part VIII, Section 1 of the Treaty of Versailles, or a general, limitless right of reprisal, could militarily occupy German territory and seize German industry. The investigative right granted to the League of Nations over Germany, as per Article 213, as long as the Treaty of Versailles is in effect—the so-called right of investigation, which can be exercised by a majority decision of the League of Nations Council—also opens up the potential for unlimited interpretations. This is especially concerning when one considers that modern warfare is conducted not only with military means in the narrow sense but also encompasses the entire industry and economy of a country.
Regarding occupation, specifically the occupation of German territory, whose main stage is the Rhineland, both the strength of the occupying forces and the authority of the occupation authorities are extraordinarily broad. When these authorities are empowered to do whatever they deem necessary for the "security and dignity of the occupying forces," we again encounter one of those vague concepts, like the protection of foreign interests, that can undermine the state authority of the occupied territory and, in critical times like the autumn of 1923, eliminate it altogether. The durations of the occupations are also described in such a way that they suggest the possibility of a unilateral interpretation. For example, if the Cologne zone is to be evacuated after five years on the condition that the treaty has been "faithfully fulfilled" (Article 429), the immediate question arises: who decides on the faithful fulfillment? And are the countless pretexts and ambiguities that such phrases give rise to subject to the political discretion of one of the contracting parties?
Finally, the well-known thesis of Poincaré, that the occupation periods, including the one of 15 years, have not even begun to run yet, should be mentioned briefly here. It shows the whole abyss of uncertainty of which Germany can fall victim under this treaty. The consequence of all these systematic uncertainties is dreadful. After all, a peace treaty is supposed to have the purpose and intention of ending the war and establishing a state of peace. However, these uncertainties leave the boundary between war and peace itself indeterminate, and fundamental concepts such as war and peace—without whose clear distinction coexistence among nations is impossible—lose their simple meaning and dissolve into a torturous intermediate state.
We live, therefore, in a world where old words and names are losing their meaning, and old political and state relationships are becoming confused. Up until now, we have discussed the specific new political dangers of such a situation. Even more important, however, and with unforeseeable consequences, are the moral dangers that arise from it. No human society can exist without open and clear authority. Lawfulness and decency in everyday life become impossible if honest respect for political power and state law is no longer possible because both have become mere facades for other, invisible forces. Every honest person submits to the lawful authority of their country. Only in this way are integrity and loyalty in all aspects of public life possible. However, no civilized people could demonstrate feelings of loyalty and fidelity to a mere construct calculated to obscure reality, a government apparatus functioning in the service of foreign powers. This is a fundamental social fact and a moral given. Christian moral theologians demand, as a genuinely moral duty, that one must show respect for authority, both external respect, reverentia externa, and internal respect, reverentia interna. This is part of the general Christian duty to be subject to authority because "all authority comes from God" (Romans 13:1). A great moral danger exists in this modern development where the Christian concept of authority could disappear altogether.
One might argue here that our concepts of the state and state authority have often changed throughout history; even in the Middle Ages, political relations were highly unclear, a colorful mix of feudal and corporate connections. Moreover, there have always been political lies and complex political entities, joint dominions of various kinds, vassal states, multiple sovereignties, rival kings, military occupations, and revolutionary transition periods. However, these do not represent the modern, systematic hollowing out of politics and its use to obscure real power. During a revolution, the struggle for political power may remain undecided for months; during a war, unbearable conditions may arise in the occupied country. All these are indeed actual difficulties and dangerous conditions with specific moral and legal questions. However, they do not concern the concept of authority itself. There is no tearing apart of state and actual power, nor is state authority used as a facade to obscure true power. It is not the case that real power deliberately remains hidden and is exercised by people who have no intention of stepping out of the irresponsibility of private life and openly representing the state power of the country over which they rule. Instead, they prefer to make political power their agent. As for medieval conditions, they were by no means ideal; nevertheless, given the personal character of all social relationships, the individual generally knew to whom he owed loyalty and obedience, and the liege lord openly demanded this loyalty for his person and not for an anonymous consortium.
Hence, the numerous theological and legal discussions of the Middle Ages and the 16th and 17th centuries do not know our modern problem. They speak of the limits of obedience owed to authority, the abuse of authoritative power, and the right of resistance against authority. In doing so, they tacitly assume as self-evident that authority presents itself openly as an entity with the full force of political will. They speak of the "tyrant." The tyrant abuses his power, but he also exposes himself as a political entity with all the risks of politics. He demands obedience and loyalty, rightly or wrongly, but in any case, for himself, in full openness. He claims sovereignty and represents it. The publicity inherent in this representation is assumed as self-evident. It truly belongs to the concept of authority. However, modern methods aim to conceal actual power and turn the public presence and representation of state life into an empty facade. Today, we are witnessing the first highly dangerous attempts to transfer methods of modern industrial and financial practice to political and state life, hiding the real power relations in a system of shell companies and dummy corporations and keeping them invisible. The characteristic of our time is that the real power holder wants to remain hidden, does not wish to rule anymore, but only to "control." There is less and less talk of authority and more and more of freedom and independence, even though today there is no less domination and subjugation than in many other times.
In the field of international law concerning the occupation of foreign territories, the old legal and moral principles are still officially recognized. This entire doctrine of military occupation in war and peace is governed by the perspective that such occupations are only temporary, a provisional arrangement of relatively short duration. An occupation does not create a new authority to which one owes loyalty; rather, the old, legitimate state authority remains in place until a definitive resolution is reached. A renowned French textbook on international law, Bonfils-Fauchille, emphasizes that officials of an occupied territory should not forget that the interest of the district, province, or municipality is secondary to the overall interest of their homeland. While the occupying authorities must be obeyed in matters related to the occupation, this obligation is distinct from the duty of loyalty to the legitimate state authority. Such a state can, by its nature, only be temporary and of short duration; this is what makes it legally and morally bearable. However, difficult situations and conflicts can indeed arise, posing a serious moral danger to the legal sense of the population of such a territory. Yet, theoretically, the distinction remains clear: the aforementioned moral duties owed to the legitimate state authority do not apply to the occupying power or its authorities.
The danger becomes even more pronounced when the concept of occupation is transformed into one of those intentionally vague terms used to obscure political purposes. If an international commission were to act as a state authority, it would represent the extreme culmination of modern methods, turning a country and its people into an object of international politics. This is because an international commission cannot be a subject of rights and duties as derived from the Christian concept of authority.
International commissions are inevitable and very useful in an age of intensive inter-state relations. For the purposes of joint consultation and handling administrative and technical matters, they hold great importance. They have long proven their worth, as exemplified by the famous European Commission for the Danube. Many international commissions function effectively in this manner. It need not be said that such organizations are not in question here. The danger and moral unacceptable nature of the situation arises when an international commission presents itself as a bearer of sovereign authority and state power over a European people. Every European nation with some national consciousness would be outraged by the thought of being ruled and governed by foreigners. This outrage reflects a profound moral sentiment, as the state and nation are among the natural communities upon which human coexistence is based. However, the moral outrage is even deeper and greater when the rule is not exercised by a single foreigner, but by a consortium of different foreigners. Imagine Italy, instead of experiencing simple foreign dominations throughout its history, being ruled by a consortium of foreigners, such as an Englishman, a Frenchman, a Czech, and a Chinese! The enormity of such a foreign rule is greater than that of a single foreigner who openly acknowledges his rule. The feeling of being oppressed by a foreigner combines with the horror of international oppression and the sense of being not just an object of simple domination but simultaneously an object of a compromise between different powers. What Wilson specifically condemned as immoral, that nations are made the subject of balancing and compromising competing states, finds its specific organizational form in the rule of an international commission. A people governed in this manner faces a functioning government apparatus that embodies not a particular foreigner but a relationship between foreigners, adding the deceit of anonymity to the wrong of foreign rule. The horror of this state of affairs would spread even if individual delegates and members of such a commission were filled with the best intentions. What belongs to real state authority, and what even a single tyrant might be able to do—namely, that the common good of the people, the bonum commune, determines the purpose of their rule—becomes impossible due to the inter-state nature of such an entity.
If one were to subject such an international commission to the control of the League of Nations, a certain correction might be possible in detail. However, the fundamentally immoral nature of such a state would not be mitigated but rather intensified. The concealment, anonymity, and invisibility would reach their utmost degree. The League of Nations—referring here specifically to the Geneva institution that has existed for the past five years, and not to any ideals or expectations—should not be disparaged. It can be useful and might become even more so in many ways. The issue is not what positive value one attributes to it, whether one sees it as a mere alliance, a genuine federation, or a system of guarantees to protect the status quo established by the Treaty of Versailles, whether it is a highly useful mediation and arbitration body for international disputes, a permanent forum for negotiation and conferences, a clearing office, or at least an "atmosphere". What it is certainly not is a possible subject of state authority or a potential bearer of authority in the Christian sense of the term. It is not a recipient of the feelings of loyalty, devotion, and inner respect that the Christian concept of authority demands, and it would be blasphemous to say that this intricately organized consortium is "from God." Fifty-four states of various kinds, connected by a highly unclear and indefinite treaty with legal characteristics that remain ambiguous, with two very different organs, the League Council and the Assembly, whose competencies are also left undefined—such a construction cannot possess, exercise, or hold sovereignty and authority.
It is telling of the confusion of concepts and the naive and thoughtless transfer of private and commercial legal ideas to moral questions of public, state, and national life that anyone could have seriously proposed the idea of the League of Nations as a sovereign. Sovereignty, state power, authority, and legitimacy primarily presuppose clear definition of their subject. The League of Nations is a legal relationship between states, not a state authority. It is a description of the process by which the great powers seek to reach agreement on certain issues. It serves as a mode of control over specific matters like Danzig, the Saar Basin, or the mandates, though this control is highly problematic. However, to call it a sovereign would be nonsensical. The fact that mandates over former German colonies and territories like Palestine, Syria, and Iraq are exercised in the name of the League, and that it is the trustee of sovereignty in the Saar Basin, does not change this. Some legal scholars claim that the League is sovereign in the mandates because the mandate is exercised in its name. By the same logic, one could call humanity, civilization, or freedom sovereign wherever actions are undertaken in their name. For now, the Geneva League of Nations is nothing more than a system of inter-state relations dominated by various political interests, with its principal organ, the League Council, being a particularly interesting case of an international commission. No European with any sense of national consciousness would seriously be expected to extend the feelings of loyalty and respect that a sincere people would have for its state towards this body. Just like any other international commission, the League cannot be an authority in the Christian sense of the word, as it itself is merely an international commission.
In the recent past, Europe has witnessed a clear example of its remaining sense of state authority, as evidenced by the reaction to a decree from the Saar territory’s government commission dated March 7, 1923. This decree threatened imprisonment of up to five years for anyone who publicly disparaged the Treaty of Versailles, the League of Nations, its members, or the signatory powers of the treaty, or for defaming or slandering the government of the Saar or its members. The astonishment at such a severe penalty illustrates that there is still a shared European sentiment recognizing the fundamental nature of genuine state authority.
The decree’s attempt to shield the League of Nations, the Treaty of Versailles, and an international commission from any criticism reflects an effort to afford them the same respect and loyalty that one would give to one’s own state. This reaction highlights a residual awareness of the essential principles of honesty and integrity in public life. It suggests that there is still an understanding that not every administrative or international construct can be equated with genuine state authority.
Maintaining this awareness is crucial. There is hope that attempts to reduce the Rhineland to an object of international politics using modern methods will be rendered insignificant by this moral consciousness, failing to see the light of day and fading into the obscurity from which they stem. It is about preserving the possibility of honest and decent life.
As humans, Christians, Europeans, and Germans, there is a responsibility to safeguard our ancestral land and beloved homeland from becoming an arena for international politics and dealings, ensuring that our people do not lose their integrity and straightforwardness in a system of obfuscation and political agents. This is fundamentally about upholding simple, daily principles that affect every individual’s life: to live honorably, to harm no one, and to give everyone their due. These principles—honeste vivere, neminem laedere, suum cuique tribuere—are foundational to all legality and trust.
In times of danger, the practical significance of these words becomes evident. Our honor would be compromised if our land and its people became mere objects or annexes of such objects. Despite our awareness of current dangers, we hold firm to three unshakeable values: truth, freedom, and justice. What might have seemed like mere empty phrases in calmer times now gains significance as we face attempts to distort the truth, constrain freedom, and obfuscate justice through complex constructions. Amidst the confused political conditions of today, these simple concepts should guide us. Although we might appear small and powerless in the vast dimensions of today’s imperialistic world politics, our moral awareness remains steadfast. No nation is too small to remain conscious of its rights. In the face of attempts to make us political objects within various systems, we will always uphold these three fundamental and elemental concepts:
Truth, freedom, and justice!