Author: theof

(Max Planck Institute for Human Development, Berlin)

I would like to shift our attention to a different dimension of democracy and use the online space we are currently inhabiting as a springboard for thinking about what could be called transatlantic communicative alliances that can serve both as support for democracy and a means of addressing its challenges.

In doing so, I want to connect to several themes discussed in previous panels: the need to be engaged and to engage others, the evolving role of media, the tension between group-centered and horizontal communication, and the emotional dimensions of nationalism.

With the Enlightenment public sphere in mind, one might ask: could social media be considered the twenty-first-century version of the eighteenth-century coffeehouse—full of energy, noise, shortcomings, and symbolic meaning? Might it serve as a tool of political participation, a new forum for democratic deliberation, and an open space for fostering citizenship? To some extent, it already has.

Barack Obama famously pioneered the use of social media in participatory politics nearly two decades ago. He organized online town halls, launched an AMA thread on Reddit (“Ask me Anything”), and allowed users to share his iconic “Hope” poster, making political participation only a click away. In contrast, Trump’s first term marked the beginning of social media as the central platform not only for political discourse but also for institutional communication. In Trump’s second term, Vice President J.D. Vance appears equally “terminally online.”

Social media is often criticized for undermining democracy because its structure benefits populist communication styles: short, emotional, and sensationalist content that thrives on moral outrage and amplifies interpersonal emotions. Empirical research suggests that collective emotions, particularly those tied to identity and grievance, are exaggerated online. In addition, social media remains saturated with misinformation, conspiracy theories, hate speech, and abuse. Yet despite these pitfalls or perhaps because of them, social media retains enormous cultural and political influence. About 85% of Americans use YouTube, 70% use Facebook, 50% use Instagram, and around 30% use TikTok. X (formerly Twitter), while used by only 21% of Americans, ranks first among platforms people use to stay informed about political issues. Overall, 71% of U.S. adults use social media, compared to 59% in the UK.

These patterns do not map neatly onto generational divides—they reveal deeper social fault lines. For example, women are more likely to use Instagram, Hispanic Americans often use WhatsApp, Black Americans favor Facebook, higher income correlates with use of X, and lower education correlates with preference for TikTok. Social media has been especially effective in mobilizing previously disengaged voters, an important base for populist movements, precisely because it allows for customized messages to fragmented publics.

Moreover, political messaging online often blurs domestic and international boundaries. Issues like migration are reframed not as national concerns, but as shared transatlantic struggles. As a result, parties and platforms with vastly different policies can appear superficially aligned to evoke a sense of common cause.

A previous panelist (Colin Berg) mentioned that Kamala Harris’s refusal to appear on Joe Rogan’s podcast was a strategic error. With over almost 15 million followers, Rogan’s show is the most popular on Spotify and especially influential among young male voters, a group notoriously difficult to reach. This dynamic was evident in the German context as well. During the last election cycle, a transatlantic media alliance between Elon Musk and the far-right AfD party played out on X, where Musk publicly interviewed the AfD’s leader Alice Weidel.

Historically, many early social movements, from the American and French Revolutions to abolitionism, women’s suffrage, and temperance, relied on transatlantic communication and shared activist networks. Today’s democratic alliances must do the same, harnessing digital media fluently and critically. However, we should not assume that polarization is always best addressed through consensus, nor should polemics be entirely avoided. Social media’s global reach may be vulnerable to abuse, distortion, and disruption by AI, but it still offers a remarkable opportunity to generate democratic passion and engagement. This potential must be actively developed through a deliberate and thoughtful transatlantic communicative alliance.

(University Utrecht)

I want to begin by sincerely thanking the organizers for this excellent series and for the invitation to join such a distinguished panel. I am truly happy to contribute. I would like to make three main points today framed by the current context here in the Netherlands, in June 2025, at the eve of the NATO Summit in The Hague.

1. NATO and the Strange Celebration

Right now, in the Netherlands, there is a sense of mayhem in the air. The NATO summit has arrived in our capital. While “celebrating” might not be quite the right word, the event has certainly been staged and framed as a kind of ceremonial marriage, marking decades of NATO and the transatlantic alliance between Europe and the United States.

Yet many Dutch citizens are asking: Why is half of The Hague shut down? Why are there so many police, military vehicles, and helicopters? And for what? Will this summit even produce tangible outcomes? There is also the lingering question of whether President Trump will show up at all. This moment feels surreal: the Netherlands has lobbied for years to host such a summit just as other countries have. But now that it is here, people are asking: What, exactly, are we hosting? What is the meaning of this transatlantic relationship in the present?

• Transatlantic Alliance: Always Transactional

Let me shift to a broader historical reflection based on research I have been involved with at Utrecht over the last decade as part of a project called “Reconstructing Europe: Blueprints of Hope.” What we found, through deep archival and theoretical work, is that the transatlantic relationship, from the very beginning, was never a simple “love affair.” It was always a transactional marriage of convenience, not a romantic bond based on mutual understanding. The foundations of postwar Europe were laid through a web of interlinked treaties: Bretton Woods, the Marshall Plan, the NATO Treaty, and the early European Coal and Steel Community agreements. All of these were part of a strategic package, negotiated primarily in the late 1940s.

Let me illustrate this with a story.

The key U.S. figure who came to Europe to broker these deals was Paul G. Hoffman—a car salesman, the Elon Musk of his era. He had led Studebaker, and later headed the Marshall Plan administration. He was tasked with making promises to Europeans. His pitch to them was: You will get investment and aid as long as you commit to rearming and investing in U.S. defense manufacturers. That included companies like Lockheed Martin, Boeing, General Dynamics, Raytheon, and Northrop Grumma, all of which, still today, consume the bulk of European defense budgets. This was not a neutral gift. It was a strategic deal, with strings attached. So again, my point is that: the transatlantic relationship was never purely values based; it was built on exchange, leverage, and economic conditionality.

• The Relationship Was Always Fragile

Let’s be honest – this relationship has always had hiccups, moments of distrust and tension. Consider:

• In the 1950s, Eisenhower threatened to withdraw U.S. troops from Europe unless certain defense demands were met.
• In the 1960s, Charles de Gaulle pulled France out of NATO’s integrated command and declared nuclear independence.
• In the 1970s and 1980s, anti-American terrorism targeted military installations in West Germany and the Netherlands.
• During the NATO double-track crisis (1979–85), the Dutch Parliament refused to ratify U.S. missile deployments, prompting Moscow’s Politburo to label the Netherlands the “weakest link” in NATO.

These patterns reveal something consistent: the United States pushes, whether for military spending, tariff reductions, or strategic compliance, and Europe often drags its feet, tries to bandwagon, or simply refuses. This has always been the tension at the heart of the alliance. And today, if we are going to celebrate this “marriage,” we need to do so with open eyes. We should recognize it for what it is: at most transactional, and certainly not unconditional.

• Closing Thought: A Realistic Picture of Europe’s Role

In the Netherlands, we have a saying that captures our current sentiment: “We want to keep the parents together for the sake of the children.” The “parents” in this metaphor are the United States, and Europe is the “children” including countries like the Netherlands which still need the security umbrella that this relationship provides. We know we are not yet ready to stand alone militarily. It may take another six to nine years to build up the capacities required to confront Russia or other global threats on our own terms.

So yes, we need this relationship. However, we need it not as a myth, not as a nostalgic illusion, but as a realist, culturalist, economic, and security compact, one that evolves, one that is self-aware, and one that acknowledges the very real crisis we are in. Thank you.