Does Democracy Still Exist Beyond the Ballot?

“[T]he question is not whether democracy still exists in name, but whether it still exists in substance.”

Are we looking at a democracy in peril?

There is a strange contradiction at the heart of contemporary democracy, especially in Europe and North America. Ask people whether they believe in democratic values, and most will say yes, without hesitation. Democracy is still treated as a moral badge. Something “we” have, something that distinguishes us from the rest of the world. Yet, if we listen closely to the discussions about rights today, who deserves them, under what conditions, and how easily they can be suspended, where does that leave us?

Democracy is no longer being questioned openly, but it is being hollowed out quietly, through exceptions, conditions, and the subtle redefinition of who truly belongs. Human rights, once framed as universal, are increasingly treated as negotiable and ‘tailored’ to the context in which they are presented. Protections for minorities are questioned in the name of cohesion. Gender equality is framed as ideological excess. Even freedom of thought, belief and religion, which is one of the cornerstones of democratic life, is discussed as something that should be monitored, restricted, or tolerated only up to a certain point.

The language has shifted. Rights are no longer something you have by virtue of being human. They are something you must constantly prove you deserve, or accidentally be born in a setting that gives you the privilege to have them.

This shift matters because it reveals something deeper than political disagreements. It exposes a growing discomfort with pluralism itself.

Religious-based discrimination is the symptom, not the disease

Religious intolerance has always existed. What has changed is how easily it is woven into democratic language. Religious minorities are increasingly spoken about as problems to be managed rather than citizens to be included. Places of worship are discussed as eyesores or threats. Entire faith communities are framed as potential security risks. The implication is rarely stated outright, but it is clearly felt that some beliefs are more acceptable than others.

Islam is the most obvious example. Study after study shows that most of the media coverage related to Muslim – 80% to be precise, is negative, conveying and fueling Islamophobia that portrays Muslims as a demographic or cultural threat.

The legitimisation of biases against certain religious communities involves the normalisation and mainstreaming of negative stereotypes, fear-mongering, and exclusionary rhetoric against them. Political, media, and social actors play a central role in this process, constructing entire faith communities as the “Other” or as threats to Western, secular, or national values.

When you see a woman wearing a hijab in public, what is the first story your mind reaches for? An award-winning novelist? Faith? Ordinary life? Or is it oppression, danger, radicalism, “an inconvenience”?

Most people do not choose these associations consciously. They inherit them. What we call “common sense” is often nothing more than stereotypes and fear rhetoric that have been repeated long enough to feel natural.

How fear rewrites reality

We often justify religious intolerance by pointing to extremism. When we treat extremist groups as authentic representatives of a religion, we strengthen their narrative. We allow them to claim the very authority they seek. More importantly, we misunderstand how radicalisation actually works. People do not become extremists in places of worship. They are radicalised in isolation, in moments of disconnection. The first step is almost always social severance from family, from community, from belonging. Yet, our response is often to push religious communities further to the margins, restricting visibility and expression, precisely the conditions that make isolation easier. Now, let us look at the other side of the coin, how Islamophobia – and religious phobia more broadly – shapes our everyday life. What does the constant consumption of fear do to the health of our democracy, to our capacity for free and critical thought?

Three things happen when fear and threat is being manipulated – We legitimise authoritarianism, prejudices, and we become more tolerant of biases. The more negative news we consume about Muslims, the more acceptable extraordinary measures begin to seem, such as military interventions abroad, surveillance at home, and policies that curtail the rights of entire communities. Over time, inhuman acts like these are recast as reasonable, even necessary.

Today’s media environment is doing a great job accelerating this process. Algorithm-driven platforms, selective coverage, and politically motivated narratives create echo chambers in which fear is amplified and constantly reinforced. Misinformation does not always take the form of outright falsehoods; it often works through repetition, omission, and distortion. When certain stories are elevated and others silenced, when complexity is replaced with threat-based framing, public perception is quietly engineered. These dynamics are fertile ground for far-right extremism, which thrives on simplified enemies and permanent states of crisis. One need only to look at current developments in the United States, where harsh Immigration and Customs Enforcement (ICE) actions are justified through manufactured fear and xenophobia.

In this sense, fear of any religious minority is not merely a spontaneous reaction to acts of violence committed by a few. It is a tool of public manipulation, eroding the very foundations of a free society, which is rational and well-informed citizens. Religious minorities might be the first to feel it, but the toxic atmosphere of fear affects us all.

Where does this leave us in 2026 and beyond

As 2026 begins, the question is not whether democracy still exists in name, but whether it still exists in substance. We are, by any serious measure, entering a period of democratic peril. What can remedy an age defined by inequality and democratic erosion? We need power, but power without character is a cure worse than the disease. We cannot unpollute our politics if we clean only downstream. We must return to values. And on that front, the answer is simple: we need them, and they must be profoundly grounded in community and care for each other and the planet.

Those of us who believe in democracy, and who believe it is still possible, we hold the burden of proving it. Yet would you call it a burden to be in a community where we are seen as fully human, where we have a say in the decisions that affect us, and where respect does not depend on conformity? This is not a burden; it is the promise democracy was meant to keep.

RESET’s ongoing work on interfaith dialogue and religious peace in Cyprus

Intermuse is an EU-funded project aimed at tackling religious discrimination and intolerance by challenging negative stereotypes about religious communities. The project focuses on building trust and understanding through research, practical tools for interfaith dialogue, and capacity-building training for religious leaders and civil society actors. It also supports the creation of local interfaith coalitions and community-led action plans.

For more information about the project, you may contact the project’s representative in Cyprus, Antigoni Loizidou, at antigoni.loizidou@resetcy.com.

VIRTUOUS adopts a multifaceted approach to strengthen the protection of places of worship, while enhancing the preparedness and prevention against terrorist attacks. In achieving this scope, the project relies on the establishment of strong cooperation among multiple stakeholders, including representatives of religious communities, public authorities, Law Enforcement Agencies (LEAs), educational institutions and security technical providers.

For more information about the project, you may contact the project’s representative in Cyprus, Antrea Kosta, at antrea.kosta@resetcy.com.