Raised in Platanias, Chania, and now Professor of the History of Political Thought at Queen Mary University of London, George Varouxakis is the author of what may well be one of the most timely books of the year. Its title? The West: The History of an Idea (Princeton University Press, 2025), published last September. In this study, he seeks to trace both the origins and the many unexpected shifts in the way the West has been understood as a socio-political idea over the past two centuries. According to him, a defining characteristic of the concept is not only its openness but also its ambiguity and plurality of meanings—something that in no way diminishes its significance.

On the occasion of the special issue The World Ahead – 2026, we spoke with him about the future of the concept—and, above all, the reality—of the West in light of America’s retreat from European affairs, the continuing war in Ukraine, and the alternative political systems promoted by China and Russia. Is the concept of the West exportable? Does it make sense to speak of “Western values”? Is the notion of “The West versus the Rest” productive? The answers follow.

Interview by Antonis D. Papagiannidis and Konstantinos Tsalakos

(Published in Economic Review - December 2025)

The West and Greece

Let us begin with a question that may sound somewhat counterintuitive: does the “West,” as we use the term, contain an element of exclusion, of closedness? Does it serve a defensive function?

Let me tell you something that may surprise you: this entire discussion, at its origin, has to do with Greece! From the very first use of the term “West” and the concept of a “Western Federation,” conceived as a way of protecting a civilization and a group of countries, there was a tendency toward open-endedness, toward openness and receptiveness to expansion. The most interesting—indeed paradoxical—aspect of this story is that the first country toward which this conceptual expansion was directed was Greece. And this happened at a time when Greece did not even exist yet as a state—it was only preparing to emerge, in the shadow of the French Revolution.

I find French thinkers such as the well-known Benjamin Constant and others like Abbé Dominique de Pradt (influenced by Constant, though himself a highly successful author), writing book after book during the decade of the Greek Revolution with “Greece” in the title. This begins as early as 1822.

What was the logic behind that?

His argument was that “if the Greek Revolution had not happened, we should have invented it.” For him, the problem was not the Ottoman Empire, “which would collapse anyway,” but who would succeed it. The great danger for Western Europe was the Russian Empire and its ambitions to take Constantinople and move into the Mediterranean.

So they argued that “here we have a people who are European, Western,” in their view. Such a people should not be subjected to Asians and Muslims. This people could become a crucial ally and a member of the Western Federation that De Pradt had begun to advocate. Exactly two hundred years ago, many people spoke about Greece in terms that many now use when discussing Ukraine.

Whereas on the map of that time, we were something like the Near East...

In 1822, when people were writing things like “We need a Western Federation, and Greece should be its bulwark,” Greece did not yet exist. Of course, the Greece they envisioned would have extended as far as the Danube—the Greece depicted in Rigas Feraios’s Charter.

But there is also a second answer to your question. Others, especially French thinkers, began speaking of the “West” in order to distinguish Western Europe from Russia, placing Greece within the West. Yet the man who built an entire political program around the idea, placing the title République Occidentale (Western Republic) on his books, was Auguste Comte.

Comte was not particularly fond of the ancient Greeks—he was a Romanophile, Francophile, Latinophile, and so on. For him, Europe was consistently Charlemagne’s Europe, plus Britain and the colonies populated by people of European descent. Yet from the outset he made two exceptions: the West would include two countries lying to its east—Greece, because of the importance of ancient Greece to Rome and to Western civilization more broadly, and Poland, which, although Slavic and geographically eastern, had been Catholic for a millennium and was therefore part of the same Western world.

The West as an Open Concept, Yet Opposed to Russia

What is the conclusion of this historical trajectory?

The conclusion is that from the very beginning, once the term “West” starts being used, it inherently contains an element of openness, acceptance of new members, and non-fixed boundaries—open-endedness. It is what the European Union would later call “enlargement.”

The West is therefore not a closed civilization, nor a group of states defined by national, genetic, or religious characteristics. We have already seen that from the outset it sought to include an Orthodox country. This is particularly notable given that Comte himself wanted Christianity abolished and replaced by a Religion of Humanity, which he believed would be more capable of morally uniting people in the scientific, positivist age.

Yet from what you are describing, the West still seems to possess an identity-based character. And identities are usually formed relationally. From what you say, Russia appears to be the entity from which a certain distance is maintained...

You know, I always expect the question: “Didn’t Edward Said explain how Europeans constructed an ‘Orient’ as the Other?” That is why I usually answer it in advance. Yes, but those same Europeans were perfectly willing to define themselves against the East. However, until the end of the seventeenth century, they called themselves Christendom. From the late seventeenth century onward, they began speaking of Europe. Why, then, did they need a new term—one they did not use until the nineteenth century?

Why indeed?

Because after the Napoleonic Wars, Russia became enormously powerful. Think of the Congress of Vienna in 1815. A century earlier, Peter the Great had brought Russia into the European geopolitical system. Culturally, the Russian elite had also succeeded in becoming European: they invested resources, built St. Petersburg, imported architects and musicians. Catherine the Great hosted lavish dinners with Denis Diderot and corresponded with Voltaire.

But suddenly, at the Congress of Vienna, Russia was no longer merely a member of Europe. It became Europe’s center. It dominated the continent—and with the help of two Greeks, no less.

Kapodistrias and who else?

Alexander Sturdza, whose mother was a Phanariot Greek and whose father a Moldavian nobleman. Through his personal charm, spiritual interests, and connections, Tsar Alexander I came to dominate Vienna. Shortly afterward he established the Holy Alliance.

At that point, many Europeans—particularly in France, which had been defeated by Russia in the Napoleonic Wars—began asking themselves: “What is happening here? Europe is no longer Europe.”

After all, if Europe includes Russia, then Russia is Europe. This is when people increasingly begin speaking of “une Alliance Européenne, ou plutôt Occidentale”—a European Alliance, or rather a Western one. Out of fear of Russia. That is how the concept of the West is born. Over the following two centuries, of course, this changed. After September 11 and the attacks on the Twin Towers, the enemy became Islam—or more precisely, Islamist extremism.

At different times there have been different enemies. But the evolution of the concept of the West, contrary to what specialists long believed—that it was invented in the 1890s to serve British imperialism—shows something different. In my book The West: The History of an Idea, I demonstrate that it emerged much earlier, out of fear of Russia.

And the person who turned it into a comprehensive theory was Auguste Comte—a far from attractive character, it must be said—who formulated the idea of the West as part of an explicitly anti-colonial project. He wanted all colonies abolished and regarded violence and conquest as atavistic and outdated in the age of positivism.

One of the surprises in The West: The History of an Idea is that Britain was among the last countries in Europe to see itself as part of the West. America came even later: it was the last of today’s central Western countries to describe itself as “the West.”

How do you explain that?

One reason is that Americans used the term “the West” to refer to their own West—the moving frontier that gradually advanced until it reached California.

The second reason is that the United States was the first anti-colonial state. As a post-colonial country, it had revolted against the British Empire. It built an entire ideology around that fact and idealized it. The last thing that would have appealed to Americans in the first decades of independence was identification with Europe’s colonial, semi-feudal, aristocratic monarchies. Americans saw themselves as a new proposition, a fresh beginning.

But wasn’t colonialism a foundational fact in the formation of the West—at least of Europe?

America, as the first post-colonial state, presented itself as the “real” Europe, in contrast to the old Europe, which it regarded as unfree. America was the land of liberty, of authentic European ideals brought to fulfillment.

What Fits Within the West?

Is there, then, a minimal conceptual core to what we call the West? Is it freedom? Democracy? Because if such a core exists, then there must also be limits as to what belongs and what does not belong within the West.

What I argue is that the West has meant many different things. Almost everything in my book comes as a surprise to readers because it challenges conventional assumptions about how the idea and identity of the West emerged.

One thing, however, is certain: the West is not a static concept. One of my central arguments is that it is changing right now, as we speak. Following the invasion of Ukraine, the context has been transformed.

In my conclusions I stress something important: the fact that the concept of the West constantly changes does not mean it means nothing. There is simply no single correct or absolute definition. Like any concept with a long history, it can only be understood through the study of its evolution.

The term remains attractive to many people. As a result, various political forces seek to appropriate it.

To achieve what?

To advance their own arguments. Unfortunately, what is happening today is that various white supremacists and racists in America—and elsewhere—claim they are defending Western civilization.

For the last two years we have also heard Netanyahu repeatedly declare, since October 7, 2023, that he is fighting for Western civilization.

That does not mean Western civilization belongs to them. The rest of us would make a grave mistake—and score a massive own goal—if we allowed them to monopolize this heritage, this rich tradition.

Western civilization carries a host of associations, many of them positive. A Catholic may think of the traditions of his faith. Others may think of Notre-Dame and of what was lost for France when it burned. The emotional response to that fire, even among people who were neither religious nor French, was immense.

The West and American Hegemony

A symbol, then?

A semi-conscious connection to a civilization, to a tradition that one may no longer practice religiously, yet still cares about because of the art, culture, and institutions it produced. All of this, I would suggest, should not be surrendered to Marine Le Pen or to Trump’s speechwriters. It does not belong to them.

In my view, after all the recent developments, the West—if one must defend something—means a group of countries with differences among them, yet sharing a number of common traditions, political systems, constitutional and legal principles, the rule of law, and so on.

What is crucial here is that there is no single state, no “civilizational state,” no monolithic entity like China or Russia with one government and one official line. The West consists of many different states. Its pluralism is both its strength and, of course, its weakness.

Something did change, however, in the idea of the West after the end of the Second World War. A hegemon emerged. One country became so powerful that the others effectively turned into its satellites. Yet what we have witnessed over the past months is that when an American president changes the rules of the game, Europeans suddenly unite because they realize: “We will lose if we allow this to continue.”

As a result, a second pole seems to be emerging. France, Britain, and Germany are making an effort to organize themselves—Germany invoking the Zeitenwende in order to strengthen itself militarily and defensively—and now even Meloni is joining the process. This is extremely important. If we fail to grasp that significance…

Then what?

I often ask my students and colleagues a simple question: “Suppose we abolish the West because it has many flaws. What exactly is the alternative?”

Chinese hegemony? Russian hegemony? A world dominated by powerful businessmen controlling digital platforms? Mr. Musk?

What we have not yet lost in the West is the possibility of having different governments elected by voters, removed by voters, and replaced with governments pursuing different policies.

So if one country goes mad—as America seems to be doing at the moment—the others can still organize themselves and preserve something valuable.

And in the meantime?

Then we wait for the next elections.

You see, this has always been intrinsic to the West. From the very beginning, it was an idea—not a country, but a group of similar countries sharing common principles and common interests. Naturally they disagree, quarrel, and occasionally even go to war with one another. Yet in the long run they recognize that they share something fundamental.

But if we go back a little—to before the beginning of Trump’s second presidency—didn’t Europe function somewhat like America’s favorite colony? Certainly after the First World War, and even more after the Second. A favored colony, perhaps, but also a comfortable one, as Trump rather bluntly suggested. Could the West even be imagined without the United States? And especially without American leadership? Then came Trump 2.0. Only weeks ago, NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte referred to him as “Daddy,” praising him for forcing Europeans to accelerate military spending. Meanwhile, Josep Borrell has openly questioned whether Europe can still regard the United States as an ally.

Those observations actually appear in the conclusions of my book—and were written well before the invasion of Ukraine, in articles I published as early as 2017.

History shows that American dominance within the West is merely one phase in a much longer story. That said, I accept that the current situation is serious. The West cannot survive if America becomes an adversary.

However, as long as the United States merely disengages while continuing to sell weapons and provide support, a Western community can still exist.

We, in Western Europe, need the concept of the West much more than Americans do.

Small and medium-sized countries need it. France and Britain, which until only a few decades ago viewed themselves as Great Powers, know perfectly well that they no longer are.

They therefore need the West very badly.

And what happened in Germany with the Zeitenwende under Olaf Scholz is highly significant. Because of both the legacy of Nazism and Germany’s proximity to Russia—which, let us not forget, supported German reunification—Germany had long tried to function as a bridge to Russia.

My conclusion is this: it will not be easy, and let us hope we do not end up in a war in the near future, because Western Europe is not ready to fight one on its own.

Economically, however, Western Europe is incomparably stronger than Russia. Militarily and strategically, Western Europe is not coordinated—but that can change. The West was born in Western Europe, and Western Europe needs the West far more than America does.

So is that how the future will be written?

Oh, I believe America will return. Times change. Technologies change. I would hold on to a remark by Walter Lippmann, perhaps the most influential journalist of the twentieth century, written during the Second World War. Speaking about the postwar world, he argued that one could not predict what would happen after the war and therefore ought to prepare the best possible alliances:

“It is not what people say, nor what they think they feel, but what they actually do when action becomes necessary that determines the community of nations. In that sense, there exists a great community on this earth from which no member can be excluded and from which none can withdraw. That community is geographically constituted by the great basin of the Atlantic.”

This observation is not unrelated to the fact that in both world wars of the twentieth century Americans would have preferred to remain neutral, yet when neutrality became impossible, they came and fought alongside Western Europe.

And it is in America’s own interest to draw closer to Europe. America today fears China. So who are its natural allies?

Is the Concept of the West Exportable?

But is Europe really America’s natural ally? Speaking of NATO, Lord Ismay, its first Secretary General, famously said that its purpose was “to keep the Americans in, the Russians out, and the Germans down.” What we seem to be experiencing today is the complete reversal of that formula. We need to bring the Americans back in, reconsider our relationship with Russia—perhaps even by restoring Russia to the G7 and making it the G8 again—and certainly no longer keep the Germans “down.”

That is a very good observation regarding NATO. But allow me to point out something: NATO is not “the West.” NATO is simply the latest version of a military alliance.

And let us not forget that it includes Turkey, whose president does not describe himself as Western. On the contrary, he builds political capital by presenting himself as resisting the West.

I will repeat it: the West is something broader, something larger, something that I hope will continue to exist even if NATO one day does not. It has a history that long predates the creation of NATO.

Does the West contain an element of normative coercion? And, more broadly, is the West still attractive?

Excellent question. No, it is not universally attractive. But tell me: what is the alternative? The West was the civilization that brought together and combined a set of principles and values, creating something remarkable. Christianity itself, for example, was not originally Western.

Let me ask it differently: is the idea of the West exportable? Can it be imposed? If this fluid and adaptable concept we call the West claims to be the bearer of rationality and higher ideals, does that not automatically place everyone else on a lower level?

Let me clarify. The West is not an infinitely exportable or infinitely expandable concept. That is why, in the debate between Fukuyama and Huntington, I side with Huntington.

Huntington may have been obsessed with religion—he believed that religion determines culture and shapes destiny. He therefore argued that serious violence between Ukrainians and Russians was unimaginable. Then came 2022.

Likewise, he once argued that Greece ought to be expelled from NATO because it was more closely aligned with Russia than with the West. Imagine saying that today! Let us recall Karamanlis’s famous statement: “Greece belongs to the West.” In my book, I analyze exactly what Karamanlis meant in the mid-1970s and why it was important.

Despite all his flaws, I find myself closer to Huntington than to Fukuyama on one crucial point: it is dangerous—even ridiculous—to believe that everyone wants to “become Western” simply because they wear blue jeans and open McDonald’s restaurants. That was an extremely superficial view.

Huntington, by contrast, argued that we should accept that we are one civilization among others. We should defend our interests, understand other civilizations, and learn how to coexist with them.

“The West versus the Rest” Is Counterproductive

So the idea of “The West versus the Rest” is ultimately counterproductive?

In the final chapter of my book, I argue that the phrase “Western values” does more harm than good. Western Europe cannot say: “Because these principles and values prevailed among us, they belong to us." That approach is counterproductive. Indeed, it is a gift to Putin, Modi, and Xi Jinping.

The moment you say “Western values,” they can immediately tell their own populations: “These are Western values. These people are neo-colonialists. We do not want their values.” It would be far more useful to say that liberalism, democracy, liberal democracy, social democracy—or whichever tradition one personally prefers—are principles that can be shared.

What is needed is a more inclusive and universal language. If you label these principles “Western values,” it is as though you are saying: “We are the owners; you are the losers of history.” Naturally, that will persuade no one.

Countries that stand close to the West, countries that experience an internal duality—like Greece, Turkey, or perhaps even Russia one day, who knows?—can become part of the West. I do not imagine that the West will one day encompass the entire planet. But because it is flexible, because it continually redefines itself and admits new members, it may well expand in the future.

Yet if one argues that Russia remains “outside” because of its authoritarian political system, does that not risk pushing it into an even tighter embrace with China? Would it not be more reasonable, once the guns fall silent, to engage with the Russia of St. Petersburg, the Hermitage, Chekhov, Dostoevsky, Solzhenitsyn, Mayakovsky, Akhmatova, and Tchaikovsky—the Russia that Western Europe has increasingly tried to exclude from cultural life because it is supposedly “contaminating”? Otherwise, might Asia not become so powerful that it overwhelms whatever remains of the West?

You are absolutely right. The cancellation of Russian culture—of Dostoevsky, Tchaikovsky, and others—is deeply dangerous and ultimately absurd. Our problem is with a specific leader, a specific government, and the actions it has taken in recent years. It is not with Russia itself, nor with Russian culture as a whole.

Remember how this conversation began: originally, the concern was the Tsar and the Russian Empire. Let us hope Russia changes its political system. In the years immediately following the Second World War, before the Cold War began, people spoke of Russia not merely as a member of Western civilization but even as one of its saviors.

Because it had fought alongside the Allies...

It had played a decisive role in defeating Hitler. Then the Cold War changed everything. History changes, and naturally we hope it will change again. It would be a tragedy to push Russia into Asia. But the solution is not the approach Trump seems to favor today—the notion that “we strong men will sort things out among ourselves.”

The solution is to recognize the Russia you just described: the Russia of St. Petersburg, the European Russia. If you acknowledge Russians, if you treat them with respect and recognition, you can achieve a great deal. I have spoken with numerous Western ambassadors who served in Russia, and many have admitted: “We gave Putin arguments. We treated Russians badly during the 1990s.”

The arrogance of the Americans is now exacting a price—and the Ukrainians are paying part of that price as well. But yes, I fully agree with you. We must not sever the bridges with Russia.