Ladies and Gentlemen,

Excellencies,

Dear Mr. President, Dear Frank-Walter,

First of all: Congratulations!

It is a great honor and a sincere pleasure to speak here today and to celebrate your 70th birthday.

You and I, Frank-Walter, we are about the same age.

So, my most important message today is:

We have more work to do.

It is not over!

We both have some unfinished business – here in Germany.

In Berlin, and in Munich.

Coming to Berlin is always special.

But coming here today, to the heart of German democracy, at a time of profound global uncertainty, carries particular meaning. 

Democracy is also at the heart of our host’s mission.

The Körber-Stiftung’s commitment to promoting dialogue and understanding really is what democracy is all about. 

Dear Frank-Walter, we have known each other for decades, and I have always admired you.

You are an inspiration.

But this is not only a personal celebration of a remarkable statesman and friend.

It is also a crucial moment to reflect on the state of our democracies – and on our shared responsibility to protect them.

We are living through an era in which democracy can no longer be taken for granted. 

And there are few people who have said this more forcefully than you, Frank-Walter.

Throughout your political life – as Foreign Minister,

as President, and as a moral voice in Europe – one leitmotif stands out:

The conviction that democracy must be defended, explained, and lived.

Not passively.

But actively.

Not complacently.

But courageously.

For a long time, we assumed that democracy had become the default model, not because it was flawless, but because no alternative seemed capable of replacing it. 

That assumption bred complacency.

We mistook the absence of challengers for the absence of risk. 

But history did not end.

And democracy did not become self-sustaining. 

Democracy is a mission – ongoing, demanding, and never complete.

Democracy is more than institutions.

More than elections, parliaments, and courts.

It is a value-based order that places human dignity at the center of politics.

It is built on trust, restraint, compromise, and respect for truth.

And it depends, ultimately, on citizens who believe that freedom is worth defending.

Today, that belief is under pressure.

Democracy is challenged from the outside and from within.

From the outside, we face authoritarian powers that openly reject democratic values.

Russia’s brutal war against Ukraine is not only a war of aggression against a sovereign state.

It is a direct attack on the principles that underpin the European peace order.

An attempt to prove that might makes right – and that democracy is weak.

From within, democracies face erosion.

Populism.

Polarization.

Disinformation.

The deliberate undermining of trust in institutions, media, and democratic processes.

Democracy is being hollowed out not by tanks, but by narratives of fear, resentment, and exclusion.

Frank-Walter, last year, at the Munich Security Conference – a format that you know is pretty important to me – you warned that “democracy is no playpen for disruption”.

And you are right.

When democratic norms are treated as optional, democracy itself becomes fragile.

This brings me to the first reflection I would like to share today: a lesson from my own country and my time as Prime Minister.

In 2011, Norway experienced the horrific attacks in Oslo and on the island of Utøya.

Seventy-seven people were murdered – most of them young, politically engaged citizens.

Members of the young Labour Party.

It was an attack not only on innocent lives, but on democracy itself.

In those dark hours, Norway made a conscious choice.

We chose more democracy.

More openness.

More humanity. 

But we also learned that defending democracy requires vigilance.

That openness must never mean naivety.

And Frank-Walter, you were one of those who stood with us, in the darkest hours of our modern history.

With the Norwegian people.

And not least you stood with me, a colleague and friend.

Ten years later, you stood on Utøya and said that it is a place of mourning – but also a place of hope.

You recognized that the Norwegian response had become a symbol of democratic resilience. 

Your words mattered.

Because solidarity across borders is one of democracies’ greatest strengths.

A second experience that has contributed to my understanding of democracy as a mission was my decade as NATO Secretary General.

When I took office in 2014, the Euro-Atlantic community faced a strategic wake-up call.

Russia had illegally annexed Crimea.

International law had been violated.

The illusion of a cooperative European security order was cracking.

During those ten years, we witnessed growing strategic competition.

We witnessed cyberattacks, hybrid threats, and disinformation campaigns.

And in 2022, we witnessed Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine.

That war shattered any remaining doubts. 

Security and democracy are inseparable.

There is no lasting security without freedom.

And no freedom without security.

Ukraine is fighting not only for its own survival.

It is defending the principles of sovereignty, democracy, and self-determination. 

So: Our support for Ukraine is not charity.

It is an investment in our own security – and in the future of a democratic and peaceful Europe. 

This brings me to my third reflection, and the political moment we are in today.

Democracy is facing a stress test.

It is being tested simultaneously on multiple fronts. 

Externally, authoritarian regimes are coordinating more closely. 

Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea are challenging the rules-based international order.

They support each other politically, economically, and technologically.

They seek to undermine democratic cohesion.

Internally, democracies face a crisis of confidence. 

Some citizens feel unheard.

Some feel left behind.

And populists or extremists exploit these grievances to weaken democratic institutions from within. 

This is not a marginal issue.

It is a strategic challenge.

When courts are attacked, journalists intimidated, and political opponents delegitimized, democracy erodes quietly. 

And this erosion creates vulnerabilities that hostile actors can easily exploit.

Disinformation is cheap.

Polarization is effective.

And trust, once lost, is hard to rebuild.

As you, Frank-Walter, have stated with striking clarity:

“The self-assertion of democracy – that is the task of our time.”

I agree and would add that defending democracy must also be treated as a core security task.

Just as important as defense budgets or military readiness.

Democracies must invest in resilience.

In education.

In independent media.

In social cohesion.

And in the rule of law.

Democracy as a mission means accepting that this work is never finished.

That each generation must renew the promise.

And that freedom and democracy must be defended again and again.

But there is reason for confidence.

Democracies are not weak.

They are adaptable.

They correct themselves.

They allow for peaceful change.

And they attract people not by force, but by freedom. 

Our task is to ensure that democracies deliver.

That they protect.

That they inspire.

And that is exactly what you do, Frank-Walter.

Dear Frank-Walter, on your 70th birthday, we celebrate not only your life and achievements.

We celebrate the values you stand for.

Values that matter more today than ever.

That is why the title of this symposium could not be more fitting:

“Democracy as a Mission”.

And Frank-Walter, you have shown that it is a mission worth dedicating a lifetime to.

Thank you.