When, in April 2024, the municipality of Saint-Josse-ten-Noode near Brussels banned a meeting of the National Conservatism Conference (NatCon), it seemed that everything was unfolding according to a familiar European pattern: a politically controversial event, reflexive invocation of security concerns, fears of protests, and finally an official ban. And indeed, the planned event could not take place at first [the conference had to be moved to a different location three times, editor's note]. Everything was as usual and as we have seen many times before.
Last week, however, this all-too-familiar scenario took a surprising turn. A Brussels court ruledthat the ban on the conference of national conservatives in Brussels was illegal.
This is an important decision. It underscores one of the most important principles of a democratic state governed by the rule of law. Freedom of expression is not only guaranteed. It must be actively enabled. In reality, however, this is often overlooked.
The judges pointed out that freedom of expression and assembly are not acts of grace granted by the state when the weather is fine, which can be revoked when a storm approaches. According to the ruling, these are rights that state authorities must not only tolerate, but also protect and promote.
At first glance, this seems obvious. In practice, however, it is often unacceptable—for administrative authorities that avoid conflict, for politicians who confuse peace with order, and for the public, which increasingly accepts freedom only where it does not cause disruption.
Democracy thrives on disputes, not consensus.
The court's message that the state must actively support freedom of expression—regardless of whether the views expressed are perceived as controversial—touches on a sensitive issue in our current political situation.
Democracy thrives on debate, not consensus. It is not a space for opinions approved by the media, but a process of peaceful resolution of contradictions. When this debate is perceived as a danger, democracy begins to misunderstand itself. An open process then becomes a morally curated scene.
The municipality of Saint-Josse-ten-Noode argued precisely on this basis. The mere possibility of counter-demonstrations, disruptions, or escalations became the justification for a preventive ban. However, the court in Brussels clearly stated what is often concealed in political practice: those who argue in this way transfer the right of veto over fundamental rights to those who threaten the loudest or most aggressively. Or simply have the prevailing opinion on their side.
Freedom is then no longer restricted by law, but by the expectation of unrest. This is not prevention, but capitulation.
This decision touches on a key aspect of democratic self-understanding. The state is not the arbiter of a pleasant atmosphere, but in the best case scenario, it is the guarantor of fair play. Its role is not to prevent political conflicts, but to enable them, regulate them, and protect them if necessary. Where this role is avoided by preventive bans on events, efforts to ensure internal security turn into a form of indirect censorship.
Familiar patterns of censorship
This practice is nothing new. Historically, preventing unpopular political actors from expressing themselves is often the first step towards the gradual decline of democracy. For example, in the Weimar Republic, gatherings of not only extremist but also simply inconvenient parties were regularly banned or restricted, usually with reference to public order.
However, this was not a sign of strength, quite the contrary. The Weimar Republic ultimately failed not because the state did not crack down hard enough on the Nazis and Communists, but because of its inability to politically confront extremist positions. A state that responds to political challenges through the judiciary delegitimizes itself in the long run.
This pattern is also evident in other European democracies. Whether in post-war France, Spain during the transition period, or politically charged Italy in the 1970s, state authorities repeatedly believed that political problems could be solved through administrative intervention. This rarely worked. On the contrary, it often led to radicalization, martyrdom narratives, and an erosion of trust in the neutrality of state institutions.
The modern version of this bad habit is more subtle. It has abandoned open repression and instead uses the language of risk management. Prohibitions are imposed not because of content, but because of "circumstances." Not because of opinion, but because of possible reactions. The result, however, is the same: certain political positions are effectively pushed out of the public sphere without anyone having to openly admit to this step.
Protection from the state, not from opinions
A democratic constitutional state is necessary precisely where opinions are polarized. Fundamental rights are not a reward for political conformity, but an insurance policy against the arbitrariness of the majority.
John Stuart Mill put it soberly and clearly in the 19th century: the value of freedom of expression is not manifested in the protection of recognized truth, but in tolerance of error. Those who think they already know which positions are harmful have already closed the democratic process internally. A democratic constitution does not protect the state from its citizens, but citizens from the state.
The Brussels court reminded us of this obvious fact. It did not judge the political merits of the National Conservatism Conference, but the actions of the authorities. It focused on the process, not on morality—and therein lies its democratic significance. Democracy is not a question of correct content, but of correct rules.
At a time when political camps increasingly perceive the state as a tool against their opponents, this is an important counterpoint. The idea of marginalizing undesirable parties or movements through administrative measures may have a short-term calming effect. In the long run, however, it undermines the pluralism it purports to defend.
A democracy that tolerates only pleasant voices quietly becomes authoritarian—often without even realizing it.
To put it dramatically, the Brussels ruling defends republican seriousness against post-political complacency. It reminds us that freedom creates work: for the police, the administration, politicians, and every single citizen. Prohibition is the easy way. The democratic way is complex and laborious.
When Emir Kir, the mayor of Saint-Josse-ten-Noode, who was responsible for the ban, declared that "the extreme right is not welcome in Brussels," he revealed himself to be a democrat who is only satisfied under favorable circumstances and for whom democracy means consensus among people with good intentions—at most disturbed by a little mild criticism.
In a democracy worthy of the name, however, even political extremists have the right to express their views – quite apart from the fact that the National Conservatism Conference is anything but extremist in the political science sense.
By condemning Saint-Josse-ten-Noode, the Brussels court has strengthened democracy. It has defended freedom of expression against its situational relativization, saved the right of assembly from preventive devaluation, and confirmed pluralism as a constitutive element of an open society.
At a time when many democracies are reacting nervously to deviations, this is more than just a legal victory.
It is a reminder that freedom does not lie in avoiding conflict, but in enduring it—with trust in the law and respect for the diversity of political beliefs.
Theoriginaltextwas published on the website of the Austrian sister newspaperStatement.at.