Back in July, on a sunny afternoon in Santiago, Chile, Brazil’s President Ignacio Lula da Silva and I danced briefly to the current Tanzanian hit song Pawa by the popular musician Mbosso. 

It was an unexpected but deeply human ending to our rooftop conversation at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs rooftop, where dessert and coffee turned into an exchange about Tanzania. Lula quizzed me about Tanzania’s population, economic performance, social challenges and cultural diversity.

But music particularly caught his interest as he asked, “What music do you listen to in your country? Put it on for me on your phone, I want to hear it.” For a few minutes, we shared music, laughter and rhythm. Then, returning the favour, he played me his favorite Brazilian song, a samba-flavoured version of Ave Maria. The story behind his choice is one I’ll keep as a  presidential confidence, but the moment was, for me, unforgettable.

It captured the humanity behind political leadership. Lula, after all, is a symbol of resilience – a man who fought for workers’ rights, survived imprisonment, endured political exile, returned, and still found the grace to dance to an East African song on a Chilean rooftop.

That very human exchange followed the Democracia Siempre (Democracy Forever) convening that brought together the presidents of Chile, Colombia, Spain, and Uruguay, along with a diverse group of scholars and activists, to wrestle with the daunting question of how do we defend democracy at a time when it seems to be under siege almost everywhere?

The democracy puzzle

What we discussed during those few days was sobering. At a session hosted at the University of Chile, world-renowned economists Joseph Stiglitz and Ha-Joon Chang, along with political philosophers like Jeanette Hoffmann, Susan Neiman and Daniel Innerarity, tackled what is pulling democracies apart and what might hold them together.

READ MORE: Is Democracy Still Delivering? A Reflection on a Fading Promise

During the convening, one argument struck me immediately: inequality, often blamed by the economics Nobel Laureate Joseph Stiglitz for democratic backsliding, does not always tell the whole story. Ha-Joon Chang pointed out that some of the countries where democracy weakened – Hungary for instance – are relatively equal in income terms. 

Instead, he argued, people care most about jobs. Not just for income, but because jobs confer dignity, identity, and community. Yet, secure and meaningful work is increasingly scarce, particularly in economies dominated by informality. In Bolivia, 85 per cent of workers operate outside formal systems. In Tanzania, over 93 per cent of workers operate outside formal systems according to ILO’s analysis of 2020 data.

Stiglitz took aim at something deeper: the economic philosophy underpinning policy. For decades, “free markets” have been marketed as the solution to everything. But, he argued, this neoliberal framework was never about free choice – it was about power. In fact, it often undermines democracy, privileging market actors over citizens, and in extreme cases, as with Chile under Pinochet, was used to enforce repressive politics.

Political participation

Another debate focused on political parties, the traditional engines of public participation in government. Michelle Bachelet, Chile’s former president and UN Human Rights Commissioner, argued that despite their flaws, parties remain essential: they curate societal conversations, build consensus, and provide a channel for citizens to influence collective decisions.

But German political scientist Jeanette Hoffmann countered with a sobering demographic reality – most party members, newspaper readers, and TV watchers are over 65 years old. 

READ MORE: Aidan Eyakuze’s Reflection on Leadership and Democracy: ‘Never Underestimate the Lust for Power’ 

Young people are hardly engaged, and as a result feel alienated from these traditional political and broadcast media institutions. When political parties fail to reach young people in their digital-native spaces, young citizens become unrepresented, and democracy becomes brittle.

Language and truth

A final, passionate exchange focused on language and truth. Moral philosopher Susan Neiman urged us to pay attention to language. We have been conditioned, first by advertising and now social media, to soak up manipulative messaging, whether commercial, cultural, or political. Disinformation is not new, she argued – it has simply become faster and harder to detect.

But how do we tackle “truth” in this environment? Ha-Joon Chang worried that insisting on a single, immutable truth often becomes a tool of tyranny. History is full of brutal dictators who claimed to know “the truth” and silenced all who disagreed. 

Neiman, however, insisted that facts still matter: without some shared sense of reality, democracy collapses into chaos. “Laws without shared moral values are not worth very much,” she noted.

Their debate left me thinking of Pontius Pilate’s question to Jesus, “What is truth?” History does not record Jesus’ answer, nor whether Pilate was satisfied with it.

What is democracy?

My reflections with presidents and philosophers kept returning me to a simple but difficult question: what is democracy? Is it the truth, a single monolithic unshakeably infallible ideal? Is it a truth, one of many competing versions? Or is it something more dynamic – a process where subjective desires and objective realities continually interact?

READ MORE: It is About Time We Reimagine and Redefine Democracy 

I choose the last one. It says I have something I can personally do to shape dignity-affirming principles and use them to improve the objective reality. It means democracy is not just something that happens every five years at the ballot box or in distant capitals. It is something lived in workplaces, community groups, digital spaces, even rooftop dance floors.

Tanzania, like many countries, faces strong democratic headwinds. Our politics is often seen as the domain of professional politicians or entertainers, our civic space is constricted, and our young people largely disengaged from formal participation.

Yet, we have agency. We can choose to see democracy as a living, breathing technology – one that must evolve to meet the challenges of a complex world. Democracy’s truth may be messy, but it is our mess to manage and our opportunity to shape. 

That means experimenting with new ways of connecting citizens and leaders, finding fresh approaches to include young people, protecting the integrity of facts, and, above all, holding fast to the idea that democracy is ultimately about human dignity.

Aidan Eyakuze is the Chief Executive Officer of the Open Government Partnership. He’s available at aidan.eyakuze@opengovpartnership.org or on X as @aeyakuze. The opinions expressed here are the writer’s own and do not necessarily reflect those of The Chanzo. If you are interested in publishing in this space, please contact our editors at editor@thechanzo.com.