Orientation Toward Disorientation

An exclusivist worldview gives rise to an ideology that opposes any non-stereotypical perception of reality, and communication based on such perception is filled with negativity toward various differences and innovations. Exclusivist, in this sense, means conservative, traditional, established—rejecting changes in language use, behaviour, or way of life.

The ideal example of an aggressive exclusivist ideology was Hitler’s Nazism, which excluded from the national community anyone who could not prove the purity of their “Aryan” identity or was deemed inferior in any other way—such as having a disability, a non-heteronormative sexual orientation, or beliefs deemed “wrong” by the Nazis.

A more contemporary example of ideological exclusivity is Moscow’s rashism. To be unlike them is both a crime and a disease. To hold different beliefs is considered a contagious perversion. Resistance to the “Russian order” must be punished severely. “Why, oh why are you so un-Russian?” asks the Russian in despair—and it sounds extremely, extremely exclusivist.

Is Inclusivity a Political Technology?

Supporters of exclusivism answer this question affirmatively. They are even convinced that inclusivity is a subversive ideology and an unscrupulous manipulation. Conservative traditionalists believe that the aim of inclusive propaganda is to ideologically disarm them, leading to the elevation of all sorts of minorities they have grown accustomed to despising—and through whom they have defined their own sense of superiority.

On one hand, this is a pitiful form of egotism seeking self-justification and a basic xenophobia of a disoriented being in unfamiliar conditions. On the other, it is a cultural legacy—centuries of stigmatizing those who differed from the dominant majority, scapegoating them for misfortunes or unexplained evil.

However, beyond cultural and psychological overlays, the essential distinction between the inclusive and exclusive paradigms of the pronoun “we” lies in this: the inclusive we means “me, you, and perhaps somebody else too,” while the exclusive we means “me, maybe somebody else, but definitely not you.”

Thus, inclusivity embraces and draws into a shared circle all forms and expressions of humanity that do not threaten the expressions of humanity in others—or life itself. From this, for example, arises the ecological agenda, animal rights advocacy, the so-called political “pirate” movement, and many similar human rights initiatives.

Those who support such ideas see inclusivity as the only approach capable of reducing societal conflict and protecting the dignity of historically marginalized social groups and life forms.

However, implementing this approach in social relations primarily meets resistance in the form of rejection of inclusive rhetoric, especially through unfamiliar linguistic innovations. It is perceived as a targeted attack on traditionalist vocabulary that reflects discriminatory or abusive narratives once entrenched toward certain groups.

People are disturbed primarily by the imposed language, not the meaning behind it, which they often refuse to see. After all, most reasonable people wouldn’t openly oppose respectful treatment of minorities and various personal differences. At least, such a trend existed from the second half of the 20th century until the early 2010s within the Eurocentric world.

Demands for politically correct communication that denounce historical discrimination based on ethnicity, gender, age, disability, or sexual orientation are perceived by exclusivist proponents as an attack on language, cultural heritage, and nature itself. The paradox is that the desperate struggle of human rights advocates against discrimination and violence appears to even moderately conservative audiences as discrimination, violence, and subversion of the world order.

Of course, it’s not only about rhetoric and unusual terminology. There is fear of the collapse of the patriarchal matrix, of educational and legal innovations, of tolerance toward immigration and multiculturalism—the gradual replacement of the traditionalist paradigm by liberal pluralism.

It has now become clear that this process occurred too rapidly in historical terms and was not adopted by everyone, even within the relatively limited territory of Eurocentric civilization. Some nation-states or even separate communities were better prepared to accept the values of an inclusive worldview, others less so, and some not at all. It is also undeniable that right-wing populists have exploited the frustration caused by the spectre of total emancipation.

Exclusivist Ideology on the March

For the political agenda of right-wing populists, "dancing on human rights" has become a propaganda goldmine. They portray human rights as a sinister conspiracy, searing pitch from hell about to descend on people with conservative worldviews.

Thirty years ago, right-wing populists were a fringe minority, but today they are a formidable force steamrolling political competitors.

“There are no such things as ‘human rights,’” declare far-right extremists. “There are the inalienable rights of lineage, corporations, and the nation—of something unified and necessarily homogeneous. There are traditional values bequeathed by Adam and Eve, and no modification of these ancient values is acceptable. Your leaders will protect you from outsiders with an iron hand and punish outcasts. Your patriarchs won’t let you stray into spiritual ruin. Your men will give you everything you truly need. No perversions, no misunderstandings—everything is as clear and simple as daylight.”

But is it really that clear and simple? And are these truly sincere beliefs?

It recalls how late-Soviet ideologues of the stagnation era denounced “human rights” from the “rotten capitalist West” using similar arguments—and that was supposedly communist rhetoric. Today, the fight against “human rights” is led by a developer-president alongside a KGB-president, and nothing prevents them from promoting this worn-out narrative.

To many, it sounds like a modern, optimistic, revolutionary program.

This circle of such people is now wider than the circle of inclusive liberalism’s supporters, which is why the world is trembling again, as it did during the rise of Bolshevism, Nazism, and similar heresies. At present, it appears that the influence of exclusivist ideology is becoming global.

How will this affect the social climate—including in Ukraine?

The most obvious outcome may be that inclusive rhetoric will be rolled back in the public sphere. Attention to barrier-free policy will fade into the background. Human rights issues will also be de-prioritized—at least, efforts will be made to strip them of their universal character by excluding aspects such as gender and sexual orientation. Much will certainly be done to promote “traditional Ukrainian” values.

Feminist and anti-colonial studies, which have greatly enriched Ukrainian social science, may also be side-lined in favour of a pseudo-patriotic discourse. And without doubt, the consequences of war and the country’s post-conflict state will contribute to the decline of liberal values in social development.

One can always hope that the reactionary wave will subside along with the reign of immoral populist dictators who are riding it. But it is impossible to imagine the extent to which humanitarian values might collapse during a global crisis. Yet, drawing on the historical experience of emerging from the darkness of World War II, we may predict that the next phase of humanization and progress will be more far-reaching, philosophically deeper, and politically more resilient.