History Doesn’t End: Why Our Fight for Equality Still Matters

In 1989, Francis Fukuyama argued that history, in the philosophical sense, had reached its endpoint with the triumph of liberal democracy and free-market capitalism as the final form of human government – it was effectively, “the end of history”.

At the time, Fukuyama believed that the main ideological struggles that defined history – monarchy versus democracy, communism facing off against capitalism – had been resolved. If we were to go back then, key events such as the fall of the Berlin Wall (1989), the collapse of the Soviet Union (1991), the end of apartheid in South Africa (1994), and the Maastricht Treaty (1991), all of which occurred within a five-year period, provide ample evidence supporting this perspective.

The spread of liberal democracy and the rise of global institutions that took place over the following decade added even more evidence that democracy was here to stay. But economic and global events since, including the rise of authoritarianism, the increasing prevalence of geopolitical conflicts, the erosion of global institutions, and the roll-back of human rights all challenge this idea.

We have also seen how anti-LGBTI+ rhetoric has exponentially increased across the world. This has often been fuelled by political leaders, religious fundamentalists, and nationalist movements. This backlash is not occurring in isolation; it is a symptom of broader democratic backsliding, where leaders seek to undermine inclusive institutions to consolidate power.

By framing LGBTI+ rights as a threat to “traditional values,” cultural anxieties are exploited in order to reinforce authoritarian narratives that justify restrictions on freedoms of speech, assembly, and legal protections. Such rhetoric, when left unchecked, does not merely threaten LGBTI+ individuals: it corrodes the broader democratic fabric by normalising discrimination, weakening human rights institutions, and encouraging polarisation. We are facing the long term ramifications of this today.

This divisive rhetoric is used because it’s useful. Weaponising anti-LGBTI+ sentiment redirects public frustration or economic dissatisfaction toward historically vulnerable and marginalised individuals. Creating an “us versus them” narrative helps build a sense of “otherness”; it allows for the creation of an image or, more often than not, a grotesque and false caricature of an “enemy” that can then be rallied against. Rather than addressing the actual causes of societal discontent, scapegoating us enables authoritarian leaders to foster distrust in democratic values, thereby strengthening their grip on power.

You might ask: given that we, as a community have been historically marginalised, why bother? Why continue to fight? And that is a perfectly understandable question. Especially when we are seeing a decline in global support for the work we do and a shrinking of civil society spaces in many parts of the world.

We can return to 1989 for an answer.

We need to recognise that Fukuyama’s vision of a truly liberal democracy underpinned by free market capitalism has never truly materialised. While the world is better and more equal than it was, we cannot ignore the ongoing exclusions that are used to sustain illusions of a rigged meritocracy. It is through this illusion that we claim to have functioning democratic societies while denying full political participation and economic mobility to marginalised communities. This illusion can only persist if we settle for a democracy that is only an oligarchy in disguise.

Fukuyama never said that violence and conflicts would magically cease. He argued that no fundamentally new political or economic system would surpass liberal democracy as the most legitimate form of governance.

But democracy is not self-sustaining.

Democracy can only survive when we do not turn away from its failings. Democratic institutions are not omnipotent entities that exist beyond our realities. On the contrary, it is because their stability relies on ongoing reinforcement through political will, civic engagement, cultural values, and social trust that their success and failures have such an impact on our lives. Democracy only survives when we hold it accountable.

If we become apathetic and allow ourselves to lose hope, our institutions degrade from neglect. It is precisely because we believe in the possibility of a free, safe, and equal future for all that we, as an organisation, work with partners across the world and in multinational spaces such as the Commonwealth.

We are aware, though, that it is hard to keep the hope alive.

This is why we must act. As we stand at this crossroads, we call on the UK Government to do its part to push back against democratic backsliding. Now is the time to spotlight the importance of international aid and openly state renewed commitments to human rights. The UK Government must lead by example, including by appointing a dedicated Special Envoy on LGBTI+ rights to drive meaningful change – a role which is currently vacant.

Our collective future depends on the actions we take today.

Alex Farrow

CEO, Kaleidoscope Trust