February is characterised by cold temperatures, bright days, and a profound silence in the natural landscapes of central Europe. It has the fewest days of any month in the year. During this time, living things that could not withstand the winter often perish. Still, as the days grow longer, the beauty of spring approaches slowly.

Last year, the academic community marked the thirtieth anniversary of the Rwandan genocide. The Faculty of Law at the University of the Western Cape, in collaboration with the African Centre for Transnational Criminal Justice in South Africa, organised a conference and invited me to attend.

I was acquainted with the case and only seeking something new – perhaps an interdisciplinary connection. As I opened the materials on my computer, a wave of familiarity washed over me. The statements, data, documents, reports, and a haunting image I had never quite forgotten came rushing back to my mind.

A small girl lies on a dusty road, and cars have been driving over her. The body is only a few meters from the stairs, but no one has pulled her off the road. Whenever I recollect this particular detail from the witnesses' accounts, I am at a loss for words. Even now. This is where hatred leads. Simple and graphic.

The effort to exclude extremist forces from the government in Europe has come to an end. Populist and nationalist parties are gaining strength across the continent. Donald Trump is back in America, unbound. What was once labelled as “far-right” has now entered mainstream politics, making it increasingly difficult to identify someone as a fascist.

The Bratislava IV Municipal Court in Slovakia has recently issued an urgent measure prohibiting a newspaper from labelling a criminally prosecuted individual, who is currently hiding in the UK, as “an extremist,” “neo-Nazi,” or “anti-Semite.” It is not just a ridiculous ruling given the facts; it is a sign of a change, a statement.

The courts reflect the society they serve. A ruling may not hold significant weight, as it will likely be overturned eventually. Still, it is of substantial importance as a declaration. The real issue we face is not our inability to condemn fascists, but rather our failure to unite in condemning fascism itself.

Legal disputes over labels will not bring about any change. Unlike Václav Havel's hope that truth and love would triumph over lies and hatred, the fact is that the most blatant lies can endure. Although a simple lie does not always immediately prevail over a complex truth, violence can be highly effective without any truth.

European stories about good and evil are mostly built on the Christian tradition and the forms of thought and feeling cultivated by it, including the leftist progressive dream. It is comical how so many Pharisees do not want to recognise their brothers and sisters and prefer to join with fascists with whom they can culturally, ethically, and economically resonate.

Yet, fascism is a completely different story. The situation resembles watching fairy tales on Christmas, each one is a little different, but truth and love win everywhere. Evil, as we know it, is ultimately defeated. But fascism is different. It is akin to switching to the Discovery Channel. Animals are torn to pieces, the small are eaten by the large, the weak and the sick do not survive.

Fascism pretends to be a proper response to the tough reality of life, but it is wrong in essential matters. Man can never become an animal; he cannot simply fit into nature and live according to its laws. His world will never be a world of instincts, but a land of great stories that will take him where no animal would ever go.

Man, through his narrations, always transcends the boundaries of nature. He can kill and heal, love and hate, but no story, not even a fascist one, can turn him into an animal. That is why fascism has never led to a return to nature, to any “natural order,” but only to murder and destruction, of which an animal would never be capable.

Genocide is not a result of ethnic differences or a “natural” competition for resources. These factors become destructive when groups of people feel ashamed. Although the victims of genocide may have nothing to do with it, perpetrators seek to humiliate them to alleviate their own feelings of inadequacy, regardless of any truth.

In Cambodia, Rwanda, or even in Germany, it was better-off people, educated professionals, who were among the first to be exterminated there, because this is how the perpetrators get rid of their feelings of inferiority the fastest and symbolically triumph over some supposed or real humiliation from the past.

From an Adlerian perspective, individuals strive for superiority to overcome feelings of inferiority. In addition to the negative childhood experiences, such as neglect, feelings of inadequacy can be intensified by social hierarchies and events. For instance, the Hutu people's admiration for Tutsi superiority has been reinforced by colonial heritage.

If we are to defeat fascism, we must understand why so many people desire revenge and superiority? Why do individuals feel helpless, humiliated, and angry? Does everyone feel safe where they live, or is safety an expensive privilege now? Do you have to buy an upscale home just to allow your daughter to walk alone in the evening?

Well, poor people have daughters too. Security had clearly become an issue for many Europeans and Americans. It is too late to say that our system had been “guilty of appalling failings” when the problem was already exploited by those who may not have a solution, but at least, do acknowledge what an ordinary man feels.

Society is divided both in Europe and in the US. Feelings of hatred are rampant. Many believe, not without justification, that fascism is entirely destructive. It only empowers fools and criminals, who aim to dismantle the rights-based order, ultimately seeking to subordinate everyone to the grandiose vision of some sick individual.

Yet, further humiliation of those, who have been left behind and ignored for so long, only worsens the issue. Fascism can only be defeated by showing people respect – by taking them and their problems seriously and addressing them effectively. It's not about demonstrating moral and intellectual superiority; it's about solving problems.

If we are unable or unwilling to address the issues, we should at least learn to embrace our own misery with compassion, show humility, and respect to others. We do have dusty roads too. It would be a mistake to crown all the previous oversights with the unreasonable conviction that it cannot get any worse here. It can.

I am not suggesting giving up the fight for equality and rights in Europe and America (and elsewhere). Yet, our conduct so far has been flawed and clearly unsuccessful. It makes no sense to devalue, ignore, or condemn those whom we need to get on board. The “basket of deplorables” is actually full of people whom we should respect and listen to.

We can refer to the new wave of far-right populism as “an emancipation of stupidity” or “a revolution of the losers.” However, displaying moral and intellectual superiority over those who already feel marginalised or left behind may only deepen their desire for power and a grand triumph over the others, regardless of the costs, or any truth.

Striving for power, prestige, and superiority differs from the desire to contribute to society. To promote the latter, we must ensure that everyone feels valued, accepted as human beings, and confident in their rightful place within the community. Those who do not feel equal often seek to establish their worth by striving for superiority.

Some of the old ideas have not survived the winter; they are weary and fading away. The bright days of February have revealed the truth. Exposing bad ideas without embarrassing those who hold them is extremely difficult. Yet, it is, perhaps, nearly impossible to sell equality to those who have been humiliated in its name.