10^th Council of Europe Conference of Ministers responsible for youth

Youth event : Strengthening a youth perspective in the work of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe

8 October 2025, La Valletta, Malta

Speech by Theodoros Rousopoulos

President of the Parliamentary Assembly of the Council of Europe

____________________________________________________________

Dear friends,

As a historian, and as a Greek, I often like to begin my reflections on democracy with stories from its birthplace — ancient Athens.

Because it was there that the questions you are facing today were first asked: How can young people shape politics? How do we deal with our own weaknesses? And how can we stay true to our values when the world around us doubts them?

There are concrete and very interesting answers to these questions, given by two of the youngest — and finest — politicians of ancient Athens: Demosthenes and Aristides.

Demosthenes was barely twenty when he first spoke in the Agora. But he had a problem: he stammered. People laughed at him. They mocked his voice. So he trained himself — speaking with pebbles in his mouth, shouting against the sea winds, shouting, refusing to be silent. And in time, he turned his silence into a voice. That voice later defended Athens from tyranny.

This is the first lesson of democracy: when you enter public life, your first opponent is not the others — it is yourself. To lead others, you must first master your own fears and limitations.

The second story is about Aristides — the Just. He was a hero of the Battle of Marathon, where the Athenians defended Greece and Europe from the Persian invasion. He was so fair that even his enemies admired him.

But the Athenians had a clever democratic mechanism — a safeguard against tyranny. When a politician became too powerful, they could vote to exile him for ten years, even if he had done nothing wrong, just to prevent him from becoming a tyrant.

So one day they voted on Aristides. He sat quietly at the edge of the Agora, waiting for the people’s verdict. A citizen who did not recognise him approached and said: “Sir, I cannot write. Could you carve a name on this shard for me?”

At that time, votes were written on broken pieces of pottery called ostraka.

Aristides asked: “Whose name shall I write?”
The man replied: “Aristides.”
Surprised, Aristides asked: “Why? Has he wronged you?”
And the man answered: “No, but I am tired of hearing him called the Just.”
Aristides smiled, wrote his own name, handed it back, and walked away.

I tell you this story so that those of you who one day enter deeper in politics know what to expect. It does not mean you should stop being just — it means that you must be ready to fight for justice, whatever the cost.

Because in politics, misunderstanding, suspicion and hostility are not inventions of our days or of social media; they have existed since the birth of democracy itself.

The third story is not about a man, but about a word.

The ancient Greeks used the term idiotes to describe someone who refused to take part in the Agora — the public life of the city. It didn’t mean “foolish.” It meant someone who cared only for himself, who had no sense of the common good. From this comes our modern word idiot.

So when I urge you to participate, I am not asking you to make politics your profession — but your mission.

And let me say something honestly. Too often, politicians flatter young people in public and criticise them in private — saying they are uncertain, demanding, spoiled by comfort. I do not believe that general rules are anyway right.

But I do believe that every generation must carve its own horizon — not by rejecting history, but by learning from it.

Take advantage of the experience of those older than you — not because they are always right, but because they have already made the mistakes you can avoid.

Listen even to those you disagree with.

Be better — not by tearing others down, but by becoming greater than them through your own example. The Council of Europe shares that same belief — that democracy must be learned, lived, and renewed with each generation. And the Parliamentary Assembly, which I have the honour to lead, has made this renewal part of its daily work.

In Strasbourg, we have youth delegates sitting side by side with national parliamentarians.

We have created the post of Youth Rapporteurs in every Assembly committee, to ensure that the perspectives and concerns of young Europeans are woven into every debate — from human rights and equality to technology, migration, and climate.

Last year, the Assembly adopted a Resolution on Strengthening the Youth Perspective in its Work, turning good intentions into concrete mechanisms. Through this, we moved from symbolic gestures to real participation — because young people should not simply be the subjects of policy but the shapers of it.

We are building on the Council of Europe’s proud legacy: the European Youth Centres in Strasbourg and Budapest, the European Youth Foundation, and the unique co-management system where youth organisations share power with governments to shape the agenda of the Organisation.

These tools are not historical relics — they are living structures that give Europe’s youth a voice that counts.

The Reykjavik Summit of Heads of State and Government reaffirmed that youth perspectives must be integrated into all areas of our work — from education and culture to environment, technology, and social inclusion.

Our Assembly has embraced this mandate, ensuring that young people contribute to our democratic debates, to election monitoring missions, and even to discussions about the ethical use of Artificial Intelligence — one of the defining issues of your generation.

I believe this is not just a policy priority; it is a moral one.

Because if democracy is to remain vibrant, it must listen to the impatience, the energy, and the creativity of its youth. And if our institutions fail to open their doors wide enough, it is your duty to push them open.

Demosthenes taught us self-knowledge. Aristides taught us integrity. Now it is your turn to teach us renewal.

So speak bravely.

Participate boldly.

And never, ever, be an idiotes.

Thank you.