Our citizens will lose their confidence or trust in the values

Boris Trajkovski, the late president of Macedonia, once declared with gravity: “Our citizens will lose their confidence or trust in the values and principles of the international community, especially if our personal identity is denied.” These words rise like a warning bell, echoing through time, for they speak not merely of politics, but of the very essence of what it means to belong, to be recognized, to be seen as a people. In them we hear the cry of nations, the plea of communities, and the longing of every soul: acknowledge my identity, or all other promises become hollow.

For what is the international community if not a covenant among peoples, a web woven with threads of trust, justice, and shared values? Yet this covenant is fragile, held together only by respect for the dignity of each people’s personal identity—their language, their culture, their right to name themselves. When that identity is denied, the web begins to unravel. A nation scorned, a people unrecognized, will no longer place their faith in lofty principles or declarations, for they have seen those principles break upon the rock of hypocrisy.

History gives us many testimonies of this truth. Consider the story of the Balkans themselves, where identities have long been contested, denied, and suppressed. For centuries, empires sought to erase or subsume smaller nations, demanding that they abandon their names and traditions in exchange for peace. Yet such peace was never lasting, for without recognition of identity, resentment festered, and trust in international promises withered. In Macedonia’s own struggle for recognition, Trajkovski saw clearly that the denial of identity does not only wound pride—it corrodes the very confidence that binds nations together.

We may also recall the story of the Polish people during the partitions of their land in the 18th century. Their nation was erased from the map by stronger powers, yet their identity endured in language, in song, in faith. They trusted not in the words of foreign rulers, for those rulers had denied their very existence. Only when their identity was restored did trust in greater unions become possible. Thus, history shows us: values and principles proclaimed in the absence of respect for identity are but empty shells.

Trajkovski’s words hold a universal teaching. Just as nations lose trust when denied their identity, so too do individuals. When a person’s heritage, culture, or personal truth is dismissed, no matter how many promises of fairness are spoken, trust withers. Only when identity is honored can relationships—between nations or individuals—stand upon solid ground. To deny identity is to deny existence; to affirm it is to breathe life into the covenant of community.

The lesson for us, therefore, is clear: to build trust, we must honor identity. Whether in global politics, in local communities, or in the intimacy of family, true peace cannot be forged by denying who others are. To respect a nation’s name, to protect a culture’s heritage, to affirm a person’s individuality—these are not optional acts of kindness, but the foundation of all lasting trust. Without them, the words “values” and “principles” become hollow.

So I say to you, O listener: in your dealings with others, whether many or few, guard the sacred truth of identity. Do not dismiss the language, the tradition, or the story that shapes another’s being. For when you honor identity, you give birth to trust, and when you give birth to trust, you make possible a world of shared values and true peace. Let the wisdom of Trajkovski be your guide: the covenant of community, whether between nations or between souls, will endure only if each is seen, named, and honored as they truly are. Only then can confidence in higher principles flourish, and only then can peace take root in the hearts of men.