Speech by Prime Minister Rob Jetten at International Four Freedoms Awards ceremony
Prime Minister Rob Jetten of the Netherlands held this speech in Middelburg at the presentation of the International Four Freedoms Award to President Zelensky.
President Zelenskyy, Volodymyr,
Your Majesty,
Your Royal Highness,
Ladies and gentlemen,
Every year, at the Four Freedoms Awards ceremony, we hear extraordinary stories of courage, resilience and heroism.
And today is no exception.
To my mind, these stories show that President Roosevelt was right to prize the Four Freedoms above all else.
Too often, we don’t notice that those freedoms are under threat until it’s too late.
And nowhere is that threat clearer than in a war.
The fight for freedom is at the heart of the award that I’m privileged to present today to President Volodymyr Zelenskyy.
Since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion, over 4 years ago, you, Volodymyr, have been the symbol of that fight for freedom in Ukraine.
Of the need to defend that freedom with everything you have.
And the key message you have emphasised again and again, is that protecting freedom is a duty shared by everyone.
Everyone can play their part.
And so we see you in the international arena, actively working to exert influence where you can.
But we also see you visiting the frontlines, and the sites of bombed buildings.
And above all, we see you out among the people of Ukraine.
So it speaks volumes that you only agreed to accept this award if you could do so on behalf of all the Ukrainian people.
On behalf of all the ordinary men, women and children who were thrust overnight into a new reality they did not choose, but now have to face every day.
On behalf of the children who now go to school in an air-raid shelter.
On behalf of the women who keep their families afloat and their country running by working in factories.
On behalf of the men who’ve had to swap a suit-and-tie for
combat fatigues, and are fighting to defend their territory.
Metre by metre.
They’re doing so because they know and feel that every square centimetre is a piece not just of Ukraine’s soil, but of its dignity too.
Its identity.
Its words, songs and symbols, and all those other invisible elements that make a people what they are and give a country its future.
A future that only they can decide.
That is what they are defending.
And for anyone, like me, who has only ever known peace, it’s very hard to imagine how you do that, and what it must feel like.
We’re so used to books and films about war heroes, that we tend to think about people in real-life war zones in that way.
But when I visited Kyiv last month, I saw that heroes are not born heroes.
They are ordinary people.
They don’t have superpowers, or even exceptional talents.
Or rather, their talent is to remain human in an inhuman situation.
I think that’s what Eleanor Roosevelt meant when she said that only someone’s character is the real criterion of worth.
That’s certainly true of the women I met while visiting a drone factory.
Until the war started, they lived their lives as so many women do.
Pursuing careers.
Caring for their families.
But when their world changed, they chose to change with it.
Now they’re working as drone mechanics, a job they’d probably never heard of until a few years ago, let alone imagined they would be doing.
But they made the change.
For their children at home.
For their future.
That same determination is shown every day by Ukraine’s emergency workers.
Despite shortages of everything, they continue to race to wherever they are needed.
And they risk their own lives in the process.
Because Russian troops are counting on them to show up.
After an initial attack they will often launch a second strike on the same target, hoping to hit as many first responders as possible.
When I first heard about this perverse reality, I didn’t know what to say.
I didn’t know what to think, except to wonder how on earth you carry on when you live in such a reality.
And yet, that’s exactly what almost 40 million Ukrainians are doing
every day.
Ordinary people, getting groceries for their neighbours.
Buying flowers for their wives.
Visiting their relatives at the weekend.
Ordinary people who show that, even in hearts full of fear, there is still room for love and compassion.
And that is worth fighting for.
To all those people, and to their president, I want to say this:
Yes, it’s true that often – too often – you are forced to rely on each other.
But you are not alone.
There is a place for you in the hearts of so many people.
In the Netherlands, in the United States, and all over the world.
For Ukrainians who have turned their lives upside down to defend their country.
Who rush to help the victims of each new airstrike.
Who talk with government leaders, and negotiate, and show us what we can achieve when we stand up for the freedoms that President Roosevelt spoke about.
Four freedoms, which I feel can be summed up in the freedom to be who you are.
Here.
And in a free and autonomous Ukraine.
President Zelenskyy, Volodymyr: this award is for your country.
For you as president.
And for the Ukrainian people.
For all of you.
May I now ask Elizabeth Roosevelt Johnston to come forward.
And Volodymyr, may I invite you to come up and accept the award.