dGlobal democracy is under siege. Ever since reaching the high mark for the number of electoral democracies in 2005, self-government has been on a steady slide. According to Freedom House's authoritative "Freedom in the World" report, eight in 10 people in the world now live in countries rated either "not free" or only "partly free."

A similarly unfree world confronted President Ronald Reagan in the 1980s. In the previous decade, Communist regimes had taken power by force on multiple continents, including in South Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, South Yemen, Angola, Ethiopia and Nicaragua. The Soviet bloc appeared resilient. Meanwhile, right-wing military governments controlled South Korea, the Philippines, Taiwan, Chile, Argentina, Brazil, El Salvador and Guatemala.

Outside Western Europe and North America, the world's main model of government was authoritarianism, with either a right-wing or left-wing flavor.

And yet, in just over a decade, the number of democracies in the world would almost double. Both Communist regimes and military dictatorships on every continent would yield to representative governments, mainly peacefully.

It was no accident. Structural forces and citizen activism primarily drove what political scientist Samuel Huntington would later dub the "Third Wave" of democratization. But Reagan's policies also played a key role.

The story provides a playbook for helping reverse the antidemocratic trend today.

When Reagan entered office in January 1981, he intended to focus his human rights advocacy on the victims of Communist persecution, distancing himself from the pressure President Jimmy Carter had applied on American-backed right-wing authoritarians to ease their abuses. The 1979 Iranian and Nicaraguan revolutions had scarred Reagan and his team. Seeing anti-Communist autocrats who had generally supported American interests in return for U.S. support — Shah Muhammad Riza Pahlavi and Anastasio Somoza — toppled by anti-American revolutionary movements seemed to caution against destabilizing such regimes in favor of the unknown.

During his first year in office, Reagan hosted military dictators such as South Korea's Chun Doo-Hwan and Argentina's Roberto Viola at the White House. He praised their anti-communism and refused to press them on human rights, even in private. He nominated Ernest Lefever to be the assistant secretary of state for human rights — even though Lefever had called for the bureau's abolition the previous year.

Then, over a nine-month period from October 1981 to June 1982, new ideas, changed personnel and world events prompted Reagan to shift toward much more consistent and enthusiastic support for human rights and democracy with friend and foe alike.

First, in October, several senior State Department officials wrote memos urging the administration to elevate freedom as a policy priority. Paul Wolfowitz and Lawrence Eagleburger called human rights "the best opportunity to convey what is ultimately at issue in our contest with the Soviet bloc." They cautioned, however, that "a human rights policy cannot be credible if it has impact only on pro-Soviet countries." They urged the United States to be "a positive force for freedom and decency" with both allies and adversaries.

Three weeks later, Elliott Abrams, Richard Kennedy and Bill Clark made a similar argument. They contended that "the defense and promotion of liberty in the world" was the "very purpose" of American foreign policy. But they warned: "If we act as if offenses against freedom don't matter in countries friendly to us, no one will take seriously our words about Communist violations."

Reagan found these arguments compelling enough to select Abrams to lead the human rights bureau — a notable upgrade over Lefever, whose nomination had been rejected by the Senate Foreign Relations Committee on a bipartisan 13-4 vote.

Then, in December 1981, Poland's Communist regime, urged on by the Kremlin, imposed martial law in an effort to crush the burgeoning Solidarity labor movement. Solidarity's courage showed Reagan the need — and opportunity — for the United States to provide broad-based economic and diplomatic support for democracy movements.

More positively, in March 1982, amid its civil war, El Salvador held free and fair elections, which demonstrated overwhelming popular support for democracy and a rejection of the Communist FMLN movement. Reagan wrote in his diary of "the most inspiring stories about the people standing in line 10 to 12 hours in order to vote."

A month later, the Argentine junta invaded the disputed Falklands/Malvinas islands and started a war with the United Kingdom. This reckless invasion showed Reagan that military dictatorships could be unstable and folly-prone partners.

These events and ideas culminated in the president's Westminster address to the British Parliament on June 8, 1982. The speech is best remembered for Reagan's consignment of Marxism-Leninism to the "ash heap of history." But its real focus was laying out a positive vision of expanding democracy.

"Regimes planted by bayonets do not take root," Reagan declared. And despite signs of hope, democracy wouldn't just grow by itself. Instead, "if the rest of this century is to witness the gradual growth of freedom and democratic ideals, we must take actions to assist the campaign for democracy."

A few weeks later, Reagan reinforced this policy shift by replacing Secretary of State Al Haig, who was famously indifferent to human rights, with George Shultz, who would become a consistent champion of democracy.

Reagan and Shultz saw the Cold War primarily as a battle of ideas between Soviet communism and the democratic capitalism of the Free World. They realized that exposing the oppression and penury of the Soviet system was necessary but not sufficient; they also had to show that free societies offered a better way of life.

Reagan put resources behind his rhetoric. His Westminster speech birthed the National Endowment for Democracy (NED) and several affiliate organizations. These groups funded dissidents and democracy activists in nations such as South Korea, Taiwan and Chile. This support seeded the soil so that when popular discontent with dictatorships swelled, civil organizations were sufficiently funded and organized to lead democratic transitions.

The State Department, U.S. Agency for International Development and, in some cases, the CIA provided additional types of support to activists, parties and movements working for democracy.

The Reagan administration also boosted broadcasters such as Voice of America and Radio Free Europe/Radio Liberty as they offered lifelines into closed societies, breaking the information monopolies that dictatorships depend on.

Reagan, Shultz and other senior administration officials reinforced these resources with personal diplomacy. Sometimes in private, sometimes in public, they made clear that the United States stood with dissidents and activists working for freedom. At key moments, the Reagan administration informed dictators such as Chun, Ferdinand Marcos, Augusto Pinochet and Jean Claude "Baby Doc" Duvalier that they needed to step aside.

By the time Reagan left office, democratic transitions had taken place in South Korea, the Philippines, Taiwan, El Salvador, Chile, Brazil, Argentina and several other once-authoritarian nations. Within a year, the Iron Curtain too would crumble, and the countries of Eastern Europe would also embrace democracy.

Today, democracy may be in decline, but there still is an upswell of activism in countries across the globe. Citizens in Iran and China are engaged in massive protests against their oppressive governments, while many Russians voice growing outrage at Vladimir Putin's brutal Ukraine invasion and accompanying repression.

This offers an opportunity for the U.S. to follow Reagan's lead by providing encouragement and political, economic, informational and moral support to democracy activists around the world. It's impossible to know if a fourth wave of democratization is building, but such efforts made a difference in the past, and they just might do so again.

William Inboden is executive director of the Clements Center for National Security and associate professor at the LBJ School of Public Affairs, both at the University of Texas at Austin. He is the author of "The Peacemaker: Ronald Reagan, the Cold War, and the World on the Brink," from which this commentary is adapted.