DEAR READER,

In Ankara, NATO leaders gather amid tension and anticipation, as US intelligence hints at a possible Russian provocation against Poland. Scenarios include missile or drone strikes on infrastructure or minor cross-border incidents, aimed at creating discord within the alliance and influencing the West's stance on Ukraine. More on that in our top stories.

In our expert opinion, we feature an article from our latest issue by Callum Fraser, who argues that while Europe has developed a policy response to Russia, it lacks public consensus to support it. The resurgence of Russian threats directed towards Poland presents an increasingly perilous situation due to the existing disconnect.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

Europe’s Russia policy has strong potential but lacks the domestic political conditions to effectively implement it. Sanctions architecture, defence commitments, and support for Ukrainian sovereignty all reflect a correct strategic reading of Russian behaviour and intent. However, the societal foundation that makes those commitments politically durable when they become economically costly is fragile. The temptation to reset seen across European politics is not evidence of bad policy, but evidence that the domestic infrastructure to sustain it was never properly constructed.

Lacking foundations

The 2025 Alaska summit was a pivotal moment for Europe. It was also a clear example of US-Russia bilateral engagement being normalized over European heads and a signal of US hesitancy to commit to Europe’s security. However, the meeting did not create the case for a softer stance on Russia. Instead, it legitimized a pre-existing trend within Europe’s domestic politics. This highlights Europe’s strategic complacency. People living in London, Paris or Rome have never had to feel the threat from Russia directly – it was absorbed by the US. This is no longer the case, but Europe has not managed to mitigate this issue.

The 2025 Alaska summit occurred within a broader political context that has been forming across Europe. Far-right populist parties have surged in support. Germany’s Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) reached 28 per cent in polls in April 2026. The party’s leaders have called for renewed engagement with Moscow.

With Russian offensive operations stalling in Ukraine, the conditions that make a ceasefire appear achievable are strengthening. Yet the structural conditions to make it durable remain absent. Russia’s war aims in Ukraine have not shifted throughout negotiations and neither have the conditions that make collective security necessary. The only shift has been European political willingness to implement current policy towards Russia.

If support for resetting relations with Russia is growing, it is not because the threat is misunderstood. Europeans have not concluded that Russia is benign, but that the cost of confronting it is theirs to bear personally through economic pressure while the threat itself remains distant and abstract. This is not a failure of policy design. It is a failure of the domestic political architecture needed to support it. Europe built a correct policy response to Russia. However, it did not build the civic and institutional foundations that would allow populations to sustain that response when it became uncomfortable. The perception gap is where that failure is most visible.

Writing from London, this is not a lesson for Eastern Europe. Citizens of Finland, the Baltic states, or Poland do not need to be told that Russian hybrid warfare is real; they have weathered it for decades. This argument runs the other way. Britain’s case is a clear example of this threat perception gap. A country that is one of Ukraine’s strongest bilateral supporters lacks the strong domestic foundation to guarantee its defence commitments.

Perception gap

As many as 77 per cent of Europeans perceive Russia’s invasion of Ukraine as a threat to Europe and 76 per cent agree with continued support for Ukraine. These are encouraging figures, but they measure awareness, not commitment. When the question over “guns versus butter” arises, whether it is through introducing trade-offs to an increased defence budget, or reductions to education, healthcare and welfare, public opinion shifts. This highlights increased concern over the economic impact. These findings suggest a disparity between abstract threat awareness and threat salience. Threat awareness, the understanding of a threat, is cognitive, whereas threat salience, feeling the consequences personally, is experiential. Information cannot close this gap without direct exposure or structured civic participation.

Polling on future security also reflects this issue. Forty-five to seventy-two per cent of Europeans believe that Russia would invade again within ten years of a peace deal. Despite awareness of the fragility of peace and the long-term threat that Russia poses to European security, we will not pay to prevent it. This is the perception gap in its starkest form.

An unwillingness to accept the cost of current defence commitments indicates a communication failure to translate an abstract Russian threat into a concrete threat. Public messaging concerning Russia’s hybrid warfare in Europe is being promoted, but it is not filtering through into a public threat salience to give governments the mandate to act without having to water down commitments to survive the next election.

Europe faces a strategic paradox. European security requires spending commitments that generate real fiscal pressure. This pressure has coincided with rising support for parties whose instinct is to soften the local stance on Russia.

Russian behaviour and war aims have not changed. The strategic logic behind sanctions, defence investment, and Ukrainian support remains intact and remains the correct template for future policy. What these figures reveal is that correct policy and sustainable policy are not the same. Policy is only durable with political will behind it, and political will is only as durable as the domestic conditions that sustain it. Europe has spent years building the right policy architecture and neglected building the public foundation it depends on.

Continue reading in the latest issue of New Eastern Europe for free

— Callum Fraser, Research Analyst at RUSI

DEAR READER,

During the night, Russia targeted the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra. The monastery, which is a UNESCO World Heritage site and one of the oldest in Eastern Europe, was established in 1051. President Zelenskyy described this as an assault on the essence of Ukraine, while Moscow refuted the allegations. This incident coincides with the commencement of the G7 summit in France, suggesting a deliberate timing.

In this week's Expert Opinion, Clara Sandgren examines the European Union's 21st sanctions package, which focuses on Russia's so-called “shadow fleet”. The opinion analyses the intricacies of legal loopholes, maritime regulations, and the gradual impact of sustained pressure, so definitely check it out!

Additionally, for those interested, our latest episode of Talk Eastern Europe explores Montenegro's journey towards EU accession, click the banner below to watch the video.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

A MESSAGE FROM OUR PARTNER

In the past week, the European Commission proposed a 21st sanctions package targeting Russia’s so-called “shadow fleet”, a network of ageing, often uninsured vessels used to transport oil despite Western sanctions. If adopted, the package would blacklist an additional 30 vessels, bringing the total number of sanctioned ships to more than 600, and extend restrictions from the ships themselves to also include ports, refineries, traders and other infrastructure facilitating Russian energy exports.

This new round builds on the EU’s previous sanctions package, which expanded anti-circumvention measures against third countries and blacklisted logistics global hubs used to facilitate Russian oil exports. If approved by member states, the 21st package will continue this approach and in addition to penalising primary shipping vessels will also ban secondary service providers such as bunkering (refueling) and logistical support operators.

The shadow fleet emerged in 2022 following an EU/G7+ price cap on Russian crude. To maintain its economic lifeline, Russia developed a parallel fleet of vessels operating under opaque ownership structures, often changing flag status and lacking adequate insurance and oversight. It is difficult to overstate the importance of these exports: oil and gas are fundamental tenets of the Russian economy, accounting for roughly 30-40% of federal budget revenues and close to half of export earnings. Additionally, skyrocketing oil prices due to the Middle East war have handed the Kremlin a massive financial windfall that it is desperate to protect.

While the shadow fleet operates in multiple waters, the Baltic Sea is perhaps the most critical site. Almost half (48%) of Russian oil exports are shipped from Russian terminals through the Gulf of Finland to reach global markets. At the same time, the Baltic Sea is dense with critical underwater infrastructure and surrounded almost entirely by NATO member states. The shadow fleet has consequently triggered major anxieties in coastal nation capitals, as it has also been linked to Russian grey zone activities; reports of irregular vessel behaviour, interference of navigation systems and several incidents involving damaged undersea cables suggest that the shadow fleet is being used to probe Western responses and test vulnerabilities. Many of these vessels – due to their age and poor maintenance - are also ticking environmental bombs. A major oil spill in the small, enclosed Baltic Sea could have disastrous ecological consequences.

However, responding to shadow fleet activity is not straightforward. The sea is divided into distinct areas of jurisdiction, and international maritime law grants extensive protections to vessels, including the right of innocent passage through territorial waters. As a result, coastal states generally need clear evidence of unlawful activity before being able to intervene against foreign-flagged vessels - making it difficult to act against Russian ships operating under plausible deniability. Varying threat perceptions across the nations also limit coordinated action. While countries such as Sweden and France have taken a more assertive position in regard to boarding and detaining suspect vessels, others, including Estonia, have stated that they will not act against the shadow fleet out of fear of escalation.

Despite these divisions, Baltic Sea states have recently started taking more decisive measures. In December 2025, 14 European states issued a joint declaration outlining conditions under which ships may be subject to inspection. This includes a vessel’s failure to stick to a consistent and verifiable flag, allowing authorities to treat them as “stateless” and therefore subject them to intervention. Consequently, boardings have increased during the spring. Predictably, Russia has strongly criticised these measures, bringing up accusations of “piracy”, warned of possible retaliation against Western commercial shipping and increased its presence in the region.

While the Commission’s 21st sanctions package will not stop Russian oil exports overnight, the gradual tightening of loopholes indicates a strategy of cumulative pressure to gradually squeeze Moscow’s economic engine. This strategy is reinforced by the efforts of individual nations; while they are often reduced to intercepting one vessel at a time, these interceptions are deliberately designed to make shadow fleet operations as time-consuming and costly for Russia as possible. At the same time, the principle of free passage is politically and legally difficult to challenge, and something that is fundamentally desirable to uphold, even despite security concerns. Coastal states therefore face a dilemma in seeking to tighten enforcement against the shadow fleet while also upholding international maritime law and preserving the sea as a free space for commerce.

— Clara Sandgren, Political Scientist focusing on Central & Eastern Europe

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

German Marshall Fund (GMF) — NEXUS: Next Generation Security Exchange 2026 — A leadership programme for emerging security experts from Europe, Japan, and the United States focused on strengthening transatlantic and Indo-Pacific cooperation. The inaugural cohort will bring together ten Master’s and PhD students to explore nuclear deterrence, non-proliferation, alliance politics, and international nuclear history while building expertise in US–Japan–Europe security relations. The programme combines interactive online seminars with an immersive training programme in Washington, DC, in November 2026 and offers participants the opportunity to publish a policy-oriented article. Travel, accommodation, and meals are fully funded. Open to Master’s and PhD students from Europe, Japan, and the United States. Application deadline: 30 June 2026.

DEAR READER,

This weekend's election in Armenia delivered a decisive outcome. Nikol Pashinyan's pro-European Civil Contract party achieved a parliamentary majority, albeit a slim one, overcoming a pro-Russian opposition. The nation is clearly pivoting towards the West, despite the challenges ahead.

In other developments, Tabib Huseynov's Expert Opinion this week highlights the crumbling of Russia's battlefield strategy in Ukraine due to its own attrition, suggesting that a cornered Putin is more likely to escalate than retreat. Don't miss this analysis and other top stories from Albania to Latvia.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

Since the Avdiivka offensive in late 2023, Russia’s battlefield strategy in Ukraine has relied on sustaining relentless pressure across the frontline, regardless of the human cost. The Kremlin wagered that steady and incremental territorial gains would compound over time into a broader strategic shift in a protracted war of attrition.

By 2026, however, that logic of attrition appears to be turning against Moscow. If current trends hold, this year is poised to become the deadliest since the start of Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. For six consecutive months, Russian battlefield casualties have reportedly averaged above 1,000 per day, exceeding recruitment rates. The number of Russian casualties incurred per square kilometer captured has risen sharply, from an estimated 96 troops in 2025 to an average of 210 in the first four months of 2026, according to Ukrainian officials. Recent estimates suggest this ratio may have reached as high as 1,688 in May due Ukrainian tactical gains. What makes these figures staggering is that most of these losses are irreversible. Due to the saturation of the battlefield with FPV drones it is estimated that Russia now sustains nearly two fatalities for every wounded serviceman – a ratio unseen in modern warfare. With Ukraine still controlling nearly 19% (around 5,000 sq km) of Donetsk Oblast, current trends imply that Russia would need to sacrifice over a million servicemen to seize just one region it claims as its own.

Russia’s setbacks in the frontline were partly due to the loss of Starlink access in February. The disruption sharply reduced the effectiveness of its drone operations across the frontline and degraded its battlefield communications, leaving Russian troops with “radios, cables and pigeons,” as one soldier complained. Ukraine moved quickly to exploit this weakness by intensifying drone strikes against Russian logistics in the rear. Mykhailo Fedorov, Ukraine’s defense minister, has described this new strategy as a “logistics lockdown,” aimed at denying Russia the capacity to sustain offensive operations. Ukraine has also expanded long-range strikes deep inside Russia, disabling nearly a quarter of its refining capacity in May and forcing Moscow to ban gasoline and jet fuel exports and introduce fuel rationing in the occupied territories.

Ukraine is thus gaining the upper hand in the drone-led warfare both on the frontline and in the intermediate-range strike campaign extending up to 200 km behind Russian lines. It is also approaching parity in long-range strikes against targets inside Russia. These trends, if sustained, will make it increasingly difficult for Moscow to sustain its war of attrition for much longer.

The most consequential implication of Russia’s deteriorating battlefield position is that the Kremlin is likely to seek to regain leverage through escalation.

In one of his early interviews, shortly after being elected, Vladimir Putin reflected on a formative lesson from his childhood. He once spotted a rat and pursued it until driving it into a corner. The trapped animal suddenly lashed around and chased him away. “There, on that stair landing, I got a quick and lasting lesson in the meaning of the word cornered,” Putin recalled. Popularized after the invasion of Ukraine, the anecdote has since been widely interpreted as revealing a core logic in Putin’s approach to power politics: as long as he believes he still has cards to play, he is more likely to raise the stakes than to back down.

Now, as Russia’s conventional attrition campaign in Ukraine is running its course, Putin is more likely to resort to more destabilizing methods to restore leverage. Unable to break Ukraine’s army, Moscow has increasingly targeted the systems that sustain Ukrainian society, including electricity, water, sewage, heating, transportation, and other critical infrastructure. This pattern was evident in repeated strikes on energy infrastructure last winter, which plunged parts of the capital into blackout and forced hundreds of thousands of residents to evacuate temporarily. The massive missile and drone attacks on Kyiv in May, which killed dozens of civilians and wounded more than a hundred, are indicative of what Russia may be aiming to achieve on a continuous basis. The most immediate risk for Ukraine in 2026 is therefore not a Russian breakthrough on the front lines but an intensified campaign to terrorize civilians and cripple the life-support systems of major population centers.

Ukraine is far from being helpless in the face of such attacks, and it will respond – not by mirroring Russia’s attacks on civilians but by further expanding long-range strikes against critical industrial infrastructure in Russian cities, including targets in major cities like Moscow and St. Petersburg. As Ukrainian publicist Mykhailo Dubynianskyi recently observed, the war will increasingly take on the character of a “war of the cities”, echoing the gruesome experience of the Iran-Iraq War.

Russia is mistaken if it believes that terrorizing Ukrainian cities will intimidate Ukraine into restraint and submission. On the contrary, the record of the war suggests that attacks on Ukrainian cities have strengthened rather than weakened Ukrainian resolve while exposing Russia’s own urban centers and economic assets to growing vulnerability. In this regard, it is worth recalling that the moral of Putin’s “cornered rat” parable is not that the trapped animal lashed out, but that Putin retreated when confronted by a determined adversary.

— Tabib Huseynov, policy analyst and researcher based in Baku

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Hungarian Institute of International Affairs (HIIA) — Future Leaders Program 2026 — A three-month fellowship for young professionals and recent graduates interested in international affairs, geopolitics, diplomacy, and public policy. Participants join HIIA’s research community in Budapest, working alongside policy experts on independent and collaborative research projects while contributing to strategic analyses and attending professional seminars. Research areas include the Western Balkans, Eastern Europe, transatlantic relations, the Middle East, Asia-Pacific, security policy, the European Union, energy, multipolarity, connectivity, and cultural diplomacy. Fellows receive mentorship, leadership and public speaking training, media skills development, and access to high-level policy discussions and professional networks. Open to applicants under 30 with backgrounds in international relations, political science, diplomacy, history, philosophy, or related fields. International applicants are encouraged to apply, with travel support, accommodation assistance, and visa support available. Programme runs from 1 September to 30 November 2026 in Budapest. Application deadline: 30 June 2026.

DEAR READER,

This week, we have Kraków in focus. On Sunday, two events unfolded: Wisła Kraków fans celebrated their team's return to the top football league, while the city voted to remove its liberal mayor, Aleksander Miszalski. You will find out more in our top stories section.

Meanwhile, Kraków also happens to be where Péter Magyar began his first international trip as Hungary's new prime minister last week. The choice was anything but accidental. To find out why, check out our Expert Opinion, where Benjámin Lux unpacks what Magyar's two days in Poland signal for the future of Central European cooperation.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

“Polak-Węgier dwa bratanki” — stated Péter Magyar during the press conference held after meeting with Donald Tusk in Warsaw. The recently elected prime minister of Hungary chose Poland as his first international destination, spending a total of two days in Kraków, Warsaw and Gdańsk. Having visited three cities with historical locations, and meeting politicians and other important leaders, the trip fulfilled two roles.

On the one hand, the official visit included several symbolic elements. Apart from selecting Poland as his primary international destination — an emblematic decision done by Viktor Orbán multiple times before — Magyar firstly visited Kraków, meeting with cardinal Grzegorz Ryś, to show his gratitude to John Paul II, whose famous quote “nie lękajcie się” (“don’t be afraid”) was frequently cited by the new prime minister during his campaign. The city itself is also symbolical, as dozens of monuments preserve the shared historical past of the two countries, making it a special place for Hungarians. Magyar also met Lech Wałęsa in Gdańsk, a leading figure of Solidarność and the first president of the Third Polish Republic, a key contributor to the demise of communism in the Eastern Bloc. Additionally, the delegation mostly traveled by charter flights or passenger trains, which supports the idea that the new government is generally less extravagant than the previous one.

On the other hand, the visit was highly pragmatic and professional with the aim to restart not only bilateral but also regional cooperation. Besides meeting with Tusk, Magyar was also received by Karol Nawrocki. Although there was no press conference following the discussion with the president, the meeting is notable as Nawrocki, affiliated with PiS, a political ally of Viktor Orbán and his Fidesz party, visited the former prime minister in Budapest three weeks prior to the decisive election.

The weight of the trip was further enhanced by the fact that the Hungarian delegation included six ministers — the ministers of foreign affairs, infrastructure, culture, economy and agriculture — who each conducted private talks with their Polish counterparts. The peak of the meetings was, however, the one between the two prime ministers. In the press conference that followed, Tusk highlighted that Tisza’s win is something that gives not only hope but an example for the whole world in overcoming anti-democratic and illiberal political forces through democratic means. He added that Polish-Hungarian relations were always generally good, and although ties were damaged in the last couple of years, it was the case only for political and not personal relations. Furthermore, the Polish prime minister offered to contribute to Hungary’s energy diversification while noting that he will respect Hungary’s decision regarding import choices.

Magyar — alongside expressing his gratitude for the hospitality of the Polish people and mentioning the historical friendship of the two nations — pointed out that a strong Europe begins with a strong Central Europe. As a starter, he stated his will to host a prime minister-level V4 meeting in Budapest this summer. Additionally, he expressed his desire to enlarge the cooperation to include countries as Austria, Croatia, Slovenia, or even Romania and the Western Balkan states in a renewed regional format.

Continuing with bilateral topics, the Hungarian prime minister said that they welcome the Polish experience in overcoming rule of law issues, bringing EU funds home and fighting against corruption. In regards to Zbigniew Ziobro and Marcin Romanowski —convicted politicians of the previous Polish government who were granted asylum in Hungary by Viktor Orbán’s administration — Magyar promised that Hungary will no longer be a place where international criminals can hide. He also stated that they would assist the Polish authorities in securing the return of Ziobro and Romanowski to Poland, as both had left Hungary before they could be expelled.

After the two-day visit to Poland, Magyar continued his international trip to Vienna, meeting with the chancellor and the president of Austria. Similarly, a key topic of discussion, beyond bilateral questions, was the possibilities of an enhanced regional cooperation.

The appearance of the new Hungarian government gave an unexpected boost for Central Europe to rethink its cooperation, which — during times when power politics is returning to international relations — might be more relevant for small and medium-sized countries than ever before. The question is whether other countries, despite their different histories and beliefs, will work together on this shared interest.

— Benjámin Lux, Central Europe analyst, contributor for New Eastern Europe

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Alexander von Humboldt Foundation — Humboldt Research Fellowship for Postdocs and Experienced Researchers — An international research fellowship programme supporting outstanding researchers from all disciplines to conduct independent research in Germany. Funded under the Global Minds Initiative Germany, the fellowship offers individual sponsorship, integration into the Humboldt Foundation’s global academic network, and access to a wide range of professional development opportunities. Open to researchers of all nationalities with above-average academic qualifications, the programme particularly encourages applications from women and underrepresented groups. From 2026 onward, applications will follow a new call-based system with three annual selection rounds and capped submission quotas. Earliest fellowship starts begin in February 2027. Expected success rates are approximately 20–25%. Calls for applications open on 15 March, 15 July, and 15 November 2026.

DEAR READER,

This week, we’re diving into the Bucharest Nine summit. Ana Pisarenco breaks down what actually came out of the meeting, why Eastern Europe is pushing for a stronger NATO posture, and what it all means as regional tensions continue to rise.

We are thrilled to share that for the third consecutive year, our podcast has been shortlisted for the prestigious Publisher Podcast Awards in the "Best News and Analysis" category. Additionally, we've just launched a YouTube channel for our podcast — be sure to check it out and subscribe!

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

While NATO leaders spoke inside Bucharest’s Cotroceni Palace this week about deterrence, military readiness and Europe’s long-term security, Moldovan authorities were tracking a Russian drone moving south across the country towards the Romanian border. At roughly the same time, a civilian aircraft carrying passengers from Sharm el-Sheikh was approaching Chișinău.

Inside the summit halls, leaders debated the future shape of Europe’s eastern flank. Outside them, the war was already passing across Moldova’s skies. That contrast captured one of the clearest shifts emerging from this year’s Bucharest Nine summit. Eastern Europe is beginning to speak less like NATO’s frontier and more like one of the places where Europe’s future security order is being defined.

Hosted by Romanian President Nicușor Dan, the summit brought together leaders from NATO’s eastern member states alongside Nordic allies, NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte and Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy ahead of July’s NATO summit in Ankara.

The discussions focused heavily on military production, industrial capacity and long-term support for Ukraine. The summit also revealed how Romania now sees its role inside the region.

On the eve of the meeting, Dan argued that political debate surrounding Ukraine and Russia’s war had reached its limits. He criticized what he described as a tendency among politicians to remain trapped inside familiar narratives that reassure existing audiences rather than persuade wider societies. Public language around the war, he suggested, often stays carefully aligned with existing electorates instead of reflecting the scale of the moment.

A day later, Romania offered the Bucharest summit itself as a platform for Ukraine’s wider diplomatic and strategic messaging. At Cotroceni Palace, Zelenskyy used the gathering to push once again for sustained European support as the war enters another difficult phase. Alongside Lithuanian President Gitanas Nausėda, he signed a new agreement on defence industry cooperation, underscoring how military production has moved to the centre of Europe’s long-term calculations about the war.

Zelenskyy also announced that a Romania-Ukraine agreement on countering drones would be finalized “soon”, while Dan publicly acknowledged Romania’s interest in Ukrainian expertise developed during more than three years of full-scale war.

The symbolism extended beyond formal diplomacy. As political leaders discussed deterrence and military coordination inside the presidential palace, Mirabela Grădinaru, the partner of the Romanian president, appeared alongside Olena Zelenska in a series of public engagements linked to civil society and social causes. The moment added another layer to the summit’s message. Support for Ukraine now extends beyond military and political structures into the language of civic solidarity, public diplomacy and societal resilience.

That broader shift remained visible throughout the summit itself. For years, Romania largely framed Moldova through the language of historical ties, European integration and cultural proximity. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, however, Bucharest has described Moldova more openly through the language of regional security.

Moldova now appears regularly in Romanian political discourse alongside concerns about cyber pressure, Russian influence operations, disinformation campaigns and the militarization of the Black Sea region. The change reflects how dramatically Europe’s security geography has evolved since Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014 and especially since the invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

The Bucharest Nine format, often referred to as B9, was created by Romania and Poland after Crimea’s annexation as a platform for NATO’s eastern members to coordinate security priorities. At the time, discussions centred largely on reassurance measures and allied troop presence. Today, the language is sharper and the stakes are greater.

Conversations revolve around ammunition production, air defence systems, industrial capacity and the prospect of a prolonged confrontation between Russia and the West. Eastern European states speak less like countries waiting for reassurance from NATO’s political core and more like governments attempting to shape the alliance’s strategic direction themselves.

Polish President Karol Nawrocki captured that shift directly when he argued that the Eastern Flank should be viewed as one of NATO’s centres of gravity rather than its distant periphery. The inclusion of Nordic allies reinforced that transformation. Security discussions that once focused primarily on the Baltic region now stretch from the Arctic to the Black Sea, linking northern Europe far more closely to developments around Ukraine and Moldova. Rutte described the gathering as proof of allied unity “from the Black Sea to the Arctic”.

For Romania, the summit carried significance well beyond alliance coordination. Bucharest now presents the Black Sea as one of Europe’s central strategic corridors – militarily, economically and politically. That framing also explains why Moldova featured so prominently throughout the discussions despite remaining outside NATO itself.

The war has made it more difficult for Moldova to separate from the wider instability surrounding Ukraine. Russian drones and missiles cross Moldovan airspace repeatedly. Debris from Russian strikes has landed on Moldovan territory several times during the past two years. Concerns surrounding disinformation and political destabilization have intensified ahead of Moldova’s parliamentary elections last year.

Against that backdrop, the drone incident unfolding during the summit carried symbolic weight beyond the immediate security breach. Even if the episode quickly disappeared beneath Moldova’s daily political noise, it illustrated how physically close the war now sits to both NATO territory and the EU.

For years, much of Western Europe discussed the east as a vulnerable frontier requiring reassurance from the continent’s political centre. The rhetoric emerging from Bucharest suggests the tone is changing. What once looked like Europe’s outer frontier now appears far closer to its strategic centre. And while leaders gathered in Bucharest to discuss the future of the Alliance, the war itself was already moving across Moldova’s skies.

— Ana Pisarenco, founder of the eurOpinii Podcast

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

European Union Institute for Security Studies (EUISS) — EUISS Traineeship Programme 2026–2027 — A 10-month traineeship programme for university graduates and young professionals seeking experience in EU foreign, security, and defence policy research. Running from 16 September 2026 to 15 July 2027, the programme offers nine trainee positions across portfolios including Asia and Global China, Cyber and Digital Technologies, European Defence Policy, Indo-Pacific, Russia and the Eastern Neighbourhood, Sub-Saharan Africa, Transnational Security, and the EUISS Director’s Office. Trainees will contribute to policy-oriented research, event organisation, outreach activities, and analytical projects while working closely with EUISS analysts in Paris or Brussels. Open to EU citizens with a Master’s degree in political science, international relations, economics, or related fields. Monthly grants range from €1,597 to €1,798 depending on location. Application deadline: 31 May 2026.

DEAR READER,

The three-day ceasefire between Ukraine and Russia was almost as symbolic as Moscow's Victory Day parade. Reports from Ukraine indicate numerous violations, while Russia predictably points the finger at Ukraine.

With this in mind, the latest episode of Talk Eastern Europe features a conversation with Mark Galeotti, one of the sharpest voices on Russia. In the episode, our hosts and Mark covered the war economy, internet crackdowns and what Victory Day really tells us about the Kremlin in 2026. We are also inching toward 1,000 subscribers on YouTube, so if you haven't subscribed yet, it would mean a lot! Click the banner below to listen to the episode.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

Are human rights a romantic concept of liberal democracies that have ultimately proved insufficient for saving them from the return of authoritarian governance? The experience of Central and Eastern Europe suggests something more complex. It shows us that although human rights are not the silver bullet against democratic backsliding, they are one of the most important legal tools in the toolkit of democratic resilience.

Modern autocrats play their game by using democratic institutions to unbalance free political competition and seize power by combining nationalist, anti-liberal, and populist agendas, often adding a picture of a dominant leader into the recipe. What mostly puts the effectiveness of human rights mechanisms to the test under their rule is that the destruction of the rule of law and democracy is not happening in the classical coercive way but actually through the law and its selective interpretation. Thus, the rule of law is replaced by the rule by law.

Weaponizing rights

Current politics and legislative initiatives across the region are a playbook example of how democratic erosion in practice increasingly happens through formally lawful but substantively corrosive reforms. This broader pattern is referred to as autocratic legalism, when governments rely on formal legal frameworks to legitimize measures that gradually and systematically dismantle democratic checks and balances. Such a strategy is visible also in their approach to human rights guarantees.

Instead of rejecting human rights outright, modern authoritarian, or authoritarian leaning, governments corrupt the human rights system. They weaponize rights to serve their interests by reinterpreting them, narrowing their content, or selectively invoking rights in such ways that can consequently weaken institutional checks and challenge international oversight. They exploit the interpretative margins that law always leaves. Does this mean that new autocrats are within the margin of subjective interpretation when they change human rights narratives?

The selective invocation of certain rights in opposition to others challenges the balancing exercise. Take the example of the recent criminal code reforms in Slovakia, which are meant to dismantle the independent, and effective, Whistleblowers Protection Office and which have been justified through the language of restoring legality and protecting the rights of the accused. The broader political and institutional context signalled that the language of rights was being selectively mobilized to undermine anti-corruption enforcement and accountability mechanisms.

The controversial judicial reform in Romania between 2017 and 2019, accompanied by mass protests, included attempts to amend criminal laws and weaken judicial independence and anti-corruption mechanisms officially to protect defendants’ rights, uphold the presumption of innocence, and correct “abuses” by prosecutors. A similar strategy was at play in Hungary with the 2021 “child protection” law, which was presented as necessary to protect children’s rights and parental authority. In reality, this move restricted LGBTQ+ rights, a narrative which is continuously used in the country.

Migration is another key field in this regard. The right to seek asylum has been portrayed as a security threat all over the region. The limitation of access to asylum procedures is defended as the protection of the rights of citizens and state sovereignty, even if it means violating international refugee law. These arguments are also increasingly used by countries that have a much stronger democratic record. In 2025, nine European states addressed an open letter asking for a change in the interpretation of the European Convention on Human Rights in the area of migration, especially challenging the evolving case law regarding the expulsion of “criminal foreign nationals” and “irregular migration”. The initiative, known as the Letter of Nine, formally claimed the aim to restore the right balance. However, its language spoke to arguments of safety, security, and national sovereignty.

Another indirect attack on human rights has occurred through the targeting of independent judicial actors who authoritatively interpret and enforce them. During gradual democratic backsliding, the courts are either directly restructured according to the preferences of political leadership and/or their independence is tested by labelling them as elitists and biased in favour of foreign influence. The collapse of judicial independence in Poland, which resulted in the introduction of the disciplinary system targeting judges and political appointments, is a showcase example.

Political will

It would be naïve to believe that human rights mechanisms alone can neutralize abuses of power. These mechanisms face legitimate criticism for being slow, politically constrained and strongly dependent on state compliance. As we have already seen, human rights systems do not always manage to stop the authoritarian drift of determined governments.

In Georgia, as in many other countries in the region, the government went ahead and adopted a controversial “foreign influence” law in 2024 despite strong criticism from the European Union, the Council of Europe, and the Venice Commission. Under the argument of ensuring transparency and protecting national sovereignty, the law directly targeted free civil society and freedom of association. The case of Georgia illustrates how neither EU conditionality nor the external human rights mechanisms succeeded at stopping the democratic regression despite early warning. That is, however, not because rights are weak but because their effectiveness depends on political will. It is also worth remembering that their enforcement is fragile. While rights are strongest when understood as legal standards, they become weak once the political will is gone.

Yet if we only focus on the limits of human rights, we overlook their deeper function in the resilience of democracy. It is true that experience has taught us that enforcement can fall short. However, the existence of powerful legal standards influences political contestation and slows down the process of institutional erosion. This was the case regarding the rule of law improvement in Poland after the systematic review and criticism of regional and international mechanisms. Thus, human rights matter more than ever today. This is not because they always win and protect democracy or right each wrong, but because they slow down possible institutional destruction. In the age of the new authoritarianism, human rights play three key roles in supporting democratic resilience.

Firstly, human rights mechanisms are a cornerstone of democratic resilience. They often serve as an early warning signal when democratic institutions are beginning to erode. While new autocratic leaders rarely attack human rights in direct or openly declared ways, the cumulative effects of their policies and legislation can significantly restrict the enjoyment of rights, especially for particular groups or in specific sectors. Measures targeting civil society organizations across the region illustrate this dynamic. Such actions not only create a chilling effect that discourages civic engagement, but also undermine the protection and exercise of the rights these organizations seek to defend.

The example of Bosnia and Herzegovina is instructive. There, the Constitutional Court suspended a Russian-style “foreign agents” law adopted in Republika Srpska, finding that it failed to meet a pressing social need, was not necessary in a democratic society, and conflicted with the European Convention on Human Rights. This case demonstrates how human rights standards can provide domestic courts with important legal tools to challenge legislation that narrows democratic space.

At the same time, international human rights standards empower other domestic actors, including civil society, human rights organizations and democratic opposition, to challenge democratic regression. The European Convention on Human Rights has played a major role in empowering Russian human rights organizations, activists and lawyers who have continuously challenged restrictive laws and policies in Strasbourg, particularly before the country’s expulsion from the Council of Europe. Judgments such as Kabaliya and Others, Lashmankin and Others, and Ecodefence and Others are among the numerous examples in which the Court found that Russian laws and administrative practices violated the freedoms of assembly and association. Together, these rulings not only exposed the restrictive impact of authoritarian policies on fundamental freedoms, but also helped to consolidate robust regional standards for the protection of civic space.

Secondly, supranational human rights scrutiny becomes crucial when legal reforms are used to weaken the rule of law. When domestic safeguards fail – often as a result of eroded democratic institutions – external review can serve as an important structural corrective. Contemporary autocratic leaders, however, frequently seek to discredit such oversight by portraying it as a form of “western imposition” or undue foreign interference. Hungary’s aforementioned “child protection” law illustrates this tension. The legislation has drawn sustained criticism from international human rights bodies and has led to infringement proceedings before the Court of Justice of the European Union. Although the case remains pending, the Advocate General Tamara Ćapeta has argued in her opinion that, by calling into question the equality of LGBTQ+ persons, Budapest has interfered with several fundamental rights protected by the EU Charter, including the prohibition of discrimination on grounds of sex and sexual orientation, respect for private and family life, freedom of expression and information, and the right to human dignity. Her analysis further suggests that Hungary has moved significantly away from the standards expected of a constitutional democracy.

Continue reading the article by Zuzana Pavlíčková in our latest issue When human rights end. It’s completely free to unlock!

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Stockholm International Peace Research Institute (SIPRI) — Internship with the Peace and Development Research Theme (Aug 2026–Jan 2027) — A full-time internship at SIPRI’s office in Solna, Stockholm, offering hands-on experience at the intersection of climate, security, and global policy research. Interns support research and drafting for major publications, contribute to policy and media outreach, and gain insight into the operational and strategic management of a leading international think tank.

In collaboration with The Eastern Flank

DEAR READER,

This week, Ukraine marks 40 years since the disaster at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant. This incident has persisted as a notable and lasting element in the political history of Eastern Europe.

In our expert opinion, Karolina Zub-Lewińska reflects on what four decades of fallout (both literal and political) mean in the age of Russian nuclear blackmail. We are also sharing an article she co-authored with Tomasz Róg on our website, examining the long-term impact of Russia's occupation of Chernobyl, which remains as relevant today as when it was first published.

Also, the latest issue, “When human rights end” is out! In it, we ask a question that is becoming harder to ignore: are human rights still shaping European politics, or being quietly sidelined? Become a member of New Eastern Europe to get full access.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

IN COLLABORATION WITH THE EASTERN FLANK

The Eastern Flank covers Eastern European geopolitics, security, populism, and the politics of NATO's eastern shield through a combination of weekly news roundups and analysis pieces showcasing how events of global importance are impacting Europe's East. The newsletter's author, journalist Michał Kranz, casts a broad net, but seeks to go beyond the headlines to offer deep context, provide far-reaching insights, and place events within larger trends affecting the region.

Keep up with Ukraine's drone diplomacy, regional adaptations to Russian gray zone warfare, the role of historical identity in Eastern Europe, and everything in between:

Although 40 years have passed since the disaster at the Chernobyl Nuclear Power Plant, it still stirs up intense emotions. Many issues remain unexplained or unsaid. The victims’ trauma has not been addressed, the unsung heroes have not been properly honoured, and the pain of those who lost their lives as a result of the accident still finds no solace. April 26th, 1986 was engraved in the memory of societies not only as the date of one of the greatest industrial disasters in world history; it was also a moment that once again starkly demonstrated the hypocrisy and, at the same time, the inefficiency of the Soviet system, which held the dignity of the individual in contempt. It was the moment when the clock counting down the end of the Soviet Union began to tick faster, and the “Colossus with feet of clay” began to slide ever more rapidly toward collapse, while remaining extremely dangerous at the same time.

For seven decades, fear was the pillar of the Soviet Union’s existence; now it underpins the system of its successor: modern-day Russia. In February 2022, the world was reminded of Chernobyl when the power plant and its surrounding area became a “hostage” in the hands of the world’s largest country, attacking independent Ukraine. When Russian troops took control of the plant in the early stages of the invasion, Western societies held their breath. Reports emerged that Russian shelling of nuclear waste storage facilities could lead to the release of radioactive materials and an environmental disaster threatening European nations. Russia’s nuclear blackmail was initially intended to weaken the willingness of the Western nations to provide aid to the fighting Ukraine; to bring back the terrifying images from years past. Fear was meant to take control of people’s minds, paralyse them, and prevent rational thinking. To stifle the will to act and push independent Ukraine into Russia’s embrace. However, that did not happen. For over four years now, Russia has been dulling its imperial claws, waging war against a much smaller neighbour and showing its ugliest face.

Thanks to the heroic efforts of the power plant staff, a tragedy was averted, and the Western world is beginning to gain a better understanding of Russia’s cynicism and the mechanisms within which it operates. The occupation of the Chernobyl power plant site, which lasted until the end of March, turned out to be a time of looting and devastation of the area. Withdrawing Russian forces also took captive several dozen soldiers of the National Guard of Ukraine responsible for protecting the power plant site. Not all prisoners have returned home yet, where relatives they haven’t seen in over four years await them. Those who have left Russian captivity will forever bear deep wounds on their bodies and in their minds – testaments to the suffering and cruelty. May the harrowing memories of the “Chernobyl prisoners of war” from their time in captivity reach the ears of those who, driven by basic motives, question the necessity to continue supporting Ukraine.

Read more about the long-term impact of Russia's occupation of Chernobyl in the article by Karolina Zub-Lewińska and Tomasz Róg on our website.

— Karolina Zub-Lewińska, Researcher on post-Soviet security

DEAR READER,

We have just returned from the International Journalism Festival in Perugia, and we are coming back with more ideas than we know what to do with. It was great to meet readers, partners, authors and friends, and to see how newsrooms, big and small, are navigating the complexities of today's media landscape with innovative strategies.

Back to business. This week, we’re looking at how Donald Trump’s rhetoric around a possible US withdrawal from NATO is being received across Central and Eastern Europe, and why, from the region’s perspective, the alliance may be turning into something of a paradox in 2026. We asked Wojciech Michnik to take a closer look.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

“The last three months have done more damage to NATO than any other three months in the history of the Alliance,” Ivo Daalder, former US ambassador to NATO, recently observed in The Economist. That verdict may sound dramatic, but from Central Europe, it feels uncomfortably accurate. And overall it might come as a shock. Especially that NATO has undergone a positive transformation recently.

Only a few years ago, after Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine, NATO rediscovered its purpose. It looked unified, strategically focused, and anchored in a clear mission: deterring Russia and defending Europe. Today, that clarity is fading. Not because of a lack of will within the Alliance, but rather because of growing rifts between the United States and some of its NATO partners. What is emerging in its place is something more ambiguous and more dangerous: a transactional alliance where solidarity is conditional and commitments are increasingly politicized.

From the Central European perspective, NATO in 2026 presents a paradox. Militarily, the Alliance has never been stronger on its eastern flank. Politically, it has rarely felt more fragile.

The US-Israel war against Iran has intensified divisions, as European allies refused involvement in out-of-area operations, prioritizing NATO's core European focus. NATO Secretary General Mark Rutte praised the US actions as “important” for degrading Iran's capabilities but clarified that “NATO as an alliance will not join the war”. US President Donald Trump later lamented that “NATO wasn’t there when we needed them,” echoing historical rifts like those during the Vietnam and Iraq wars, but with deeper consequences for the Alliance's unity.

Trump’s recent attacks on European allies, accusing them of “cowardice” by not assisting the US in the Persian Gulf and warning that NATO will “regret” its inaction, are not heard in Poland as a distant dispute over maritime security. They are read as a test of credibility. When Trump calls NATO without the United States a “paper tiger” and suggests that US protection may depend on European participation in American-led operations elsewhere, he is not just venting frustration. He is attempting to redefine the terms of the Alliance. The message is stark: security guarantees may no longer be unconditional.

For countries like Poland, this is not an abstract concern. It is a matter of survival. Poland borders Russia’s Kaliningrad exclave, hosts significant US forces, and lives next door to a brutal, ongoing war in Ukraine. For decades, Polish strategy has been built around a simple principle: keep the US deeply embedded in European security. That assumption now looks less certain.

This uncertainty comes precisely when NATO’s eastern flank has been transformed into the Alliance’s frontline. Multinational battlegroups, expanded exercises from the Baltic to the Black seas, and a reinforced US presence has turned what was once labelled as a buffer zone into a forward defence line. Poland has not been a passive beneficiary of this shift. It has driven it, spending well above two per cent of GDP on defence (currently almost five per cent), investing heavily in modernisation, and consistently pushing NATO towards a more credible deterrence posture. It has also been one of Washington’s most loyal allies in Europe.

But tanks and troops cannot compensate for wavering political commitments. If participation in operations outside NATO’s area, whether in the Persian Gulf today or the Indo-Pacific tomorrow, becomes an informal test of alliance loyalty, then NATO’s core bargain is being quietly rewritten. For frontline states, the Alliance was never about joining optional missions in distant theatres. It was about an unequivocal guarantee of collective defence against a direct and existential threat.

Turn that guarantee into a bargaining chip, and deterrence begins to erode, precisely where it matters most: in Poland’s Suwałki Gap, along the Finnish-Russian border, over Baltic airspace, and across the Black Sea region.

To make things even worse, Central Europe now confronts a far more unsettling possibility than internal disagreement within NATO: a gradual or even abrupt American military disengagement from the Alliance. Whether through reduced troop presence, weakened commitments, or, in the extreme, a US exit from NATO altogether, what once seemed unthinkable is now openly discussed. For Poland and its neighbours, this is not a theoretical debate. It is a strategic earthquake. An American drawdown would not simply “rebalance” the Alliance; it would fundamentally alter its character. NATO without the United States is not the same organisation with fewer resources. It is a different entity altogether, lacking the military weight, nuclear umbrella, and political credibility that have underpinned European security for decades. For frontline states in Central Europe, the consequences would be immediate. Deterrence against Russia would weaken overnight, and the security vacuum along the eastern flank would become all too real.

Even a partial disengagement would carry risks. If US forces in Poland were reduced, or if Washington signalled that its commitment to Article 5 was contingent rather than automatic, the ambiguity alone could invite miscalculation. Something that Russia has already been guilty of, but against Ukraine, not NATO allies. Deterrence depends not only on capabilities, but on belief. Once that belief is shaken, the entire structure becomes more fragile.

This is why the current drift towards a more transactional NATO is so dangerous. If collective defence begins to depend on political alignment with Washington’s priorities beyond Europe, then the Alliance’s core principle is already being hollowed out. The shift may be gradual, almost imperceptible at first, but its endpoint is clear: a NATO where security guarantees are negotiable.

For Central Europe, the implications are stark. The region would be forced to accelerate its military build-up, deepen regional defence cooperation, and rely far more heavily on European powers whose strategic focus has not always aligned with the urgency felt on the eastern flank. None of these are sufficient substitutes for the US.

For more than 77 years, NATO has rested on a simple and credible promise: that an attack on one is an attack on all. If that promise weakens, whether through rhetoric, redeployments, or political conditionality, the Alliance will not disappear. But it will become less reliable, less cohesive, and far less effective. For Poland and other NATO states in the region, that is the real danger: not a sudden collapse, but a slow erosion of the one guarantee that has kept peace on NATO’s eastern frontier. And that is a risk Poland and Central Europe as a whole cannot afford to take.

— Wojciech Michnik, an assistant professor at the Jagiellonian University in Kraków and a contributing editor with New Eastern Europe

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

The European Public Policy Conference (EPPC) is a flagship student-led initiative, bringing together a diverse network of students, policymakers, academics, and practitioners for high-level dialogue on Europe’s most pressing challenges.

For nearly two decades, students at the Hertie School, supported by funding from the IPLI Foundation, have designed and delivered this conference entirely from the ground up: from identifying the most pressing challenges in European public policy and shaping the conference’s thematic focus, to securing speakers, managing promotion, logistics, and budgeting.

The 18th edition of the EPPC will take place on 25–26 April 2026 at the SGH Warsaw School of Economics, under the theme Building a Resilient Union: Defending Democracy Against Hybrid Threats in the EU.

EPPC 2026 aims to respond to a rapidly evolving geopolitical landscape and the growing complexity of threats facing democratic systems across the European Union. The conference will feature a dynamic format, combining expert panels, participatory workshops, and roundtable discussions to foster meaningful dialogue and practical policy exchange, with three core themes:

• Across the EU: Strengthening Democratic Resilience from Within

• In the Digital Landscape: Improving Europe’s Digital Integrity Framework

• At the Frontier: Responding to Hybrid Threats

Find out more in the programme.

DEAR READER,

With a record-breaking turnout of 79.5% in Hungary’s election, Péter Magyar’s party has secured a two-thirds majority, strong enough to begin dismantling the system Viktor Orbán spent years building. He has also pledged to rebuild ties with the EU. We will be returning to Hungary in the coming weeks as the dust settles, but for now, it’s safe to say that this was a historic result.

Meanwhile, in this week’s expert opinion, Vladyslav Faraponov looks at how language in Ukraine has evolved from a cultural issue into a question of identity and national security.

And one more thing: are you curious who’s behind our illustrations? Check out our short video with illustrator Andrzej Zaręba, where he talks about his work and what inspires it.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

I am a Ukrainian Jew who grew up in a Russian-speaking family. Russian was the language of my childhood, education, and everyday life. Yet today, my son is growing up in a fully Ukrainian-speaking environment, with Ukrainian as his first language.

This shift was not imposed. It was not the result of bans or repression. It was a consequence of Russian aggression and a conscious rethinking of Ukrainian identity. This is a key reason why claims that Ukraine has suppressed Russian-speaking citizens do not hold up. To understand this issue, one must move beyond political slogans and examine how language in Ukraine evolved from a cultural matter into a question of identity and national security.

From cultural diversity to political manipulation

Ukraine has never been a monolingual country. Upon gaining independence in 1991, it inherited a complex linguistic landscape shaped by centuries of imperial and Soviet rule. Millions of Ukrainians spoke Russian in everyday life while identifying fully as Ukrainian citizens.

From the very beginning, the Ukrainian state attempted to balance two goals: promoting Ukrainian as the state language while also protecting minority languages. The 1996 constitution enshrined this compromise by guaranteeing both the development of Ukrainian and the protection of Russian and other languages. However, this balance was fragile, and in practice skewed heavily towards the dominance of the Russian language.

For decades, Ukrainian passports were issued in both Ukrainian and Russian, and for many Ukrainian speakers, the state language remained marginalized in public life with Russian instead widely used in the media, business, and daily life across much of the country. For Russian speakers, any attempt to strengthen Ukrainian was often framed as exclusion.

As a result, language became not just a cultural issue, but a political one. However, it was not always the case. It was only when Russia began to lay claim to the so-called Russian-speaking South and East, Ukrainians began to realize that Moscow’s “protection” narrative was a pretext for undermining Ukrainian sovereignty.

Russia’s narrative: language as a tool of influence

For decades, the Kremlin promoted the narrative that Russian-speaking Ukrainians were oppressed and needed protection. This framing served a geopolitical function. By portraying Ukraine as divided along linguistic lines, Russia aimed to justify its continued influence and, eventually, intervention. After 2014, this narrative became central to Russia’s aggression. The annexation of Crimea and the war in Donbas were explicitly justified as efforts to defend Russian speakers. Yet, as many investigations have shown there was no evidence of systemic persecution of Russian-speaking Ukrainians – the protection argument was a political construct, not a reflection of reality.

The turning point: language becomes security

The most important shift in Ukraine’s language debate occurred after Russia’s aggression in 2014, and accelerated after the full-scale invasion in 2022. Following this, language in Ukraine gradually became securitized, as promoting and speaking Ukrainian began to be treated as an issue of national survival and a part of defending the state and its values rather than a policy preference. As one analysis conducted by the independent research foundation Eurac notes, the Ukrainian language became closely linked to territorial integrity and national security, with courts explicitly recognizing that threats to the language can be seen as threats to the state itself.

Russia weaponised this policy shift by framing the promotion of Ukrainian in school, media, and state communication as a “ban” on the Russian language. This linguistic narrative was combined with other campaigns, where Ukraine’s aspirations to join the European Union and the status of the Black Sea Fleet in Crimea were portrayed as existential threats to Russian security. However, inside Ukraine, these narratives found little support outside of pro-Russian circles. The majority of the population did not view these measures as a prohibition of the Russian language. As the Eurac analysis specifically highlights, Ukraine remained a multilingual society where people continued to use Russian and other languages in both the private and public spheres. What had changed was not the existence of Russian in Ukrainian society, but the hierarchy of languages in public institutions.

“De-Russification from below”

One of the most overlooked aspects of Ukraine’s linguistic transformation is that much of it has occurred voluntarily to emphasize the country’s difference to Russia after Moscow’s military aggression. Many Ukrainians who previously spoke Russian have consciously switched to Ukrainian in daily life. This process has been described as a grassroots “de-Russification from below”.

This shift is not driven by fear of being punished for speaking Russian. It is driven by solidarity and resistance. For many Ukrainians, continuing to use Russian, a language now associated with the atrocities of the war, feels politically and morally uncomfortable. Switching to Ukrainian becomes a way of affirming belonging to a political community currently under attack.

Despite this, the narrative of “oppression” continues to appear in western political discourse. Statements suggesting that Russian-speaking Ukrainians do not identify with Ukraine reflect a fundamental misunderstanding of the country. Ukrainian identity is civic, not linguistic. Russian-speaking Ukrainians have voted for pro-European policies, participated in protests, and fought in the armed forces. Language has never determined loyalty. The persistence of these narratives demonstrates how effective Russian information campaigns have been. By reducing the conflict to language, they obscure its true nature: a war against Ukrainian statehood.

Transformation, not suppression

For decades, Ukraine existed between two spheres – culturally tied to Russia but politically oriented towards Europe. This tension was embodied in language. Each wave of language policy, from compromise to conflict to Ukrainization, reflects an attempt to define what Ukraine is and where it belongs. Today, this process has accelerated. Promoting Ukrainian is not only about communication. It is about asserting a distinct national identity in the face of external denial.

There is no evidence to support claims that Ukraine suppresses Russian-speaking people. What exists instead is a post-imperial process of nation-building, shaped by war and external aggression. Language policy in Ukraine is not about banning Russian, but about strengthening Ukrainian as a symbol and instrument of sovereignty.

My own family’s story mirrors this transformation. Yet today, the choice of language carries a different meaning. The shift to Ukrainian in my family is not imposed, it is deliberate. It reflects a broader societal change in how Ukrainians perceive themselves and their future.

For my son, Ukrainian will not be a political decision. It will be natural. And that is perhaps the clearest evidence that what is happening in Ukraine is not suppression, but transformation.

— Vladyslav Faraponov, Chief editor of the Gaze media outlet, President of the Kyiv-based Institute of American Studies

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Think Visegrad — Fellowship Programme 2026 — A short-term fellowship for researchers and professionals from outside the Visegrad countries to conduct policy-relevant research at leading think tanks in Central Europe. Fellows spend 6–8 weeks in the Czech Republic, Hungary, Poland, or Slovakia, developing a project in political science, international relations, or economics, and contributing to regional policy debates.

Participants produce a policy paper, present their findings publicly, and collaborate with experts on ongoing research. The fellowship provides a €3,400 stipend plus up to €500 for travel. Open to applicants with relevant research or policy experience and strong project proposals. Deadline: May 15, 2026.

DEAR READER,

Happy Easter week to all who celebrate! We will keep it short this time: Hungary heads to the polls this Sunday in what may be the region’s most closely watched election, and naturally, we have got you covered.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

On April 12th, Hungarians will cast their votes to elect a new government. The stakes are higher than ever in the last 20 years, not only because there is a real chance to defeat Orbán, but also because the elections have strong international connotations.

After winning four elections in a row with a two-thirds majority, Fidesz seemed almost untouchable in Hungarian politics. Now in 2026, Viktor Orbán’s party is lagging behind the opposition in most polls with a margin of double digits. The popularity of the government started to drop in February 2024, when a pardon scandal ended the Fidesz-nominated Katalin Novák’s presidency, which led to the appearance of Péter Magyar in political life. As a former member of Fidesz and ex-husband of Orbán’s former Minister of Justice, Judit Varga, Magyar started his political movement in March, winning 30% of the votes in the EU elections held in June the same year. Although Fidesz tried to discredit Magyar and his Tisza party many times, the previously successful tools and accusations (be it real or politically fabricated) didn’t seem to work against them.

After two years of political fighting, the official election campaign kicked off in late February 2026. By that time, however, the society had been polarized so much that it has become hard for these two “realities” to reconcile. The government – finishing a very unsuccessful term economically – is trying to turn the voters’ attention to foreign policy and security threats, while claiming that they are the only “secure choice”. Their narrative claims that the EU and Ukraine want to intervene in the elections and help their puppet, Péter Magyar, to power so they can drag Hungary into the war. Orbán goes as far in his rhetoric as claiming that on April 12th Hungarians will choose between himself and Zelenskyy.

Meanwhile Tisza, combined with anti-government media, are trying to highlight all the disadvantageous policies of Fidesz. The lack of progressive reforms in education, health care and rail transport and the pro-Russian foreign policy have always been major topics for the opposition. Yet, the main focus now is on political crimes and scandals of the government. Since February, several Fidesz-related affairs have come to light, including emissions of harmful substances from a battery factory with the administration’s awareness, the Minister of Foreign Affairs’ close ties to Moscow, accusation of the government using counter-intelligence for political purposes, and a documentary highlighting how Fidesz uses systematic intimidation and manipulation to get the votes from the most vulnerable segments of society.

Although the elections take place on Sunday, it is still hard to predict the outcome. There are many aspects to bear in mind. Firstly, the election system is mixed majoritarian, with dual voting and compensation mechanisms. As a result, Fidesz could still receive more mandates even if Tisza wins the popular vote by a small margin.

Turnout will also play a huge role. Undoubtedly the record of participation (70,21%) will be broken, but it’s unclear who will benefit from it. According to recent polls, Tisza’s mobilisation is close to 100%, while Fidesz is still under 90%, therefore a high turnout favours the main opposition only to a certain level. Very high participation (80%+) would probably benefit the current government.

Small parties could also be decisive. Last year a trend emerged, where small parties with public support between 0,1 and 3% started to withdraw in favour of Tisza, in order to defeat Orbán. As a result, only three minor parties were able to field a national list for the elections. Concerning the Democratic Coalition (DK) and Hungarian Two-Tailed Dog Party (MKKP), many of their supporters have Tisza as a secondary preference. According to polls, neither DK nor MKKP will be able to surpass the 5% threshold. As their main aim is to defeat Orbán, the pressure is increasing for their candidates to withdraw, as opposition votes cast for them would otherwise be wasted. The only small party with a realistic chance to pass the 5% threshold is the far-right Our Homeland (Mi Hazánk) – though a high turnout would lower their chances as well. If the far-right gets into parliament and no party receives a majority, the Our Homeland party could become the decisive force. This would likely favour Fidesz, as the two parties are ideologically close.

Lastly, due to the international importance of the elections, foreign interference could play a bigger role than before. In case Orbán – a prominent symbol of right-wing populism – loses, it can negatively affect the global alt-right and far-right community. Additionally, a change of government in Hungary would not only help cooperation and speed up decision-making within the EU, but also hinder Moscow in its ongoing hybrid operations against the EU and NATO.

Although the government warns about intervention from Brussels and Ukraine, the main actor who is notorious for interfering in elections in the western world is Russia. As the relations between Budapest and Moscow are quite close, the possibility that Putin’s regime and Fidesz are coordinating their actions to keep Orbán in power should not be excluded. What further complicates the situation is that Donald Trump, due to ideological reasons, is also endorsing the current prime minister, while other western allies, directly or indirectly, are more supportive towards Tisza.

All things considered, if nothing extraordinary happens until Sunday, the most possible outcome is a three-party parliament with Tisza winning the popular-vote followed closely by Fidesz, and Our Homeland just surpassing the threshold. Yet, due to the election system an above-mentioned result would not automatically imply that Magyar’s party will be able to form a majority government. Furthermore, as new stories are getting revealed day by day, the possibility of a black swan event that could drastically change public opinion should not be excluded either. Fidesz have already showed on March 15th that they are capable of implementing a (literal) false-flag operation and it was also revealed that a Russian SVR officer has suggested that “drastic actions might be necessary” to turn the ties to Orbán’s favour. We will have to wait and see. One way or another it will go beyond an ordinary election.

— Ludwik Botfy (pseud.), Budapest-based analyst

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

European Council on Foreign Relations (ECFR) — Office Manager & Assistant to Head of Berlin Office (May 2026–Aug 2027) — A full-time, fixed-term role supporting the day-to-day operations of ECFR’s Berlin office, which serves as both a national office and organisational headquarters. The position combines office management, administrative support to the Head of Office, and coordination of events and stakeholder engagement, ensuring smooth operations and a well-organised, collaborative work environment. Responsibilities include managing office administration, coordinating meetings and travel, overseeing budgets and communications, and organising high-level events and activities. Ideal candidates have 2–3 years of relevant experience, strong organisational and communication skills, and proficiency in English and German. Based in Berlin; candidates must be eligible to work in Germany. Deadline: April 6, 2026.

DEAR READER,

Central and Eastern Europe is full of great newsletters, so why not team up and share them? Last week, Moldova Matters author David Smith approached me with exactly that idea, and I was on board immediately. If you are looking to expand your regional reading list ahead of the Easter break (don’t worry, we’re publishing Brief Eastern Europe as usual next Monday), check out the special section below and discover a few new inbox favorites.

In this week’s top story, which has also been published by New Eastern Europe, we turn to Latvia. Rebecka Pieder looks at how the country and its citizens are preparing for the possibility of a Russian invasion, and how resilience is holding up as the war in Ukraine enters its fifth year.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

When Diana Selecka woke up on February 24th 2022, she was excited. It was her name day. She was looking forward to celebrating with her colleagues in Rezekne, the Latvian border town where she lives, and had even picked out a special white blouse for the occasion. But as she read the news that morning, and learned of Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, she put on a black one instead. She has not celebrated her name day since.

The impact of the war in Ukraine, now in its fifth year, has reverberated across the European continent. With their long history of Soviet occupation, Latvians have felt this in an especially deep way. Their response has reached far beyond an increase in military spending and into the fabric of everyday life.

“Now, Russians are saying to Ukrainians that they are like big brothers for the Ukrainian nation,” Selecka said. “No, they are not. And we will never be brothers again.”

Except for a brief stint studying in Russia, Diana has lived her whole life in Rezekne, a city about 50 kilometres from the Russian border. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, she swiftly joined the National Guard, where she has been a member for 31 years. Her daughter followed suit and has been a member for five.

“It is very good to understand that we have this power to defend our country,” Selecka said. “It is real power.”

Since the start of the war, Latvia has been forced to navigate questions about its own survival. While military leaders and international relations experts stop short of calling an invasion imminent, politicians and analysts stressed that depending on the outcome of the war in Ukraine, Latvia could be next.

“As a country and as a society we are really supporting Ukraine very much,” said Jana Simanovska, a member of parliament from the Progressives. “Because we see us really as next on the menu, if Ukraine will be swallowed.”

When walking along the snow-covered cobblestones of Riga, visitors see the Ukrainian flag everywhere. Even in the Latvian parliament, the Saeima, a small Ukrainian flag sits level with the Latvian one on the speaker’s podium. Across from the Russian embassy, a colossal mural depicts Russian President Vladimir Putin, his face grotesquely merged with a skull, in a clear sign of where many in this country stand.

As a NATO member, Latvians take comfort in knowing that an attack on Latvia should trigger a response from all 32 member states, as stipulated in Article 5 of the North Atlantic Treaty. The Alliance has increased its military presence in the region over the past few years, with Sweden and Finland joining in 2024. But Latvia has placed great emphasis on its own defence, hoping to prevent war by preparing for it.

“If we are ready, then I believe that’s what can stop them,” said Leila Rasima, also a member of parliament from the Progressives. “If we are weak, if we are not ready, for Putin that’s an invitation.”

Latvia has more than doubled defence spending in the last five years, re-introduced military conscription, and launched cultural campaigns to ingrain the message that defence is everyone’s responsibility. The National Guard, or Zemessardze, plans to increase its ranks from 10,000 to 12,000 members by 2027, with each member training for 28 days per year.

While careful to note that she speaks only for herself and not in any official capacity, Selecka described how the National Guard has integrated with society. At their training, she sees neighbours, local shopkeepers and school teachers, all with the common purpose of being ready to defend their homeland should the time come.

“When the war in Ukraine started, a lot of people said they didn’t know what to do,” Selecka said. “What to do, where to go, all these things. And now, our society is ready.”

Latvia has a sweeping defence vision, according to Latvian Armed Forces Colonel Maris Tutins. Formalized by the Latvian Ministry of Defence as comprehensive national defence, the strategy posits that every corner of society must be prepared and resilient when faced with a crisis.

“We want to build a nation in arms,” Tutins said. “Everybody has to understand how to contribute to the defence.”

This extends even to children. The Latvian Youth Guard, or Jaunsardze, a state-sponsored youth organization for Latvians between the ages of ten and 21, encourages patriotism and offers training in first aid, physical fitness, and defence. Every student must study military defence and attend a compulsory summer training camp.

For over a decade, the Latvian National Armed Forces have conducted an annual month-long exercise called Namejs, bringing together all ministries, municipalities, private companies and even the state broadcasting service to stress-test the country’s readiness for crisis, whether this be a natural disaster or war.

“You never are able to be absolutely ready,” Tūtins said. “Because the adversary owns the element of surprise anyway. But you must be as ready as possible.”

Dr. Māris Andžāns, director of the Center for Geopolitical Studies in Riga, painted a measured picture of Latvia’s threat from the East. While Russia has the military capabilities, it is currently focused elsewhere, something that could change quickly depending on the outcome of the war in Ukraine. If Russia were to act, he believes it would likely start small: a move against a border town or village, designed to test NATO’s response.

“They might invade a city, or a town, or a region, and then say, let’s see. Would President Trump risk a nuclear war?” Andžāns said. “Are you ready to die for Daugavpils, or are you ready to die for Narva?”

Both are border cities, with Daugavpils in Latvia and Narva in neighbouring Estonia possessing large Russian-speaking populations. These areas are often mentioned as potential flashpoints between NATO and Russia. But the threat to these communities, Andžāns argued, is not only military.

The more immediate danger comes in the form of disinformation. When Latvia’s large Russian-speaking population seeks out Russian media as a means of connecting with relatives and friends across the border, they enter a very different information space than their Latvian speaking neighbours.

“Russia doesn’t need to do anything special here,” Andžāns said. “We have people who are interested in what Russia has to say, and many people buy Russia’s narrative.”

Tūtins said he sees the information space as inseparable from military effectiveness. If Russia dominates the narrative, he argued, civilian support for the defence effort cannot be guaranteed. Latvia considers control of the information space as a defence priority in its own right.

In Latvia’s eastern border region of Latgale, many live in Russian-dominated information bubbles. The Latvian government has taken steps to lessen propaganda, including banning Russian state television channels. However, social media presents a more complex challenge. The Rezekne municipality civil defence manager Pāvels Savickis calls cybersecurity the most difficult threat his team faces. While his office posts information at bus stops and other public places, it cannot control what people read on their phones.

Selecka, the long-time National Guard soldier in the border town of Rezekne, said she has felt this in her own community. She described how in the immediate aftermath of Russia’s 2022 invasion, some locals posted on social media that they would welcome Putin with flowers if the Russian army came, and that Ukrainians deserved to die. In the four years since the war started, this has changed.

“They are not so loud anymore,” Selecka said of the Russian sympathizers in Latgale. “If somebody thinks this way, they can discuss it with their family in the kitchen, not in a public place. It is forbidden.”

Latvia became the first of the Baltic states to prosecute individuals for wilfully spreading dangerous falsehoods.

A brochure released by the Latvian defence ministry, titled “72 Hours”, instructs citizens on how to navigate the first crucial three days of a potential invasion. Running throughout is an emphasis on avoiding disinformation and using trusted sources. At one point, in all-caps, the 26-page booklet warns:

“ANY INFORMATION ABOUT SURRENDER OR NON-RESISTANCE IS FAKE NEWS.”

The brochure also includes a recommended list of emergency supplies to have at home, such as 12 litres of water per person, canned food for three days, a pre-packed escape bag, and cash for at least a week. It also reminds people to keep pet food and baby supplies on hand.

Selecka keeps a bag packed, her car filled with gas at all times, and has an evacuation plan. She would take her family to their countryside estate, and suspects many of her neighbours would do the same. Latgale sits cornered between Belarus and Russia, and the area’s geographical vulnerability worries her.

Having grown up in Soviet-era Latvia, Selecka recalls the sometimes cruel treatment of Latvians under occupation. While the war in Ukraine added urgency to the comprehensive defence strategy, for Selecka the threat from Russia was never abstract.

“Here in Latvia, we always have this feeling that we are not safe with Russia next to us,” she said. “But nobody talked about it loudly, and now it is different.”

— Rebecka Pieder, Journalist

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Sympodium Institute — Postgraduate Programme in Strategic Communications (2026) — An international postgraduate programme designed for emerging professionals seeking to develop expertise in strategic communications in a rapidly shifting global landscape. The programme explores the intersection of geopolitics, geoeconomics, and geoecology, equipping participants with the analytical and communication skills needed to navigate complex international challenges and inform decision-making. Open to candidates holding or completing a bachelor’s degree with strong academic performance. Deadline: May 29, 2026.

DEAR READER,

March 25th will mark Freedom Day for Belarusians. Following the recent release of political prisoners by Alyaksandr Lukashenka, we are taking a closer look at what’s really behind the move, what Belarus stands to gain, and what it actually means for those fighting for a free Belarus.

On our side, we have hit an important milestone: $10,000 raised in our fundraiser. A huge thank you to everyone who contributed, your support keeps this work going. And one more thing: Talk Eastern Europe is now on YouTube. Come find us there and hit subscribe!

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

Belarusian authorities released 250 prisoners on March 19th, including prominent human rights defenders Marfa Rabkova, who faced 15 years on extremism charges after five years imprisonment, alongside Nasta Loika and Valiantsin Stefanovich. While most freed individuals remained in Belarus, at least 15 were transferred to Lithuania accompanied by a US delegation.

Those released had been imprisoned under politically motivated charges, retaliation for professional activities including human rights work or participation in protests following the disputed 2020 presidential election that triggered large-scale demonstrations and subsequent mass arrests.

This release followed negotiations with the US, leading to eased sanctions targeting Belarusian financial institutions and key export sectors. As Belarus attempts improving US relations, this marks the second major prisoner release following American engagement. In December 2025, authoritarian leader Alexander Lukashenka's government released 123 political prisoners after meetings with the US envoy, including Nobel Peace laureate Ales Bialiatski, who spent decades campaigning for those imprisoned for political beliefs.

With the total tally of released political prisoners increasing, US envoy John Coale stated he expected all remaining political prisoners (approximately 1,100 according to Tsikhanouskaya's office) released before year's end, Reuters reported.

During the visit, the US envoy and Lukashenka also discussed possibilities for Lukashenka's US visit, representing a potential breakthrough for Belarus. Coale indicated discussions covered potential reopening of the US embassy in Minsk, which Washington closed after Belarus allowed Russia to launch its 2022 Ukraine invasion from Belarusian territory.

Using prisoner releases as bargaining chips has drawn Western criticism. Amnesty International's Eastern Europe and Central Asia director stated: "While the release of hundreds of individuals unjustly detained on politically motivated charges is a welcome step, it must not be mistaken for justice. Freedom should never be the product of geopolitical bargaining in human beings. Justice will not be served until those responsible for their unlawful imprisonment are held accountable."

Nevertheless, cooperation between the two countries is clearly expanding.

On March 25th, Belarusians will celebrate Freedom Day. Tsikhanouskaya published a statement calling on supporters to participate through various solidarity actions: voicing support via statements, tweets, and posts using #StandWithBelarus; displaying the national white-red-white Belarusian flag through banners, posters, or hashtags in public spaces; organizing discussions, seminars, exhibitions, cultural events, and film screenings on Belarus; and joining or organizing solidarity rallies with Belarusians abroad.

These transactional releases show that Belarus is willing to leverage human rights as diplomatic currency in pursuit of sanction relief and international legitimacy, particularly from the Trump administration seeking regional engagement. However, these releases do not address systemic repression mechanisms or accountability for those responsible for arbitrary detentions. Thus, the Western communities are faced with a dilemma: welcoming individuals who were released while acknowledging that they perpetuate a framework where fundamental freedoms become bargaining, negotiating commodities. This exact approach can be replicated by other authoritarian leaders from the region.

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Asia Global Institute — Asia Global Fellowship Program (2026) — A highly selective fellowship for mid-career professionals worldwide working across policy, politics, civil society, and business with a focus on Asia-Pacific issues. The programme brings together leaders with 8–25 years of experience to deepen their understanding of regional dynamics, engage in policy-relevant dialogue, and strengthen their ability to address complex global challenges. Fellows join a diverse international network and contribute to discussions on key regional and global issues, with an emphasis on leadership development and policy impact. Open to applicants from all countries with strong professional track records and demonstrated commitment to the Asia-Pacific region. Deadline: March 31, 2026.

DEAR READER,

This week we turn our focus to the Western Balkans. In our expert opinion piece, Hikmet Karčić examines the growing narrative portraying Bosnia and Herzegovina as a “clash of civilizations”. The author argues that such rhetoric seeks to repackage local ethno-nationalist agendas into a global story that resonates with contemporary anxieties about migration, identity and sovereignty.

We have also got some exciting news: Talk Eastern Europe is heading to YouTube. Make sure to subscribe and catch our first video episode premiering tomorrow. From now on, we are doubling up with two episodes a week — a deep-dive interview every Tuesday and a news roundup every Friday. And don’t worry, if you prefer listening, all episodes will still be available on Spotify and other podcast platforms.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

In recent months, certain Bosnian Serb political leaders, have increasingly adopted the language of a supposed “clash of civilizations” to describe Bosnia and Herzegovina. This framing does not emerge in isolation. It mirrors and appeals to a broader wave of nativist and far-right ideologies currently reshaping political discourse in parts of Western Europe and North America. By portraying Bosnia as a civilizational fault line between Islam and “the West,” such rhetoric seeks to reposition local ethno-nationalist agendas within a global narrative that resonates with contemporary anxieties about migration, identity, and sovereignty. In doing so, it attempts to secure international sympathy and political capital abroad, while recasting long-standing domestic disputes over power, corruption and local politics as part of a larger civilizational struggle.

In European public discourse, we often hear narratives about Muslims as “the other”, a foreign body that cannot fit into the secular and Christian fabric of the Old Continent. This image particularly affects Bosniaks, who are portrayed in such discussions as “misfits”, outsiders in their own home. However, this perception is not just inaccurate, but also deeply unfair to a people who might be the best proof that Islam and Europe cannot only coexist but mutually enrich each other.

Let's be clear about one thing: the first and most powerful argument against the “misfit” thesis is the simple fact that Bosniaks are an indigenous European people. They didn't come to Europe; they've always been in it. Their history in the Balkans goes back centuries, and their identity has been shaped by, among other influences, Central European culture, especially during the Austro-Hungarian monarchy. Ignoring this means erasing centuries of shared history and cultural exchange.

The problem isn't Bosniaks failing to fit in: it's that Europe's imagination still searches for the “real” European in a mold that excludes everything beyond the dominant Christian culture.

While fears are often planted that Muslim religiosity leads to ghettoization and rejection of Western values, research tells us something completely different. A 2024 study by Francesco Trupia on young Bosniaks in Belgium, Germany, and Poland revealed something fascinating: a high level of religious identity doesn't fail to hinder integration and civic engagement, in turn, it actually encourages unconventional and non-institutional forms of political participation.

Put simply, young Bosniaks who nurture their faith are simultaneously more active members of society. They find new ways to contribute to the communities where they live. That's the exact opposite of the "misfit" image living in a parallel world.

These young people, born or raised in the West, have developed what researchers call a “European Islam”: an identity that reconciles family heritage and faith with belonging to modern European societies. They even distance themselves from other post-diaspora Muslim communities to emphasize their specific, European interpretation of Islam. That's not a sign of not fitting in, it's a highly developed awareness of how to be Muslim and European simultaneously, without any contradiction.

Perhaps the strongest proof of how deeply rooted Bosniaks are in European values comes from how they've dealt with their own trauma. Research by Amra Sabic-El-Rayess on Bosniak-Jewish relations through the centuries offers an extraordinary example of resilience. Despite genocide, the destruction of mosques, and systematic persecution, Bosniaks didn't respond with hatred. Instead of tearing down others' places of worship, they rebuilt their demolished mosques — several times on the same spot.

Conventional wisdom says trauma breeds violence. But Bosniaks consciously chose coexistence. Their history, especially the centuries-old symbiosis with the Jewish community in Sarajevo, testifies to a deep understanding of “the other” that forms the foundation of any modern, open Europe.

While Europe's far-right echoes rhetoric with roots partly in anti-Muslim narratives from the former Yugoslavia, Bosniaks represent the living antithesis to such thinking, a people who survived and kept their values despite attempts to erase them.

The narrative about Bosniaks as “misfits” actually reveals more about Europe than about Bosniaks. It exposes a discomfort with the fact that identity isn't monolithic, that you can be different yet completely belong. Research shows young Bosniaks in the diaspora are integrated, active citizens developing an authentic European Muslim identity. They're not waiting for Europe to accept them. They are already actively shaping its future.

Instead of seeing them as a problem, it's time to recognize them as a bridge. A bridge between East and West, tradition and modernity, faith and secular society. If Europe is looking for a model of how to build a society resilient to hate and open to diversity, it doesn't need to look far, just toward Bosnia and Herzegovina and its Bosniaks, indigenous Europeans who've been living proof for centuries that coexistence is deeply valuable.

— Hikmet Karčić, Research Professor at the University of Sarajevo

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Casimir Pulaski Foundation — New Security Leaders Programme (2026) — A leadership and mentoring programme for mid-career professionals in foreign policy, defence, security, and politics. Participants engage with senior mentors, policymakers, and experts to discuss major global security challenges while building a cohort of emerging transatlantic leaders. The programme runs alongside the Warsaw Security Forum, offering fellows opportunities to contribute to discussions and network with the international policy community. Activities include remote cohort sessions and Leadership Talks ahead of the Forum, as well as dedicated roundtables and engagements during the conference. Deadline: June 1, 2026.

DEAR READER,

As the world seems to be jumping from one historic moment to the next (hence the bulky top stories of the week), we are keeping our eyes on the latest escalation around Iran, this time reaching the South Caucasus. Last week, drones struck the airport in Azerbaijan’s exclave of Nakhchivan, bringing the conflict even closer to the region. We decided to ask Murad Muradov, deputy director of the Topchubashov Center, to walk us through what this means for Azerbaijan, and whether Baku is likely to respond. You can read more in his expert opinion.

Now a quick note from our editorial team.

Last week we shared a message with members of New Eastern Europe about the future of the magazine. After our publisher, the College of Eastern Europe, concluded one of its major grants, our ability to continue publishing increasingly depends on the support of our readers. The response has been incredible. In just a week, our community helped raise more than $1,000, bringing us very close to our $10,000 goal. At the moment, we’re sitting at $9,500, which means we are almost there.

So first and foremost, a big thank you! Your support keeps independent analysis on Central and Eastern Europe alive. And if you’ve been thinking about contributing, click the link here and help us push the campaign closer to the goal. Every donation, large or small, helps us continue publishing, supporting our authors, and providing the kind of in-depth regional coverage that is increasingly hard to find.

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

The bombs that started to drop on Iran in the morning hours of February 28th signalled the ultimate dismantling of the global order, which started with the invasion of Ukraine four years earlier. While this dismantling began with the institutions and norms of international law, it has now reached even the basic assumptions about rational foreign-policy behaviour. The United States appears to lack both a coherent long-term vision of its objectives in this conflict and a full awareness of the growing array of risks that each new day the war brings. This makes the task of foreseeing their further decisions more difficult than ever, adding to a huge pool of uncertainties.

These uncertainties are multiplied by the “madman strategy” adopted by lran as its modus of response to the US-Israeli attack. This strategy envisages inflicting maximum harm to the global economy, connectivity and infrastructure in the hope to maximise the cost of the war to third countries so that they start to pressure the US to switch to negotiations. This explains regular Iranian strikes on the Gulf monarchies of Saudi Arabia, Untied Arab Emirates, Kuwait, Bahrain and Qatar (not limited to American military bases) as well as the closure of the Hormuz strait to oil tankers. These actions have affected countries that depend heavily on oil and gas exports, on imports of essential goods, and on the protection of the US security umbrella. So far they have refrained from responding directly. Yet if Washington fails to protect them from further strikes and the accompanying economic disruption, they may start to reconsider their policies in ways unfavourable to the West, possibly setting off a wider chain reaction.

As the region lying at the crossroads between several major powers and sharing a long border with Iran, the South Caucasus could not have remained unaffected by these major perturbations. The last doubts were dispelled when four Iranian drones hit the Nakhchivan exclave of Azerbaijan, including its airport, the only means of uninterrupted communication with the mainland. This attack prompted a very severe response from the president of Azerbaijan, Ilham Aliyev who called it “unmanly and coward”, while shutting cargo transit with Iran and ordering the armed forces to be on high alert. Two days later, in an uncharacteristic gesture, Iran’s President Masoud Pezeshkian apologized for “all strikes ... against neighbouring countries that didn’t participate in attacks on Iran”. Since the Gulf states, housing US military infrastructure, do not fit this description, there are little doubts he meant Azerbaijan specifically. On Sunday, the two leaders held a rather positive telephone conversation, after which Baku re-opened the border with Iran for trucks and resumed flights to Nakhchivan. However, it happened after an unambiguous statement by the Turkish foreign minister, Hakan Fidan, who strongly warned Tehran against repeated assaults against Turkish or Azerbaijani territory. This simultaneously demonstrates the significance of the Baku-Ankara alliance and Iran’s unwillingness to confront Türkiye.

Nevertheless, the risk that the region may be drawn into the conflict remains significant. Azerbaijan, given its strained relationship with its southern neighbour, appears particularly vulnerable. The revolutionary guard, the IRGC, a bastion of Iranian hardliners, has long viewed Baku with hostility and has repeatedly accused it of assisting Israeli operations against the Islamic Republic. The war has further strengthened the IRGC’s position within the elite, and the elevation of Khamenei’s son Mojtaba — an ultra-conservative figure possibly further radicalized by the death of several members of his family in an Israeli strike — to the position of supreme leader does not bode well.

On Saturday, the IGRC openly disavowed Pezeshkian’s statement, and in order to further undermine the moderates’ reputation, they might consider conducting another strike against Azerbaijan. Another incentive is the latter’s growing importance as an energy supplier and transport hub. With Gulf oil effectively out of market and global prices skyrocketing over $100 per barrel, disruption of Azerbaijani oil and gas export could exacerbate global economic chaos — something Iranian hardliners would likely favour. At the same time, Azerbaijan turned into a bottleneck for the connection between Europe and Central Asia, yet another critical region whose significance should grow as large swathes of Eurasia are getting enflamed.

Azerbaijan is affected by this war also through the issue of Iranian Azerbaijanis, the second largest ethnic group in Iran who mostly live compactly in the immediate vicinity to their ethnic kin in the north. Thus far, Azerbaijanis have not been actively involved in the anti-government movement, however if either US/Israeli strikes or Iranian measures to curb opposition start to cause growing casualties in the region, popular pressure on Baku to interfere somehow may become significant. Azerbaijan, with all its interest in regional stability and inviolability of borders, will not be able to just sit back if Iran’s Azerbaijanis are subject to humanitarian catastrophe or large-scale repression.

The war in Iran could also impact the peace process between Azerbaijan and Armenia. Washington’s heavy involvement, particularly its role in the planned TRIPP corridor whose construction was set to start in the second half of 2026, had already put it into Tehran’s spotlight, and this negativity is likely to exacerbate. In any case, works on the TRIPP will likely not start until the conflict in Iran ends, at least if the latter retains capacity for inflicting damage. Azerbaijan and Armenia should then discuss alternative options and scenarios so that their peace process doesn’t fall prey to the Iranian conflict.

At the same time, Tehran and probably Moscow, might be tempted to use the momentum to try to re-ignite the conflict between Baku and Yerevan, acting through the revanchist opposition and the general population’s mistrust and fears. As the election in Armenia approaches, and with it the potential to disrupt stability, there is a need for the two countries to discuss and implement pro-active measured aimed at reassuring each other — and their own citizens — about the normalization process. In this regards, suggestions made by some Armenian experts to grant a humanitarian corridor through the Syunik region to Nakhchivan in case Baku needs it, seems really promising.

— Murad Muradov, Deputy Director of the Topchubashov Center

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

Royal United Services Institute — Brussels Internship Programme (Up to 6 Months) — A hands-on internship at RUSI’s Brussels office supporting work on European and transatlantic security and defence policy. Interns assist with organising high-level conferences and roundtables, communications and outreach, stakeholder engagement, business development, and background research informing the institute’s policy outputs.

The programme offers professional experience within a leading international think tank, including exposure to policy debates and networking with policymakers, academics, and industry experts. Open to university students in international relations, political science, communications, security studies, or related fields who are based in or willing to relocate to Brussels. Internships last up to six months and are unpaid; Erasmus+ students are encouraged to apply. Applications are accepted on a rolling basis.

DEAR READER,

This week marks four years since Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine. This year, instead of repeating the usual debates regarding the geopolitical analyses, we decided to look at the human side of the war. What does resilience look like after four years? And what happens when resilience turns into fatigue? Our main story by Vladyslav Faraponov and Anastasiia Rudenko focuses on the psychological toll, the quiet social shifts, and the everyday dilemmas Ukrainians face as the war drags on.

Also, a quick note: our latest issue, Europe in the new disorder, is now out. It’s available to our members. And if you’re not one yet, you know what to do (just click the link).

Enjoy reading this week’s “brief”!

— Giorgi Beroshvili, Editor

When Russia launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine four years ago, much of the world was stunned. The deliberate targeting of civilians in an attempt to force territorial concessions seemed both brutal and strategically irrational. Yet the Kremlin proceeded with the so-called special military operation. While Putin’s initial calculations proved deeply flawed, the war has fundamentally reshaped Ukraine, Europe, the United States and the global order itself.

Ukraine was already close politically and economically to Europe before 2022. Still the key message that Ukraine tries to convey to Europeans is that the war is in Europe and against Europe. If Europeans still insist that this horrible war is distant and refuse understand the reality, then Russia’s open and hybrid aggression against it will only increase. You cannot pretend to not be eaten by a tiger if he is already eating your arm.

It is only due to bravery and ingenuity of the Ukrainian armed forces who defend Europe so missiles and drones don’t land on European territory regularly. In the first months of the full-scale invasion, Ukraine somewhat unexpectedly applied for membership in the European Union. An idea closely associated with the Revolution of Dignity, when president Viktor Yanukovych refused to sign the Association Agreement with the EU, and meant a great deal to Ukrainians. Ukraine’s application didn’t ease the suffering of the war, but provided a chance to believe that all of the years of trauma due to Russian aggression was not pointless. The EU granted Ukraine candidate status in June of 2022 and Kyiv now expects a fast-track accession in 2027, according to President Volodymyr Zelenskyy.

One may say that Ukrainians did not really have much faith in European support in the first years of the war. Although as time passed – with Russian drones falling not only on Ukrainian land but provocations in Europe growing – Europe became a true partner for Ukraine in military and other aid. And this is not to mention the huge difference in approaches of US policy which emerged after Donald Trump replaced Joe Biden in Washington.

According to February 2026 estimates of the Kiel Institute for the World Economy, EU member states’ military aid to Ukraine rose by almost 70 per cent compared to 2022-2024, this is in addition to non-military aid increasing by roughly 60 per cent. The reality behind that tendency is a small number of countries supporting Ukraine militarily, and financial aid coming from the EU institutions, for which Kyiv is grateful.

Ukraine watches how Putin’s manipulation works on Trump.

The Biden Administration took the notable, and once criticized approach, of support Ukraine for “as long as it takes”. Many in Ukraine at the time saw this idea as a non-concrete and too general, which would not allow Ukraine to win. However, the idea of supplemental packages from Congress, which made Ukraine feel more secure and indeed stronger on the battlefield was enough to sustain, but not enough to regain the initiative.

It is clear from events in Ukraine that Putin’s strategy is to exhaust Ukraine’s partners. Constant reports of victims and destruction wear down public attention and political will. President Trump’s efforts to bring Putin to the negotiating table are appreciated. However, they seem to rest on the assumption that all leaders are primarily concerned with their country’s welfare and their standing at home. Putin is neither guided by such considerations nor constrained by them, and Ukrainians are paying the price for this misunderstanding. Over the past 25 years, several American presidents have attempted to engage Putin as a difficult but rational rival. In reality, he regards them not as rivals but as enemies, speaking a foreign language, even when no interpreter is present.

What is crucial for Ukraine is that President Trump has, at least rhetorically, acknowledged the need to provide security guarantees. From the Ukrainian perspective, the issue is straightforward. If the West wishes to resume business as usual with Russia, Kyiv will not stand in the way. But security must come first. Without it the European, transatlantic, and American assistance of the past four years would be rendered meaningless.

How has Ukrainian society changed in the four years?

Even the most resilient people grow tired of having no control over their own lives. Ukrainians remain largely positive, known for their sense of humour and their aspiration to re-join Europe and the broader civilized world. Russia, by contrast, seeks to reduce Ukraine to a place where it can stage medieval aggression and impose an authoritarian worldview.

A recent Facebook post by a woman in Kharkiv, Ukraine’s second-largest city, captured this exhaustion. She wrote that she felt saddened when, after yet another strike, people once again praised “unbroken Ukrainians.” Kharkiv, like many cities in the east and south, can hardly be compared to its former self. Ukrainians do appear increasingly frustrated. They understand the immense potential their country holds, and they see how Russia tries to buy time and prolong the war.

It is also important to point out that soldiers and civilians are dying not only from direct attacks. The psychological and mental toll is profound and increasingly visible.

The war has also cut straight through people’s private lives. Many speak of a surge in divorces. Families have been physically separated for months or even years: someone joins the army and cannot see their loved ones; women and children leave for safety abroad; home becomes a long-distance relationship with no clear end date. And yet, alongside this exhaustion, there is a stubborn countercurrent. Many have chosen not to postpone marriages or children, saying that bringing new life into the world is their answer to the darkness Russia continues to sow.

Some joke that half the country lives with post-traumatic stress and the other half simply refuses to acknowledge it. But even when people don’t use clinical words, you can see the symptoms in the smallest things: in how we react to sounds, how we sleep, how we hold our breath during “quiet” nights, how we avoid imagining the future because it feels like tempting fate.

At the same time, Ukrainians are trapped in a dilemma that has no morally comfortable solution: support the economy or support the armed forces directly especially for men. Not everyone is capable of fighting on the frontline, and not everyone should be there: someone must teach our children, work in the government, keep hospitals running, keep cities and villages alive – including Kharkiv and the countless smaller communities that rarely make headlines. Otherwise, Ukraine risks looking like it is fighting for land, not for the people who are meant to live on it.

Ukrainians and their leadership may sound and indeed are sceptical of the peace negotiations, not because they do not want peace, but because they have learned from experience that fragile agreements serve as an invitation for further aggression.

It is clear and simple: Ukraine already had many talks with Russians from 2014 and yet it is Russia that is obsessed with Ukraine and who attacks civilians even during the peace negotiations.

The authors dedicate this text to their son, who was born in the third year of the full-scale war.

— Vladyslav Faraponov, President of Kyiv-based Institute of American Studies & Anastasiia Rudenko, Editor in Chief of Rubryka

OPPORTUNITY OF THE WEEK

University of Oxford — Oxford AI and Media Policy Summer Institute — A two-week intensive programme at Jesus College, Oxford exploring the evolving relationship between sovereignty, multilateral cooperation, and digital governance. Under the 2026 theme “Governing AI and Media in a World Between Orders: From Sovereignty to Multilateral Cooperation,” the Institute examines how legal and institutional foundations of technology and media policy are being reshaped amid global uncertainty.

Participants will engage in interdisciplinary discussions on platform governance, content regulation, AI supply chains, sovereign AI, cross-border data architectures, and the geopolitical dimensions of digital infrastructure. Case studies will span diverse global contexts, with attention to both European regulatory developments and Global South perspectives. The programme brings together academics and leaders from policy, government, civil society, and industry, fostering rigorous debate and international exchange within Oxford’s academic community.

Early decision deadline: 14 March 2026. Final application deadline: 21 April 2026. Early applications are encouraged, particularly for those requiring a UK visa. Apply online.