Disclaimer: This profile is based on an extended interview conducted with a serving member of the Armed Forces of Ukraine. The soldier’s name and call sign are used with consent.

Dmytro, known by his nom de guerre “Student,” has spent the past three years in uniform. He joined the Armed Forces of Ukraine on February 24, 2022, the first day of Russia’s full-scale invasion, answering a call to what he describes not as a sudden impulse, but as a moral certainty. Now a combat medic in the Reconnaissance Company of the 106th Separate Territorial Defence Brigade, Dmytro was just twenty-two years old when the full-scale invasion began.

When the air raid woke him up on the morning of the 24th, he already knew where he was going. His father had been helping Ukrainian soldiers since 2014, after Russia first occupied Crimea. Dima grew up inside that world: distributing bulletproof vests, learning military equipment, and often participating in training at the local polygon. Ironically, February 24 was meant to be a shooting practice day and his gear was already packed.

“I woke up to the siren and my first thought was that I already knew where to go”, he recalls.

When he arrived at the recruitment centre, there were already too many people. There was nowhere to sleep. He was issued a uniform and sent home, told to return later. That first night, nine people shared four beds, rotating sleep while others stood watch.

“I never second-guessed my choice” Dmytro says. “I knew it was my responsibility to protect my homeland, my family and my people.”

For him, civilian life was no longer an option. He explained that the existence of a frontline, where people were dying every day, made the idea of continuing life as before feel morally impossible.

“There are moments when it is objectively terrifying,” he admits. “When an enemy drone is flying nearby, I even start to believe in God.” What keeps him going after all this time is not adrenaline but as a combat medic, he sees the impact his work makes. His brigade has suffered a minimal number of casualties, something he connects directly to planning, training and logistics. He designs evacuation plans down to the smallest detail, ensures vehicles are stocked with proper medical equipment and provides extensive medical training to fellow soldiers.

“I like to achieve things,” he says. “When I see that someone comes back alive from a mission because I planned their evacuation, stocked the vehicles properly, trained the unit, that keeps me going.”

When asked about the role civic identity played in his decision, he said that civic identity is inseparable from action. He speaks less about rights and more about responsibility.

“I believe in basic values, fairness, and truth,” he explains. “If you are a man, you have to prove it through your actions. Patriotism and honour are not words.”

Loving one’s country, in his view, does not mean accepting its failures. If something is broken, whether in government, institutions, or the military, it must be changed.

“I don’t want to come back from war and see that everything stayed the same,” he says. “We need change.”

Even amid constant Russian attacks, Ukrainians continue to demonstrate a deep commitment to a pro-democracy civil society. Ukraine consciously chose a democratic path, and despite the strains of war, the country persists in building resilient institutions and reinforcing democratic governance. The summer 2025 protest emerged in response to a high-profile corruption scandal involving a close advisor to Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and the resignation that followed. This protest and subsequent cabinet reshufflings highlight how public pressure and demands for accountability continue to shape political decision-making in Ukraine, even in the midst of war. These events demonstrate that Ukrainian civil society remains active and engaged, insisting on transparency and reform while the state simultaneously fights for national survival.

Dmytro’s experience on the frontlines reflects the same sense of civic responsibility. His commitment to serve, improve systems within his unit, and protect his comrades resonates with the broader determination of Ukrainians to defend not only their territory, but also the democratic values and institutions they have worked so hard to build.

Life at the Front: Environment and Morale

Life at the front is defined by simplicity and scarcity. Routine is dictated by opportunity, not preference. “If you have a chance to do your laundry, you do your laundry,” Dima says. “Because the next chance might be in a month.” Units often stay in abandoned houses. They take care of the property and of the animals left behind. Dogs and cats are fed before soldiers worry about themselves. “It’s funny sometimes,” he smiles. “We might be able to eat very little for a few days, but the pets must be taken care of.”

The army has reshaped his understanding of human nature. Age, once synonymous with authority, no longer guarantees respect. “I used to think age gives wisdom,” he reflects. “Now I know that only actions do.”

Despite constant danger, Dima does not feel that his life is on hold. He does not plan far ahead for a future after demobilization, not because he lacks hope, but because his focus is anchored firmly in the present. “My life is here,” he says. “I want to be useful to my team.”

He continues to make plans for improving systems within his unit, refining processes and improving the quality of life for his comrades. The war has made him stronger and more resilient, but it has also sharpened his understanding of what matters. He sees his family approximately thirty days a year and the distance has reordered his priorities. “Before, I avoided family time,” he admits. “Now I know my family is my home.”

Fear is constant, but it is contextualized. “You can be afraid now under a Ukrainian flag,” he says, “or later under an occupation flag, forced to fight on their side.”

When asked about the challenges soldiers face and the support available to them, Dmytro reflects on the growing emotional and psychological toll of the war. After years of continuous fighting, fatigue is setting in, and the weight of that responsibility is becoming harder to carry. While soldiers remain deeply committed to their mission, they also recognize that they deserve stronger systems of care in return, especially when it comes to mental health support. He further reflects:

“The work is difficult, and there are psychological supports offered, but we are lacking a systemic approach to mental health for both soldiers and veterans. There are simply too many people and individual support is hard to provide. It’s also not normalized to ask for help. What has helped me personally is physical activity and maintaining a good nutrition routine. We sometimes have presentations or webinars about breathing techniques or wellness tips, but there isn’t consistent one-on-one support.”

The War Beyond the Ukrainian Trench: International Support and Its Limitations

From the frontline, international support is not an abstract policy debate.

“Definitely, you can feel the support from Western countries at a systemic level, through additional education, training and supplies,” Dima says. “As a combat medic, I would not be able to do my job without Western support.” At the same time, he is acutely aware of its limits. Assistance often arrives slowly, entangled in bureaucracy, disconnected from the immediacy of frontline needs. “War is expensive,” he says. “You need a lot, in large quantities, and ideally you needed it yesterday and not in two months.” Because of these delays, individual soldiers and units frequently organize personal fundraisers to improve their chances of survival. Our past piece on Civilian Frontlines: Drones, Fundraising, and Evolving Military Policy unpack the role informal fundraising plays out on the Ukrainian battlefield.

Dima spends much of his salary ensuring his unit is properly equipped. He does not have savings for civilian life. “I spend my salary so that me and my comrades come back alive,” he says. His battalion has a CASEVAC vehicle. Many others do not. From his perspective, there is often no systemic understanding of what is urgently required on the ground.

General geopolitical narratives also shape morale. He recalls how speculation abroad about quick diplomatic solutions led some soldiers to relax, a dangerous illusion. “If you relax on the frontline, you are dead,” he says. “Or your comrade is dead. That’s the reality.”

Dima believes many countries underestimate Russia because they have never experienced its occupation or repression firsthand. “A lot of the world doesn’t understand what kind of evil Russia is,” he says. “They’ve never had direct contact with occupation.” At the same time, reliance on Western support should not replace internal responsibility. Ukraine, he argues, must continue working toward self-sufficiency. “We can’t wait for someone to come and save us,” he says. “We need education and training early, so people are ready to show their love for the country through action.”

Recruitment, Mobilization and the Weight of Reality

According to Dmytro, recruitment and mobilization remain deeply flawed. War, he argues, is often romanticized, while the reality is left unspoken. “We need a healthy approach to recruitment,” he says. “And from early on, we need to teach young people about responsibility as citizens of Ukraine.” He is blunt about demographic reality: young, healthy people are needed at the front. A fully professional contract army is a goal, but not a current reality during a full-scale invasion. “We are not close to winning this war,” he says. “The government needs to explain that protection of the homeland comes through military service.” He also points to systemic issues inside the army: recognition that does not always reflect contribution, bureaucracy that resists innovation and tensions between volunteers and career military personnel.

“The full-scale invasion showed how two different worlds met,” he explains. “Volunteers came with creativity and initiative, while career military often do everything strictly by the book. But the frontline changes fast. We need new solutions.” Many talented people from civilian fields are now in uniform, trying to improve systems while navigating internal resistance. “For volunteers, rules are sometimes more flexible,” he says. “But internal battles with bureaucracy still exist.” For him personally, financial incentives or benefits were never a consideration. “I wasn’t thinking about money when I joined,” he says. “My role is to implement changes that can save lives or health.”

Dmytro also reflected on how gender continues to shape realities on the frontline. “Throughout my service, I have seen women occupy a wide range of roles, from frontline positions to more supportive ones, and many of them demonstrate remarkable courage, strength, and resilience, often exceeding that of their male counterparts. One challenge I have observed is the assumption that the combat medic role is inherently more suitable for women because it is associated with healthcare. In reality, the position is extremely demanding. A significant part of the role involves physically evacuating wounded soldiers from frontline positions, who are often much larger in size, requiring specific physical capacities.

There are, of course, many stereotypes about women in the military, most of which are still perpetuated by older career personnel. At the same time, I have served alongside many women who are exceptionally strong and capable, while continuing to carry their femininity within an environment that remains deeply masculine and physically demanding.”

Rethinking Victory

When asked what victory means, Dima rejects the term entirely.

“We should ban the word ‘victory,’” he says. “It has a positive connotation, but what happened to us, especially to people in occupied territories, is a tragedy.” For him, the end goal is not celebration, but accountability. “The collapse of the Russian Federation would not bring back lost lives,” he says. “But at least we could say that, at a heavy price, we defeated evil.”

Narratives about victory are often amplified through social media in Ukraine and sometimes presented as morale-boosting policies by the government. However, when asked whether he feels a disconnect from civilians during short breaks in areas far from the frontlines, Dmytro is quick to acknowledge that civilians will never fully understand a soldier’s experience simply because they have never been there. It is a particular type of as Donna Haraway defines it. He says you cannot put yourself in the shoes of a soldier and that it is okay. You do not need frontline combat experience to show empathy. What Ukrainians are lacking, he believes, is basic respect for people in uniform and for soldiers.

Dmytro is clear that soldiers deserve understanding and recognition from civilians, but he is even more demanding of the government. In his view, the state owes them guarantees of a decent life after demobilization and meaningful support in return for everything they have done to preserve Ukraine’s sovereignty. He is honest about the challenges ahead, including reintegration, PTSD, and other psychological struggles, and he stresses that society should already be preparing to welcome soldiers back and help them rehabilitate. He firmly believes that as strong as Ukrainian society is, there is still a lot of work to do, starting with improving access to medical services, resources, and knowledge about what support exists.

When asked about the scariest experience he has had, Dmytro described the first time he truly felt that death was close. During a massive attack by Russian forces, he ran toward a trench and heard a mine explode right behind him. He still does not understand how he survived. That moment, he says, made him realize just how fragile life on the frontline can be. While the Ukrainian government has not officially disclosed the number of soldiers who were not as lucky as Dmytro and were killed in action, . Many Ukrainian soldiers remain in Russian captivity, a situation that requires urgent attention from the international community and sustained efforts to secure their release.

At the time of this writing, Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has surpassed the length of the Soviet Union’s war against Nazi Germany. Dmytro’s story is not unique. The resilience of Ukraine rests in the hands of people like him who answered the call to serve their country, carrying not only the weight of the battlefield but the hopes of an entire nation. Their courage should serve as a reminder to us all that the values of freedom, human rights, and democracy are often inseparable from the willingness to defend them on the battlefield.

The post “I Never Gave Myself a Choice”: A Ukrainian Combat Medic on War, Responsibility and Freedom appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

On November 1st, 2025, , the site of a railway canopy collapse that killed sixteen people just a year prior. Novi Sad railway station, intended to be a symbol of modernization after renovations led by , instead became a demonstration of how quickly corruption can turn deadly. Student-led protests quickly began, calling for accountability and a transparent investigation on the incident; however, as resistance and negligence continued, the movement quickly grew to a revolt against an entire system deemed corrupt. Aleksander Vučić, the president of Serbia and founder of the ruling Serbian Progressive Party (SNS), has long defined his rule in Serbia through increasing autocratization. His anti-democratic methods have incited more outrage, but also made it more difficult to realize change. What are some of the successes and challenges that have defined the movement so far? What are possible next steps?

Success through community

One of the most notable features of the protests was the ability to mobilize vast sectors of the population. Leaders like Vučić are very skilled at making citizens feel shut out from politics; the protests have reawakened a sense of agency and power among society. The students leading the protest have been able to gain the support of the , , , and . Students have made an effort to include marginalized voices, which has bridged the divide between urban-rural populations, cultural groups, and sectors. Key to the organization has been its leaderless and decentralized form. Rather than establishing any new kind of hierarchy, the protests have opted for horizontal forms of authority, which ensure all participants are equal. for debates and decisions. This has also allowed all participants to feel that they are actively involved in their own governance and society, rather than remaining disenfranchised. The tactics used by the protestors have also aided its success. Actions that are symbolic, yet peaceful and legal, have made resistance approachable. These include traffic blockades, inter-city marches, social media campaigns, and marathons to Brussels.

The protests have pushed the resignation of select key officials, including the . An investigation was opened, but the lack of progress and reality of state power of the judiciary remain an issue. Similarly, partial documents around the construction project have been released, but much information . The protesters, after much campaigning, have received official support on October 22, 2025. This could have impacts on the ability for external actors to pressure Vučić. The sustained cooperation and power of the protests remain its biggest success, demonstrating the power of the people and the ability for citizens to regain their voice.

Challenges: state pushback

Crackdowns on civil society, control over free press, patronage networks, and election interference have become characteristic of Vučić’s office, undermining Serbia’s development as well as its pathway to democracy and EU accession. This has led to many calling for a leadership change. Vučić has responded by attacking the protestors, labelling them as . Physical attacks, smear campaigns, doxxing, unlawful questioning/detainment, and the controversial continue to be ongoing threats levied against protestors. Attacks on the educational sector have also been strong, with teachers facing pay cuts and threats since the beginning of the protests. Over the summer, government response became increasingly violent, with . This has drawn international criticism and has exponentially increased the threat level for protest participants. The government has also organized , though they remain smaller than their opposition.

State pushback and unwillingness to discuss have impeded the ability of meaningful dialogue and reform to occur; however, the system was designed this way. For protestors, it is difficult to translate actions into meaningful reform through the barring of political participation in civil society. , and social-political structures are captured by the state. Additionally, the has stood out for being very reticent in their support, likely due to fears over economic uncertainty following a new government, or to their own connections to .

An additional area where more support would be instrumental relates to international and external actors. The EU’s formal resolution came after months of relative disengagement from events in Serbia. Many may view student protests as a potentially unstable bet, however there should be strong support for civil society and the principles the protestors are advocating for. For a long time, international actors who support Vučić (such as Russia and China) have been louder than those in support. Considerable political transformation must take place in order to pressure Vučić, both internally and externally.

Where to next?

Currently, the protest sits at a defining moment. The past year has seen success through mass mobilization, the resignation of key officials, and the EU’s resolution of support for the protest. However, the government remains strong, and while . This has raised the issue of how to navigate these challenges. A major debate surrounds how the students should engage in the electoral arena. A student’s list of outsider candidates is being developed, however . It is difficult to justify joining the very system seen as corrupt, and there are concerns the election will not actually reform the system, just change the face. Additionally, attempts from are a growing internal issue that risks causing further division and factionalism. It may require the protestors to set ideological lines, countering its primarily apolitical image.

The protests in Serbia demonstrate the power of collective action and citizen mobilization. Its year-long anniversary marks a crossroads where the collective needs to decide its next steps. How they choose to orient themselves could have deep implications on the success of the protests and the growing political voice of the people.

The post Reflecting on 1 year post Novi Sad: Where to next? appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

When Albania’s Prime Minister Edi Rama joked that his new artificial intelligence (AI) “minister,” Diella (Albanian for Sun), was “pregnant with 83 children” (a metaphor for 83 digital assistants that will serve members of parliament), he turned an . The move to incorporate AI into governance itself is considered by many to be amusing, unsettling, and even revealing, as it shows how easily AI can be warped into a spectacle while subtly re-wiring how decisions about money and power are made. Diella is also the world’s first AI system formally appointed as Minister of State for Artificial Intelligence, with responsibility for.

From Virtual Assistant to Cabinet-Level Minister

as a virtual assistant on the , intended to assist Albanian citizens in accessing documents and other online public services. Nine months later, in September 2025, following a decree that authorized a virtual minister, Rama had elevated Diella to the rank of Minister of State for Artificial Intelligence, .

Such an unorthodox move has garnered plenty of international coverage, as many have framed it as both an anti-corruption experiment and a form of political branding, describing Diella as a digital assistant dressed in traditional clothing, now tasked with making public tenders free of corruption. However, some have also pointed out that procurement in Albania has long been dominated by political elites and oligarch-like figures, making .

A Spectacle?

Writer/researcher : essentially shifting political responsibility to digital actors and presenting them as being pure, incorruptible, and tireless, standing in for distrusted political elites. Perhaps accidental, this comes across as not a neutral design choice. Presenting the system as a woman in traditional costume frames digitalization as care and service rather than control, pulling on gendered stereotypes while also making it difficult to contest the new political innovation without appearing as “anti-modern” or “anti-progress.” The “” metaphor pushes this further, casting Diella as a digital mother of dozens of subordinate systems that will monitor and help with parliamentary work. It infantilizes MPs as being dependent on an algorithm, and suggests that political conflict within parliament can be processed by a neutral machine rather than by openly accountable representatives.

The move to incorporate AI into governance sits at the intersection of EU accession politics and digital dependency, as Diella is likely based on OpenAI models hosted on Microsoft Azure, which is precisely the kind of . Hypothetically speaking, if Albania were to obtain EU membership and Diella were to operate within the EU, it would be flagged as a high-risk system under the new , where stringent requirements are imposed on the usage of AI in public services and resource allocation. Such frameworks do not yet bind Albania; however, it is clearly experimenting in exactly the domain in which the Act targets, that being algorithmic governance, where constitutional accountability is thin.

Canada’s “Sovereign AI” Moment

Canada is moving quickly in a similar direction by embedding AI into state structures, but with a different approach. The announces $925.6 million over five years for “large-scale sovereign public AI infrastructure,” including a Sovereign Canadian Cloud to support research and public-sector AI use. The federal government is implementing AI and .

Canada already has a formal governance “toolkit” or framework for implementing public-sector AI. The government’s and its official guidelines require “algorithmic impact assessments,” the formal documentation of the systems used, and alternative mechanisms for performing similar functions when automated decisions may potentially affect rights and interests. Moreover, the further defines sovereignty as the ability to manage and protect government data, systems, and infrastructure independently in a globally interconnected environment.

However, Canadian experts warn that infrastructure and branding risks could outpace efforts to control them. As noted by , Canada’s dependence on American companies is one of the most significant risks and complications facing Canadian digital sovereignty, particularly given the dominance of US providers in digital and cloud services.

Put side by side, Albania and Canada reveal the same underlying question: who actually controls AI in the state, and under what rules? Diella is clearly an extreme case of AI as spectacle: an AI minister is “pregnant” with assistants, purity, and efficiency in a system still wrestling with corruption and weak checks. Whereas Canada’s “sovereign AI” push is more technocratic, but it faces its own temptation to treat big AI spending and a branded cloud as proof of control, even while key infrastructure and AI models remain under foreign corporate jurisdictions.

The core lesson for Canada is not to mock Diella, but to avoid a more subtle version of the same trap. As AI becomes more integrated into sectors that the federal government may deem appropriate, the real test will be whether such systems are contestable or even grounded in enforceable law, rather than merely marketed as innovative or sovereign, as it is easy to get caught up in the media storm and publicity such reforms seem to command. Canada’s task should be to ensure that its “sovereign AI” remains democratic, even when there is no digital “minister” on the screen.

The post Democracy Meets AI appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

Canada’s history of nation-building has often unfolded at the intersection of infrastructure development and perceived security threats. From the transcontinental railway conceived in part to secure the young Dominion against American encroachment, to Cold War northern radar lines and continental defence networks, major national projects have frequently been justified not only as economic necessities but as strategic imperatives. As the elevates defence priorities and strategic infrastructure, particularly in the Arctic and across continental supply chains, it raises a familiar question and uncomfortable idea: does Canada only undertake ambitious infrastructure development when compelled by external threats? By revisiting the historical relationship between security threats and national project building, this article considers what this pattern reveals about Canada’s political past and the lessons it offers for contemporary policy and transatlantic comparative studies.

The Coastal Axis: CPR and Early Infrastructure

The Canadian Pacific Railway (CPR) stands as a foundational example of this logic. Conceived amid and the risk that an unsettled West could drift economically and politically toward the United States (US), the CPR functioned as a strategic bulwark that anchored Canadian sovereignty across the continent. By enabling settlement, troop movement, and the extension of federal authority into the Prairies, most notably during the 1885 , the railway served not only as an economic artery but also as a mechanism for internal security and territorial consolidation. At the same time, it linked Canada more tightly to the British Empire’s , simultaneously reinforcing imperial strategy and the emerging Canadian . 
Much like the CPR, the Trans-Canada Highway and other Cold War-era infrastructure projects reveal continuity in Canada’s security-driven nation-building logic. Beyond facilitating civilian mobility and economic integration, the and northern air routes allowed for the rapid deployment of troops and equipment in response to potential Soviet threats and domestic emergencies. Similarly, the (DEW) Line established early-warning capabilities across the Arctic, asserting Canadian sovereignty in the North while contributing to continental defence under (North American Aerospace Defence Command). 
In both eras, the federal government prioritised projects that reinforced territorial integrity and strategic control over those motivated purely by domestic economic or social needs, demonstrating a persistent Canadian pattern: transformative infrastructure tends to be realised most decisively when framed as essential to national security.
These security-driven infrastructure projects also entrenched Canada’s strategic integration with the United States, marking a gradual. As the two countries emerged as close allies through the First and Second World Wars, Canadian security concerns shifted toward fortifying the North American continent, exporting its security logic into a shared framework institutionalised through NORAD. Cold War-era highways, ports, and northern transport corridors not only enhanced continental security but also. By embedding Canadian development within a North American strategic orbit, these projects created enduring dependencies, rendering Canada’s capacity to transport resources and sustain its economy increasingly contingent on US logistical systems and policy priorities.
This historical pattern offers a critical lens for interpreting the 2025 federal budget, which continues to and , while recalibrating American dependence. Through , , and , the government is reorienting Canada away from exclusive US dependence while maintaining continental interoperability. Central to this objective is the creation of the , which seeks to streamline approvals, coordinate federal oversight, and accelerate nationally controlled infrastructure and resource projects, thereby “untangling” Canada’s development pathways from excessive external dependency. At the same time, this recalibration foregrounds persistent questions about , underpinned by , and , regarding the and Arctic.

Analysis: Security, Trade, and Governance

Between 1885 and 1945, Canadian nation-building and infrastructure development followed a deliberate, security and export-driven logic. the sparsely settled Prairies to eastern markets while eastern manufacturing hubs processed raw materials for export to Britain and eventually the United States, reflecting the . Infrastructure projects were often , punctuated by accelerated development during the First and Second World Wars. in the Prairies were integral to this strategy, as European settlers were encouraged westward to solidify sovereignty and develop agricultural production, often displacing Indigenous communities. Across this period, infrastructure and population policies were from nation-building objectives, in which strategic, economic, and territorial imperatives drove the scope and pace of Canada’s development.
The 1970s illustrated the vulnerability inherent in Canada’s US-oriented economic integration. on key Canadian exports, including lumber, steel, and agricultural products, exposed the risks of over-reliance on a single partner. In response, Canada pursued “”, diversifying trade by building stronger ties with the European Economic Community (EEC), expanding exports, and investing in diplomatic and industrial capacity abroad. This episode illustrates a recurring tension in Canadian planning: infrastructure and resource networks often bind the country to dominant powers, but trade and security shocks push the government to seek alternative markets and greater autonomy, a tension that remains relevant when evaluating the 2025 budget and the conflation between nation-building and infrastructure projects, especially in the context of the current Canada-US relationship.

The Axial Shift: Arctic Expansion and Contemporary Policy

The 2025 federal budget continues this historical logic. The government is investing $1 billion over four years in an , supporting dual-use transport projects (airports, seaports, and all-season roads) that serve both civilian communities and the Canadian Armed Forces. A backed by $6.6 billion over five years aims to strengthen domestic defence manufacturing and reduce reliance on external suppliers. Investments in and reflect lessons from past vulnerabilities, seeking to ensure Canada can reach non-US markets while maintaining continental security. At the same time, hiring new Canadian Border Services Agency (CBSA) officers and deploying modern surveillance technology highlights an emphasis on border integrity, sovereignty, and alignment with .
However, these initiatives, in particular those related to transport infrastructure, carry serious trade-offs, particularly for Canada’s northern Indigenous populations. Historically neglected communities have endured profound infrastructure deficits. This includes a lack of reliable , , , and access to , contributing to devastating outcomes such as and other . Framing new infrastructure and connectivity projects primarily in terms of security and critical mineral extraction risks repeating patterns of utilitarian development: resources and logistics are prioritised for national and global strategic benefit, rather than meeting long-standing basic needs of Canadian citizens. 
Unlike provinces, whose powers are constitutionally entrenched, Canada’s northern territories derive their authority from federal statute, meaning their . The territory of Nunavut is a prime example of this, as its government operates with delegated authority, meaning Ottawa . While comprehensive land claim and self-government agreements, such as the and the , grant significant rights to Indigenous communities, these protections are rather than inherent under the Constitution. This distinction has important implications: Arctic projects framed primarily as security measures may proceed under federal authority, potentially overriding community priorities and reproducing historical patterns of federal control over resource frontiers.
Beyond Indigenous concerns, prioritising defence and security-linked infrastructure risks diverting funds from other social programs, and environmental : Arctic roads, ports, and extraction-linked infrastructure can accelerate , threaten , and . Enhanced border security and may further reinforce dependence on the United States, limiting true strategic autonomy. These tensions echo historical patterns: Canadian infrastructure, trade, and settlement have long sought to balance sovereignty, economic resilience, and security imperatives, often at the expense of social equity and environmental sustainability.

The Future of Security-Focused Nation-Building

Canada’s nation-building trajectory, from the CPR to Cold War highways, the DEW Line, and today’s Arctic investments, reveals a persistent intertwining of infrastructure, security, and sovereignty. The 2025 federal budget continues this logic, funnelling resources into projects meant to bolster resilience, protect supply chains, and advance Canada’s position within an increasingly competitive international landscape. Yet, as history consistently demonstrates, these initiatives carry significant trade-offs. Communities long excluded from meaningful infrastructure and basic services risk being once again overlooked as national strategy takes precedence. Through this historical lens, it becomes clear that Canada’s contemporary approach to nation-building remains a delicate balancing act: enhancing sovereignty and strategic autonomy while avoiding the reproduction of long-standing inequities in regions most affected by federal intervention.
Meeting these challenges will require embedding strategic ambition within governance practices that prioritise transparency, accountability, and genuine partnership. Sustaining good-faith relationships with Indigenous nations, particularly those in the North who bear the immediate consequences of security-framed development, is essential if Canada is to move beyond utilitarian conceptions of the Arctic. While recent developments, such as and , signal federal recognition of Indigenous self-determination, these statutory frameworks remain and , unlike constitutionally entrenched rights. Consequently, Indigenous control over northern resources and infrastructure is not fully secure, leaving communities potentially exposed to decisions driven by national or continental strategic priorities. Extending reconciliation into international circumpolar relations, such as structured nation-to-nation dialogue between Inuit and Sámi communities, would further demonstrate a commitment to Indigenous leadership in shaping the region’s future as Canada deepens strategic and security relationships with Arctic states such as , , and . By grounding national security policy in inclusive, community-informed frameworks, Canada can pursue the infrastructure and defence capabilities required for an uncertain geopolitical era while avoiding the reproduction of historical exclusions and marginalisation that have long defined national development.

The post Building Under Pressure: Security, Infrastructure, and Canada’s Strategic Instinct appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

The separatist Moldovan region of Transnistria has plunged into a humanitarian crisis . The strategically important Kuchurgan thermal power plant is no longer able to supply Moldova with electricity, causing stability to erode and putting Transnistria under economic and humanitarian strain. Although the military risk posed by Russian troops stationed in Transnistria is relatively limited, dependence on energy resources is an important geopolitical tool in Russia’s hybrid warfare. The situation provides Canada with an opportunity to strengthen its economic and political engagement in Eastern Europe, encourage energy diversification policies, and ensure regional stability.

Historical context

The history of the separatist region of Transnistria began in 1940, when the Soviet Union annexed the Romanian region of Bessarabia (now Moldova). In this predominantly Romanian-speaking region; the decision was made to incorporate part of the Ukrainian Soviet Socialist Republic to add a Russian-speaking population to the newly founded Moldavian Soviet Socialist Republic. Located across the Dniester River, this territory was named Transnistria. The aim was to the territory around this new linguistic minority, which would consequently be the centre of the Soviet industrialization process of the Moldovan SSR.

During the USSR’s disintegration, Transnistria declared its independence from Moldova, fearing a weakening of its linguistic rights. Fights broke out between the Moldovan military and Transnistrian forces, supported by the Russian 14th Army stationed in Tiraspol. This conflict when a ceasefire agreement was signed between the parties. This agreement provided for the deployment of Russian and Moldovan troops in Transnistria, which has since become a de facto state benefiting from Russia’s military, political, and economic support.

The 2025 energy crisis

In the current context, Transnistria is an important territory to analyze given Russia’s military presence, as well as Moldova’s intention to move closer to the European Union (EU). Moldova is a strategic priority for Russia, which still sees opportunities to bring the country back into its sphere of influence, and does not hesitate to destabilize the Republic by using various means of political and economic pressure. However, Russia’s military threat to Moldova does not currently count as one of these pressure points. As of 2022, , all of which are lightly equipped solely for the purpose of maintaining the ceasefire. More importantly, there is no naval access nor any airports that could support a high-intensity conflict.

Instead, Moldova’s dependence on Russian energy poses the greatest threat for its security. comes from the Kuchurgan thermal power plant in Transnistria, which runs on Russian gas transmitted via pipelines through Ukraine. While Moldova pays for the gas it accesses through these pipelines, Transnistria receives its supply free of charge. Critically, deliveries to Kuchurgan were halted on January 1, 2025, . Without such gas deliveries, the Transnistrian electricity grid went offline, across the region. by offering Moldova and Transnistria electricity supplies from Romania and financial solutions to diversify its gas supplies, but despite the critical humanitarian situation that was developing. Critical infrastructure could not function without electricity, and . Today, Transnistria produces its electricity from coal, but this remains insufficient compared to previous levels. from a lack of power. Purchasing electricity from Moldova and the EU is essential to support its society, but represents a cost that it has never had to bear before.

The Moldovan energy crisis of 2025 highlights how Russia’s energy policy is intrinsically linked to its foreign policy objectives. While Russia’s ambition to divert Moldova away from European integration is clear, Moldova seems to be resisting. In 2024, and . For Transnistria, the threat is existential, as free deliveries of Russian gas kept Moldova dependent on Russia, justifying Moscow’s investment in Tiraspol. Without this connection, Russia’s political influence over Transnistria is likely to weaken while calls for reunification with Moldova are expected to grow stronger. Indeed, without the possibility of gas deliveries through Ukrainian pipelines and with the closure of the eastern border, Transnistria has no choice but to diversify its trading partners and turn to the EU. However, reunification of Moldovan territory would not mean an end to Russian interference as Moscow intensifies its leading to the exploitation of Russian-speaking minorities beyond its own borders. A scenario similar to the Baltic states remains possible.

Recommendations

While the situation in Moldova may seem distant to Canada, the energy crisis of 2025 represents a key political and economic lesson, as Canada also faces a need to diversify its trading partners.

While energy dependence is now considered a weapon in Russia’s hybrid war against the EU, , mainly for economic reasons but also because of the difficulty of diversifying their trading partners. Canada could become a privileged partner in European energy policy and increasingly replace Europe’s dependence on Russian gas. Doing so would help boost Canada’s own efforts to diversify its trading partners while simultaneously deepening Canada-Europe economic and political relations.

To achieve this goal, it is necessary to develop infrastructure to transport Canadian gas eastward, given that almost all facilities are located on the west coast. The construction of an East-West oil and gas pipeline has previously been met with sharp opposition from , , and across the country for environmental, territorial, and economic reasons. However, in the face of the American threat, the need to diversify trading partners could provide favourable momentum, as recently demonstrated by . Any revival of a cross-country pipeline will have to involve significant consultation and involvement of provinces and First Nations in order to receive both legislative and public approval. If this occurs, Canada could see itself become a much more important partner in helping Europe meet its energy needs.

Version française

La région séparatiste moldave de Transnistrie est plongée dans une crise humanitaire . D’une importance stratégique majeure, la centrale thermique de Kuchurgan n’a plus la capacité de fournir à la Moldavie de l’électricité, si bien que la stabilité s’est érodée et la Transnistrie a été soumise à des pressions économiques et humanitaires. Bien que le risque militaire des troupes russes stationnées en Transnistrie soit relativement limité, la dépendance à l’égard des ressources énergétiques constitue un outil géopolitique important et un outil dans la guerre hybride menée par la Russie. La situation offre au Canada l’occasion de renforcer son engagement économique et politique en Europe de l’Est, d’encourager les politiques de diversification énergétique et d’assurer la stabilité régionale.

Contexte historique

L’histoire de la région séparatiste de Transnistrie débute en 1940, quand l’Union soviétique annexe la région roumaine de la Bessarabie (actuelle Moldavie). Dans cette région majoritairement roumanophone, la décision sera prise d’y incorporer une partie de la République socialiste soviétique ukrainienne afin d’ajouter une population russophone dans la nouvellement fondée République socialiste soviétique moldave, située au-delà du fleuve Dniestr. Ce territoire est nommé Transnistrie. L’objectif était alors le territoire autour de cette nouvelle minorité linguistique, qui sera au centre de la campagne d’industrialisation de la Moldavie soviétique.

Lors de la désintégration de l’Union soviétique, la Transnistrie déclarera son indépendance de la Moldavie sous le motif de crainte d’un affaiblissement de leurs droits linguistiques. Des combats auront lieu entre l’armée moldave et les forces transnistriennes, soutenues par la 14ᵉ armée russe stationnées à Tiraspol, le conflit quand un cessez-le-feu sera signé. Celui-ci prévoit le déploiement de troupes russes et moldaves en Transnistrie, qui devient un État de facto bénéficiant du soutien militaire, politique et économique de la Russie.

Crise énergétique de 2025

Dans le contexte actuel, la Transnistrie est un territoire à surveiller, étant donné la présence militaire russe et les intentions moldaves de se rapproche de l’Union européenne (UE). La Moldavie est une priorité stratégique pour la Russie, qui voit encore ses chances de la faire retomber dans sa zone d’influence et n’hésite pas à provoquer de la déstabilisation dans la république en usant des moyens de pression politiques et économiques. La menace militaire ne fait pas partie de ces moyens de pression. Si, officiellement, la Russie maintient , ces troupes sont légèrement équipées dans l’unique but de maintenir le cessez-le-feu. Il n’y a ni accès naval ni aérien pouvant leur apporter le nécessaire à un conflit de grande intensité.

La vulnérabilité énergétique représente une menace plus importante pour sa sécurité, alors que de la centrale thermique de Kuchurgan, en Transnistrie, et fonctionne au gaz russe livré à travers de pipelines traversant l’Ukraine. Si la Moldavie paye pour ces livraisons, la Transnistrie non. Les livraisons vers Kuchurgan cesseront le 1er janvier 2025 russes à traverser l’Ukraine. Sans ces livraisons de gaz, le réseau électrique Transnistrien est passé hors-ligne, causant des à travers le territoire. L’UE en offrant à la Moldavie et à la Transnistrie des livraisons d’électricité depuis la Roumanie et des solutions financières afin de diversifier ses livraisons de gaz, mais , bien que la situation humanitaire soit critique. Les infrastructures critiques ne pouvaient fonctionner sans électricité e. Aujourd’hui, la Transnistrie produit son électricité grâce au charbon, mais cela reste insuffisant comparativement aux niveaux précédents, d’un manque d’électricité. L’achat d’électricité à la Moldavie et à l’UE est indispensable pour soutenir la société, mais représente un coût qu’elle n’a jamais eu à assumer.

La crise énergétique moldave de 2025 met en lumière comment la politique énergétique de la Russie est intrinsèquement liée à ses objectifs en matière de politique étrangère. Alors que son ambition en Moldavie est affichée — détourner le pays de son intégration européenne —, celle-ci semble résister. En 2024, . Pour la Transnistrie, la menace est existentielle alors que les livraisons gratuites de gaz russe maintenaient la Moldavie dans un état de dépendance vis-à-vis de la Russie, justifiant l’investissement de Moscou à Tiraspol. Un affaiblissement de la présence russe en Transnistrie est probable, tout autant que le scénario d’une réunification. En effet, sans possibilité de livraison de gaz par les pipelines ukrainiens et avec la fermeture de la frontière est, la Transnistrie n’a pas d’autre choix que de diversifier ses partenaires commerciaux et de se tourner vers l’UE. Une réunification du territoire moldave ne signifierait cependant pas la fin de l’ingérence russe, alors que Moscou intensifie sa doctrine de , provoquant l’instrumentalisation des minorités russophones au-delà de ses propres frontières. Un scénario similaire à celui des pays baltes demeure possible.

Recommandations

Si la situation moldave semble lointaine pour le Canada, la crise énergétique de 2025 représente une opportunité politique et économique, alors que nous faisons aussi face à un besoin de diversification de nos partenaires commerciaux.

Alors que la dépendance énergétique est maintenant considérée comme une arme de la guerre hybride de la Russie contre l’UE, , principalement par considérations économiques, mais aussi par difficulté de diversifier les partenaires commerciaux. Le Canada pourrait devenir un partenaire privilégié dans la politique énergétique européenne en proposant une alternative à la dépendance au gaz russe. Un tel projet aiderait le Canada à diversifier ses partenaires commerciaux tout en développant les relations transatlantiques.

Suivant cet objectif, il est nécessaire de développer les infrastructures de transport de gaz canadien vers l’est, alors que la quasi-totalité des installations se trouvent sur la côte ouest. La construction d’oléoducs est-ouest pour le pétrole et le gaz était autrefois reçue avec hostilité par le , et les à travers le pays, invoquant des raisons environnementales, territoriales et économiques. Cependant, devant la menace américaine, le besoin de diversification des partenaires commerciaux pourrait soutenir une Initiative favorable, comme démontré récemment par les au projet. Toute tentative de retour de ce projet devra comprendre une profonde consultation et coopération avec les provinces et les Premières Nations afin de non seulement obtenir l’appui législatif, mais aussi de l’opinion publique. Dans cette optique, le Canada pourrait devenir un partenaire majeur dans la politique énergétique européenne.

The post The 2025 Moldovan energy crisis and the challenges for Europe – La crise énergétique Moldave de 2025 et les défis pour l’Europe appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

The Kyrgyz Republic’s under-digitised public healthcare system presents an emerging vector for foreign digital influence and strategic vulnerability. As China advances its global data ambitions through the Digital Silk Road and affiliated Health Silk Road, Beijing is positioning itself to dominate the digitisation of Kyrgyzstan’s public healthcare system by offering technologies often tied to opaque governance and hidden data extraction risks.��

The health sector, often overlooked in traditional security assessments, contains vast quantities of personal and biometric data. In the absence of competitive alternatives, Kyrgyzstan risks entrenching Chinese digital standards, undermining its data sovereignty —a crucial component of strategic autonomy —and becoming increasingly dependent on authoritarian-aligned technologies.

China’s Digital Expansion and Kyrgyzstan’s Authoritarian Drift

Once viewed as an in post-Soviet Central Asia, the Kyrgyz Republic has taken an increasingly under the regime of President Sadyr Japarov. While domestic drivers underpin this trajectory, China’s has provided essential support (for further context, see: Exporting Surveillance: China’s Authoritarian Blueprint in the Kyrgyz Republic).��

, long considered apolitical and largely removed from most conversations about security and strategic autonomy, is emerging as a new frontier. As Kyrgyzstan its health sector, Beijing has developed attractive and under the banner of the . These are often deployed under non-transparent agreements that provide state-affiliated corporations access to data that can facilitate , , , and of populations.��

Biometric Data and Medical Records: An Overlooked Threat

data refers to unique physiological characteristics used to identify individuals. In the context of healthcare, this includes high-tech identifiers such as facial scans, fingerprints, and retinal patterns, as well as lower-tech data like height, weight, blood type, dental records, menstrual cycles, and handwritten signatures. While this may seem innocuous, when combined with the wider scope of , these figures become inadvertently sensitive.��

For example, menstrual cycle data can signal pregnancy, fertility patterns, and reproductive irregularities, making it highly valuable in contexts where states seek to control reproduction. In China, where population management has historically been enforced through the and, more recently, through the of Uyghur women in Xinjiang, the raises serious security and human rights concerns.��

As Chinese–Kyrgyz relations deepen, particularly through security and technological cooperation involving the increased monitoring and surveillance of Kyrgyzstan’s Uyghur population. This extension of surveillance infrastructure, combined with the digitisation of health data, risks replicating the same reproductive control measures seen in Xinjiang.

Access to a nation’s health records and biometric data also provides information about the population’s demographics, such as death rates, birth rates, and infant mortality. In addition to these historical security concerns about population demographics, this data can also current health risks and disparities, and forecast future health outcomes like disease outbreaks. The potential for misuse makes this information particularly vulnerable in insecure or foreign-controlled digital systems.

Unauthorised access to biometric and health data is a . It can enable foreign actors to monitor populations, coerce political figures, or target dissent. In authoritarian contexts, such data can be weaponised to suppress opposition and influence the behaviour of populations. , while framed as developmental aid, threaten to introduce asymmetric dependencies, data extraction risks, and strategic leverage over host governments.

Without robust safeguards or competitive alternatives, Kyrgyzstan’s adoption of foreign digital infrastructure risks eroding data sovereignty, weakening institutional independence, and embedding long-term vulnerabilities that can be exploited for geopolitical influence.

Healthcare Vulnerabilities��

Kyrgyzstan’s healthcare system, shaped by Soviet-era centralisation, has since independence through reforms and international partnerships. It now delivers both private care through clinics as well as publicly funded universal care. The public sector of healthcare remains underdeveloped and largely paper-based. Digital systems, where they exist, are fragmented, lacking both interoperability and .

This systemic weakness has real-world consequences. During a research visit to Kyrgyzstan in the summer of 2025, I sustained multiple injuries in a mountain biking accident and was treated at Bishkek’s National Hospital. While clinical care was excellent, the lack of digital infrastructure was stark: I had to photograph CT scans and X-rays with my personal smartphone and carry handwritten medical records between appointments. This informal data handling not only complicates care but also demonstrates the demand for the digitisation of Kyrgyz healthcare.

My experience is not unique. From conversations with medical professionals across Kyrgyzstan, diagnostic imaging, lab results, and patient histories are stored in siloed or offline systems with minimal security protocols. These conditions create strategic vulnerabilities, particularly as China offers digital solutions through the Health Silk Road, accompanied by opaque contracts and back-end access provisions.

Policy Recommendation

To mitigate the growing influence of Chinese digital infrastructure and strengthen Kyrgyzstan’s strategic autonomy, Canada should take a proactive role in supporting the digitisation of Kyrgyzstan’s public healthcare system. This sector, which is rich in sensitive personal and biometric data, is increasingly targeted by China through its Digital and Health Silk Road initiatives. By supporting secure, interoperable, and rights-respecting alternatives, Canada can help prevent the entrenchment of authoritarian digital norms and reduce Kyrgyzstan’s dependency on foreign-controlled platforms.

Canada is well-positioned to contribute meaningfully. With in public health, , and , Canada can offer technical support, capacity-building, and policy guidance grounded in transparency and accountability. This effort should align with ongoing multilateral initiatives, such as the , and be framed as part of a broader push to reinforce democratic digital governance in a strategically contested region.

Beyond technical assistance, this is also an opportunity for Canada to repair and reframe its relationship with Kyrgyzstan, particularly in light of the reputational damage caused by the . Supporting the digitisation of Kyrgyzstan’s healthcare system, which is a vital public service that directly affects citizens’ daily lives, would demonstrate Canada’s commitment to inclusive, rights-based development and offer a constructive step forward in strengthening bilateral cooperation. It would also allow Canada to project soft power, build goodwill, and lead by example in a region where democratic engagement is urgently needed to counterbalance rising authoritarian influence.

Conclusion

Kyrgyzstan’s underdeveloped and fragmented digital health infrastructure has created a strategic vacuum which has increasingly been filled by Chinese technologies deployed through the Health Silk Road. While these systems are marketed as development tools, they often come bundled with embedded dependencies that undermine data sovereignty and weaken institutional resilience. In an era where biometric and health data have become strategic assets, the digitisation of public services like healthcare is no longer a purely technical matter. It is now a question of national security and democratic integrity.

Amid China’s expanding digital influence and Russia’s declining regional engagement post-2022, Kyrgyzstan faces a narrowing set of choices. Without meaningful alternatives, it risks entrenching authoritarian-aligned technologies that could shape not only its healthcare system but also its political and civic landscape.

Canada has both the normative interest and the technical capacity to offer an alternative. By supporting the secure, rights-based digitisation of Kyrgyzstan’s healthcare sector, Canada can reinforce democratic digital norms, help safeguard strategic autonomy, and re-engage with a region that has seen limited Canadian involvement since 2021. Such a contribution would signal a shift toward inclusive, citizen-focused development, moving beyond a low-intensity economic relationship, towards a constructive, long-term partnership.

The post Biometrics and the Belt and Road Initiative: Implications for Kyrgyzstan’s Public Health Sector appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

Through the multi-nodal design of the Belt and Road Initiative (BRI), the Chinese state has developed a “” level of structural coercion in the nations of Central Asia. These function as hubs of communication within decentralised networks of information sharing and technological exchange. Such a degree of interconnection is embedded within aspects of “,” a concept which describes how dominant states leverage asymmetric access to global networks (such as trade, finance, or technology) to exert coercive influence over weaker states. Within the CCP’s BRI project, this dynamic enables China to entrench its strategic control while projecting stability under its own terms. The states of Central Asia (Turkmenistan, Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, Tajikistan, and Kyrgyzstan) are growing more susceptible to Beijing’s influence, not only due to proximity and economic dependency but also through the increasing centralisation of technology. China’s broader strategy seeks to export its model of illiberal governance and to implement security-oriented practices, including surveillance, policing, and border control, that reflect a broader process of regional securitisation. 

These efforts are tightly interwoven with economic and technological interdependence, enabling Beijing to through weaponised interdependence. This strategy is met not just with passive acquiescence but with active enthusiasm from domestic actors in the Kyrgyz Republic, where a growing appetite for authoritarian governance provides Beijing with willing partners. Kyrgyzstan’s underrepresentation in Western strategic discourse, despite its geographic proximity to Xinjiang and growing entanglement with Chinese security initiatives, makes it an essential focal point for assessing China’s regional ambitions. While conducting fieldwork in Kyrgyzstan, I encountered firsthand how securitisation and digital surveillance shape movement, access, and everyday life. These experiences inform the analytical lens of this paper and underscore the tangible impact of China’s expanding security architecture in the region. Through weaponised interdependence and a decentralised network of private and state actors, Beijing has embedded itself into the core of Central Asia’s security landscape, with the Kyrgyz Republic offering a compelling case study of how local political dynamics can both enable and amplify China’s authoritarian export model. Ultimately, China’s influence under the Belt and Road framework presents not only an economic opportunity for Central Asia, but a growing risk of entrenched authoritarian governance, regional dependency, and diminished sovereignty.

Structural Coercion Through Multi-Nodal Interdependence

The increasing complication and centralisation of technology has allowed Beijing to emerge as a global leader in the ever-changing technological sector. With this increased complexity and centralisation, Beijing has moved to implement the “” framework, which would see China become the primary global data hub. This hegemony of technology grants the CCP oversight over a wide range of data flows, including cross-border communications, financial transactions, e-commerce logistics, biometric records, and metadata. While not overtly coercive at this stage, this interdependence creates structural asymmetries that China may later exploit as leverage, a dynamic explored in subsequent sections.

Coacting with the multi-nodal structure of the BRI and the growing digitisation and technological dominance, China has established the “” (BRNSIS), which utilises private actors, primarily Chinese private security contractors. These actors primarily assist Chinese embassies in Central Asia with information gathering, accessible to various government institutions through a centralized database. Chinese private security contractors employed by the BRNSIS in gathering intelligence, which is stored in a centralised database accessible across Chinese government ministries, enhancing the state’s ability to coordinate regional surveillance. In addition, growing trade networks with Central Asia have also provided power asymmetries that allow for growing data gathering from individual traders acting as independent nodes. 

Targeting the Uyghur Diaspora: Exporting Securitisation

As China begins consolidating its influence in Central Asia, largely replacing Russia as the regional hegemon post-2022, the diaspora Uyghur population has fallen victim to methodologies of Beijing’s securitisation. are a Turkic Muslim ethnic group indigenous to the Xinjiang Uyghur Autonomous Region in western China. Since 2017, China has faced widespread international condemnation for its of over a million Uyghurs in so-called “reeducation” camps, with some governments, , labelling these policies as genocide. Many Uyghurs have fled persecution and now live in Central Asian countries, where they remain under the surveillance and coercive reach of Chinese security practices. In Uzbekistan, Kazakhstan, and Kyrgyzstan, has been sold to authoritarian regimes to identify political dissidents and protest participants. As this technology becomes increasingly centralised, Chinese intelligence services also gain , which they can use to identify individuals deemed security threats, particularly among the Uyghur diaspora in Central Asia. While Uzbekistan and Kazakhstan possess deeper bilateral relations with China in terms of security, the Kyrgyz Republic, which, along with Kazakhstan, borders the region of Xinjiang, does not possess this same set of relations. However, the Chinese and Kyrgyz states have begun with joint policing exercises directed towards anti-terrorist measures. The lack of formalised security ties suggests that China’s model of regional influence does not rely solely on official agreements. It also operates through ad hoc cooperation, technological penetration, and strategic pressure, especially in states like Kyrgyzstan, where domestic authoritarian appetites are beginning to align with Beijing’s interests.

Kyrgyzstan’s Security Alignment with Beijing Post-2016

Largely influencing this alignment of Kyrgyz domestic security with Chinese regional objectives was the 2016 Chinese embassy bombing in the Kyrgyz capital of Bishkek. In the of the attack, China began rejecting visas to Kyrgyz citizens and applied pressure to the Kyrgyz state to hold the perpetrators accountable and release the information gathered during the investigation. The State Committee on National Security (GKNB) found that it was a targeted committed by the East Turkestan Islamic Movement (), a transnational Uyghur organisation active across Central Asia.

Three years later, in 2019, a new police command centre was established in Bishkek, incorporating the same used in Kazakhstan and Uzbekistan. A protest, which developed into a riot, took place soon after the completion of the police command centre, fueled by Kyrgyz fears over in the nation. Public hostility toward Beijing’s influence was fueled by rising Chinese immigration into the Kyrgyz Republic and reports of in “vocational education training centres” in Xinjiang. 

The SCO, RATS, and Authoritarian Learning

Within the construction of the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO), there is a strong focus on anti-terrorism efforts, emphasised by the pillar of the Regional Anti-Terrorist Structure (RATS). Within the framework of RATS, cooperation across member states to promote is encouraged. In June 2023, Kyrgyz Interior Ministry representatives travelled to Xinjiang for demonstrations , which showcased crowd control and counterterrorism techniques. At the conclusion of the visit, representatives of both countries under which Chinese security officials “will conduct and organise training for (Kyrgyz) employees of police districts adjacent to the border.” As China will gain utility from increased regional cooperation and subsequent codependency, the Kyrgyz delegation, under the growing authoritarianism of the Japarov regime, into building an improved surveillance state. This reflects a domestic openness in Kyrgyzstan to adopt illiberal governance models, revealing a reciprocal dynamic where China’s export of authoritarian practices meets local political appetite, thus enhancing both states’ objectives. According to the Interior Ministry statement, had opportunities “to study new achievements in the digitalization of the Chinese police, to familiarize themselves with the work of the police using unmanned aerial vehicles, to study methods of combating religious extremism … (and) familiarization with the actions and methods and means used by the police during mass riots.” Chinese officials also for the Kyrgyz visitors, demonstrating “the work of a special forces detachment, as well as public order services, and their actions during riots.”

Interaction-2024 and Japarov’s Strategic Calculus

A recent development within RATS is “,” a joint counter-terrorism exercise between China and the states of Central Asia, which involved specialised operations intended to enhance the operational capabilities of member states. In February of 2025, Kyrgyz president Sadyr Japarov visited Beijing for a visit with Chinese president Xi Jinping. Xi Jinping emphasised the historic and geographic between China and the Kyrgyz Republic as well as the rapid growth of bilateral relations in recent years. The Chinese president added that the two sides should continue to explore new ideas, focus on cooperation, and deepen mutually beneficial cooperation. China is willing to continue to expand cooperation and enhance connectivity by continuing construction of the a railway connecting China, Kyrgyzstan, and Uzbekistan. that Kyrgyzstan will continue to protect the of Chinese investors in the country.

Border Control and Securitisation

Demonstrating the expansion of connectivity is the reopening and ongoing development of the border crossing connecting the Kyrgyz settlement of Barskon, located along the south shore of Lake Issyk-Kul, to the region of Xinjiang. The Bedel Pass crossing is the third border district connecting China to Kyrgyzstan, with the other two being the in the Kyrgyz region of Naryn and the in the Osh Region. However, the entirety of the Chinese-Kyrgyz border is along the region of Xinjiang. This contributes to Beijing’s desire to police the regions as many Uyghurs flee and seek refuge in the Kyrgyz Republic, as well as of the East Turkestan Liberation Organisation (ELTO), a secessionist Uyghur organisation training in the border regions of the Kyrgyz Republic. Increased securitisation on the Kyrgyz border side has assumed Xi Jinping’s demands for Kyrgyzstan to “”. Along the entirety of the 1,063-kilometre border between China and Kyrgyzstan, a extending 50 kilometres from the de facto border has been established. To enter the Border Zone, a , which can only be obtained from Kyrgyz authorities, ensuring that only authorised individuals can enter these securitised areas.

Due to the securitisation of the Border Zone, the centralisation of technology and the ongoing digitisation of police activities, I did not travel closer than the village of Chiy-Tala in the Osh Region, located 140 kilometres from the Erkeshtam Pass border crossing.

Domestic Nationalism and Foreign Leverage

However, in the capital of Bishkek, securitisation in the historic Uyghur-run Madina Market can be observed from first-hand accounts and primary sources. During repeated visits to the market throughout my fieldwork, I consistently noted a heightened police presence, which included both uniformed and plainclothed officers. Compared to the two larger markets in the city, Osh Bazaar and Dordoi Bazaar, this visible security presence appeared disproportionate and politically charged. Conversations with Uyghur merchants revealed a sense of anxiety with several vendors speaking cautiously and avoiding political discussions. In contrast, some ethnic Kyrgyz locals I spoke with openly expressed suspicion toward the Uyghur presence in the market. These sentiments reflect how Chinese securitisation narratives, particularly the conflation of Uyghur identity with extremism, have filtered into public discourse, helping to justify increased surveillance and legitimise discriminatory practices in local contexts.

The neo-nationalist Kyrgyz grassroots movement, , has been calling for the from the Madina Market since 2015. While previously Kyrk Choro enjoyed complacency from security officials and state actors in the Kyrgyz Republic, under the populist platform of Sadyr Japarov, the group’s ideology has benefited from presidential policies such as Japarov’s , which aims to protect the “traditions and values of Kyrgyz families” by discriminating against ethnic minorities, rolling back women’s rights, and centralising media and journalism, capturing support from nationalistic and subsequently anti-Uyghur political movements. China’s exportation of illiberal governance aligns with a growing domestic appetite for authoritarianism in Kyrgyzstan, where nationalist movements and political elites actively embrace these models to strengthen their own power. This dynamic grants Kyrgyz actors agency in shaping the country’s authoritarian trajectory, making the relationship with Beijing a mutually reinforcing process rather than a simple external imposition. Official state action reflects domestic nationalist sentiments while simultaneously satisfying China’s desires for stability and securitisation. 

In 2023, the against the founder of the Madina Market, Tursuntai Salimov and his son Ilshan. Tursuntai was also the leader of Ittipak, a Kyrgyz-Uyghur diaspora political organisation advocating for cultural preservation. In 2024, both Tursuntai and Ilshan Salimov were for the laundering of criminal proceeds in the interest of Kamchybek Asanbek’s organised crime group. 

The assets of the Salimov family, including Madina Market, were rapidly transferred to Tarim Trade, a company owned by the son of Khabibula Abdukadyr. Abdukadyr, a close ally of Japarov, had successfully built a trading monopoly which transits . Abdukadyr is also a business partner of a close friend of the president’s son, who , which are an integral part of China’s Belt and Road Initiative.

Conclusion: A New Security Order under Chinese Patronage

By utilising the pre-existing frameworks of the SCO, the infrastructure of the BRI, and the centralisation of technology via the Digital Silk Road, China has constructed a vast and adaptive apparatus of regional surveillance and control and a comprehensive security architecture in the form of the Belt and Road National Security Intelligence System. Through weaponised interdependence and a decentralised network of private and state actors, Beijing has embedded itself into the core of Central Asia’s security landscape. China’s broader strategy seeks to export its model of illiberal governance and practices of securitisation as a means to impose regional stability, thereby facilitating deeper economic engagement and political interaction under Beijing’s terms. Importantly, this approach resonates with domestic actors in Kyrgyzstan, where an existing appetite for illiberalism and nationalist governance provides agency to local elites, enabling them to actively participate in and shape this evolving security architecture. While framed as cooperation or development, the deeper consequence is a significant erosion of regional sovereignty and the externalisation of China’s internal securitisation model. The targeting of Uyghur diaspora communities, the co-optation of nationalist movements, and the strategic transfer of economic assets all underscore the convergence of surveillance, economic control, and authoritarian governance under Beijing’s influence.

As China supplants Russia as Central Asia’s dominant external power, its approach represents not merely a shift in regional geopolitics but a reconfiguration of sovereignty itself, one grounded in digital oversight, security codependence, and authoritarian learning. Without meaningful safeguards or regional pushback, the Belt and Road may no longer be simply a path to economic development but a conduit for asymmetrical control and systemic repression.

The post Exporting Surveillance: China’s Authoritarian Blueprint in the Kyrgyz Republic appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

In August 2025, Armenia, Azerbaijan, and the United States signed a three-way agreement to end the long-standing conflict between the two nations, built upon the preliminary agreements established between Armenia and Azerbaijan in March 2025. The prospective peace deal further includes a clause for the creation of the Trump Route for International Peace and Prosperity (TRIPP), a transport corridor through the Zangezur region. The TRIPP establishes a 99-year partnership granting the U.S. exclusive rights to develop transportation and energy infrastructure within Armenia’s Zangezur corridor to create a new Asia-Europe transit route that bypasses Russia and Iran.

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In one of the most closely contested elections in Polish history, Karol Nawrocki narrowly defeated liberal Warsaw mayor, Rafał Trzaskowski, to secure the Polish presidency on May 18^th, 2025, with 50.9 percent of the vote. The election saw a historic voter turnout of 71.0 percent, signalling a high level of civic engagement across the country. Nawrocki was politically backed by Poland’s Law and Justice party (PiS) – a right-wing populist party that is known to espouse conservative social values, emphasize the importance of national identity and sovereignty, and has overall been associated with ethnonationalist political rhetoric. Over the past two decades, PiS has promoted a vision of Polish identity rooted in traditional Catholic values and cultural norms while otherwise consolidating power through appeals to popular will and skepticism directed at liberal democratic institutions. This ethnonationalist push continues to unfold alongside the pro-European leadership of Prime Minister Donald Tusk, leader of the Polish Civic Platform party (PO), ultimately revealing stark ideological cracks and strategic revisionism taking place at the highest levels of Polish government.

This white paper offers a theoretical examination of Poland’s evolving political and mnemonic landscape leading up to the election of Nawrocki, situating it within broader domestic and regional power shifts and politics. By mnemonic landscape, I am referring to the dynamic field of memory politics through which state and political narratives of the past are constructed, contested, institutionalized, and negotiated within particular political, cultural, and geographical contexts. Mnemonic landscapes encompass the discursive, legal, and affective structures – such as commemorations, memory laws, and judicial rulings – through which states, and civil societies, engage with historical memory within and between states. In hybrid regimes like Poland, the mnemonic landscape is a critical site of governance where national identity, moral authority, and political legitimacy are shaped by competing visions of history and responsibility. I take an interdisciplinary approach in considering the mnemonic and security landscape of Poland, bringing in considerations of critical geography, critical security studies (CSS), International Relations (IR), revisionist history, and transitional justice. In doing so, however, I argue out of the standpoint of a practitioner of care ethics: a feminist approach to morality and issues of justice that foregrounds our relational embeddedness and ethical responsibilities to particular others – near and far – within networks of interdependence and relationality. As Joan Tronto and Berenice Fisher have described, care is a “species of activity that includes everything we do to maintain, continue, and repair ‘our’ world so that we can live in it as well as possible” – a world that includes our bodies, environments, and relationships ().

Situated within this care ethics standpoint, this white paper engages with an interdisciplinary array of research to ultimately suggest that current understandings of democratic backsliding, ethnonationalism, and mnemonic security can and should be re-evaluated through lenses of care. Specifically, it brings the feminist approach of care ethics – understood as a relational, responsibility-oriented approach to morality – into conversation with the study of hybrid regimes and the politics of memory. By emphasizing the ethics of care as a framework for action and practice, my approach aims to highlight how state-led mnemonic governance is not only a discursive construction or juridical phenomenon, but one that materially shapes the conditions of relationality, recognition and moral responsibility for the past, present, and future within and across national borders. In contexts like Poland and Ukraine, where historical memory is increasingly instrumentalized to consolidate political power and produce moralized national narratives, I believe care ethics offers an approach that is attentive to how narratives of the past shape present realities and common futures, while also offering more dialogical, reparative, and relational approaches to justice, recovery, and the building of democracy.

This white paper begins by tracing Poland’s post-Socialist trajectory, which, despite early democratic gains, has increasingly exhibited the characteristics of a hybrid regime – defined by the legal façade of democratic institutions and checks-and-balances while consolidating executive power and a moralized national identity. Central to this trajectory, I aim to show, is the rise of ethnonationalist governance, in which appeals to national memory and identity are politicized to legitimate reforms, rollback of human rights, marginalize dissent, and assert cultural homogeneity – particularly through what are often termed “memory laws” and the instrumentalization of institutions like the Constitutional Tribunal.

Section two narrows its focus upon the structure of the Polish judiciary to consider how it is not only a battleground of democratic backsliding but can be understood as a site where moralized authoritarianism is taking shape via affective governance and a narrowed jurisprudential and juridical horizon. As readers will see, ethnonationalist populists have leveraged affective appeals – rooted in moral symbolism, national identity, and historical memory – to cultivate civic trust in partisan institutions while redirecting trust outward toward supranational actors like the European Union (EU). Section three then shifts to also consider the ongoing war in Ukraine, examining how Russia’s invasion has affected mnemonic and geopolitical alliances, intensified nationalist sentiment and movements, and produced new pressures for regional solidarity, particularly within the EU and NATO. Finally, I conclude with a reflection on the evolving dynamics of Polish-Ukrainian memory politics in the shadow of Russia’s own. In reference to the Volyn tragedy, I suggest the epistemic tools and approaches of care ethics offer diplomatic audiences and broader global civil society the opportunity to transition away from rigid, juridical models of justice and moral responsibility towards those of a more dialogical and collaborative nature, including practices of mnemonic rapprochement.

Polish Party Politics: PiS, PO, and the Fractures within the Polish Electorate

Since the fall of socialist rule in 1989, Poland has undergone a multi-stage process of democratic transition. In studies of political science and IR, this is commonly referred to as a process of democratization – a political transformation in which a non-democratic state (oftentimes, authoritarian in character) regime transitions into a democratic one via the institutionalization of democratic norms and principles, including free and fair elections, separation of powers, the rule of law, and practices of political pluralism ().

Soviet troops did not officially leave Polish soil until 1993, and though it is often understood as the end to a broader era of Soviet-style occupation (Mishtal, 2015), the process of democratization nonetheless took root in Polish society through a peaceful dismantling of the social system in favour of a nascent, pluralist democracy. – a grassroots and intellectual movement facilitated largely by Polish labourers and intellectuals – played a foundational role in this transition, helping to contribute to the establishment of democratic norms and institutions in Polish civil society (). By the mid- to late-1990s, significant structural reforms had begun, including constitutional amendments, capitalist market liberalization, and institutionalization of free and fair elections, to “return” Poland to Europe. While political party fragmentation and political instability remained, these early years nonetheless laid an important foundation of democratic architecture.

Party politics continued to take shape into the early 2000s and the Polish Civic Platform (PO), along with the Law and Justice (PiS) party, emerged as influential parties in an otherwise pluralistic party system. As PO and PiS largely came to dominate the public discourse and party system, it became evident that social forces beyond democracy were beginning to shape the contours of governance in Poland. Poland’s accession to the European Union (EU) in 2004 consolidated its democratic transformation and was ultimately marked by broad public support, as . A review of literature and public attitudes at the time, however, reveals how much of this enthusiasm stemmed from promises of economic growth and prosperity for everyday Poles by Polish elite (; ; 2002;  ; ; ; ; ; ; Duch, 2017; ; ; ). Despite broad support, EU accession also brought to the surface bubbling tensions around issues of national identity, religion, the family, and the perception of Brussels’ influence over domestic law.

As skepticism of Brussels’ influence over Polish civil society deepened, nationalist and populist narratives gained traction, many of them rooted in the unresolved and unrecognized memory politics of the Soviet era following World War II. As political scientist Maria Malksoo highlights, Poland – like many other post-socialist Eastern European countries – has long navigated what has felt to be a contradictory position; since 1991, Poland and the Baltic states have taken up a curious post-Cold War foreign policy strategy consisting of a “combination of simultaneously seeking recognition from and exercising resistance to the hegemonic ‘core European’ narrative of what ‘Europe’ is all about” (). This in-between position was mirrored in domestic politics, as fragmentation of the centre-right – itself a product of unresolved symbolic struggles inherited from the Solidarity era – created a political vacuum into which more hardline actors like PiS could consolidate power (). Fusing social conservatism with populist anti-elitism, PiS successfully recast national history as a tool of political legitimation and portrayed themselves as guardians of Polish sovereignty and identity against alleged liberal decadence and supranational control. The party pendulum would swing between PO and PiS from 2005 to 2015, before PiS eventually clinched a majority government in 2015, bringing with it a wave of political and institutional reforms that shook the democratic foundation of Poland.

, every Polish President and Prime Minister who has assumed office has been a member of PiS or PO and since 2015, PiS has implemented a series of structural reforms that have significantly undermined Polish democratic institutions and norms. These include asserting political control over the judiciary by , creating newfound , and an overall – prompting EU criticism for violating rule-of-law standards. PiS also , , and , a relationship which some scholars . Poles voiced their dissatisfaction through the parliamentary elections in 2023, wherein the newly elected PO government under Donald Tusk to restore judicial independence, repair democratic institutions, and realign Poland with EU values. While Tusk’s pro-EU administration has made efforts to reverse PiS-era reforms, progress remains contested and slow, particularly as PiS continues to control the presidency and other key state institutions (; ; ). Nawrocki’s presidency, therefore, may mark a continuation of the broader institutional to-and-fro now largely characterizing Poland’s democratic landscape; as Polish media has reported, the 2025 presidential election “” the Polish electorate. Although Nawrocki ran as an independent, his campaign was institutionally backed by PiS, due in large part to Nawrocki’s own alignment with the party’s brand of hyperconservative nationalism, populism, and strategic invocation of memory politics. On Friday, June 20, 2025, Prime Minister Donald Tusk called for an electoral recount, citing the narrow results: “[.” Just days later, Tusk faced leadership challenges of his own, narrowly surviving by a margin of 239 to 210, and while the outcome of the vote reaffirms the Tusk government’s mandate, it also laid bare the deepening polarization now marking Poland’s institutions – possibly foreshadowing further political friction in the months and years ahead.

In recent years, scholars reflecting upon Poland’s democratic backsliding have used a variety of terms to describe this transition; for the purpose of this article, it is easiest to understand Poland as a “hybrid regime.” Hybrid regimes, are largely characterized by the “skilful construction of a façade of democratic and rule-of-law standards.” This façade enables the consolidation of executive power while maintaining an effective veneer of constitutional legitimacy that satisfies minimal international obligations and rhetorical legitimacy at home (Kubińska and Luining, 2024). In Poland, this has been facilitated largely through the politicization of the Constitutional Tribunal (CT), along with the legal regulation of historical memory via what are commonly referred to as “memory laws” – both of which have been instrumental in constructing a hybrid regime under the guise of defending Polish identity, sovereignty, and “mnemonic security.”

In the simplest of terms, memory laws refer to the legislative acts and practices that institutionalize particular narratives of historical events, figures, and/or movements. Over the last ten to fifteen years, memory laws have proliferated throughout much of Eastern Europe, in large part a response to what scholars have called “mnemonic wars” – symbolic and increasingly, kinetic battles, over whose version of the past will shape present-day statehood, identity, and international status (; ; ). In the case of Poland, and its neighbour Ukraine, these confrontations evoke a sense of being caught between a rock and a hard place – trapped between conflicting, if not rivalrous, historical imaginations and political expectations of the past, present, and future world order.

The West and Russia each offer respective tales regarding the historical tenure of their state projects; in the West, the initial introduction of memory laws swept through Germany, France, and the rest of Western Europe in the 1990s, largely in an attempt to recognize the horrors of the Holocaust and to prevent such horrors from ever taking place again. While differentiating itself from the collapsed Soviet regime was not an explicitly stated goal by the West, such a result was nonetheless achieved. In contrast, Russia has demonstrated what has been described as “mnemonical positionalism”– that is, a strategy in which so-called “official” (state-based) memory is invoked to stabilize national identity, uphold power status, and justify overall international behaviour – be it benign or violent – under the guise of protecting historical truth (). In the Russian case, this most often takes place through the invocation of the so-called “Great Patriotic War,” (Великая Отечественная Война), delimiting the period of 1941-1945 (rather than 1939-1945) in order to divert attention away from the that resulted in the invasion and occupation of Poland.

It is thus in response to these competing memory orders that structure Europe’s broader socio-political fabric that Central and Eastern European (CEE) states, including Poland and Ukraine, invoke their own version of memory politics and mnemonic security narratives. As ) argues, memory orders are hierarchically structured regimes of historical representation that shape how state identities are recognized by others, evaluated bilaterally and multilaterally, and either recognized, validated, or marginalized within global civil society. Within this context, Poland and Ukraine seek to not only confront and challenge dominant mnemonic narratives – particularly those by Russia, who in many ways still perceives itself as the “continuator state” of the Soviet Union (USSR) (Malksoo, 2021) – but to also reassert themselves within the broader European memory order that continues to largely be shaped by (albeit, at times, reductive) narratives of historical justice and liberal-democratic identities. In Poland, a project of mnemonic revisionism has taken place in more recent years – particularly under PiS governance – where state actors have sought “to change elements of the current international memory order, including internal stratification” (Malksoo, 2021). In contrast, Ukraine’s own memory politics have largely been leveraged in support of a project of mnemonical self-emancipation – wherein an actor seeks to enter the global memory order “as a sovereign actor in the first instance in order to improve its international standing” (Malksoo, 2021). Since Russia’s invasion, this project of mnemonic self-emancipation has only accelerated and diversified (Malksoo, 2021).

Memory politics – and more specifically, modes of mnemonic security and governance – have a unique relationship with the law. Through a process of what originally identified as “juridification,” which refers to both “legal regulation of new areas, with conflicts and problems increasingly being framed as legal claims, and penetration of judicial ways of thinking and acting into new fields” (), memory is institutionalized through top-down legal mechanisms that work to consolidate partial, situated historical interpretations into fixed, unalterable and uncontestable truths (). As Nancy Hartsock and other critical epistemologists have argued, all truths are partial, emerging from the contextual, embodied standpoint one occupies; the juridification of historical memory, in this way, often disguises these contingent narratives as universal. Such an understanding of juridification opens the way for Bucholc’s (2022) critical account of commemorative lawmaking, which interrogates how political actors opportunistically assemble and manipulate a group or nation’s collective memory to consolidate power and authority.

Bucholc’s (2022) concept of commemorative lawmaking demonstrates how the process of juridification not only refers to the institutionalization of explicit memory laws but to the embedded, symbolic, and rhetorical dimensions of legal practices. Informed by Claude Levi-Strauss’s concept of ‘bricolage,’ Bucholc (2022) suggests that political actors engaging in commemorative lawmaking should be understood as bricoleurs, that is, as actors who are charged with selectively assembling fragments of collective memory into new legal and narrative configurations that serve present political needs and interests. Legal codes are crafted in pursuit of a coherent and universal truth; they are not, Bucholc highlights, engaged and reached through a process of dialogic collaboration: “A bricoleur does not act in compliance with any preconceived set of rules: she puts pre-existing items – things, signs, symbols, thoughts, ideas, and thinking patterns – together in new ways, putting them to any use as the current need dictates. A bricoleur is, by definition, an opportunist” (Bucholc, 2022). In this way, memory laws work in tandem with commemorative lawmaking, as laws are transformed into “means of memory politics by relating them to a certain memory apart from the normative content of the law and references to memory in the lawmaking process.” Bricolage is only one strategy through which commemorative lawmaking takes place; Bucholc suggests that strategies of “retouching,” which endow a particular person, event, idea, or institution with a confluence of meaning in order to “retouch” the figure or event in an “act of fairness and restoration of historical justice,” and “restylization,” which lends credibility and an “impression of communality” to bricolage and retouch, also support the practices of commemorative lawmaking. Together, these strategies have been increasingly employed by bricoleurs of a populist and ethnonationalist sentiment in both the Polish and Russian contexts; indeed, research in recent years has begun to take note of the intersubjective nature of Ukraine’s, Poland’s, and Russia’s mnemonic governance in the CEE region (Koposov, 2022;).

In Poland, the invocation of memory politics and practices of commemorative governance have been utilized by PiS since the early 2000s. In the case of PiS, such practices have not only served to protect against so-called external influence or manipulation of the EU but have also been effectively mobilized as a tool for internal consolidation of power via the intersubjective cultivation of civic trust. As Kubinska and Luining (2024) highlight, trust in hybrid regimes is incredibly malleable and contingent in the hands of populist state officials, who in many ways re-mould democratic institutions and norms to sustain a partisan, moral narrative that suits its project. This is especially evident, I argue, through the PiS’s transformation of its Constitutional Tribunal (CT) and broader attack on judicial independence.

Rather than treating trust as a shared, institutional responsibility, PiS is similar to other populist parties in its adoption of a political strategy of affective governance – by affective, I am referring to the strategies that target emotion, identity, and moral symbolism among a populace or community and simultaneously mobilized to cultivate a particular, often narrowed form of civic trust that ultimately upholds the moral and political order such a party desires to create. In cultivating this civic trust, PiS constructs a vision of the CT not as a neutral arbiter, but as a guardian of national Polish values. This framing taps into the affective reservoir of Poland’s collective political memory, wherein the CT was historically regarded as a crucial safeguard against Soviet influence and a pillar of Poland’s democratic transition from socialist rule after 1989 (Mishtal, 2015).

At the same time, civic trust is cultivated, distrust is strategically redirected outward, particularly toward supranational institutions like the EU and European Court of Justice. In “early-forming-hybrid regimes,” this intersubjective construction of trust and distrust is meant to capitalize on citizens’ discontent with democracy and channel pre-existing skepticism of rule-of-law institutions (Kabinska and Luining 2024) into a relation that enables the capture of democratic institutions, all while maintaining a façade of democratic legitimacy.

 Interestingly, Kubinska and Luining are also among a growing collective of scholars who have recognized Poland’s 2020 abortion ruling – which effectively rendered abortion illegal in cases of fetal abnormality or life-threatening illness – as the critical point at which constitutional capture of the CT had succeeded. By signalling successful constitutional capture, the Tribunal can now be understood to operate within what Bucholc has described as a “narrowed jurisprudential horizon” – that is, a shrinking of the spaces in which law is interpreted, debated, and trusted as the legitimate sphere of democratic dialogue. According to Bucholc, a nation’s jurisprudential horizon structures the expectations and symbolic limits of what the law is to do and not to do; while a narrowing of the horizon does not necessarily equate a rollback of rights, in the case of Poland, it suggests that constitutionalism has been reoriented away from democracy’s pluralist foundations and towards what I describe as “moralized authoritarianism,” wherein a single moral worldview is privileged and institutionalized through top-down legal and political mechanisms that shape civil society and consequently, subject identities, foreclosing the space for democratic dialogue and pluralist legal reasoning. Under a regime or structure of moralized authoritarianism, memory laws can be understood to operate as disciplinary technologies that attempt to regulate public discourse and historical consciousness (Foucault, 1977). In a Foucauldian sense, they function not only to prohibit or punish, but to produce – authorizing a singular moral “truth” or narrative while otherwise rendering alternative or competing narratives “unintelligible” () within the bounds of legal reason. In doing so, they shape not only what can be said about the past, but also who can be recognized as a legitimate subject of history and politics, aligning individual and collective identities within the state’s moral order.

It is against this legal, political, and mnemonic backdrop that Karol Nawrocki’s 2025 presidential victory ushers in a new phase of uncertainty for Poland’s democratic future and its broader role within the EU and the rules-based international order. While formally running as an independent, Nawrocki’s support and subsequent alignment with PiS – along with his previous leadership role at the Institute of National Remembrance (IPN) – signals, I suggest, a likely continuation, if not intensification, of memory-based governance. Nawrocki’s presidency also arrives at a critical geopolitical juncture: Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine has not only destabilized the broader European security landscape by returning war to Europe, but also exposed the cracks forming in the transatlantic alliance – particularly amid wavering American commitments to Ukraine and . In this context, the narratives Poland chooses to advance through law and public discourse – especially in relation to Ukraine and broader European security – carry heightened significance and worry. Central among these mnemonic tensions is the enduring legacy of the Volyn tragedy, a case of historical memory that continues to strain Polish-Ukrainian relations. Nawrocki’s presidency thus raises further questions about whether Poland will advance efforts towards historical reconciliation or return to a more ethnonationalist mnemonic posture – one that treats history as a moral battleground rather than a space for pluralistic dialogue aimed at reaching intersubjective truths.

The Moral Relationship between Poland, Ukraine, and Russia

Despite the concerted efforts of democratic peace theorists (eg. Bruce Russett; John O’Neal; Michael Doyle), empirical evidence linking war and democracy remains both contested and limited (). Despite this contested relationship, it can nonetheless be argued that war acts as an exogenous shock to a nation, often marking a “turning point” within the broader international security arena (). Keeping in mind that democratic backsliding is not so much a radical departure from democratic norms, but rather the “irregular series of incremental actions resulting in a diminished form of democracy,” it is pertinent to consider how both the fatigue and fog of war may deepen or exacerbate issues of moral reasoning, civic trust, and mnemonic security.
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At the time of writing, Poland currently stands as the second-largest recipient of Ukrainian refugees since Russia’s full-scale invasion began in 2022, second only to Germany. And while an approximate 994,180 Ukrainians currently reside in Poland as the war wages on, it is estimated that over 26 million border crossings have been formally registered from Ukraine to Poland (and 24 million from Poland to Ukraine) since 2022 (). Many refugees to Ukraine for medical treatment, property maintenance, to maintain family ties, or to collect essential paperwork necessary for their stay in Poland. Additionally, sustaining essential cross-border travel has become increasingly difficult for many Ukrainian refugees in Poland: , the number of individuals encountering difficulties after returning from short visits home to Ukraine has risen sharply – nearly tripling over the past year. From losing legal protection and access to social support, to facing increasing uncertainty when attempting to re-enter, the UNHCR highlights Poland as an especially difficult context where these burdens are felt most acutely – underscoring how prolonged displacement is straining not only those forced from their homes, but on the systems and networks meant to sustain them.
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Since 2005, Ukrainians have been officially recognized as a national minority in Poland. Following Russia’s annexation of Crimea in 2014, migration from Ukraine to Poland increased significantly, though most arrivals during this period were labourers and their families seeking improved living and working conditions. By 2021, census data recorded just over 80,000 Ukrainians residing in Poland. When Russia first launched its full-scale invasion of Ukraine in 2022, the Polish public quickly mobilized as they became a primary entry point for those fleeing Russian aggression (). Official public statements were offered quickly by Polish officials; Prime Minister Donald Tusk, in his latter ascension to power, was similarly clear in his support of Ukraine: “I am not ashamed to use these big words: it is here, in Ukraine, .”
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On the ground, the practical burden of refugee assistance and support was largely shouldered by everyday Poles. As documented in After the Solidarity Wave, the Polish state had “no policies, strategies, capacities or resources to meet the rapidly unfolding situation,” leaving volunteers and grassroots networks to fill the void (). confirming the presence of nearly two hundred thousand Russian troops amassing along Ukraine’s borders, the shock expressed by global leaders and institutions underscores a broader failure of foresight and strategic judgment by both Russia and the West: the latter had in the name of mnemonic security, while the former had largely overdetermined its military . In the wake of this aggression, Polish civil society emerged as a de facto hub for displaced Ukrainians, offering critical support including medical services, housing, transportation, childcare, and other vital forms of humanitarian aid.
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This surge of civic solidarity, however, is not without its limits. As the war grinds into its fourth year, so too has a growing sense of collective exhaustion for Poles and Ukrainians alike – a phenomenon that can be understood as the . Combined with increasing economic pressures and policy inaction, this fatigue is at risk of being exploited by ethno-populist nationalists in both states, wherein some political figures ��“whitewash the history of their countries persistently, forming a new type of memory laws that primarily shifts the blame for historical injustice to other states, [while also trying] to promote their own national narratives into the mnemonic space of the EU” (). In this climate, Nawrocki’s presidential win may not only be a product of this growing war fatigue, but also the simultaneous enactment of what can be described as ethnopopulist mnemonic governance. And while his “Poland first, Poles first” rhetoric may appear to echo the familiar tropes of some Western populists, it nonetheless draws from a distinct and historically-charged well of Polish and Ukrainian collective memory – one steeped in entangled pasts, wartime trauma, and contested narratives of gratitude and grievance, of falsity and truth.

The Volyn Tragedy (ie. The Volyn Massacre; the Volhynia Massacre; the Volyn genocide) functions today as one such space of mnemonic contestation and construction – a flashpoint where the politics of memory, security, and national identity collide. Nawrocki is one of several Polish politicians who regard Volyn as a case of ethnic cleansing and clear moral injury against the Polish people; indeed, as : “No such crime can be silenced or omitted. It should not remain without moral judgment and condemnation, which I why we observe the National Day of Remembrance of Victims of Genocide by Ukrainian nationalists against Poles during World War II.”
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In contrast, Ukrainian recollections of the violence of Volyn are marked by fragmentation, ambivalence, and deep entanglements with legacies of imperial and colonial violence. Between 1939 and 1941, following the infamous Molotov-Ribbentrop Pact, Eastern Galicia and Volhynia – territories that had been a part of the Second Polish Republic – were forcibly annexed by the Soviet Union. Initial reflections offered by Volodymyr Kubijovyč[1] suggested that the Red Army was “greeted sometimes with genuine joy” upon entering Poland by Western Ukrainian villagers (Kubijovyč 1963), but revisionist history highlights a broader sentiment of skepticism met their arrival, largely fueled by their own historical experience with imperial and great power violence:
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Ukraine’s modern inhabitants are fiercely attached to their land… However, since the plain has always been the playground of power politics, the Ukrainians have rarely been allowed to control their destiny. In the twentieth century, they were repeatedly suppressed. Their short-lived Republic, which in 1918-20 served as one of the main battlegrounds for Russia’s Reds and Whites, was crushed by the victorious Red Army. They were victims of some of the Continent’s most terrible man-made disasters, and of wholesale genocide. Their casualties during the wars of 1918-2, the collectivization campaign of the 1930s, the terror-famine of 1932-3, and the devastations of the Second World War must have approached 20 million. Some among them, frustrated by their impotence in face of Russians, Poles, and Germans, and unable to reach the source of their oppression, stuck out in desperate violence against their neighbours (Davies 1996).
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The annexation of eastern Galicia and Volhynia was accompanied by a subsequent dissolution of local institutions, widespread arrest and execution of Polish elite and intelligentsia, and the forced deportation of over a million people from the region by the Red Army, including Poles, Jews, and Ukrainians, largely to Siberia and Central Asia. In this way, the Nazi and Soviet occupations of Poland introduced increasingly violent regimes of social engineering, wherein the existing socio-political order and state structure was dismantled, interethnic distrust was sowed, and suppression of Polish and Ukrainian resistance carried out.
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The cumulative disintegration of political and social order in Eastern Galicia and Volhynia – brought on by successive occupations, mass deportations, and competing imperial ambitions – laid the groundwork for the further interethnic violence that followed. From roughly 1943 to 1945, the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) and its armed wing, the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), carried out a coordinated campaign of ethnic cleansing against the Polish population of Volhynia and Eastern Galicia. Attacks were described as especially brutal, with entire villages razed and civilians – including women, children, and the elderly – killed en masse. It is estimated that between 40,000 to 60,000 Poles were killed in Volhynia alone (Scott, 2009; 6); an additional 20,000 are estimated to have been killed in Eastern Galicia (Motyka, 2006).
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Though the OUN-UPA initially formed to resist both the Nazi and Soviet domination of the WW2 era, their campaign against the Polish population was nonetheless guided by an ethnonationalist vision of an independent Ukraine in the future – one free from perceived foreign interference and occupation. This vision was tied to a deeply held cultural attachment and historical belief that Eastern Galicia and Volhynia were Ukrainian land, of which had been subsequently subjected to policies of ‘Polonization’ under the Second Polish Republic. Thus, many Ukrainian nationalists at the time perceived the interwar (1918-1939) Polish state as a colonial power suppressing Ukrainian ways of life and knowing, further fueling intergroup dynamics of dispossession, grievance, and discord. In this context, territorial reclamation through violent means was not only perceived as strategic, but as a moral and historical righting of wrongs. As the Polish underground responded with retaliatory violence, including through later so-called “reprisal raids,” the region descended into a contained conflict spiral that has left permanent scars on the Polish-Ukrainian consciousness. Such a spiral did not reach its formal end until 1947, following the end of World War II, the Yalta and Potsdam agreements, and Operation Vistula (1947).
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Internal UPA documents and subsequent historical accounts have pointed to an explicit strategy to “remove the Polish element from Ukrainian lands,” a pursuit that, while perceived by some as rectification of colonial subjugation, raises critical questions about how moral reasoning and justification is constructed, understood, and operationalized as it relates to conflict. Traditionally, such justifications have often relied upon what Margaret Urban Walker has termed a “theoretical-juridical model” of moral reasoning – a mode or framework that treats morality as a universally applicable, abstract system of codified principles that can be applied to issues or conflicts of morality as they emerge (Walker 2007). In such a framework, moral knowledge is imagined as separate from the lived realities of social life, accessible without empirical inquiry or mutualistic dialogue, and enforceable through juridical institutions that claim impartiality and moral clarity. As Walker notes, this model “typically universalizes and homogenizes ‘the’ moral point of view or position of ‘the’ moral agent, and traffics in claims of ‘our’ concept of responsibility, sense of justice, institutions, or obligations” (Walker 2007).
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In the cases of Poland and Ukraine, ethnonationalist and populist narratives of mnemonic security in each respective hybrid regime have relied on a theoretical-juridical model of morality that ultimately “shrinks morality down to a kind of purified core of purely moral knowledge” (). This is felt most acutely in continued negotiations surrounding Volyn, where moral claims of historical injustice – be it assignments of responsibility, blame, or victimhood – are approached not in terms of mutual engagement and dialogue, but as fixed positions in a zero-sum moral quest. Yet, in light of renewed geopolitical urgency – marked by Russia’s full-scale invasion and Ukraine’s ascension to the EU – there is a growing imperative for both states to engage in strategic forms of mnemonic rapprochement. Such a shift will require more than the usual practices of diplomacy; it calls for a reorientation away from the familiar theoretical-juridical pursuit of moral closure toward approaches and practices more attuned to the intersubjective and dialogical nature of memory and responsibility.

Conclusion and a Path Forward

The memory of Volyn resists easy moral categorization; as Walker’s critique reminds, however, narratives as it relates to issues of morality and moral conflict are rarely, if ever, neutral. On the contrary, “our” sense of justice and responsibility is always embedded in the institutions, contexts, and power structures from which we arise, speak, and resonate within. Poland and Ukraine’s future navigation of the Volyn tragedy under a new Nawrocki presidency is likely to encounter serious challenges, as it stands to not only be a question of historical (in)justice and truth, but of resisting the overall flattening effects of mnemonic governance,[2] which recasts remembrance as a contest of moral dominance and certainty rather than a shared pursuit of pluralistic dialogue and ethical negotiation.
 
Flattening of mnemonic space works in favour of those wishing to benefit off the fog of war, which in this case, refers not only to the uncertainties and fatigue endured on the frontlines and battlefield, but the dizzying and obscuring effects of prolonged conflict and occupation on mnemonic processes and diplomatic negotiation themselves. Under these conditions, history becomes increasingly difficult to interpret in good faith: complexity risks giving way to urgency, nuance risks being eclipsed by desires for nationalist clarity, and pluralistic moral reckonings are exchanged in favour of singular, homogeneous state narratives. Political actors – may they be Nawrocki, or other foreign revisionist elite from Russia – can exploit such a political climate by engaging in ethnonationalist narratives of mnemonic security based out of the reductive theoretical-juridical model, which works in their favour by suppressing dissenting histories, voices, and foreclosing opportunities for reconciliation. Such an approach also aids in further entrenching division, recasting of victimhood, or absolving responsibility. In doing so, a discursive passing of the buck takes place, one which ultimately benefits aggressors, revisionists, or rising powers.
 
The theoretical-juridical model serves to reinforce mnemonic practices and processes of ethnonationalist governance by attempting to guarantee “uniformity in judgment and action both across cases and across agents, and [give] priority to the sameness and repeatability by regimenting moral consideration into fixed paths” (Walker 2007). In hybrid regimes such as Poland, the window through which these mnemonic practices and processes of governance are adjudicated has narrowed; on the other hand, at the time of this writing, President Zelenskyy’s move to sign a bill that effectively erodes the independence of Ukraine’s National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU) and the Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO) stands to construct a similarly reductive horizon as it relates to the jurisprudential and juridical practices within the country’s anti-corruption infrastructure. Such a narrowing, Bucholc reminds us, is a reflection of a state’s retreat from international legal interdependence – a rejection or circumvention of the shared foundations of the rule of law in favour of sovereign self-containment and self-referential legalism. In these cases, jurisprudence becomes a flattened and narrowed space, and when entangled with mnemonic processes and practices of governance (ethnonationalist or otherwise), works to consolidate state narratives that ultimately foreclose the space and opportunities for mutual intelligibility and pluralistic dialogue. And it is precisely here where Walker’s critique of the theoretical-juridical model comes to be especially relevant: by institutionalizing rigid paths of moral judgment and attempting to enforce epistemic (ideological) sameness across agents, it not only obscures the moral complexity of nuanced tragedies like Volyn, but when applied in such social-political and institutional settings, risk becoming bureaucratic and authoritarian (Walker 2007). 
 
In light of Russia’s continued invasion of Ukraine and Ukraine’s wishes to join the EU, I have argued that a strategy of mnemonic rapprochement may need to take place between Poland and Ukraine. By mnemonic rapprochement, I am referring to the formation of a deliberate, dialogic process through which states work to reconcile conflicting narratives of shared and intersecting pasts – not by imposing a moral consensus from the top-down, but through the creation of a space where mutual recognition and intelligibility, differentiated memory, and pluralistic dialogue may take place. Such a process not only resists the flattening impulses of ethnonationalist memory politics but aligns well with what Walker has termed an “expressive-collaborative” framework for morality and moral thinking.
 
According to Walker, an expressive-collaborative framework of moral navigation reframes ethical judgment in the pursuit of justice as something grounded not in abstract moral principles and rules, but in lived, ongoing relationships that are negotiated, in constant flow, and transcend borders (Walker 2007). In this way, such a model captures the socio-political, interpersonal, and intersubjective features of morality that are left obscured by theoretical-juridical approaches. As Walker writes,
 
It permits us to know for what and to whom we will have to account when we have done or failed to do something, and what makes sense as a moral reason or excuse. It equips us to reckon failures and derelictions, to understand what can be repaired and what compensated, to assess the costs of choices in morality’s own currencies of integrity and appropriate trust… In doing so it makes us responsible to ourselves and others for the moral sense our lives make (Walker 2007).
 
Practically speaking, this approach is one that entails attending to relationships of accountability, responsibility, and trust as they are embedded in particular histories and institutions. Rather than codifying universal judgments, this model embraces dialogic processes where responsibilities are distributed, acknowledged, and negotiated across time, space, and agents. It asks critical questions: Who has been wronged? Who must respond? What does repair look like in this given context? In the mnemonic sphere, this may involve commemorations, recognition of differentiated memory, and cooperative truth-telling and truth-seeking processes that resist singular state narratives and instead foster mutual intelligibility. Ultimately, the goal is to work towards a shared future in which the historical past is not only recognized but actively engaged with as a site of mutual reckoning, ethical dialogue, and collective responsibility.
 
This brief has provided a modest overview of Poland’s democratic trajectory following the relatively peaceful collapse of the Soviet Union and broader socialist system. It highlights how in the Polish case, a democratic to-and-fro has taken place, largely between the PO and PiS parties. Under the PiS-led government, ethnonationalist governance has resulted in a narrowing of the juridical and jurisprudential horizon – a phenomenon which has not only contributed to the fallback of human rights and reproductive justice, but pushed the national needle towards moralized authoritarianism, in which a single worldview is privileged and institutionalized through top-down legal and political mechanisms, foreclosing the space for legalistic and democratic dialogue with others.
 
The foreclosing of the jurisprudential and juridical horizon is best understood as the result of a larger process of ethnonationalist and populist mnemonic governance; by leveraging a particularly reductive, top-down view of collective memory, PiS has sought to institutionalize a homogeneous and moralized narrative of history that legitimizes current political authority and control, restricts legal pluralism, and otherwise attempt to exclude those who do not wish to conform to the national script. Ukraine, on the other hand, encounters different but relational challenges of mnemonic governance within its own territory; while it strives to maintain political alliance with Poland and join the EU, it must also balance national politics of memory in such a way that reinforces its ontological security in the face of Russian aggression without alienating key allies like Poland – an increasingly complex task that may require strategic mnemonic rapprochement.
 
I have suggested that the Volyn tragedy stands as one such historic case wherein collaborative and strategic mnemonic rapprochement between Poland and Ukraine may need to take place. However, I have also argued that the dominant framework often used to approach such moments of moral and historical reckoning – what Walker refers to as the theoretical-juridical approach – is ill-suited to the complex context of Polish-Ukrainian dialogue over Volyn. This model, grounded in abstract universalism and codified moral principles and rules, imposes a top-down vision of justice that seeks uniformity and closure. As such, it continues to struggle to accommodate the moral complexity, historical asymmetry, and affective weight that mark the years and events of Volyn for Poles and Ukrainians alike. Rather than aiming to foster understanding, it risks entrenching binary narratives of guilt and innocence, flattening memory into state-based narratives that obscure the plural and relational nature of historical and political experiences – especially during conflict.
 
In contrast, Walker’s expressive-collaborative model of moral reasoning and practices offers a contextually sensitive and dialogically grounded framework. It repositions morality as something lived and negotiated through relationships – wherein responsibility is not fixed in solely legal statuses, but also traced through the histories of trust, betrayal, silence, and repair that mark historic conflicts. Applied to the politics of memory, such a model does not demand a singular historical account but instead remains an open space where differentiated memory and plural perspectives coexist. It encourages practices of attentive listening, recognition, trust-building, and negotiated accountability that can overall support the work of mnemonic rapprochement – especially in a time when regional security and democratic integrity are under attack.

Footnotes

[1] Importantly, Kubijovyč was a documented Nazi sympathizer and collaborator; he headed the Ukrainian Central Committee, a quasi-political organization under the Nazi occupation of Poland. 
[2] I use ‘flattening’ in this context in a manner similar to Anna Carastathis – to speak to the discursive and political reduction of complex, intersecting histories and power relations into a singular narrative that erases contradiction, suppresses interstitial voices, and forecloses the possibility of plural, relational understandings of harm and resistance. For further reading, please see her work Anna Carastathis, “Basements and Intersections,” Hypatia 28, no. 4 (2013): 698-715.

The post WHITE PAPER: Contested Pasts and Foreclosed Futures: Poland’s Mnemonic Landscape, the Juridification of History, and the Election of Karol Nawrocki appeared first on Eastern European and Transatlantic Network.

Launched in September 2024, the Yerevan Dialogue (hereafter the Dialogue) is a pivotal initiative for Armenia’s regional geopolitical standing. Organized by the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the Republic of Armenia in collaboration with the Observer Research Foundation, an Indian government-affiliated think tank, the Dialogue underscores the deepening partnership and growing diplomatic and military ties between India and Armenia.

The Yerevan Dialogue strategically aims to advertise Armenia as the South Caucasus’s sole liberal hub amidst democratic setbacks in Georgia and increasing authoritarianism in Azerbaijan. It is organized in part as a response to similar regional initiatives, such as the Baku Security Forum and, to a lesser extent, forums in Georgia. With the initiative, Armenia aims to become a vital junction connecting Central Asia, Europe, Russia, and the Middle East. Beyond fostering regional connectivity and trade, Armenia also seeks to be an influential actor in conflict resolution, demonstrating its commitment to peace in the South Caucasus.

The second iteration of the Yerevan Dialogue, held in May 2025, focused on critical contemporary issues including connectivity, artificial intelligence, climate, international law, and geopolitical challenges. This aligns the Yerevan Dialogue with other prominent regional summits like the Halifax Security Forum, the Munich Security Conference, and the Warsaw Security Forum. The discussions were geared towards South and Eastern Europe as well as India, and to a lesser extent the Middle East, including Iran. Minimal representation from Central Asia at the Dialogue underscored Baku’s dominant regional position and diplomatic strategic advantage.

This policy analysis explores the significance of the Yerevan Dialogue within the evolving South Caucasus landscape, with a particular focus on the draft peace agreement with Azerbaijan, Armenia’s regional initiative — the Crossroads of Peace, and more broadly on international law and norms in a changing world. It shows how Armenia is banking on the rising status of the South Caucasus as a in global trade and connectivity to increase its relevance in international affairs; however, its diplomatic successes are tempered by Azerbaijan’s dominant geopolitical and military position.

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