The word “Bauhaus” literally translates from German to “house of building.” Originally, the Bauhaus was a school of design, architecture, and applied arts in Germany that emerged in response to the rapid social and technological changes following World War I. Its founder, architect Walter Gropius, sought to end the schism between art and technical craftsmanship by fusing functionality with aesthetics. In 2020, the European Union launched the New European Bauhaus (NEB) as part of the European Green Deal to bridge climate action with culture and creativity. Though the initiative draws on a legacy now a century old, it arrives at a moment of urgent relevance. The 1920s Bauhaus movement embodied a wider intellectual undertaking aimed at societal transformation. Today, the NEB continues this legacy, with a special focus on environmental protection, social justice, and urban regeneration. Yet while the NEB successfully revives the Bauhaus spirit of uniting design with social purpose, its revolutionary potential is undermined by structural barriers in implementation, persistent inequalities in access, and a funding model that privileges execution over imagination.

The NEB is an EU policy and funding program designed to make the green transition in the built environment “attractive and convenient for all.”  Its functioning includes grassroots-level engagement, tools and guidance for tailor-made solutions, the incorporation of stakeholders’ views, and a focus on people and social inclusion whilst maintaining strategic economic policies. The NEB follows a bottom-up approach, inviting citizens, stakeholders, and professionals to share perspectives to co-create solutions for their respective neighborhoods. Prizes were first awarded in 2021 in what has since become a well-established annual competition. In total, more than 5,700 applications have been received, and over €2 million has been awarded across the two competition strands: one for existing and completed projects and one for new concepts. 

Many NEB projects have been qualified successes. The NEB has been widely referred to as the “soul” of the European Green Deal, adding cultural and social aspects to ecological targets to ensure community values are part of the collective climate response. It has also inspired a range of innovative local and grassroots projects. In the Champions’ strand—recognizing existing, completed work—Spain’s Green Axes and Squares reclaims streets for the public and greenery, Austria’s cooperative die HausWirtschaft combines affordable housing with shared work and childcare, and Ukraine’s Promprylad transforms a former factory into a cooperative center of innovation and social investment. In the Rising Stars’ strand for new concepts, Barcelona’s Superblock project is recognized as an exceptional pilot that addresses green space shortages, climate change, air and noise pollution, road safety, and the rehabilitation of degraded urban areas through a single systemic framework. Outside individual projects, the NEB’s co-design process drew more than 2,000 contributors from over 85 countries, indicating the breadth of its ambition.

However, the NEB encounters serious impediments to long-term transformation. The project, CoolCo’s—Cooling Corners and Corridors, in Budapest, Hungary, serves as an example of a case where execution falls short. CoolCo’s was a small-scale urban heat adaptation installed in the summer of 2023 in the dense, socioeconomically vulnerable neighborhood of Józefváros. Following the engagement of community residents in the design and prototyping process, modular shaded seating structures, plants, water features, and information panels were installed in public spaces. However, the project failed to account for the friction between their need for rapid decision-making and the slow, procedurally rigid municipal systems, resulting in significant delays. Further, the co-design process at the beginning of the project was a one-off engagement that failed to establish an ongoing relationship, thus leaving gaps in long-term communal ownership. This was compounded by the generalized distrust of public institutions in the neighborhood, complicating participation efforts. Ultimately, the NEB principles supplied useful guiding ideals but offered little practical guidance for handling the realities of small, bottom-up, and community-driven projects. 

The NEB’s funding model, however, presents the most fundamental tension. While the initiative claims to privilege creativity and interdisciplinary experimentation, the distribution of prize money and financial support tends to favor already established, implementation-ready projects over early-stage or speculative ideas. The Champions strand winner receives €30,000—double the €15,000 award of the Rising Stars’ strand winner. The logic is understandable: completed projects have demonstrated results and offer higher potential for replication. But this creates a structural imbalance. Projects with existing institutional backing, technical maturity, or proven feasibility are far better positioned to secure meaningful funding, while more radical or untested concepts receive comparatively less support. 

This pattern matters because revolutionary design ideas often emerge from high-risk conceptual exploration as opposed to incremental refinements to present models. By allocating significantly less funding to new ideas, the NEB risks narrowing the scope of innovation to what is already scalable and administratively viable within existing EU frameworks. In effect, the NEB initiative privileges execution over imagination, contradicting what they claim to foster. This can also discourage participation from smaller actors, such as independent designers and undersourced municipalities, who may lack the capacity to develop fully realized proposals without substantial upfront investment. The result is a feedback loop where established actors continue to dominate, and even the NEB’s stated pledge to inclusion and co-creation is quietly undermined. If the initiative genuinely intends to inspire a completely new design paradigm, it must invest more heavily in the uncertain, conceptual stages of innovation. Otherwise, it risks becoming a showcase for polished projects rather than a generator of fundamentally new ones. 

The history of the original Bauhaus yields a cautionary precedent. Throughout its short life, the school endured rising political pressure from conservative forces in Weimar Germany, forcing it to relocate twice before the Nazis shut it down in 1933. Despite Walter Gropius’s repeated attempts to depoliticize the institution, its avant-garde, anti-bourgeois ideals made it structurally vulnerable not only to external hostility but also to internal tensions. The Bauhaus did not fail for a lack of vision. It failed because visionary institutions, without structural protection and political durability, cannot survive on ideas alone. 

The NEB, too, has a powerful vision and a constrained execution. To fulfill its potential, it needs dedicated funding streams, equity-focused criteria, and a willingness to invest in ideas that have not yet proven themselves. The deeper question the NEB raises is whether the design-led policy can drive genuine societal transformation, or whether institutional logic will always tame the radical impulse that makes such movements worth launching in the first place. The original Bauhaus changed how the world thinks about design. Whether the New European Bauhaus can do the same or will be undone by the same tensions that closed its predecessor remains to be seen. 

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: “Dessau-Bauhaus,” Image Sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

The South Caucasus has historically been at the center of great-power competition due to its unique location, which sits on the fault line between Europe and the Middle East. The nation of Georgia is now embroiled in domestic strife, as the ruling Georgian Dream party has faced massive protests against its erosion of democratic institutions and reversal of deepening ties with the West. Amidst this instability, China and Russia have stepped up their attempts to gain regional influence in the South Caucasus. Given the rising competition between the West and an emerging autocratic bloc over vulnerable states such as Georgia, the stakes are high.

Tamar Chugoshvili is a Georgian lawyer and democracy advocate, and is currently one of the sixteen Yale World Fellows. She previously served as the First Vice-Speaker of the Parliament of Georgia from 2016-2019, where she spearheaded various institutional reforms and anti-corruption initiatives. This interview was organized by YRIS and conducted with the assistance of Boston Risk Group, a student-led international relations research initiative at Tufts University.

Riley: Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. Let me just get a short introduction about who you are, what you do, and your work history.

Tamar: Thank you for having me for this interview. So my name is Tamar. I’m a Yale World Fellow. This is a program at Yale University that is run by the Yale International Leadership Center. This is the most competitive program here at Yale, which brings together 16 world fellows each year for one semester from different countries and backgrounds. I come from Georgia. I’m a lawyer and a former member of parliament, with 20 years of experience working in a civil office in politics. Most of my profile focuses on promoting, creating, and building democratic institutions, specifically in my case, reforming representative institutions like Parliament and local councils, and promoting accountability and transparency in executive institutions. 

Riley: All right. So our first question is, you’ve engaged closely with international institutions, from the Council of Europe to the Women Political Leaders Global Forum. What role do international partnerships and civil society play in sustaining democratic progress when political will falters?

Tamar: That’s a very interesting and very difficult question. I have experience working with both civil society organizations and state institutions. And I have represented Georgia on various important platforms, including the Council of Europe, but I also chaired the Georgian Parliament. I represented the parliament of Georgia to other legislative institutions such as the U.S. Congress, the Israeli Knesset, and other parliaments, so I know the role of formal national institutions and the role of non-state institutions, civil society organizations, both local and international. And I should say that cooperation between states and partnerships between countries are of crucial importance, especially for Georgia, considering we are a small country. But the civil society organizations, both nationally and internationally, have tremendous importance. And for years, organizations like Human Rights Watch, or many others, have been very instrumental for us in our democratic transformation, because we were going through a very challenging past. We were reforming ourselves from a post Soviet failed state into a European-style democratic state. That would have been impossible without the support and knowledge that came from all these non-state actors. 

Aiden: You have long been an advocate for transparency, parliamentary reform, and anti-corruption mechanisms. Georgia’s history has been marked by several periods of democratization and backsliding throughout the Saakashvili and Georgian Dream eras. Given these repeated patterns, what do you believe are the necessary preconditions for a durable and long-lasting democracy in Georgia?

Tamar: So indeed, you’re absolutely right. Basically, in my lifetime, I have observed Georgia completely collapse and be devastated, then rise from the ruins, and collapse again. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, Georgia had a war with Russia, a civil war, and complete anarchy to follow up. So we’ve been very vigilant on reforming, improving, and rising from this collapse. And I think that if we want to understand global politics, we should start not from Washington, DC. We should start with places like Georgia, like the Caucasus, and why? Because this is a place where these global interests really clash. 

So, geographically, we are located between the West and the East. It’s the meeting point of West and East, and throughout the centuries, interests from Eastern countries have sought to influence the region where Georgia lies. That is what China calls One Belt, One Road. This is a transit route that China wants to use to trade with the West, so the Caucasus is a very important region for them. This region is also very important to Russia, because Russia wants to maintain this part of the world as its backyard. It wants to prevent us from joining NATO. It also wants to prevent us from joining the European Union. And at the end of the day, the last thing they want to see is a country in the former Soviet order prospering as a democratic state. 

And while the United States and the West dominated world politics after the Cold War, following the collapse of the Soviet Union, the presence of the United States and US politics in Georgia was very strong. The US was supporting Georgia to build our country up against a neighbor that really is our enemy. So for us to exist and to develop as an independent country, we needed a strong friend. And that strong friend for us has been the United States and the West. 

It was young people, people your age, years ago, who started working for very high offices in the civil service. Some of them became members of parliament. They themselves were contributing to the creation and passage of new legislation, new rules, that shifted our country. After the U.S. made the decision that it did not want to be the hegemonic power in the world, we saw the role of the West and the United States decrease. In our region, the power and interests of China and Russia are now increasing, and that has an immediate impact on democracy and what happens domestically. So Georgians were basically left feeling alone in this process to push back against massive powers and dictatorships.

Young Georgians are right now in a very difficult situation, because they are fighting desperately. Youth as young as 21 years old are imprisoned due to ongoing strife. For example, one year ago, a youth was just protesting in the street with thousands of other Georgians, and he was randomly arrested by the police. He was sentenced to four years of imprisonment despite committing no crime. So it is difficult for us, the citizens, to continue this fight for democracy without any outside support. 

All support from the United States, including USAID, the National Democratic Institute, and other American organizations, is gone. USAID was essential in providing funding and resources for people who wanted to build democracy in their own countries. All of that is gone with the Trump administration’s decision. That has left Georgia in a challenging situation where we see propaganda coming from foreign press. These foreign press coming from China, Russia, and even from inside Georgia are all trying to destroy the democracy that we have built up to now. It’s a difficult, challenging moment for us. So, for a small country like Georgia, it’s not enough to only have a people with a desire to build a democratic nation. We also need global powers to support our cause. 

Riley: You’ve been deeply involved in Georgia’s constitutional reforms, from the successful 2017-18 amendments that transitioned the nation to a Parliamentary Democracy to the failed 2019 effort to transfer to a fully proportional system by 2020. Given this experience, do you believe that state institutions are strong enough to prevent the GD from amending the constitution to codify their hold on power? Furthermore, how likely do you see this as happening?

Tamar: The ruling party, even though they very much want to amend the Constitution, our Constitution is very good in that it is very clear in stating that the future of Georgia is in integrating with the European Union and NATO. I believe the ruling party wants to remove this statement from the Constitution, but they cannot do so because it’s very difficult to amend the Constitution in the Georgian system. Constitutional amendments require a very high amount of support in the parliament and must be supported in two separate parliamentary sessions. The ruling party does not have enough members of parliament to make such a change, and I hope they will never get enough seats to amend the Constitution. So at this point, the only thing they’ve managed to capture is basically all the state institutions. The Constitutional Court is no longer independent. The Parliament cannot function effectively, but the majority is still not powerful enough to amend our constitution in a way that would allow them to delete whatever they dislike.

Aiden: I saw in an article you mentioned that the Georgian opposition could improve its effectiveness through greater unity among opposition parties and by adopting nontraditional protest methods to increase visibility. However, what stood out to me was your call for greater participation from the business sector, which has increasingly opposed the GD. How and why do you believe that business could play such a critical role in political opposition?

Tamar: I’ve been quite critical about how the opposition has handled the process, but it’s very difficult for me to speak about it right now. Most of the opposition leaders are in jail, and you cannot criticize people who are political prisoners. So I’m trying not to do that. 

As for the business sector, the political process needs money. Somebody has to fund the political competition, and the ruling party is led by a billionaire oligarch. That party has all the resources in the world. They control the entire state budget. They have a world salesperson in the country leading them, and they have all of Georgia’s major businessmen surrounding them and supporting them. Even if businesses do not really like them, businesses still have to support the ruling party because of the system. They don’t want to make enemies with the system. 

However, to have a competitive political process, someone has to fund the opposition as well. How can you oppose the ruling party, which has so many resources, if there is no funding on your side? So it is very important to find independent sources to fund campaigning. Even though it is difficult to secure this funding from the business sector, an unusual phenomenon is occurring: crowdfunding. We’ve seen people donating small amounts of what they own, even though they are not wealthy, and often lack resources themselves, but they are still contributing to the opposition’s cause. These funds are used to help political prisoners and their families. I think crowdfunding can help us in the future, not just to create political resistance, but also as a source of income and funding for the opposition. Without funding, it’s impossible to engage in a campaign and challenge the ruling party.

Riley: Moving to a more global level, Georgia stands at a unique crossroads geographically, historically, and geopolitically. It lies along both the ancient Silk Road and today’s Belt and Road Initiative, while navigating the competing influences of major powers. How can Georgia position itself as a connector politically and economically while preserving genuine strategic autonomy?

Tamar: This is difficult to do when you’re a small nation facing global powers, but we must do so. That’s the only way Georgia can maintain itself and its identity as a country of Georgians. We need to prosper as a democratic state and integrate more with the West, but we also need to be able to engage with other powers such as China. However, that can only happen if Georgia can continue to count on and retain support from the West, through the European Union and the United States. These are the only powers that would respect a small nation as an independent and sovereign country. Russia does not respect the independence or sovereignty of its neighboring smaller nations. Russia considers us as part of their territory, to which they can do whatever they want. This is why Georgia wants to be part of the West: European countries respect other nations, cultures, languages, and territories. Russia does not. The only way for Georgia to maintain its sovereignty and identity is to keep integrating with the European Union and to become a member state. While we seek to have constructive relationships with powers such as China or Russia, I don’t think this is currently possible.

Aiden: On the topic of regional stability, the resolution of the Nagorno-Karabakh issue has had significant implications for security in the South Caucasus. Do you believe this is a genuine turning point towards greater regional stability or perhaps an invitation for more great power competition in the South Caucasus?

Tamar: It is very important that the Armenian-Azerbaijan conflict in the Caucasus permanently ends. This conflict has been going on for decades and has been devastating. It is impossible to focus on constructive things, such as the economy and the well-being of the people, when two of the three countries in the South Caucasus are at constant war.

A positive development that occurred was the United States’ role in striking a peace deal between the two countries. But this peace is still too fragile. We still don’t know whether this deal will last. There is still a lot of work that needs to be done for lasting peace. Anything could spark a new conflict. If a long-lasting peace is achieved, this will enable greater opportunities for the region. It would allow us to work on joint economic projects that would allow all of us in the region to become powerful forces in the future.

Riley: I’d like to talk about Ukraine for a moment. Since the invasion of Ukraine, Georgia’s geopolitical importance has sharply risen. From Zelenskyy’s initial pressure on Georgia to open a second front against Russia to the thousands of Georgian volunteers in Ukraine, these cases highlight the ties between the nations. Do you think Ukraine has become a polarizing issue in Georgian politics, and how have both political sides framed it? And finally, how do you see the outcome of the conflict in Ukraine affecting Georgia? 

Tamar: This war has had a tremendous impact on Georgia and our government. I’m ashamed of what our government did in this regard. The Georgian government has been using Russia’s devastating invasion of Ukraine for its own benefit. Basically, the central message of the Georgian government has been that Ukraine could have avoided the war if it had played smart, and it did not. So the government is blaming Ukrainians for this war instead of saying what really happened. And what really happened is that the Russians invaded Ukraine. As simple as that. There is no blame on the Ukrainian side, and no one can blame it on them, which our government shamefully does. The Georgian ruling party is trying to convince Georgian citizens that it is a good party to have in power because it will keep Georgia out of war. Because Georgians have trauma from its numerous past wars, people are really traumatized and weary of future wars. Instead of showing proper support to Ukrainians, I think that the Georgian government has been very negative, and in the most negative way has manipulated the war in Ukraine for their own benefit. That is a very shameful thing to do. 

Aiden: So it seems like there’s a very big generational divide among Georgians. Why do you think that older people drew the lessons from the wars in the 90s and the 2008 war to be highly risk-averse and not to incite another conflict? And on the other hand, why might younger people view foreign affairs from a more nationalist and revanchist perspective?

Tamar: There is definitely a national generational divide. We have one generation that was born and raised in the Soviet Union. We have another who was born and raised in an independent and democratic country. The mindsets of these people are entirely different. Young people want freedom, independence, and opportunities in their own country. They want to live like the young people across Europe, where there are many possibilities for them, where they can think what they want, and say what they want. They want the ability to make decisions and achieve success in their lives.

The older generation is driven by a fear that there is worse to come. This is something difficult to overcome, but it can only be overcome over time. Older generations have the beliefs they do about politics because they grew up in a dictatorship, where this was the normal state of affairs. They were also victims of constant conflicts and wars, so it’s very difficult to convince them to change their mindset because that is what they grew up with. 

For the young people, though, it’s hard to get used to the idea that they should have no opportunities or freedom. Unfortunately, in their own homeland, the only way to find a better life is to escape, go somewhere else, and run away to start a new life. That’s our dilemma. However, the future is still with Georgia’s youth. Young people are always the future. The law is always with young people, so I think they will prevail.

Aiden: I wanted to ask a little bit about the foreign agents law passed last year that drew close comparisons to similar laws in Russia and Belarus. This law has significantly restricted the ability of civil society institutions to function. I would like to know if you see this event as a watershed moment, codifying a shift in foreign policy toward Russia, or as part of a continuing trend of closer ties to Russia?

Tamar: It was definitely a very significant moment, but it was one piece in a longer chain of developments. The foreign agents law is a terrible invention of Russia, enabling the government to label anyone who is a critic of the regime as agents of foreign countries. One of the fellows at Yale is from Russia, and he has been labeled by the Russian government as a foreign agent under a similar law. This law is an instrument to silence and demonize people. Many claim the government has political prisoners, that it’s not good to have them, and that it’s not good to send young people to jail for nothing. Those people are then denounced as foreign agents. Instead of accepting the truth, these regimes, through this terrible piece of legislation, dehumanize people who try to speak the truth.

The initial attempts to pass this law sparked a huge public outcry. Major protests prevented the government from enacting the law for over a year. But now it’s been enacted. It is one piece of a broader government strategy to drift away from the West and bring Georgia closer to Russia. Georgian civil society had been receiving funding from international organizations for nearly three decades, including the European Union and USAID. German and Swedish funds were crucial in the past, but under this foreign agents law we can receive this funding only with the Georgian government’s permission. So imagine that you’re seeking funding for a project that is pursuing anti-corruption work or helping political prisoners in Georgia. You’d need funds for that. The government says you can’t receive that funding without their permission. The government would never enable anyone to receive funds for work that would expose their corruption or other wrongdoings. It has eliminated civil society organizations, especially government watchdogs. 

Riley: One final question: looking ahead, what gives you the most confidence in Georgia’s political future? What should the next generation of global leaders understand about the challenges of small state governance? 

Tamar: Even though the developments are very adverse at this stage, I see this whole ordeal as a process. Throughout Georgian history, the country has fallen and risen and fallen and risen again. I see this current ordeal as another stage, a difficult period for us, but one from which we will find our way out. The primary source of hope for us in the region is that the people just do not want to spend their lives under a single dictator and are fighting to reclaim their dignity and freedom. Unfortunately, political parties and processes have not been able to channel the public’s will into real political and governmental change.

However, what is essential is that Georgia should be taken as a lesson not just for small countries, but for bigger nations as well. This conflict began due to rising polarization. Everything started with the spread of lies used to divide society, so people refuse to talk to each other or communicate opposing opinions. The polarization and hatred are a product of the propaganda machinery of state television and foreign sources, especially the influence of Russia and China. Those actors can divide society in a dramatic and very negative way. When it comes to democratic institutions, there are some signs that people have to watch for: any attack on the judicial system is very dangerous, and polarization is very dangerous. So I hope Georgia’s present situation can serve as a lesson for other nations to identify and detect those worrisome traits in their early stages and then eliminate them.

“Aiden Wasserman is the President of Boston Risk Group, a student-led initiative at Tufts University providing pro bono research support to NGOs, Embassies, NGOs, and Think Tanks on a variety of geopolitical issues. You can find out more about BRG here.”

During the ongoing war in Ukraine, Russia has quietly threatened many of its neighbors, gauging their ability to withstand future Kremlin aggression. The battlefield for global influence between NATO and Russia extends far beyond Ukraine. While reports of Russian drone incursions into Poland made it to front pages across the world in September 2025, far fewer people have heard of the struggles for political dominance in the tiny nation of Georgia, or Russia’s campaign of sabotage against Estonia in Northern Europe. While not as violent or destructive as the full-scale war raging in Eastern Ukraine, each struggle plays an important role in the broader conflicts between world powers. Given the strategic advantage that would be afforded to Putin if he achieves success along these smaller fronts, it is vital for NATO to take decisive action and begin taking these challenges more seriously. The most crucial steps for NATO and its allies in their struggle against Russia include an increased military presence in threatened allied countries, a stronger effort towards leveraging soft power and information campaigns within the various political battlegrounds across Eurasia, and a coordinated initiative to ease Baltic policies against the Russian language that feeds Kremlin narratives of marginalization.  

One of the most important theatres of Russia’s competition with Western powers lies in the local politics of much smaller nations. Georgia, a nation of nearly four million people located south of Russia, has seen a shift in popular support towards NATO and the EU in the last two decades in defiance of Russian aggression. This strategic victory for the West has begun to deteriorate after Georgia’s request to join the EU was halted in protest of what the EU described as democratic backsliding. More recently the Georgian government passed a controversial foreign agents law, sparking massive protests after critics accused it of mimicking Russian legislation targeting NGOs. Georgia is not the only small country that Russia has been making efforts to win over. Russian officials have been paying friendly visits to Kyrgyzstan to solidify friendly relations, despite the fact that the Kyrgyzstani government has passed laws against the Russian language in their home country. These laws closely resemble similar laws passed in the Baltics, which have ignited outrage from the Kremlin and are used as the justification for increased hostilities and aggressive actions against the tiny EU member states Latvia and Estonia. Altogether, while seemingly distant scenarios, these situations share an opportunity for strategic action by NATO and its allies. 

Kyrgyzstani pushback against the degradation of their native tongue represents a perfect opportunity for NATO to leverage the situation to their political advantage. Russian is the second most spoken language in Kyrgyzstan and has been frequently used in broadcasting, business, and governance, leading to legislative pushback seeking to ensure the preservation of Kyrgyz as the dominant language. This effort has gained traction in light of a surge of Russian migrants into Kyrgyzstan due to the invasion of Ukraine, primarily in 2022 and 2023. These migrants are perceived by some locals as a threat. The Kyrgyzstani government passed a law resembling controversial laws in Estonia and Latvia that mandate increased usage of Kyrgyz in broadcasting, government, and the names of various locations. While these laws have sparked Russian outrage against the Baltics, it is interesting to note that Russia has still maintained a cordial relationship with Kyrgyzstan, likely due to Kyrgyzstan’s strategic value to the Russian economy, particularly in its effort to avoid tariffs. Given the fact that some within the Kyrgyz population have voiced frustrations against the prevalence of the Russian language within its borders as well as Russian immigration, this is likely the most effective argument for NATO to convince Kyrgyzstan to expand its relationship with the West. NATO faces an uphill battle to achieve diplomatic wins in a nation bordering Russia, with a high population of ethnic Russians, a significant trade relationship with the Kremlin, and a location isolated from the democratic world, signaling that any potential opportunity cannot be ignored. It would work towards NATO’s benefit to increase public awareness in Kyrgyzstan of this controversial surge of Russian migrants, putting pressure on the Kyrgyz government to become more vocally critical of Russia’s actions. This could be quickly acted upon via American and European state-funded news, NGO funding within Kyrgyzstan, and diplomatic dialogue. 

To the Southeast lies the Caucasus, a region divided by the Black Sea and the Caspian Sea, home to the ancient nation of Georgia, which is currently balancing a tightrope between Russia and the West. After a decade of growing popular support for membership in the European Union which signaled a political loss for Russia, the Georgian government enacted a controversial law to the dismay of both the European Union itself and supporters for Georgian membership. This “Foreign Agents Registration Act” has stoked massive protests in the capital of Tbilisi, accused of mirroring a similar Russian law. Given that until recently NATO had been gaining ground in the country which harbored anger against Russia due to the military annexation of Abkhazia and South Ossetia, these recent developments have marked a drastic turn of events. By investing in diplomatic and grassroot efforts aiming to swing the advantage back in their favor, Western powers would be taking the first step towards addressing one of the most contentious power struggles in their competition with Putin. 

An imminent reinforcement of military strength and capability in Estonia is vital for ensuring European security. Estonia is largely considered to be the most vulnerable EU member state to a Russian attack, and constant Russian aggression has proven that this vulnerability is not one to be ignored. Russia has cut internet cables in the Baltic Sea, flown aircraft in Estonian airspace, and even sent a drone over the border, “Estonia now finds itself in what officials describe as a ‘silent war’—a campaign of hostile actions that stop short of open conflict but aim to destabilize and intimidate.” Despite spending an exorbitant portion of their budget on national defense and announcing plans to increase military spending in the future, Estonia’s active-duty armed forces still number fewer than ten thousand. One counterargument against the case for bolstering troops in Estonia is that it is the least tactically important nation in the Baltics. If Russia chose the most anticipated strategy for invasion, Estonia would be cut off from the rest of Western Europe, and any foreign detachments stationed there would become trapped. Despite the truth of this argument, neglecting to increase NATO’s military presence within the country would jeopardize deterrence efforts. By continuing to bolster its meager number of troops in Estonia, NATO would display a powerful and unwavering commitment to its members not only to Russia, but to the entire world. 

While Estonia is more vulnerable to invasion, Latvia and Lithuania are considered the most likely Russian targets for a major offensive against Europe. The Suwalki Gap is a sparsely populated stretch of Lithuanian and Polish land separating Belarus with Kaliningrad, a small Russian enclave within mainland Europe. Many military strategists believe that Russia would target this gap in the case of an invasion, solidifying this location as well as all of Lithuania as a crucial piece of land to defend. As seemingly straightforward as the need to bolster these defenses may be, the effort to do so has been slow moving. By 2026 NATO will have a Brigade size force stationed within Latvia. Germany also made a significant move by pledging to station a full brigade in Lithuania by 2027, but in the case of a full-scale war the Suwalki Gap would likely need a division sized force (15,000-20,000). If EU lawmakers follow through on increasing defense spending in 2026, stationing a larger force in the Baltics is not only feasible, but vital to European security amid ongoing tensions with Russia.  

The Baltic states’ approach towards handling the Russian language should be softened and humanized to ease domestic tension and prevent handing the Kremlin free political capital, which will in turn benefit Western powers in the information war. When it comes to winning over hearts and minds, Russia has used the Baltic states to its advantage by attacking their policies against the Russian language as harsh and discriminatory. It is not just the Russian government that has been enraged, but the Russian minority has responded harshly to the Estonian government in Tallinn, especially towards the removal of monuments to Soviet soldiers. This is a similar narrative to the position the Kremlin has taken to justify their invasion of Ukraine launched in 2022. The fact that laws dealing with the Russian language in Kyrgyzstan (a country that has been important to Russia in its efforts to survive tariffs) have not met a similar outcry from the Russian government suggest that accusations against the Baltics and Ukraine of marginalizing their Russian minorities are likely as strategically motivated as they are ideological. Russia will likely use these allegations as a justification for force in the event of a conflict in the Baltics regardless of their truth, yet it nonetheless remains vital to ensure that these narratives lack any truth altogether. Any developments dispersed to an international audience that align with Russian claims work to legitimize Russian claims and degrade NATO’s values of freedom and democracy for all. This leaves proper treatment of the Russian minority in Estonia and adherence to their rights as Estonian citizens of paramount importance, regardless that many native Estonians associate this minority with the harsh memories of a Communist past. 

Ukraine is only one sphere of the ongoing struggle between Putin and the West; many smaller post-Soviet countries remain critical in their strategic value. NATO’s position necessitates coordinated and persistent efforts by policymakers, diplomats, and intelligence agencies on behalf of democracies across the world, while also maintaining respect for each nation’s core values and sovereignty. NATO leaders, especially those within mainland Europe, must remember that active efforts towards the defense of member states and the advocation towards Western values of self-determination must be a constant priority to preserve stability. NATO must increase its forces in the Baltics, settle tension with Russian minorities, and capitalize on political opportunity in Georgia and Kyrgyzstan with urgency today to prevent Russia from exploiting vulnerabilities in the future.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: NATO Headquarters, Image sourced from Flickr | CC License, no changes made

For just one time I would take the Northwest Passage

To find the hand of Franklin reaching for the Beaufort Sea

Tracing one warm line through a land so wide and savage

And make a Northwest Passage to the Sea.

“Northwest Passage,”Stan Rogers, 1981.

During the Age of Sail, countless sailors attempted to traverse the frigid arctic waters of the North Pole in search of a maritime route that would cut down on shipping costs and travel time. However, due to the treacherous conditions, rogue ice sheets, and insufficient advancements in naval technology, all expeditions ended in failure and death. Nevertheless, with modern-day Arctic vessels such as icebreakers and the thawing of polar ice, a “Northwest Passage” may finally be in reach. 

A potential arctic shipping route has appeared attractive for centuries due to its potential to cut shipping costs and travel time by nearly half, or 6,200 miles – roughly the length of the entire Pacific Ocean when measured from Los Angeles to Beijing. Additionally, ships taking this polar express would avoid the conflict-prone Red Sea, where recent Houthi missile attacks on maritime cargo ships have required the armed intervention of the American navy to protect commerce. 

Due to increasing temperatures and the unequal distribution of heat on the Earth’s surface, the poles heat up four times faster on average than the rest of the Earth for an average of 12.8% sea ice decline per decade. However, this does not necessarily mean the Arctic is completely ice-free. Instead, man-made climate change has created brief seasonal windows when the ice retreats just enough to make Arctic maritime shipping viable. Still, in an interview with CNN, the polar geopolitics expert Elizabeth Buchanan remarked, “A new global economic corridor is about to come online… This is a game changer.” 

Additionally, the Arctic Circle is estimated to contain 30% of Earth’s undiscovered natural gas and 13% of its undiscovered oil reserves, potentially making any nation that could control or exert influence over the region very powerful. Consequently, Canada, Denmark, and Russia have all recently invoked an obscure clause in the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea to extend their economic claims to the Arctic.

The United States, however, may find it difficult to justify similar economic activity in the Arctic as the United States has yet to sign the aforementioned United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, therefore making any claims outside its 200 mile exclusive economic zone illegitimate in the eyes of international law. Alaskan politicians have since lobbied the federal government to become a signatory, but progress is unlikely to be made due to long-held American fears of loss of sovereignty to the United Nations. Interestingly, if the United States were a signatory to the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea, not only would it be able to extend its Alaskan Arctic claims by almost 160,000 square miles, it would also potentially be able to stack the scientific panels judging international oceanic claims with American experts. 

Given the highly lucrative potential of the Arctic, the power of influencing territorial arbitration would be especially important due to the many overlapping claims that cover the Arctic. For example, the Lomonosov Ridge, an underwater mountain range stretching 1,100 miles in the extreme North Pole, is claimed by both Russia and Canada. The importance of the Lomonosov Ridge led Russia in 2007 to plant a Russian flag on the seabed around the Lomonosov Ridge using a robotic arm attached to a submarine. It is perhaps also no coincidence that the parts of the Arctic closest to Russia have been described as having “mind-boggling” amounts of oil and natural gas. 

Whereas the interests of countries like China are purely economic in nature, the Arctic has also been militarily important to polar nations like Russia, Canada, and the United States for several decades. For example, during the Cold War, Canada and the United States’ early-warning missile-detection systems were based in the Arctic. Likewise, the Center for Strategic and International Studies has described the purpose of Russia’s Arctic military presence as being to “1. Enhance homeland defense, specifically a forward line of defense against foreign incursion as the Arctic attracts increased international investment; 2. Secure Russia’s economic future; and 3. Create a staging ground to project power, primarily in the North Atlantic.” Predicitably, Russia also has the world’s largest icebreaker fleet, numbering at 50, with some icebreakers nuclear-powered and armed. Comparatively, the United States has two, both of which are decades old. 

In fact, in terms of active economic, legal, and military activity in the North Pole, Russia is the world’s foremost Arctic power. According to U.S. officials, if NATO were to regain the Arctic advantage, it would require the construction of 70 to 90 icebreakers. During the 2024 NATO summit, the United States, Canada, and Finland announced the Icebreaker Collaboration Effort (ICE) to begin negotiations regarding a joint effort to construct new icebreakers. This joint nature of this agreement is notable as the United States is expected to require consistent, deliberate investment spanning decades to bring its shipyards up to global par in icebreaker construction – a problem emblematic of the larger decline of American shipyards as a whole. Inevitably, the United States is relying on polar allies such as Finland to build icebreakers for it, as in the $6.1 billion Finno-American deal announced in October of 2025, under which Finland will build four icebreakers for the United States Coast Guard and assist America in constructing seven additional icebreakers. The first icebreaker is expected to be delivered in 2028. 

Although the Arctic has the potential to be the next frontier of geopolitics, environmentalists warn of the possibility of catastrophic destruction there. Counterintuitively, melting sea ice in the Arctic actually makes transiting to the North Pole more perilous in some respects, as the thawed ice now floats freely and unpredictably rather than being previously locked into unmoving ice sheets. This has the potential to damage oil tankers transiting through the Arctic and cause oil spills. Whereas oil spills in other oceans, such as the Gulf of Mexico, can be relatively manageable to clean up due to their proximity to highly developed and prepared nations like the United States, Arctic oil spills have the potential to be uniquely destructive to the environment, as the desolate and isolated nature of the Arctic Ocean makes cleanup exceptionally difficult. Not only would specialized vessels such as icebreakers be necessary, but the frigid Arctic temperatures might also require specialized cleanup equipment and specially trained crews. Not only would oil stay in the relatively pristine Arctic waters for longer than in other oceans, but the dark, black color of spilled oil would also absorb sunlight, heating the Arctic even further. 

As the climate warms and more Arctic sea ice melts, more human activity accelerating climate change is expected to take place in the Arctic in a positive feedback loop akin to a vicious, environmental death spiral. Consequently, this will further warm the climate, leading to additional climate-change-contributing Arctic activity. This will, of course, lead to even more climate change. 

Instead, it would do the world well to look south for guidance. The 1959 Antarctic Treaty established the South Pole as a demilitarized, environmentally-protected, scientific no-man’s-land, which it has remained to this day. Consequently, Antarctica has stayed relatively untouched. Not only would a scramble for the Arctic spell disaster for the environment, it would also inflame the growing great power competition between the United States and Russia. The Arctic is at a crossroads, and it could either become an additional theater in geopolitical struggle, or a testament to international cooperation and the pursuit of science over extraction. A treaty akin to the 1959 Antarctic Treaty should be enacted that would protect the Arctic, and put posterity before profit.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Arctic, Image sourced from RawPixel | CC License, no changes made

Did we learn nothing? Hitler utilized ethnocentric nationalism to unite the “Aryan” Germans against Jews based on their belief in racial superiority. This led to one of the most horrific genocides in the past century, drastically changing how countries approach international relations, human rights, and economic policy. Yet nearly a century later, Germany faces a disturbingly familiar pattern. So while the outward symbols have changed, the political mechanics, like exclusion and fear, are parallel. Germany’s far-right revival, brought by the Alternative für Deutschland (AfD), demonstrates once again that history repeats itself.

History lessons are often remembered as abstract concepts, as if there is a physical barrier between the past and the present. Germany’s post-war constitution was designed to prevent another Hitler, yet nationalist rhetoric has crept back into mainstream politics. Today, the AfD capitalizes on the same conditions that once invigorated the Nazi Party: cultural anxieties, economic uncertainty, and mistrust in institutions. The resurgence of the far-right in Germany illustrates how ethnonationalist and populist rhetoric, which Hitler once weaponized, has returned to Germany in a new form. By exploiting citizens’ fear, social division, and political dissatisfaction, the AfD threatens the foundations of Germany’s post-war democratic stability. 

To prevent history from repeating itself, it is imperative to understand Hitler’s rise. Many nationalists, such as Hitler, employed populist tactics to achieve their goals. Populist politics typically emerge as a reaction against globalization, and their proponents use straightforward inclusion and exclusion to reach their base and win electoral majorities. As noted by Harvard sociologist Bart Bonikowski, populism serves as a “discursive tool of political outsiders–usually elites themselves–who seek to gain power by eschewing mainstream politics.”¹ This dynamic reflects a growing trend today “among political elites to channel public grievances into ethnoracial resentment and political distrust.”² 

Furthermore, in political scientist Panayota Gounari’s words, fear politics utilize an ethnic, religious, linguistic, or political minority “as a scapegoat for most if not all current” problems of the country, subsequently construing the other group as dangerous and threatening.³ These explanations of nationalism and how it uses populism as its means perfectly align with the rise of the Nazi Party in the 1920s and 1930s. Following its defeat in World War I, Germany faced staggering economic hardship, in part due to the extensive monetary reparations required by the Treaty of Versailles. By framing Jewish people as responsible for Germany’s problems, Hitler was able to reach his white Germanic base around an imagined national purity and gain popularity. Today, similar forces are again shaping German politics. 

The Alternative für Deutschland, or AfD, is a populist far-right political party in Germany that became the second-strongest party after receiving 20.8 percent of the vote in the 2025 federal election. The party initially started gaining traction after adopting xenophobic and Islamophobic positions following the refugee crisis in 2015, when almost one million asylum seekers settled in Germany. The crisis led to many political tensions, such as concerns over the strain on social services, the integration of refugees, and increased crime rates. While overall crime and total victimization rates actually declined, the AfD exploited this fear to gain support and create an ingroup as their base of power. 

The party’s rhetoric portrays migrants and refugees as invaders who threaten German culture and security. In 2021, the leader of the AfD party in the state of Thuringia, Björn Höcke, concluded a political campaign speech with the words, “Everything for our homeland, everything for Saxony-Anhalt, and everything for Germany!” The last part of his speech is banned in Germany because it was the slogan associated with the Nazi Sturmabteilung stormtroopers, who played a key role in the Nazi Party’s rise to power. This slogan once again emphasizes cultural purity and exclusion. Further, in 2017, Björn Höcke referred to the Holocaust memorial in Berlin as a “monument of shame,” stating that the Germans’ mental state continues to be that of a “totally vanquished people.” Höcke’s remarks test the limits of democratic tolerance, which is the willingness to accept the civil rights and liberties of all citizens, regardless of their opinions. While this is central to any democracy, unlimited tolerance should be cautioned, however, because “it may lead to the disappearance of tolerance itself.” The Nazi movement has shown that when unlimited tolerance is extended to those who are intolerant, the tolerant will be destroyed. Höcke reframes national memory as something to be rejected instead of respected, dangerously telling Germans to ignore the lessons the past gives.

Germany’s post-war constitution specifically places limits on far-right and other extremist speech. Due to its increased radicalization, Germany’s domestic intelligence agency, the Federal Office for the Protection of the Constitution (BfV), put AfD under surveillance as a potential threat to the constitution. The BfV concluded that the far-right wing of the AfD had “extremist intentions,” and that the AfD’s “vehement anti-migrant rhetoric online was leading to violence in the real world.” Furthermore, the BfV assessed that about one-third of the AfD party members are inclined towards right-wing extremist violence. 

Along with anti-immigration stances, the AfD has also embraced anti-LBGTQ+, anti-environmental, and pro-Russian positions, among others. In Thuringia and Saxony, several wings and organizations of the party have even been deemed “a threat to the liberal democratic order.” The AfD party’s leaders consistently oppose support for Ukraine and refuse to label Putin a war criminal, claiming Russia is a victim of Western aggression. By aligning with Russia in the war, the AfD appeals to Germans skeptical of NATO and frustrated by Germany’s role in global conflicts. 

Dr. Karl-Rudolf Korte of the North Rhine-Westphalia School of Governance explained that AfD mobilized as a “profiteer of fear,” and thrived because it filled in the emotional and ideological gaps left by traditional parties. Since June 2023, AfD has received more support from the German people in opinion polls than the ruling chancellor’s party, the Social Democrats (SPD). In June 2023, the AfD won its first county administrator post in a runoff election in Sonneberg in the eastern German state of Thuringia, where the AfD is classified as a “proven right-wing extremist” by the BfV. 

AfD profits from fear and agitates resentment, passively collecting dissatisfied voters of other parties. Harmony, consistency, or agenda is irrelevant to AfD voters. AfD, rather than having a base of ideologically committed voters, “collects communities of disappointed and mistrustful voters from other parties.” AfD, as a sponge for resentment, benefits from fears that typically accompany societal modernization: the dissolution of traditional roles and the loss of security. This manifests in fears of downward social mobility, which is usually blamed on the influx of immigrants. These fears translate into a desire for a return to the ‘good old days,’ when German society was supposedly more homogeneous and stable. They try neither to convert nor lecture voters; instead, they mobilize on issues where other parties remain silent because they lack common positions, for instance in economic stances. Political scientist Achim Goerres has found that the economic preferences of AfD voters are very mixed, which leaves little potential for strategy blurring. Many AfD voters feel ostracized in Germany and find appeal in AfD’s stances. Any weakness of parties in the center becomes support for the AfD.

The aftermath of COVID-19 has led to feelings of social isolation, economic turmoil, and fatigue from constant change. This perceived instability creates a “breeding ground for authoritarian temptations that promise simple answers and idyllic worlds.” AfD’s appeal can be boiled down to those concerns: its promise to protect ‘ordinary people’ from globalization, immigration, and out-of-touch elites. 

Support for the AfD is not evenly distributed across genders and demographics. Pew Research Center says in a 2024 report that “around one-in-five Germans (19%) see AfD favorably, but a large majority (79%) have a negative opinion of the party.” However, men “have more positive views of AfD than women do (26% vs. 11%), and the share of men holding this opinion has risen 10 points since 2022.” 

This gender gap can be attributed to several factors. Economic instability has hit working-class men the hardest, particularly in more rural areas. As technology continues to develop, it changes the market and leads to a decline in traditional manufacturing jobs. Shifting social values have also led some men to lose the sense of identity and pride once tied to earlier social roles. This phenomenon has been called the “status threat” by Diana Mutz. The feeling of being left behind economically prompts a defensive reaction from those who believe that it’s been stolen from them. 

The AfD taps into this alienation by insisting upon traditional masculinity, order, and national pride. By framing immigration and feminism as threats to the stability of Germany, AfD produces cultural resentment. This, combined with economic insecurity, pushes many men toward the far right.

The rise of AfD has already shifted the German political scene. AfD Party leaders Alice Weidel and Tino Chrupalla increasingly undermine trust in Germany’s democratic institutions by questioning election results, disparaging public broadcasters as “state propaganda,” and promoting conspiracy theories about migration. At AfD’s party conference to select candidates for the European Parliament, many party members were openly promoting theories such as the “Great Replacement,” which holds that political elites are “deliberately introducing non-white migrants into Europe to supplant the white race.”

These tactics gradually delegitimize democracy; as a result, voters lose trust in their government, the media, and elections, becoming more susceptible to authoritarian ideas. Further, in regions where AfD is the strongest, such as Saxony and Thuringia, hate crimes and political intimidation against refugees, journalists, and even public officials have increased. The normalization of extremist rhetoric and violence has also blurred the line between political discourse and hate speech. 

The presence of AfD forces mainstream parties to adjust their rhetoric in turn; as a result, more centerist parties have adopted tougher stances on migration or national identity to avoid losing voters to AfD. This is one of the most dangerous signs of populist politics: when the center begins to echo extremism. 

If populist politics feed on fear and disconnection, then overcoming it requires reestablishing trust and inclusion in democratic institutions. The AfD has a highly fluid voter base, especially in East Germany, where political disillusionment runs deep. Many voters choose AfD not out of firm ideological convictions, but because they feel ignored or unrepresented by mainstream politics and media.  In a 2023 poll by DeutschlandTrend, “about two-thirds of those who supported AfD said they did so in protest of over other parties, rather than because they were convinced by the far right’s policies.” Increasing political polarization has caused many voters to avoid the center and vote instead for the far-left Greens party or for far-right AfD. A 2024 European Council on Foreign Relations public opinion poll highlighted immigration at the most important issue shaping how Germans look at their future. Centrist parties, however, have developed no clear approach to immigration, some “adopting populist and AfD-lite tactics and creating internal divisions.” Rather than uniting, this pushes voters already disillusioned with the centrist parties further towards the AfD, while AfD voters are not likely to won back by underdeveloped version of AfD’s policy stances. 

Political scientist Teresa Völker finds in her study that “when mainstream parties mimic the anti-immigration rhetoric of the far right, they bring such ideas from the fringes into the mainstream debate,” thereby legitimizing the far-right’s demands. A study by Cambridge University in 2025 found that accommodating far-right agendas instead leads to more voters defecting to the radical right, with the effect being more pronounced when the far-right pary is more established. 

Thus, this breakdown between the party in charge and the voters leads to voters turning to alternative media and the AfD. Echoing the American-German Institute (AGI), political success depends on seeking “proximity to the lives of citizens.” Centrist parties should address issues such as housing shortages, healthcare access, and local economic development, and not simply copy AfD’s stance as an attempt to win back voters. By focusing on practical results and distinct stances, democratic parties can regain credibility from the AfD. The AGI puts it best: “People vote for parties that get things done.”

Ultimately, democracy’s resilience depends on addressing conditions that make extremism attractive, rather than suppressing dissent. The past must be confronted, not as a history lesson in a textbook, but as a living reminder of how fragile democracy can be. 

The rise in AfD’s popularity indicates that nationalism can never truly be eradicated; instead, it lies dormant, waiting for fear of change and social division to revitalize it. Germany’s history demonstrates to all of us how easily democratic institutions can break down when citizens lose trust in each other and their leaders. AfD’s capitalization on the swirling resentment and harkening to past traditional roles represents a test to Germany’s post-war constitution and its ability to prevent another far-right rise to power. 

Yet history need not repeat itself. If Germany’s centrist and democratic forces can rebuild citizens’ trust, they can restore the promise of a society in which everyone, regardless of background or situation, is accepted. Beyond defeating AfD at the ballot box, Germany’s goal should be to address the conditions that allow its messages to take root with its citizens; democracy cannot endure through complacency. 

Germany has faced this test before. The world is watching again to see if this time, it will pass.

1. Bonikowski, Bart. 2016. “Background to Brexit: Populism, Nationalism, and the Politics of Resentment.” Epicenter: Harvard University. ↩︎
2. Ibid. ↩︎
3. Gournari, Panayota. 2018. “Authoritarianism, Discourse, and Social Media: Trump as the ‘American Agitator.” Critical Theory and Authoritarian Populism, 207–228. ↩︎

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: AfD, Image sourced from Heute | CC License, no changes made

Introduction 

This January, the hyper-conservative Alternative für Deutschland (AfD) party in Germany released its latest–and most controversial–manifesto: a 94 page document detailing their vision for the country’s future. The piece addresses everything from university funding, to genetic engineering, to the efficacy of the Euro. But part of what makes it such a catalyst for discourse is its seventh chapter. This section is titled, “Culture, Language and Identity,” and discusses regulations for media, language, and, most strangely, religious and Germanic cultural loyalty.

Chapter Seven, to most, seems out of place in a 2025 manifesto. After all, it might fit better among the Nazi’s extreme nationalist and antisemetic rhetoric of the 1930s and 1940s. It does not help that the AfD has already faced scrutiny on the global stage for employing similar language to that of the Nazi party in other official communications. For instance, the leader of the AfD in 2021, Björn Höcke, was tried and fined for proudly shouting Nazi slogan, “Everything for Germany!” in one of his speeches.

Today, we cringe to compare anything to the horrors of Nazism, and, indeed, Germany’s current political and economic state is not a perfect mirror for what it was one hundred years ago. Yet, the social and political echoes between the Nazi Party in the 1930s and today’s far-right AfD are too stark to ignore, both in and outside of their manifesto. To do so would risk turning every historian’s nightmare into reality: allowing Germany’s legacy of racial hatred and nationalist extremism to resurface.

Social

Perhaps the most concerning thing one can see in any political party is a strong sense of hatred for a group of people based on ethnicity, gender, religion, etc. It is–or should be–the first and most obvious warning sign that such a party poses a threat to the lives and livelihoods of those they target.

The Nazi party made their social stance rather clear: anything non-traditional or non-German was an enemy of the state and had to be eliminated.

Similarly, in Germany today there is a strong push to return to the traditional. Recent changes in what marriage, gender, race dynamics, etc. look like have given pause to conservatives everywhere trying to contend with this new world outlook. Still, the ability for LGBTQ+ couples to marry, for women to enjoy full equality to men, or for religious minorities to practice have been accepted in most places globally. Yet, the AfD places itself rather firmly against these things, just like the Nazi party once did.

For the sake of exercise, let us compare two statements, one from the AfD’s manifesto and another from a 1923 interview with Adolf Hitler:

“[Religion X] does not belong to Germany.”

“The [Y Religious Group] are not German. They are an alien people in our midst.”

Without the context filled in of which religious group is being targeted, the statements are identical in sentiment. In context, the first is read: “Islam does not belong to Germany” and comes from the AfD. The second reads: “The Jews are not German. They are an alien people in our midst” and is from Hitler’s interview.

If that were not bad enough, the AfD’s manifesto boasts many more sentiments reminiscent of those held by Nazis regarding Jews–this time targeting Muslims. For instance, chapter seven of the AfD’s manifesto, which was discussed briefly in the introduction, boasts a disturbing number of subsections dedicated to the erasure of Islam in Germany under the guise of “Culture, Language, and Identity” regulations. To demonstrate, a selection of the chapter’s subsections includes: “Islam and its Tense Relationship with our Value System”, “Tolerate Criticism of Islam,” “No Full-Body Veiling in Public Spaces,” and, “No Public Body Status for Islamic Organizations.” Chapter 8, which focuses on education, goes on to include, “Close Qur’an Schools and Integrate Islamic Studies in Ethics Education” and “No Special Rights for Muslim Pupils.” There is also a ban suggested on slaughtering animals in such a way that makes them Halal or Kosher in the manifesto’s thirteenth chapter, which would prevent Jews and Muslims from being able to eat German meat.

Beyond the glaring similarities between Nazi and AfD sentiment as it relates to religious minorities, views on other conservative issues are also similar. For instance, the role of women and men in the military. Let us repeat the exercise from before with one statement coming from the AfD and one from a Nazi official:

“We consider military service to be the duty of all young men, irrespective their social background…Women shall have the opportunity to perform military service on a voluntary basis.”

“It has always been our chief article of fact that woman’s place is in the home – but since the whole of Germany is our home we must serve her wherever we can best do so.”

Admittedly, the language of the time makes it a bit easier to tell here that the first quote comes from the AfD’s manifesto while the second comes from Gertrud Scholtz-Klink–a female leader in the Nazi party. But, this exercise is a disturbing one. Through it, concerning parallels between the hyper-conservative, nationalist movements of the Nazi party become intimately linked to the same hyper-conservative, nationalist movements of the AfD. 

Of course, one must be careful when generalizing these similarities too much. After all, much of the racial cleansing, deeply sexist, explicitly hostile language present in Nazi rhetoric would cause global outrage if it were to be used by the AfD. But, any level of similarity–especially as it relates to the deeply congruent language used about Muslims today that was used about Jews in the 1930s–should raise alarms for the international community. 

Political 

Now, it is true that, when contained, these dangerous ideologies seem ridiculous and relatively unthreatening. Indeed, in its 2013 debut general election, the AfD gained a measly 2% of votes. But, it should be noted that, in 1924, the Nazi party, too, received only 3% of votes. By 1932, they had raised that number to a parliamentary majority of 37.3%. Similarly, as of October 2025, the AfD holds a tie for the majority of votes in Germany at an alarming 26%.

Parties like these are extremely problematic because they do not remain unpopular. Instead, they target underprivileged, desperate groups, make supporters of them, and, before one remembers how destructive the party’s social policies are to minorities and global progress, the party is ruling the country.

In the 1920’s and 1930’s, Hitler’s method of gaining support was simple: take advantage of a desperate country, a party in power that was failing to satisfy its people, and, frankly, charm to convince the nation that the Nazi party was their only salvation. He did this primarily through the media, making use of the radio before and during his control of Germany while also visiting various parts of the nation in person to deliver passionate speeches. The people, who were promised that he was their savior and who heard from him frequently, began to identify with this new leader who was meeting them where they were and promising to solve their problems. Thus, the Nazi party rose.

Today, one does not have to look far to find this similar sort of populist rhetoric used to gain power. Indeed, the AfD has taken the same path to their prominence. With them, instead of using radio broadcasts and speeches, the fight for political relevancy has taken mostly to TikTok and the internet. Because these platforms are so rapidly changing and allow for targeted marketing, it is much easier for the AfD to curate their messages to address issues that will gain them the most support/attention in the moment and to curate their messaging to vulnerable groups likely to be receptive. This being done, it has followed that the AfD is very popular on social media, boasting 370,000 followers on Instagram and 676,400 on TikTok–impressive when compared to the measly 210,000 followers on Instagram and 95,900 on TikTok that the AfD’s main competitor, the Christian Democratic Union of Germany (CDU), holds.

These platforms in particular being among the AfD’s strongest is no mistake. Instead, it is a way of targeting the youth, who are especially vulnerable to the struggles with housing, employment, and education in Germany at the moment. TikTok’s largest age demographic is between the ages of 25-34–a group who would relate perfectly to the AfD’s push for supporting new families and reallocating immigrant benefits to young Germans. Meanwhile, Instagram’s largest age bucket ranges from 18-24, including those who might relate to the AfD’s desire to lower housing costs or to expand participation in democracy to all–no years of experience causing one’s voice to be more meaningful than another’s. All that considered, it is easy for voters to lose the fine print of religious discrimination and harsh traditionalism today with the AfD just like it was easy to do the same in the 1930s with the Nazis. 

Of course, the AfD and CDU, among other smaller political parties in Germany, also make use of national television, print media, and radio to gain supporters. However, these forms of marketing mostly target older populations who have already had years to become loyal to their political parties and are unlikely to change their long-held beliefs. Thus, especially with these mediums becoming obsolete and failing to appeal to the “common man” the same way social media does under a populist marketing strategy, they are not quite as prevalent or dangerous as the AfD’s deeply effective use of platforms like Instagram and TikTok. 

It is precisely for this tactful development of popular support paired with extreme traditionalism and religious hatred that deep care must be taken to ensure the AfD does not abuse the influence it has gained. 

Conclusion

When World War Two ended, the international community promised it would not forget the millions who were killed, displaced, and traumatized by the Nazi regime. In many ways, it has lived up to that. Today, monuments, museums, and people everywhere dedicate themselves to ensuring everyone can learn from the mistakes of our past such that we do not repeat them. But, fewer are bringing to light parties which mirror the rhetoric and political strategy of that which once devastated Europe and the world. The German AfD is easy to select because it shares the same country of origin, a clear hatred for religious minorities and non-traditionality, and a populist strategy for gaining popularity as the Nazi party. But, a wave of hyper-conservativism is crashing over the world, from the Rassemblement National party in France to the Bharatiya Janata Party in India. Ignoring this and allowing it to continue unchecked is a grave mistake.

In the words of President Eisenhower: our purpose is “to guard vigilantly against the domination ever again of any part of the world by a single, unbridled aggressive power.” Only by identifying and holding these powers–the AfD and otherwise–accountable can we hope to remain free from the chains of injustice.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: AfD, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

From Roman aqueducts to the Eiffel Tower to Moscow’s Metro, throughout history elites have presented major public projects as symbols of national greatness. Unlike “appearance-based” monuments, such projects aim to unite their scale and functionality to create national emblems and validate the efficiency of the political class. Modern times are not immune to this practice: the Kanal Istanbul project announcement and the “Sicily Bridge,” explored here, are coherent examples.

The proposal to connect Sicily to mainland Italy through a bridge across the Strait of Messina is not a novelty in the Italian political landscape. This idea has circulated among decision-makers since the unification period, although it was abandoned due to financial and structural concerns. After a long-lasting bureaucratic and political discourse dating back to the 1960s which involved doubts, instrumentalisations, and sudden route changes according to the vision of different governments, 2025 marked the arrival of the construction plan’s preliminary confirmation, deemed a historical milestone by the Deputy Prime Minister and Transport Minister Matteo Salvini. 

The overly celebrative storytelling about the approval, paradoxically spread by the same political groups which used to oppose it, is directly linked to the project’s previous tribulations and the current government’s desire for grandeur. In fact, the bridge  now serves as a megaphone for the governing coalition to collect and amplify certain messages. For example, Salvini repeatedly announced on social media that there is an intent to revive a “past glory” by replicating Roman infrastructures; moreover, he stated that a hypothetical “mafia defeat” would come from regional development and the alleged creation of 120,000 jobs prompted by the bridge project.

The reality is, at best, quite far from such idealised representations. Rumors that organised crime may infiltrate the construction have sparked out even from Meloni’s right-wing coalition members. According to Member of Parliament Calderone, the bridge’s realisation will involve great investments, which can increase the risk of corruption in the local administration and of criminal organizations infiltrating public tenders. Concerning the job creation estimates, they have been prudently revised by some observers. Additionally, several “no-bridge” groups have attracted more support since the latest project approval. Their many protests underscore the creation of a rather odd circumstance for Sicily and Calabria regions, where a pompous and expensive bridge is supposed to coexist with numerous ignored internal viability problems.

Despite divergent opinions, one thing is certain: if built, the Sicily Bridge would become the longest suspension bridge in Europe. Such a record represents a great victory for the government, which aims to be remembered for achieving it regardless of the actual impact the bridge can have.

Two main factors can explain why Salvini and the ruling coalition need this victory as a political communication tool. To begin with, the bridge would boost the League party’s current status. Initially denominated Northern League, this group sustained Northern Italy’s independence in the past. Salvini’s shift from strictly regional to national identitarianism, connected to the steady support loss since his power apex in 2018-2019, shows how an attempt to regain support can be made by reshaping the Messina Bridge into a symbol of commitment in favour of the proverbially neglected Southern regions.

Moreover, the party’s instability is worsened by the increasing popularity of Roberto Vannacci, a former army officer and current member of the European Parliament, whose political career has been endorsed by Salvini himself and who can now challenge his role. The successful construction of the bridge can, in this case as well, be used to remark Salvini’s leadership and the League’s success.

The second factor is the recent NATO agreement, in which members agreed to increase their defense budgets  to 5% of their gross domestic product. Regarding this, Italy is under “special observation” by NATO, as it was among the latest to reach the previous 2% GDP target. Therefore, Italy has been called to resolve a crucial dilemma: on the one side, the need to provide President Trump with guarantees of being able to face the new defense effort; on the other, the obligation to face the lack of financial resources to allocate to the military.

The Messina Bridge, with an approved budget of 13.5 billion euros, has presented Meloni’s government with the occasion to be among the first countries to reach the new infrastructural target (1.5% of the total 5% GDP defense allocation) and to showcase the country’s power without irritating the public opinion any further. Or, at least, so it was thought. As a matter of fact, the idea was met with harsh criticism almost immediately: its dismissal by NATO allies, especially the United States, has caught the Italian government unprepared and forced it to change plans.

Both of these reasons help highlight the government’s aim to make the Sicily Bridge project a strong political tool at all costs, exploiting its perceived aura of greatness and seemingly transforming it into the solution to all problems. A swift cost-benefit analysis tends to a negative balance for the current state of affairs. The possibility to end the bridge’s long path to approval blinded the government, which focused on speeding up the project. Furthermore, the potential losses of the project were underestimated: the harsh criticism of the bridge from the ruling coalition and the general public alongside the failed endeavor to include the bridge building budget in the new NATO target posed unexpected challenges. 

While this ongoing process can still evolve positively, the miscalculated negative sociopolitical effects must be acknowledged. Nevertheless, through a sunk cost fallacy, it is unlikely for the project to be stopped at this point: as the Court of Auditors temporarily blocked the project on October 29th due to discrepancies in the project’s authorizations and safety regulations, the government accused it of stalling the bridge’s construction because of pressures by the opposition. Thus, the question persists: are then the political narratives about the bridge more important to the government than the modalities and consequences of its construction?

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Sicily, Image sourced from Rusi | CC License, no changes made

Populism is everywhere—and nowhere at the same time. Chávez, Iglesias, Le Pen, and Trump, are just some examples of the politicians considered to be populist by the general public. Yet, it seems rather complicated to find a connection between all these characters. Nowadays, populism has undergone what might be called a semantic democratization as everyone uses it—the press, the citizens, the politicians—giving the impression that they have a clear idea of what they are talking about. However, it does not seem that there is an agreement on what populism truly means, and who can be called a populist. 

The general critique towards the use of this concept is that it is too vague, almost like a “joker” term that one can use for situations with no apparent connection. The current context shows that there are several cases with highly different characteristics that are labeled as populist. In fact, while in the European continent, the populist phenomenon is usually associated with right wing parties, there is one case that proved to be different. The case of Spain’s Podemos far left wing party, shows that populism is both a democratic tool and a concept at risk of losing meaning.

Following the 2008 financial crisis, widespread discontent in Spain emerged due to austerity measures, high unemployment and political corruption. This discontent gave rise to the Indignados movement, in which citizens demanded broader political representation and economic solutions to the crisis. A new political figure, Pablo Iglesias, tapped into these grievances by calling the political elites la casta—a term symbolizing corruption, self-interest, and detachment from the struggles of the citizens. Unidas Podemos, Pablo Iglesia’s party, emerged as a far-left party that wanted to represent the interest of “the people” that were suffering the austerity measures and were not represented in the parliament.

 This rhetoric transformed fragmented grievances into a shared identity, “the people,” who stood in opposition to la casta. This approach demonstrated how the concept of populism leverages existing discontent to create powerful and cohesive political identities. Nonetheless, can we consider Pablo Iglesias bolstering of the Indignados movement in Spain a case of populism in Europe? Some Spanish speaking philosophers that have studied this social phenomenon would say yes. 

Although it is complicated to find similarities between populist movements, Ernesto Laclau’s theory defends that there is a common aspect: a dichotomous presentation of society between “the people” and “the elites.”¹ Laclau emphasizes that populism transforms diverse and fragmented demands into a unified collective identity by linking them through “equivalential chains.” These chains generate a shared framework of opposition that positions “the elite” as the common adversary. 

As previously mentioned, Iglesias gained popularity by labeling the Spanish political elite as la casta. This term has a high negative connotation to it in Spanish and has been used also by other politicians recently such as Javier Miley in Argentina. Indeed, context helped Podemos to gain national and international awareness, it is during this process of popularization inside Spain and internationally that “the people” that Podemos is referring to become an inclusive and plural identity.

However, portraying “the people” as a single, unified entity with a common will tends to obscure the internal tensions and ideological diversity present within society.² As a result, the binary division proposed by many theorists of populism risks oversimplifying the complex sociological realities of modern democracies. 

In the case of the Podemos, Iglesias and Errejón represent some of the internal tensions within the party itself. On one hand, Iglesias embraced the dichotomous political discourse between the casta and “the people,” seeking tension between both and pursuing antagonism rather than agonism. On the other hand, Errejón advocated for a more agonistic vision and less division of society to reach a greater number of voters. These contrasting approaches reflect a deep ideological split within Podemos. 

Indeed, judging the entirety of Podemos as populist poses a risk, as it does not allow for the same depth of understanding of the party’s internal dynamics as well as the unique characteristics of its members. Precision is what allows analysts to better understand decisions made by politicians and analyze political movements in greater depth. Therefore, the concept of populism loses utility due to its lack of understanding of the internal divisions within the same political movement or party.

Moreover, Chantal Mouffe’s theory of agonistic pluralism, which offers another lens to understand how populism functions in fragmented democracies, argues that politics is inherently conflictual and thrives on the articulation of opposing visions of society, hence, the role of democracy is to create spaces where diverse voices can engage in meaningful contestation.³ Populism, when inclusive, can foster agonistic spaces by mobilizing diverse social groups around shared struggles, while still recognizing their differences.

However, Pablo Iglesias was not known in Spain for promoting an inclusive and positive type of populism. In 2021, Iglesias had to leave the party he had founded ten years earlier, and a new leader had to occupy the vacant position. Íñigo Errejón, one of the co-founders and strategists of Podemos, applied Mouffe’s principles by promoting an inclusive vision of “the people.” In fact, Errejón sought to appeal to a wider demographic beyond the traditional left, targeting citizens alienated by the failure of mainstream parties like PSOE (Spanish Socialist Workers’ Party) and PP (People’s Party).⁴ He also targeted younger generations that were facing precarious employment and systemic inequality. Unlike Pablo Iglesias’s confrontational approach, Íñigo Errejón sought to broaden Podemos’s appeal by framing it as a unifying force. Errejón’s strategy highlights how populism, understood through Mouffe’s lens, can act as a tool for building broad-based democratic coalitions.

Populism lacks a fully developed ideology, which allows it to attach itself to different “host ideologies” depending on the sociopolitical context. Cas Mudde argues that applying the same signifier to label ideologically opposing actors’ risks confusing their distinct political projects and obscuring the nuances of their actions. 

For instance, in Europe, two parties labeled as populist demonstrate this issue. The left-wing Podemos advocates for social justice and defines “the people” broadly, including working class and minorities. In contrast, Marine Le Pen’s party in France promotes nationalism, defining “the people” narrowly based on nationality. What do these two political agents have in common to both be considered populist? Where is the utility in calling them by the same name? These stark ideological differences question the utility of grouping such distinct movements under the same term.

Considering what has been mentioned until now, the term populism does not seem to define Podemos’ ideology farther than explaining its dichotomic representation of society. Jan-Werner Müller argues that populism is increasingly used as a vague and pejorative label—one that replaces older terms like “demagogic” or “destabilizing.”⁵ This framing suggests that the term populism is no longer used as something with clear substance and definition, but rather as a multi-purpose argument against our political enemies to discredit their ideas. According to Müller, populism is not necessarily bad, as it can also act as a corrective that highlights the disconnection between elites and people and how all interests must be represented in a democracy.

In Spain, both far-right and far-left parties are often labeled populist. When Podemos gained parliamentary power in 2015, PSOE used this label to discredit them and protect their voter base. Rather than engaging with Podemos’s policy positions (which were similar to PSOE’s), critics focused on attacking their leaders as populists. This dismissive framing reduced serious policy discussions about economic inequality, housing, and corruption to mere rhetorical disputes. Conversely, in later elections both parties have formed coalitions to govern the country, proving that populism nowadays is used as an insult rather than an adjective carefully selected to define a political figure. 

Hence, the assumption that everything defined as populist is bad limits its democratic capacity for action. In other words, instead of trying to understand the ideas defended by “populist” leaders, people focus on the populist label and whether or not they agree with its use depending on whether the politician or party aligns with their ideals. 

The case of Podemos shows that populism is neither inherently dangerous nor inherently democratic—it is a mirror of political discontent. In Spain, populist rhetoric gave voice to real grievances and helped channel frustration into participation. Yet as the label spread to movements of opposing ideologies, it lost the clarity that once made it useful.

To understand contemporary politics, we should treat populism not as a fixed ideology but as a logic of representation: a way of defining “the people” against perceived elites. Whether that logic strengthens or undermines democracy depends on the values it carries. The challenge is not to abandon the term but to use it with precision—to recognize when it mobilizes citizens for inclusion, and when it merely fuels division.

1.  Laclau, Ernesto. On Populist Reason. Verso. London/New York, 2005. ↩︎
2.  Linden, Felipe Rafael. “How ‘Empty’ Is the Signifier ‘the People’? Impasses of the Poststructuralist Approach in Ernesto Laclau’s Political Ontology.” Journal of Political Ideologies 30 (2): 327–51, 2023. doi:10.1080/13569317.2023.2230449. ↩︎
3.  Mouffe, Chantale. For a Left Populism. Verso. London/New York, 2018. ↩︎
4.  ERREJON, Inigo y Chantal [intro by Owen Jones] MOUFFE. Podemos: In the Name of the People. Lawrence & Wishart, Limited, 2016. ↩︎
5. Ibid. ↩︎

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Podemos, Image sourced from Flickr | CC License, no changes made

Multiculturalism emerged at the forefront of Western Europe after the Second World War, gaining prominence during decolonization and the post-war flow of labor migrants. Introduced as a model that acknowledged difference while preserving equal citizenship, multiculturalism gained momentum in Britain, Canada, and later across Europe. Subsequently, several European states adopted components of multicultural policy by the 1980s and 1990s. For instance, Britain encouraged ethnic community associations. The Netherlands, on the other hand, pursued a form of “pillarization,” allowing communities to keep their own schools and cultural institutions. Germany took a different approach,  gradually shifting from a guest-worker approach toward recognizing permanent immigrants. For a while, these changes looked like progress for liberal democracy.

In the past two decades, however, this vision has come under heavy strain. In 2010, Chancellor Angela Merkel said that multiculturalism in Germany had “utterly failed.” Likewise, in 2011, then British Prime Minister David Cameron criticized what he called “state multiculturalism.” Together, these incidents represented the hidden growing unease within European societies related to immigration and diversity that it might indeed be weakening the social fabric.

The Rise of the Backlash

From the PEGIDA marches in Dresden to the populist energy behind Brexit in 2016, Europe has witnessed a surge of anti-immigrant rallies and movements. The electoral strength of figures such as Marine Le Pen in France or the Alternative für Deutschland in Germany reflects a deeper cultural anxiety running through these societies. Political scientist Cas Mudde has shown how the populist right depicts multiculturalism as an elite project that overlooks ordinary citizens’ concerns, and argues that many people feel a loss of cultural continuity, pressure on welfare systems, and job insecurity.

Opposition to immigration is often framed by those participating in these rallies as a defence of sovereignty and stability rather than hatred. Amidst this, Christian Joppke notes that many Europeans saw multiculturalism as creating parallel societies and feared that minorities were not integrating, but rather were isolating themselves. This has been particularly evident in France, where the republican model emphasises on strict secularism; visible religious or cultural differences, particularly among Muslim communities, have often been seen as clashing with national identity.

Does This Mean Multiculturalism Failed?

It is very tempting to read anti-immigrant mobilization as an indication that multiculturalism has failed. Such a deduction, however, is based on a misreading of the idea of multiculturalism and reflects a flawed understanding. A closer look at this makes it apparent that the fault may lie less with the idea itself and more with its partial implementation. Notably, on this matter, Tariq Modood argued that multiculturalism was often narrowed to symbolic gestures like recognition of holidays or foods, without tackling deeper inequalities in housing, education, and political voice. Furthermore, in this regard, Nancy Fraser’s “redistribution-recognition dilemma” also provides a useful perspective, which states that recognising cultural difference without economic redistribution makes minorities visible but keeps them marginalised.

Making matters worse, incidents such as the London bombings in 2005 and the murder of Dutch filmmaker Theo van Gogh in 2004 provoked panic. Ultimately, it led governments to retreat from multicultural policies. However, this approach of abandoning multiculturalism entirely can undeniably risk poor management being confused with an impossible ideal. To that end, some argue that Europe never fully committed to multicultural demands, as it treated multiculturalism as optional tolerance rather than as a structural rethinking of democracy.

Tracing the Fears Behind the Movement

At the same time, it is worth mentioning that simply dismissing the anxieties behind anti-immigrant movements as wholly irrational is unfair, as rapid demographic change indeed unsettles social norms. This was evident during the Syrian refugee crisis of 2015. During this crisis, over a million asylum seekers entered Europe, which eventually led to strained housing, welfare, and schools. In this regard, that is, during periods of economic austerity, these pressures are felt most by the working class, who may then see immigration as competition rather than enrichment. Ricard Zapata-Barrero hereby notes that when states fail to craft effective integration policies, diversity can then be linked to insecurity, thus boosting populist backlash. The debate, therefore, should not be merely seen as a litmus test of right versus wrong, because anti-immigrant mobilization highlights genuine policy failures even where its rhetoric distorts or scapegoats.

A Global Mirror: The United States

This isn’t unique to Europe. Long described as a “nation of immigrants,” the United States also struggles with the contradictions of multiculturalism. Even though the 1960s civil rights movement further pushed the country toward stronger ideals of racial and cultural equality, anti-immigrant sentiment still managed to emerge later, as evident from the recent “build the wall” campaign to violent episodes like Charlottesville in 2017, all thereby echoing European anxieties. Intensifying this scenario, President Trump, in late May 2025, announced restrictions on foreign student visas at Harvard University and revoked Harvard’s certification under the Student and Exchange Visitor Program (SEVP). This now bars the university from enrolling international students and forces existing F-1 students to transfer or lose status. However, some signal this as another move towards America’s continuing nationalist retreat, in line with “America First” and its withdrawal from global affairs. While others believe this policy to be based on the notion that multiculturalism fragments the nation. Yet a few argue that diversity fuels creativity and growth.

Lessons from India’s Experiment

India presents an important comparison in this context. India managed extraordinary diversity as early as 1950, even before the West embraced multiculturalism. Back in 1950, the Constitution of India recognised multiple languages, protected minority religions, and sought to combine secularism with pluralism. In addition to this, the founding fathers designed legal safeguards for caste and religious minorities in the Constitution. It is also pertinent to note that Indian secularism differs from the Western model. This is supported by the fact that, unlike the Western model, Indian secularism balances equal respect with minority rights, instead of an absolute separation of religion and state.

India’s experience makes one thing clear: multiculturalism must be based in constitutional and institutional structures. However, at times, even this balance can become fragile. For example, a few critics believe that India’s pluralistic model is now under threat, thereby suggesting that multiculturalism, even where it is foundational, requires constant defence and therefore establishes a very real possibility that multiculturalism is not a one-time achievement, but rather, a continuing negotiation.

The Future of Belonging

Anti-immigrant rallies across Europe do not necessarily signal the death of multiculturalism. In contrast, they reveal an underlying tension that is yet to be resolved between ideals of equality and fears about identity loss. This tension would only be exacerbated if multiculturalism were abandoned totally. Moreover, doing so would further risk retreating into ethno-nationalism. Defending it, however, would require the states to go beyond token recognition to real equality and civic participation. Amidst this, some suggest that it’s high time that the policy of interculturalism is embraced, which focuses not only on recognition of difference but also on shared projects and dialogue.

The more likely truth is to accept the paradox, i.e., multiculturalism is both indispensable and incomplete; it is indispensable because diverse societies need recognition and respect to function, while at the same time, it is incomplete as each generation must adapt it to new realities.

In this regard, it is clear that the perception of multiculturalism needs to be revisited. The states must move beyond symbolic recognition to substantive implementation, since token gestures not only fail to resolve such deep-rooted tensions but often exacerbate them, as evident from the recent developments. Ultimately, Europe, the United States, and India have all evidently shown that multiculturalism is not a stable endpoint but an ongoing struggle over the meaning of democracy and belonging.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Diversity Protests in Spain, Image sourced from Wikimedia Commons | CC License, no changes made

Since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, Ukraine has dominated contemporary strategic and war studies. Its territory has been mapped in detail, military operations scrutinized, and battles narrated in real time. Yet beneath the daily reporting lies an equally urgent, if less visible, struggle: Ukraine is not only fighting for its territory, but for its future minds. Millions of Ukraine’s active citizens, skilled workers, students, scholars, and emerging professionals have fled war and uncertainty, creating a quiet crisis that could shape the nation’s future for generations.

Ukraine’s wartime displacement has reached an unprecedented scale. Since Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022, 6.9 million Ukrainian refugees have been recorded worldwide—many of them women, children, and, most notably, young people. Around 1.3 million minors have EU temporary protection, and 700,000 attend EU schools, while over 85,000 Ukrainian university students study abroad. The issue is becoming increasingly pressing as the war shows no sign of ending. Polls conducted for the Center for Economic Strategy, a Ukrainian think tank, indicate that fewer than half of refugees plan to return while the share certain they will not return has risen from 10% to 34%. 

At first glance, these trends appear to seriously jeopardize the future of the Ukrainian nation and its capacity to recover after the war. They further deplete Ukraine’s already diminished scholarly and political elite, along with its high-skilled and educated workforce—groups essential for rebuilding and developing a country torn by war and facing prolonged strategic strain for the foreseeable future. Yet the question remains: is the picture truly as bleak as it appears, or can some opportunities still be found amid the crisis?

Ukraine’s wartime exodus has indeed drained its youth and talent, but it may paradoxically lay the groundwork for a new reformist elite while strengthening an already vast diaspora actively involved in the fight for Ukraine. Since the beginning of Russia’s full-scale invasion, millions of Ukrainians eager to contribute to their country’s struggle have joined established diaspora communities, quickly integrating into networks and structures devoted to advancing the Ukrainian cause. Many of Ukraine’s brightest minds have also gained unparalleled opportunities to pursue world-class education and training abroad, helping to cultivate the country’s future elite. Historical precedents show that even in times of upheaval, departing citizens continue to aid their homelands from abroad and later return to lead renewal when the moment is right. If effectively engaged, Ukraine’s globally connected generation could become one of Ukraine’s greatest strategic assets, driving its post-war recovery, reform, and integration into the Euro-Atlantic community.

The Driving Force of Ukrainians Abroad

Ukraine has a solid and influential diaspora, with around twenty million Ukrainians and people of Ukrainian descent worldwide, largely concentrated in Europe, Canada, and the United States. Since February 2022, millions of newly displaced Ukrainians have joined this community, with many eager to support their country’s defense and contribute to its recovery. The Ukrainian diaspora has mobilized the country’s resources, skills, and connections on a scale unprecedented in the nation’s history in order to organize aid deliveries, lobby governments, counter Russian propaganda, and lay the groundwork for Ukraine’s eventual reconstruction. 

The powerful support from Ukrainians abroad has become a vital pillar of the country’s resilience. Ukrainian-led and allied organizations have delivered money, food, medication, clothing, and protective gear for soldiers, while others have focused on assisting displaced Ukrainians and rehabilitating wounded veterans. Equally vital has been the diaspora’s advocacy and lobbying in the international arena. Ukrainians abroad have been organizing mass demonstrations in EU capitals and the United States to demand increased military aid and press for accountability for Russian war crimes, hosting film screenings and public debates to counter Russian propaganda, and convening conferences dedicated to Ukraine’s recovery agenda. 

The scale, diversity, and determination of the Ukrainian diaspora make it an indispensable asset in the country’s struggle for survival and future recovery. Its members have reinforced Ukraine’s resilience on every front of the war. The networks, expertise, and global credibility they have built will remain a source of strength long after the fighting ends. When the hostilities end and Ukraine turns to reconstruction, these communities abroad—experienced in advocacy, resource mobilization, and cross-border collaboration—will be uniquely positioned to channel investment, transfer skills, and contribute to Ukraine’s post-war recovery.

The Pool of Ukraine’s Next Reformers

History offers examples of countries in turmoil where, once the right moment was seized, returning elites transformed the state. Georgia, Ukraine’s post-Soviet peer, saw such a shift after the 2003–2004 Rose Revolution. The new president, Mikheil Saakashvili—a Columbia Law graduate—drew a generation of Western-educated reformers back home. In just a few years, they implemented anti-corruption measures once thought impossible, from dismantling the corrupt traffic police to streamlining bureaucracy, making Georgia one of the easiest places in the world to do business. While the country still faces challenges, its transformation remains among the most striking in the post-Soviet space, serving as a reminder that even a small, well-prepared group of returnees can reshape a nation.

Just as Georgia’s transformation after the Rose Revolution was driven by a wave of Western-educated returnees, Ukraine today is positioned to harness a similar dynamic. With many of its most talented and promising people now educated at leading global universities, active in anti-war and development projects, and enriched by the experience of living, working, and embracing Western values, Ukraine has a strong chance of seeing a similar wave of transformative returnees after the end of the war. Even today, many of its young policymakers and social leaders hold prestigious Western education and training, positioning them to play a decisive role in shaping Ukraine’s post-war transformation. 

In the years ahead, Ukrainian returnees could form the backbone of a new reformist generation, leveraging global networks to attract investment, modernize institutions, and integrate the country more firmly into Euro-Atlantic structures. Their international credibility and familiarity with best governance practices will be vital in advancing judicial reform, digital transformation, and anti-corruption efforts—securing post-war recovery, accelerating EU integration, and building a more resilient, competitive, and democratic state. 

Turning Displacement into a Strategic Asset

While the wartime exodus has drained Ukraine’s population, it also holds untapped potential. Host countries have provided Ukrainian refugees with unprecedented opportunities to live, study, and work in stable, well-resourced environments. Programs such as the EU’s Temporary Protection Directive, the UK’s Homes for Ukraine, and the U.S. Uniting for Ukraine have offered legal status, housing, healthcare, education, and access to the labor market. These conditions enable displaced Ukrainians not only to survive but to build careers, gain advanced education, and develop global networks that can be reinvested in Ukraine’s future. 

The impact of this opportunity is already visible. Ukrainians abroad are applying their Western expertise, training, and resources to critical areas of national need. Diaspora economic and social entrepreneurs are contributing in fields where reconstruction must meet evolving global standards—particularly in the context of EU accession. Expertise from the Ukrainian community in the United Kingdom has helped design a roadmap to rebuild and decarbonize Ukraine’s steel sector in line with the EU Green Deal. Similarly, the Mykolaiv Water Hub has drawn on the Ukrainian diaspora in Germany to spearhead innovative water-related industries in southern Ukraine. Such initiatives demonstrate how skills gained abroad can directly accelerate reconstruction and modernization.

Beyond economic expertise, the large and engaged diaspora strengthens Ukraine’s political resilience. Communities abroad have proven adept at advocacy, coalition-building, and resource mobilization — organizing some of the largest pro-Ukraine rallies in European capitals and North America since the war began, securing meetings with top policymakers, and influencing sanctions and aid decisions. They have mobilized millions of euros in humanitarian and military support, and spearheaded global campaigns to counter Russian disinformation. These wartime achievements have built networks and reputations that will be invaluable in peacetime, facilitating investment, technology transfer, and integration with international markets and institutions.

Moreover, today’s generation of displaced Ukrainians is acquiring advanced skills and leadership experience that position them to play a decisive role in the country’s future. Education at leading universities, training in competitive industries, and work within democratic institutions abroad can provide the expertise to reform governance, modernize the economy, and strengthen the rule of law. Exposure to transparent decision-making, independent media, and effective public administration can help them embed these practices at home. Georgia’s post-Rose Revolution returnees brought comparable skills and ambitions, but Ukraine’s dispersed talent pool is larger, more globally embedded, and benefiting from a wider range of opportunities and resources provided by host countries. If effectively engaged and given clear avenues to participate in rebuilding, this cohort could become the backbone of a reformist elite—capable of transforming institutions, accelerating EU integration, and developing a resilient democracy in Ukraine.

Displacement is undeniably a loss—but it is also an investment. The challenge for Ukraine is to turn this moment of crisis into a strategic advantage, ensuring that the skills, networks, and vision gained abroad return home. If it succeeds, the country’s greatest wartime outflow could become the very force that rebuilds it stronger, more competitive, and more firmly rooted in the Euro-Atlantic community.

Featured/Headline Image Caption and Citation: Ukrainian Flag, Image sourced from Flickr | CC License, no changes made