2026-02-19 23:41:28
Cuba is under more US pressure than at any point this century. Its regime is dealing with the consequences of US military action against its ally, Venezuela, and a subsequent shut down in oil supplies.
Power cuts and food shortages have spread across the island, while garbage is piling up on the streets. Reports suggest Secretary of State Marco Rubio has engaged in talks with the grandson of dictator Raul Castro about future ties.
That would very likely be a problem for Russia, which has cultivated close ties to the regime since the 1959 Cuban revolution. Unlike Venezuela, where the costs of a change in regime policy were relatively low, the Havana regime offers some serious assistance to the Kremlin’s work for global illiberalism.
So what is at stake?
In an era marked by democratic erosion, authoritarian revival, and geopolitical fragmentation and conflicts, the relationship between Russia and Cuba offers a revealing case of what scholars increasingly describe as autocratic cooperation.
Far from a nostalgic remnant of the Cold War, the Havana–Moscow axis illustrates how contemporary authoritarian regimes adapt, learn from one another, and coordinate across regions to resist liberal norms and sustain their rule. As we argued in a recent book (Scaling Authoritarian Influence: Russia, Cuba, and the Dynamics of Autocratic Cooperation in Latin America), this partnership is less about ideology alone than about the strategic exchange of resources, narratives, and practices that reinforce authoritarian resilience at home and abroad.
At first glance, the asymmetry between Russia and Cuba is striking. Russia is a nuclear-armed great power with global ambitions, while Cuba is a small Caribbean island of 11 million people enduring chronic economic crisis. Yet, their cooperation is not built on parity but on complementarity.
Each brings to the relationship distinct assets: Russia contributes energy, military support, intelligence cooperation, and global diplomatic shielding; Cuba contributes decades of experience in authoritarian governance, dense regional networks in Latin America, and an ability to operate as a trusted interlocutor with leftist and “progressive” movements across the so-called Global South.
This partnership can be best understood through the lens of autocratic cooperation: a deliberate, often asymmetric coordination among authoritarian regimes aimed at countering democratic pressures and promoting illiberal alternatives. Unlike classic alliance politics, this cooperation does not require ideological uniformity or formal treaties. Instead, it thrives on shared interests in regime survival, sovereignty without accountability, and resistance to Western-led norms of democracy and human rights.
Cuba exemplifies what Marianne Kneuer and Thomas Demmelhuber term Authoritarian Gravity Centers in their 2020 book of that name. For more than six decades, Havana has cultivated revolutionary legitimacy, a vast diplomatic apparatus disproportionate to its size, and networks of political, cultural, and professional exchange that bind sympathetic elites to the Cuban model. Through medical missions, educational programs, party-to-party ties, and activism in multilateral forums, Cuba exports not prosperity but know-how: techniques of social control, narratives of anti-imperialism, and strategies to hollow out democratic institutions while preserving a façade of legality.
Russia, by contrast, operates as both a regional gravity center in its post-Soviet neighborhood and, increasingly, as an “Authoritarian Global Promoter.” Under Vladimir Putin’s rule, Moscow has refined a repertoire including disinformation campaigns, elite capture, security assistance, and the use of energy and arms sales as political leverage. In Latin America, Russia’s reach is limited compared to that of the United States or China, but it is targeted and opportunistic — often working through media outlets, diplomatic coordination, and security cooperation with regimes already leaning toward authoritarianism.
The interaction between Russia and Cuba thus creates a mutually reinforcing cycle. Cuba helps Russia navigate Latin American political cultures, providing access to regional forums, sympathetic governments, and ideological allies. Russia, in turn, offers Cuba economic lifelines, strategic backing in international institutions, and symbolic validation as part of a broader anti-Western front. Their cooperation is visible in synchronized voting patterns at the United Nations, shared narratives condemning sanctions as “imperialist aggression,” and mutual support for embattled allies such as Venezuela and Nicaragua and for Russia’s war against Ukraine, where the US has estimated 1,000-5,000 men have joined the Kremlin’s forces.
Crucially, this relationship is not about exporting a single authoritarian blueprint. Rather, it is about normalizing authoritarian practices in a plural ideological environment. Russia’s conservative nationalism and Cuba’s revolutionary socialism differ sharply, yet both converge on core principles: rejection of liberal pluralism, hostility toward independent civil society, and the instrumental use of elections, law, and sovereignty discourse to entrench power. This ideological flexibility makes autocratic cooperation harder to detect and counter, as it adapts to local contexts and grievances.
The broader implication is sobering. Autocratic cooperation between Russia and Cuba demonstrates that authoritarian regimes are not merely reacting defensively to democratic pressure; they are actively shaping alternative international norms. By leveraging multilateral institutions, regional organizations, and transnational networks, they seek to erode the moral and institutional foundations of the liberal order from within. Latin America, with its history of inequality, institutional weakness, and ambivalent relationship with the United States, has proven particularly susceptible to these strategies.
Yet understanding these dynamics also points toward avenues for response. The very need for Russia and Cuba to invest so heavily in narratives, networks, and symbolic politics suggests that authoritarian appeal is neither automatic nor inevitable. Democratic nations — governments, civil society, and international organizations — can counter autocratic cooperation by strengthening institutional transparency, supporting independent media, and addressing the social and economic grievances that authoritarian narratives exploit.
The Russia–Cuba relationship, then, is not an anachronism but a warning. It shows how authoritarian regimes learn, cooperate, and adapt in a contested global order.
Ignoring these ties as marginal or purely rhetorical risks underestimating their cumulative impact. Taking them seriously is a necessary step in defending democratic norms in an increasingly illiberal and, in some cases, deeply anti-liberal world.
Armando Chaguaceda is a political Scientist and historian. He is currently Karl Loewenstein Fellow and Visiting Professor of Political Science at Amherst Collegeand Researcher in Government and Political Analysis AC (GAPAC), a think tank based in Mexico. He has specialized in the study of democratization and autocratization processes as well as the state-civil society relationship in Latin America and Russia.
Cesar E. Santos is a philosophy graduate and master in Social Sciences. He is a researcher at Government and Political Analysis AC (GAPAC), specializing in theory and praxis of illiberalism and Russia’s and China’s authoritarian influence in Latin America.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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2026-02-19 03:55:43
I left this year’s Munich Security Conference in a mood which diplomats would describe as “thoughtful.” We could call this progress, since my mood in previous years was famously gloomy.
The highlight was US Secretary of State Mark Rubio’s February 14 speech.
Opinions differ on whether this represented an outstretched hand to Europe and an invitation to converse, or just the same signaling but wrapped in fancy paper. Whichever side of that debate you are on, I think it’s a sideshow.
Consider this: While Europeans discuss what the latest American speech means, I don’t believe many Americans are discussing the speeches given by Europeans.
The meaning is clear — Europe is once again on the receiving end of a strategy imposed by others.
The current US administration has a very clear view of what “Western alliance” means, and that’s more aligned with the views of their President’s electorate than with those of the average European.
So even if the Rubio speech was indeed a call for conversation, it might be very short-lived. Europeans believe in individual freedoms, in free trade, believe that the countries constituting the European Union are sovereign, at most trust in climate science.
And if things are not working, Europeans tend to fix them via elections and smarter decisions, not revolutions — the current German administration took measures to curb migration, and others are doing likewise, and the European Commission is reversing some of its more extreme regulations. Europeans don’t feel like they are in civilizational decline. What they witness on their streets is very different from what some Americans see on sensationalist YouTube channels.
And we Europeans really do still believe in values. Values including democracy, the rule of law, and territorial integrity. Since the tragedies of World War II, a common understanding of these values has brought us together as a peaceful community. After centuries of war, we tend to jealously guard the values that brought us historically high levels of prosperity and stability.
Nobody forced the people of Europe to support Ukraine, or to receive millions of Ukrainian refugees, to raise billions of euros for Ukraine, or to vote for politicians who support Ukraine. But they overwhelmingly did, even though Russia’s TikTok influencers and Facebook fake accounts tried very hard to stop them.
So I don’t think that Europeans should preach, panic, or despair about the changes in the values of those running the United States. Every country is free to choose its worldview. The US has made its choice, and it isn’t asking for Europe’s input in its decision-making.
The corollary is that Europeans are also free; free to protect their core democratic values from whoever tries to undermine and corrupt them. Free to point out differences in values, and to explain to electorates why these differences matter.
Europe has to be ready to defend the values its vast majority holds dear.
Europe has to be prepared to help defend other democracies anywhere in the world if they are under attack (and they always are).
Europe has to be ready to cooperate closely with those who share our values.
Europe can, of course, cooperate with those who share our interests, but be mindful that interests do change — for example, trade can be made into a political weapon very quickly. Such pivots are less frequent when values are aligned.
Europe has to be ready to present its own version of the transatlantic agenda — a partnership, but without compromising on what is most important. And what is most important is values.
But can we achieve that?
There are still people upset and confused about the fact that Europe is not invited to the negotiations between the US, Russia, and Ukraine. But this, too, was a consequence of decisions Europe had made. It could have forced an invitation to such talks, but instead, leaders chose to dither and were then forced to accept other people’s decisions.
But it also needs to make the right decisions. For example, opening diplomatic channels to Putin would only produce yet another episode of European self-humiliation.
At some point, we must adopt solutions that actually work.
Europe is still sovereign, and still has its core values. Europeans have the capability to carpe diem, to seize the day and finally display all of our strength and resolve, at any time we choose. Europe also has the power to make strong and mutually beneficial alliances with those around the world who want to share our values.
I am thoughtfully suggesting we do all this sooner rather than later. That is the path to restoring our dignity while we still have the strength and values do so. We may not have that choice later on, when our influence in global affairs has declined further by our inaction, and things have become much worse.
Gabrielius Landsbergis was the Minister Foreign Affairs of Lithuania from 2020-2024 and had previously been a member of parliament. Winner of the 2025 Magnitsky Award for Outstanding Contribution to the Global Magnitsky Justice Campaign, he was born under Soviet occupation. He first tasted freedom as a child when the people of Lithuania, led by his grandfather Vytautas Landsbergis, faced Russian tanks to restore their independence. Beginning as a diplomat, he eventually won election to the European Parliament. Since leaving his political and diplomatic posts in 2024, he continues to leverage his communication skills to push back against despots and their collaborators. He also continues the conversation on social media and his own website landsbergis.com, where this article was first published.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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2026-02-19 02:32:02
It was a gala ceremony. In the Belgian university town of Leuven, the European Commission’s top tech official and the CEO of Dutch chips tool supplier ASML gathered at the modern headquarters of the Interuniversity Microelectronics Centre (Imec) to celebrate the inauguration of a €2.5 billion chips research hub.
The investment aims to cement the stranglehold of ASML’s chip printing machines that use extreme ultraviolet light to produce the world’s most advanced semiconductors. Imec houses research that allows ASML to build its machines — by 2030, the company aims to cram a trillion transistors into one sealed unit that snaps straight onto a circuit board.
At the opening, speakers countered the narrative of a backward continent fading into irrelevance. ASML holds around 90% of the advanced lithography market. Imec leads the world in research on exotic chipmaking materials. US chipmakers partner in Imec’s R&D programs, providing 75% of Imec’s budget. Taiwan’s TSMC tests out new designs in the Leuven laboratory. Imec’s CEO, Luc van den Hove, said the continent’s strengths “should create a kind of reverse dependencies towards European technology.”
Beyond lithography, Europe holds other chip chokepoints in power electronics, crucial for EVs, fast‑charging, and green grids. European chip companies Infineon, STMicroelectronics, and NXP together are among the top suppliers of automotive and industrial power semiconductors.
Admittedly, Europe’s chip ambitions face big challenges — fragmented national policies, limited leading‑edge volume, and talent shortages. The continent needs to stop attempting to catch up on manufacturing. Instead, it should strengthen its partnership with the UK, which is home to a world-class chip design infrastructure, and focus on its considerable strengths.
“Europe can own the ‘next’ generation of chips, not the last one,” argues Jalal Bagherli, Co-Chair of the UK Semiconductor Policy Advisory Panel and — full disclosure — my ex-boss. It “should stop chasing Taiwan on legacy CPU manufacturing and instead double down on new materials (Silicon Carbide, Gallium Arsenide), chiplets, photonics, edge AI, and system‑level design, where it already has structural strengths.”
The continent is investing in these strengths. The EU Chips Act mobilizes more than €43 billion of public and private investment, not to clone Taiwan’s TSMC, but to secure strategic segments. It is pouring €623 million into GlobalFoundries and X‑FAB to set up “first‑of‑a‑kind” specialty fabs in Dresden and Erfurt, targeting automotive, industrial, and Internet of Things chips. Another €2.2 billion will go to Franco-Italian STMicroelectronics to build what is described as the world’s first fully integrated silicon carbide device fab in Catania, Sicily, serving electric vehicle and industrial customers. And yet another €400 million will create a major European node for silicon carbide wafers and power devices in the Czech Republic. Yole’s automotive report notes that European chipmakers Infineon, NXP, and STM together account for nearly half the global automotive semiconductor market.
These projects will lock in Europe as a non‑Asian hub for the power and smart‑power chips that underpin electrification and industrial automation. A second‑phase “Chips Act 2.0” discussion focuses on turning these pilot lines and design hubs into permanent infrastructure so that European — and allied — companies can prototype and scale new chip architectures.
These strengths give Europe export‑control leverage. Since 2023, the Netherlands has required licenses for shipping ASML’s advanced tools to China, meaning decisions in The Hague and Brussels directly determine how far China can move up the semiconductor ladder.
European officials make the correct noises. They stress resilience over autarky: policy papers highlight cooperation with the US, Japan, and like‑minded partners. Although they insist that they are not considering weaponizing their chipmaking chokepoints, they acknowledge their potential utility in our increasingly “might makes right” world.
Europeans cannot rest on their present competitive advantage. They must keep moving ahead. One risk is technological — lithography, the basis for cutting-edge chipmaking, could be replaced by another technique. Some chip specialists have already hinted at etching as a more cost-effective alternative.
Europe must position itself in future supply chains. Northern Europe is building a coordinated semiconductor region: Nordic and Baltic countries are setting up linked competence centers, pooling education programs, R&D labs, and start‑up support. Cloudberry’s $35.2‑million specialized VC fund, based in Helsinki and London, targets compound‑semiconductor, photonics, and AI‑chip start‑ups that fit this “next‑generation chips” thesis.
It’s also important to include the UK, which brings world-class design. Cambridge-based Arm design the processor at the heart of almost all the world’s mobile phone chips. South Wales hosts strong designhouses and a leading compound‑semiconductor cluster. Commentators note that, taken together, Europe and the UK have a long history of leadership in “next‑generation chip” technologies. StrengthenedEU–UK coordination around pilot lines, export‑controls, and joint development would create a single, coherent European pillar.
For US policymakers, the implication is clear: working with Europe secures irreplaceable chip chokepoints, while export controls coordination over ASML tools keeps China from reaching the frontier. Europe represents an essential ally in de‑risking semiconductor supply chains and reducing long‑term dependency on Beijing
Christopher Cytera CEng MIET is a senior fellow with the Tech Policy Program at the Center for European Policy Analysis and a technology business executive with more than 30 years’ experience in semiconductors, electronics, communications, video, and imaging.
Bandwidth is CEPA’s online journal dedicated to advancing transatlantic cooperation on tech policy. All opinions expressed on Bandwidth are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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2026-02-19 00:31:37
NATO launched Operation Arctic Sentry (OAS) on February 11, an effort to bolster allied military presence and domain awareness across the wider Northern Flank of the alliance.
In the words of the Supreme Allied Commander Europe (SACEUR), US Air Force Gen. Alexus G. Grynkewich, the operation “underscores the alliance’s commitment to safeguard its members and maintain stability in one of the world’s most strategically significant and environmentally challenging areas.”
There’s a perfectly good case to be made for an increased focus on the High North, but the unheralded decision was as much about politics as military needs. Arctic Sentry represents an attempt to ease tensions over Greenland — which President Trump says he’s determined to incorporate into the US — as it is about strengthening NATO’s Northern flank.
According to the Trump administration, control of the island is vital to US national security interests, and its ownership would benefit the alliance to ward off Russia and China’s growing presence and cooperation in the Arctic.
For now, at least, talk of US military action has diminished. After some very public exchanges and a private Trump meeting with NATO’s Secretary General, it was agreed that the issue will be settled with a “framework of a future deal with respect to Greenland”. However, its form has yet to be announced.
But we shouldn’t lose sight of what matters. The Arctic, and more generally, NATO’s Northern flank, remains a critical region in which allied forces must once again adopt a stronger pace of both Joint exercises and deployments.
So the launch of Arctic Sentry is a positive step towards a more cohesive and permanent presence in the region, which many have been demanding for a while, but which will also have to be carefully articulated to avoid wasting valuable (and scarce) resources.
Arctic Sentry is aligned with the updated Alliance Maritime Strategy, under which NATO will employ sea power to provide credible nuclear deterrence, sea control and power projection, freedom of navigation, maneuver and action, and protection of sea lanes and maritime critical infrastructure.
As argued in a previous article discussing NATO’s presence and deterrence in the High North, beyond the individual capabilities of the Nordic nations and the various exercises currently held throughout the year, the alliance needs a stronger collective approach based on a more permanent presence.
As per NATO’s communiqué, the operation will serve as an umbrella for all initiatives and exercises in the Arctic, which include Denmark’s Arctic Endurance in Greenland, a series of multi-domain exercises designed to enhance allied ability to operate in the region, and Norway’s upcoming exercise Cold Response. The UK stated in February that it will double the deployment of Royal Marines in Norway to 2,000 this year to address what it described as a rising Russian threat.
Arctic Sentry will be led by Joint Force Command Norfolk (JFC Norfolk), which is responsible for the Arctic region and the alliance’s Northern flank as a whole. Its current commander is a US four-star officer, but will pass to a UK admiral for the first time as part of reforms to Europeanize NATO.
The announcement of the operation generated a wide variety of reactions from Arctic scholars and analysts. Some consider that “if there’s a lot of manpower . . . especially if it’s in Greenland, then it will come up expensive”, while Sino-Russian cooperation in the region is still seen by many as “largely symbolic.”
While those observations are true, Arctic Sentry provides a great opportunity to unify all initiatives in the region. If efficiently managed and employed to coordinate existing initiatives, including deployments of MARCOM’s Standing Maritime Group 1 (SNMG 1) across the wider North Atlantic, the alliance stands to gain much more than just quieting the Trump administration.
Other national initiatives, such as the UK’s Atlantic Bastion (designed to use new technologies, including unmanned systems, to counter enemy submarines) showcase a renewed push to strengthen allied sea power in the region and will likely add to what OAS can do over the coming months and years.
More importantly, naval deployments and joint multidomain exercises will also contribute to the ability of NATO forces to deploy and operate in the harsh Arctic environment. Polar conditions make for one of the most challenging environments to operate in due to risks presented by unpredictable weather and climate factors, which also extends to warships, aircrafts and most military equipment.
As highlighted by Arctic expert Elizabeth Buchanan: “The alliance has enduring strategic interests in the High North across challenges related to climate change, critical infrastructure (in)security, data and sea cable security, fisheries, as well as the security of sea lines of communication.”
Consequently, the waters of the Arctic and the North Atlantic are now as strategically important to NATO as any other flank. Efforts to bolster presence and training in the region, then, must be welcomed as a positive addition to the alliance’s ability and willingness to address enemy threats.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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2026-02-18 23:14:13
Accelerating European Union (EU) membership for the Western Balkans would be a clear demonstration of the continent’s strength at a moment when transatlantic relations are being recalibrated.
Enlargement is not charity; it is strategy. By extending the EU’s zone of peace, democratic governance, and economic integration to Southeast Europe, the EU signals to Washington that it is capable of consolidating its own neighborhood and emerging as a more coherent geopolitical actor.
That signal is precisely what recent US legislation on the Western Balkans promotes, what Secretary Marco Rubio encouraged in his 2026 speech at the Munich Security Conference, and what would serve long-term American economic, security, and political interests, including those of US businesses.
EU enlargement has always functioned as strategic glue. Following the Cold War, accession anchored Central Europe in democratic and market institutions. Extending that process to Balkan countries would close a lingering geopolitical gap in Europe. It would reduce the likelihood of renewed conflict, lock in reforms, and demonstrate that Europe can act decisively in its own security environment.
For Washington, a united and stable Europe is not rhetoric; it is a real force multiplier. A more cohesive EU, expanding a market of 450 million consumers, becomes a stronger partner in addressing shared challenges from Russia’s aggression to China’s strategic investments.
The case for urgency is strengthened by new American policy. The Western Balkans Democracy and Prosperity Act, passed by Congress last year and signed into law by President Trump, commits the US to intensifying economic cooperation, combating corruption, strengthening democratic institutions, and resisting any redrawing of borders along ethnic lines in the Western Balkans. In short, Washington is aligning itself with European integration, not as a substitute for enlargement, but as a complement to it.
If the United States is serious about encouraging Europe to become a more stable and reliable partner, then it should fully employ the tools in this legislation. That includes mobilizing the US International Development Finance Corporation (DFC) to expand energy and infrastructure financing, supporting diversification away from Russian energy, and countering malign influence. It also means pressing partner governments to tackle entrenched corruption.
The new US legislation requires that the Secretary of State should, among other things, develop an initiative to “combat political corruption, especially in the judiciary, independent election oversight bodies, and public procurement processes.” It is a lack of transparency in public procurement that has damaged the competitiveness of economies in the region and discouraged US firms from contending for public contracts, resulting in an exclusion of American workers and investors from regional commercial opportunities. These reforms are not only EU accession requirements; they are preconditions for sustainable US investment.
European leaders themselves, including German Chancellor Friedrich Merz at the Munich Security Conference, have acknowledged that enlargement needs a new impetus. EU Enlargement Commissioner Mata Kos February 13 spoke positively of forward movement for Albania and Montenegro in accession negotiations, and others throughout the region continue to make progress in meeting accession conditions.
It was also notable that Kos issued a stern warning about lessons learned from the EU’s 2004 expansion, especially that some countries were guilty of backsliding on corruption and other key issues once membership was won. And also that some acted as “Trojan horses”, a coded reference to Hungary and Slovakia, which are accused of pursuing their own, or Russia’s interests, rather than Europe’s.
The EU’s Growth Plan for the Western Balkans, with its €6bn ($7bn) Reform and Growth Facility for 2024–2027, aims to deliver early economic benefits through gradual integration into the single market. EU and Balkans leaders will meet in Montenegro in June. Can they — and the US — mobilize the resources made available before then to expedite enlargement work and decisions?
These resources have catalyzed real progress before. Banking sectors once burdened by non-performing loans are now more stable. Education attainment levels approach EU benchmarks. Digital infrastructure has expanded, and several Balkan states are recognized as “emerging innovators.” Private equity funds report internal rates of return as high as 17%, according to the Balkan Barometer.
Yet gaps remain. The small- and medium-sized enterprise (SME) financing shortfall among Western Balkans candidates is estimated at €2.4bn. High interest rates, collateral requirements, and complex procedures constrain entrepreneurship. Targeted capital, particularly patient, risk-tolerant investment, could unlock high-impact ventures, accelerate green transitions, and bridge productivity divides.
For American businesses, this represents an opportunity. US firms in energy, digital services, logistics, and impact investing stand to benefit. NATO’s recent designation of Corridor VIII — from the Adriatic to the Black Sea — as a strategic infrastructure corridor underscores the commercial and security logic of deeper integration. By coordinating DFC financing with EU instruments and multilateral lenders such as the European Investment Bank and the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, Washington can amplify returns while reinforcing standards of transparency and sustainability.
Russia continues to exploit governance weaknesses, energy dependence, and disinformation networks. China has deployed trade, loans, Confucius Institutes, and elite-level partnerships to expand influence. Yet recent data suggest Beijing’s leverage is uneven. According to the 2024 China Index produced by Doublethink Lab and the China in the World network, Chinese influence decreased across the Balkans, though it remains pronounced in Serbia and has grown in Bosnia and Herzegovina. Serbia ranks 34th globally in exposure to Chinese influence; Bosnia and Herzegovina 54th; Montenegro 100th; North Macedonia and Albania at the bottom of the list. The lesson is clear: where democratic resilience strengthens, malign influence wanes.
Accelerated EU enlargement would consolidate that resilience. Membership, or at least phased economic integration paired with a credible timeline to full membership, would reward difficult reforms. Critics in Washington who question Europe’s competitiveness or cohesion would confront tangible evidence of strategic resolve. A Europe that can integrate the Balkans despite internal challenges demonstrates institutional vitality, not weakness.
For the United States, the benefits are equally concrete:
Now is the moment to translate rhetoric into coordinated action. Expedited decisions on Balkan EU membership would signal that Europe is capable of strategic consolidation and that the transatlantic partnership remains forward-looking. By using the Democracy and Prosperity Act vigorously, Washington can help create the conditions for accession. In acting together, the EU and the US can take the first steps in a new transatlantic division of labor to advance European strength, and American prosperity and security alongside it.
David J. Kostelancik is a Nonresident Senior Fellow at the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA). He was a career member of the US Senior Foreign Service, holding the rank of Minister Counselor. David served as deputy coordinator for terrorism prevention and detention in the State Department’s Bureau of Counterterrorism from 2024 to 2025. From 2021 to 2023, he was foreign policy adviser to the chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff. His overseas postings as deputy chief of mission and chargé d’affaires at the US Embassy in Hungary and two postings to Russia. He holds a bachelor’s degree in mathematics and political science from Northwestern University, a master’s degree in Russian and East European studies from the University of Michigan, and a Master of Science degree in national security strategy from the National War College.
Europe’s Edge is CEPA’s online journal covering critical topics on the foreign policy docket across Europe and North America. All opinions expressed on Europe’s Edge are those of the author alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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2026-02-18 22:00:00
Europe must decide its future now. By 2036, either Ukraine is a secure, integrated part of a European economic space and Europe governs a predictable flank, or, alternatively, Europe must contend with a gray-zone frontier that hardens at the European Union’s border, draining budgets and stretching political bandwidth. Which of these divergent futures prevails rests on preparations European leaders must make now to field a permanent defense posture in and with Ukraine and finance reconstruction on transparent, performance-tied terms, with the United States providing structural continuity rather than front-stage leadership.
Crucial measures that must be taken now include:
It is 2036. Europe’s eastern flank is quiet. A European-led security posture with and inside Ukraine — permanent training, integrated intelligence, in-country logistics and maintenance, and protection of energy, rail, and digital networks — has made renewed Russian aggression prohibitively costly. Defense production has scaled to a sustainable rhythm; stockpiles are adequate, and replenishment is routine. Budgets are planned across years rather than quarters. Stability opens space for the priorities governments have struggled to finance and sequence: accelerating the energy transition, renewing Europe’s industrial base rather than subsidizing it in emergencies, and investing in social policy for aging and more diverse societies. Ukraine is not a special project but part of a wider European economic space. Reconstruction is auditable, courts are dependable enough for commercial life, and the workforce that left during the war returns in meaningful numbers because opportunity is predictable.

There is another potential 2036. A gray-zone frontier at the EU border absorbs resources and time. Ammunition and maintenance remain tight; procurement is reactive. Reconstruction in Ukraine has produced showcase projects but uneven delivery; mine and unexploded-ordnance contamination on the scale of a small European state still constrains agriculture, housing, and logistics. Elections have occurred, but late and only partially inclusive, and the judiciary remains slow. And Europe as a whole pays the price. Climate targets slip as funds and political attention are pulled into recurring security responses. Industrial policy stays defensive, managing risk and redundancy rather than modernizing. Social spending becomes more about cushioning shocks than improving outcomes. Investors hedge east of the single market. The opportunity cost is cumulative: a decade of drift.
A quiet Eastern flank is not a moral project; it is a governing strategy. When crises stop dictating budget cycles, European governments can reorder priorities that have been deferred since 2022: energy system upgrades on planned timelines rather than emergency buys; industrial renewal that focuses on modernization of grids, storage, and clean manufacturing rather than defensive subsidies; and social policy that fosters cohesion in aging, more diverse societies. The spillovers are practical: defense production sized to the threat supports skilled employment and dual-use innovation, cross-border transport becomes more predictable, and investors treat Ukraine and its neighbors as an extension of the European market rather than as an exception. The alternative is foreseeable: a gray zone on the EU’s border would keep fiscal policy reactive, draw political attention back to crisis management, and push firms to pay for redundancy instead of productivity.
The hinge between these futures is not in Moscow or in Kyiv, and it is not activated at some far-off date in the future. It is in Berlin, Paris, Warsaw, Brussels, London, and Washington — and the door is swinging now. An agreement with the Kremlin may pause fighting; it does not produce air defenses, maintenance, or multiyear appropriations, and it does not build the European capacity that turns deterrence from a statement into a reality. The decisive choices are Western: whether Europe assumes visible responsibility for a credible deterrent with and inside Ukraine; whether multiyear financing is tied to transparent delivery; whether the United States supplies structural continuity — long-term compacts, deep intelligence and cyber cooperation, and risk-sharing instruments — without needing to sit in front. Kyiv’s own reforms are necessary, but they are not sufficient and they are not independent variables: They are far more likely to stick if Europe and the United States make the surrounding architecture real.

Negotiations will occur, but their meaning differs across capitals. For Western governments, talks are a way to end fighting; for Moscow, they have repeatedly served to improve its position by buying time, fragmenting allies, or codifying advantageous facts on the ground. That asymmetry is why any political arrangement must be anchored in Western enforcement capacity rather than on paper alone. Ceasefire-first proposals untethered to guarantees, production, and training pipelines are pauses by design. Arrangements backed by predictable Western power — security commitments that can be executed; multiyear appropriations; and standing routines for training, intelligence, logistics, and infrastructure protection — alter incentives on both sides in ways that signatures cannot.
Time and industry are now strategic terrain. Russia has shifted to a war-based economy and has transformed into a war-based society. Europe cannot assume that uneven deliveries and improvised procurement rounds will suffice as a baseline threat persists. The same years in which Ukraine requires sustained support are the years in which Europe must rebuild its own defense capacity. Waiting for one to end before beginning the other would fail both. The practical answer is a visible, European-led deterrent posture with and inside Ukraine: permanent training missions; deeper intelligence integration that shortens the distance between information and action; in-country logistics and maintenance; and systematic hardening of energy, rail, and digital networks so civilian life and economic activity continue even under pressure. Deterrence is not a slogan: It is an observable posture and a funded routine.
Coalition stamina is a policy variable, not a mystery. Europe can make its own timelines more reliable by institutionalizing the flows that matter: multiyear procurement for munitions and maintenance, a permanent training mission with Ukrainian units, intelligence arrangements that shorten the distance between information and action, and in-country logistics that keep systems serviceable. These are observable measures. They reduce the premium investors and voters attach to headline risk and make allied commitments less sensitive to swings in any single capital. They also answer the recurring objection that “support cannot be open-ended”: The point is not to promise forever, but to build routines that are delivered on time and judged by results.
The United States remains essential, but its most effective role in this model is structural. Long-term compacts that standardize training and logistics; deeper intelligence, cyber, and space cooperation; and instruments that de-risk private capital alongside European finance all contribute to continuity. None of this requires Washington to be the visible lead. It requires steadiness across electoral cycles. If Europe assumes responsibility for the posture and the financing, and if the United States supplies predictability and risk-sharing, Western policy becomes less exposed to swings in any single capital.

Aims matter as much as means. Helping Ukraine win battles is necessary; shaping a postwar order that deters renewed aggression and integrates Ukraine into Western institutions is the objective. Battlefield success that is not institutionalized risks becoming a prelude. Conversely, institutional commitments made early — on security cooperation, on reconstruction finance tied to transparent delivery, on practical pathways to political and economic integration — shape behavior during the conflict and fix expectations after it. Proposals that prioritize an immediate halt in fighting without building enforcement mechanisms attempt to purchase calm on credit and often embed ambiguity that favors the aggressor.
Domestic politics will decide what policy can sustain. The most consequential “negotiations” are within allied systems: parliaments setting budgets, ministries writing contracts, parties explaining timelines and costs to voters. European governments cannot control US politics, but they can reduce exposure to it by building capacity and taking visible responsibility for deterrence and reconstruction. That requires clear communication about the scale of the task and the trade-offs over time, as well as delivery that is regular and auditable rather than episodic and headline-driven.
The benefits of credible deterrence in Ukraine accrue directly to European societies. A stable eastern flank creates fiscal and political room for priorities that have been deferred: The energy transition becomes a planning exercise rather than a crisis response; industrial policy shifts from emergency subsidies to long-term investment in grids, storage, clean-tech manufacturing, and cross-border transport; and social policy focuses on cohesion in aging, diverse societies instead of coping with recurrent shocks. Defense production sized to the threat also has civilian spillovers — skilled employment, dual-use technology, and supply-chain resilience — that are harder to build in a cycle of scarcity.
Financing should be designed to reward integrity and delivery. That is not an abstract principle: It is a structure. Align major European and multilateral instruments with open-data planning and execution so that citizens and donors can see priorities, contracts, and results. Use a single coordination platform, with Ukraine as an equal participant, to avoid duplication and to tie disbursements to governance benchmarks. This approach lowers risk premiums, attracts private capital, and gives European publics a way to see whether their money is achieving what it is supposed to achieve. It also builds habits on both sides that persist beyond the first tranche of reconstruction.
Failure to act forecloses those choices. A frozen conflict on the EU’s border would keep budgets tight and unpredictable. Governments would spend more on improvised security and less on reform of pensions, health systems, and education. Climate targets would drift as attention and capital are diverted. The industrial base would remain reactive, with firms investing in redundancy rather than modernization. Politics would grow more brittle as voters tire of paying for an open-ended gray zone without a clear plan to end it. These are not abstract risks. They are the predictable opportunity costs of postponing decisions that could be taken now.

There is also a transatlantic dividend. If Europe leads on deterrence and finances reconstruction on terms that reward integrity, it reduces the degree to which Washington’s domestic cycles can upend policy. A steadier division of labor — Europe visible, the US structural — makes allied commitments more credible to adversaries and to investors. It reassures publics that the strategy is not an open-ended promise but a defined set of tasks that can be specified, budgeted, and evaluated.
Two objections recur and can be addressed directly. The first is escalation risk. A European-led deterrent posture with and inside Ukraine, including permanent training; integrated intelligence, logistics, and maintenance in-country; and protection of energy, rail, and digital networks, reduces the need for crisis responses; it does not invite them. Deterrence here is not a public relations exercise; it is the routine that makes coercion costlier and less likely. The second concerns the risk of corruption. The response is to design out the opportunity: Run reconstruction through open-data systems, protect anti-corruption bodies and the judiciary, and condition finance on delivery that can be audited. These measures do not guarantee perfection, but they turn a generic concern into a management problem with measurable outputs.
“Ukraine 2036” is not a prediction. It is an organizing principle for decisions that must be taken now and a much-needed reminder that expedience in the present can come with a high cost in the future. Some bills will come due regardless, including for mine clearance, critical infrastructure replacement, veterans reintregration, and court staffing. They can be paid within a framework that reduces future risk, or they can be paid in conditions that sustain it. The choices outlined in these pages are the difference between those two paths. The outcome in 2036 will not be a surprise. It will be the sum of policies adopted in the next two years.

Europe’s choices will be judged by what is observable by the end of 2026. The West must invest and commit now to establishing a steady cadence of training rotations with Ukrainian units, a functioning intelligence liaison that delivers actionable outputs, in-country maintenance capacity that keeps key systems in service, energy and rail nodes hardened to operate through disruption, and reconstruction projects planned and tracked through open data with credible civil-society oversight. In Kyiv, legislators must provide constitutional clarity on emergency powers and center-local relations. Officials must also substantially complete judicial staffing, prepare for the first postwar elections to include internally displaced citizens and those abroad, and scale veterans services beyond pilot programs. None of these requires a formal peace. All are feasible under current conditions and less costly if done now.

In the chapters that follow, Kseniya Sotnikova addresses reconstruction and social cohesion. She begins with scale — needs measured in the hundreds of billions over a decade and mine contamination on a historic footprint — and treats reconstruction as a political-economy problem rather than a procurement list. Her recommended approach is radical transparency: Plan and deliver through open-data systems that allow citizens and donors to see priorities, contracts, and results; tie finance to governance benchmarks; consolidate donor efforts on a single coordination platform with Ukraine as an equal participant; triage where to rebuild and explain that triage publicly; link demining to labor-market policy and housing; and plan veteran rehabilitation and employment at scale to foster cohesion and fiscal stability in the early 2030s.
Uliana Movchan examines the political and legal architecture that will enable or impede recovery. Her focus is on translating wartime resilience into rules that withstand pressure: clarify emergency powers and civil-military boundaries; define center-local competences so necessary wartime practices do not harden into peacetime shortcuts; complete merit-based judicial staffing and protect independent anti-corruption bodies; and prepare for the first postwar elections under the proportional, open-list system adopted in 2020, with the administrative capacity to include internally displaced citizens and those abroad. The through-line is institutional credibility, without which finance is more costly and capture is more likely.
Volodymyr Dubovyk sets out what a credible deterrence posture entails in practice. He argues that ad hoc aid and strategic ambiguity have reached their limit and that moving to an institutional footing requires permanent training with Ukrainian units, intelligence arrangements that make information actionable, logistics and maintenance support inside Ukraine, and systematic protection of energy, transport, and digital networks. The aim is to narrow the space for coercion while keeping civilian systems operating while under stress.

The resulting policy recommendations are clear. For Ukraine’s government, near-term priorities include clarifying emergency powers and center-local relations; completing judicial staffing and safeguarding anti-corruption institutions; preparing for inclusive first postwar elections that preserve the 2020 electoral system; adopting and implementing a reconstruction law tied to open-data delivery and unified donor coordination; and treating demining, skills, and veterans policy as core security tasks. For Europe, the central task is to lead: Field a deterrent posture with and inside Ukraine; harden critical infrastructure; scale defense production; finance at size while conditioning disbursements on transparent procurement and clean delivery; support plural media, watchdog groups, election administration for displaced voters, and independent election administration for displaced voters, and independent election observation consistent with EU standards; and staff for the long haul. For the United States, the role is to provide structural continuity with long-term compacts that pre-authorize support; deeper intelligence, cyber, and space cooperation; assistance aligned with governance benchmarks; and instruments that mobilize private investment alongside European finance.
The logic running through the volume is consistent. Defense credibility creates room for reform. Clean institutions translate that room into confidence. Transparent reconstruction turns confidence into growth and cohesion. Each component depends on the others. The practical implication for the coming period is to move on all three at once, even under wartime conditions, rather than serializing them. Many of the most important steps — clarifying emergency powers, completing judicial staffing, deploying open-data reconstruction systems, establishing routine training and logistics arrangements — are feasible now and are more effective if put in place before less transparent habits take root.
The decision Europe faces is not only about how to end a war; it is about the kind of European decade governments want to govern. Credible deterrence in Ukraine is the condition for pursuing other priorities with predictability. Failing to build it would turn those priorities into talking points. The path to a better 2036 runs through choices that can be specified and seen through today.
Kseniya Sotnikova
Ukraine stands at yet another inflection point, where the level and continuity of international support will fundamentally shape its trajectory toward a secure and democratic future. Decisions made and policies launched now will define whether in the coming decade Ukraine becomes not a dependent state, but a valuable contributor to peace and security, as well as economic prosperity in the European and transatlantic communities.
If Ukraine is not robustly supported in its reconstruction and development, the risks of democratic backsliding and regional instability, including economic and migration crises, extend far beyond its borders. The points discussed below — from immediate postwar political challenges and reintegration of de-occupied territories to demographic challenges and reconstruction potential — will determine whether Ukraine faces prolonged instability and decline, with potential further spillover to its neighborhood, or develops as a resilient and prosperous democracy, sharing its innovations and welcoming mutually beneficial international development projects.
The issue of holding elections in Ukraine has been high on the political and media agenda since early 2024, as the normal five-year terms for president and members of parliament would have expired last year. There is wide agreement that the constitution permits the extension of the powers of the Verkhovna Rada and president if their mandates expire during martial law, when indeed the law prohibits elections. Still, the end of the war and martial law will not automatically resolve the legal, administrative, and security challenges that have piled up during Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine. The success and legitimacy of the first postwar elections in Ukraine will set the tone for further democratic processes in the country.1
Ukrainian experts and politicians have already started discussing how to change the law to address the postwar challenges. Ukraine’s dynamic civil society has developed its own vision for postwar elections, including territorial security audits, accessibility measures for displaced voters, and Electoral Code reforms. These efforts align with EU accession requirements as well as recommendations from the Organization for Security and Cooperation in Europe to strengthen electoral integrity against disinformation and cyber threats.
Some Ukrainian territories have been under occupation for more than 10 years, some have been occupied since the full-scale invasion, and others have been liberated. Among the postwar tasks in reintegrating de-occupied territories will be identifying collaborators and holding them responsible, both for security reasons and to satisfy the public demand for justice.
Most Ukrainians sympathize with their fellow citizens under occupation, viewing them as victims of circumstance who await the return of Ukrainian control.2 But they also demand punishment for certain groups, including law enforcement officers, politicians, and the military working for the occupying authorities. In postwar elections, voters will very likely demand to know if candidates from the de-occupied territories collaborated in any way.
Discussion of “transitional justice” has picked up since the adoption of a new legal framework in 2022. Although the law has gaps, lawmakers are reluctant to try to amend it, which would require them to make a compelling case that could balance the fears and hopes of disparate audiences, including people living and working in the occupied territories and internally displaced people.
Ukraine’s population was shrinking even before the full-scale invasion, but since 2022, the situation has worsened. The country had 48.5 m people in 2001, 42 m in 2022, and 35.8 m in July 2024, including 31.1 m in places under complete control of the government.3
The International Organization for Migration estimates that more than 14 million people fled their homes during the first two years of Russia’s full-scale invasion.4 Since then, some have returned from internal displacement or from abroad, although not necessarily back to their homes. Around 4.5 m are officially displaced inside the country, and around 6.8 m remain abroad. This hemorrhaging of population and dislocation has deepened the country’s labor shortage, constricting the economy’s long-term potential.
Still, the labor market shows tentative signs of recovery, with unemployment gradually declining and businesses adapting to new realities. Women are training for traditionally male professions, such as truck drivers, and policies aim to bring veterans into the labor market. Ukraine has also recently begun allowing its citizens to hold multiple citizenships in another attempt to keep those Ukrainians abroad in the fold. But it is security and economic stability that will ultimately lure people back.
It will take $524 bn over the next decade to rebuild Ukraine, according to a February 2025 assessment by the government, World Bank, European Union, and United Nations. That is about 2.8 times Ukraine’s estimated nominal gross domestic product for 2024. The assessment puts direct damage in Ukraine at $176 bn, up from $152 bn the previous year.
Long-term reconstruction and recovery needs are the highest in housing (almost $84 bn), followed by transportation (almost $78 bn), energy and extractive industries (almost $68 bn), commerce and industry (over $64 bn), and agriculture (over $55 bn). Across all sectors, the cost of debris clearance and management alone reaches almost $13 bn.
In addition to trying to woo investments from international partners and the private sector, the country will need to deal with an unprecedented level of mine contamination and explosive ordnance.

Ukraine is now arguably the world’s most mine-contaminated country, with 174,000 square kilometers, or nearly 29% of territory contaminated by landmines or explosive remnants.5 Nearly 139,000 square kilometers (53,670 square miles) are affected, about a quarter of its territory.6 Mines continue to threaten lives, impede agriculture, and hinder reconstruction.
Meanwhile, Ukraine is streamlining reconstruction and recovery initiatives. It is investing in coordinating and bringing accountability to the unprecedented number of recovery projects under different leadership, including the government, the European Bank for Reconstruction and Development, and the G7. In a bid for transparency, the Ministry of Community and Territorial Development has developed a database to collect, organize, and publish open data on all stages of restoration projects in real time. In addition, the government has set up the State Agency for Infrastructure Restoration and Development, as well as a platform mapping destruction and listing national recovery projects.7
The legal foundation is also improving. For instance, in June, parliament adopted legislation that would make it easier to create public-private partnerships and would better protect investors, including in joint defense projects. One of its aims is to strengthen Ukraine’s defense-industrial complex.
About 300,000 people have been disabled to varying degrees by war-related injuries since 2022, bringing the total number of people with disabilities to more than 3 m. Only 16% of those with disabilities are employed, compared with over 50% in the EU. By various estimates, up to 100,000 people have lost limbs, putting immense pressure on health care and rehabilitation systems, and highlighting the need for barrier-free infrastructure and specialized professional training.
Ukraine is already expanding its rehabilitation infrastructure, including with the assistance of the international community, with programs to help veterans reintegrate professionally and psychologically. It has also adopted plans to create a nationwide barrier-free environment by 2030.8 These and other efforts, combined with international partnerships and a strong policy focus on inclusiveness, are a good start in addressing these issues.
Most attempts to resolve critical needs and to establish long-term solutions require new laws. At the same time, Ukrainian civil society boasts a cadre of respected experts, enjoys access to the latest practical data across all sectors, and often has direct connections to lawmakers and government agencies with the leverage to translate their ideas into directives and bills. It follows, then, that closer cooperation between civil society and the authorities would improve the quality of proposed legislation and help ensure that new policies are grounded in the actual needs and experiences of citizens. For implementation, much of the responsibility will rest on the shoulders of the local authorities and communities (hromadas). Of course, international partners play a massive role in financing, technical and advisory assistance, and implementation oversight, especially in reconstruction and development efforts.
Among the many issues outlined by the legal experts are the following:9

In Ukraine, “collaboration activity” was formally criminalized in March 2022, but the law lacks a clear distinction between those who deliberately cooperate with the occupiers and those who have become hostages of circumstances. One recent analysis found that prosecution for collaboration does not properly consider the context of the occupation or the need to survive in the occupied territory and is based on a rather formal assessment of the actions of the accused.14 International human rights groups have repeatedly warned about flaws in the law’s text and enforcement. In response, lawmakers have proposed at least 13 amendments, but all remain pending. It is difficult for officials to move forward and communicate the amendments simultaneously to those in the occupied territories and the rest of the Ukrainian population. Nor can Ukraine look to the examples of postwar Europe, where efforts to bring collaborators to justice raised their own issues of culpability, rights, and social cohesion.15 Ukraine will have to invent its own solution to ensure both justice and social cohesion.
The demographic crisis in Ukraine has two key dimensions: quantitative and structural.
Quantitative aspect. The UN projects that the population of Ukraine will increase to 39.54 m by 2026, after which it will fall to 15.3 m by 2100.16 It’s perhaps an overly grim vision that assumes Ukraine takes no measures to stop the demographic slide, but the general trend is still extremely worrisome. The Ukrainian Institute of Demography projects that the country’s population could drop to approximately 30 m by 2037.17
Structural aspect. The share of younger people in Ukraine is rapidly declining, as the share of the elderly grows. According to government figures, the average age of Ukrainians has risen from 41 before the full-scale invasion to 45. In addition, for every person of pensionable age in Ukraine, there is only one working person, compared with the EU average of 2.7 in 2022, with a forecasted decline to approximately 1.5 in 2100.18 This crisis will only get worse, considering that 60% of the people who have left (and keep leaving) Ukraine are of working age, and 20% are children who will enter the labor market in 10 to 15 years. Notably, in the end of August 2025, the government began allowing male citizens ages 18 to 22 — not yet old enough for the draft — to travel abroad during martial law.19 The Polish Border Guard counted about 10,000 young Ukrainian men entering Poland during the first week after these changes went into effect.20 As of the end of October, the figure has reportedly almost reached 100,000.21 The initial goal of the Ukrainian authorities was to prevent families from taking teenagers abroad before they reached the conscription age, and let them proceed with their education in Ukraine. President Zelenskyy emphasized that young people who graduate in Ukraine have a much greater chance of returning after leaving than those who receive an education abroad.22 However, this policy change has rather allowed a massive outflow of young Ukrainian men to Europe.

Kyiv’s initial goal was that by giving young people more freedom to leave, it would encourage them to return and voluntarily join the Ukrainian Armed Forces later.
As of December 2024, 6.8 m Ukrainians were registered as refugees abroad, with 5.5 m outside Russia and Belarus (for now, there is little possibility to collect data on refugees in RU and BY).11 The largest age group among refugees continues to be women ages 35 to 44, the majority of whom, 54%, left Ukraine with their children. Children make up 29% of Ukrainian refugees. The proportion of adult men among refugees increased to 27%, up from 18% in January 2024.
There is a separate issue of Russia stealing Ukrainian children. Tens of thousands of children have already been taken from occupied areas of Ukraine to Russia, including for further adoption, a war crime that continues.23 Notably, the first arrest warrant against Vladimir Putin was issued by the International Criminal Court for unlawfully deporting children and unlawfully transferring children from occupied areas of Ukraine to the Russian Federation.24 It is crucial to continue the coordinated international efforts aimed at bringing the children back, reuniting them with their families, and ensuring their proper psychological recovery.
Ukraine seems to lack a coherent and feasible strategy for appealing to its citizens abroad. One effort to do that, the creation of the Ministry of National Unity of Ukraine in late 2024, was met with widespread skepticism. It failed to communicate effectively with Ukrainians who had left the country or work well with the political leadership of partner countries hosting Ukrainian refugees. Following a government reshuffle in July, it merged with the Ministry of Social Policy into a renamed Ministry of Social Policy, Family and Unity.25
The government also needs to move forward on its Demographic Development Strategy 2024-2040, prioritizing concrete deliverable programs.
Ukraine’s labor market is experiencing serious turbulence, with mass migration of workers and ongoing mobilizations only two of the factors. By the end of 2024, the unemployment rate was 14.3%, but by April 2025, it had declined to 12.1%, the lowest rate since the start of the full-scale war in February 2022, when it stood at 8.6%.26

The economic implications of the recent decision to let men aged 18 to 22 leave the country are yet to be evaluated. However, as they did not need any reservation from conscription by their employers, the people who still remain in the country would be willing to work at the enterprises not listed as “critically important”, including the smaller businesses. According to the data as of mid-September, 37% of employers faced layoffs of men aged 18 to 22.27
The unemployment rate among IDPs is higher than that across the general population. There are more than 4.5 m registered IDPs in Ukraine, 42.3% of whom are of working age. Out of them, only about 40% are employed. They not only face employment issues, but many have homes that were destroyed or are located in heavily mined areas. Twenty-two percent of the country’s homeless population consists of internally displaced people.28 During Russia’s full-scale war against Ukraine, about 4 million people lost their homes.
It is important to address the housing crisis, as well as expand employment opportunities, especially for youth, women, and pensioners, and find ways to support businesses.
Ukraine also needs to develop proper regulatory mechanisms for attracting, registering, and integrating workers from other countries to fill the growing gaps in the labor pool.
A stretched labor market could hamper the speed and quality of reconstruction and development efforts.
In addition, tough political decisions lie ahead. Reconstruction of destroyed settlements must be a cornerstone of the country’s recovery plans, as difficult as it may be to rebuild homes and towns from scratch. As Ukrainian authorities make tough decisions over which settlements to prioritize, they must determine how to engage in careful, honest dialogue with publics about their critical reconstruction decisions.
Officials will also have to woo and reassure potential investors. In a recent survey, 79% of foreign investors who had previously expressed some interest in Ukraine are interested in opportunities related to the country’s recovery.29 Those ready to enter the market before the end of the war are most attracted to construction and reconstruction, services, and infrastructure, but they named the following as the biggest barriers to investment:
Officials will need to address investors’ concerns as soon as possible.
NB: In May 2024, a draft law “On the key principles of the reconstruction of Ukraine” was presented by the Ministry for Development of Communities and Territories of Ukraine. ((“Повідомлення Про Оприлюднення Пропозицій Робочої Групи з Напрацювання Законодавчих Ініціатив Щодо Відновлення України.” Міністерство розвитку громад та територій України, May 10, 2024. https://mindev.gov.ua/news/35630-povidomlennia-pro-opriliudnennia-propozicii-robocoyi-grupi-z-napraciuvannia-zakonodavcix-iniciativ-shhodo-vidnovlennia-ukrayini.)) It was not registered in the Parliament yet.
Ukraine has 1.2 m veterans, and the figure is growing. Their rehabilitation, reintegration, and retraining will remain a pressing issue. The Minister for Veterans Affairs estimates that by war’s end, the number of people with veteran status plus their family members eligible for veterans benefits could reach 5 m. The government needs to prepare for this crush by seriously expanding the system’s capacity.
Both veterans and civilians affected by the war need help in their return to normal life and the labor market. They face barriers to employment and social reintegration due to disabilities, workplace inaccessibility, and the stigma against mental illness or trauma. They urgently need psychological support, professional retraining, and public campaigns to change perceptions about hiring veterans and people with disabilities.
NB: On August 25th, the Parliament registered a draft Law “On the Basic Principles of State Veteran Policy [***]”, which proposes to determine at the legislative level the goal, objectives, and principles of state veteran policy, the legal status of veterans, veterans with special merit to the Fatherland, their family members, and family members of the deceased Defenders of Ukraine, and to establish the types of support provided to these categories of persons to ensure their dignified life, honor, and respect in society. The bill has been developed within the implementation of the Veterans Policy Strategy for the Period Until 2030. It is yet to be approved by the Parliament. ((Anatoliivna, Svyrydenko Yuliia. “Проект Закону Про Основні Засади Державної Ветеранської Політики Щодо Ветеранів/Ветеранок, Які Брали Участь у Відсічі Збройної Агресії Російської Федерації Проти України.” Картка законопроекту – законотворчість, August 25, 2025. https://itd.rada.gov.ua/billinfo/Bills/Card/57192.))
As it works on an updated, comprehensive veterans policy, the government needs to address more immediately the problems of understaffing, staff turnover, and limited funds at the Veterans Ministry.
If poorly managed, Ukraine’s first postwar elections could undermine social cohesion and public trust in elected officials. Logistical and organizational constraints mean that millions of Ukrainians abroad could be deprived of their constitutional right to vote, as could IDPs if voter registries are not updated in time. In addition, there might be issues with the participation of the military in the electoral process—even when active hostilities cease, servicemembers will be continue deployment near the state border with Russia. Thus, large segments of the population would feel neglected and disengaged, and might understandably question the legitimacy of the electoral process and, ultimately, of those elected.
All of which would create an opening for anti-Ukrainian propaganda before, during, and after the elections. With its long history of exploiting gaps in democratic processes through disinformation, Russia would likely seize the chance to delegitimize Ukraine’s leadership both domestically and internationally, potentially making it harder for Ukraine’s international partners to make the case for supporting Ukraine to their own people.
In addition, without proper preventive measures, the electoral machinery could become a target for cyberattacks, including data breaches, manipulation of results, and disruption of election infrastructure and logistics.
It is also worth mentioning that any new Ukrainian parliament will likely shift away from the focus on new faces that brought to power the president’s Servant of the People party and allowed it to form a single-party majority there, and toward the armed forces and volunteers, who particularly enjoy public esteem right now.30 But given that achievements among the military and volunteers do not necessarily translate into political and policy expertise, …
NB: In Ukraine, the term “volunteer” refers to “all civic networks that help supply the army and accommodate internally displaced persons, etc. […] In the first period of the war, volunteers collected money donated by millions of people, bought bulletproof vests, first aid kits, thermal imagers, boots, uniforms, and food, and then delivered it to the front line. Without volunteers, many volunteer fighters would have been hungry and unequipped in the first months of a full-scale war. Nowadays, volunteers are supporting the state supply chain and taking care of those areas where the state cannot cope. For example, this is clear regarding the supply and repair of vehicles, which in modern warfare are simply expendable and live on the battlefield for a few days.[…]. It is no coincidence that the volunteer movement enjoys the highest level of public trust in Ukraine.”31
However, the issue of professionalism could remain relevant, as representatives from the military and volunteer sectors – despite the previous high achievements in their respective fields that brought them public support – may lack the necessary political and legal background and expertise required for effective parliamentary work. Further, there are limitations for eligibility to run for office, disqualifying many refugees and diminishing the pool of good candidates.
Ukrainians are demanding justice for wartime crimes and transgressions. Any delays in providing a clear legal framework and properly explaining it to various audiences — including those in the occupied territories, those living under Ukrainian control, and the international community — could allow grievances to fester, sowing division and endangering the process of reintegration.
Russia is already exploiting the ambiguity of Ukrainian laws on this issue, triggering the fears of people living and working under the occupation that they could face harsh prosecutions should the Ukrainian authorities regain control. Russia will also use any specific cases to further try to discredit the Ukrainian authorities, appealing to the Russian population, the people living in occupation, and the international community with claims of violations of international law, particularly in human rights.

In addition, a lack of proper vetting procedures and accountability could open the door to collaborators appearing on the ballot come election day.
The share of Ukrainians who live abroad and plan to return is steadily shrinking. Most recently, it was 43% surveyed, down from 52% in January 2024 and 74% in November 2022. Only 20% of respondents are certain that they will return. The longer the war continues, the more Ukrainians will adapt to living abroad, and the more civilian infrastructure will be so damaged that many will have no home to return to.
Ukrainians who plan to return are largely undecided about the timing, meaning host countries could have to shift from temporary to long-term integration strategies and even deal with a rise in people living there illegally after assistance programs have expired. The potential additional pressure on housing and social services could, in turn, sow public resentment in those countries.
In Ukraine itself, the Kyiv School of Economics projects that the unemployment rate will continue to slide to about 10% by the end of 2027, reflecting a gradual labor market recovery.32 With this cautiously optimistic data, businesses still face a growing deficit of skilled workers, especially as mobilization removes critical staff from the workforce. As of August 2024, according to the Advanter marketing and consulting firm, businesses lacked about 26% of the specialists they needed.33 KSE reports that the share of businesses experiencing labor shortages due to conscription and/or employee departures grew from 49% in May 2024 to 63% in August 2024, where it has stabilized. The structure of the labor market is also changing: The share of women is growing, including in what had been traditionally considered men’s professions.
In parallel, the shadow labor market is increasing, as more men skirt the requirement to register with military authorities and enlistment offices in order to qualify for official employment.
At the end of 2021, Ukraine’s labor force was 17.4 m people.34 By May 2023, it had lost more than 30% of those workers to mobilization, occupation, and emigration, according to estimates by the Confederation of Employers. Various assessments say Ukraine will be short 3 m to 4.5 m of the workers it would need to be economically sustainable by 2030.
A continuing shortage of qualified workers alongside the continued growth of the shadow economy would further hobble businesses, reduce tax revenues and social security contributions, and ultimately slow GDP growth, as international agencies are already forecasting.35 Ukraine’s postwar recovery and its ability to attract investment would suffer.
A pressing labor shortage could also increasingly spur businesses to turn to unregistered workers from third countries. Without proper regulation, unregistered foreign workers are vulnerable to exploitation and abuse, and their presence can complicate law enforcement and migration policy. It is important to update existing policies to head off trouble here.
Failure to address the concerns of potential investors and the lack of a clear legal framework, including permitting procedures, could choke off private foreign funds needed for reconstruction. Given the tremendous losses Ukraine has already suffered, that would risk further economic stagnation and decline. Ukraine would lose the chance for rapid economic recovery and modernization and be less competitive on the world market. It would also have fewer new jobs, further fueling labor migration.
If Ukraine fails to attract direct investments, it will have to cover its deficit with external loans or other forms of support, making it more dependent on foreign aid.
Finally, officials’ inability to attract foreign investments, especially due to reputational or political factors such as issues with the rule of law, could feed public frustration. That would create fertile ground for Russian campaigns to undermine social cohesion and trust in the current administration.36
Ukraine is already developing projects to ease the reintegration of veterans, but they are unequal to the demand. Inadequate support for the millions of veterans and their family members who will need help will leave many struggling with physical disabilities, psychological trauma, and social isolation. The result could be frustration and marginalization, undermining national unity and social stability. Lack of proper (re)training for veterans and their potential employers could mean lower productivity and more pressure on the state support system from people who otherwise would be willing and able to provide for themselves.
Working groups of the Veterans Affairs, Health, Social Policy, and Defense ministries have come up with ideas for helping those affected by the war to transition into regular civilian life, but rather than coordinating their appeals to potential donors, they are promoting their own projects. These efforts should be streamlined to avoid the ineffective distribution of resources.
Without international support, Ukraine’s economy will stagnate, making proper recovery virtually impossible and leaving Ukraine vulnerable to further Russian aggression, creating immediate security risks for all of Europe.

Russia has destroyed homes, energy infrastructure, and other facilities providing essential services for the population. Left unaddressed, that destruction will cause deeper poverty and could spur social unrest and further waves of emigration internationally, only without the state and public support in the hosting countries during Russia’s full-scale invasion.
In other words, if not supported immediately in its recovery, Ukraine could become a source of instability instead of being a contributor to the regional and global economy and security.


Uliana Movchan
Ukraine’s democratic trajectory stands at a critical crossroads that will define not only its own future but the broader architecture of European security and democratic governance in the 21st century. The country’s ability to consolidate its democratic institutions will determine whether it emerges as a secure and democratic European state or remains trapped in a cycle of fragility and external vulnerability. The stakes extend far beyond Ukraine’s borders: Success in supporting Ukraine’s democratic consolidation will create a transformative model for resilient democracy under extreme pressure, while failure risks the emergence of a fragile state that becomes a source of instability for the entire region.

As the World Bank in 2022 has emphasized, promoting democracy requires a comprehensive approach that strengthens the separation of powers, ensures inclusive and pluralistic governance, and empowers subnational institutions through decentralization.37 In fragile and postconflict settings, decentralization serves as a critical tool for state- and peacebuilding by redistributing power and resources in ways that open political space, reduce monopolization by dominant parties, and foster political competition and pluralism. The European External Action Service (2020) has further stressed that democratic consolidation depends on bolstering institutional integrity through the independence of the judiciary, robust parliamentary systems, anti-corruption measures, active civil society engagement, and the expansion of e-governance mechanisms to promote transparency and accountability.38
Three interconnected pillars will shape Ukraine’s path toward a secure and democratic European future, each reinforcing the others in a complex structure of institutional interdependence. First, democratic consolidation through strengthened institutions, the rule of law, and pluralistic governance will provide the foundation for long-term stability and European integration. The resilience of Ukraine’s democratic institutions during the full-scale invasion demonstrates their potential, but consolidation requires sustained support to transform wartime adaptations into permanent democratic structures. Second, successful postwar reconstruction guided by transparent, accountable governance will demonstrate that democratic institutions can deliver tangible benefits to citizens while resisting corruption and power capture. The scale of reconstruction needs — estimated in the hundreds of billions of dollars — creates both opportunities for democratic strengthening and risks of power capture that could undermine decades of progress. Third, robust security arrangements supported by strong democratic institutions will safeguard Ukraine’s sovereignty while maintaining civilian control over military affairs and preventing the militarization of society that often accompanies prolonged conflicts.
The current moment represents a unique window of opportunity. Ukraine’s democratic institutions have proven their resilience under the most extreme conditions, international attention and support are at historic highs, and the country’s European integration aspirations provide a clear framework for institutional development. But this window of opportunity will not remain open forever. When the immediate crisis passes, international attention may decrease, domestic political pressures may shift priorities away from institutional reform, and the massive reconstruction effort may create new opportunities for corruption and power capture. The decisions made now will determine whether Ukraine seizes this historic opportunity for democratic transformation or allows it to slip away.
Despite the devastation and disruptions caused by Russia’s full-scale invasion, Ukraine’s democratic regime has endured. Freedom House continues to classify the country as “partly free,” the Bertelsmann Transformation Index deems it a “defective democracy” with an upward trend by 2022 (7.1), and the Economist Intelligence Unit classifies it as a “hybrid regime” with some decline (5.81 in 2020 to 4.9 in 2024) (see Table 1). The continuity of these ratings amid war underscores that Ukraine has resisted authoritarian backsliding, in large part due to local governance structures enabled by decentralization — and because Ukrainian society continues to express a strong preference for democratic governance, even under conditions of existential threat.
Decentralization has played a pivotal role in this resilience. As the World Bank has emphasized, decentralization in post-conflict societies is not merely an administrative reform — it is a fundamental restructuring of political and institutional power (World Bank, 2022). By redistributing authority across levels of government, decentralization breaks the monopoly of central elites, boosts political competition, and fosters pluralism. In Ukraine, decentralization has served precisely this purpose. It has empowered local authorities, created new channels of democratic participation, and ultimately contributed to societal resilience in the face of war.

Since 2014, Ukraine has implemented one of the most ambitious decentralization reforms in Europe. More than 10,000 fragmented local councils were amalgamated into around 1,400 hromadas, each with direct fiscal authority and administrative responsibility. Local governments now manage a substantial share of public investment and play an essential role in the delivery of education, health care, and infrastructure. Local elections in 2020 embedded democratic legitimacy at the grassroots level. This transformation has not only streamlined service delivery but also significantly shifted the country’s vertical power balance. Regional state administrations, formerly extensions of presidential power, ceded some of their influence to empowered local councils and elected mayors. This institutional shift proved critical when Russia launched its full-scale invasion in 2022. Local authorities, now equipped with greater autonomy, emerged as key actors in managing wartime logistics, territorial defense, and the distribution of humanitarian assistance. They coordinated with military administrations, supported displaced populations, and continued delivering services in partially occupied territories. Their performance demonstrated that decentralization was not just a reform — it had made the state more functional.
However, the war also disrupted the balance between autonomy and oversight. Amendments passed between 2022 and 2024 allowed for the delegation of local authority to military administrations in areas where local governments could no longer operate. In many regions untouched by active combat, mayors gained enhanced powers, issuing appointments, reallocating budgets, and making executive decisions with minimal council involvement. While this expedited crisis response, it also weakened traditional checks and raised concerns about over-centralization and potential corruption. By 2023, some oversight was restored as military administrations began monitoring mayoral actions more closely, but the system remained improvised and legally ambiguous (Brovko 2023).39
At the same time, the war has redefined civic participation at the local level. Many local governments maintained inclusive approaches to wartime problem-solving, especially involving internally displaced people and expert communities. But they engaged less with nongovernmental organizations and more with entrepreneurs, whom they perceived as more capable partners due to their resources. This pragmatic orientation reflects both wartime necessity and structural dependence, but participation also became more politicized: By 2024, 32% of local governments reported difficulty resisting pressure from interest groups, up from 21% in 2021. Reconstruction planning in particular became contested, as local elites or opposition groups sought to capture public processes for private or political gain. These developments signal both the strength and fragility of local democracy under stress.40
Rule-of-law developments reflect both wartime constraints and reform momentum. One of the most significant achievements is the revival of judicial reforms long stalled before the full-scale invasion. Ukraine restructured two key institutions: the High Council of Justice and the High Qualification Commission of Judges. These reforms were implemented with national and international participation, including integrity checks for members. Civil society had long demanded these changes, but only under wartime conditions — driven by the urgency of EU integration and sustained political will — did they finally move forward. The liquidation of the Kyiv District Administrative Court (KDAC), one of the country’s most notorious judicial bodies, symbolized a break from entrenched judicial corruption. Although institutional challenges remain, especially in capacity and transparency, these reforms show that Ukraine can turn crisis into momentum.41
Even during martial law, Ukraine’s judiciary has preserved legal continuity. Courts continue to function, transferring jurisdiction from conflict zones to safer regions and trying to introduce online proceedings to ensure access to justice for displaced populations. Martial law has not been used to create exceptional courts or bypass constitutional protections, an important marker of democratic restraint. While more than 100 court buildings have been damaged and many judicial positions remain unfilled (up to 60% in some instances), the judiciary has upheld its independence in critical areas, including high-level corruption cases.42
Notably, anti-corruption institutions have operated with increasing autonomy. In 2023, the head of the Supreme Court was arrested on suspicion of accepting a $2.7 million bribe, in an operation conducted by the National Anti-Corruption Bureau (NABU) and the Specialized Anti-Corruption Prosecutor’s Office (SAPO); more recently, in November 2025, NABU and SAPO exposed a high-level criminal organisation in the energy sector in Operation Midas, uncovering a large-scale kickback and money-laundering scheme involving state nuclear company Energoatom, senior officials, and a “back-office” laundering network that reportedly processed some USD 100 million.43 That these cases emerged under wartime conditions are strong signals that accountability is becoming institutionalized, not merely political. The ratification of the Rome Statute in 2024, after years of delay, has also strengthened the legal architecture for prosecuting war crimes and improving cooperation with international courts. However, this progress was temporarily called into question after parliament adopted legislation that weakened the independence of NABU and SAPO, triggering strong criticism from civil society and international partners. Widely perceived as an attempt to erode institutional safeguards, the law altered key procedures for leadership appointments. Following public backlash and international pressure, the president reversed course, and parliament ultimately supported legislation to restore the independence of NABU and SAPO. The episode revealed not only the political sensitivity of anti-corruption efforts but also the strength and importance of these institutions. The intensity of the response — from civil society, international actors, and reform-minded officials — highlighted the extent to which NABU and SAPO have come to serve as effective pillars of Ukraine’s anti-corruption system.

Another area of transformation is the reduction of oligarchic influence. Ukraine’s “de-oligarchization” law, adopted before the war, was enforced during it. The legislation restricts individuals who meet several criteria, such as owning media, financing parties, or having monopolistic power, from participating in public sector privatization or political financing. In response, many media owners relinquished those assets in 2022. The arrest of Ihor Kolomoisky and legal actions against other oligarchs represent an erosion of the informal political economy that shaped Ukrainian governance for decades.44 While these developments arise partially from wartime expediency, they have created space for democratic institutions to regain relevance.
Ukraine’s progress in promoting pluralism and inclusion stands out as a remarkable aspect of its democratic resilience. Despite the existential threat of war, the country has expanded political representation and safeguarded minority rights. Gender equality has made noticeable progress, driven by both institutional reforms and women’s vital roles in wartime resilience. Women’s parliamentary representation jumped from 8% in 2007 to over 20% after the 2019 elections, partly due to the 40% gender quota on party lists. Women now hold five of 21 ministerial posts and three of five deputy prime minister roles. Locally, women occupy more than 35% of leadership positions, exceeding 40% in smaller communities, showing how decentralization fosters female political engagement.
The war has also reshaped gender roles. The armed forces now include 67,000 women, with more than 10,000 in combat roles previously closed to them.45 Women lead 22% of Ukraine’s diplomatic missions, a sign of their growing prominence in international affairs. These changes signal not just numerical gains but deeper shifts in societal views on women’s capabilities. At the same time, structural inequalities persist. Men’s median wages are still 18.6% higher than women’s for the same work, and women continue to face barriers in majoritarian elections, party financing, and access to senior positions.46 Party-list quotas are often observed in name only, with women placed in unelectable slots. Residency requirements for candidates also disproportionately affect displaced women who care for children and the elderly abroad.
Ukraine has also made progress in protecting ethnic and linguistic diversity. The 2023 Law on National Minorities reaffirmed the right to use EU-recognized minority languages, including Crimean Tatar, in education, media, and political campaigning. Specific provisions exempt Crimean Tatar and other minority-language publishers from restrictive quotas on Ukrainian-language content. This law marks a major step in codifying cultural pluralism, even as restrictions remain in place for Russian, deemed the language of the aggressor state. Importantly, ethnic and religious tensions have not escalated during the war. Despite some political friction, especially regarding the Ukrainian Orthodox Church (Moscow Patriarchate), religious freedom remains protected under a liberal constitutional framework.
The situation of LGBTQ+ citizens remains more fragile. In 2024, Ukraine placed 40th of 49 European countries for LGBTQ+ rights in ILGA-Europe’s rankings.47 While the government has taken steps to guarantee equal access to health services regardless of gender identity or sexual orientation, there is still no specific anti-discrimination law to protect LGBTQ+ people.
A central barrier to political pluralism in Ukraine is the weakness of its party system. While formally multiparty, the system remains fragmented, volatile, and dominated by personalized or clientelist structures. Most parties lack clear ideological orientation, durable electoral bases, or functioning internal democracy. Many serve primarily as electoral vehicles for individual leaders or narrow interest groups. As of 2024, more than 360 political parties were formally registered in Ukraine, but very few present meaningful policy platforms or demonstrate any organizational development.48 Populist appeals, rapid rebranding, and weak accountability undermine the role of parties as vehicles of programmatic representation.
Nevertheless, moments of broad-based cooperation, particularly in parliamentary support for key defense and European integration laws, suggest that cross-party coordination is not impossible. In wartime, some major votes have passed with clear supra-factional majorities, hinting at the potential for more structured coalitions around national priorities.
Ukraine stands at several critical decision points that will determine whether wartime democratic resilience transforms into sustainable long-term democratic consolidation. It is essential to develop the necessary legal framework now, during the war, so that constitutional amendments can be introduced immediately once martial law is lifted, ensuring that postwar reconstruction proceeds within a strong democratic framework rather than opening the door to authoritarian backsliding. The window of opportunity created by wartime reform momentum, unprecedented international attention, and clear European integration aspirations won’t last forever.
The most urgent and fundamental decision involves clarifying the constitutional and legal framework governing emergency powers, civil-military relations, and the division of authority among different levels of government. The current system of military administrations operates under legal provisions that Darkovich and Hnyda (2024) characterize as dangerously ambiguous, allowing broad discretion that creates inconsistency across regions and significant potential for abuse.49 The “other grounds” clause that permits military administration creation has been interpreted so broadly that it undermines legal predictability and democratic accountability. This ambiguity extends beyond emergency governance to fundamental questions about the postwar constitutional order. Constitutional reform must establish clear, enforceable roles for the central government, oblasts, and hromadas while eliminating the legal vacuum that surrounds emergency governance. Otherwise, Ukraine risks entrenching temporary wartime practices that may be difficult to undo, potentially inflicting long-term damage on democratic governance structures. The stakes of this decision are enormous because constitutional ambiguity creates space for future power capture and institutional manipulation. If emergency powers remain poorly defined, future leaders may exploit crises, real or manufactured, to concentrate power and loosen democratic constraints. Conversely, clear constitutional provisions can create binding constraints that protect democratic governance even under extreme pressure.

This reform cannot wait until the war ends. It must be initiated while martial law is still in effect, to ensure that emergency governance does not become the default peacetime structure. Clarification is particularly urgent before the shift to reconstruction-based governance in 2026.
Key Actors: The Verkhovna Rada holds primary constitutional responsibility for amendments and must demonstrate the political will to constrain executive power even during wartime. The President’s Office, despite benefiting from current ambiguities, must recognize that long-term legitimacy depends on operating within clear legal constraints. The Constitutional Court requires full staffing and independence to interpret constitutional provisions authoritatively. International partners, particularly EU institutions, can provide technical assistance and political support for constitutional reform processes while making clear that European integration depends on constitutional clarity and democratic governance.
While Ukraine has made significant progress in judicial reform, critical institutional gaps remain that threaten to undermine these achievements. The Constitutional Court operates without full staffing, appointment processes lack complete civil society involvement, and up to 60% of judicial positions remain unfilled in some regions (Kent 2024). The judiciary remains severely under-resourced, with more than 100 court buildings damaged and many courts operating in temporary facilities that compromise both security and public access.
Completing judicial reform requires not merely filling positions but creating sustainable institutions capable of independent operation under normal and emergency conditions. This means establishing permanent mechanisms for merit-based appointments with meaningful civil society input, creating new institutional structures like a national administrative court to replace the liquidated KDAC, and building judicial infrastructure that can withstand both physical and political pressures.

The decision point is whether to treat current judicial reforms as wartime-specific that can be reversed later or as permanent institutional changes that require sustained investment and protection. The quality of this decision will determine whether Ukraine emerges with a truly independent judiciary or returns to patterns of political influence and corruption that characterized the prewar system.
This decision must be implemented before reconstruction begins, when the judicial system will face intense demands related to property rights, contract enforcement, and corruption cases. Delays could permanently undermine the judiciary’s credibility and overload a fragile system.
Key Actors: The reformed High Council of Justice and High Qualification Commission of Judges must demonstrate their effectiveness in merit-based selection while resisting political pressure from all sources. Civil society organizations require sustained funding and legal protections to maintain their oversight role in judicial appointments and performance monitoring. International partners can provide technical and financial support for judicial infrastructure modernization while maintaining political pressure for continued independence and reform.
The 2020 Electoral Code represents a democratic achievement whose preservation faces mounting challenges from wartime disruptions and potential postwar pressures for system changes. The proportional representation system with open regional lists (in which voters choose a political party and can also select a specific candidate from that party’s regional list, thereby influencing their ranking within the list) creates incentives for party development and inclusive competition that could transform Ukraine’s political landscape, but only if the system is allowed to operate through multiple electoral cycles and parties adapt to its incentives.
The critical decision is whether to maintain this system through the challenges of postwar reconstruction or to revert to previous arrangements that favored personality-driven politics and clientelist competition. Preserving the 2020 Electoral Code requires not only maintaining its legal provisions but ensuring that displaced people can participate meaningfully, that electoral infrastructure is rebuilt to support inclusive competition, and that parties receive incentives to develop programmatic rather than personalistic appeals.

This decision will fundamentally shape the trajectory of Ukrainian democracy because electoral systems create the basic incentives around which political competition develops. A reversion to majoritarian or mixed systems would likely keep party institutions weak and continue to thwart programmatic competition, which has been lacking in Ukrainian politics for decades.
Key Actors: The Central Election Commission must maintain electoral infrastructure and prepare for postwar elections under challenging conditions while ensuring that displaced people and other vulnerable groups can participate meaningfully. Political parties must adapt to the new system’s incentives for programmatic competition rather than personality-driven politics, requiring internal organizational development and ideological clarification. Civil society organizations play essential roles in voter education, election monitoring, and advocating for inclusive electoral processes.
Reduced oligarchic influence and strengthened anti-corruption institutions represent perhaps the most dramatic changes in Ukraine’s political economy since independence. The war has created unprecedented space for democratic institutions to challenge oligarchic power (Méheut 2024), but this progress requires permanent institutionalization to prevent backsliding during reconstruction, when enormous financial flows may re-create opportunities for corruption and power capture.
The “de-oligarchization” law’s enforcement during wartime demonstrated the potential for legal instruments to constrain oligarchic influence, but the law’s effectiveness depends on sustained political will and institutional capacity that may face challenges as immediate wartime unity gives way to normal political competition. The arrest of Kolomoisky and actions against other oligarchs created precedents for accountability, but isolated prosecutions are insufficient without systematic institutional changes that prevent the emergence of new oligarchic structures.
The critical decision is whether to treat anti-corruption progress as a wartime anomaly that may not survive peacetime pressures or as a permanent transformation of Ukraine’s political economy that requires sustained institutional investment and protection. This decision will largely determine whether reconstruction creates new opportunities for democratic development or merely new forms of corruption.
Key Actors: NABU, SAPO, and other anti-corruption institutions must maintain their independence and effectiveness against political pressures while expanding their capacity to handle reconstruction-related cases. The Prosecutor General’s Office and judiciary must continue supporting high-level corruption prosecutions while developing systematic approaches to preventing rather than merely punishing corruption. International partners can provide technical assistance and political support for anti-corruption efforts while continuing to condition reconstruction assistance on institutional development and transparency.
Failure to support Ukraine’s democratic consolidation now will have profound long-term consequences extending far beyond Ukraine’s borders. The costs of insufficient support are both immediate and generational, affecting regional stability, international democratic norms, and the credibility of democratic institutions worldwide.
Without adequate support for democratic institution-building, Ukraine risks sliding into a fragile hybrid political regime beset by weak rule of law, captured institutions, and limited political competition. Its impressive decentralization achievements could be reversed as central authorities seek to control reconstruction resources, eliminating the local governance structures that proved so vital during wartime.

The judicial reforms implemented under extreme pressure could collapse without sustained support, returning Ukraine to a system of politically influenced courts and widespread corruption. This would undermine public trust in democratic institutions and create space for authoritarian actors to exploit grievances and divisions.
The progress made in gender equality and minority rights could stagnate or reverse as traditional power structures reassert themselves during reconstruction. Without strong democratic institutions to protect pluralism, Ukraine could experience increased polarization and exclusion of marginalized groups from political participation.
Without transparent, accountable governance structures, reconstruction efforts would be vulnerable to corruption and elite capture. International donors would lose confidence in Ukraine’s ability to use assistance effectively, reducing the flow of reconstruction aid and prolonging economic recovery.
Weak institutions would struggle to attract sustainable foreign investment or implement the structural reforms necessary for EU membership, trapping Ukraine in a cycle of economic dependence and political instability.
The absence of effective decentralized governance would prevent communities from participating meaningfully in reconstruction planning, leading to projects that fail to meet local needs and waste scarce resources.
A fragile hybrid regime in Ukraine would create a zone of instability in the heart of Europe, vulnerable to renewed Russian interference and aggression. Weak institutions would be unable to resist corruption, organized crime, and external manipulation, potentially spreading these problems to neighboring countries.
The failure of democratic consolidation in Ukraine would send a powerful signal to other postconflict societies that democracy cannot deliver effective governance under pressure. This would strengthen authoritarian narratives worldwide and discourage democratic reforms in fragile states.
The country’s European integration would become impossible without functioning democratic institutions, leaving Ukraine in a geopolitical gray zone that invites further Russian aggression, undermining the EU’s expansion strategy, and weakening the broader European project.
To ensure Ukraine’s successful democratic consolidation and secure European future, the following strategic actions must be implemented:

Volodymyr Dubovyk
The war in Ukraine, now in its fourth year, has evolved into one of the most geopolitically consequential conflicts since the end of the Cold War. It is a brutal and ongoing assault by a revisionist authoritarian state against a democratic neighbor seeking integration into the Euro-Atlantic community. While the immediate violence happens on Ukrainian soil, its ramifications are global in scope and generational in impact.
A failure to support Ukraine decisively will embolden not only Russia, but all authoritarian states that rely on coercion, disinformation, and brute force to achieve their strategic goals. It will reinforce the dangerous message that international borders can be redrawn through violence and that democracies will not endure the costs of defending their partners. This outcome would deeply unsettle the transatlantic alliance, weaken the deterrent value of NATO, and undermine global norms of sovereignty, rule of law, and democratic governance.

On the other hand, a Ukraine that survives and thrives would stand as proof that democratic resilience, strategic unity, and international cooperation can overcome aggression. It would more firmly re-anchor European security, showing that collective resistance is both feasible and effective. It would also send a global message that democratic societies are willing to invest in one another’s security, prosperity, and freedom. Ukraine is not just a battlefield — it is a proving ground for the 21st-century global order.
From the outset of the war, Ukraine defied many assumptions. Analysts predicted Kyiv would fall in days. Instead, Ukraine’s armed forces held firm, leveraging their knowledge of local terrain, asymmetrical tactics, and high morale. Supported by extensive Western aid, they transitioned rapidly to NATO-standard systems and have integrated advanced technologies, including satellite-guided artillery, encrypted battlefield communications, and sophisticated drone warfare.
But Ukraine’s resilience is not only military. The country’s civil society, municipal institutions, and private sector have all contributed to a remarkable whole-of-nation resistance. Local governments have continued functioning under fire, organizing humanitarian support, restoring critical infrastructure, and maintaining basic services. Civil society organizations have emerged as vital lifelines for vulnerable populations, particularly in war-affected and occupied regions.
Public trust in the government has surged — a frequent wartime phenomenon — reflecting widespread unity and confidence in national leadership. The digital resilience of the Ukrainian state has also been groundbreaking. Services such as Diia, a national e-government platform, have continued running throughout the war, providing citizens with digital access to public services and enabling real-time communication between the state and its people.
International observers have noted Ukraine’s ability not only to absorb external support but to innovate and contribute back. Ukrainian experience in drone warfare, countering electronic warfare, and mobilizing civil defense has been studied and partially adopted by NATO allies. Ukraine is no longer just a recipient of aid — it is a laboratory of 21st-century defense.
This being said, Ukraine’s present condition — militarily embattled, reliant on ad hoc Western support, and outside of any formal alliance — is unsustainable. It may work for a while, but not in the long term. Neither the prewar status quo nor the current arrangement is an answer in a strategic sense. They embed chronic vulnerability and invite future Russian adventurism by signaling that aggression, while costly, does not necessarily meet decisive resistance or permanent exclusion from the global system.
There are multiple paths to sustainable deterrence. Full NATO membership remains the clearest and most stabilizing option, though it is politically fraught due to fears of escalation with Russia. Even without formal accession in the near term, however, NATO and Ukraine can significantly deepen operational integration. Steps include embedding Ukrainian officers in NATO command structures, joint command simulations, coordinated procurement strategies, and permanent training missions based in Ukraine.
Bilateral security agreements, especially with the United States, the United Kingdom, Poland, and the Nordic states, could provide tailored support. These compacts should include pre-authorized defense logistics pipelines, cyber and space defense cooperation, and clauses for rapid military assistance in the event of future aggression.
A further imperative is integrating Ukraine into collective intelligence frameworks. This includes real-time satellite and signals intelligence sharing, collaborative threat analysis, and coordinated responses to hybrid threats such as energy sabotage or electoral interference.

Security architecture must also include a focus on infrastructure hardening — protecting critical networks such as energy grids, telecommunications, and railways from both cyber and kinetic attacks. The resilience of Ukrainian urban centers during bombardments has been notable, but peacetime security will require extensive investment in redundancy, decentralization, and physical protection.
Finally, Ukraine must be equipped not only to defend itself but also to contribute meaningfully to regional stability. As a frontline state, it can act as a strategic buffer, early warning hub, and training ground for democratic defense forces across Eastern Europe.
Ukraine’s postwar security cannot rely solely on current, ad hoc military aid structures. A viable long-term solution must address the strategic gap created by Ukraine’s current position: outside of NATO, yet deeply enmeshed in its logistical, doctrinal, and political frameworks. Decoupling Ukraine and NATO could significantly hobble the overall European security agenda.
A return to business as usual at the potential postconflict stage — reconstruction without credible deterrence — would be strategically reckless. It would discourage both domestic mobilization and external investment, creating a cycle of instability, as Ukraine and its strategic partners are realizing. Russia continues to signal, in its turn, that kicking the can down the road will only allow it to continue its aggression against Ukraine.

One of the challenges is to harden Ukraine’s infrastructure. Much has been accomplished in that regard, but much more remains to be done, particularly on energy, the transportation grid, the communication network, and trade networks. Otherwise, Ukraine will not be as defensible and prepared as it needs to be. External assistance to Ukraine will also struggle with these hurdles if they are not addressed.
History has shown that incomplete settlements — like the Budapest Memorandum — offer only the illusion of protection. The Minsk accords, which do not provide a way out of the existing conflict, have only confirmed this. Indeed, the failure of the Minsk framework prodded Vladimir Putin to consider the full-scale invasion instead. Strategic ambiguity has served neither Ukraine nor broader European security. Hence, any viable option must address the structural weakness, and even danger, that follows from Ukraine being left out of collective security arrangements and consigned to strategic limbo.
The current coalition supporting Ukraine is a mosaic of actors — national governments, international organizations, private donors, and civil society — all contributing in different capacities. While this diversity offers flexibility and innovation, it also introduces risks of duplication, fragmentation, and strategic drift. There should be some extra efforts aimed at fine-tuning the plethora of actions designed to boost Ukraine’s defense capabilities. Otherwise, all the money and weapons sent to Ukraine will not reach their maximum effect.
To sustain support over the long term, Ukraine and its allies need better tools for coordination. A unified coordination platform could streamline aid delivery, track military and nonmilitary contributions, and assess impact in real time. It should ideally include Ukraine as an equal participant, ensuring ownership and responsiveness to local priorities. Responsibility-sharing should also be formalized, with various allies focusing on different sectors. Interoperability of contributions will be critical: Military platforms, reconstruction efforts, and digital systems should play a critical role.
Strategic fatigue is a growing concern. As domestic pressures, elections, or crises elsewhere shift attention in donor countries, there is a risk of waning commitment.
Public diplomacy is also essential. Clear, honest communication with Western publics about the stakes of Ukraine’s success and the costs of failure will help inoculate support against misinformation, economic anxiety, and war fatigue. Allies should highlight success stories — from battlefield innovations to community resilience — to reinforce the narrative of Ukraine as a worthy, effective, and values-aligned partner.
Ukraine’s physical, economic, and social reconstruction will be one of the largest in Europe since World War II, but it must do more than just rebuild what was lost. It must lay the foundations of a modern, resilient, and inclusive European democracy. Reconstruction cannot wait until the war ends. Urgent priorities such as winterization, energy grid repair, and civilian demining must be addressed in parallel with military needs. Long-term planning, meanwhile, must begin now to prevent ad hoc or politically driven recovery efforts later.
The key principles of transparency, sustainability, and conditionality should guide reconstruction. Strategic industries such as energy, transportation, and digital infrastructure deserve special attention. Private sector engagement will be crucial. Reconstruction will not succeed through public investment alone.
Strategic patience will be essential to sustaining Ukraine’s recovery and security. While there is an understandable desire for rapid results — a military victory, an economic revival, EU accession — the reality will be slower, uneven, and subject to reversals. Managing expectations, both in Ukraine and among its partners, is therefore essential. Public communication should balance optimism with realism. For example, EU accession is unlikely to happen soon, but measurable progress can be communicated as wins along the way.
Ukrainian leaders must prepare the public for a prolonged hybrid conflict scenario, where even after cessation of major hostilities, Russia may continue to employ cyberattacks, sabotage, political subversion, and economic coercion. Resilience must be understood as a permanent state of readiness, not a temporary wartime posture.

Donor countries, meanwhile, must commit to long timelines. Support cannot be contingent on short-term political cycles, budget calendars, or media trends. Planning for strategic patience also requires building institutional memory and continuity. Staffing Ukraine-related missions in foreign ministries and international organizations with long-term experts, establishing standing parliamentary groups, and creating Ukraine-focused academic and research institutions will ensure sustained intellectual and political engagement.
To better prepare for Ukraine’s future and guide strategic decisions, it is vital to explore potential scenarios based on current trajectories.
In this optimistic path, Ukraine holds its territory, gradually restores sovereignty, and integrates deeply with NATO and the EU. Security compacts evolve into full NATO membership, and Ukraine becomes a model of democratic recovery. Economic growth is robust, driven by reconstruction and digital transformation, and millions of displaced citizens return home. Russia is contained but not fully transformed, remaining a hostile neighbor but with diminished capacity.
A less favorable scenario sees major hostilities end without a peace treaty. A de facto ceasefire line freezes territorial status. Ukraine remains outside NATO but maintains strong bilateral military support. Reconstruction occurs unevenly, hampered by insecurity near the frontline. The EU remains engaged, but public fatigue reduces momentum. This scenario creates enduring geopolitical instability and economic uncertainty.
The worst-case outcome involves waning Western support due to domestic political changes, economic crises, or competing global conflicts. Ukraine, left with insufficient resources and security guarantees, struggles. Russian influence resurges through hybrid methods. Ukraine becomes a buffer zone, unstable, and vulnerable.
Each scenario underscores the urgency of proactive, sustained engagement. The choices made today will determine which future materializes. Strategic flexibility must be coupled with unwavering commitment.
A successful strategy for Ukraine requires tailored roles for key stakeholders — international partners, Ukrainian leadership, civil society, and private actors. The roadmap must be dynamic, multilayered, and time-sensitive.
For NATO and EU Members:
For Multilateral Donors and Financial Institutions:
For the Ukrainian Government:
For Society and Local Governments:
For the Private Sector:
This roadmap should be continuously revised in response to battlefield developments, geopolitical shifts, and societal feedback. But the overarching aim remains: a secure, democratic, and prosperous Ukraine as an anchor of Euro-Atlantic stability.
Volodymyr Duboyvyk, Uliana Movchan, Kseniya Sotnikova, and Sam Greene
In 10 years’ time, Ukraine will either bolster an increasingly secure, prosperous, and cohesive Europe, or it will be a deepening source of instability and conflict. One way or another, whether it is an asset or a challenge, Ukraine will be at the heart of Europe’s security landscape. The decisions that will shape that outcome, however, are not far off in the future; they are being made now.

As this report has shown, the ad hoc aid and strategic ambiguity that have characterized Western support for Ukraine since February 2022 are untenable. Partners should institutionalize support (training missions, intelligence integration, logistics hubs inside Ukraine) while hardening energy, transport, and digital networks against hybrid attack. Meanwhile, the recovery bill is vast — $524 bn at first blush, but likelier a trillion or more — with mine contamination on an unprecedented scale. Planning, rehabilitation, and transparent delivery must thus proceed even as fighting continues, rather than waiting for it to stop. Democratic choices made by Ukrainians themselves also carry long-tail effects: Constitutional clarity, completed judicial reform, and preserving the 2020 open-list electoral system will determine whether reconstruction attracts capital or recentralizes power and invites capture.
Decisions made now will determine whether Europe’s eastern flank becomes securely predictable or predictably insecure. Contingent commitments to fund reconstruction or assure a ceasefire will not suffice. Each month that passes without the effective and durable deployment of financial, military, and human resources raises the eventual cost of restoring peace and stability. Eventually, without prompt action, that cost will become insurmountable.
Three priorities are clear.
Deterrence will be made real by Europe’s ability to defend Ukraine against Russia’s current onslaught, not by its tough talk on a future assault. Europe’s credibility and homeland defense depend on hardening Ukraine’s critical energy and transport infrastructure and digital networks against physical and hybrid attack; scaling in-country defense production, logistics, and maintenance; integrating intelligence flows; and fielding permanent training missions with Ukrainian units. Ukraine already has emerged as a potent contributor to European security. By sharpening both Ukraine’s ability to defend itself and Europe’s commitment to Ukraine’s defense, these measures would reduce the risk of escalation while reassuring voters and investors that Ukraine will be insulated against Moscow’s appetites.
Ukraine already faces a trillion-dollar recovery, affecting every aspect of the country’s economic and social life. Stop-gap approaches to keeping the lights and heat on and goods flowing have bolstered wartime resilience but lack stable funding and consistent governance — a lack that multiplies the eventual cost of lasting reconstruction. Reconstruction funding needs an institutional framework now, consisting of a multinational donor platform with sufficient fiscal headroom and prudential oversight to ensure a decade-long commitment, along with a transparent and accountable Ukrainian coordination platform. Locking in these systems now will deter corruption, lower risk premiums, attract private capital, and stabilize Ukraine’s own fiscal planning.
Ukrainian politics is and will remain boisterous and fractious. The country’s wartime resilience, however, has laid an ideal foundation for a new peacetime social contract, ensuring social cohesion, investor confidence, and civic engagement as the country grapples with the massive tasks of rebuilding, reintegrating refugees, and completing the reforms required for accession to the European Union. This means acting now to set clear and binding expectations for the eventual rollback of martial law and emergency powers, reestablishing the autonomy of regional and local authorities, and enshrining the independence of the judiciary and anti-corruption institutions.
Western and Ukrainian policymakers face two truths. One, the priorities of deterrence, reconstruction, and democratic resilience are inseparable. They must advance in parallel, or none of them will endure. And two, the time for action is now. The decisions that will determine Ukraine’s future are being made now — and inaction is also a decision.
What’s at stake: Kyiv must turn battlefield stamina into institutions that citizens, investors, and allies can trust under stress: clear emergency-powers rules and center-local competencies, a sufficiently staffed and independent judiciary, protected anti-corruption bodies, inclusive first postwar elections, and radical transparency in reconstruction. If these pieces don’t lock, donors will hesitate, private capital will price in risk, and social cohesion will fray just when Ukraine will need it most.

What’s at stake: European credibility will be judged by whether Europe fields an autonomous deterrent backbone with Ukraine — training, intelligence, logistics inside Ukraine, and infrastructure hardening — while tying lending and financial aid to integrity and inclusion. If Europe leads on security and conditional financing, it preserves space for reforms and lures private capital; if it hesitates, both security and reconstruction sit on sand.

What’s at stake: Washington’s comparative advantage is its ability to hard-wire continuity through bilateral compacts, intel/cyber/space cooperation, and logistics, and to catalyze risk-taking capital alongside Europe. If predictable pipelines and cofinancing are locked in, Europe can carry the visible lead while Ukraine plugs into an institutionalized deterrent. Vacillating support, on the other hand, just leads to security gaps and stalled investment.

If Kyiv consolidates clean, inclusive institutions, if Europe assumes visible responsibility for a credible deterrent while linking major finance to reform, and if the United States supplies steadiness and risk-sharing, Ukraine can emerge by the early 2030s as a secure European democracy with a growing economy and a military able to deter renewed assault. If any part of that bargain fails, aid will become episodic, reconstruction will invite capture, and a gray-zone frontier will harden on the EU’s border. The bill will be paid either way — now, in institutions, transparency, and integrated defense, or later, in lives, capital, and strategic drift. In 2036, decisions made now will be remembered either as the moment the West understood the challenge and value of Ukraine, or as the point at which it chose to abdicate.
This report was generously supported by the Ax:son Johnson Foundation. The authors are grateful to Barbara Frye for her editing, as well as CEPA staff, including Christopher Walker, SaraJane Rzegocki, Sarah Krajewski, and Michael Newton, and other experts, for their feedback on various drafts and their invaluable advice and expertise during the project. CEPA is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, public policy institution. All opinions are those of the author(s) and do not necessarily represent the position or views of the institutions they represent or CEPA.
Volodymyr Dubovyk is a Senior Fellow with the Democratic Resilience Program at the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA).
Dr. Volodymyr Dubovyk has been working at the Odesa I. Mechnikov National University since 1992. He has been an Associate Professor at the Department of International Relations since 1996, and has acted as a Director of the Center for International Studies since 1999. Among his teaching and research interests are US foreign policy, US-Ukraine relations, Black Sea regional security, and the foreign policy of Ukraine. Dubovyk was also a Fulbright Scholar in 2016/2017.
Sam Greene is a Senior Non-Resident Fellow for the Democratic Resilience program at the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA) and Professor of Russian Politics at King’s College London (KCL).
Sam served as Director of CEPA’s Democratic Resilience Program from 2022 to 2025. Prior to that, Sam founded the Russia Institute at KCL, which he directed from 2012 to 2022. Before moving to London, he lived and worked for 13 years in Moscow, including as Director of the Center for the Study of New Media and Politics at the New Economic School and as Deputy Director of the Carnegie Moscow Center. He is the author of Moscow in Movement: Power & Politics in Putin’s Russia (Stanford, 2014) and Putin v. the People: The Perilous Politics of a Divided Russia (Yale, 2019, with Graeme Robertson), as well as numerous academic and policy papers.
An American and British citizen, Dr. Greene holds a PhD and MSc from the London School of Economics and a BSJ from Northwestern University and is an elected fellow of the British Academy of Social Sciences.
Uliana Movchan is an Ax:son Johnson Fellow with the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA).
Movchan’s research focuses on local and sub-national regime dynamics, political institutions, and democratization, particularly in the context of decentralization and wartime governance in Ukraine.
Movchan has presented her findings at major international conferences and published in academic journals, edited volumes, and policy papers. She has conducted research at leading institutions, including George Washington University, Harvard University, the University of Toronto, and the University of California, San Diego.
She holds a PhD in Political Science from V.N. Karazin Kharkiv National University and works there as an Associate Professor in the Department of Political Sciences.
Kseniya Sotnikova is an Ax:son Johnson Fellow with the Center for European Policy Analysis (CEPA).
Dr. Sotnikova is an experienced academic and practitioner with an extensive record within the Ukrainian security sector & international organizations working in the country. This includes 9 years in the Ukrainian public service, and until recently, as Senior Political Analyst at the NATO Representation to Ukraine.
She is affiliated with the George C. Marshall European Center for Security Studies, the Warsaw Euro-Atlantic Summer Academy, and an alumna of several international programs, including the Professional Fellows Program implemented by the American Councils for International Education.
CEPA is a nonpartisan, nonprofit, public policy institution. All opinions expressed are those of the author(s) alone and may not represent those of the institutions they represent or the Center for European Policy Analysis. CEPA maintains a strict intellectual independence policy across all its projects and publications.
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