On Thursday, April 16, Daniel Kelemen (UC Merced) and CDDRL predoctoral fellow Hanna Folsz discussed the consequential outcome of the April 2026 Hungarian election: the victory of Peter Magyar’s Tisza Party over Viktor Orbán’s Fidesz Party in a Rethinking European Development and Security (REDS) seminar co-hosted by the Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law and The Europe Center.

Daniel Kelemen opened the talk, first offering an overview of Viktor Orbán's rise to power. In 2010, Orbán won Hungary’s nationwide election with over two-thirds majority, a majority large enough to allow him to amend the constitution. Having suffered an electoral defeat in the past, Orbán worked to centralize his power. He captured referees — courts and independent bodies — seized control of the media, and demonized and undermined the opposition. Orbán effectively changed the rules of the game, tilting the electoral playing field. 

Kelemen states that there are cases in which smaller authoritarian groups within a larger system are tolerated or protected by national parties because they deliver votes. Orbán operated with the support of Angela Merkel, the former Chancellor of Germany, who largely stopped the EU from taking action against Orbán. Orbán’s party, the Fidesz Party, was a part of Merkel’s EU-wide party, the European People’s Party (EPP), a center-right, Christian party. This support, along with the emigration of dissatisfied voters and continued funding from the EU, helped Orbán stay in power. 

However, Orbán’s Fidesz Party was kicked out of the EPP in 2021. Merkel, who was a strong supporter of Orbán, left office in 2022. Orbán’s policy also became more extreme, raising more concern from European member states. In 2022, the EU Commission cut funding to Hungary, suspending 32 billion euros. Kelemen identifies this suspension of funds as an effective step against Hungary’s regime. 

Kelemen then outlined the implications of Orbán’s fall for Hungary, the EU, and international actors, including Russia and the United States. For Hungary, it means full regime change, as the Tisza Party will likely take efforts to undo Orbán’s autocratic policy changes. For the EU, it means that policy on Ukraine and Russia will be different, because Orbán was using his veto to prevent support for Ukraine and sanctions on Russia. For the US and Russia, Russia lost its supporter and ear in the EU, and the Trump administration lost its closest ally in Europe. On a global note, Orbán was a key figure in trying to bring together far-right populists. After he was kicked out of the EPP, he formed a more autocratic-focused party called MEGA (Make Europe Great Again). 

In a Rethinking European Development and Security (REDS) seminar held on April 9, 2026,  and co-hosted by CDDRL and The Europe Center, Konstantin Sonin, a John Dewey Distinguished Service Professor at the University of Chicago Harris School of Public Policy, presented his research on “The Reverse Cargo Cult: Why Authoritarian Governments Lie to Their People,” offering a theoretical explanation for why regimes such as the Soviet Union would knowingly tell citizens visibly false statements. According to Sonin’s research, authoritarian propaganda is much more complex than simple misinformation or manipulation, as it is often designed not to convince people of a single claim, but to shape how they evaluate information more broadly. 

Sonin begins with a personal anecdote, reflecting on his own experience participating in Soviet elections where there was only one candidate on the ballot, despite the process being presented as a meaningful choice. Using this example, he questions why regimes like the Soviet Union invest so heavily in clearly staged elections or exaggerated portrayals of Western life, even when citizens recognize these distortions. From this, he introduces the idea that such actions are not meant to persuade citizens of a specific falsehood, but instead to influence how they interpret all incoming information. Drawing on the metaphor of a “reverse cargo cult,” he suggests that just as some communities misinterpret the source of Western goods, citizens in authoritarian systems may come to believe that institutions in other countries are equally performative or deceptive. In this sense, narratives about foreign countries become an integral tool for reinforcing domestic political stability. 

He further explores how citizens evaluate elections and the decision to replace an incumbent under uncertainty about both competence and trustworthiness. He recognizes that in these regimes, citizens are not entirely naïve and may often recognize when a leader is lying. However, Sonin shows that even obvious lies can be effective. When a domestic leader lies about conditions that citizens already know to be bad, it signals not only that the leader is untrustworthy but also raises the perceived likelihood that foreign leaders are similarly dishonest. As a result, citizens downgrade their expectations of potential replacements, concluding that alternatives may not be any better. This dynamic ultimately reduces the incentive to replace the incumbent. 

As his theory suggests, negative information about conditions abroad, or even skepticism toward foreign success, can benefit authoritarian leaders. For example, Sonin points to Soviet reactions to the American National Exhibition in Moscow, where displays of a typical American home were dismissed by officials as unrealistic or misleading. This kind of framing encouraged citizens to question whether life in the United States was truly better, reinforcing the idea that shortcomings at home were not unique. As a result, domestic failures appear less exceptional, helping explain why authoritarian propaganda frequently emphasizes criticism of other countries and why such narratives often reinforce one another. 

Sonin concludes by emphasizing that lying in this context is not primarily about persuading citizens of a particular false claim, but about shaping their broader beliefs about the reliability of information. By weakening trust in information overall, leaders can make bad conditions at home seem like the safer or more reliable option compared to the uncertainty of change.

In a REDS Seminar co-sponsored by CDDRL, TEC, and the Hoover Institution held on March 12, 2026, Hannah S. Chapman, the Theodore Romanoff Associate Professor of Russian Studies and an Associate Professor of International and Area Studies at the University, presented a new project exploring how crises affect authoritarian regimes’ ability to gather information from their citizens. This question connects to the well-known dictator’s dilemma, which describes the challenge authoritarian leaders face in obtaining accurate information from society while maintaining political control. Chapman’s project explores how this dilemma plays out during crises, when governments may simultaneously need more information from society while also increasing repression.

Chapman studies this question in the context of Russia, specifically focusing on the presidential appeals system in which citizens can submit appeals to the Presidential Administration via online platforms, written letters, or in person. These appeals typically address everyday governance issues such as infrastructure problems, utilities, social benefits, healthcare access, or bureaucratic disputes. Importantly, appeals are not anonymous and require individuals to submit identifying information, meaning citizens must voluntarily engage with the state to raise concerns. While these systems provide the government with valuable information about societal problems, moments of crisis raise the question of whether citizens will continue to use them as repression increases. 

To explain variation in citizen appeals during crises, Chapman introduces a theory of crisis based on two key factors that shape citizen behavior. Crisis immediacy, which refers to how directly and rapidly a crisis affects people’s everyday lives, and the government’s repressive response, meaning whether the state increases repression during the crisis. Together, these two factors shape whether citizens are willing to voluntarily engage with the state despite heightened repression and risk. To evaluate these expectations, Chapman analyzes a dataset of monthly reports produced by the Russian Presidential Administration that summarize citizen appeals. The dataset includes approximately 1.7 million appeals between 2017 and 2023, covering hundreds of categories of complaints. Using these reports, the project examines four major crises in Russia during this period: the 2018 pension reform, the COVID-19 pandemic, the 2022 invasion of Ukraine, and the partial military mobilization announced in September 2022. 

Each crisis demonstrates how immediacy and repression shape citizen behavior. The 2018 pension reform represents a low-immediacy, low-repression crisis. Although the policy change was unpopular, its effects were expected to unfold gradually, and protests were not heavily suppressed. As a result, appeals about pensions increased modestly while everyday appeals continued at normal levels. The COVID-19 pandemic represents a high-immediacy, low-repression crisis because lockdowns and economic disruptions immediately affected daily life, but restrictions were largely framed as public health measures rather than political repression. During this period, crisis-related appeals increased significantly while everyday appeals remained stable. 

The 2022 invasion of Ukraine represents a low-immediacy, high-repression crisis. Although repression increased dramatically through censorship laws and arrests for criticizing the war, the conflict initially felt distant from everyday life for many Russians. As a result, both crisis-related appeals and everyday appeals remained relatively low. Finally, the mobilization announced in September 2022 represents a high-immediacy, high-repression crisis. Because hundreds of thousands of Russians faced the immediate possibility of military conscription, crisis-related appeals increased dramatically, with approximately 42.3% of appeals related to military issues, even though everyday appeals remained suppressed. 

Chapman claims that in high-urgency crises, immediacy outweighs repression, creating an urgent incentive for citizens to seek help despite the risks. As a result, there is a spike in crisis-related appeals and a sharp decline in everyday complaints. As discussed, this is significant as systems designed to gather citizen feedback depend on citizens’ willingness to communicate with the state. Consequently, when repression increases, these channels become more fragile and less effective at capturing routine issues. As a result, authoritarian governments may lose important information about everyday problems when they most need accurate information to maintain stability.

On February 12, Stanford’s Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law (CDDRL), the Europe Center, and the Hoover Institution hosted Lucan Way, Distinguished Professor of Democracy at the University of Toronto, for a seminar titled “Economic Dependence and Authoritarianism: Russia in Comparative Perspective.” The talk, part of the REDS (Rethinking European Development and Security) series, examined the structural relationship between state resource concentration and democratic outcomes, using Russia as a central case while situating it within broader comparative patterns.

Way’s core argument centered on a simple but powerful proposition: when economic resources are concentrated in the hands of the state, autocracy becomes more likely; when resources are dispersed outside the state, democracy becomes more feasible. The key mechanism linking economic structure to regime type is the strength — or weakness — of countervailing societal power. Resource concentration generates societal dependence on political leaders. Citizens dependent on public-sector employment or state benefits face high personal costs for political opposition, including loss of income or access to essential services. Similarly, business elites reliant on state licenses, contracts, or regulatory goodwill incur substantial risks if they challenge incumbents. The result is weak opposition, limited activist networks, minimal independent funding, and fragile civil society organizations.

Way situated this framework within three major literatures on authoritarianism. First, underdevelopment (Lipset 1959; Przeworski et al. 2000) remains strongly associated with autocracy: roughly 70 percent of poor countries were autocratic between 2000 and 2021. Second, oil wealth (Ross 2001; Bellin 2004) produces an even starker pattern: about 90 percent of petrostates were authoritarian in the same period. Third, statist or weak private-sector economies (Fish 2005; Greene 2007; Arriola 2013; Rosenfeld 2021) show similar tendencies, with roughly 80 percent of the most statist countries classified as autocratic. Despite their differences — very poor African states, wealthy Middle Eastern petrostates, and middle-income statist regimes — the underlying mechanism is the same: resource concentration fosters weak countervailing power.

Russia exemplifies this structural dynamic. While the 1990s appeared to feature strong countervailing forces, including powerful oligarchs credited with supporting Boris Yeltsin’s reelection, Way argued that these actors were in fact institutionally weak. Russia’s private sector relied heavily on state connections in a system with weak courts and manipulable regulatory frameworks. The imprisonment of Mikhail Khodorkovsky after he challenged Vladimir Putin underscored the vulnerability of even the wealthiest economic actors. The broader business community remained largely passive, reflecting structural dependence rather than autonomous strength.

Statism further entrenched authoritarian control. A state-dependent middle class and political parties reliant on Kremlin financing limited the development of robust opposition. In oil-rich systems, public-sector employment and distributive benefits deepen citizens' dependence, while governments remain fiscally insulated from private-sector pressures. In underdeveloped postcolonial contexts, even modestly financed states wield disproportionate leverage over fragile economies, facilitating cooptation and repression.
Preliminary statistical evidence using V-Dem measures of “resource concentration” supports these claims. State ownership or control over key sectors correlates strongly with authoritarianism, high pro-incumbent mobilization, low opposition mobilization, media control, and weak civil society. Way acknowledged complications, including endogeneity: autocrats often increase resource concentration through nationalization or expansion of public employment. Nevertheless, certain structural conditions — such as large oil reserves, extreme underdevelopment, or historically weak private sectors — make concentration more feasible ex ante.

In conclusion, Way emphasized that autocracy is not inevitable in such contexts. However, where countervailing societal power is weak, imposing authoritarian rule becomes far easier. Across diverse regimes, economic dependence constitutes a common mechanism of authoritarian control — whether through business capture of the state or state capture of business.

At a recent REDS seminar co-hosted by the Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law and The Europe Center, Andrew Michta, Professor of Strategic Studies at the Hamilton School, delivered a sobering assessment of European security in an era of renewed great power conflict. Framed around the question “Will deterrence hold?”, Michta’s talk examined the structural weaknesses of Europe’s post–Cold War security order, the evolving threat environment posed by authoritarian powers, and the limits of both U.S. and European military preparedness.

Michta argued that Europe has spent the past three decades on what he termed a “vacation from history” — a period marked by disarmament, strategic complacency, and the belief that economic integration could substitute for hard security. The post-1990 unification of Germany, the enlargement of the European Union, and the decline of territorial defense planning reinforced the assumption that major war on the continent was no longer plausible. This mindset, he contended, left Europe strategically unprepared for Russia’s gradual re-militarization and revisionism, culminating in the 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

A central theme of the talk was the failure of the European Union to develop a credible, EU-centric security architecture. While EU elites pursued visions of a “United States of Europe,” Michta emphasized that political fragmentation, divergent threat perceptions, and regulatory obstacles have undermined collective defense capacity. Events such as Brexit, the 2015 migration crisis, and internal disagreements over Russia have further eroded cohesion. In Ukraine, these weaknesses have translated into a fragmented and often reactive European response.

Michta placed Europe’s challenges within a broader systemic context, highlighting the emergence of what he described as an “axis of dictatorships” linking Russia, China, Iran, and North Korea across the Eurasian landmass. Russia, he argued, is now fully mobilized for war, while China is expanding its military capabilities at unprecedented speed and scale. These dynamics are producing an “expanding battlefield” stretching from Eastern Europe to the Indo-Pacific, raising the prospect of simultaneous regional conflicts. Referencing warnings by NATO’s Supreme Allied Commander Europe, Michta noted that a two-theater conflict by 2027 can no longer be dismissed as implausible.

The talk also addressed the constraints facing the United States and NATO. Despite unmatched global reach, U.S. forces have been reshaped by two decades of counterterrorism operations, face recruitment shortfalls, and are constrained by an industrial base ill-suited for protracted large-scale combat operations. European NATO members, with a few notable exceptions such as Poland, Finland, and the Baltic states, lack deployable forces and the industrial capacity needed for sustained deterrence.

In conclusion, Michta outlined a more pragmatic path forward centered on what he called NATO’s “Northeast Corridor” — a coalition of states in Northern, Baltic, and Central Europe that share threat perceptions and possess credible military capabilities. With continued U.S. support, particularly in nuclear deterrence, logistics, and long-range fires, this regional core could serve as the alliance’s new center of gravity. Whether deterrence ultimately holds, Michta suggested, will depend on how quickly Europe can translate recognition of risk into concrete military and political action — and on how the war in Ukraine ultimately ends.

In a recent REDS (Rethinking European Security and Development) seminar co-hosted by Stanford’s Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law (CDDRL) and The Europe Center (TEC), Professor Kim Lane Scheppele offered a clear and urgent account of a growing crisis inside the European Union (EU): the erosion of democracy within some of its own member states. Her central claim was that the EU now faces two different democracy deficits. The first is the traditional, institutional problem — often described as the EU being “too technocratic” and “too distant” from voters. The second, and far more dangerous, is the rise of internal democratic backsliding, where member states that were once consolidated democracies begin to dismantle their own checks and balances.

Scheppele began by explaining the older, familiar form of the democracy deficit. Many key EU institutions — the European Commission, the Council, and the European Court of Justice — are not directly elected. The EU historically justified this by assuming that democratic legitimacy flowed upward from its member states. As long as all national governments were democratically elected and accountable at home, the EU’s supranational structure remained legitimate.

But this assumption has collapsed. Over the past decade, some member states, most notably Hungary, and, until recently, Poland, have shifted away from liberal democracy while still enjoying full voting rights and benefits inside the Union. Scheppele emphasized that the EU’s treaties never anticipated a scenario in which a member might stop being a democracy yet continue to shape EU policies, budgets, and laws.

The heart of the talk outlined how Hungary under Prime Minister Viktor Orbán gradually transformed into what scholars call an “electoral authoritarian” regime — a system that holds elections but systematically tilts the playing field. Scheppele detailed how Orbán’s government captured the Constitutional Court, restricted judicial independence, took control of public media, pressured private media owners, rewrote electoral laws, weakened civil society, and used EU development funds to reward loyalists. Despite this, Hungary still nominates a European Commissioner, sends Members of the European Parliament (MEPs) elected under unfair conditions, and holds veto power in the Council of the EU.

Scheppele explained why the EU’s main disciplinary tool, Article 7 of the Treaty on European Union, proved ineffective. Article 7 is designed to sanction members that violate EU values, but the final step requires the unanimous consent of all other member states. Hungary and Poland protected each other for years, making sanctions impossible.

A major turning point came when the EU created three financial conditionality systems: the Rule-of-Law Conditionality Regulation, the Recovery and Resilience Fund, and the Common Provisions Regulation. Unlike Article 7, these tools allow the EU to freeze funds when a member state violates rule-of-law standards. Scheppele noted that these mechanisms froze €137 billion for Poland and €36 billion for Hungary — pressures that contributed to Poland’s democratic opening in 2023 and helped fuel a new political challenge to Orbán.

Still, problems remain. In late 2023, the European Commission released €10.2 billion to Hungary for geopolitical reasons, despite rule-of-law violations. Scheppele warned that such political bargaining undermines the credibility of the new system.

She ended on a cautiously optimistic note: recent EU court decisions suggest that democracy itself, not just technical legal standards, may soon become an enforceable EU obligation. Yet the ultimate question remains one of political will. The EU now has tools to defend democracy from within — but must decide whether it will use them.

As Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine enters its fourth year, the resilience of international support is being tested. Public opinion in neighboring countries — many of which have absorbed refugees and face direct geopolitical pressure — has become a critical variable in sustaining aid and solidarity. In a REDS seminar talk, co-hosted by CDDRL and The Europe Center, Princeton Professor of Politics Grigore Pop-Eleches shared findings from a major research project examining what drives support for Ukraine — and whether empathy can help counter growing war fatigue.

The study draws on two waves of public opinion surveys conducted in eight countries bordering Ukraine and/or Russia: Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Hungary, Romania, Moldova, Kazakhstan, and Azerbaijan. Over 1,000 people were surveyed in each country, with a randomly assigned half receiving a brief empathy prompt. This prompt asked them to reflect on the daily challenges Ukrainians face living in a war zone. The goal was to measure whether simply imagining life in Ukraine could increase support for the Ukrainian cause.

The presentation began by outlining the stakes. Support for Ukraine has implications beyond aid flows. It affects how elites justify their positions, how international coalitions hold, and how misinformation, especially from Russia, can shift public discourse. The researchers focused on whether empathy-based interventions could increase not only emotional identification with Ukrainians, but also concrete actions such as signing petitions, donating money, or supporting humanitarian and military aid.

The results were striking. The empathy prompt had a clear and consistent effect: participants who received it expressed more sympathy for Ukrainians, more concern for their well-being, and greater willingness to support aid, both humanitarian and military. Statistical tests showed that these effects were driven by increased emotional connection (not concerns about the security of their own country), highlighting the central role of affective empathy.

Importantly, the effects were not uniform. They were strongest in countries like Hungary and Lithuania, and among individuals with strong attachments to their own national group and among those who had not previously interacted with Ukrainian refugees. Conversely, those who identified closer with Russians or who regularly consumed Russian media showed weaker or even no response. This suggests that perspective-taking can be powerful — but only in the absence of competing narratives.

The presentation concluded with a discussion of the broader implications. Empathy may offer a low-cost, scalable way to strengthen international solidarity — but its success depends on timing, exposure, and context. In countries with few refugees or limited media exposure to Ukraine, empathy interventions can fill an important emotional gap. However, where pro-Russian sentiment or misinformation dominates, their effects are muted.

At a moment when global support for Ukraine hangs in the balance, this research offers an encouraging insight: even brief moments of reflection can move people toward solidarity — if the conditions are right.

On April 17, 2025, Stanford’s Center on Democracy, Development and the Rule of Law (CDDRL), alongside The Europe Center and the Hoover Institution, hosted a seminar entitled “The Russo-Ukraine War: Peace for Our Time?” featuring Syracuse University Professor of Political Science Brian Taylor. The seminar examined the state of the war, the prospects for peace, and the political dynamics shaping both Ukrainian resistance and Russian aggression. Taylor emphasized that, despite mounting casualties and economic costs, peace remains unlikely in the foreseeable future due to the ideological rigidity and strategic goals of Vladimir Putin’s regime.

Putin’s own speeches, notably from February 2022 and June 2024, underscore his belief that Ukraine lacks legitimate statehood and is a ‘Western puppet.’ He accuses Kyiv of fostering “neanderthal nationalism” and allowing NATO to develop Ukraine as a military outpost. These views culminated in his June 2024 and April 2025 peace proposals, which demand complete Ukrainian military withdrawal from occupied regions, recognition of Russian sovereignty over Crimea, Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson, and Ukraine’s permanent neutrality, demilitarization, and “denazification.” These demands remain wholly unacceptable to Ukraine, where President Zelensky has repeatedly asserted that ceding territory violates the constitution and would betray over a million Ukrainian citizens still living in unoccupied portions of the contested areas.

The seminar highlighted three core issues blocking peace: territorial integrity, security guarantees, and domestic political sovereignty. Ukraine insists on reclaiming all occupied land and seeks NATO membership or bilateral security commitments from Western powers. Meanwhile, Russia demands not only territorial concessions but also structural constraints on Ukraine’s military capabilities and internal laws. The Kremlin's calls for “denazification” include repealing post-2014 legislation on language and historical memory — proposals Ukraine sees as direct infringements on its sovereignty.

Territorially, the stakes are high. Ukraine holds parts of Kherson, Donetsk, and Zaporizhzhia, and is unwilling to legitimize Russian claims. International law supports Ukraine’s position: the UN Charter, Budapest Memorandum, and several treaties confirm Russia’s previous recognition of Ukrainian borders. The war, as NATO Secretary General Jens Stoltenberg described, is the largest attempted annexation in Europe since World War II — a recolonization effort with severe implications for the international order.

On the battlefield, the war shows no signs of abating. Russian casualties exceeded 400,000 in 2024 alone, yet recruitment incentives and resource reserves remain robust. Some analysts argue that Putin is ideologically committed and politically insulated, making him indifferent to the war’s costs. Ceasefire discussions, while briefly floated in early 2025, have faltered amid escalating demands.

Taylor also explored the U.S. political context. President Donald Trump’s shifting rhetoric — from claiming he could end the war in 24 hours to hedging that he would “like to get it settled” — reflects uncertainty about future American policy. According to Russian sources, Putin believes he can manipulate Trump to secure favorable terms.

Ultimately, Taylor concluded that both sides see more advantage in fighting than in negotiating. The war is deeply rooted in Putin’s imperial ambition and ideological confrontation, not just geopolitics. Without dramatic shifts in leadership or battlefield fortunes, peace will remain elusive.

A full recording of Professor Taylor's seminar can be viewed below:

McGill University Professor of Political Science Juliet Johnson unpacked how central banks use their own museums to support the ‘stability narrative’ and promote confidence in financial institutions. She discussed her research in a recent REDS seminar co-sponsored by CDDRL and The Europe Center.

Central banks may be unique among government bureaucracies because of their investment in their own museums. Central banks focus on public outreach because monetary systems depend on collective belief in the value of money, as it is one of the most essential social contracts upon which modern society is built.

Museums can be effective instruments for improving faith in money and financial institutions. Visitors are unusually receptive to learning from museums because museums are often viewed as neutral, trusted guides. The number of central bank museums has increased significantly over the last two decades, and some get many visitors yearly. The Museum Bank Indonesia has an impressive 10,781 Google reviews and a 4.7-star rating.

The nearly 60 central bank museums that focus on economic education (in addition to numismatics and/or art) promote what Johnson calls the stability narrative, which is that central banks can maintain the value and security of money, represent the nation, and have become progressively more effective over time.

Through interactive exhibits and games, these museums aim to teach visitors that the central bank is needed to fight the evils of inflation. For example, the Bank of Finland museum has a display that features a green inflation monster to convey this sentiment. They use the exhibits to emphasize how people can be personally affected by inflation and, in many cases, to explain why maintaining a 2% inflation rate is ideal for protecting the value of money.

Central banks convey a sense of security to visitors through exhibits about detecting counterfeit money, regulating banks, and displaying their wealth, such as with gold bars. They tie their work to national pride through art displays about national heroes depicted on currency and by relating their work to prominent historical events. Through visual timelines, they convey how central bankers have learned from past mistakes and solved problems, making them more equipped to continue ensuring the stability of our financial system.

The rise of central bank museums exhibits the importance of improving public confidence in money and the financial institutions that control it, legitimizing an essential aspect of our society. 

At a CDDRL weekly seminar, American University Political Scientist Keith Darden examined how the Russian-Ukrainian war is reshaping European institutions. The talk was part of the REDS seminar series, organized in partnership with The Europe Center and the Hoover Institution. While some expected that heightened military threats would drive greater European Union (EU) unity and integration, Darden argued that the war is instead reinforcing national institutions and re-nationalizing Europe.

First, the war has shifted power dynamics within the EU, strengthening newer member states, particularly those from post-enlargement waves in Eastern Europe. Unlike older Western European members, these states do not share the post-WWII commitment to anti-nationalism that has underpinned European integration. Countries such as Poland and Hungary have adopted nationalist policies that challenge the EU’s foundational ideals, treating European regulations as discretionary rather than binding. This shift has weakened the EU’s ability to act as a unified political entity.

Second, while the war has spurred European military rearmament, this has occurred along national rather than EU-wide lines. Defense spending has surged across the continent, yet procurement remains fragmented, with countries prioritizing domestic industries and bilateral agreements over collective EU initiatives. Military aid to Ukraine, rather than being coordinated by European institutions, has largely been managed through U.S.-led bilateral mechanisms. This reflects the EU’s limited role in security policy. Historically, existential threats have led to fiscal centralization—the concentration of taxation and spending powers at a higher level of government to fund collective defense. However, the EU is restricted by its treaties from directly allocating budgeted funds for military expenditures, limiting its ability to centralize security coordination or build stronger institutional frameworks in response to the war.

Third, the war has heightened national identity politics across Europe, further undermining European integration. Instead of fostering a shared European identity, the conflict has reinforced national distinctions. In Ukraine, the war has fueled policies emphasizing language, media control, and historical narratives rooted in nationalism. Within the EU, it has led to unilateral trade restrictions, violations of Schengen rules, and disputes over migration policies. These trends have strengthened sovereignty-based decision-making at the national level rather than pushing Europe toward deeper federalism.

Darden situated these findings within broader theories of state-building. Drawing from bellicist theories, he explained that war has historically driven state-building by centralizing fiscal capacity and consolidating power. However, unlike past cases where war led to greater political integration, the EU remains structurally constrained by its reliance on voluntary market-based cooperation rather than centralized security imperatives. Kelemen and McNamara (2022) argue that the EU’s fragmented institutional development results from the absence of war-induced fiscal consolidation. Even with the return of war to Europe, integration has not accelerated; instead, security responses have remained decentralized, with national governments taking the lead.

Darden concluded that the war is reinforcing the dominance of the nation-state rather than strengthening the EU as a collective entity. Despite increased military spending, European defense remains disjointed, and the war’s institutional impact is shaped by national identities, security alternatives, and EU governance constraints. Far from unifying Europe, the war may ultimately weaken the post-WWII European project.