Russia’s shadow war against NATO allies has moved southwards, with three drone breaches of Romanian airspace in as many days, and a surge of other incursions in recent weeks.
Together with another attack on Poland, where a Russian cruise missile struck 100 km (62 miles) from the country’s eastern border on July 30, the incidents suggest that the Kremlin is once again turning up the dial to menace alliance members in the east.
Romania shot down the three suspected Russian drones on three consecutive days from July 24-26, a first for the NATO member. The Bucharest government’s response signaled a toughening of its reaction to airspace violation, and an unstated recognition that it is being tested by Moscow.
Romanian defense analyst Radu Tudor told this author Russia was “100%” to blame for the incursions. He suggested the firmer government response followed a Russian drone strike on a housing complex in Galați in May, when two people were wounded, and a fire started. “This was probably the trigger for the Romanian and NATO decision makers to engage and down those drones,” Tudor said.
The drones, including at least one Shahed-type used by Russian forces in its war against Ukraine, were shot down across the country; one came within 100 km of the capital.
Drone incursions have significantly intensified this year, with 18 unauthorized entries reported in 2026 alone up to July 26 according to the defense ministry, out of a total of 33 since Russia invaded Ukraine in 2022.
President Nicusor Dan said it was “intolerable for the Russian Federation to continue violating Romania’s airspace.” He added: “Such actions are unacceptable and we are treating them with the utmost seriousness, alongside our allies.”
Last fall saw the most intensive attacks against NATO states, mainly in Northern and Central Europe. These eased somewhat after GRU efforts to shut down the Polish power grid over Christmas, but have never ended. While some incidents may be the result of Russian recklessness, many more are deliberate and follow a pattern, as with the Romanian incursions, last year’s undersea cable cuttings in the Baltic Sea, and drone-induced airport closures.
Romania, which lies on NATO’s eastern flank and on the shores of the Black Sea, shares a 640-km border with Ukraine and is vulnerable to spillover from the war as Russia targets Ukraine’s Black Sea ports.
“Russia has been carrying out these hybrid actions for a very long time in Romania: disinformation campaigns, cyberattacks, drone incursions, attacks on various ships in Romania’s Exclusive Economic Zone. They will certainly intensify,” said retired Romanian Gen. Dorin Toma, adding that Russia is trying to test “Romania’s limits.”
He said Romania and other European states must respond firmly to such provocations and destroy any unidentified aircraft that violate their airspace.
Last year, the Romanian parliament adopted a law allowing the country to shoot down drones breaching its airspace, but Bucharest had been timid in its response until last week. Earlier incursions were tracked but not engaged.
Last year, Romania and Poland, NATO and EU members which border Ukraine, acquired the MEROPS system, which fires short counter-drones to take down incoming unmanned aerial vehicles (UAVs), following repeated incursions along NATO’s eastern flank.
“The summer Romania shot back,” read one headline in Adevarul reflecting the tougher response.
Romania has already shut down a Russian consulate in Constanta over a previous incursion which injured two, and this week presented Russia’s ambassador to Bucharest with fragments of drones shot down in Romanian airspace. He was summoned to a meeting to protest the incursions, which he called “a set-up”. Romania also expelled a diplomat over the incident
“The Romanian side highlighted that the Russian Federation bears exclusive responsibility for all these grave incidents and for the deterioration of the regional security environment,” the Romanian foreign ministry said in a statement. Romania also recalled its ambassador to Russia for consultations in Bucharest.
European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen has called such incidents “a direct consequence of Russia’s war against Ukraine.”
Last month, a Ukrainian sea drone exploded in the Romanian port of Constanta. The Ukrainian military said it had veered off course as a result of Russian electronic warfare interference, a technique Russia has also been using to menace the Baltic states.
Alison Mutler is a British journalist who has been working in Romania for almost 35 years. She was the Associated Press bureau chief for 25 years and was part of a team that covered the Romanian revolution for the British TV channel ITN. For the past five years, she has worked for the Romanian-English website Universul.net and has been its director for the past three years.
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.
“I’m done exploring the world. I don’t mind traveling, but I want to live in Ukraine,” said Oksana, a 25-year-old from southern Ukraine who has lived in Germany since 2022.
She has learned the language, found work, and secured stable housing, yet Germany still doesn’t feel like home. She misses the familiarity of Ukraine and the sense that, as a citizen, she can influence the society around her.
But she says she is not ready to return. Russia’s war is still raging, her home remains occupied, and she wants to pursue a master’s degree at a top university, establish herself professionally, and build a fulfilling life in a free and democratic country.
Her dilemma is part of a much larger problem. Ukraine urgently needs young people to sustain its recovery, economy, and already fragile demographic future, yet it is competing for them as they gain education, legal status, and professional experience in more prosperous and peaceful countries.
Ukraine’s population was already shrinking when Vladimir Putin launched his full-scale invasion. Years of low birth rates, an aging population, and emigration had reduced its population to an estimated 42 million by early 2022. By July 2024, Kyiv said it had fallen to 35.8 million.
The loss of young, educated people is especially damaging. Many had already been seeking better education and careers abroad, but the war, and the legal and learning opportunities offered in response, made those ambitions more attractive and easier to pursue.
Amina, a young Crimean Tatar now working in London, first left Ukraine on an academic exchange after Russia occupied Bucha, where her family was living. She studied in Switzerland and then in Sweden, extending her stay because she found better professors, more imaginative teaching, and a strong international environment. She then completed her master’s at the London School of Economics.
Her story shows how temporary academic mobility can be the beginning of a life abroad. Exposure to better-resourced institutions changes students’ expectations of education and employment and, for many, returning home would feel like sacrificing their professional development.
Amina’s peer Arina, from Kyiv, presents the countercase. She left Ukraine for Romania at the beginning of the full-scale invasion, continued studying online at her Ukrainian university, and returned after several months.
She now lives in Ukraine and does not want to leave permanently, though she hopes to complete a master’s degree abroad because she sees foreign education as more competitive.
After only a short period outside Ukraine, she saw return as the obvious course. Those who complete degrees, enter the labor market, learn the language, and form relationships have a clearer alternative to going back.
Vasyl, a young man from Luhansk, moved to Warsaw for his bachelor’s studies in 2021 and had expected to return, but the full-scale invasion led him to the University of Chicago. He is now preparing for a doctorate in Ukrainian literature in California.
When asked if he could imagine living in Ukraine again, his answer was “likely no,” at least not in the foreseeable future.
After several years in the US, he said he stopped building his life around the war’s end and his eventual return. “It’s more productive to accept things as they are and go from there,” he explained. “It also helps to feel at home here.”
Vasyl’s academic work remains devoted to Ukrainian literature and culture, and he continues to closely follow his country’s politics. He could become a valuable member of the diaspora even if he doesn’t permanently return.
But such influence abroad cannot compensate for the loss of young workers, taxpayers, specialists, and future families.
Under its mid-range scenario, the Kyiv-based Centre for Economic Strategy estimates 68% of refugees aged 18–34 will remain abroad after the war. Emotional attachment may endure, but Ukraine cannot assume it will outweigh the careers, relationships, and stability they find elsewhere.
Kyiv has recognized the demographic danger, and its development strategy through 2040 includes housing support, stronger links with Ukrainians abroad, youth employment, and other measures to encourage returns.
Its recently launched Dodomu platform allows users to create personalized return plans and find information about procedures, employment, education, public services, and Ukrainian communities.
These are important steps, but they mostly help people navigate after their decision is made. They do less to persuade an ambitious graduate that returning is professionally and personally viable.
The interviews with young refugees suggest a key priority should be turning patriotic attachment into concrete professional offers.
Create Ukraine provides a useful model. The program recruits Ukrainians educated or employed abroad and places them in government institutions working on reforms, reconstruction, and European integration. Its current cohort includes 24 professionals across eight state institutions.
But a program measured in dozens cannot address a problem measured in hundreds of thousands.
A national system of paid internships, return fellowships, graduate programs, and targeted recruitment across government, municipalities, universities, reconstruction projects, civil society, and strategically important businesses could help turn the tide.
Candidates could be encouraged with defined positions, adequate compensation, and, where necessary, helped with relocation and housing before leaving employment or education abroad.
When Amina explored an opportunity connected to a Ukrainian institution in London, she found the position was unpaid. For someone who wanted to work for Ukraine, this was immediately discouraging.
And back home, foreign education is often seen as a bureaucratic liability rather than an asset. Ukraine could encourage returns by simplifying the recognition of reputable foreign degrees, while joint degrees, teaching visits, research partnerships, and paid placements could help bring professional experience home.
The problem is not that young people travel to study abroad. Amina emphasized that intercultural exchange had developed her professionally and changed how she understood and communicated Ukraine’s position.
Oksana similarly described becoming more emancipated, adaptable, resilient, and conscious of her identity while living in Germany. Ukraine could benefit from those qualities by creating institutions capable of receiving them.
Above all, Ukraine needs to continue being a country to which these young people want to return.
The interviewees repeatedly mentioned the importance of democratic institutions, the rule of law, European integration, and social inclusion. Sabina, a young woman preparing to begin her master’s at Milan’s Bocconi University, said her decision would depend on continued reform, LGBT protections, social inclusion, and confidence that her taxes would not be stolen.
Vasyl said authoritarian backsliding would repel people who might otherwise return.
It was clear these are not secondary factors to be addressed after economic reconstruction has happened. They are vital to reassure young Ukrainians that, if they return, they will be protected by institutions, treated fairly, and allowed to shape the country around them.
Most already know that their country needs them, so another campaign telling them that is unnecessary.
They need a credible path home, clear opportunities, and a country in which they can imagine building the rest of their lives.
Some interviewees’ names have been changed at their request for privacy or security reasons.
Sofia Slonovska is a CEPA Editorial Intern and a graduate of Bard College Berlin, where she studied politics, economics, and social thought. Ukrainian-born, her research interests include European security, Russia’s war against Ukraine, and transatlantic relations.
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.
2026 is the Year of Jerzy Giedroyć. Americans may be forgiven for not recognizing one of Central Europe’s leading 20th-century democratic intellectuals, but Poles have no excuse.
The Polish Senate decided to honor him last year. Most of the country’s elite, including President Karol Nawrocki, a professional historian and former director of the Institute of National Remembrance, are aware of the man and his works.
Giedroyć (1906-2000) was the founder and editor of the influential Paris-based, anti-communist journal Kultura, which featured the writings of prominent Polish intellectuals and writers and served as a platform for the radically revisionist ideas about post-World War II Poland promoted by Giedroyć and his colleague, Juliusz Mieroszewski.
Their “doctrine” made two big claims. First, establishing good relations with Poland’s eastern neighbors and formerly Polish-occupied territories — Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania — was key to maintaining Polish independence in the face of Russian imperialism.
Second, good relations with these three neighbors necessitated that Poland accept its post-war boundaries (which entailed losing large parts of former Polish lands in exchange for former German territories to the west), abandon its historically-grounded ideological and political pretensions to these countries, and recognize that their independence was in Poland’s vital interest.
Given the emotional attachment many Poles felt for these former lands in Ukraine, Belarus, and Lithuania, one can well imagine how controversial the Giedroyć-Mieroszewski position was in Poland and the hyper-patriotic Polish diaspora.
As history has shown, however, the two exiled intellectuals were right. The three independent countries to Poland’s east have served since 1991, when the Soviet Union collapsed, as a strategic buffer between Poland and its main threat from the east, Russia. For Poland, the absence of Russia on its borders (beyond the Kaliningrad exclave) is a priceless gift from history, even if Stalin did not intend it as such.
But the Giedroyć-Mieroszewski doctrine can work only if the Ukrainians, as the largest and geopolitically most important of Poland’s eastern neighbors, agree; and if Poles are willing to prioritize security and survival over ideology and history, especially with respect to Ukraine.
This year, the year of Giedroyć, Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy and his Polish counterpart, President Nawrocki, have been stress-testing his ideas.
In late May, Zelenskyy agreed to name an elite Special Operations Forces unit after the “Heroes” of the Ukrainian Insurgent Army (UPA), a nationalist guerrilla force that existed from 1942 to the mid-1950s.
It was a curious decision since Poland’s president, like many of his compatriots, argues the UPA committed an anti-Polish genocide in mid-1943 in the northwestern Ukrainian region of Volhynia.
Nawrocki stripped Zelenskyy of Poland’s highest state honor, the Order of the White Eagle. In turn, Zelenskyy returned the medal, with a tart reminder that Mussolini had also been its recipient. Adding fuel to the fire, several highly-ranked Ukrainians and Poles declared they would return their medals or pins. Finally, Nawrocki said that Poland wouldn’t support Ukraine’s European membership unless the dispute was resolved in Poland’s favor.
Ukrainians, meanwhile, argued that they weren’t honoring the UPA units involved in the wartime anti-Polish violence, but the UPA in general, which resisted both Soviet and Nazi imperialism during and after World War II.
Ukraine’s Foreign Ministry spokesman put the Ukrainian case: “Today, Ukrainian military personnel defend not only Ukraine, but also all of Europe. By initiating the awarding of an honorary title to their unit, our soldiers certainly did not intend to offend the friendly Polish people. For them, the UPA struggle symbolizes exclusively the opposition to Moscow’s imperial policy — and is in no way directed against the Poles.”
So, who’s right, and what does all of this have to do with Giedroyć and Mieroszewski?
Scholars disagree on the number of Polish and Ukrainian casualties and, more importantly, on who fired the first shot. The former range from 30,000 to 200,000, while the Ukrainian number is usually placed at one third or one fourth of the Polish total. Poles generally focus only on the Volhynian massacres in the summer of 1943. Ukrainians generally broaden the scope, sometimes going as far back as the 16th century, when Polish magnates ruthlessly exploited Ukrainian serfs, and always pointing to inter-war Poland’s anti-Ukrainian (as well as antisemitic) policies.
Poles and Ukrainians also disagree on who should be memorialized by whom. If the Ukrainian nationalist leader Stepan Bandera, whom many Ukrainians admire for his uncompromising pursuit of national liberation, is unacceptable to Poles, then shouldn’t Józef Piłsudski, who founded the modern Polish state while abandoning his Ukrainian ally at the 1921 Treaty of Riga, be unacceptable to Ukrainians? That’s not said to indicate equivalence between the two men, merely that finger-pointing is a two-way game.
The claim of genocide is equally controversial, mostly because Polish armed units engaged in anti-Ukrainian violence before, during, and after Volhynia, inflicting sizable casualties on the Ukrainians. In 1942 alone, Polish militants destroyed over 100 Ukrainian Orthodox churches just west of Volhynia.
In addition, the UPA units that committed the violence not only drew their cadres from the local Ukrainian Orthodox peasantry, but they were also riding a wave of spontaneous peasant violence directed at the thousands of Polish “colonists” who had been settled in Volhynia in the interwar period. Finally, both Poles and Ukrainians laid claim to Volhynia politically: the former regarded it as a historic part of Poland, the latter as an integral component of an independent Ukrainian state. In sum, the Volhynian conflict had ethnic, class, religious, and political dimensions and wasn’t just about crazed Ukrainians killing innocent Poles (or vice versa).
That said, it’s unquestionably true that Ukrainians killed tens of thousands of Poles and that Poles killed thousands of Ukrainians. As there were more Ukrainians than Poles in Volhynia, the former succeeded in driving out the latter in what Ukrainian historians recognize was an act of ethnic cleansing involving war crimes and crimes against humanity. But most Ukrainian historians also insist the conflict was not genocidal, if only because genocide is, by definition, one-sided — with the Nazi extermination of Jews and Roma being the classic case.
Were units of the UPA guilty of crimes? Yes. Was the UPA in its entirety guilty? No. May heroes of the UPA exist? Yes. Were the units involved in the ethnic cleansing heroes? No. Last but not least, are Poles blameless? No. Is more research needed to establish the truth about what happened in Volhynia? Absolutely.
Zelenskyy committed a tactical error by naming the unit. He should have known that Poles would be angered. But Nawrocki’s response was a strategic blunder, one that could undermine the Polish-Ukrainian alliance and weaken Ukraine’s ability to resist Russia.
Giedroyć and Mieroszewski would have been outraged. They would surely have advised Nawrocki and his Law and Justice party to stop instrumentalizing painful historical events and to remember that, notwithstanding the nostalgia with which many Poles still view their “civilizing mission” among Ukrainian peasants, such sentiments only detract from an appreciation of the reality that Poland cannot survive if Ukraine falls.
Both Giedroyć and Mieroszewski would surely agree that the first step to resolving the immediate conflict is for the politicians to shut up (at least for the duration of the war) and let the historians fight it out. Meanwhile, all sides would do well to be guided by Prime Minister Donald Tusk’s advice: “We may discuss history and our mutual relations, but in no case should we jeopardize our cooperation with Ukraine in defending it against Russia’s attack.”
Fortunately, Nawrocki and Zelenskyy appear to have engaged in a rational dialogue at the July 8 NATO summit in Ankara. That bodes well. Unfortunately, the issue of contention — Volhynia — remains unresolved, and the populist temptation to play it up still remains, especially as next year’s Polish parliamentary elections approach.
That bodes less well. Giedroyć and Mieroszewski will remain relevant for a long time after 2026, the year commemorating the former, ends.
Alexander Motyl is a Professor of Political Science at Rutgers University-Newark.
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.
Chinese biotech companies have dramatically expanded out-licensing deals with global drugmakers, granting rights to their drugs nearly tenfold over the past four years, from $13.9 billion in 2021 to $137.7 billion in 2025. More than three-quarters of American pharma companies now depend on Chinese suppliers for at least some component of their drug manufacturing.
This dependence creates worrying security risks.
Yet Western policymakers and thought leaders seem deaf to the dangers. They preach careful engagement, “pragmatic risk management,” or joint venture structures to create “operational firewalls.”
“Don’t restrict Chinese biotech,” The Economist recommends. “Someone whose life is saved by a new medicine is unlikely to care whether it was invented at home or on the other side of the world.”
“Competition, not protections, is the answer,” added The Washington Post in a recent editorial.
This framing dodges the reality that China is not merely a commercial partner but a strategic competitor. What does pragmatic risk management look like in practice, and who conducts it? Biotech companies are not intelligence agencies. They cannot be expected to have the capability or tools to assess whether a Chinese partner’s research infrastructure is subject to Chinese army requisition orders, whether their partner’s data systems are accessible to Chinese state actors, or whether the talent program funding their collaborator’s salary is military-linked.
The dangers are real, ranging from accidental release to deliberate bioterrorism or bio-crimes. Biotech’s accelerating pace compounds the security risks. The same research that promises to transform healthcare, agriculture, and other sectors also increases the potential for misuse, whether through accident, negligence, or deliberate weaponization.
Chinese actors are responsible for many documented cases of misuse. In 2023, a search by a local Code Enforcement Officer uncovered an unlicensed laboratory in Reedley, California, which contained vials labelled HIV, tuberculosis, malaria, coronavirus, and Ebola, along with hundreds of laboratory mice. The owner? Chinese national Zhu Jia Bei, who maintains extensive connections to the Chinese Communist Party. This year, visitors to Zhu’s Las Vegas home reported becoming acutely ill. Investigators collected more than 1,000 samples of unknown biological materials. In another incident, two Chinese scientists were charged with attempting to smuggle into the US viable samples of a toxic fungus with potential bioweapon applications.
Beyond misuse, there’s the danger of intellectual property theft. Former GlaxoSmithKline scientists pleaded guilty in 2018 and 2022 to stealing cancer research trade secrets and sharing them with Renopharma, a Chinese biotech firm funded by $300,000 of Chinese government money. Oxford Nanopore, a British genomics company, is pursuing legal action against several affiliates of Chinese biotech company BGI for allegedly stealing trade secrets under the guise of what appeared to be a routine customer relationship.
These should not be treated as isolated cases. China’s efforts to advance its biotech industry are a national strategy. The 15th Five-Year Plan, published this year, promotes biomanufacturing (which uses biotechnology to produce commercial products at industrial scale, including vaccines, therapeutics and materials) as a new economic growth priority alongside quantum computing, brain-computer interfaces, and sixth-generation mobile communications. New quality productive forces refer to industries characterized by “high technology, high efficiency and high quality.”
The links to national security are explicit. The Five-Year Plan calls for strengthening military-civilian strategic planning, including promoting “the efficient integration of new quality productive forces and new quality combat forces, with bidirectional pull.” Military-civil fusion integrates civilian biotech assets into military development.
COVID-19 demonstrated the impact of the Chinese state commandeering civilian medical infrastructure. A new draft revision to the National Defense Mobilization Law, a mechanism enabling that resource requisition, published in April, positions medical and health “institutions” as mobilizable entities in future emergency or wartime scenarios. The practical implications: any Western biotech supply chain or research presence in China could be subject to those laws.
China’s existing export controls on certain biological technologies and materials compound this risk, meaning that research conducted in China may not always be removable. As with critical minerals, where China has already weaponized export controls to restrict gallium, germanium, and rare earths, Beijing has both the legal tools and the demonstrated willingness to prevent the exit of strategically valuable technologies and materials.
Advocates for engaging China on biotech propose a risk management strategy that is fundamentally impractical. Chinese biotech companies face legal obligations to the state that supersede any commercial contract. The decisions made today will determine whether the next crisis is manageable or not.
Dr. Samantha Hoffman is President, CEO and Co-Founder of Arclight Labs (formerly ANS Analytics LLC). She is the author of China’s Mobilization State (forthcoming). She is also an adviser to the UK-based Coalition on Secure Technology (CIM-Coalition), and Senior Fellow at the Jamestown Foundation. Dr. Hoffman holds a PhD in Politics and International Relations from the University of Nottingham (2017), an MSc in Modern Chinese Studies from the University of Oxford (2011), a BA in International Affairs from Florida State University (2010), and a BA in Chinese Language and Culture from Florida State University (2010).
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.
Tech 2030
A Roadmap for Europe-US Tech Cooperation
Why would Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, or any outside mediator, want to talk with Putin? Even if a ceasefire was achieved, as Serhii Plokhy argues in David and Goliath (Harvard Ukrainian Studies, February 2026), it would not bring lasting peace.
Neither side is content with the status quo. Russia cannot be satisfied with the Donbas rust belt for which so many have died, and Ukraine is acquiring the upper hand from its skillful use of military technology.
Putin wants Russia to retain Crimea and other lands occupied by Moscow’s forces in 2014 and after the 2022 full-scale invasion. He even demands the Donbas borderlands still controlled by Ukraine.
But Kyiv says such demands are off the table and wants Russia to return all the territory occupied since 2014 — including artifacts plundered from museums. A Russian-controlled Crimean peninsula cut off from its supply routes is not viable.
No serious peace treaty should reward the aggressor, and Putin and his inner circle must be brought before a Nuremberg-type court to face justice for their war crimes in Ukraine. They started and waged an unprovoked war in violation of the United Nations Charter as well as the Treaty of Paris, which banned war as an instrument of policy and was championed by the Kremlin in 1928.
Neither can any peace treaty ignore the fact that the International Criminal Court (ICC) has already indicted Putin for the mass kidnapping of Ukrainian children.
It must also underline Russia’s obligation to pay reparations to compensate Ukraine for lives destroyed; the education lost and careers disrupted; and long-term conditions including post-traumatic stress suffered by hundreds of thousands of people.
Besides damage to buildings and infrastructure, the Kremlin’s actions have seriously harmed the environment, poisoning land, water, air, and wildlife. The value of stolen or ruined grain should also be covered by reparations.
The UN compelled Iraq to pay $52bn for damage caused by Saddam Hussein’s invasion and occupation of Kuwait in 1990-1. It should bill Russia and collect more than $1 trillion to rebuild Ukraine. This is a huge sum, but Russia’s oil and gas reserves are substantial.
Whoever runs the Kremlin should also compensate the Russian people and ethnic minorities for their losses in a war that was Putin’s invention. There are hundreds of thousands of dead and wounded, war veterans habituated to violence and crime, the deceitful distortion and masking of information, a stagnating economy, sanctions by the free world, and an embarrassing indebtedness to China, North Korea, and Iran.
Putin has also sought to stop Kyiv from joining the European Union or NATO, but, as an independent, sovereign state, Ukraine must be free to choose its own alignment.
No lasting peace should allow Russia to be ruled by former KGB operatives and corrupt oligarchs. As in West Germany after 1945, the foundations of aggressive autocracy must be removed and the guardrails for democracy established.
This might seem an impossible task, requiring occupation by foreign forces, as in post-war Germany, but Russia has had its own progressive reformers: Count Witte, Pyotr Stolypin, Aleksandr Kerensky, Nikolai Bukharin, Andrei Sakharov, Aleksandr Yakovlev, Boris Namtsov, Alexey Navalny, Grigory Yavlinsky, Vladimir Kara-Murza, Boris Nadezhdin, and others, most of whom were repressed or killed by agents of state power.
If the bad guys are suppressed in late 2020s Russia, the good guys might flourish, as happened in West Germany under Konrad Adenauer, Willy Brandt, and most of their successors.
To clean up Russia, however, Western nations should also look to their own domestic affairs. The US administration that helped reform Germany, Italy, and Japan after World War II was led by presidents Harry Truman and Dwight D. Eisenhower, noted for their vision and ideals.
And it’s not just about Washington; Europe’s empowerment also benefited from leaders more far-sighted than most of their successors today.
Ukrainians, and their Russian neighbors, need all leaders in the free world to work for the long term, and achieve justice for Ukraine.
Walter Clemens is an Affiliate, Davis Center for Russian and Eurasian Studies, Harvard University, and Professor Emeritus of Political Science, Boston University. He wrote What Putin and Xi Owe Their Victims (2023); The Baltic Transformed: Complexity Theory and European Security (2001); Baltic Independence and Russian Empire (1991); and Can Russia Change? The USSR Confronts Global Interdependence (1990 and 2011).
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.
It was called the Clean Network initiative. The US jawboned European Union governments, and partners including Japan, India, and Australia, to remove Huawei and other Chinese vendors from their 5G networks, while laying the groundwork for similar restrictions in future 6G systems.
But most governments across Latin America, the Middle East, sub-Saharan Africa, and Southeast Asia have not followed suit. Outside of North America, Huawei holds about 40% and ZTE about 14% of the telecom equipment market.
Even in allied Europe, key countries such as Germany have resisted tearing out Chinese equipment, angry over US pressure and fearful of the cost. A new report from GSMA, a global trade body representing the telecom industry, estimates that the EU’s plan to rid its telecoms network of Chinese suppliers will cost up to €40 billion, four times more than initially estimated.
This does not mean that Chinese vendors control every network, or that the main non-Chinese telecom vendors (Sweden’s Ericsson, Finland’s Nokia, South Korea’s Samsung, and Japan’s Fujitsu and Rakuten) have been driven out of developing markets. It does mean, however, that Washington’s central strategic objective — excluding Huawei and other Chinese players like ZTE from next-generation communications infrastructure — has largely failed.
While the 5G battle looks lost, the global telco war remains far from over. The focus should shift toward 6G and its offshoots: cloud infrastructure, artificial intelligence, and cybersecurity. 5G focused on the security risks associated with Chinese mobile network equipment. 6G, by contrast, will integrate AI directly into network operations, edge computing, sensing systems, satellites, autonomous platforms, and industrial infrastructure. Next generation networks will form a core layer of the AI technology stack rather than serving as a downstream utility.
Unlike the 5G contest, the US and the EU enter the 6G race from a strong position. The US retains major advantages in chip design, AI, cloud infrastructure, and software. Its central challenge will be not only to restrict Chinese vendors at home or encourage allies to limit “high-risk” suppliers, but to build economically viable and technologically competitive alternatives. The Trump administration launched a global partnership this month with more than 20 allies to promote secure (read: non-Chinese) 6G wireless networks.
Despite the West’s technological advances, China’s advantages will be difficult to reverse. Beijing enters the 6G development cycle with structural strengths that extend beyond 5G radio technology. These include state-enabled financing, large-scale deployment experience, manufacturing depth, and long-standing commercial relationships across emerging markets. Throughout the Global South (and much of the developed North), Huawei and its Chinese cousins remain among the most affordable and fastest-to-deploy options.
Chinese state-owned commercial banks, specialized sovereign funds, and multilateral development banks have provided roughly $2.2 trillion in overseas loans and grants since 2000, many of which are associated with telco rollouts. This financial architecture helps explain why Chinese telecommunications vendors remain commercially attractive even when security concerns are understood. Huawei and ZTE are difficult to displace not simply because of their installed base or technical capabilities, but because governments and operators must weigh affordability, financing, rollout speed, maintenance, and end-to-end integration alongside trust and security.
Reversing China’s position will require more than export controls or vendor bans. It will require credible economic alternatives.
Unfortunately, US industrial coordination remains fragmented between the Federal Communications Commission, the Department of Commerce, the Department of Defense, and the Department of State. US telecommunications financing mechanisms are not structured for sustained geopolitical competition, either. Tools such as the US International Development Finance Corporation (DFC) and the Export-Import Bank of the United States (EXIM) often remain too slow, risk-averse, and inflexible for high-risk, high-stakes strategic infrastructure investments.
Transatlantic alignment will be key. US and European development finance and export credit institutions should jointly support complete 6G packages rather than isolated equipment purchases. These packages could combine radio and core equipment, fiber connections, cloud infrastructure, cybersecurity services, workforce development, and long-term maintenance. The DFC already invests in networks, data centers, and fiber-optic infrastructure, while the EU’s Global Gateway acknowledges a substantial financing gap for secure digital connectivity. Coordinating these instruments would create large financing pools, distribute project risk, reduce duplicated reviews, and make trusted infrastructure more affordable.
In addition, if Washington and Brussels coordinate their positions in the International Telecommunication Union, the 3GPP standards body, they can promote open interfaces, secure-by-design architecture, interoperable components, and internationally harmonized spectrum. If they present competing positions, they will fragment the Western market and make China’s unified offering more attractive.
The December 2025 US memorandum on “Winning the 6G Race” identifies international standards, globally harmonized spectrum, and a coalition of foreign and industry partners as prerequisites for US leadership. Europe should form the core of that coalition.
Through the end of this decade, telecommunications policy is likely to become integrated into national industrial and security strategies. The US government looks set to broaden its definition of critical communications infrastructure to include cloud computing, undersea cable landing stations, and satellite networks. Washington wants to ensure that every layer of digital infrastructure — from hardware to routing software — meets trusted vendor standards.
China won the 5G battle by combining technology with cheap financing and rapid deployment. The US and Europe will win the 6G contest only if they can offer a more technologically advanced, compelling, and affordable alternative.
Alexis Serfaty is a Managing Director at DGA-Albright Stonebridge Group, where he helps the world’s leading companies and investors understand how political and regulatory trends are influencing the development and deployment of digital networks, artificial intelligence, semiconductors, global technology supply chains, and cross-border data flows. Mr. Serfaty most recently served as the Director of Eurasia Group’s Geo-Technology Practice and previously served as a policy advisor to the Assistant Secretary of Transportation for International Affairs.
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.
Tech 2030
A Roadmap for Europe-US Tech Cooperation
It has been a long time coming, but ordinary Russians are now experiencing a fraction of the horrors inflicted by their regime upon their neighbor. Now too, they’re hearing their state-directed media hint about a darker future of mass mobilization for the despot’s war.
Unlike Russia’s military, Ukraine’s armed forces are not targeting civilians, but everyday life is nonetheless impacted by the strikes against oil refineries, arms factories, online retailers, and warehouses. For the first time in 20 years, a majority of Russians say the economy is getting worse.
It is a sign of Kremlin paranoia that its men and women in the media note all this and begin to talk about a possible uprising, complete with references to 1917.
Even the most ardent cheerleaders of Russia’s war of aggression have to acknowledge what is happening as a result of Ukrainian long-range attacks, not least because the skies of Moscow and St. Petersburg are regularly blackened by smoke from burning buildings.
Appearing on the July 25 broadcast of the radio show Morning-Z on channel Solovyov Live, military expert Andrey Klintsevich described his recent experiences on the road while wearing a military uniform and driving a military vehicle. Civilians used to wave and honk their horns to cheer for the troops, he noted, but this time they deliberately looked away. Klintsevich remarked: “This time, I only saw a tiredness in people’s eyes.” He interpreted this to mean: “We’re so sick of all of you military people.”
Loss of enthusiasm translates into a lack of desire to join the ranks of contemporary conquistadors. The number of volunteers rushing to sign military contracts has been steadily declining, despite promised benefits and sizeable cash payouts. Earlier in July, state TV host Vladimir Solovyov and member of Russia’s Federation Council Alexei Kondratiev encouraged women and those who are “wounded, sick, or crippled” to participate in the war effort.
There is a logic in the Kremlin’s public output. Media mouthpieces are given lines to take by senior regime officials during regular meetings. The approach is to recognize what worries the population and then to downplay or divert. It can also be used to signal what might be coming next, sometimes as a way of judging the public mood.
There are signals being sent and a public fear that the regime may repeat its fall 2022 decision to mobilize young Russian men. The reasoning is clear — with an estimated 450,000 dead and 1.4 million wounded, with volunteer recruitment falling and Russian forces still only making incremental territorial gains, there’s a need for new troops.
On July 22, the State Duma approved a law expanding eligibility for people with active criminal records, including defendants currently facing charges, to sign contracts with the Defense Ministry during formal mobilization periods.
Putin’s propagandists understand the mere mention of a potential mobilization has sent shockwaves through Russian society. These fears are acknowledged across the spectrum of the state media, which indicates they are perceived as a sizeable problem the Kremlin would like to override with its familiar bluster.
During the radio show Full Contact in late July, decorated state TV host Vladimir Solovyov complained about fears and rumors of an impending call-up spreading to every corner of Russia.
“Everyone is saying, ‘mobilization, mobilization,’” he said. He called for criminal prosecutions of the so-called Z-bloggers “for spreading panic” and said that he personally doesn’t see any need for mobilization “at this point in time.” Yet Solovyov did acknowledge that even his close friends no longer fall for his propaganda and believe that things are going from bad to worse, which in turn makes mobilization all but inevitable.
In recent days, other hosts have also frequently raised the topic of mobilization, and have mimicked Solovyov’s noncommittal, effusive response. They always stop short of denying the possibility that such a decision will be made, and instead claim in unison that right now, there is no need. That’s invariably quickly followed with a disclaimer that this is merely their “personal opinion.”
Chairman of the State Duma’s Defense Committee Andrey Kartapolov was asked what he thought about the widespread rumors during his recent appearance on Radio Mayak. He replied: “I don’t think anything of these rumors” and asserted that there is currently “no need for mobilization.”
Listeners with long memories will have recalled that back in 2022, none other than Kartapolov also assured Russians there would be no mobilization. It began precisely one day later.
The hard work of the Kremlin’s propagandists is somewhat undermined by military recruiters — they have been using the gossip to encourage reticent citizens to sign up now and get paid for joining, with ads that read, “Why wait for mobilization? Serve for pay.”
During the July 27 unscheduled broadcast of Solovyov’s radio show Full Contact, the host appealed to the patriotic feelings of his listeners. He asked 72-year-old retired Reserve Colonel Mikhail Khodaryonok: “Are you in retirement or in reserves, since we’re at war?” Khodaryonok played along and replied: “You know, when military actions are underway, the age is irrelevant. Any citizen can be called up to carry out any operative tasks regardless of age, if the country’s security necessitates it.” Solovyov reacted with a happy grin.
Appearing on the state TV show 60 Minutes on July 24, Director of the Center for Strategic Communications Dmitry Abzalov implored Russia to end the war as quickly as possible and consider negotiations. He stressed that the alternative is a likely mobilization. Host Olga Skabeeva angrily emphasized that Russia has no choice but to keep fighting, since US President Donald Trump hadn’t delivered an acceptable peace deal and therefore destroyed Russia’s hopes and dreams.
One day before the State Duma’s rapid passing of its law, Russia’s National Guard, known as Rosgvardia, proposed amending the wording of the existing civil-defense rules to include protection “from dangers arising during the period of mobilization, during the period of martial law, in wartime.”
Russia’s previous mobilization of 300,000 reservists in September 2022 led to public protests and a mass exodus of military-age males from the country. Putin has avoided any repeat during the past four years, but speculation suggests he may resume the process after heavily rigged elections to the State Duma this fall.
On July 25, Solovyov Live guest, the military expert Andrey Klintsevich, discussed Ukraine’s deep strike campaign against Russian targets and noted that it’s likely to continue, which will multiply public discontent and may reach a boiling point in the event of an autumn mobilization.
The only real solution—the withdrawal of the Russian forces from Ukraine to end Putin’s ill-conceived imperial adventure—remains a taboo for the Kremlin’s media puppets.
Julia Davis is a columnist for The Daily Beast and the creator of the Russian Media Monitor. She has been sanctioned by the Russian Federation for her analysis of Russia’s propaganda, war crimes, and genocidal rhetoric. She is the author of the 2024 book ‘In Their Own Words: How Russian Propagandists Reveal Putin’s Intentions’.
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.
Thanks to Ukraine’s aerial offensive or logistical lockdown of Russia, Western observers have belatedly grasped that Ukraine both has cards to play and may also be turning the tide. All too predictably, this realization, especially in Europe, has fostered the idea that we have to talk to Putin.
Presumably Ukraine’s offensive, by precluding a Russian victory, facilitates or will make it possible to arrange a ceasefire. Likewise, these still undefined talks will also involve not just Russia and Ukraine but also Europe in equally undefined roles.
Sadly, the prevalence of such chatter (supported in recent months by the leaders of France, Italy and Finland) reveals that too many have not learned enough from Russia’s aggression. The belief that Putin will recognize his losses, cash in his chips, and seriously negotiate with either Europe, the US, or Ukraine rather than keep spinning the wheel betrays just how shallow is the understanding of Putin and Russia among Western elites.
First, calls by Russians for the West to accept Moscow’s sovereignty, undoubtedly issued with the Kremlin’s assent, underscore the abiding strength of Moscow’s great power obsession (Derzhavnost’ in Russian).
Second, and more importantly, there is no sign that Putin is inclined to negotiate with anyone, beyond occasional discussions with the US administration in the frustrated hope that he will be handed victory on a plate (Secretary of State Marco Rubio has made clear that this will not happen). Instead, he is still gambling on victory, and given his worldview, ideology, and the political system he has built, this should not be a surprise. For example, at the time of publication, Ukraine says Putin plans to mobilize another 500,000 men by the fall. Moreover, he is claiming even more territory while the General Staff consistently provides mendacious reports about the progress of Russian forces.
Beyond these facts, the calls for talks with Putin emanating from Europe have neither articulated who will speak to him on behalf of whom nor is there any coherent agenda for these discussions. Since inadequate preparation foredooms any negotiations, speaking to Putin on this basis is a non-starter if not a recipe for disaster. Such calls for talks reflect just how ill-prepared Western leaders are for such discussions.
Furthermore, the idea that Putin will accept a ceasefire as the result of such negotiations is also not founded on a realistic appreciation of the man or his policies. Four years of war have led to the virtually total militarization of the Russian state and economy, along with the intensification of repression to levels that recall late Stalinism.
Moreover, like a Shakespearean villain, he has gone too far into war to return empty-handed. Since war has become the alpha and omega of Russian policy, Putin cannot suddenly announce or even negotiate a cease-fire without having to account for the estimated 1.8 million Russians killed, wounded, and missing in action, and his overall policies.
As Nina Khrushcheva has written: “Putin launched his war in Ukraine to project strength. Ending it under pressure would mean doing so from a position of weakness. For a leader whose authority rests on force and fear, such an outcome would pose an existential threat.” Neither is Putin alone the problem. Rather, the problem is the Russia he has created over the last generation. As a recent European study observed, a ceasefire, even under Putin, will probably not end Russian revisionism but merely shift it “into a different register.”
However, this should not be a counsel of despair. Instead of running after Putin in the misplaced belief that he can be brought to negotiations, we should deploy resources to bring about the only outcome that can ensure peace, namely Ukraine’s victory. Victory’s conditions are well known; they comprise the withdrawal of Russian forces, the restoration of Ukraine’s territorial integrity, including Crimea, as well as (ideally) reparations, and war crimes trials.
Furthermore, as this war shows, Ukraine cannot be left in an undefined status as a neutral state. Putin’s Russia and its military, driven as they are by dreams of imperial revanche and an institutionalized paranoid threat assessment, cannot be trusted to resist the temptation to subvert or re-invade Ukraine.
Consequently, the country must not only continue its progress to EU membership under Brussels’ stewardship, but it must also become a NATO member as soon as possible, despite Russian threats. Given Russian policy, this conclusion would hold true even if Ukraine had not become the finest and most innovative military in Europe.
Taking Ukraine into NATO would also restore Western escalation control, negate Russian nuclear threats, and revitalize the alliance. Most of all, NATO membership creates the basis for Ukraine’s full integration with the alliance’s own defense efforts and provides a tested mechanism for transferring to it the capabilities it most urgently needs to win, e.g., Patriot anti-air missiles.
Membership also accelerates Europe’s own defense regeneration. The illusion that we can find a way for Putin’s Russia to rejoin Europe dies hard. But if Europe and ideally the US are to reunite to enhance their mutual security, assisting Ukraine’s course to victory and full integration into Europe is the only way forward.
Stephen Blank is a Senior Fellow at the Foreign Policy Research Institute. www.fpri.org
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.
Over the past three decades, American output per hour increased by 85% versus 29% in Europe, reversing much of the post-World War II convergence. AI offers a window of opportunity to reverse this decline.
Yet European policymakers risk slamming this window shut by tinkering with the legal architecture that makes training possible: the Text and Data Mining exemption in the bloc’s copyright rules.
To understand the stakes, consider how AI models are built. Models do not copy or store data like a digital library. They learn from it, analyzing massive datasets of text, images, and code.
In 2019, the European Union established a forward-thinking approach via the Digital Single Market Copyright Directive. Articles 3 and 4 created a clear baseline:
- Permission to Learn: Companies can use automated techniques to analyze publicly available data.
- Rightsholder Control: Content owners retain the right to “opt out” via machine-readable code like robots.txt.
This stable framework gave European researchers, open-source developers, and startups the predictable legal environment needed to innovate without fear of constant lawsuits. It effectively institutionalized a machine-age equivalent of the human “freedom to learn.”
Despite its success, the European Parliament and several national governments are considering rolling back text and data mining protections. Media and copyright rightsholders argue for a shift toward a prior-authorization (“opt-in”) default or mandatory statutory levies on AI training data. In April 2026, the French Senate even adopted a bill introducing a restrictive legal presumption that AI models will exploit cultural content.
Reopening the text and data mining exception at this critical juncture would be a policy mistake. It threatens Europe’s competitiveness in three profound ways:
- Crushing Startups and Open Source: Shifting to a transaction-heavy, opt-in regime creates massive compliance and licensing costs. Large tech giants can afford armies of lawyers to negotiate these deals. European startups and open-source projects cannot. This regulatory burden directly drives market concentration.
- Exacerbating the Compute Deficit: Europe already faces massive energy and compute constraints compared to the US. If policymakers make Europe data-poor on top of being compute-poor, local AI development will stall entirely.
- Undermining Sovereignty: If European models are barred from learning from the open web, and open models cannot be freely fine-tuned by enterprise, SMEs, and individuals on open European data, choice will be restricted and dependence on offshore models, trained under more permissive legal frameworks, will grow.
Although the desire to protect creators and rightsholders is entirely legitimate, targeting model inputs (the data used for learning) represents the wrong mechanism. A rigorous distinction must be maintained between training inputs and generated outputs. If computers are restricted in what they can read and develop, it will stifle development and create high entry barriers.
If an AI model generates an output that duplicates a copyrighted work, or arguably unduly exploits a creator’s likeness, copyright law should punish that output. But preventing a model from analyzing public text to understand grammatical structure or scientific concepts is the equivalent of banning a human art student from visiting a public museum.
If Europe wants true technological autonomy, it must possess the domestic capability to develop, adapt, and deploy frontier AI models. Policymakers should resist the temptation to unravel the 2019 text and data mining framework. Instead, the immediate task is to make the existing opt-out mechanisms workable, standardized, and predictable.
Europe’s AI developers must retain the freedom to allow their machines to learn in order to reap the vast rewards of the AI transformation in the arts, medicine, science, and industry. If the text and data mining exception is reopened, it will not save traditional creative industries. It will only ensure that Europe watches the next digital revolution from the sidelines.
Brian Williamson is a partner at the London-based Communications Chambers consultancy. He works at the intersection of technology, economics, and policy. Clients have included governments, regulators, telcos, and tech companies. This article is adapted from a paper “The Text and Data Mining Exception is Key to AI-Driven Progress.”
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.
Tech 2030
A Roadmap for Europe-US Tech Cooperation