Ukraine faces decisive months ahead as key allies gear up for crunch elections. While early presidential campaigning in the US and a looming general election in Poland will grab the international headlines, a snap election in Slovakia on 30 September may prove every bit as consequential. 

With Robert Fico — Slovakia’s former prime minister and one of the West’s most outspoken critics of the Ukrainian war effort — poised to win the vote, a change of government in Bratislava could have a profound effect on EU policymaking. Fico has promised that if his party makes it into government “we will not send a single bullet to Ukraine,” proudly proclaiming that “I allow myself to have a different opinion to that of the United States” on the war.  

Fico has also claimed on the campaign trail that “war always comes from the West and peace from the East,” and that “what is happening today is unnecessary killing, it is the emptying of warehouses to force countries to buy more American weapons.” Such statements have resulted in him being blacklisted by Kyiv as a spreader of Russian propaganda.  

Yet the former prime minister spearheads a new brand of Left-wing, anti-American populism that has become a powerful force in Central Europe since the war began. Perceptions that “the Americans occupy us” — as one MP in Fico’s Smer party evocatively put it — are shared with a similar groundswell of anti-Western opinion in the neighbouring Czech Republic.  

Yet Smer has been handed a chance to gain power thanks to the chaos which has engulfed Slovakia’s pro-EU, pro-Western forces. Personal grievances coupled with serious policy errors tore apart a four-party coalition formed after elections in 2020, leaving Fico to capitalise on heightened mistrust in establishment politics. Smer is expected to become the nation’s largest party after this month’s election, with an anticipated 20% of the vote.  

Whatever the specific makeup of the new government, if Smer is the largest party it will likely pursue a foreign policy similar to that of Viktor Orbán’s government in Hungary. A halt to until-now generous Slovak arms shipments to Ukraine is Fico’s central electoral pledge, while the arrival on the scene of another Orbán-style government prepared to obstruct EU aid efforts for Ukraine would create a serious headache. That is particularly the case as Brussels struggles to win support for both short and long-term war funding commitments. 

Victory for Fico would also amplify Orbán’s scepticism about the overall Western narrative on Ukraine — a scepticism which the Hungarian Prime Minister recently conveyed to Western conservatives during an interview with Tucker Carlson. Orbán portrayed Ukraine’s attempts to win back the territories taken by Russia as ultimately hopeless and claimed that Donald Trump’s promise to end the war quickly makes him “the man who can save the Western world”. 

Like Trump in America and Orbán in Europe, Fico is hated with a passion by establishment forces. But in Slovakia, the pro-Western establishment itself has become so mistrusted that power may soon pass to a man intent on shattering what’s left of European unity on Ukraine. 

In the years between the 2016 Brexit vote and eventual departure from the European Union in 2020, a debate raged in Britain as to how the new relationship with the bloc might take shape. Effectively, the debate boiled down to the trade-offs between political sovereignty and the economic benefits of free trade. It’s therefore interesting to see the same arguments being made about America’s current trade war with Canada. The dispute over tariffs has seen Mark Carney choose between economic efficiency — conceding to Trump’s demands — or political sovereignty — rejecting Trump’s demands. But have Brexit’s Remainers changed their tune over Canada?

Many of those who voted Leave were prepared to accept a degree of increased trade friction with the EU in exchange for greater freedom over policies affecting the British public. But, for many on the Remain side of the argument, sovereignty was an illusory concept. What mattered were the economic benefits of exchange with the EU. Sovereignty was expendable. Increased economic output from lower trade barriers mattered above all else. The former Bank of England economist Danny Blanchflower memorably declared, “You can’t eat sovereignty”.

So, when it came to the Brexit negotiations, many commentators who had voted Remain took the view that Britain should do whatever necessary to retain frictionless trade with the EU. If that meant sacrificing sovereignty, it was an easy price to pay because national sovereignty, in this day and age, wasn’t real, anyway.

This attitude manifested itself in the 2018 withdrawal agreement, which would have placed Britain in a customs union with the EU. Britain would have been required to accept the EU’s external tariff policies, but would have little say on them. The British government would be prohibited from showing any preference to its domestic industries or pursuing economic policies which adversely affected European economies.

Ultimately, the Brexit deal that was agreed in 2019 only applied such conditions to Northern Ireland. Sensible commentators told us that it was essential that Britain internally divide itself in this way; otherwise, there could be violence in Ireland. Throughout the negotiations with the EU, the spectre of political violence was raised as a threat against the British government should it seek to assert the territorial integrity of its own national boundaries.

So, how curious it is now to read the commentary from Remain-inclined commentators in the wake of the trade standoff between the US and Canada. The Trump administration has told Canada that to secure special, low-tariff access to US markets, it must accept the external tariffs that apply to other countries. Canada must also limit its “Buy Canadian” practices. Trump has deployed all kinds of threats, attracting much criticism for his sabre-rattling.

Mark Carney has stood firm. He has said these impositions go too far. To agree to an external tariff set by the US would be to compromise an integral part of Canadian sovereignty. He refuses to accept American terms of the trade deal and will opt for mutual tariff barriers on goods that had hitherto been items of free or low-tariff trade.

Carney has admitted that it “will raise costs and reduce choice for Canadians”. But he has taken the view that protecting key aspects of Canada’s policy autonomy is more important than lower consumer goods prices and less red tape with the US, its largest trading partner. Polls show the Canadian public supports him.

These arguments may strike some British observers as rather interesting, given that Carney appeared to take a different view when he was governor of the Bank of England. Likewise, commentators who once suggested that “sovereignty” was some kind of Right-wing fantasy are now praising Carney for standing up for Canadian sovereignty against the US. Many such examples can be found in the Guardian. Jonathan Freedland once denounced British Leavers as suffering from a “sovereignty delusion” but has praised Carney’s “defiant patriotism” against Trump. Rafael Behr diagnosed a “syndrome: a Brexit model that makes a sacred principle of sovereignty” from which the gains were “nil, while the costs are mounting”. He has since criticized the Trump administration’s “protection racket”, adding that “the price is paid in sovereignty”. Earlier this week, the Guardian leader heaped praise on Canada for “fighting for its sovereignty while the US appears to be fighting for cheaper goods”.

This contrast suggests that some commentators have not been arguing from a point of principle but instead from a kind of motivated reasoning, depending on the ideological valence of the actors involved. The script across so much of the commentariat seems to be this: if the EU does something, it’s good and fine, while those who resist it are nasty or deluded. If the Trump administration does something, it is wicked and idiotic, but those who resist it are heroic and virtuous. The public debate deserves better arguments than this.

---

Richard Johnson is a Senior Lecturer in Politics at Queen Mary University of London.

richardmarcj

---