The Central European Divide: History Underpins Inconsistent Ukraine Policy

With reports that Ukrainian military forces are running out of ammunition, that younger men are needing to be mobilised, and in the face of relentless Russian aggression, increasing attention is being turned to the commitment of the international community to support Kyiv. Whilst this mainly focuses on the United States and the major European powers such as Germany, France and the UK, those states closer to Ukraine tend to slide under the radar.

Expended munitions in Ukraine. Source: NBC News

Whilst Poland has been steadfast and generous in its aid to its eastern neighbour, little is heard of the contributions of the four central European states of Austria, Czechia, Slovakia and Hungary. Despite their proximity to one another, their shared histories and common membership within the European Union (EU), these states have largely charted their own course, particularly on the Ukraine issue.

This should come as little surprise. Historic melting pots of cultures, invaded, incorporated and freed by diverse powers over centuries, there is an inherent nationalist pride in each country, with sovereign choice absolute. Whilst a common policy not only on Ukraine but immigration, EU integration and democratic stabilisation might make sense, these four states continue to steer alone.

All territories were once part of the sprawling, sclerotic, polyglot Holy Roman Empire. This bizarre historic construction saw elected emperors rule over vast swathes of central European territory with varying degrees of control. The power of the empire attracted the nefarious attention of numerous enemies, particularly the French in the west and the Ottoman Turks in the east. Indeed, had the Ottomans succeeded in taking the imperial city of Vienna during the sieges of 1529 or 1683, the map of Europe may have changed irrevocably.

Lands of the Holy Roman Empire in the 16th century. Source: Owlcation

Whilst Austria was central to the empire, nationalist movements in the Czech, Slovakian and Hungarian heartlands frequently turned the emperor’s head. Whilst at various times he was crowned king of Hungary or Bohemia, at others he was ousted for a local leader. These were, naturally, the lands that suffered most during the empire’s frequent wars, with Hungary and Slovakia long occupied and subjugated by the Ottomans. The Thirty Years’ War, in particular, wrought devastation and massive population loss. It originated in Prague, when three Catholic nobles who supported the claim of the Habsburg heir to the Holy Roman Empire becoming King of Bohemia, were defenestrated by local Protestant leaders. A bloody religious conflict, infused with territorial jockeying, ensued. Central Europe would not recover for a century.

Defenestration of Prague. Source: Wikimedia Commons

From the mid-19th century, the Austro-Hungarian Empire shackled together the disparate central European territories, a new Holy Roman Empire minus the German lands. The relationship between the two crowns in Vienna and Budapest was never cordial and nationalist and ethnic discord soured attempts at assimilation. The Empire’s troubles would be a direct cause for World War One, when Archduke Franz Ferdinand was assassinated in Sarajevo by Serb separatists. The Empire imploded during the subsequent conflict.

Before the ashes of World War One were swept away and the newly independent central European states could gather momentum, Nazism shrouded the continent in darkness. Subsumed into Hitler’s evil empire, succour came from an eventual Allied victory. But whilst Austria was able to forge a future aligned with western Europe, Hungary and the unhappily married Czechoslovakia fell under the Soviet yoke. It would be another half-century before the USSR crumbled, its demise ushered in by the revolutions of 1989. The Czechs and Slovaks would only seal their divorce in 1993.

Crowds celebrate the Velvet Revolution in Prague in 1989. Source: Reddit

Given this history of enforced cohabitation and interference from outside powers, it is unsurprising that the central European states are wary of any infringement on their independent decision-making.

The Czechs have been consistently strong supporters of Kyiv, their government having recently established an initiative to buy hundreds of thousands of artillery shells for Ukrainian forces. The Slovakian government, however, has refused to join the initiative. Populist-nationalist leader Robert Fico has vowed that his country will not send “one more round of ammunition” to Ukraine. And yet a Slovakian crowdfunding campaign has exceeded its target of €1m to support the Czech initiative.

Viktor Orban’s Hungarian government, meanwhile, has remained Vladimir Putin’s biggest ally in the EU. Having degraded Hungarian democracy, preyed upon domestic fears of an immigrant wave from the east, and revelled in obstructing continental accord, Orban has disgraced himself in the face of Ukrainian desperation.

Vladimir Putin with Viktor Orban. Source: Euractiv

Austria’s situation is more complex. Trumpeting its ‘historic neutrality’, the government has paid lip service to supporting Ukraine and has contributed some money to EU support efforts. Yet simultaneously it has maintained strong economic ties to Russia. As one commentator noted, ‘Vienna doesn’t want to be seen openly supporting Moscow, but it’s also wary of doing permanent damage to a relationship that has been quite lucrative for the country for decades’.

Central Europe serves as an example of the wider issue of maintaining a sufficient level of support for the Ukrainian war effort against Russia. National interests trump a cohesive response and for these four states, their pasts reveal why.

Additional source

Rady, M. (2020). The Habsburgs: The Rise and Fall of a World Power

Kim Comes Bearing Arms: Putin Rolls Out Red Carpet in Sign of Desperation

In April 1950 Kim Il-sung, the leader of North Korea, travelled by armoured train to Moscow to meet Joseph Stalin. Kim’s visit was to request military support for his impending invasion of South Korea from the Soviet dictator. Stalin agreed to send Pyongyang experienced World War Two military advisors, in addition to huge shipments of weapons and supplies. It followed a similar visit by Kim in March 1949, in which he pleaded for economic, technical and cultural assistance from the Soviets in his bid to build a flourishing communist society.

Kim Il-sung with Stalin. Source: LinkedIn

Having seemingly been convinced that the USA would not intervene in a war on the Korean Peninsula, Stalin had purportedly given Kim his blessing for the planned invasion at the start of 1950. Having had the seal of approval from the leader of the communist world, and backed by promises of weapons, Kim authorised the attack against his southern neighbours in June 1950.

The Korean War lasted for three years, embroiled not only the USA but also communist China, resulted in upwards of 2 million combatant casualties and perhaps 3 million civilian deaths. The Korean Peninsula remained divided between diametrically opposed states, who have not signed a peace treaty formally ending the war more than 70 years after an armistice was declared.

A US Air Force fighter pursues a Soviet MiG-15 during the Korean War. Source: National Museum of the United States Air Force

Fast-forward to 2023 and another North Korean leader, Kim Il-sung’s grandson Kim Jong-un, is planning his own trip to Russia in his armoured train. He will be granted an audience by Stalin’s successor, a man with similarly brutal and megalomaniacal tendencies, Vladimir Putin. Only this time the younger Kim will not be coming cap-in-hand asking for favours. Instead, he will likely be looking to finalise the sale of North Korean arms to Russia as Putin continues to wage his war against neighbouring Ukraine.

The extent and quality of North Korea’s weapons inventory is unknown. Yet, given that the country spends a disproportionate amount of its GDP on its military, at the expense of its starving, impoverished people, there is clearly a deal to be done with Moscow. Indeed, American sources suggest that Russian Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu begged Kim for weapons when he visited North Korea in July.

Kim shows off his missile collection to Sergei Shoigu. Source: BBC News

It would be inconceivable to think of previous Russian rulers asking for material support from North Korea. The Hermit Kingdom maintains very few bilateral ties given its isolationist tendencies, relies heavily on China for its survival and sees wild policy swings based on the whims of its leaders. A far from dependable ally, it is surely a sign of Putin’s desperation that he is calling Kim to town.

Last year Pyongyang recognised the illegal breakaway republics of Luhansk and Donetsk, before offering to send Russia 100,000 of its own troops to fight in the Donbas. Even Stalin refused to commit Soviet personnel to the frontlines in Korea in 1950.

Whilst Russia has maintained relations with North Korea since its founding in 1948, and the two countries share a short international border, the Kremlin has traditionally been wary of bolstering the Kim regime too much. Pyongyang’s nuclear sabre-rattling understandably concerns its giant neighbour and Russia has sided with the other great powers at the UN Security Council in a bid to slow the pace of North Korea’s nuclear development. That is unlikely to happen now, with Putin himself threatening to use nuclear weapons in Ukraine and Kim likely to extract every concession he can from any arms deal with Russia.

Kim met Putin in Vladivostok in 2019. Source: Sky News

What price Kim might squeeze from President Putin is a worrying, and unknowable, prospect. It is hard to imagine Joseph Stalin plummeting to such desperate depths, unthinkable that he might transfer advanced weapons technology to the Kim regime. But Putin might and he might soon. His depravity knows no bounds, his obsession with bringing Ukraine to heel seemingly untameable. When Kim Jong-un sees the red carpet unfurled in front of his armoured train, he will be taking a famous step in his country’s short and eclectic history.