When Yulia Navalnaya accepted the 2023 Oscar for the film about her husband — Putin’s chief political rival then jailed in Russia — she never mentioned Ukraine: the country bombed daily by the regime they allegedly opposed.

Navalny was the “good Russian” — outspoken, dead in unjust captivity under strange circumstances — and highly controversial for Ukrainians who remembered his words: Crimea would remain part of Russia. In his agenda, the war was “Putin’s aggression”—not centuries of Russian imperialism.

The echo repeated two years later, when Anora — a saga about the affair between a sex worker and the son of a Russian oligarch — swept five Oscars, including Best Picture. Months before, Russian actors on stage, including Yuri Borisov, who starred in Kremlin propaganda films and visited occupied Crimea, were showered with standing ovations at Cannes.

Since 2022, Ukraine’s war has extended beyond the battlefield, capturing the world’s attention. In reality, some of its deadliest frontlines run along Eurovision contests, literary classics readings, and opera performances — all viable tools of Russian soft power and imperial messaging.

And here is the uncomfortable truth: Western audiences can’t spot the difference between Russian dissidents and Russian imperialists. Ukrainians can — and they’re tired of explaining why it matters.

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“Any conversation about Ukraine quickly turns into a conversation about Russia’s problems”

In 2022, Olha Rudenko, editor of The Kyiv Independent, sparked this discussion in her social media post criticizing Western roundtables and discussions about Ukraine for routinely inviting “good” Russians, arguing that this practice leads to the Ukrainian narrative being overshadowed or hijacked by Russian voices, even when the topic is Ukraine’s reconstruction or the war itself.

According to Rudenko, mixing Russian and Ukrainian narratives in these forums is not only wrong but deeply inappropriate because the war is fundamentally about Ukraine’s sovereignty and identity, which Ukrainians are defending at great cost.

“It is important for our future that Russia is reborn into something normal. But that doesn’t mean that every conversation about Ukraine [should be] a conversation about Russia,” Rudenko wrote. “Such mixing is a shameful and humiliating practice that directly follows both old Soviet and more recent Kremlin narratives.”

She also criticizes Russian liberals and independent media for lacking responsibility and self-reflection about their society’s support for the war, describing them as seeing themselves as “hero victims” rather than confronting their complicity.

For example, just recently this year, the Russian opposition outlet Meduza launched a promo campaign in several European cities — including Berlin, London, Paris, and Helsinki — featuring photos of Ukrainian civilian casualties and war victims.

The backlash came fast — Meduza plastered Europe with the images of Ukrainians killed by Russia to advertise their own struggles as exiled journalists. Critics called it exploitative, and the campaign was later terminated.

“When 70+ percent of society supports the killing of civilians and a war of aggression, they are not victims, they are potential killers,” Rudenko believes. “In 30 years, Russian society has not created values to fill this void, and so it is filled by Solovyev and Simonyan [top propagandists].”

The vicious cycle behind the West’s obsession with “good Russians”

A panel discussion titled “Exiled but Accountable: The Ukrainian Answer to the ‘Non-Putin Russians’ Dilemma” revealed how Ukrainian analysts understand Western confusion through a simple psychological framework that governs human relationships.

When you watch Western media coverage of the war, you might notice something puzzling: stories about Ukrainian suffering often appear alongside sympathetic portraits of Russian opposition figures. Both groups compete for your attention as victims of Putin’s regime. This isn’t accidental — it follows a predictable psychological pattern.

The triangle that traps Western thinking

Executive Director of the Institute of Post-Information Society and Ukraine’s former Deputy Minister of Information Policy Dmytro Zolotukhin explains this through the Karpman Drama Triangle — a psychological model that reveals how dysfunctional relationships actually work.

The Karpman Drama Triangle, developed by psychiatrist Stephen B. Karpman in 1968, maps three shifting roles that people unconsciously adopt: victim, abuser, and savior.

In this dynamic, Ukrainians consistently appeal to Western audiences from the victim position, sending the message that “we are victims who need saving.”

Western governments and institutions respond by adopting the savior role, expressing belief in Ukrainian victimhood and promising to help mediate between Ukrainians and their Russian “abusers.”

However, the triangle becomes complicated when Russian opposition figures enter the equation. These individuals compete with Ukrainians for victim status, claiming they too suffer under Putin’s regime. This competition splits Western attention and resources between two competing victim narratives.

“They compete with Ukrainians for the attention of Western saviors and for resources like the National Endowment for Democracy budget, which has significant funding for Russian democracy activities,” Zolotukhin said.

Breaking free from the victim trap

Zolotukhin’s solution involves Ukrainian withdrawal from the victim position entirely, emphasizing that Ukrainians have already demonstrated remarkable resilience and democratic functionality even while under military attack.

“We’ve shown how to stop being victims several times in our history,” he argued.

The numbers support his point. Since Russia’s invasion of Crimea in 2014, Ukraine has conducted multiple free and fair elections under wartime conditions — something few democracies have managed historically. This track record positions Ukraine not as a victim seeking rescue, but as a democracy offering lessons in resilience.

Why “good Russians” is the wrong question entirely

Another expert at the discussion panel, Valerii Pekar — who heads an NGO focused on Russia’s decolonization — challenged the way the West often frames conversations about Russians in moral terms, such as “good” or “bad.” Instead, he proposed a strategic lens better suited to Ukraine’s wartime reality.

“We don’t primarily want Russian responsibility — we want sustainable peace,” Pekar stated.

He argued that instead of judging Russians based on their personal ethics or opinions, Ukraine should assess them based on whether their actions are helpful or unhelpful to Ukraine’s goals — specifically, achieving a sustainable peace and eventual victory over Russian aggression.

“The key issue isn’t responsibility — it’s whether Russians are imperialist or not,” he said. “From this perspective, asking who possesses Crimea isn’t enough; I also ask who possesses Kazan and Baikal [colonized territories within present-day Russia.]”

The centuries-long problem Putin didn’t create

This reframes the entire conflict. Western policymakers often frame the war as Putin’s personal project, suggesting that regime change could resolve the underlying issues. Ukrainians, in turn, increasingly view it as the latest manifestation of centuries-old Russian imperialism that will persist regardless of who leads Russia.

This historical perspective suggests that Russian imperial structures are inherently unstable and that Ukrainian strategy should focus on facilitating controlled dissolution rather than attempting to reform the system.

“What we need is not a chaotic collapse, it’s a managed collapse,” Pekar explained. “And those who help us to do this manageable, those are “good” Russians — or not Russians.”

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Ukraine’s new playbook: Presence without confrontation

Pekar’s analysis leads to specific tactical recommendations that flip conventional wisdom about Ukrainian international engagement.

First, Ukrainians must maintain presence at any platform where Russians engage with Western, Eastern, or Southern audiences. However, the purpose should not be argumentation but strategic positioning.

“We must be present at any platform where Russians are, whether good Russians or bad Russians,” he stated.

The second principle is to avoid direct confrontation:

“Don’t argue with them. We are there not to argue with them. We are there to promote our vision and to tell our narrative not from the victim position, not from the abuser position, but from the strategic position.”

Speaking Trump’s language: security over sympathy

This tactical shift becomes especially crucial with the new US administration. Trump’s “America First” approach values tangible benefits to US security, economy, or geopolitical influence over abstract moral arguments.

Pekar suggests framing discussions around concrete national security interests — defense capabilities, regional stability, strategic advantages — rather than appeals to democracy, human rights, or moral righteousness.

The logic is simple: when your audience prioritizes practical outcomes over moral positions, your messaging must adapt accordingly. Ukrainian survival depends on speaking the language your allies actually understand.

When individual courage meets imperial reality

While the problem with “good” Russians exists within a broader context of centuries-old Russian imperialism, some experts emphasize individual responsibility regardless of nationality.

Oleksandra Romantsova, CEO of the Center for Civil Liberties and 2022 Nobel Peace Prize laureate, knows this tension firsthand. She received the Nobel Prize alongside Russian activists for documenting war crimes and human rights violations throughout the invasion.

Romantsova works with thousands of human rights defenders who have Russian citizenship or connections.

“Some still hold Russian citizenship; others were forced to leave the country or change their citizenship,” she said. “These 2,000 people have been helping Ukrainians throughout all eleven years of this war.”

The 2,000 who chose differently

She acknowledged that these human rights defenders with Russian connections have helped document war crimes and assist Ukrainians since 2014, often at personal risk.

This collaboration has continued despite increasing repression within Russia, with some participants facing imprisonment for their activities.

“Some have gone to jail because they feel it’s the only way to express their political position,” she observed.

However, these 2,000 individuals represent a statistical anomaly within Russia’s 144 million citizens — people who chose to document their own government’s crimes rather than remain silent. Their work provides crucial evidence for international courts, yet their extreme rarity underscores how deeply imperial thinking has penetrated Russian society.

The accountability exam most Russians fail

Romantsova emphasized that this doesn’t translate into blanket forgiveness. When encountering Russians, Romantsova applies a systematic four-point assessment that moves beyond symbolic opposition to examine concrete actions and future commitments:

1. War Opposition and Victory Support: “Are they against the war? What’s their position on Ukrainian victory?”

2. Concrete Action Beyond Symbolism: “Are they taking real action beyond posting black squares on Instagram? Are they participating in grassroots initiatives?”

3. Post-War Financial Responsibility: “Are they prepared to be citizens who will pay taxes for reconstruction and compensation mechanisms for Ukraine?”

4. Recognition and Action on Partial Responsibility: “Do they recognize their partial responsibility and act on it?”

This framework allows Romantsova to distinguish between individuals acting autonomously and those functioning as components of the Russian state system. Her analysis helps determine whether specific Russians offer genuine alternatives to imperial policies or merely represent different tactics for achieving similar ends.

The distinction matters because many Russians who publicly oppose the war still fail her test — unwilling to support Ukrainian victory, pay for reconstruction, or acknowledge their role in enabling the system that made the war possible. They want credit for opposition without accepting responsibility for solutions.

What Ukraine’s verdict means for the Western strategy

The debate over “good Russians” reveals a fundamental split about what the war is really about and how it should end.

Western institutions keep looking for “reasonable” Russians to work with after the war. Ukrainians increasingly believe the problem goes deeper than Putin — that Russian imperial thinking will outlast any regime change.

Global press freedom is at its lowest since 2002, says Reporters Without Borders. Independent media face pressure worldwide—from authoritarian regimes, economic collapse, and disinformation networks, including Russia’s unchecked propaganda.

At the 2025 Lviv Media Forum, held from 15 to 17 May, Pulitzer-winning journalist Anne Applebaum and disinformation researcher Dorka Takácsy warned that democracy is breaking down not just from censorship, but from the erosion of truth itself. Applebaum described how Trump’s second presidency has filled government with figures hostile to US institutions. Takácsy pointed to Hungary, where Viktor Orbán has silenced independent media through loyalist networks, political purges, and narratives amplified by the Kremlin.

Moderating the panel, Ukrainian media strategist Yevhen Hlibovytskyi added a wartime perspective: Can a country like Ukraine uphold media freedom when public trust falters and international support fades?

Yet a deeper issue cuts across all borders: traditional media is losing the public. While outlets like CNN bleed viewers, independent podcasters and investigators are gaining ground among audiences who see them as more authentic and less compromised. The problem isn’t just propaganda—it’s that people no longer believe the press.

What you’ll learn from this panel:

• How Trump and Orbán are reshaping democracy through revenge, control of institutions, and propaganda
• Why traditional media is losing trust — and what journalists must do to rebuild it
• How rational debate is collapsing under spiritual populism and anti-science politics
• What lessons Ukraine and the EU can draw from Hungary’s media downfall.

Hungary’s media crackdown: How Orbán dismantled independent journalism

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: When there is an enemy narrative that the government projects onto someone and creates a scapegoat—which, for instance, is currently Ukraine—propaganda messages spread very easily because there is the enormous empire that operates through coordinated messaging.

Dorka Takácsy: We are incredibly impactful. Of course, there are also independent outlets that are doing really great work. They are heroic, under-financed, and struggling, as has happened in other places as well. But obviously, they cannot serve as a counterweight to a large propaganda empire that works with coordinated messages.

Once the foundation of the discourse is established, the public broadcasters will also fall in line. Just imagine if the BBC’s leaders were, one way or another, simply dismissed, and if they happened to be replaced and restructured by the government—it would be quite a scandal, right?

At the moment, if you are a public broadcaster and you go down almost to the regional level, people were replaced. People were dismissed. And it was all very calculated to meet the needs and desires of the government. So there is this entire network of 480 outlets: public broadcasters, radio stations, and all of this. Also, the loyalist media. So altogether, the whole media environment has changed drastically.

Trump’s second term: A government driven by revenge

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: We’re talking about revenge. The Orbán (Hungarian Prime Minister) who returned was not the same Orbán as before. I think one of the themes of the US elections was that we had Trump as the 45th president of the United States, and it was not that damaging. But now, the Trump administration, as the 47th president, is actually quite different in how it approaches policy and in what it does.

Is revenge something that we should be looking at? Is this an indicator that we should all pay attention to from the perspective of the media or think tanks? Is this a factor?

Anne Applebaum: Leaders who lose power and return often have transformed agendas—look at Orbán, Trump, and Hugo Chávez, who staged a coup, was imprisoned, then came back. Trump’s second presidency was always going to be different after his assault on the Capitol and his election denial, though many Americans underestimated this shift.

Trump’s appeal centers on revenge and resentment—targeting elites, the wealthy, or whoever people blame for their problems. This pattern appears throughout history: 1990s Venezuela, 1930s Germany, the Dreyfus Affair. Politicians who build on anger at chosen elites often succeed.

Inside Trump’s new coalition: Tech elites and Christian nationalists

Anne Applebaum: The key difference is Trump’s coalition. His first term featured relatively mainstream officials from government, military, and business who wanted to improve existing systems. Over four years, he’s attracted fundamentally different people who want to overthrow or radically transform American institutions entirely.

This isn’t traditional conservatism. It includes Silicon Valley tech authoritarians wanting America run like a corporation, Christian nationalists seeking religious rule over secular government, and those wanting to reverse social changes since the 1960s. Trump has elevated long-marginalized figures—vaccine opponents and others outside mainstream professions.

The result is an administration where officials actively dislike the very institutions they now lead—the CIA, healthcare system, and others. You’re witnessing the state being attacked from within. This surprises many, but anyone watching closely over the past four years should have seen it coming.

What journalists must do now: Truth-telling and trust-building

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: As a former newspaper editor, I’m asking myself: what do I need to make visible for my audience? Should I focus more on theories of change? On resentment? On revenge? On what comes next if basic services like water purification fail?

Anne Applebaum: The main difficulty in journalism now—even at prosperous magazines with many journalists—is that we can’t cover everything. We know about stories we don’t have time or capacity for.

The main challenge is knowing what to prioritize. You could write about vaccines and healthcare, kleptocracy and corruption, foreign policy, or civil rights.

The main job of journalists is, first, to investigate and establish what actually happened, as opposed to what propagandists claim. Second, to build trust with readers. You’re obligated to build a community—through social media, reader clubs, or public events—of people who want to understand what you’re saying.

It’s not enough just to write; you need to actively create trust, because we’re in a moment when the President lies daily on TV. He says gas prices went down when they went up. He claims to have achieved peace between India and Pakistan when the Indian government says he had nothing to do with it.

This constant lying means there needs to be a daily attempt to write truthfully and create bonds of trust with people willing to listen. It’s a very difficult job.

Why journalists failed to spot authoritarian shifts

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: What this means is that the job description for editors and journalists has become more sophisticated, because you don’t only have to follow the standards and procedures of journalism, but you also have to have expertise in what you’re writing about. You have to see the underwater currents. Is this what the Hungarian media missed?

Dorka Takácsy: If I think back to all the steps that were taken, obviously there were major milestones—the creation of the Media Council and all these things I mentioned were major milestones on this sad trajectory.

But there were also smaller steps that I think we don’t recognize in time. Probably because, just like we see now on the bigger stage worldwide, too many things happen and there aren’t enough journalists. The sector is already underfunded, everyone is overwhelmed, and you can understand that because we are all human.

For such a sector, it’s very difficult to see all the complexity of certain things. But there are definitely external factors too, because in other cases the problems were already visible—not as bad as now, but present. When the problems were big enough, many were reflected in different EU organs and institutions. And the EU was often simply too slow, and when there was political will from the outside, you could flag whatever you wanted, but certain steps were also missed.

Now looking back, it all comes together. Obviously it’s easier now to see the whole trajectory we underwent. But when it was happening, I think we missed it.

From science to suspicion: The fall of rational thinking

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Does that mean we’re seeing a kind of religious combat where people don’t understand or apply rational thinking, but just apply what they believe in? This isn’t necessarily about God—it’s about vaccines and whatever. So is this a challenge to rationalism as an approach that was predominant in educational systems, governance, and institutions in the developed world over the 20th and 21st centuries?

Anne Applebaum: Yes. What we’re seeing, not just in the US but in many places, is a challenge to Enlightenment thinking—that there’s a difference between things that are true and not true, that there’s a scientific method that can determine truth, that there are trusted institutions like scientific journals, journalism, and government agencies that can be trusted to at least try to find truth in good faith.

Instead, we find people completely rejecting those things under the banner of “do your own research.” I wrote about this regarding the Romanian election and the candidate Călin Georgescu, who won the first round before the election was banned.

Spiritual politics and anti-science: Leaders who reject facts

Anne Applebaum: Georgescu described himself as a spiritual person anointed by God with special powers. He filmed himself swimming in a lake—it was very cold and snowing outside—saying his belief in God kept him from becoming ill. He also rejected vaccines.

His appeal was anti-rational, not just anti-institutional—anti-science. Robert F. Kennedy Jr., who is now Secretary of Health and Human Services overseeing the CDC, has a very similar anti-rational appeal.

Interestingly, both RFK and Georgescu have expressed pro-Russian and pro-Putin feelings. Georgescu has been openly pro-Russian regarding Ukraine and supportive of Putin. We know he was supported illegally by a social media campaign. I won’t make the same claim about RFK, although—who knows.

There’s a clear, concerted attempt to win over people who no longer trust scientific thinking. There’s a link between that and authoritarian thinking. These things are somewhat vague—I don’t want to draw clear lines—but they are connected.

No truth, no democracy: Why shared facts matter

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: If you’re talking about the end of the Enlightenment, if we could say so, that means if you’re talking about the lack of efficiency that such an approach would have, then it’s only natural for autocrats to limit competition and preserve themselves with whatever inefficient policies they’re offering. Because otherwise, they would be swept away at the next elections.

Anne Applebaum: The problem is even deeper than that. Democracy itself, especially American democracy, is a kind of Enlightenment project. The idea of democracy is that we created this system with rules, and the rules allow us to have debates about reality. Through those debates, we decide what government policy should be.

So democracy requires some agreed-upon reality. You can have your right-wing or left-wing opinion, you can believe there should be more highways or fewer highways. But you have to agree on the number of highways. You have to have some way of counting them. Once you don’t agree, once there’s no shared reality, then you can’t really have a democratic debate.

The myth of the strongman: Why authoritarians thrive on emotion

Anne Applebaum: The system doesn’t work, and autocracy appeals instead to this deeply irrational idea: “we need a leader who somehow embodies the will of the people”—not through reasoned debate or voting, but because he has emerged from the people and expresses their will.

Trotsky, Lenin, and Stalin used to talk like this. This idea doesn’t belong to the right—Hitler spoke like this, too. The idea that the autocrat has some magical link and makes good decisions just because he somehow represents us—this is anti-Enlightenment, anti-rational, and anti-democratic.

Democracy needs this basis in the real world, or it doesn’t work. If you want to get to the deepest layer, the deepest problem we have today, I think that’s it.

How EU funds helped Orbán hide Hungary’s democratic collapse

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: My question is about the experience of a country that is in Central Europe, that has been part of the European cultural discourse all along. Was there a lack of sense of urgency?

Dorka Takácsy: Yes.

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: That, you know, “we are a member of the European Union, nothing bad is going to happen to us because we will be protected one way or another through the instruments of the European Union or NATO or whatever.” Was there a lack of understanding that the house may be on fire?

Dorka Takácsy: Despite anti-Western propaganda, polls show most Hungarians still view the EU positively. But their reasons are purely practical—they can work abroad, cross borders easily, and sometimes receive EU funds. It’s not about values, freedom, or European identity—just pragmatism.

These positive numbers don’t mean Hungarians maintain a European mentality. It’s simply practical appreciation.

When EU cash stops, propaganda fills the gap

Dorka Takácsy: Hungary clearly shows how autocrats mask bad policies through external support. For years, Hungary prospered largely from EU accession and cohesion funds. Even with poor government policies, results seemed favorable because EU money created an impression of success. People tolerated media manipulation and propaganda because they felt economically secure.

That magic is now broken. The EU has frozen most funds for two years, exposing the true quality of Hungarian policies. Economic and social policies were always poor, but their impact wasn’t felt while EU money flowed. Now the impact is obvious.

When budgets are healthy, autocrats can buy votes with direct payments. That’s no longer viable. So the propaganda machine intensifies—amplifying narratives and pouring extra resources into messaging. When you can’t pay for votes, you must amplify the propaganda. That’s exactly what we’re seeing now.

Why US opposition to Trump remains muffled

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: What I can’t understand from the outside is this disconnect: I read excellent articles in The Atlantic and New York Times opinion pages, but I don’t see real urgency in the opposition. There’s no visible concern even within the Republican Party itself. It’s just “Okay, this is happening, we don’t like it”—but no sense of emergency.

Is this hidden from view due to media optics, or does the American system simply work differently than we expect?

Anne Applebaum: There are two key points. First, this isn’t a parliamentary system—there’s no single leader of the opposition and won’t be. Asking “who’s the leader?” reflects an authoritarian mindset. There will eventually be another presidential candidate, but until then, no single leader. That’s not how our system works.

Fear and intimidation: Why GOP critics backed down

Many people are involved—Congress members, senators, local officials, media figures, podcasters. Alarming content exists constantly. If you’re on the right Instagram algorithm, you’ll see it; if not, you might miss it. There’s significant activity happening. You’d need to follow specific people to see more. Nationwide protests have occurred, with groups planning regular ones.

Second, people are angry at Democrats for not stopping Trump, but they lack the tools. Without control of Congress, there’s no way to prevent executive actions. They can’t physically stop what’s happening.

Much of what Trump has done is illegal. Cases are moving through courts now, and I expect courts will begin blocking actions. Then we’ll see an interesting moment—will the Trump administration try to overrun the courts? We’ll find out.

Within the Republican Party, there’s a strange dynamic. Some opposition exists, with many uncomfortable Republicans. But something not understood from outside—many Republican politicians are physically scared. They worry that voting against the president means facing physical attacks at home or their children being harassed at school. This is new in American politics over the last four years.

With widespread firearms, people are genuinely frightened. Many Republicans left Congress for this reason. Most who voted for Trump’s impeachment are gone—either forced out like Liz Cheney or they quietly departed.

How polarized media killed neutral journalism

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Is CNN being the preferred Democratic voice and Fox News being the preferred Republican voice? Is this the end of independence? Are we going into pluralism as an alternative, or is editorial independence still a value that is still being pursued or should be pursued?

Anne Applebaum: First, CNN isn’t the voice of the Democratic Party at all. CNN has tried to do something different, which isn’t quite working. But CNN, Fox, and MSNBC—ten years ago, all these networks had more editorial independence than now.

They used more neutral tones and presented discussions more neutrally, but that was also because we lived in a less polarized moment when people were less angry.

The business of bias: Why neutral news can’t survive

Anne Applebaum: The business model now for much of media is appealing to your base. You make money by building a base and appealing to one partisan segment of the population. The neutrality business model, designed to appeal broadly, has mostly failed.

When I started in journalism, The Washington Post was essentially the only newspaper in Washington. The Post had an interest in appealing to a wide readership—it wanted Republicans and Democrats to read it, and local businesses to advertise. It was like a monopoly—someone described it to me as a public utility, like the gas company.

That’s not true anymore. There’s no business model where you win over a broad swath of people with neutral commentary. You’ve had this siloing of newspapers and TV. No, it’s not good. Some things were gained—the neutrality sometimes concealed laziness or refusal to be clear. There were things lost in that earlier period we don’t miss.

But the partisan role has been dictated by the business environment.

Can public broadcasting save democracy?

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: One unconventional thing we have in Ukraine is a strong public broadcaster (Suspilne). Is a public broadcaster a potential source of stabilization for the entire media market? Is it important to have an independent public broadcaster for private media to thrive and be less dependent on niche, ideological platforms?

Anne Applebaum: If you can have it—and as Hungary proves, it’s very easy to undermine an independent public broadcaster if you don’t have good laws—but if you can have it and it’s able to build wide trust, something like the BBC (though even the BBC has lost trust in recent years), then it is one of the things that can keep politics centered.

Even the fact that the BBC—it’s a little bit fake, but during election campaigns they insist every political program has a member of each party on a panel—is really useful. You don’t have that on Fox News. Having somebody legally obliged to at least try to be neutral can be extremely important.

Of course, we don’t have this in the United States at all. We have a sort of public broadcaster, but it’s very niche and not even fully government funded.

Dorka Takácsy: Yes, it’s absolutely vital, because otherwise look at what happens if you don’t have a real public broadcaster. It’s not the only source of problems in Hungary, but it’s clearly an indicator that something is wrong.

Unfortunately, we live in an era where polarization is extremely important. This creates a vicious circle because media outlets need to survive, and it’s easier to appeal to emotions. The center is slowly becoming more radical on both sides, and this kind of news further increases polarization.

If you can have a public broadcaster that can afford not to go for emotions—to be dry and professional, though probably less interesting than outlets that live purely from the market—then you have to preserve it, because there’s chaos all around.

Ukraine’s future: Build democracy for yourself, not the EU

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: We’ve been discovering how bad the situation is in our neighboring areas, and there might or might not be a light at the end of the tunnel. But considering that Ukraine is still trying to Euro-integrate, and seeing the dissolution of institutions in the US and many European countries… Are we screwed?

Anne Applebaum: No, no. I think the answer is that you should democratize Ukraine and build institutions there not to get into the EU or to someday be accepted into NATO. You should do it because it’s good for Ukraine.

Following the lead of other countries or seeking to appeal to them—you’re not going to appeal to them. That’s a fool’s game. There’s no point to it.

Will Europe stand by Ukraine? Why support still matters

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Without an international network of support—considering that we are at war, the challenges we have, the pain inside Ukrainian society—we’re actually at risk of not having sustainable democracy. Not because we cannot sustain it as a society, but because we cannot sustain it as a society in these circumstances. How reliably should we expect external support for the cause of democracy and freedom in Ukraine?

Anne Applebaum: I can’t tell you what will happen in the distant future. Current European leaders strongly support Ukraine. There’s a fantastic photograph of your president, President Macron, the German chancellor, and the Polish prime minister all standing in a row, talking and looking happy and friendly. I think that was real.

Among that group, there’s a commitment to Ukraine—to Ukraine’s sovereignty and democracy. Germany has exceeded spending limits to buy weapons—unprecedented for them. You have genuine friends in Europe, plus supporters in the US Congress, public, and business community. Don’t count the US out yet.

Dorka Takácsy: I’m not pessimistic. Ukraine has shown tremendous strength, and we can see clear examples of what to avoid. The support is there, especially with current EU leadership.

They see the bad examples too. Take Hungary—I can say with confidence that the EU is slowly but surely finding its way. Yes, many problems should have been solved earlier, and they don’t always see future consequences in time. But now we clearly see that at many levels, the EU has started recognizing the problems and is growing stronger.

This is encouraging for Ukraine. We can really benefit from this strengthening.

Yevhen Hlibovytskyi: Well, part of adult life is knowing that not all questions will be answered.