© REUTERS/ Piroschka Van de Wouw

Let’s start in Prague. Even for the scandal-tainted Czech prime minister, the billionaire-turned-politician Andrej Babiš, it was a bizarre turn of events. In mid-November, local media broadcast the shocking testimony of his 35-year old son, who claimed that last year, associates of his father had forced him to go on an “extended holiday” to Crimea. The purpose was to prevent him from testifying in a criminal investigation into charges that his father had committed an EU subsidy fraud. The fraud charges are part of a notorious case involving a conference center near Prague formally owned by Babiš’ children, who are now also implicated. The police want to close the investigation by the end of the year. Prime Minister Babiš has repeatedly denied any wrongdoing and argues that the accusations are part of an orchestrated political smear campaign.

Amid the scandal, the opposition parties forced a no confidence vote. The social democrats, a junior partner in Babiš’ minority coalition government, decided to leave the chamber during the vote: they did not have confidence in the prime minister, but they also did not wish to vote against their own government. Their proposal to follow “the Slovak model”—in neighboring Slovakia, the discredited Prime Minister Robert Fico was replaced by his deputy Peter Pellegrini in March 2018—was vehemently rejected by Babiš. “I will never resign. Never! You should all remember,” Babiš declared in the parliament. As the Czech ruling party ANO is closely controlled by its founder and chairman Babiš, replacing him as prime minister against his will simply would not work.

Babiš had reason to be defiant. Because of the parliamentary mathematics in the 200-seat Chamber of Deputies, the two extremist parties, the communists and the anti-migration party of Tomio Okamura, were always going to determine the balance of power. Babiš rode out the crisis by showing the social democrats that Okamura’s party is ready to replace them in government and that the communists will continue to support him regardless of the investigation. He was also helped by Czech President Miloš Zeman, who publicly declared that, even if Babiš were to lose the vote of confidence, he would ask him to stay on as prime minister and form another cabinet.

What Price Power?

Babiš paid for the support of both the extremist parties and pro-Russian President Zeman by granting, for instance, some minor budget handouts to organisations that are politically close to them. But what will be much more important in the medium term is the political boost they have gained from the deal: like the president, both extremist parties are pro-Russian as well as anti-EU and anti-NATO. In fact, they are proposing limits to Czech contributions to NATO missions, and insist on a tough, uncompromising migration policy.

The alleged conflicts of interest around Babiš and his business empire have become so toxic that they have not only paralyzed Czech domestic politics but also damaged the country’s position within the EU. On December 13, the European Parliament adopted a resolution expressing concern about the Prime Minister’s conflict of interest and the use of EU funds in the Czech Republic. Most allegations focus on Agrofert, Babiš’ large business conglomerate, which is now formally owned by two trust funds and continues to be a major recipient of EU agricultural subsidies in the country. These new developments are likely to push the Czech government into a corner in the ongoing negotiations about the new EU budget. Under pressure from Brussels, Babiš will now find it more difficult to pull off the balancing act by which he cultivates ties with western EU leaders while also embracing Hungary’s populist leader Viktor Orbán.

Meanwhile, neighboring Slovakia was shaken by a different kind of political crisis. As in Belgium, the ruling coalition in Bratislava was deeply split on the Global Migration Pact. After 18 months of negotiations, the legally non-binding document on the treatment of migrants was agreed at the UN in July by all member states except the United States. At that time, Slovakia’s Foreign Minister Miroslav Lajčák was president of the UN General Assembly. The pact was formally endorsed at the UN intergovernmental conference in Marrakesh on December 10-11, but not before several countries had publicly withdrawn their support, including EU members Austria, Italy, Hungary, Poland, Latvia, and the Czech Republic.

“Populist Race to the Bottom”

The dispute within the three-party coalition government in Bratislava burst into the open after a junior partner, the pro-Russian populist Slovak National Party (SNS), demanded that Slovakia reject the migration pact, too. Foreign Minister Lajčák defended the document, criticizing its opponents for making false statements and leading a “populist race to the bottom.” He also threatened to resign if his opponents prevented Slovakia from taking part in the UN conference in Marrakesh. This was about the country’s credibility in Europe and its approach to multilateralism, he argued. If politicians have objections to the UN migration pact, they should allow diplomats to take them to Marrakesh.

Lajčák was hoping for political support from his own party, Smer-Social Democracy (SD), but he miscalculated. Weakened by recent country-wide protests against corruption, Smer-SD was careful not be outflanked on migration by the SNS. Prime Minister Peter Pellegrini said Slovakia would “never” accept a pact that described migration as a generally positive phenomenon, a position that contradicts Slovakia’s will to distinguish between economic migrants and refugees. So the tide turned against Lajčák. After a strongly worded parliamentary resolution opposing the pact was passed—supported by Smer, SNS, and the neo-fascist Kotleba party—the foreign minister tendered his resignation on November 29.

Lajčák’s U-Turn

But it took him only one week to rescind it. He said he had received guarantees from both Prime Minister Pellegrini and Robert Fico, now the chairman of the Smer party, that Slovakia’s foreign policy will not change. The real reason for his change of heart could be something different—Bratislava is full of speculation. If Lajčák left the cabinet, Robert Fico would try to return to the government, thus threatening both the fragile balance of power and the position of Prime Minister Pellegrini. Or perhaps Lajčák is simply waiting in his post until there is a new top international job available for him—distancing himself from Slovakia’s position on the migration pact might improve his chances.

In any case, despite guarantees of foreign policy continuity, the SNS feels emboldened to pursue its agenda. Its new target is the country’s new security strategy. Having been approved by the government, it was supposed to be debated in the parliament. However, the SNS asked to change its wording by further watering down references to Russia as a threat. Pellegrini offered a procedural way out, emphasizing that, as the government has already approved the security strategy, it is bound by it even without the parliament’s confirmation.

What Europe Should Do

So, what do these recent Czech and Slovak political crises have in common?

Both show that as political elites tainted by corruption cling to power, they increasingly have to turn to the pro-Russian extremists for tactical support. This shift also has foreign policy implications. First, as the main ruling parties decline, fringe parties are going to grab more seats in the European parliament elections. Second, this weakens the more pro-European governments within the Visegrád group, which also includes Poland and Hungary. This means that Hungary’s leader Viktor Orbán will gain more space within the group to expand his populist, anti-Brussels rhetoric (though he himself has come under pressure by wide-spread civic protest at home). Third, the Czech Republic in particular risks to undermine its relatively strong negotiating positions in the debate on the new EU budget and the future of cohesion policy. Fourth, if the conflict between Russia and Ukraine escalates, Prague and Bratislava will become even more vulnerable to Russian disinformation.

Overall, the outlook for 2019 is more instability, as domestic politics continue to drift into turmoil. What does this mean for their partners in Europe, first of all for Germany, both countries’ most important interlocutor? As the antagonism between the EU’s East and West continues to grow, Berlin cannot take for granted that Prague and Bratislava will continue their pragmatic approach to important EU issues. While insisting that both countries address issues of corruption and conflict of interest, Germany should also enlist France’s support to anchor their governments in the pro-European camp. At this point in time, both the Czech Republic and Slovakia need help to consolidate their strategic consensus and resist both internal and external pressures for further radicalization.

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© Inquam Photos/Octav Ganea via REUTERS

The Visegrád Group has been a topic of discussion in Romania on only two occasions. The first was after it was created, on 15 February 1991. At the time, analysts in Bucharest believed that, because it was not invited to join the group, Romania would end up as a grey area, a buffer between the West and the Soviet Union. It is no wonder that then-President Ion Iliescu used this as leverage to sign a Treaty of Friendship with the USSR, which took place in Moscow on April 4, 1991; no one at the time could imagine that Romania could stand shoulder to shoulder with the V4 states, which had initiated reforms as early as the 1980s.

The second time the topic of the V4 came up was when President Klaus Iohannis rejected the idea of Romania moving closer to the Visegrád Group this year. In a statement issued on October 12, the president said: “In the last year, the Visegrád Group has certain opinions that are very different from our own, and at this time, in my opinion, a rapprochement between Romania and the Visegrád Group is not realistic.” Iohannis made this statement after a visit to the Ford factory in Craiova.

This came after an interview with Hungarian Prime Minister Viktor Orban featured in Romania’s Hungarian language press, in which Orban extended an invitation for cooperation with the V4, but not an offer to join: “The question is what the Romanians want. This is something for them to decide. By launching joint economic projects and setting joint goals in cooperation with the Hungarians, they could also be part of a great Central European success story. The bulk of the entire European Union’s economic growth comes from the Visegrád Four. In a ‘V4 + Romania’ formation, we could find a form of cooperation which would eventually lead to improved living standards, greater security, and better prospects for Romanians in Romania as well. We’re keeping this door open.”

What this illustrates is that, in talking about the future of Romanian relations with the V4, we are dealing with a misunderstanding: Romania does not want to join the V4, and the V4 never invited it to do so. So what is behind the furious debate surrounding this issue over the last few weeks?

The Visegrád Group, or a Orban Viktor Fan Club?

First of all, it should be stressed that the debate today in Romania is not so much about the V4, but more about Orban’s Hungary and its illiberal, euroskeptic model, which is controversial in Romania for several reasons.

For one, there are politicians in Romania who would eagerly emulate Orban’s control over his country’s judiciary. Senate Speaker Călin Popescu-Tăriceanu and the Speaker of the Chamber of Deputies, Liviu Dragnea, are open fans of Orban, but for very personal reasons. Both are under judicial investigation, and both may receive court sentences. It is essential for them to gain control of the justice system and alter legislation to save themselves and their close associates from lengthy prison sentences. The greater part of the magistrate corps in Romania, most of the country’s civil society, a small part of the press (the part not controlled by owners who themselves are in legal trouble), and the European Commission have all opposed any such changes to legislation, and supported the independence of the country’s judicial system. A coalition of this size is hard to defeat, but not impossible, as Orban proved.

In fact, for Romanian politicians who feel stifled by Brussels, Orban is a legend, an outlaw who fights against European bureaucracy. This bureaucracy has disciplined the political class in Bucharest through the Cooperation and Verification Mechanism, meaning that Orban, Dragnea, and Popescu-Tăriceanu have a common enemy – Brussels – but for different reasons.

Romania and the V4 Model

The second problem is what the V4 states have in common. They have an anti-immigration attitude, they accuse the EU of double standards in terms of food safety, they criticize the core states of the EU, and they believe they are persecuted and omitted from the decision-making process in Brussels.

Even if economic nationalism, populism, anti-Soros rhetoric, and anti-Western rhetoric have gained ground over the last year, the Orban model does not hold much appeal in Romania, no matter how much it is promoted by certain politicians. Both Orban and Jaroslaw Kaczynski are expressions of confidence in national authorities over international authorities. For Romanians, it is the other way around: Romanians value Brussels and Washington, and look down on the national political elite. This is a common mindset in Bucharest, where people believe that NATO and EU integration was achieved in spite of the establishment, not thanks to it. The most obvious expression of this lack of confidence in the future of the country is the fact that every year a large number of Romanian citizens continue to emigrate: around 4 million out of 22 million citizens have left Romania in the last quarter century.

The V4 model also has an important ideological component that Romanians reject. In his messages to Romania, Orban has emphasized the threat posed by migrants, the need to defend the eastern frontier, and Romania’s Christian future, expressing the hope that he would be able to collaborate with Bucharest on this basis. Simply reading these messages proves both the inadequacy of Orban’s approach and his lack of knowledge of the country to which they are addressed, a country that is not receptive to such ideological messages.

Romania has never had a close relationship with its neighbors, and has a tense history with some of them, Hungary first and foremost. Traditionally, it has relied on its Western allies, chiefly France and the UK. The institutions instrumental in its foreign and security policy are all Western-oriented – the foreign ministry, the defense ministry, and the intelligence services. In their view, the Russian threat is the greatest danger for Romania. Orban is seen by these power structures as a sort of lieutenant for Putin, with Romania apparently caught in a Russian-Hungarian vice. The influence of these institutions should not be underestimated, especially after the annexation of Crimea, as they have taken decisive control of Romania regional and security policy.

Bucharest has no plan for Romania to join the Visegrád Group; the conditions have not been met for such a plan to make sense. In Romanian public opinion, Hungary is Russia’s Trojan horse in NATO and the EU, and Romanians would have great reservations regarding any attempt to bring Bucharest and Budapest closer together.

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© REUTERS/Heinz-Peter Bader

In late August, French President Emmanuel Macron embarked on a diplomatic tour through Central and Eastern Europe. The timing of the trip was curious, taking place a week before he was to unveil proposals to transform France’s rigid labor market – seen as the first big test of his presidency – and amidst a rapid decline in popularity; only months after his landslide presidential victory, one poll has shown Macron’s approval ratings as low as 36 percent, and several reports have confirmed that the president’s team has been busy figuring out how to correct course.

Macron’s destinations, however, were by no means random. He included Austria, Romania, and Bulgaria in his itinerary, three countries that will hold rotating six-month EU presidencies in 2018 and 2019, which will be crucial for Macron’s ambitious EU reform plans. As part of his well-choreographed program, the French president also met leaders of the Czech Republic and Slovakia, which are now constructive members of the so-called Visegrad Group (or V4). The other half of this grouping is the illiberal pair of Poland and Hungary, which Macron criticizes for being at odds with the EU’s democratic values and treating the Union like a “supermarket”.

What made Macron head east at such a sensitive moment? And what have we learned about President Macron’s approach to Central and Eastern Europe?

Improving Access

According to the Agence France-Presse, the whole tour was meant to improve French access to the East. Minister of European Affairs Nathalie Loiseau acknowledged that Paris has ignored Eastern Europe in the past, and cast President Macron’s tour as a signal that this is going to change. “Every European state has its place and its importance in the ongoing discussion on European reform,” she told Euractiv. Indeed, if we recall Macron’s recent meeting with the V4 prime ministers on the margins of his first European Council in June 2017, Macron began his term with two meetings with Central and Eastern European leaders. In an August 26 editorial, the Financial Times pointed out that the two major objectives of Macron’s presidency, the re-invigoration of France’s economy and the relaunching of the EU, are intertwined. In order to secure German support for closer EU integration, Macron must deliver domestic economic reform and win the French people’s support for unpopular changes. He must demonstrate that he is changing the way the EU works. And the market-oriented newest EU member states with low wages and open economies are set to oppose Macron’s initiative to make EU labor rules more restrictive because it would go against the interests of their citizens.

Thus the main short-term goal of his diplomatic tour was preparing the ground for changes in the EU directive on “posted workers.” Macron pledged to protect French laborers against “social dumping” from poorer EU member states in his election campaign, and now needs successful resolution of this issue at the EU October summit.

Playing On Regional Differences

At the beginning of his tour, Macron met with Austrian Primer Minister Kern, an ally on the revision of the EU’s “posted workers” directive. They were subsequently joined by Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico and Czech Prime Minister Bohuslav Sobotka, social democrats like Kern, and together revived a new regional format called the Slavkov Three.

The new French president was playing on emerging regional differences in Central Europe. By co-opting the more pragmatic half of the Visegrad group, which has quite effectively opposed Western European countries in some EU initiatives, especially migration, Macron was also shunning the other, more hardline Visegrad countries – Poland and Hungary – which are less inclined to compromise on the directive, not least because the Polish in particular are much more affected than the Czechs and Slovaks. There were 450,000 Polish “posted worker” in 2015, almost a quarter of EU total.

A “posted worker” is an employee sent by their employer to provide a service in another EU member state on a temporary basis. It allows a service provider to win a contract in another country and send its employees there to carry out the contract, while continuing to pay their benefits and taxes in their own country for a period of up to two years. Approved in 1996, this measure has only recently become divisive among EU member states. Overall, posted workers represent less than 1 percent of the total EU workforce; but since the Brexit referendum, in which intra-EU migration became an explosive issue, politicians in countries like France and Austria have been giving it more attention.

The EU Commission has tried to stay ahead of the game as well, and in March 2017 presented proposals under which “posted workers” would be subject to pay and working conditions equal to those of local workers. Macron declared himself not satisfied with these new proposals, however; he wanted to make them even more restrictive and protectionist. In any case, he needed to pick a political fight at the EU level to sell it at home. A final decision should be formally made at the meeting of EU’s labor ministers in October, which then needs approval by the European Council and the European Parliament. “We are very close to an agreement. We see October 2017 as a realistic date,” Slovak Prime Minister Robert Fico told a joint news conference after the meeting. Romanian and Bulgarian leaders late added approving noises.

As Natalie Nougayrede, a former editor-in-chief of Le Monde, pointed out in The Guardian, Macron took to battling with Eastern Europe to show he is on the side of French workers, not EU technocrats. But the degree of manipulation wasn’t hard to detect: in a candid moment at a press conference in Salzburg, he almost admitted as much, saying, “France’s problems have nothing to do with posted workers.”

The Sirens of Populism

Essentially, President Macron is being tempted by the very sirens of populism against which he so admirably mobilized large segments of French society in the recent election. He seems to be using this region as a backdrop for his domestic agenda, and to rekindle the “Polish plumber” bogeyman – however, the same trope played a part in French voters’ rejection of an EU constitution project in 2005, and it could now backfire as the EU moves toward deeper cooperation.

Among the Visegrad countries, eurozone member Slovakia is the most willing to move along. Primer Minister Robert Fico has already signaled his support for German-French initiatives beefing up Europe’s common currency.  In contrast, the Czechs, who are not in the euro, will have parliamentary elections in less than two months, which could result in a euroskeptic government in Prague. Before meeting Macron, Czech Prime Minister Sobotka said that he would push the French president to ask French investors to raise the salaries they offered in the Czech Republic to avoid profiting from another kind of “social dumping.” The issue of “posted workers” is thus two-sided, and shows how painfully and slowly the process of convergence between the EU’s East and West has been moving. As Martin Ehl, one of the leading Czech commentators on European issues, has pointed out, pushing too hard to change the “posted workers” directive might help populists and nationalists in Central Europe, and increase the popularity of euroskeptics.

This was illustrated by a bitter exchange of with Poland. Reacting to Warsaw’s refusal to consider the compromises discussed in Salzburg, Macron quipped that that Poland was isolating itself within the EU, and that Polish citizens “deserve better” than a government at odds with the bloc’s democratic values and his plans for EU reform. “In no way will the decision by a country that has decided to isolate itself in the workings of Europe jeopardize the finding of an ambitious compromise [on ‘posted workers’],” he said, adding that Poland was moving in the opposite direction from Europe on numerous issues.

The government in Warsaw rejected the accusations, saying Macron was inexperienced and arrogant. The fight fit Macron’s strategy, casting the Poles as the main opponent of French proposals. This seemed deliberate: attacking Warsaw nowadays costs Macron nothing, as the ultra-conservative PiS government has few friends on the EU level. On the other hand, it illustrates Macron’s short-term approach to his EU partners. In the fall, the French president was supposed to organize a high-level meeting with Germany and Poland in a revived Weimar Triangle format. These plans are now most likely buried, as Macron’s attacks resonated strongly in Poland and will not be easily forgotten.

In fact, Macron’s spat with Poland could end up causing problems for France’s most important European relationship. Any conflict within the EU – even one meant to serve domestic political goals, like Macron’s fight over “posted workers” – means more problems and more work for Germany, which is pursuing a careful balancing act among various positions and groupings within the EU. At the same time, Macron was conspicuously quiet about Viktor Orban’s Hungary. This could be a sign that Budapest is either open to more talks on labor issues or has some other good news for Macron in stall – like a big contract for French military helicopters.

To a certain extent, Macron has fallen back to traditional French behavior in the EU: the European dimension is useful to him if it allows France to align its partners’ positions with its own. However, Macron will need to adopt a more genuine European spirit toward the EU’s Eastern members if he wants to deliver a relaunched EU, one that serves these countries’ long-term interests and does not increase support for nationalist and populists leaders across the region similar to those already in power in Poland and Hungary.

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© REUTERS/Laszlo Balogh

Viktor Orbán has been in preaching mode recently. Hungary’s prime minister no longer complains about Germany’s “moral imperialism,” as he did at the peak of Europe’s refugee crisis in 2015. He now enthusiastically frames 2017 as “a year of revolt” within the EU: He sees the upcoming series of crucial elections in Western European countries as a great opportunity to get rid of their old political elites, hoping for an end to the liberal order in Europe – and for a greater role for a new elite, one in tune with his ideas. This new elite, based on the Visegrád group comprising Hungary, Poland, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia, would theoretically be closer to the voters’ needs, moods, and concerns.

Now, neither a win for far-right Front National leader Marine Le Pen in France in May nor the toppling of German Chancellor Angela Merkel next fall is impossible. And even the mostly moderate Czech Republic, which will go to the polls at roughly the same time as Germany in mid-October, might get its own Silvio Berlusconi figure if Finance Minister Andrej Babiš, who also happens to be the country’s top media and business magnate, is elected prime minister.

But take a closer look and the holes in Orbán’s vision become quite apparent. From a distance, all four Visegrád governments can be seen as euroskeptic proponents of an EU with weak institutions and strong member states. In fact, this reading of the situation papers over cracks that have been widening of late.

The coalition governments in Prague and Bratislava, led by Social Democratic parties – at least in name, as far as Robert Fico’s Smer-SD party in Slovakia is concerned – are not interested in the kind of “conservative counterrevolution” promoted by the ruling parties in Budapest and Warsaw. Indeed, Slovakia just completed a surprisingly smooth six-month EU presidency, pursuing pragmatic lines in very difficult times. At the October 2016 GLOBSEC Tatra Summit Forum, one of the main official events of the Slovak presidency, participants discussed how Europe’s open societies can challenge far-right and populist parties. As a eurozone member, Slovakia is also more deeply integrated fiscally and economically with the EU’s core.

Meanwhile, Czech Foreign Minister Lubomír Zaorálek opened the Czech-Austrian Dialogue Forum in November 2016 with a call to protect the tolerant soul of Central Europe. Going further still, Petr Kratochvíl, director of the Foreign Ministry’s Institute of International Relations, recently argued that in the case of a Le Pen win in the French presidential elections, it would be in Prague’s vital interest to keep its close links with Germany rather than side with its partners in the Visegrád group.

This is part of a broader trend: Czech and Slovak diplomats have been quietly distancing their countries from the “illiberal Budapest-Warsaw axis” and Orbán’s hijacking of the Visegrád discourse. Now similar voices are being heard in foreign policy debates in Warsaw. In a recent analysis of Hungary’s ambition to become a regional leader, the Polish Institute of International Affairs called for restoring greater symmetry in Warsaw’s relations with Budapest.

Behind Closed Doors

So far, these growing tensions have been handled behind closed doors. To avoid conflicts spilling into the public domain, the four countries have stuck to a diplomatic formula of coordinating on the EU level and reinforcing regional positions only when they can agree – on issues like the single market, freedom of movement, and a general position vis-à-vis London ahead of the Brexit negotiations. The Visegrád prime ministers and other high-ranking government officials continue to meet regularly and coordinate in Brussels ahead of every EU summit and relevant EU Council meeting. There is a shared concern that open divisions would be exploited by Germany and others to weaken this regional group even further.

But the question has started to dawn on the Visegrád members: What if electoral upheaval in 2017 really leads to an EU that is more variable and looser? In the absence of a common vision and shared understanding of the region’s interests, the result would be a more divergent and fragmented Central Europe.

In fact, what might look like a big opportunity for Hungary is perceived in Poland, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia as a big threat. These three countries have been among the main beneficiaries of Europe’s post-1989 liberal order, which is now under pressure from various directions. A potential deal between future US President Donald Trump and Russia’s Vladimir Putin at the expense of Ukraine would be seen as a humiliating “new Yalta” by most Poles, regardless of political ideology. In contrast, Orbán would welcome it – and likely try to win concessions for ethnic Hungarian minorities as part of the whole package. Czech and Slovak leaders, for their part, will ultimately realize that the populist concept of “a Europe of nations” runs against the vital interest of small states at the EU’s eastern periphery. The prospect of being left on their own in the geopolitical turmoil building up in Central and Eastern Europe pushes them to work with Germany in keeping Europe’s liberal order in place.

Thus, key government figures in Prague and Bratislava are keeping their fingers crossed for Merkel to keep her job in the fall, regardless of how much they hate her stand in the refugee and migration crisis. And unlike governments in Warsaw and Budapest, they do not want to participate in a reconstruction of the region as a counterweight to German dominance within the EU.

In 2017, we will likely see more differentiation in the national trajectories of the Visegrád group over Europe’s future order. One consequence could be the rise of bilateralism in relations with Germany, other EU partners, Putin, and Trump. National narratives, domestic considerations – even Hungary is heading for elections in 2018 – and the personalities of the leaders involved will all shape the agenda of the gang of four. But one thing is clear: Orbán will play a smaller role than he likes to think.

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