We Are Not on an Island
This winter, nature has healed so much that the easiest way to describe grand geopolitics now is to provide the example of a frostbitten apartment in a high-rise building in Kyiv.
The enemy (cold) attacks from outside, resources are limited―there is no electricity or heating, and the water in the pipes may freeze by morning. This ordeal, which hundreds of thousands of residents of Kyiv, Dnipro, Kryvyi Rih and other cities had to endure last winter, very clearly highlighted the need and efficiency of cooperation and mutual support.
As practice showed, problems were solved more quickly in those buildings where housing cooperatives worked, where good and trusting relations prevailed between neighbors, where a problem was solved jointly rather than individually.
Together the neighbors raised money and bought a generator to start the elevator and to restore power to basic electrical equipment, used their horizontal links to find repairmen and to order their services more quickly. Due to their shared goodwill, they were able to take care of those in the building who needed it most (for example, the elderly), and even to overcome the consequences of the sabotage on the part of certain neighbors who refused to participate in solving problems or fundraising.
The best situation was in those buildings where the household had been run jointly even before the war―the neighbors had jointly invested in energy efficiency and thermal insulation, taken care of the condition of municipal utilities and kept up with preventative maintenance.
Now let’s imagine for a moment that our Central Europe is a similar high-rise building with very different neighbors living on each floor. In the building, centrifugal tendencies prevail, because everyone strives to turn their own apartment into a fortress and to interact with their neighbors as little as possible, limiting themselves to greetings on the stairs or in the parking lot. At the same time, however, there is a need to run the household jointly, to clean the staircases and flower beds, to repair the sliding gate operator and to pay the concierge’s salary.
The same applies to Ukraine―we are not on an island, no matter how much we might dream of that in moments of despair. We are surrounded by neighbors whom we may or may not like, but they are with us forever. The history of Ukraine eloquently shows that our country suffered defeat when it waged war on several fronts at once. Hence the conclusion: in our region, survival requires not only fighting well but also building alliances well.
Thus, with the existential enemy in the east, we must actively and selflessly build a belt of good neighborliness in the west. It is prestigious and beneficial to be friends with Germany or France, but without the support of Poland, Slovakia, Hungary and Romania, we will not be able to survive. Because we are not on an island.
I know how difficult it is to think about this, experiencing daily political attacks from Budapest, witnessing sabotage from Bratislava, getting tired of historical claims from Warsaw or hearing with indignant surprise the territorial claims from the right-wing radicals of Romania.
But all this is about temporary political moods. Not long ago, the Slovak government was among the leaders in supporting Ukraine and was one of the first to give us fighter jets. It is quite possible that already this spring the new government of Hungary will finally remove the barrier to European integration for us. The Romanians lent a helping hand when it was necessary to unblock our grain exports. Both key Polish political parties―the ruling and the opposition ones―systematically support Ukraine, despite contradictions between them.
Politics is fast-changing, but we must live on the assumption that Ukraine is eternal, and make our predictions and design our strategies for the future accordingly, build not only walls but also bridges.
At present, the main obstacle to establishing good relations with our western neighbors lies not so much in political reluctance as in banal mutual unfamiliarity. We know Poland quite well, but our knowledge of Romania (and Moldova), Hungary and Slovakia is scant, Wikipedia-like. We live close to each other, but we know not much more about the Slovaks than the Irish do. We share a longer common border with Romania than with Poland, but many Ukrainians visited this country for the first time only after the invasion.
Even Ukrainian writers will hardly name 5 contemporary Hungarian writers. Finding a translator for a literary translation from Romanian is practically impossible. The Slovak language is as close to Ukrainian as Polish, but over the years of independence we have managed to translate and bring to the general book market only a few Slovak authors. We are familiar with Polish literature because the Poles themselves have been efficiently promoting it and supporting translations for years.
It is not surprising that the neighboring countries know just as little about Ukraine. And when knowledge is scarce, it is easier to fill this void with fakes, stereotypes and hostility. Let’s put two and two together: if we want to build a stable and reliable belt of good neighborliness in the west as the basis for a sustainable future and European integration, we must do our homework. Not only must we explain ourselves to our neighbors but also learn more about these neighbors ourselves.
There will be no quick results or wow effect here, this is the work for decades and generations. But it is worth starting today so that, at the very least, the situation does not get worse tomorrow.
That is why, as part of Book Arsenal-2026, I would like to invite you to a series of meetings with neighbors and about neighbors. Yes, this will not be an epoch making or fundamental event that will change everything and at once. But for a start, the format of a Tinder-style superficial acquaintance will also be useful―perhaps in the future this will lead not only to casual contacts but also to (international) relations☺
The full-scale war has taught us to calibrate the circles of relatives, friends and acquaintances whom we are ready to help at a moment’s notice and who, if necessary, will come to our aid.
This applies to our neighbors as well.