The far right party Jobbik plays a significant role in Hungary’s political system. It now has its sights on the 2018 parliamentary elections and has indicated its plans to be a serious challenger to Viktor Orbán. Whether it is really able to move to the centre and appeal to a broader set of voters remains an open question.

Hungary’s Jobbik, a radical right-wing political party, was established in 2003. Its creation was a response to the discontent noted among young voters who felt disappointed with the political situation and was largely related to the right wing’s loss in the parliamentary elections in 2002 when a liberal-left coalition, composed of the Hungarian Socialist Party (Magyar Szocialista Párt, MSZP) and the Alliance for Free Democrats (Szabad Demokraták Szövetsége, SzDSz), came to power.

Jobbik, in fact, emerged from a transformation of a group called the Community of Right-Wing Youth (Jobboldali Ifjúsági Közösség, or JIK for short), that was set up in 1999, after the victory of the Fidesz-Hungarian Democratic Forum (MDF) coalition. JIK was to become a platform for exchanging ideas and working towards consolidating groups with similar right wing and nationalistic views. The group was set up by around 50 people, including Dávid Kovács and Gábor Vona.

There is no clear post-conflict strategy for Donbas. This is to a significant extent caused by the hybridness of the conflict which effectively prevents the fundamental goal of peace. If peace were to be achieved, however, experience from the field of transitional justice could point to some ways post-conflict justice might progress in Ukraine.

Much has been written about the Donbas conflict since it evolved into a full-fledged war in the summer of 2014. One aspect of the conflict which has been given almost no attention, despite its obvious importance for Ukraine’s long-term development, are reflections on its aftermath. The debate in the West has predominantly focused on highly pragmatic and technical questions like how to stop the violence and move the conflict into the political realm. Ukrainians, on the other hand, are stuck in a black-and-white characterisation of “treason vs victory” in terms of virtually all aspects of the conflict. In the background of both approaches, there seems to be an assumption that the conflict can be resolved rather easily and the situation will return to what existed prior.

This assumption is misguided. Any stable and long-lasting resolution of the conflict should be accepted by all interested parties as just. This implies that such a resolution is yet to be found.

It has been over six months since the European Union lifted visa requirements for Georgian citizens travelling to the EU. In recent years, this issue was the main engine of EU-Georgia co-operation and was hailed as a success of Georgia’s pro-European policies. The euphoria felt among Georgians after achieving visa-free travel, however, may fade over time. Therefore, it is necessary that the EU presents Georgia with concrete goals towards continuous participation in the Eastern Partnership.

Since the 2003 Rose Revolution Georgia has been treated as a model student, first in the European Neighbourhood Policy and then the Eastern Partnership. The United National Movement led by Mikheil Saakashvili unequivocally expressed the intention to integrate with Euro-Atlantic structures and despite the authoritarian tendencies of its leader, the party managed to implement an ambitious internal reform plan.

The pro-western trajectory of the country was not shaken by the five day war in August 2008 or the rise to power of Saakashvili’s opposition, the Georgian Dream. Many observers worried that the party, controlled by the oligarch Bidzina Ivanishvili, would take a more pro-Russian course in its foreign policy instead of deepening its co-operation with the West. Despite a slight relaxation of relations between Tbilisi and Moscow after 2013, the activities aimed at Georgia's integration with the EU have continued.

Lithuania has the highest suicide rate in all of Europe. The country underwent a difficult transition after the fall of the Soviet Union and still struggles with problems from the past. However, things are changing and an unlikely group from a small town is now leading the charge.

It is a three hour bus ride from the nation’s capital, Vilnius, to the north-eastern part of Lithuania. The trip through the country is picturesque. In an old bus on a bumpy road, we pass by idyllic woods and shining lakes. When we arrive to our destination, a 1.5 metre tall sign greets us –“Welcome to Kupiškis.”

At first glance, Kupiškis looks like any other city in a rural area. The bus station is old and grey and is the only connection to the rest of the country. A large church and its two tall towers can be seen from most of the city. The main street takes you through the city to the municipal building, a cultural centre, a tourist information point and a few local shops.

An interview with Bobo Lo, expert on Russia and China and author of the books Russia and the New World Disorder and A Wary Embrace: What the China-Russia relationship means for the world. Interviewer: Adam Reichardt

ADAM REICHARDT: It has been two years since you published Russia and the New World Disorder in which you concluded that Russian foreign policy is not well suited for the current geopolitical context. Yet, if we look at Russia since 2015, it has projected itself as a strong country, one that can defend against sanctions, intervene in Syria, advance its interests in its near abroad and project an image of itself as a real global player. Would you still argue that same thesis today?

BOBO LO: This is a question I often get asked. I stand by my original thesis. True, Russia is not going to become a minor power straight away, the regime will not collapse anytime soon, and Russia will not buckle under western pressure and be forced into concessions. However, we need to look at Russia and the world in the longer term. What will happen over the next decade, two decades, three decades and beyond? Can Russia adapt to a world that is changing in all sorts of uncontrollable and unpredictable ways? This is about much more than just Russia’s interaction with the United States, the United Kingdom, France or Germany. It is about whether it can operate effectively in a more complex, disaggregated and disorderly international environment crowded with competitors – not just the West and China, but many others as well.

The question of revolution, particularly the "colour revolutions", is something that fills the Kremlin with fear and paranoia. This is how attitudes towards 1917 are now being shaped. I would not be surprised if we hear one narrative on 1917 which labels it a “coloured revolution" – carried out with foreign aid, to destroy the wonderful country of Russia.

In Russia, there is no definite and clear position on 1917. The new democratic Russia, which emerged in 1991, had undergone a notable transformation since then and therefore we cannot speak today of those ideological postulates that were used to assess the 1917 revolution during the 1990s. At that time, historiography in Russia freely developed and evaluated the event as one that started the construction of the totalitarian system and repressive state. After all, the ideas that underpinned 1917, in many ways, were both totalitarian and repressive in nature. In order to understand this, it is sufficient to read the documents that form the Marxist-Leninist doctrine. And it is enough to read the communist party manifesto in order to see what a world built in accordance with this recipe would look like.

Today, we see a completely different picture. It is not complete nonsense, because there are certain signals. For Russian historians today, 1917, along with many other issues, constitute what is called “difficult issues in history”. An attempt to create a single, unified textbook in Russia also runs into problems.

The Russian region of Kuzbass is one that is entirely dependent on the extraction and export of coal. Despite some resistance by local communities and indigenous peoples, there appears to be no will among authorities to slow the spread of coal extraction, which has already devastated several towns and villages in the region.

As we travel around the surroundings of Novokuznetsk, in the heat of the Siberian summer, we come across endless green fields patched with boreal forests and small wooden villages. On the roads we witness huge dump trucks loaded with coal leaving behind dusty trails as they pass by. Far away on the horizon, the cloudless sky is concealed by a layer of brown smog. “People here are used to breathing all the elements of the periodic table”, our taxi driver complains.

Located in the Siberian region of Kemerovo, Kuzbass (shortened form for Kuznetsk basin) is home to 40 per cent of Russia’s coal production. Here, open-pit coal mines sprout up like mushrooms, resulting in a devastating impact on the environment and the livelihood of nearby residents. Toxic coal dust contaminates the air and soil which, according to the Russian state monitor Rosprirodnadzor, has a pollution rate that is twice the national average. As the mines expand, forests die, fertile soil turns barren and the land slowly transforms into a lunar landscape.

Rimavská Sobota is a small town in the south of Slovakia, not far from the Hungarian border. Despite its size, it has seen a lot of changes and tragedies throughout the last 100 years. The story Ján Ľupták and his family woes may be one of the best illustrations of this town’s fate.

It all began with a duck. “Not quite,” Michal corrects me. “Negative emotions were mounting in the family for a while. The woebegone duck was like a snowball. It triggered an avalanche, which has been falling ever since”.

It certainly began in Rimavská Sobota, a small town in the south of Slovakia. In the Ľupták family everything begins in Rimavská. And usually ends there: births, funerals, and weddings, school, work and friends. Few are capable of leaving this place and never coming back. One teacher managed to leave. She ran a theatre group. When she fell into debt, she decided to pretend to be mentally ill in order to avoid repayment. She ran around the square in her pyjamas, singing out load and jumped up on monuments. The court sent her to a psychiatric ward for observation (yes, indeed, Rimavská has a psychiatric ward), but the doctors claimed she was faking it. She ran away to Prague and today she works in a shop and does not want to hear about Rimavská. But such stories are rare.

A review of After Europe. By: Ivan Krastev. Publisher: University of Pennsylvania, Philadelphia, 2017.

Let me start this review with a disclaimer: the positive assessment of Ivan Krastev’s recent book is in no way related to the fact that the author is also a member of New Eastern Europe’s editorial board. It solely reflects the value of the publication and its relevance as it has been interpreted by the undersigned reviewer. That said, readers who are familiar with Krastev’s writings will not be surprised that his recent book, tellingly titled After Europe, focuses on disintegration rather than integration. They may even remember that on the pages of this magazine Krastev had written: “I know how things collapse; this is what I have been studying all my life. I was working on the Balkans and I know how they collapsed, and before that I studied how the Soviet Union had collapsed”.

A review of Putin's War against Ukraine: Revolution, nationalism and crime. By: Taras Kuzio. Publisher: CreateSpace Independent, in association with the Chair of Ukrainian Studies, University of Toronto, 2017.

When I first met Taras Kuzio during the Three Revolutions Symposium at the College of Europe’s Natolin Campus in Warsaw, I was impressed by his academic engagement. It was clear that he had given much thought to issues about Ukraine over the last 25 years, and while listening to the other speakers during the symposium, Kuzio illustrated his ability to assess key messages and I observed how he caught the most important arguments. His most recent book, Putin's War against Ukraine: Revolution, nationalism and crime, reflects Kuzio’s approach to research. It is suggestive of a mosaic of condensed facts, arguments and judgments – each of which contributes to a multi-dimensional picture.

A review of Ежи Гедройц: К Польше своей мечты (Jerzy Giedroyc. To a Poland of dreams). By: Magdalena Grochowska. Publisher: Ivan Limbach Publishing House, St Petersburg, 2017.

June 1st 2017 marked the 70th anniversary since the first issue of Kultura – a Polish-émigré magazine – was published by Instytut Literacki (the Literary Institute) in Paris. Without a doubt, Kultura was one of the most important Polish magazines of the post-war period. Focusing on politics, it deeply analysed the situation in Eastern Europe, paying great attention to literature and the role it played in the formation of citizenry. The first issue of the magazine was actually published in Rome. However in 1948 the editorial team relocated to Pairs where it stayed until Jerzy Giedroyc’s death in 2000. That date is tantamount to the closing down of Kultura as it was declared by Giedroyc in his will.

“Talking about Russia from a theatre stage in Legnica has much more meaning than in any other place in Poland,” says Jacek Głomb, who has been the director of the Modjeska Theatre in Legnica for the past 23 years. Legnica is a small town, located in Lower Silesia in western Poland with a population of about 100,000. It is no accident that for the 40th anniversary of the Polish theatrical stage in Legnica and the commemoration of the 175 years of the building’s existence, which will be celebrated this year, the theatre is preparing an adaptation of Fyodor Dostoyevsky’s Demons.