The growing alignment between Moscow and Tehran represents an extraordinary development in the history of their relations, which for centuries have been characterized by intense conflicts and profound rivalry. While it is reasonable to assume that Russia and Iran may grow even closer in the short term, the uncertain nature of their relationship means that their ties could still follow unexpected or unpredictable trajectories.

In recent years, relations between the Russian Federation and the Islamic Republic of Iran have deepened significantly, indicating an apparent shift from mere tactical alignment to a broader strategic convergence. Specifically, since the late 2010s, the two countries strengthened their economic and political ties, transforming mutual diplomatic support from sporadic to systematic. In this respect, the Russian invasion of Ukraine in February 2022 marked a significant qualitative leap in bilateral relations.

As Ukraine continues its resistance against Russian aggression, discussions about the potential end of the war have sparked numerous debates throughout the international community. While many are eager for a swift resolution to the conflict, Ukraine has every right to be concerned about how the war will end.

The dialogue between Ukraine and some western partners was complicated in the early stages of the full-scale war. As President Volodymyr Zelenskyy repeatedly emphasized, Ukraine is unwilling to give up any of its territories to achieve peace. He often referred to the moral aspect of the issue, even if some believed that it was not realistic. He stressed that Ukrainians living in the occupied territories are suffering under Russian occupation and enduring torture and human rights abuses.

With one million Ukrainians in the military, including hundreds of thousands on the frontlines, nine million displaced and thousands of men who once eagerly enlisted now hiding from military recruiters, the war shrunk and reshaped Ukraine's labour force. Indeed, it is likely to continue transforming society and women’s place in it for decades to come.

After years as a quality control engineer with big supermarkets and housing construction sites, Natalia Myronenko had yearned for change. Passionate about fashion, beauty, makeup and harmony, she saw her maternity leave after the birth of her second child as the perfect time to pivot. But the war intervened, thrusting her into a field she had never imagined entering: humanitarian demining. When she got the job as a quality control manager, she envisioned mostly office supervisory work. “Then I realized that war is my job, and I was shocked,” says the 40-year-old. Like in her old job, she has to check other people’s work. Only now, human lives are on the line. At stake is making the land safe again for farmers and people to live on, to survey each patch of farmland that had witnessed combat, carefully searching for and removing unexploded mines, missiles, artillery shells, bombs and other types of ordnance – all with the utmost caution. “It’s all about safety,” she says.

As NATO member states gathered in Washington for their annual meeting this past July, they also marked 75 years of NATO’s existence. However, there was no real time or desire to celebrate, as the allies are facing an increasingly dangerous security environment and uncertainty in their own domestic political landscapes. The results of the upcoming US presidential election also loom large when it comes to NATO's future.

Russia’s invasion of Ukraine has seen the creation of a number of works detailing everyday trauma. In Kateryna Pylypchuk’s new collection, we can see how such writing can ultimately allow for a strengthening of the spirit in the face of seemingly insurmountable odds.

In all the eight years since 2014, Moscow has spent time challenging the vigilance of its democratic victims. Despite the sanctions, joint strategic projects with Europe still flourished. One of them, Nord Stream 2, speaks volumes today. Everything was done to destroy the western democracies' ability to resist.

Walking along Nowy Świat Street in Warsaw, everything speaks of prosperity and comfort. Couples in love sip coffee in restaurants, radiating happiness. Families with children stroll, enjoying the weekend. Everyone lives their own life – the government, the opposition, farmers and transporters. The war with Russia is not visible in peaceful Europe, although it is already underway. However, the population of Europe and the political elites of the EU try not to notice it. They are not ready for it. An abstract question could therefore be asked regarding this relative calm: "Is Klaipėda worth a war?"

Negotiations concerning Russia’s war in Ukraine have been going on for many years at this point. While there have been almost continuous discussions regarding peace, it has become clear that Moscow does not place any real value in such talks. The war will therefore be decided on the battlefield.

Peace talks between Ukraine and Russia broke down completely on September 30th 2022, when the Ukrainian National Security and Defence Council made a unanimous decision that it was impossible to negotiate with Vladimir Putin and approved Ukraine’s symbolic application for NATO membership. The decision was preceded by seven years of fruitless attempts to settle the conflict between the two countries through diplomatic means, which was followed by the full-scale Russian aggression against Ukraine and several more fruitless negotiation rounds.

The media landscape in Ukraine has been heavily impacted by the ongoing Russian invasion. While the centralization of media to build a common message and fight disinformation made sense at the beginning of the war, critics now argue that the president’s office is abusing its control of the media while discrediting independent journalists.

Over two years into the all-out war with Russia, Ukraine is bound to face further stress tests. Nowhere do these come into view so strikingly as in the Ukrainian media, where the authorities’ desire to maintain control; civil society’s calls for scrutiny; the opposition's political ambitions; and Moscow’s attempts to gain influence all clash.

An interview with Markus Wehner and Reinhard Bingener, authors of The Moscow Connection. The Schröder Network and Germany’s Path to Dependency. Interviewer: Jarosław Kociszewski

JAROSŁAW KOCISZEWSKI: After reading your book The Moscow Connection. The Schröder Network and Germany's Path to Dependency, I had an impression that what you wrote about Russia, and especially about the Kremlin’s connections with German politicians, was very well-known already in Poland, but also in other parts of Central and Eastern Europe. How new was this information for the German audience?

REINHARD BINGENER: I think this information was partly new and partly old. Many of the things that we wrote about in the book were known before the information was public. However, this information was released over time and therefore there was a lack of a broader picture. Our idea was to combine the facts and present this big picture.

An interview with Cyril Hovorun, a professor of philosophy at University College Stockholm. Interviewer: Vazha Tavberidze.

VAZHA TAVBERIDZE: I have read your essay published in 2015, titled “Christian duty in Ukraine”. I wanted to ask, nine years later, what is the duty of a Christian when it comes to Ukraine?

CYRIL HOVORUN: I think that duty stems from the Gospel, from the words of Jesus. Everything that Russia does actually violates all ten commandments, which are basic for all monotheistic religions, but particularly for Christianity.

The story of Andrei Kureichyk is a good reflection of the story of Belarus itself. The playwright turned political activist, who has been in exile since 2020, believes that the idea of an independent and free Belarus cannot be abandoned. His most recent project, Voices of the New Belarus, serve as testimony to this belief.

Once or twice a week, throughout April and May 2023, the Belarusian playwright, filmmaker and political activist Andrei Kureichyk walked down several flights of creaky stairs into the dusty basement of a building in New Haven, Connecticut. The basement, belonging to Yale University’s School of Drama, had been converted a number of years earlier into a recording studio, and Kureichyk was joined by an audio engineer in training as well as a different voice actor each visit. Some were student or professional actors; some were intellectuals or professors. They had been recruited for Kureichyk’s project Voices of the New Belarus, a multimedia adaption of his play of the same title.

Six months after Russia's invasion started, I gave birth to my child and breastfed her for the first time in a bomb shelter, to the sound of sirens. I moved from Ukraine to Poland with my baby and despite the joy of motherhood I had never felt so much loneliness and darkness as I did there, far from home, when my country was fighting the enemy, and I was not. But soon I joined the fight for victory.

It all started for me at night on Cathedral Square in Vilnius. There, there was not a single soul, snow was gently falling from the sky and a flash was shining dimly on the camera of the Lithuanian cameraman who was also my driver and guardian angel. An hour ago, I had flown in from Kyiv. The city was sleeping and the streets were quiet. Yet in a few minutes it would be six o'clock in Kyiv and I had to join the morning news – the first broadcast of the new Ukrainian TV channel Espreso, the launch of which our young team had been preparing all autumn. It was an important day for me, but even more important for Ukraine.