Broken Solidarity: How the War in Ukraine Split the European Left

The war in Ukraine has torn apart old alliances on the left as never before. For decades, Eastern European leftists have lived under the shadow of Soviet occupation, a reality almost invisible to many on the Western left. After February 2022, this gulf burst into the open. In the words of one Ukrainian commentator, many on the Western left have been “both loud and wrong about the invasion” while ignoring the perspectives of those “living under Putin’s sphere of influence.” Eastern European socialists and left-wing parties, steeped in the memory of Soviet tyranny, found it grotesque that some Western progressives treated Russia’s invasion through a purely anti-NATO prism.

This ideological rift has its roots in deep history. During the Cold War, the USSR ruled Poland, Hungary, the Czech lands, Romania, Ukraine, and the Baltic states, often with brutal force. For millions of Eastern Europeans, Soviet rule was as much colonialism as Hitler’s occupation. Western communist and socialist movements, on the other hand, often romanticized the USSR as “socialism,” remaining silent about its Gulags and invasions. As one analyst notes, Western academia, and by extension much of the Western left, spent generations in a kind of “enchanted dream” about Russia, only “awakening” when Putin’s tanks rolled into Ukraine. Anti-colonial frameworks popular on the Western left have primarily focused on Western empires, remaining “blind” to other forms of domination. In practice this meant many Western leftists equated U.S./NATO actions, such as military interventions or geopolitical strategies, with Russia’s aggression or focused solely on NATO expansion, giving short shrift to Russian imperialism in Ukraine or Eastern Europe.

By contrast, Eastern leftists, even those hostile to today’s NATO, remember Soviet imperialism clearly. In Warsaw, Anna Maria Żukowska of Poland’s left-wing Lewica coalition declared after a national security meeting that it was “our raison d’état that Ukraine emerges victorious from this war.” This blunt language reflects a consensus in Poland’s mainstream left (and center) that Ukraine’s defense is in Poland’s security interests. Similarly, Social Democrats from across Central and Eastern Europe met in March 2024 and “declared unwavering support” for Ukraine’s defense against Russia. In Kyiv itself, socialist and labor activists quickly joined relief and resistance efforts, denouncing the Kremlin’s assault as imperialist aggression. All this stands in stark contrast to some Western anti-war leftists who, especially early on, refused to condemn Russia unequivocally. A prominent British example is former Labour leader Jeremy Corbyn: even as he acknowledged Russia’s wrongdoing, calling the war “disgraceful” and the “Russian invasion… wrong at every level,” he urged ceasefire negotiations. He warned that more arms would “only prolong the war.” Corbyn’s stance, though critical of Putin, nonetheless echoed a cautious pacifism that many Eastern Europeans found inadequate.

The split is also evident in party politics. In Poland, Lewica has backed strong aid to Kyiv. Activists like Żukowska noted that for Ukraine “three years of war… [it] is shedding its blood also for Poland and Europe", underscoring solidarity. By contrast, an extreme-left current (the small Marxist association SMP) reacted to the war by blaming Western “imperialist” policy, echoing Russian talking points, and angrily warning against supporting Ukraine at all. The Communist Party of the Czech Republic provides another example: its MEP Kateřina Konečná told voters that “Russia is not dangerous” and urged trust in Putin’s peace intentions. In televised appearances, she framed the invasion as the fault of the West: “The cause of that war was the expansion of NATO,” she said. Czech Communist leaders even called for the Czech Republic to leave NATO, aligning themselves with Putin’s Eurasian agenda. In short, some far-left groups in Eastern Europe have echoed pro-Russian tropes, but these are in the minority in the East’s post-communist mainstream. The broader Eastern left (for example, Poland’s mainstream left or Slovakia’s social democrats) has overwhelmingly sided with Ukraine.

The Socialistická Moravská Platforma (SMP) and the Communist Party of Bohemia and Moravia (KSČM) exemplify enduring pro-Russian sentiments among certain far-left factions in Eastern Europe. Both parties, rooted in the legacy of the Soviet-era communist bloc, have maintained ideological ties to Moscow, often framing contemporary geopolitical events through a lens sympathetic to Russian narratives. Frequently, these parties will continue to push propaganda that aligns with Kremlin talking points, just as their predecessors did during Soviet times.

These positions, while marginal within their own countries, have found resonance among segments of the Western European left. Some Western leftists, particularly those with anti-NATO or anti-Western imperialist perspectives, have aligned with these Eastern European fringe parties to support narratives that shift blame for the Ukraine invasion away from Russia. Many will point to these token Eastern European leftist to justify their stance on Russia's Invasion of Ukraine. This alignment often involves emphasizing NATO's role in escalating tensions and portraying Russia's actions as defensive or reactive. However, such stances contrast sharply with the predominant view among Eastern Europe's mainstream left, which primarily supports Ukraine's sovereignty and condemns Russian aggression. The divergence highlights a broader ideological split within the international left, where historical affiliations and geopolitical analyses influence differing interpretations of the conflict.

Across the rest of Eastern Europe, the scene is similar. In Hungary, opposition socialists and liberals, from the Socialist Party (MSZP) to the Democratic Coalition (DK), have openly criticized Viktor Orbán’s Russia-friendly policies and called for a clear commitment to Euro-Atlantic alliances. Romania’s major parties (from the center-left PSD to the reformist USR) have endorsed sanctions and aid for Kyiv; only a tiny far-right fringe, a term used to describe a small, extreme political group with radical views (e.g., George Simion’s AUR) sympathized with Moscow. In every country, the experience of Soviet rule shapes this: Poles and Romanians remember Soviet troops on their streets; Czechs and Hungarians remember 1968 and 1956. As one recent analysis put it, Eastern parties are “operating… pressured by Western imperialism on the one hand and harassed by neighboring Russian imperialism on the other.” This geopolitical squeeze has pushed Eastern leftists to reject narratives that downplay Russian aggression.

Meanwhile, in Western Europe, the left’s response has often been more conflicted. The mainstream social-democratic parties (e.g., Germany’s SPD, the UK’s Labour under Prominent figures, France's PS, and similar) moved quickly to support Ukraine. Social Democrat leaders convened in Warsaw and voiced strong support. For example, SPD co-chair Lars Klingbeil said that “Ukrainians were fighting for European values as well as their country and should receive all available support.” However, on the farther-left fringe of Western Europe, the picture is messier. Germany’s Die Linke has been split: its new co-chair Janine Wissler bluntly declared that the invasion is “a war of aggression [by Russia]… which cannot be justified by anything” and insisted “Russian troops have no business in Ukraine.” Yet the former left-wing icon Sahra Wagenknecht, now leading her own Alliance Sahra Wagenknecht party, has become infamous for a more equivocal stance. Wagenknecht does say she “condemns this war” and even calls Putin a “criminal.” Still, she simultaneously argues for an immediate ceasefire. She has proposed that the West halt arms shipments to Ukraine in exchange for Russian concessions. In Britain, the Green Party and some Labour activists have similarly opposed further armaments and urged negotiations (although this stance has little electoral impact).

In France, the cleavage played out differently. Left figures like Jean-Luc Mélenchon (La France Insoumise) initially hesitated but ultimately blamed Russia. Mélenchon’s statement famously declared that “Russia bears all responsibility” for the war. But he also couched the conflict in anti-bloc terms and criticized French policy, leaving some Eastern observers unsure of his true sympathies. The French Communist Party under Fabien Roussel has unequivocally denounced Putin’s “criminal war,” yet even it warns against being drawn into a broader war. Roussel calls for an “independent, constructive” peace diplomacy and rejects those who would drag France into “a war against Russia” that could “plunge Europe into the chaos of a world war.” Thus, even Western-left parties that condemn Russia often couple that with anti-war or neutralist rhetoric, a balancing act that confounds many in the East.

Crucially, this Western hesitancy is seen by Eastern voices as a failure of solidarity. Many Eastern leftists point out that Western progressives rarely sought out their Eastern counterparts’ views. As sociologist Oksana Dutchak (co-editor of a Ukrainian socialist journal) complained, Western activists often “used dogmatic slogans instead of analysis” and failed even to include Ukrainians in their forums on the war. She insists the “world has changed” and that leftists must adjust their framework rather than recycle Cold War-era clichés. Similarly, Lithuanian activist Severija Bielskytė notes a “tendency to navel-gaze” in the British left, which “doesn’t understand the perspectives” of Eastern Europeans. She adds bitterly that some Western leftists even “romanticise the Soviet Union” and were reluctant to confront Russian aggression before 2022. In other words, Eastern socialists feel ignored or misunderstood by Western comrades. They urge Western progressives to amplify Ukrainian demands; for example, Ukrainian antiwar leftists have called for debt relief and economic support for rebuilding, issues the Western left is equipped to discuss but has largely overlooked.

The failure to acknowledge Soviet and Russian colonialism has real consequences. Many Western progressives, focusing on their anti-imperialist narrative, have been slow to recognize how Russia’s war is precisely the empire-building and ethnonationalist aggression they condemn elsewhere. As one commentator observes, academic and political discourse in the West spent years treating “Great Russian culture” as separate from Russian imperial policy, a luxury seldom afforded other powers. Because Western decolonial thought is steeped in Atlantic history, it often misses that post-Soviet people were colonized by Moscow rather than forging their nations. This blindspot has left Western socialists unprepared to challenge Kremlin narratives. For instance, when Eastern leftists describe Russia’s actions in Ukraine as colonial aggression, many Western counterparts either dodge the term or reflexively respond by pointing to U.S. arms sales or EU interests.

Such differences have produced tangible rifts. At international left forums and conferences, Eastern and Western delegates frequently clash. Eastern parties, such as Poland’s Razem or the Czech ČSSD, emphasize Ukraine’s sovereignty above all. Western delegations have sometimes insisted on only partial measures or equal scrutiny of all great powers. In 2023, for example, a high-level meeting of the Party of European Socialists in Warsaw saw unanimity among East-Central European parties on accelerating arms deliveries to Kyiv, while some Western SPD and Labour figures discussed ceasefires or negotiations. (Notably, Western social-democratic leaders like Sweden’s Stefan Löfven also called for victory on Ukraine’s terms, aligning with their Eastern colleagues).

Outside the halls, pro-Ukraine demonstrations are common in Warsaw and Prague, with participation from left-wing trade unionists and socialists. In contrast, some Western cities have seen anti-war rallies organized by left groups criticized for providing a platform for Russian propaganda. In sum, the once-solid ground of international left solidarity has crumbled under the weight of history and geopolitics. Eastern European leftists essentially stand united against Putin’s empire, framing the Ukrainian struggle as one of anti-colonial resistance. Many Western leftists, whether out of anti-war principles, distrust of NATO, or lingering Orientalist attitudes, have not fully absorbed that framing. The result is an uneasy schism. As one Eastern observer put it, a truly effective left response would require shedding the old “unipolar framework” and listening to those who bore the brunt of Soviet rule. Until that happens, the split will persist: Western socialists struggling to reconcile anti-imperialist ideals with a war in which Russia is the clear aggressor, and Eastern socialists insisting that any consistent left must oppose both American hegemony and Russian neo-imperialism.