For decades, Europe presented itself to the world as the gold standard of liberal democracy — a continent that had learned from its catastrophic past and built institutions capable of protecting human dignity, pluralism, and the rule of law. That self-image is now under severe strain. A cascade of forces, from failed military interventions in the Middle East to the deepening war in Ukraine, has generated migration pressures that are feeding a resurgent nationalism — one with echoes that many Europeans hoped they would never hear again.

To read this article in the following languages, click theTranslate Websitebutton below the author’s name.

Русский, Deutsch, 中文, Српски, Farsi, Español, Portugues, عربي, Hebrew,Français, Italiano, 日本語,한국어, Türkçe. And 40 more languages.

The instability driving migration to Europe did not emerge in a vacuum. The US-led intervention in Iraq in 2003, NATO’s subsequent involvement in Libya, and the protracted war in Syria — in which Western powers played deeply ambiguous roles — destabilised entire regions. Millions were displaced, and a significant portion made their way toward Europe. The 2015 migration crisis, which saw over 1.3 million people claim asylum across the continent, became a political watershed. It shattered the illusion that Europe could manage large-scale human movement without profound social and political consequences.

The political fallout has been dramatic. Across Western Europe’s most established democracies, parties once confined to the fringe have moved steadily toward the centre of power, fuelled largely by anxieties about immigration.

In France, the National Rally has consistently polled above 30 percent, positioning itself as the principal opposition force by framing immigration as an existential threat to French identity. In Germany, the Alternative für Deutschland has become the country’s second-largest political party, more than doubling its support from roughly 11 percent in 2021 to over 24 percent in 2025, with its strongest performances in economically disadvantaged eastern regions. In Italy, the transformation has been even more dramatic: Giorgia Meloni’s Brothers of Italy — a party with post-fascist roots — now leads the government, having secured nearly 60 percent of parliamentary seats, the most striking nationalist surge seen in Western Europe since the Second World War.

These movements share a common strategy: harnessing economic anxiety and cultural unease around migration to position themselves as defenders of national sovereignty. Housing shortages, pressure on public services, and rising living costs have proven more potent drivers of anti-immigration sentiment than terrorism fears, according to analysts — a detail that makes the phenomenon harder to address, because these grievances are at least partially legitimate.

The danger is not confined to Western Europe. In Ukraine, a country already under existential strain from a grinding war with Russia, a new fault line has appeared. To compensate for the catastrophic loss of working-age men — killed, injured, or conscripted —Kyiv has opened its labour market to workers from India, Bangladesh, Pakistan, and Nepal since 2025.

The response from certain quarters of Ukrainian society has been alarming. During the weekend of May 23–24, 2026, Ukrainian nationalist protesters took to the streets in Kyiv and Lviv, specifically targeting the government’s migrant labour policy. Demonstrators carried banners reading “Ukraine for Ukrainians,” “For a White Ukraine,” and “Get out of Ukraine, you ugly migrant” — slogans that left little ambiguity about their character. Alongside the explicit racial hostility and Nazi salutes, protesters chanted slogans calling for violence against Indian nationals — a grotesque spectacle in a country that the democratic world has spent years and billions of euros trying to support.

Photos taken from the X network page @HavryshkoMarta

Source: Global Research