Clarification comes after PM fuelled speculation about EU-UK relationship in series of interviews at weekend
Downing Street has been forced to clarify Andy Burnham’s stance on whether the UK would return to having freedom of movement with the EU after the prime minister said an “honest discussion” was needed on the issue.
Burnham fuelled speculation about a return to freedom of movement in an interview at the weekend, prompting questions about how close the UK could become to Brussels.
Readers respond to Polly Toynbee’s article on the possibility of rejoining the EU
With all due respect to Polly Toynbee, why do we assume that we would need another referendum to return to Europe (Shall we have another EU referendum? Maybe – but not yet, 19 October)? The last one didn’t work out too well. Asking the electorate to vote a simple yes or no on such a complex and multifaceted deal was never going to be the right approach; nor will it be to go back in.
Call it what you will – Brejoin, Bre-entry, Brehabilitation – it shouldn’t be an all-or-nothing deal. The one thing that Brexit has given us is the opportunity to cherrypick the elements of a relationship that are of mutual benefit to both parties. How about approaching it on a piecemeal basis, processing it through normal parliamentary procedure? No buses required.
Gary Jones Wimbledon, London
Republican Rep. Thomas Massie (Ky.), on Monday indicated he would reintroduce articles of impeachment against Defense Secretary Pete Hegseth should he remain at the Pentagon after Congress returns to Washington, D.C., following the November midterm elections. Massie, who kicked off the impeachment process against Hegseth in September over the war in Iran, wrote on social…
In ventiquattro anni di esperienza nelle relazioni istituzionali, Sara Vinciguerra ha osservato da vicino l’evoluzione del rapporto tra imprese e decisori pubblici. Un percorso che racconta anche la trasformazione del lobbying, sempre meno legato alla sola capacità di costruire relazioni e sempre più orientato a portare competenze, evidenze e proposte nel processo decisionale. Nell’intervista a Healthcare Policy, la head of Italy corporate affairs di Boehringer Ingelheim riflette sul ruolo dell’industria farmaceutica, sulla trasparenza nella rappresentanza degli interessi e sulle condizioni necessarie per costruire un dialogo efficace tra pubblico e privato.
Ventiquattro anni nelle relazioni istituzionali sono un osservatorio privilegiato sui cambiamenti della politica e delle imprese. Se dovesse individuare la trasformazione più significativa del suo mestiere, quale sceglierebbe?
La trasformazione più significativa è il passaggio dall’accesso al contributo. Nel lobbying, la relazione resta fondamentale, ma da sola non basta: il valore del nostro mestiere sta nella capacità di leggere il contesto, portare evidenze e costruire proposte, comprendendo le conseguenze delle decisioni.
La relazione non è il traguardo: serve ad ascoltare, comprendere le priorità delle istituzioni e trovare un terreno comune. E cambia l’orizzonte: non soltanto rappresentare un’esigenza immediata dell’impresa, ma contribuire alle condizioni per ricerca, investimenti e accesso all’innovazione nel tempo. Per me, il salto è questo: non solo far ascoltare un interesse, ma dimostrare quale valore può generare per il Paese e per le persone. In sintesi: conta meno quanto è lunga la rubrica, e molto di più la capacità di costruire un percorso che regga anche quando cambiano gli interlocutori.
Un tempo si parlava soprattutto di lobbying, oggi si preferisce parlare di public affairs, advocacy, relazioni istituzionali. È cambiato soltanto il linguaggio o anche il modo di rappresentare gli interessi delle imprese?
Le parole sono importanti, fotografano in maniera plastica momenti storici, equilibri, status quo e definiscono ambiti e perimetri di quella che potrei definire la licenza di operare. E c’è una ciclicità anche nel loro utilizzo. Quando ho iniziato il mio percorso professionale nelle aziende, il mio job title conteneva “relazioni istituzionali”, la parola lobbying era bandita, mentre advocacy cominciava a far capolino. In un’era del politicamente corretto, che altro non significava che esisteva una figura che aveva delle relazioni, un dialogo con le istituzioni, ma per raggiungere cosa non era ben chiaro. Le stesse aziende non avevano compreso quanto questo ruolo potesse avere conseguenze sul business.
Oggi l’impatto della geopolitica rende evidente il valore di una funzione capace di collegare le scelte dell’impresa al contesto in cui opera. Quindi no, non è cambiato soltanto il linguaggio: è cambiata la consapevolezza di ciò che significa rappresentare un interesse. Per me, lobbying, public affairs e advocacy non sono sinonimi perfetti, né etichette con cui rendere più accettabile lo stesso lavoro: mettono a fuoco dimensioni diverse e complementari, dal confronto sulle decisioni pubbliche alla lettura del contesto, fino alla costruzione di consenso intorno a un obiettivo. Il punto è rendere espliciti l’interesse che si rappresenta, le ragioni che lo sostengono e il contributo che può offrire. Non si tratta di nascondere l’obiettivo dell’impresa, ma di metterlo in dialogo con le priorità pubbliche, riconoscendo anche dove non coincidono. La maturità del nostro ruolo sta proprio qui: non nel trovare una parola più rassicurante, ma nel dare sostanza, trasparenza e responsabilità a ciò che facciamo.
Da molti anni si occupa del settore farmaceutico. Quali erano le priorità dell’industria quando ha iniziato e quali sono oggi?
Si è passati da una logica “prodotto-centrica” ad avere consapevolezza del proprio ruolo nel contesto del Paese in cui si opera, così come a livello globale. Questo comporta un’ambizione, non del tutto ancora soddisfatta, nell’avere la stessa dignità di posizione nella definizione a lungo termine delle strategie di sostenibilità del contesto economico e sociale, non solo sanitario. Un passaggio importante anche e soprattutto in termini culturali, un esempio lampante è l’ambizione di lavorare insieme alle istituzioni ad una life science strategy capace di unire tanti tasselli prima non connessi tra loro. In questi anni, il lavoro associativo di Farmindustria ha contribuito in modo significativo anche a questa evoluzione culturale e per la consapevolezza di cui parlavo.
Nel settore farmaceutico il confronto con le istituzioni riguarda questioni che incidono direttamente sulla salute dei cittadini: accesso alle terapie, ricerca, investimenti, sostenibilità del sistema sanitario. È diventato più semplice o più complicato costruire un dialogo efficace tra pubblico e privato?
Rispetto a 24 anni fa, il dialogo è diventato più uniforme: c’è un maggiore riconoscimento del ruolo dell’industria e del valore che può generare, non soltanto in termini di benefici per la salute, ma anche per la sostenibilità economica e sociale del Paese. È un cambiamento importante, ma questo percorso ha ancora bisogno di essere strutturato, perché il confronto non dipenda soltanto dalla disponibilità dei singoli interlocutori.
Serve anche un passaggio culturale: riconoscere che, se un’azienda porta un’idea positiva e le istituzioni la valutano e la accolgono in un atto legislativo o non legislativo, anche questa è democrazia. La provenienza di una proposta non dovrebbe sostituire la valutazione del suo merito: l’interesse rappresentato deve essere esplicito e la responsabilità della decisione resta alle istituzioni. Ho ancora la sensazione che le proposte per regolamentare il lobbying siano pensate più per controllare il rapporto che per valorizzarne il potenziale di costruzione condivisa, riconoscendo il contributo di chi conosce a fondo un settore.
Il controllo è necessario, ma da solo non basta. E questo riguarda sia le aziende sia le istituzioni: entrambe devono rendere il dialogo aperto, tracciabile e verificabile. Altrimenti il rischio è lasciare nell’opacità proprio quel confronto che dovrebbe svolgersi alla luce del sole. La trasparenza non va soltanto rispettata: va rivendicata come condizione per contribuire, ciascuno nel proprio ruolo, a decisioni migliori.
In Italia il processo decisionale in sanità coinvolge ministeri, Parlamento, Regioni e agenzie regolatorie. Dopo tanti anni di esperienza, quale ritiene sia oggi il principale ostacolo a un’interlocuzione istituzionale capace di produrre risultati concreti?
Prima di tutto, bisogna intendersi su cosa siano i risultati concreti. Non sono soltanto una norma approvata o una richiesta dell’impresa accolta. Sono decisioni che trovino attuazione: un percorso di accesso all’innovazione che funziona, condizioni che rendono possibile un investimento, una priorità condivisa che si traduce in responsabilità e azioni. Il risultato non è aver ottenuto ascolto, ma aver contribuito a un cambiamento utile e verificabile. Il principale ostacolo, a mio avviso, è la difficoltà di costruire questa responsabilità condivisa lungo tutta la filiera decisionale.
Ministeri, Parlamento, Regioni e agenzie hanno ruoli diversi, non serve confonderli, ma collegarli intorno a obiettivi chiari, dando continuità al confronto e all’attuazione. A questo si aggiunge il timore di ripercorrere errori passati, che può frenare il pieno riconoscimento dell’impresa come interlocutore competente e partner del sistema. Essere partner non significa decidere al posto delle istituzioni, né pretendere che gli interessi coincidano: significa contribuire con competenze e proposte, nella trasparenza e nel rispetto dei ruoli. Il salto da fare è passare da un dialogo che raccoglie posizioni a un confronto che costruisce soluzioni e ne verifica gli effetti. Perché una buona proposta non è ancora un risultato: lo diventa quando produce un beneficio concreto per le persone.
La trasparenza è diventata una parola centrale nel dibattito sul lobbying. Secondo lei, in Italia siamo maturati abbastanza da riconoscere la rappresentanza degli interessi come una componente legittima del processo democratico, oppure continua a prevalere una certa diffidenza?
Credo che siamo maturati, ma che continui a esserci una diffidenza selettiva. Come dicevo, riconoscere l’impresa come partner non significa darle il potere di decidere, né presumere che il suo interesse coincida con quello pubblico: significa consentirle di contribuire con competenze e proposte, nella trasparenza e nel rispetto dei ruoli. La rappresentanza degli interessi, del resto, non si esaurisce nelle aziende. La percezione, dal mio punto di vista, varia a seconda del soggetto che rappresenta un interesse. Credo invece che ogni contributo debba essere valutato sulla base del suo merito, delle evidenze e della trasparenza con cui viene rappresentato. Sarebbe più trasparente rendere conoscibile il contributo dei diversi stakeholder al processo decisionale, rendendo tracciabili gli interessi rappresentati e il confronto con le istituzioni.
Nel farmaceutico, una proposta può riguardare competitività, sostenibilità, attrattività degli investimenti e salute dei pazienti: obiettivi che possono generare benefici collettivi, ma che vanno dimostrati, non dati per scontati. La decisione resta alle istituzioni, anche quando gli interessi non coincidono. Per me, la maturità democratica sta proprio qui: non nel presumere che alcuni interessi siano buoni e altri sospetti, ma nel renderli tutti visibili e sottoporli a un confronto aperto. La trasparenza non è nascondere chi ha avuto un’idea, è dichiararlo e permettere a tutti di valutarla.
Ha appena compiuto cinquant’anni, ventiquattro dei quali trascorsi nelle relazioni istituzionali. In tutto questo tempo ha imparato di più a convincere gli altri o a cambiare idea?
A cambiare idea. La mia professoressa di latino al liceo mi ha inculcato il valore del dubbio, del mettersi in discussione, di “proteggere” la propria idea, ma allo stesso tempo di farsi permeare dal parere degli altri, aprendo così finestre su paesaggi nuovi. Convincere, invece, non fa parte del mio vocabolario, perché, sempre tornando alla mia professoressa, nel latino classico, convincere significava principalmente vincere qualcuno sul piano logico o legale. E il mio lavoro non si fa convincendo altri della bontà della propria posizione, ma trovando insieme la strada comune avendo un obiettivo che in ogni caso ha delle ripercussioni sulle persone, in particolare sui pazienti. Ammetto quindi di non aver mai convinto nessuno.
Princes and Thieves, a new book by investigative journalist Matthew Cole, may open a rabbit hole into financial connections between Middle Eastern dictators and President Donald Trump's family. Cole accuses Emirati monarch Mohamed bin Zayed (MBZ) of sending billions of dollars to various mercenaries and political operators, including Jared Kushner, son-in-law to President Donald Trump. Cole's reporting combines well-documented connections with secondhand accounts from anonymous sources.
On Thursday, Vanity Fairpublished an excerpt from the book, reporting that Dutch military intelligence hacked into Kushner's phone in 2018 and discovered hundreds of millions of dollars in bank transfers connected to MBZ. Also on Thursday, Kushner published a letter from his lawyers to Cole categorically denying the "incredible and false" allegations in the book. "Mr. Kushner never accessed foreign accounts and always followed all rules and regulations and only pursued goals that were in the best interest of the United States as directed by the President of the United States," they wrote.
Cole had originally written on his blog that the book was scheduled for release on October 27, but the publication date was pushed forward over the weekend.
The book purports to tie Kushner to a vast web of Emirati influence operations around the world. In Cole's telling, which matches other journalists' accounts, MBZ wants to reshape the Middle East and eastern Africa into an alliance of U.S.-backed dictatorships, where "tolerance" is enforced through high-tech surveillance and "democracy" is a synonym for terrorism. MBZ's use of mercenaries in pursuit of these goals is well-documented. So is Kushner's personal affinity with the Emirati monarch and his business ties with the Arab monarchies.
Soon after Trump won the 2016 election, MBZ held a widely reported meeting with Kushner. According to the book—and according to much of that earlier reporting—the monarch complained about the Obama administration's failure to back Arab regimes against popular revolutions, its decision to end the Iraq War, and its diplomacy with Iran.
Going much further than past reporting, Cole now claims Kushner was personally involved in MBZ's mercenary operations. MBZ and Saudi Crown Prince Mohammad bin Salman put a collective $2 billion into Emirati and Israeli bank accounts which were managed (but not technically owned) by Kushner, according to Cole's sources. Those same sources claim that parts of this secret "slush fund" went to Libyan warlord Khalifa Haftar, American military contractor Erik Prince, and Cuban hitman Felipe Vidal.
Haftar, a former CIA asset, became a general in Libya's 2011 revolution and then attempted to overthrow the new government with Emirati backing in 2014. Despite a 2020 ceasefire, his forces continue to control much of Libya. Prince, founder of the military contractor formerly known as Blackwater, moved to the UAE and helped build a secret army of Colombian mercenaries. He sued Cole for defamation after Cole reported on Prince's role in helping Haftar, but a judge threw out the case. Cole's sources claimed that Vidal, a self-described "hit man," helped the United Arab Emirates (UAE) fake an Iranian attack on oil tankers in May 2019, meant to provoke Trump into war.
Kushner's lawyers have denied any relationship with any of those three men, apart from a single meeting with Prince after the 2016 election. (According to Cole, both Vidal and Prince refused to comment for the book.) The position of the U.S. government is that the May 2019 incident was a genuine Iranian attack, not an Emirati false flag.
After the Vanity Fair article was published last week, Israeli negotiator Gershon Baskin pointed out in The Jerusalem Post that the Central Bank of Israel "does not offer private banking services to individuals," which would make it impossible for Kushner's money to be deposited in the Central Bank of Israel, as Cole claimed. The book addresses that argument, claiming that the money was deposited "in what would appear to be a government account," with Kushner and Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu jointly authorizing transactions.
The Abraham Accords, which include an alliance between Israel and the UAE, have often been touted as a way for the U.S. to "spend less time and less resources in the Middle East," in the words of Vice President J.D. Vance. But Cole argues that the UAE actually used its alliance to entangle American interests in a future conflict. The book states that Kushner set up "a rainy-day defense fund" for war with Iran, using Emirati money deposited in a separate Central Bank of Israel account.
Cole also claims to have evidence that Kushner was on the take from the UAE's regional frenemy Qatar. In 2017, the UAE and Saudi Arabia issued an ultimatum for Qatar to rein in its foreign policy and blockaded the small nation. The Intercept later reported that Kushner's father had sought a Qatari bailout for the family real estate business just before the crisis, and the Qatari-linked company Brookfield ended up providing the needed investment in August 2018, leading to a congressional investigation into the deal.
Democrats are still digging for information on Kushner's business ties to Qatar, but three sources told Cole that the Qatari royal family authorized and paid for the Brookfield deal. The Qatari government "asked the White House how to resolve the blockade. And the Kushners kept saying, 'We have this great property that needs investment.' Eventually, the Qataris realized the only way to settle the blockade was to buy the building," a former U.S. intelligence officer said.
Kushner's lawyers write that they have "no evidence that Qatar impacted the investment decision. Any suggestion of his involvement in the transaction or any allegation of quid pro quo with the Qatari government is false and defamatory."
Other parts of the book are better-documented. Cole obtained a draft of Prince's autobiography, text messages from one of Prince's colleagues, and emails from Emirati government adviser George Nader, who was convicted of fraudulently funneling money into Hillary Clinton's 2016 presidential campaign. If nothing else, the book is a comprehensive account of the UAE's unofficial empire and its American ties. But the most explosive claims about Kushner's involvement in those activities rest on anonymous sources, making it a matter of Cole's word against Kushner's.
"I considered the responses from Kushner's attorneys carefully and consulted multiple sources about them. During the five years I have spent working on this book, I have tried to keep an open mind, and I am confident that my reporting is accurate. Kushner's lawyers' responses did not change that conclusion," Cole writes in the book's epilogue.
From the 17th to the 20th century, Ukrainian lands were split between empires and states. Their rulers tried to assimilate Ukrainians and block their self-determination by going after what set them apart: their language and culture.
Nobody has an exact count of the bans. Historian Pavlo Hai-Nyzhnyk says there were more than 100 and that the real number is likely higher, because governors issued local bans too.
These measures differed in purpose and reach. Some restricted publishing, schooling, or official use; others suppressed cultural institutions or pushed assimilation. Most served the forced Russification of Ukrainians in the Russian Empire and the USSR. The timeline below is a selection of documented events, not a count of bans.
Russia has not stopped. Since 2014, schooling in Ukrainian has collapsed in the territories it occupies, and in 2025 it removed Ukrainian from the federal school programs it imposes there.
Here are some of the most important restrictions on Ukrainian language and cultural life imposed by the regimes ruling over Ukraine.
Graphic by Ganna Naronina from the article A short guide to the linguicide of the Ukrainian language. Click to enlarge.
17th century
1627: Muscovy. Moscow church authorities condemn Kyrylo Trankvilion-Stavrovetskyi’s Didactic Gospel, a collection of sermons printed in Ukraine in 1619, and order copies burned in Moscow.
1697: Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. An act requires tribunal and court decisions in the Grand Duchy of Lithuania to be written in Polish, displacing Ruthenian in those courts.
18th century
1720: Russian Tsardom. Peter I’s decree restricts the Kyiv and Chernihiv presses to approved reprints of church books and requires them to conform to Russian editions, suppressing local textual and linguistic differences.
1728: Russian Empire. Under the Decisive Points (Reshytelni punkty), the legal texts used in the Hetmanate’s courts are to be translated into Russian and compiled into a single code.
1730s: Russian Empire. Under Empress Anna, Kyiv’s archbishop is instructed to replace older locally printed church books with Moscow editions.
1769: Russian Empire. The Holy Synod refuses the Kyiv-Pechersk Lavra permission to print primers in the local language and tells it not to submit such requests again.
1775: Russian Empire. A Russian army destroys the Zaporozhian Sich, the Cossacks’ last stronghold and one of Ukraine’s own political institutions.
1780s: Russian Empire. Samuil Myslavskyi, metropolitan of Kyiv from 1783, insists on literary Russian as the only language of instruction at the Kyiv-Mohyla Academy.
1789: Polish-Lithuanian Commonwealth. The Commission of National Education orders the Ukrainian parish schools of Right-Bank Ukraine Polonized.
19th century
1847: Russian Empire. After suppressing the Cyril and Methodius Brotherhood, a secret society that called for a federation of free Slavic peoples, the authorities ban and withdraw from sale specified works by Taras Shevchenko, Panteleimon Kulish, and Mykola Kostomarov.
1859: Austrian Empire. Austrian officials back a plan to replace the Cyrillic alphabet used for Ukrainian in Galicia with a Latin one. Ukrainian opposition defeats the plan in what became known as the “alphabet war.”
1862: Russian Empire. The authorities close the Sunday schools, free schools for working adults and young people, including Ukrainian ones. They begin reopening under tighter control in 1864.
1863: Russian Empire. Interior Minister Pyotr Valuev’s circular tells censors not to approve Ukrainian religious, school, and popular-reading books, while still allowing fiction under censorship. It claims that most Little Russians themselves argue that “there was not, is not, and cannot be any special Little Russian language.”
1864: Russian Empire. The 1864 statute requires Russian as the teaching language in the elementary schools it regulates.
1869: Austria-Hungary. Polish becomes the internal language of administration and the courts in Galicia. The 1867 school arrangements had already strengthened Polish dominance, while leaving limited room for Ukrainian-language schooling.
1876: Russian Empire. Alexander II’s secret Ems Ukaz severely restricts Ukrainian publishing and bans Ukrainian publications from abroad, Ukrainian stage performances and public readings, and Ukrainian lyrics printed with music. Exceptions allow historical documents in their original spelling and fiction in Russian spelling under censorship.
1881: Russian Empire. New rules ease parts of the Ems Ukaz: Ukrainian plays may be staged with a governor’s special permission. Theater troupes performing only in Ukrainian stay banned.
1883: Russian Empire. Kyiv Governor-General Aleksandr Drenteln bars Ukrainian theater troupes from performing in the Kyiv, Podillia, Volhynia, Poltava, and Chernihiv governorates.
1910: Russian Empire. A circular from Pyotr Stolypin’s interior ministry tells governors to refuse registration to non-Russian national societies, Ukrainian ones included, and to review existing ones for closure. Kyiv’s Prosvita is dissolved the same year.
1914–15, 1916–17: Russian Empire. Russian occupation authorities suppress Ukrainian institutions and publications in Galicia and Bukovyna. The first occupation brings mass arrests and deportations, the destruction of Ukrainian books, and the arrest of Metropolitan Andrei Sheptytskyi.
1923: Soviet Ukraine. Dmytro Lebid, second secretary of the Communist Party of Ukraine, sets out the “theory of the struggle of two cultures,” which holds that the Russian culture of the city is more advanced than the Ukrainian culture of the village. The party rejects it and adopts Ukrainization the same year.
1924: Poland. Three laws of 31 July make Polish the state language of administration and the courts, keep limited rights for minority languages, and set school rules that favor Polish-Ukrainian bilingual schools over separate Ukrainian ones.
1924: Romania. The primary education law requires citizens of Romanian origin who have “lost their mother tongue” to send their children to Romanian schools. Ukrainian historians say it was applied to Ukrainians in Bukovyna.
1925: Poland. The Lviv Underground Ukrainian University, which had taught clandestinely since 1921, stops teaching after police raids and the Polish state’s refusal to recognize it.
1926: USSR. In a letter to Kaganovich and the Ukrainian Politburo, Stalin attacks Oleksandr Shumskyi and Mykola Khvylovyi and rejects Ukrainizing Russian workers “from above,” while still backing controlled Ukrainization of official institutions.
1932–33: USSR. A secret resolution of 14 December 1932 orders the Ukrainian-language paperwork and press of the North Caucasus switched to Russian at once and its schools prepared for teaching in Russian. In Soviet Ukraine, it puts Ukrainization under tighter party control and demands purges of “nationalist” elements. The repression of 1933 dismantles Ukrainization.
1938: USSR. A decree of 13 March makes Russian a compulsory subject in the non-Russian schools of the national republics and regions.
1947: Poland. In Operation Vistula, Polish authorities forcibly resettle about 150,000 Ukrainians to northern and western Poland, under an assimilation policy that sought to keep them below 10% of any locality.
1958–59: USSR. The school reform expands parents’ choice of teaching language and makes the study of Ukrainian optional in Russian-language schools in Soviet Ukraine.
1960s–70s: Romania and Poland. Romania nearly eliminates Ukrainian-language schooling from the mid-1960s. In Poland, Ukrainian schools and Ukrainian classes shrink.
1972: USSR. The party’s resolution on the USSR’s 50th anniversary promotes the “new historical community, the Soviet people,” an idea first voiced in 1961. Soviet ethnographers wrote that the spread of Russian among non-Russian peoples played the paramount role in forming this community.
1978: USSR. The USSR Council of Ministers orders wider study of Russian in the union republics. Ukraine’s implementing resolution of 2 November requires Russian from first grade in Ukrainian-language schools from the 1980/81 school year.
1983: USSR. A resolution of 26 May gives specified teachers of Russian in non-Russian schools in villages and small towns a 15% pay raise from 1984.
1984: USSR. The school reform resolution of 12 April adds two to three hours of Russian a week in grades 2 to 11 of non-Russian schools.
1989: USSR. The Communist Party’s party platform of 20 September calls for making Russian, by law, the language of the whole country alongside the republics’ state languages.
1990: USSR. The April 1990 law on the languages of the peoples of the USSR makes Russian the official language of the Soviet Union, while letting the republics set their own state languages.
21st century
2014–18: Crimea. Under Russian occupation, schooling in Ukrainian collapses. In 2013/14, 12,694 children studied in Ukrainian in 7 schools and 829 classes; by 2017/18, 318 children did, in one school and 13 classes, the UN human rights office reports, noting the figures conflict in places.
2020: DNR and LNR. The so-called DNR votes to amend its “constitution” on 6 March, dropping Ukrainian as a “state language” and leaving only Russian. The so-called LNR does the same in June.
2022: Occupied Kherson and Zaporizhzhia oblasts. Russia’s Education Ministry says on 12 August that schools in newly occupied areas will teach in Russian, with Ukrainian allowed only as an optional “native” language. Occupation authorities then cap Ukrainian at three hours a week, Human Rights Watch reports.
2023: Occupied Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts. Russia removes nearly all Ukrainian literature from local libraries, most likely destroying it, Ukraine’s National Resistance Center reports. The so-called LNR publishes a list of banned books.
2024: International Court of Justice. On 31 January, the court ruled, 13 votes to 2, that Russia violated the UN convention against racial discrimination in how it ran school education in Ukrainian in occupied Crimea.
2025: Russia. Education Ministry Order No. 729, in force since 15 December, removes Ukrainian language and literature from Russia’s federal primary and lower-secondary programs, the UN human rights office reports. Russia imposes these programs on schools in the occupied territories, where about 582,000 children study, the Almenda center says.
What we changed in October 2026
Editor’s note, 27 October 2026: We first published this timeline in 2017. Like many lists of bans on Ukrainian that circulate online, it repeated some claims that have no document behind them. In October 2026, we went back to historians’ work and to the decrees themselves.
We removed about fifteen entries. Most we could not confirm; a few were not about language. We corrected others where the documents say something different: some bans had exceptions, some dates were off by a year, and the end of Ukrainization came in 1932–33. We replaced the old count of 60 bans, which we could not trace, with a historian’s estimate. And we added what Russia has done to the Ukrainian language in the territories it has occupied since 2014.
If you have a document for something we left out, write to us.
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Mali is not the only place threatened by a JNIM takeover. The West African branch of Al Qaeda is active in a belt of countries known as the Sahel. Its leader, Iyad Ag Ghali, was the former percussionist for the rock band Tinariwen. He now leads a campaign to stamp out the "music of Satan." Perhaps the one saving grace for Sahelian metalheads is that puritans can't get along with each other: The JNIM is locked in a war with the rival Islamic State Sahel Province.
The Sahelian civil wars are a testament to the failure of the global war on terror. Despite spending $355 billion on African counterterrorism from 2001 to 2021, the U.S. government has been unable to stop Al Qaeda or related Islamist groups from taking root across the continent. A study by the Pentagon's Africa Center for Strategic Studies found a 101,300 percent increase in terrorism fatalities from 2002 to 2022, mostly concentrated in the Sahel and Somalia.
These wars demonstrate that the solution to terrorism isn't maximum violence. President Donald Trump launched four times as many airstrikes against Somalia in his first 18 months of his second term as the U.S. did over the past four years combined. U.S. military aid has flowed to repressive governments across Africa with little respect for their citizens' rights. Since 2020, there have been coups d'etat across the Sahel by military men promising that they can do the dirty work that civilian leaders are afraid of. Many of them were trained by the U.S. government. The new regimes have imported Russian mercenaries with a reputation for brutality and no real restraints on their activities.
"People need to forget about the question of democracy," Ibrahim Traoré, leader of Burkina Faso, declared in April.
Instead of restoring order, these heavy-handed tactics have caused more chaos. The military juntas in the Sahel are plainly losing to the JNIM. While the Russian fighters have no difficulties massacring civilians or mutilating prisoners, they have found it much harder to face people who can actually shoot back, facing repeated battlefield humiliations. Meanwhile, the U.S.-led campaign against al-Shabab, the Somali branch of Al Qaeda, has stalled out despite the heavier use of airpower.
The African war on terror began shortly after the U.S. campaigns in Afghanistan and Iraq. To some extent, the U.S. created the very threats that it is trying to fight in Africa. Somalia had been at civil war since the fall of socialism, and in the early 2000s, the CIA began funding Somali warlords to stop the rise of Islamist revolutionaries. The (relatively moderate) Islamic Courts Union took over anyway in 2006—uniting Somalia for the first time in more than a decade—and the U.S. encouraged neighboring Ethiopia to invade. When al-Shabab emerged to fight the Ethiopian invaders, the U.S. tapped a former leader of the Islamic Courts Union to lead a new Somali government.
Soon after the Ethiopian-Somali war, President George W. Bush created the Pentagon's Africa Command, and Congress budgeted $500 million in aid to militaries in the Sahara Desert and the Sahel. At the time, the main Islamist threat to that region was a mostly defeated insurgency in Algeria.
But the Libyan civil war in 2011 created terrible new monsters. Soon after President Barack Obama intervened in support of the Libyan revolution, weapons and hardened fighters from Libya flooded the ethnic Tuareg region of Mali, which declared independence a few months later. Soon after, Al Qaeda and its affiliates took over the Tuareg rebellion. With the Malian government coming close to collapse, France intervened in January 2013 and made many of the same mistakes that the U.S. did in its own war on terror.
Ag Ghali, the current leader of the JNIM, got his start as a Tuareg nationalist. A leaked U.S. embassy cable from 2008 called him a "proverbial bad penny" who enjoyed "playing both sides" and had ties to Islamist and secular nationalist rebels. By the time of the French intervention, he was fully committed to Islamic theocracy. In 2017, he united Islamist rebels across the Sahel under the banner of Al Qaeda. That same year, four U.S. Special Forces troops were killed in Niger by the Islamic State group, which was busy uniting Ag Ghali's rivals.
Despite the failures of the Sahelian governments to stop Ag Ghali—and their willingness to ally with Russia—the Trump administration is eager to double down on supporting them. The U.S. government increased intelligence sharing with Mali in 2025, and as of July it was considering a direct military intervention against the JNIM, according to The Washington Post. But every American escalation on the continent has produced the enemy that the next one had to fight.
The prime minister previously said that he wanted a debate on how Britain can establish a closer relationship
Speaking at his rough sleeping summit in Downing Street this morning, Andy Burnham expanded on the claim he made on Good Morning Britain about tackling rough sleeping being cheaper than ignoring the problem. (See 11.13am.)
He said:
We’ve also got to be conscious when we speak to the rest of the country, the taxpayers of this country, that actually to leave people sleeping rough has financial consequences. It doesn’t work for anybody and it doesn’t work for the public purse, because if you leave people in a position where they are in and out of A&E, and in and out of a hospital bed, that doesn’t make sense for anybody.
There is a rock-solid business case to do something to end homelessness, to put people on a path to recovery, so that they can contribute once again. And that should be the thinking that we take to this conversation.
Burnham is throwing another £432m at a problem he failed to solve in Greater Manchester. Under Labour, rough sleeping has hit record highs – yet their answer is always more taxpayers’ money and more empty promises.
[John] Healey must use his budget this week to cut taxes for working people, get the ballooning benefits bill under control, and stop pushing up energy prices.
John Healey is expected to confirm on Wednesday that the full state pension will rise by £489 to £13,036 – equivalent to 3.9%.
However, the rise will push about one million people on low incomes who rely on the state pension above the £12,570 personal allowance threshold, meaning they would be dragged into paying income tax.
EU exit has damaged economy and failed to bring promised benefits, says PM, but he rules out big pre-election changes
Brexit has not “played out” like it was promised to the public, has weakened the economy and the current deal is not good enough, Andy Burnham has said, while ruling out any major changes in the current parliament.
The prime minister said Britain had ended up with a “harder Brexit than was proposed in the referendum campaign” and it had not helped to control the small boats crisis. Backing the home secretary’s tougher immigration rules, he said Brexit had weakened the UK’s ability to control its borders as it could no longer send people back to Europe.
A foreign affairs expert’s bleak assessment of the state of global security
Are we on the brink of a new world war? This bleak subject is increasingly invoked by leaders, soldiers and officials, from Donald Trump to Vladimir Putin to the heads of our military and intelligence services. It’s an urgent theme, then, for the FT foreign affairs columnist Gideon Rachman to explore in his latest survey of global diplomacy. Rachman draws his title from the expression, sometimes attributed to Trotsky: “You may not be interested in war, but war is interested in you” – the idea being that conflict doesn’t much care whether we like to think about it or not: it will come knocking on our doors regardless.
Clearly, humanity is in a particularly unsafe spot right now, but seeing our security issues laid out like this, catalogued and mapped and analysed, they seem almost overwhelming. To summarise: the most powerful, nuclear-armed states – the US, China and Russia – are led by unscrupulous, self-dealing “strongmen”, each of whom is playing with the nationalist “Great Again” politics epitomised by Trump. Democracy is being rolled back around the world, and even bastions of liberalism such as the UK, France and Germany seem vulnerable to takeover by the Putin-friendly far right. The so-called rules-based international order and its institutions – the UN, the WTO, Nato – are being deliberately undermined by the aforementioned strongmen, and are as weak now as they have ever been.
Green blobbers want us to stop drilling because the North Sea is running dry – so why the panic about oil and gas extraction? The answer is that it’s as much about politics and punitive taxes as geology, says Ben Pile.
European Union fisheries ministers are meeting in Luxembourg on 26th October to negotiate catch limits for the Baltic Sea in 2027, confronting a sharply divided scientific picture in which some commercially important fish populations are recovering while others remain at critically low levels.
The European Commission has proposed increasing total fishing opportunities by approximately 35 per cent compared with 2026, largely because of improved assessments for several herring stocks and sprat. At the same time, it wants substantial reductions in permitted accidental catches of cod, whose depleted populations have shown little evidence of sustained recovery.
The negotiations, scheduled for 26th and potentially 27th October, will determine how fishing opportunities are allocated between EU member states bordering the Baltic Sea.
According to the Council’s published agenda, ministers are seeking a political agreement on total allowable catches and national quotas for ten commercially significant fish stocks.
The outcome will determine how much fish can be landed legally during 2027, while also influencing the future prospects of coastal communities, processing companies and fishing fleets.
Brussels recommends increasing the catch limit for central Baltic herring by 49 per cent and for sprat by 44 per cent. Proposed increases for Bothnian herring and Gulf of Riga herring are more modest, at three and 11 per cent respectively.
The improved outlook for sprat follows stronger reproduction in recent years, while scientific assessments suggest some herring populations are beginning to recover.
However, these improvements do not mean the Baltic ecosystem as a whole has returned to a healthy condition.
Central Baltic and Bothnian herring remain below important sustainability reference levels, even though the latest scientific assessments permit increased catches under specified conditions.
For cod, the position is considerably worse.
The International Council for the Exploration of the Sea, known as ICES, has advised that there should be no catches of eastern Baltic cod in 2027 or 2028 under its precautionary approach.
Western Baltic cod faces similarly severe restrictions.
The Commission consequently proposes reducing the permitted incidental catch of western Baltic cod by 88 per cent and eastern Baltic cod by 51 per cent.
These allowances are designed to account for fish caught unintentionally during other fishing operations. They do not amount to the reopening of a targeted commercial cod fishery.
Fishing communities face uneven consequences
The proposed increases in herring and sprat quotas would benefit some fishing operators and processing industries, but the economic effects will vary significantly between countries and fleets.
Larger vessels specialising in pelagic species such as herring and sprat are likely to benefit more directly from increased catch opportunities.
Smaller operators whose activities depend on depleted stocks or mixed fisheries may face continued restrictions.
The Commission also proposes reducing the permitted incidental catch of western Baltic herring by 45 per cent and removing an exemption previously available to certain small-scale coastal fisheries.
That proposal creates a particularly difficult issue for smaller fishing businesses, whose operations may have limited capacity to switch fishing grounds or target different species.
The economic effects will depend not only on the size of the quotas but also on how national governments distribute them among individual operators.
The limits of quota management
The Baltic Sea’s problems cannot be explained by fishing pressure alone.
Nutrient pollution, changes in oxygen availability, habitat degradation and shifting environmental conditions have contributed to the deterioration of several stocks.
Restrictions on fishing can reduce direct pressure on fish populations, but they cannot independently resolve pollution or other environmental problems affecting reproduction and survival.
This complicates the relationship between scientific advice and political decisions.
Ministers are required to take account of conservation objectives under the Common Fisheries Policy. They must also consider the economic consequences for fishing communities and the viability of fleets operating within the agreed limits.
The Baltic negotiations present a particularly concentrated version of that conflict because the condition of individual stocks varies so substantially.
Ministers must decide how much recovery is sufficient
The Commission’s proposed increases are based on the latest assessments rather than a general relaxation of conservation policy.
Indeed, its draft regulation envisages maintaining restrictions on vulnerable stocks while allowing greater exploitation where the scientific evidence supports it.
The proposed overall catch volume is approximately 543,000 tonnes, compared with substantially lower fishing opportunities in 2026.
That figure represents a proposed ceiling, not a confirmed agreement or a forecast of actual landings.
Once ministers reach a political agreement, the Council is expected to adopt the final regulation formally in November, with the principal catch limits applying from 1 January 2027.
The central question is whether governments will preserve the distinction between stocks showing measurable recovery and those for which scientific advisers continue to recommend no fishing.
Their decision will determine both the short-term economics of Baltic fisheries and the pace at which the region’s most vulnerable commercial fish populations may recover.
Calculations from the Center for Global Development say spending next year is likely to be £410m less than anticipated
The UK is on course to miss its target of spending 0.3% of national income on international aid by an estimated £400m by the end of next year.
Calculations from the Center for Global Development (CGD) found the UK was on course for a large shortfall in promised official development assistance at the end of 2027.
Democrats across battleground districts are holding Republicans’ feet to the fire over the Medicaid cuts in their signature One Big Beautiful Bill law. In advertisements and on debate stages, the Democrats are hammering their opponents over their support for a law that will reduce Medicaid funding by nearly $1 trillion to pay for tax cuts primarily…
European leaders are considering appointing a senior representative to negotiate with Russia over Ukraine. But the search exposes a more fundamental problem: whether Europe can transform its economic strength, military resources and political influence into an independent capacity to shape its own security.
Europe is searching for someone capable of negotiating with Vladimir Putin. Yet the question confronting European capitals is considerably more difficult than identifying a politician with sufficient experience, authority and diplomatic skill. It is whether Europe possesses the political unity and strategic independence to negotiate with Moscow on equal terms.
According to diplomatic accounts published on 22nd October, five European leaders have emerged as possible representatives: Italian Prime Minister Giorgia Meloni, Finnish President Alexander Stubb, Czech President Petr Pavel, Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen and Norwegian Prime Minister Jonas Gahr Støre.
No appointment has been announced, and a group of negotiators may ultimately prove more acceptable than a single representative. The initiative reflects concern that Washington’s negotiations with Moscow could produce arrangements affecting European security without sufficient European influence over their terms.
The European Commission insists that the EU is already participating in diplomatic consultations, including discussions held in Oslo on 20th October. But participation in preliminary meetings is not the same as possessing the authority to determine the outcome.
The paradox of European power
Europe’s predicament contains an extraordinary contradiction. The European Union is among Ukraine’s principal financial supporters. Its governments provide military assistance, maintain sanctions against Russia and control decisions affecting Moscow’s future access to European markets. Nevertheless, European capitals remain concerned that the decisive political framework for ending the war could be negotiated principally between Washington and Moscow.
This anxiety has intensified under President Donald Trump, whose transactional approach increasingly treats diplomatic settlements as exchanges of economic concessions and strategic advantages.
As EU Today recently examined, proposals involving sanctions relief, renewed energy cooperation and commercial opportunities raise the possibility of arrangements that depend upon European consent but are negotiated elsewhere.
Washington can discuss reopening economic relations with Russia. It cannot independently reverse European sanctions, guarantee Ukraine’s accession to the EU or decide the continent’s future security arrangements. The European Council explicitly reaffirmed this distinction in its conclusions of 16th October, insisting that decisions affecting the Union’s security and responsibilities belong to Europe itself.
The central issue is therefore not whether Europe has influence, but whether it can organise that influence into a coherent negotiating position.
Why Ukraine must help choose Europe’s representative
An equally important weakness would arise if European governments selected their representative without making Kyiv an integral participant in the decision.
Ukraine is not merely the geographical subject of negotiations. Its government controls whether a proposed settlement can acquire political legitimacy, while its armed forces determine much of what can be implemented on the ground.
A negotiated agreement rejected by Kyiv could neither reliably end the war nor provide the security arrangements that Europe seeks.
European security, moreover, can no longer be considered independently of Ukraine’s military capabilities. Ukrainian forces possess extensive operational experience against Russia, including in drone warfare, electronic warfare and long-range strikes.
Any future continental defence architecture that excludes this experience would disregard one of Europe’s most consequential military assets.
An effective European representative would therefore require a mandate developed jointly with Ukraine, rather than simply endorsed by European governments after the event.
The danger of negotiating without leverage
The proposed candidates illustrate the difficulty of combining political authority with negotiating credibility. Meloni possesses a working relationship with Trump and considerable influence within European conservative politics. Stubb combines experience of Russia’s immediate neighbourhood with access to Washington. Pavel brings military expertise and an understanding of NATO’s command structures. Yet none could independently commit Europe’s governments to financial, military or territorial-security obligations.
This is the fundamental weakness of the proposed office. A negotiator requires more than access to powerful leaders. The ability to make commitments, withhold concessions and impose costs is what gives diplomatic representation substance.
Europe possesses potentially significant instruments: sanctions, industrial capacity, financial assistance and growing defence expenditure. But these remain distributed across institutions and national governments with differing strategic priorities.
Poland, the Baltic states and Nordic governments approach Russian security threats differently from several Western and Southern European capitals. Reconciling those positions is not an administrative exercise. It is a prerequisite for meaningful diplomacy.
The historical shadow of Yalta
The search also reflects European concern about a return to great-power bargaining over the continent’s political geography.
The historical comparison frequently invoked is Yalta in 1945, when Roosevelt, Churchill and Stalin discussed Europe’s post-war settlement. Munich in 1938 offers another warning about negotiating territorial concessions at the expense of directly affected states. Neither precedent precisely describes the present situation.
Unlike the countries subjected to Soviet domination after the Second World War, today’s European states possess established institutions, substantial economic resources and collective defence arrangements. Ukraine, meanwhile, has demonstrated that Russia cannot simply dictate its political future through military superiority.
Nevertheless, the danger lies in accepting the underlying principle that powerful states possess a privileged right to determine the sovereignty and security choices of their neighbours.
Moscow’s demands concerning NATO, Ukrainian territory and Europe’s wider security arrangements extend beyond any conventional ceasefire negotiation.
A European representative would have to challenge that premise rather than merely negotiate the geographical limits of Russian influence.
From diplomatic representation to strategic authority
The debate inevitably leads to Europe’s military dependence upon the United States. An American withdrawal from NATO is not inevitable. Indeed, US legislation restricts unilateral presidential withdrawal. But Washington could substantially reduce its military commitments without formally abandoning the alliance.
Europe must therefore consider how much independent military capacity it requires to support its diplomatic positions. That entails coordinated procurement, integrated military planning, sustainable defence production and deeper cooperation with Britain, Norway, Canada and Ukraine. Recent security challenges in the Black Sea illustrate the difficulty of converting European diplomatic commitments into effective collective action.
These developments would not automatically create a European army or replace NATO. They could, however, give European governments greater freedom to act if American priorities diverge from their own.
The relationship between military capability and diplomacy is particularly important in dealing with Moscow. European representatives cannot expect Russia to revise its demands simply because Brussels has selected a more prominent interlocutor.
Russia would have to conclude that continued aggression carries greater costs than a settlement respecting Ukraine’s sovereignty. Europe’s diplomatic standing would then derive not from the personality of its representative but from the collective resources and political commitments behind that individual.
The immediate search for a negotiator may appear a limited diplomatic initiative. Its implications are considerably larger.
For decades, European security rested upon an arrangement in which American military power compensated for Europe’s fragmented strategic authority. The present negotiations are exposing the limitations of that model. The decisive question is not whether Meloni, Stubb, Pavel or another European leader can secure a place at the negotiating table. It is whether Europe can establish a common position, backed by Ukraine’s consent and by sufficient economic and military power, that neither Washington nor Moscow can disregard.
Without those foundations, a European envoy risks becoming a participant in decisions made by others. With them, the appointment could mark the beginning of a substantially different European role in international security.
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