This article was originally published in Vol. 5 No. 1 of our print edition.
Emerging from the ruins of post-war Europe, the European integration project aimed to prevent interstate conflicts by intertwining national economies and institutions. Over time, this integration evolved beyond economic cooperation and peace building. Following key treaties—most notably the Single European Act and the Maastricht Treaty—the European Union progressively assumed a supranational character, with technocratic authority increasingly encroaching on national sovereignty and democratic prerogatives.
Notable inconsistencies have marked this technocratic governance. While the EU subjects Hungary to heightened scrutiny, legal challenges, and sanctions for perceived transgressions, it has been notably lenient toward powerful Western European states with similar issues—from France’s expansive surveillance laws to Germany’s reintroduction of internal border controls. These discrepancies reveal an underlying strategy beyond simple value enforcement: rather than universally upholding principles like human rights or freedom of the press, the EU selectively enforces these standards to consolidate a particular vision of European identity. Through this selective moralizing approach, Hungary has been positioned as a strategic ‘outgroup’, serving as a necessary adversary to reinforce the political legitimacy of the technocratic ‘ingroup’ regime.
The paper begins by tracing the historical evolution of European integration, highlighting how it moved from economic cooperation to a governance model dominated by technocracy after Maastricht. This transformation led to a professional managerial class that has gradually hollowed out democratic accountability by shifting power from national governments to supranational institutions. We then explore the EU’s selective enforcement of values through the case of Hungary, contrasting this with the treatment of powerful Western states like France and Germany to illustrate the inconsistency in applying supposed European norms.
Building on Carl Schmitt’s assertion that political identities coalesce against perceived enemies and Giorgio Agamben’s notion of the ‘state of exception’ in which standard rules are suspended, this paper argues that the EU portrays states like Hungary as existential threats to its normative order. In doing so, the Union crafts an environment where exceptional scrutiny and punitive actions are justified, effectively setting Hungary apart as a moral and political outlier.
Finally, the implications of this selective technocracy are examined, focusing on how it undermines national sovereignty, democratic accountability, and the foundational social contract between states and citizens. The paper concludes that while values like human rights and democracy are vital, their strategic and inconsistent application as control instruments erodes the principles they protect.
Post-War Supranationalism and Managed Democracy
In post-war Europe, technocratic forms of supranational governance emerged to manage ever-greater areas of economic and political life. This deepening European economic interdependence was justified as necessary to mitigate interstate war on the continent. By deepening interdependence, states would move beyond forms of national identity, and the historical accelerants of conflict would be pacified. The nation state, emergent from a deeper cultural and historical identity, was to be deconstructed and reassembled into a pan-European whole.
The European Economic Community (EEC), and later the European Union (EU), institutionalized this technocratic governance structure across a broader range of policy areas. The European Commission, an appointed executive body with extensive regulatory powers, exemplifies the EU’s technocratic leanings. Post-Maastricht, the EU’s scope expanded further, particularly with the establishment of the European Central Bank (ECB) in 1998, which oversees monetary policy for the eurozone independently from national governments.
At the heart of this post-war political order, new supranational elites emerged to guide and deepen these trends. In an early analysis of this, James Burnham’s masterful The Managerial Revolution argued that these new technocratic elites are replacing the more traditional economic elites, as in post-war governance, technocrats increasingly control the means of management and administration through forms of regulatory capture and can thus shape modern society through opaque expertise and bureaucratic authority.1 Building on his analysis, Barbara and John Ehrenreich introduced a theory of the ‘professional-managerial class’ (PMC) that seeks to manage populations and is complicit in extending forms of one-step removed governance through ever-expanding technocratic control and cultural influence.2
Initially limited by the exigencies of Cold War bipolarity, this regime accelerated significantly in the post-Cold War era, freed from geopolitical constraints and underwritten by the superintendence of America’s unipolar moment. Strategically, this technocratic regime constitutionalized inherently contentious political struggles over identity, sovereignty, and the social contract.3 Through political-institutional innovations such as the Maastricht Treaty, the European Central Bank’s control over eurozone monetary policy, the supremacy of EU law, and the European Commission’s broad regulatory authority, it systematically curbed national sovereignty, thereby challenging the democratic social contract between citizens and their nationally elected representatives.
‘Through this selective moralizing approach, Hungary has been positioned as a strategic “outgroup”, serving as a necessary adversary to reinforce the political legitimacy of the technocratic “ingroup” regime’
Accompanying the rise of the PMC and democratic capture, jobs were offshored, and capital became more fluid; in the era of neoliberal globalization, governance followed suit, further migrating from the nation state to supranational entities.4 This shift allowed the PMC to entrench its social power within technocratic institutions in an increasingly footloose era of transnational capitalism and shielded it from direct democratic accountability. Governance became ‘one step removed’, with decisions made by quasi-autonomous bureaucratic bodies rather than by nationally elected representatives, effectively hollowing out democracy.5 Domestic politics, in this context, was reduced to performative theatre, with actual political decision-making outsourced to higher levels of governance that ordinary citizens could not influence.6 Arguably the most egregious example of this is the handling of the Greek sovereign debt crisis during the early 2010s, with critical decisions made by quasi-autonomous bureaucratic bodies, particularly the ‘Troika’—composed of the European Commission, the European Central Bank (ECB), and the International Monetary Fund (IMF)—rather than by Greece’s democratically elected representatives.7
Technocratic Risk Management
This supranational constitutional order, especially in the post-Cold War period, depoliticized contentious political struggles and secured liberal progressive victories through an emotional grammar of human rights backed by an expanding constitutional settlement that spread across the post-Soviet sphere of influence. The EU positioned itself as a moral entity and became what Ian Manners describes as a post-national normative power. Unlike traditional powers that might leverage military or economic influence, the EU emphasizes a form of ‘civilian power’, deploying these values as a core part of its international identity and soft power.8
Expanding across the post-Soviet sphere of influence, post-nationalism encouraged Eastern European countries to reform institutions, ensuring alignment with this increasingly confident ‘normative’ Europe. In this context, long-standing European values of sovereignty, democracy, and the social contract between nationally elected representatives and their domestic public have been reframed as ethical transgressions when challenging this technocratic governance and post-national moral order. The EU disguises power as an ethical imperative by linking membership and partnerships to adherence to this expansive moral order, sidelining democratic contestation in favour of a supranational, progressive orthodoxy. This removes political debate from the democratic sphere, recasting challenges as violations of self-evident ‘European values’ and shifting politics from public consent to the insulated governance of a technocratic elite.
Accelerating these trends was an army of academics, NGOs, and one-step-removed forms of quasi-autonomous non-governmental agencies staffed by a cadre with the education and credentials to navigate this borderless, post-national world. These elites, empowered by geographic and ethical mobility, could take advantage of the opportunities this borderless globalism offers—whether by escaping the pressures or low-wage effects of mass migration, capitalizing on the decline of industrial sectors for a multinational capital service economy, or assuming domestic public sector sinecures. In contrast, though once integral to the nation state, traditional working-class communities were left behind in this brave new world; unable to access the cultural and educational systems that serve as the conveyor belts to PMC status, they were instead increasingly seen as dangerously backward and a challenge to this new order.9
Patrick Deneen argues that the rise of globalized liberal norms enables the PMC to promote what he describes as a ‘narcissistic’ form of individualism cloaked in benevolent language.10 Ordinary people, as they appear to the PMC, the ‘makers of educated opinion’ argues Christopher Lasch, are ‘hopelessly shabby, unfashionable, and provincial, ill-informed about changes in taste or intellectual trends…They are at once absurd and vaguely menacing—not because they wish to overthrow the old order but precisely because their defence of it’.11 Michael Lind extends this and argues that education is the crucial fault line in a class-based culture war between an educated and often over-credentialed PMC overclass and the left-behind underclass.12
As such, largely working-class protests against globalization’s cultural and political hegemony or resistance to this technocratic regime are denounced as ‘populism’. ‘On both sides of the Atlantic, national elites have promoted the technocratic neoliberal vision of a glorious globalized future of dissolving borders, free migration of goods and people and ever-growing demographic diversity—combined, it was assumed, with monolithically liberal values and opinions’, argues Lind.13 In the words of John Gray, populism ‘is a term liberals use to describe the political blowback against the social disruption that their policies have created’.14
Moralizing Politics and the Need for an ‘Outgroup’: The Case of Hungary
Any moral order needs an ‘enemy’ to solidify and cohere its political legitimacy. In the case of the technocratic regime outlined above, this outgroup becomes essential to both the coherence of ingroup values and its consolidation of authority. This appeal to universal values, such as human rights, social equality, and inclusivity gives PMC technocrats moral directionality but also the imprimatur necessary to leverage regulatory and institutional power.15
In the context of the EU and its normative technocratic moral order, what are cast as outdated notions of sovereignty, patriotism, or community—traits seen as antithetical to the cosmopolitan, borderless vision espoused by the PMC—is a direct affront to the legitimacy of the technocratic regime. The act of identifying and punishing those that transgress this order serves a twofold purpose: it is a demonstration effect against heretical states or communities, ideally ones considered to be weak and thus easier targets, whilst cohering legitimacy for the moral mission of the PMC.16
Importantly, by framing opposition as an existential threat, policy and value disagreements are no longer seen as legitimate pluralistic differences but as betrayals of a supposedly universal moral order. Critics of the PMC’s vision are thus cast not merely as opponents but as morally suspect, often labelled ‘deplorables’, ‘semi-fascists’, or, most recently, ‘garbage’ by former US President Biden.17 This language delegitimizes dissent, implying that these individuals or states hinder historical progress rather than representing distinct histories, agencies, and perspectives. Ironically, the pursuit of inclusivity becomes an exercise in radical exclusion.
Carl Schmitt’s Friend/Enemy Distinction: The Case of Hungary
The ‘enemy’ role within this technocratic regime can be understood through Carl Schmitt’s conceptual distinction between friend and enemy. For Schmitt, the political sphere is defined not by consensus but by the delineation of friends and enemies, where a collective identity is forged against a shared adversary.18 The PMC adopts this approach by positioning states like Hungary as emblematic enemies of European values, making them convenient scapegoats to reinforce the supremacy of its moral framework. Under Viktor Orbán, Hungary represents the ideal outgroup in this schema. Its stance on migration, national sovereignty, and cultural traditionalism contrasts starkly with the PMC’s vision of a cosmopolitan, progressive Europe. By casting Hungary as morally deficient or dangerous, the EU’s technocratic structures assert their role as protectors of European unity and human rights.
In Giorgio Agamben’s influential work State of Exception (2005), he builds on Carl Schmitt’s friend/enemy distinction by examining how modern governance increasingly relies on extraordinary measures that circumvent routine democratic procedures in the name of protecting security, stability, or values. Agamben argues that states and supranational entities often declare specific individuals or groups as threats to a perceived collective good, justifying the suspension of democratic norms and rights. In this ‘state of exception’, legal protections and sovereign rights can be overridden to maintain order and enforce a particular moral vision.19
‘By framing Hungary’s policies on judicial reform, freedom of the press, and migration as existential threats to European unity, the EU effectively positions Hungary within a “state of exception”’
The EU’s invocation of Article 7 proceedings against Hungary illustrates how dissenting member states are treated as moral and political outliers, justifying exceptional measures. Article 7, often called the ‘nuclear option’, allows for the suspension of certain membership rights, including voting. By framing Hungary’s policies on judicial reform, freedom of the press, and migration as existential threats to European unity, the EU effectively positions Hungary within a ‘state of exception’. This approach underscores Agamben’s argument that supranational entities use moral imperatives to suspend democratic norms and impose technocratic governance. For instance, Hungary’s defence of its migration policies, rooted in sovereign prerogatives, was framed as violating European values, enabling the EU to bypass traditional dialogue mechanisms and resort to punitive scrutiny. This framework is highly relevant to understanding how the European Union frames Hungary as a moral outlier within the Union, positioning it as an ‘exception’ that necessitates supranational intervention and control.
Virtue Signalling or Selective Outrage?
Crucially, to assess whether the EU’s commitment to human rights, freedom of the press, and liberal norms is genuinely value-driven, one must examine its consistency in applying these standards across all member states, regardless of political power or strategic alignment. An empirical test of the EU’s dedication to these principles lies in whether it enforces them uniformly with smaller, politically contentious members like Hungary and more powerful Western European states. Let us now turn to these questions.
Media Freedom
Regarding freedom of the press, in 2015, France’s highest constitutional authority approved a surveillance bill granting extensive powers to intelligence agencies, allowing phone tapping, email interception, and computer hacking without judicial approval. It also compels internet and telecom providers to install ‘black boxes’ and share data upon request. The United Nations and rights groups, such as Amnesty International, condemned the law as overly broad and intrusive, warning that it infringes on privacy and democratic freedoms. The UN Human Rights Committee noted that the powers granted were ‘excessively broad’ and lacked adequate oversight, potentially leading to state abuses.
Critics argue that by bypassing judicial oversight, the French government undermines civil liberties and risks setting a precedent for mass surveillance within Europe. Since the passage of the law, France has also seen mass protests and severe police repression, most notably during the Gilets jaunes (yellow vests) protests. Protesters and journalists alike were subjected to heavy-handed tactics, including the use of rubber bullets, tear gas, and stun grenades, leading to severe injuries such as permanent eye damage and other disabilities. A notable incident in early 2020 involved Cedric Chouviat, who died during a police stop due to asphyxiation, sparking widespread protests. This incident, combined with militarized policing and reports of racial profiling during identity checks, has raised concerns about excessive force by law enforcement.
In its 2024 report, the Civil Liberties Union of Europe identified several areas of significant concern for media independence across the EU, especially regarding government influence, ownership concentration, and threats to journalists. High media ownership concentration restricts pluralism in Croatia, France, the Netherlands, Poland, Slovakia, and Slovenia. A handful of individuals or groups control much of the media landscape, leading to potential bias and reduced media diversity. Public Service Media in several countries, including Croatia, Italy, and Poland, struggle under government control or political influence.
The report also identifies journalists’ safety as a pressing issue, with Croatia, France, Germany, Greece, and Italy reporting physical attacks, threats, and intimidation. Politicians in Slovakia have directly targeted journalists with abuse. At the same time, the widespread use of SLAPPs (strategic lawsuits against public participation) in Croatia, Greece, Italy, the Netherlands, and Sweden drains journalists’ resources and creates a chilling effect on the freedom of the press. Surveillance of journalists through spyware, notably in Germany, Greece, the Netherlands, and Poland, has also exacerbated privacy violations. In Romania and Sweden, police responses to attacks on journalists have been insufficient, while in Bulgaria and France, police were implicated in these attacks.20
Similarly, the EU’s Digital Services Act (DSA) and Digital Markets Act introduce a regulatory framework that poses significant risks to freedom of expression by targeting ‘systemic risks’ such as disinformation and harmful content. These regulations are designed to compel social media platforms to mitigate such risks. Still, the vague language used in the DSA—like ‘harmful content’ and ‘disinformation’—gives platforms broad discretion to decide what content is removed or demoted. This has led to concerns about over-removal and the suppression of legitimate, lawful content that might be deemed undesirable under these expansive terms. Articles 26 and 27 of the DSA require platforms to assess and mitigate such risks, such as risk overreach, by allowing decisions about content removal to be driven by ill-defined notions of ‘risk’, effectively creating a chilling effect on free speech.21
Moreover, the DSA allows for orders issued by administrative authorities, not just judicial bodies, which can lead to a concentration of power in entities that need more independence to protect human rights.22 The regulation enables state authorities to instruct platforms to remove problematic content, often without adequate judicial oversight. Such orders have significant extraterritorial implications, as they can be applied beyond national borders, potentially conflicting with international standards for freedom of expression.23
Mass Migration
These double standards are also evident in the EU’s response to border control. For example, citing security concerns, Germany recently reinstated temporary border controls with neighbouring countries, including Poland, Austria, and France. This move follows a series of incidents linked to migration, yet it has drawn criticism from Polish officials who view it as politically driven and contrary to the Schengen principles of free movement.24
The EU’s ‘New Pact on Migration and Asylum’ is intended to introduce stricter controls, increased detention, and fast-tracked asylum-seek procedures. This reflects a move towards a more security-focused approach to managing migration. Measures include introducing fast-tracked asylum procedures to speed up the assessment of migrants from countries with low recognition rates, such as Morocco, Pakistan, and India. These individuals will be subject to a border procedure lasting up to twelve weeks, during which they are kept in detention facilities without entering national territory. This policy effectively limits the movement of migrants and keeps them isolated at borders.25
Similarly, the crisis regulation included in the pact introduces measures that permit extended detention periods during times of significant migratory pressure, such as during the 2015–2016 crisis. These rules allow harsher responses when the EU’s asylum system is threatened, including longer detention times and restricted rights for asylum seekers. Overall, the pact demonstrates a pronounced shift towards a more security-oriented and deterrence-based migration policy, focusing on strict controls and limiting pathways for asylum.
Energy Security and Russia
Relative to other EU states, Hungary also ranks among the most dependent on Russian energy, particularly for natural gas, oil, and nuclear fuel. Before the Ukraine conflict, over 90 per cent of its natural gas and oil imports came from Russia. Additionally, 100 per cent of the nuclear fuel for Hungary’s Paks Nuclear Power Plant is sourced from Russia.
Other heavily dependent EU countries—Slovakia, the Czech Republic, and Bulgaria—also rely significantly on Russian energy. However, Hungary’s geographic constraints make it uniquely vulnerable to energy diversification compared to other EU states. As a landlocked country, Hungary lacks direct access to seaports, relying entirely on overland pipelines and interconnectors to secure energy supplies, which increases costs and exposes it to transit disruptions. Unlike coastal states with LNG terminals, Hungary cannot independently import liquefied natural gas and must depend on neighbouring countries like Croatia or Poland, limiting its flexibility. Additionally, Hungary’s reliance on nuclear energy, with 100 per cent of fuel for the Paks Nuclear Power Plant sourced from Russia, further entrenches its dependence on Russian imports. These vulnerabilities are rooted in geography, not policy choices, as Hungary’s proximity to Russia historically tied its energy infrastructure to Russian supplies. Transitioning away from this dependence requires significant investments and time, especially given Hungary’s lack of renewable resources, such as offshore wind or sizable hydroelectric potential.
‘The defence of democracy, human rights, and sovereignty cannot be contingent on political expediency or the geopolitical convenience of targeting smaller or less powerful states’
Landlocked Hungary has faced criticism for this delicate balancing act with Russia following the Ukraine crisis. However, despite sanctions, the EU is seeing significant volumes of Russian- origin energy products re-entering the market through intermediaries like Türkiye and India. India, which has become the top buyer of Russian crude, refines Russian oil and then exports it to the EU as gasoline, diesel, and other products. In 2023, EU imports of refined products from India surged by 115 per cent.26 Similarly, Türkiye has become a strategic hub for Russian energy products. Ports like Ceyhan have seen sharp increases in Russian fuel imports, which are then re-exported to EU countries and often relabelled. Data suggests that between 2023 and 2024, Türkiye’s imports of Russian fuel increased by over 100 per cent, matched closely by a similar rise in exports to the EU.27
‘Nobody says oil products refined in Türkiye or India from Russian crude cannot enter Europe. Nobody protests, and their role keeps growing’, argued György Bacsa, chief operating officer of MOL Group, Hungary’s international, integrated gas and oil company. Perhaps rubbing salt into this wound is that in 2010, Budapest helped MOL buy out Russian owners, with Prime Minister Orbán overseeing a 21.2 per cent stake in MOL from Russia’s Surgutneftegaz for €1.9 billion. This company has had close ties with the Kremlin. Bacsa notes that Hungary defended its interests ‘against hostile Russian takeover attempt at a time when the rest of Europe stood in line for Russian investments’.28 What can we conclude from the above?
Conclusion
The EU’s supranational governance, particularly in the post-Cold War era, has shifted from a project of economic cooperation and peacebuilding to a technocratic regime that increasingly undermines national sovereignty and democratic accountability. Under the guise of progressive, post-national ideals, the EU’s selective enforcement of values reveals a deeper strategy: consolidating its central authority by marginalizing dissenting states like Hungary. By framing Hungary’s nationalist and sovereigntist policies as existential threats to European unity, the EU creates a ‘state of exception’, as Agamben describes, where procedural norms and principles of equal treatment are suspended to justify targeted interventions.
This selective application of values erodes the EU’s moral authority and threatens the foundational ideals it claims to uphold. The defence of democracy, human rights, and sovereignty cannot be contingent on political expediency or the geopolitical convenience of targeting smaller or less powerful states. A genuinely united Europe must demonstrate a consistent and impartial commitment to its principles, respecting the agency of all member states. Failure to do so risks entrenching a technocratic hierarchy that privileges ideological conformity over genuine pluralism, undermining the social contract between nations and their citizens.
NOTES
1 James Burnham, The Managerial Revolution (Free Press, 1941).
2 Patrick J. Deneen, ‘Replace the Elite’, First Things (1 March 2020), www.firstthings.com/article/2020/03/replace-the-elite; see Samuel T. Francis, Power and History: The Political Thought of James Burnham (University Press of America, 1984). On the PMCs see John Ehrenreich, and Barbara Ehrenreich, Between Labor and Capital (South End Press, 1979).
3 Christopher J. Bickerton, Dermot Hodson, and Uwe Puetter, The New Intergovernmentalism: States and Supranational Actors in the Post-Maastricht Era (Oxford University Press, 2015).
4 Jonathan Hopkin, and Mark Blyth, The Global Economics of European Populism: Growth Regimes and Party System Change in Europe, Government and Opposition, 54/2, (Cambridge University Press, 2019), 193–225.
5 Paul Gottfried, After Liberalism (Princeton University Press, 1993); Angelo Codevilla, The Ruling Class: How They Corrupted America and What We Can Do about It (Beaufort Books, 2010).
6 Roger Scruton, The Future of European Civilization: Lessons for America, Heritage Foundation Report, 15 (December 2015).
7 Joseph E. Stiglitz, The Euro: How a Common Currency Threatens the Future of Europe (W. W. Norton & Company, 2016).
8 Ian Manners, ‘Normative Power Europe: A Contradiction in Terms?’, Journal of Common Market Studies (2002), 40/2, 235–258.
9 Catherine Liu, Virtue Hoarders: The Case against the Professional Managerial Class (University of Minnesota Press, 2021); see also ‘Virtue Hoarders: Our Scolding Elites’, Spiked Online, www.spiked-online.com/2021/01/21/virtue-hoarders-our-scolding-elites/; David Goodhart, The Road to Somewhere: The New Tribes Shaping British Politics (Penguin, 2017).
10 Deneen, Why Liberalism Failed (Yale University Press, 2019), 132.
11 Christopher Lasch, The Revolt of the Elites and the Betrayal of Democracy (W. W. Norton & Company, 1996), 29.
12 Michael Lind, The New Class War: Saving Democracy from the Metropolitan Elite (Atlantic Books, 2020); in the UK context see Paul Embery, Despised: Why the Modern Left Loathes the Working Class (John Wiley & Sons, 2020).
13 Michael Lind, ‘Britain’s New Class War’, UnHerd (5 February 2020), https://unherd.com/2020/02/britains-new-class-war/.
14 Andrew Sullivan, ‘Transcript: John Gray on the Dusk of Western Liberalism’, Substack.com (2023), https://andrewsullivan.substack.com/p/transcript- john-gray-on-the-dusk.
15 Deneen, Why Liberalism Failed.
16 Christopher J. Bickerton, and Carlo Invernizzi Accetti, Technopopulism: The New Logic of Democratic Politics (Oxford University Press, 2021).
17 James FitzGerald, ‘Biden Tries to Clarify “Garbage” Comment after Uproar’, BBC News (30 October 2024), www.bbc.com/news/articles/cdd09e4nl30o; see also: Matthew Goodwin, Values, Voice and Virtue: The New British Politics (Penguin Books, 2023).
18 Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political (Trans. G. Schwab, University of Chicago Press, 2007).
19 Giorgio Agamben, State of Exception (Trans. K. Attell, University of Chicago Press, 2005); see also Jan Zielonka, Counter-Revolution: Liberal Europe in Retreat (Oxford University Press, 2018).
20 ‘Civil Liberties’ Media Freedom Report 2024: Freedom of the Press Reaching Breaking Point’, Liberties.eu, www.liberties.eu/en/stories/media-freedom-report-2024-blog/45029, accessed 20 January 2025.
21 Martin Husovec, ‘The Digital Services Act’s red line: what the Commission can and cannot do about disinformation’, Journal of Media Law, 7 July 2024, 16(1), 47–56. https://doi.org/10.1080/17577632.2024.2362483.
22 Javier Espinoza, ‘EU to Impose Election Safeguards on Big Tech’, Financial Times (20 March 2024), www.ft.com/content/66a6790d-3ca1-4469-b012-7d392e6cfb67.
23 DSA Observatory—a Hub of Expertise on the DSA Package (2021). The Digital Services Act and Its Impact on the Right to Freedom of Expression: Special Focus on Risk Mitigation Obligations—DSA Observatory, https://dsa-observatory.eu/2021/07/27/the-digital-services-act-and-its-impact-on-the-right-to-freedom-of-expression-special-focus-on-risk-mitigation-obligations/.
24 Claudia Ciobanu, and Nicholas Watson, ‘Polish PM Slams Germany’s New Border Controls as “Unacceptable”’, Balkan Insight (11 September 2024), https://balkaninsight.com/2024/09/11/polish-pm-slams-germanys-new-border-controls-as-unacceptable/.
25 Jorge Liboreiro, ‘“Historic day”: EU Strikes Major Deal to Reform Migration Policy’, euronews (20 December 2023), www.euronews.com/my-europe/2023/12/20/eu-strikes-major-deal-to-reform-migration-policy-after-three-years-of-bitter-debates.
26 Shweta Sharma, ‘Europe Buying Russian Oil via India at Record Rates in 2023 despite Ukraine War’, The Independent (12 January 2024), www.independent.co.uk/news/world/europe/russia-oil-europe-india-ukraine-war-b2477443.html.
27 Victor Jack, (2024). ‘How Turkey Became Putin’s “Pit Stop” for Selling Camouflaged Fuel to the EU’, Politico (15 May 2024), www.politico.eu/article/how-turkey-become-vladimir-putin-pit-stop-sell-camouflage-fuel-eu/.
28 Marton Dunai, ‘Hungary’s Largest Oil Group Attacks Western “Hypocrisy” over Russian Energy’, Financial Times (26 October 2024), www.ft.com/content/1515df8f-1ef6-4e4f-9c1c-78d5e1a13725.
