Offices of staff in the Patriots for Europe (PfE) group were raided in France and Belgium on Wednesday (21 October).

The European Public Prosecutor’s Office (EPPO) told EUobserver that searches were carried out “as part of an ongoing investigation into the use of European funds by a former political group in the European Parliament”.

But the law enforcement body said it would not release details of the investigation for now, to avoid jeopardising the integrity of the case.

The far-right PfE group in the European Parliament, led by Jordan Bardella of the French National Rally (RN) party, posted a statement on social media claiming that on Wednesday morning, the EPPO carried out searches in administrative offices at the European Parliament premises in Brussels and Strasbourg.

“It would appear that these searches are linked to the complaint lodged against the Identity and Democracy Group (ID) dissolved in 2024,” said PfE’s X post.

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Ten years ago, ‘Project Fear’ was at the heart of the ‘Remain’ campaign’s inept efforts to persuade Britons not to vote to leave the EU. 

Voting for Brexit, according to David Cameron’s government Doomsday forecasts, would cost every household £4,300 (€5,000) per year from 2030, lead to an immediate recession and mean lower house prices. 

It was a huge mistake. That all the pro-EU camp could say about being members of the club was that it would be very expensive to leave was a jarring admission of failure. And the promised economic apocalypse of instant recession and house price warnings didn’t happen. Most people simply didn’t believe the figures or that the politicians behind them were being honest about them. The result, as we know, is that more than 17m Brits gave the ‘establishment’ – or what they perceived it to be – a big kick up the arse. 

Fast forward to 2026 and newly-minted UK prime minister Andy Burnham has put all options for UK-EU relations – including rejoining – back on the table. 

The UK Treasury, which drew up the prophecies of doom, is now expected to publish a study analysing the potential economic benefits of Britain moving closer to the EU ahead of November’s EU-UK summit.

Personally, I think Brexit and the piecemeal trade and cooperation agreement that governs EU-UK trade has resulted in a small but significant economic hit.

The hope is that the treasury won’t promise milk, honey and gold-paved streets if the UK rejoins the EU or its single market.  

If over-promising increases the speed at which voters get disappointed with governments, the Brexit vote is proof that trying to frighten people is the fastest way to lose an election.  

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The EU is pressing allies, such as the UK, Canada, Japan, South Korea, Australia, and Norway, to help close a €70bn shortfall in Ukraine’s funding for next year, after president Volodymyr Zelensky warned that the war will cost €155bn in 2027.

EU Council president António Costa told MEPs in Strasbourg on Wednesday (21 October) that member states already provided 80 percent of external aid to Ukraine and “international partners must also step up their efforts”. 

“Our commitment to peace must go hand in hand with sustained pressure on the aggressor,” he also said, after meeting Zelensky at an EU summit in Brussels last week.

European Commission president Ursula von der Leyen also told MEPs on Wednesday: “The war will not be decided on the frontline; the war will be decided in our political will, in whether we stand up for freedom and democracy and support our Ukrainian friends.” 

Zelensky’s €155bn figure refers to Ukraine’s total war-related spending in 2027, part of which Kyiv covers from its own budget.

But that still left a €70bn gap that Ukraine needed foreign partners to fill, as next year approached.

The EU has already agreed a €90bn loan covering 2026 and 2027, meant to meet two-thirds of Ukraine’s financing needs over that period.

The remaining third was supposed to come from other partners, but so far that money has been secured only for 2026, not for 2027.

Costa told MEPs on Wednesday that €16bn had been disbursed this year under the defence line of the loan, while another €17bn could be sent to Ukraine if anti-corruption reforms were implemented.

“Our determination to support Ukraine and its people is stronger than ever,” he said.

EU hopes for Ukraine cash from allies

Meanwhile, EU commissioner Maroš Šefčovič also indicated on Monday that Britain will be asked to increase funding to Ukraine, speaking ahead of an EU-UK summit on 20 November.

“Following the signature of a contribution agreement on 13 July 2026, the UK can now participate under the EU’s €90bn Ukraine support loan,” he said.

Both the EU and UK would support Ukraine “as long as it takes to bring Russia’s illegal war of aggression to an end”, Šefčovič added.

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• Battle for Dobropillia — huge Russian losses and the brutal destruction of the city.
• A possible explanation for inaccuracies in Russian maps — they are lying to improve their position in ceasefire negotiations.
• The Wall Street Journal said Elon Musk came up with the idea of cutting off Ukraine’s military Starlink.
• How the Starshield restriction has affected the front line.
• Maps of the day — a Russian death field between Rodynske and Dobropillia, plus an overall view of the front.
• Videos of the day — the funeral of five children killed by Russian bombing; a driver in Kyiv burned alive after a drone strike; war criminal and liar Sergei Lavrov speaks about the bombing of Ukraine; a cat alerted an operator to approaching Russians; an interceptor drone shot down a Geran.

The battle for Dobropillia in images and maps — huge Russian losses and the brutal destruction of the city. The heaviest fighting is currently taking place on this section of the front. Following its defeat in the north near Lyman, the Russian command is now trying here, in the south, to bypass the Sloviansk-Kramatorsk agglomeration, since a direct attack from the east has also failed.

The Kremlin has currently deployed its largest forces to the area north-east of Pokrovsk, where it is trying to break through Ukrainian defences.

Described this way, it sounds highly technical. People can detach emotionally from information written in this manner and follow events merely as arrows on maps.

In reality, however, the arrows conceal tragedies that are very difficult to imagine. This week, visual evidence emerged that may better convey the scale of human suffering and losses on both sides.

The first shows the city of Dobropillia itself from the air after Russian bombardment that is slowly consuming it.

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As protests continue to ripple across European cities, the Italian Green MEP Benedetta Scuderi reflects on her own experiences of police repression, from holding a peace flag near a Brussels protest to facing the fury that followed the flotilla to Gaza. She spoke to EUobserver about the EU’s housing priorities, Italy’s elections, and how the far-right has captured freedom of expression for its own use.

You were detained by police in July, a few hundred meters from a far-right protest calling for “re-migration”. How has the rise of the far-right stalled some key areas, like freedom of speech?

The rise of the far-right is really threatening European democracy as we know it. It has never been perfect, but it allowed people to protest. Now, we only let certain people express their dissent. 

In the European Parliament, people can discriminate and use hate speech because of their freedom of expression, but as you go out of parliament with a Palestinian flag, then you’re a terrorist. So, how is it possible that last Strasbourg plenary, I could hear my colleagues saying that Muslims are a threat, and there are no consequences? And then I go out and I say, “Free Palestine,” and I’ll be arrested.

This double standard is extremely problematic. The fact that not allowing fascist symbols within the parliament also meaning that no other symbol can be shown, is not okay. Because we need to be fine to say that certain things are discriminatory and against European values, without having to say that everything else is not allowed. 

We also need to be able to accept dissent. What is happening all over Europe, with violence increasing towards activists, we’re seeing it target only a certain kind of activists. In Italy, fascist protests are ignored by police. Farmers can come to the parliament with tractors, and that’s completely fine. And then we have 20 people doing a sit-in for Palestine in front of the parliament, and getting their heads smashed. 

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Student protests across Europe are a desperate cry for help, an appeal to governments to build a brighter, hope-filled future. Instead of paying attention, European politicians have decided to manhandle the protesters, misrepresent their demands and manipulate public opinion.

Different narratives are now competing to explain what the protests are really about.

They want to be taught properly. They want more teachers, an end to overcrowded classes, dilapidated buildings and inadequate school meals and an admissions system that sorts young people by class and postcode.

In Belgium, students have protested education cuts and fees. Greek students occupied Syntagma Square over rents, student housing and energy bills. Italian students demanded money for schools rather than war.

But politicians seem intent on telling a different story.

For many EU leaders it is – yet again – all about migration.

Hungarian prime minister Péter Magyar has decided that the chaos in French cities makes it “clear to everyone why Hungary advocates the strictest possible approach to migration.”

Poland’s Donald Tusk, who insists he will not repeat the mistakes of other European countries, joined the leaders of Denmark and Italy at the EU leaders’ meeting in Brussels last week to push for an even tougher Fortress Europe.

Together, they almost succeeded in getting others in the EU to agree to a statement linking crime and “irregular” migration.

On the other side of the Atlantic, US president Donald Trump instructed Europe to “close your borders and take control, before it is too late!” while his deputy JD Vance criticised Western liberals for bringing the “third world” to France.

Parts of the media focused on the violence, particularly the looting and destruction carried out by those who have joined the protests to create chaos, rather than on the demands that brought students onto the streets in the first place.

In France, meanwhile, it was the presidential campaign that shaped the political response, with Marine Le Pen from the National Rally calling for law and order and blaming “decades of immigration” for the violence while her protégé, Jordan Bardella, said the police should have more weapons and greater powers.

Jean-Luc Mélenchon of France Insoumise, Le Pen’s leading rival in the elections next year, was accused of fuelling student anger. French centrists struggled to find their footing and their voice. President Emmanuel Macron made an angry television appearance before heading to the Middle East with a delegation of business leaders.

So far, very predictable.

Old playbook: one enemy, no solution

Divert, distract, dehumanise and scapegoat are the oldest tricks in wily politicians’ playbook. The well-worn recipe is simple: take a social crisis, remove its economic content, replace it with a face, a religion, a border. Then offer an enemy, not a solution.

When public services fail, blame the outsider. When wages stagnate, blame the foreigner. When housing becomes impossible, blame the newcomer rather than the landlord, the investor or the government that stopped building.

And when young people take to the streets, describe them as manipulated, criminal, alien or dangerous. Treat their anger as a threat to public order rather than a warning that something is profoundly wrong. Say there has been foreign manipulation and disinformation.

Then turn the full force of the state against the symptoms of the crisis while leaving its causes untouched and change the the subject from justice to fear, from schools to borders, from the future to the past.

Meanwhile, the money goes elsewhere.

Europe is pouring resources into defence and rearmament. Governments speak endlessly of competitiveness, productivity and strategic autonomy. But these questions cannot become excuses for neglecting the social foundations on which Europe’s future depends.

Seriously, who is going to make an ageing Europe competitive if the people expected to build its future cannot afford to have one? Who will run Europe’s basic services if migrants go “home”? What does strategic autonomy even mean if young Europeans cannot get a decent education, find secure employment or afford a home?

Contradictions

We should know by now that security cannot be measured in weapons alone. It also depends on how secure citizens feel, and whether they believe they have something worth protecting. Security demands that people have politicians they can trust and institutions which work for them.

A Europe that invests in its military capabilities while allowing its schools, housing systems and public services to deteriorate risks hollowing out its own strength.

Believe me: I know. I was born in Pakistan, a country which thrives on war and conflict and neglects the well being of its citizens.

There is another contradiction. As young people struggle to make their voices heard, the EU is planning cuts to funding for civil society organisations that defend rights, support communities, hold power to account and help turn public anger into democratic participation.

The EU has always – rightly – backed citizens’ calls for democratic participation, equality and inclusion when it happens in Tunisia, Egypt or Hongkong. How can our leaders close down such calls for participation when they are made at home?

Sadly, politicians and parts of the media have lost young peoples’ trust – and when that faith goes, so does democracy.

The EU can and must offer young Europeans a story of hope, inclusion and progress towards equality. Leaders who prefer to hallucinate about migrants should spend more time living up to the EU’s values by investing in education, affordable housing, decent jobs and public services.

We must give our young people a meaningful voice in decisions that will shape their lives. Our collective future quite literally depends on it.

This article was first published on Shada’s Substack. You can subscribe for free to receive new posts and support her work here.

Over coffee, an Israeli woman I know began to cry. “I’m 42,” she said, “and I’ve spent my entire adult life held captive by Bibi.”

Benjamin Netanyahu has not been Israel’s prime minister for every one of those years. Yet even out of office, Israeli politics rarely escaped his gravitational pull.

For him or against him, public life kept arranging itself around his presence.

Netanyahu is Israel’s longest-serving prime minister, having previously held office from 1996 to 1999 and from 2009 to 2021, and from 2022 onward.

Hungarians know something about that feeling. For 16 years, Viktor Orbán was not merely Hungary’s prime minister but the organising fact of Hungarian politics. Institutions bent around him, opponents defined themselves against him, and arguments somehow ended up being about him.

On 12 April, that era ended.

Péter Magyar’s insurgent Tisza party defeated Fidesz after 16 uninterrupted years in power. The final results gave Tisza 141 of parliament’s 199 seats, a two-thirds majority.

The temptation is to tell a simple story of liberation: the dominant leader fell, the spell broke, democracy returned. But political systems leave habits behind, and Orbán’s most durable legacy may prove to be the way Hungarians learned to imagine politics itself.

That is also Magyar’s dilemma.

Opposition movements confronting personalised systems often conclude that they, too, need a protagonist capable of gathering diffuse grievances into a political force.

Yet the qualities that help an insurgency win are not necessarily those needed to build a pluralist order afterwards. Campaigns reward concentration, and democracy depends on dispersing authority.

A challenger may have to become indispensable in order to win. Governing democratically requires eventually proving that he is not.

For people my age, Orbán’s rise was a rupture because we remember other governments and possibilities. Many of my students, now in their 20s, do not. Their political adulthood unfolded almost entirely under Fidesz. Orbán was simply there, as unavoidable as the weather.

Power can come to look distant and durable, participation noble but futile, and institutions captured or irrelevant. Politics becomes something done to you rather than something you do.

Conversations with Orbán

I know how deeply that can lodge itself in the mind. For five years, I have had countless conversations with Orbán in which I argued with him and tried to persuade him to change course. All of them took place in my dreams.

Supporters and opponents experienced Orbán’s system differently, but both learned to orient themselves around the same centre of gravity. Loyalists read its signals, while critics watched it constantly and defined themselves against it.

Parties that spend years confronting a dominant machine tend to centralise themselves. Message discipline becomes existential, disagreement can look like sabotage, and restraint like something to discuss after victory.

That is why Hungary’s challenge is larger than reversing Orbán’s policies.

A government elected to repair democratic institutions has to accept restraints precisely when it can most easily avoid them: strengthening parliament even when it dominates it, protecting independent media when they attack the government, and creating institutions whose authority does not depend on proximity to the prime minister.

Older Hungarians understandably speak about restoration: rebuilding institutions, restoring judicial independence, returning to democratic normality.

But “return” means something different when you are 25. You cannot return to a political world you never inhabited. For younger Hungarians, democracy cannot merely be recovered; it has to become real for the first time.

That distinction matters beyond Hungary. Opponents of personalised populism often offer restoration as their programme.

Yet generations raised amid democratic erosion may have little memory of the normality they are being asked to recover. Democratic politics has to show that dispersed power need not mean ineffective government, that disagreement need not threaten the state, and that losing an election need not mean losing the country.

Success should also mean making politics less consuming. Most democratic life is not election night but local meetings, newspapers and arguments about schools, budgets and public space.

A healthy political order allows citizens to pay less attention to the leader because fewer things depend on what that leader wants. Personalised rule teaches the opposite lesson. Even resistance can become dependence.

This is where Hungary’s experience returns me to my conversation about Israel.

Israelis are due to vote on 27 October in an election in which Netanyahu once again occupies much of the political landscape.

Whatever voters decide, Hungary suggests a question that will remain whenever his long political era eventually ends: can political life be reorganised around institutions and competing interests rather than around the presence, or absence, of one man?

Removing a dominant political figure does not remove the habits formed around him. Supporters have to imagine their politics without the leader they regarded as indispensable, while opponents have to decide what they stand for when opposition to him is no longer enough to bind them together.

Hungary’s experience suggests that this is where democratic renewal really begins – not with replacing one dominant figure with another, but with building institutions and political movements that no longer require one.

My friend’s tears were for the time she felt had been taken from her. Hungary’s younger generation, now free of Orbán, cannot mourn in quite the same way, because many have no memory of political adulthood against which to measure what was lost.

Their challenge, now, is not to recover an old normal but to create something they have never experienced: a public life in which politics belongs to citizens without consuming them, and in which no leader becomes so indispensable that an entire country must organise itself around him.