Member of the European Parliament Andrius Kubilius believes that a fourth global wave of democratization is coming — and that it will eventually include Russia. This is possible if Russia stops nostalgizing about imperial greatness, and if Europe, particularly the EU, understands that lasting peace on the continent will only become a reality if Russia gradually moves toward democracy with the EU’s involvement. In an interview with T-invariant, the former physicist and former Prime Minister of Lithuania explained how this outcome can be achieved, using examples such as Lithuania’s Sąjūdis movement, the Polish journal Kultura, which was published in Paris, and global science.

Sergei Erofeev: It’s well known that you began your career as a physicist and later became a politician. After the collapse of the Soviet Union, many scientists went into business or politics, though the outcomes of such transitions have varied widely. What can you say about how a person’s sense of social responsibility evolves when they start in science and later engage with large-scale societal transformation?

Andrius Kubilius: Yes, I spent ten years studying physics at the university from which I graduated. Our department, by today’s standards, was not gender-balanced. There were lots of young guys. Maybe because of that — or maybe for some other reason — the department was known through the university as particularly well-organized. Every year we organized a big festival called Physicist’s Day. It was so popular that young people came from all over Vilnius just to meet new girls there and “steal” one, from the philology department.

Then the revolution happened, and the Sąjūdis movement emerged. The experience we had had from organizing events like our physicists’ festival turned out to be really useful for that. Later, the same kind of non-governmental organizational strength proved helpful for election campaigns as well. We physicists started with organizing rallies and providing sound at events, and before long, we found ourselves at the center of all the historic changes.

The revolution, as they say, swept us up. When, at the very start, new ideological parties were being formed — conservatives, liberals, social democrats — we used to joke that we could start a physicists’ party, and that explanation was enough for people to understand.

By the way, I’m not the only physicist who became a prime minister — Angela Merkel did too. We once discussed our respective research areas, which were different: she worked more with nuclear physics, while I dealt with various types of semiconductors.

I often think about what physics gave me and how it influenced what I do today — namely, politics. And I come to a very simple conclusion: physicists have a particular way of thinking — trying to understand the causes of phenomena. You conduct a physics experiment, and if it doesn’t go the way you planned, you want to figure out why things turned out differently. You have certain assumptions about causes and expected results.

I always remember a fairly popular Soviet book titled Physicists Joke. In it, I recall, there was a definition: a physicist is someone who tries to satisfy their curiosity at the government’s expense.

That curiosity, surely, has stayed with us. And it helps! I see how it structures your thinking — when you want to understand social or political phenomena, you start asking: what patterns lie behind these events? What are the causes of what’s happening? I think that’s where the connection between scientific thinking and politics lies. It doesn’t always work — sometimes in politics people prefer more unstructured thinking. That can also be linked to populism.

But when you enter politics with a scientific background, it just doesn’t feel right to talk about things without some reference to evidence-based reasoning.

Background
Andrius Kubilius, former Prime Minister of the Republic of Lithuania, is now one of the most prominent members of the European Parliament. He was the initiator of the recent “Brussels Dialogue” event held under the auspices of the European Parliament, aimed at bringing together a wide range of Russian intellectuals, journalists, politicians, activists, and political analysts to unite their efforts.

Sergei Erofeev: Do you believe that the influence of science on politics and politicians can grow in today’s world?

Andrius Kubilius: First and foremost, I would speak about the role of scientific thinking — something fostered by physics, mathematics, chemistry, or other sciences that help establish clear links between phenomena, causes, and effects. This can influence political thinking. But the actual content of science can also provide many answers to political, sociological, social, and economic questions — and that is often lacking.

Looking at Lithuanian politics and European politics in general, I often feel a deep lack of intellectual foundation for decision-making. Scientific research that could help us understand what is happening in Russia, what is going on in the “new” Europe, or in the “old” Europe is not sufficiently considered. There is little research into the future of traditional democracy — the kind we are used to, but which originated during the Industrial Revolution, that is, in the late 18th and early 19th centuries.

Now we are transitioning from an industrial to a post-industrial era. But what does that mean for democracy, for the traditional political tools and institutions that were established earlier? We don’t have answers to that yet. But at least the questions are beginning to be asked — and that’s a good start.

Sergei Erofeev: Those who study society could still learn a great deal from natural scientists. Today, crucial new processes are underway in our understanding of the physical, chemical, and biological world — yet the social analysis does take advantage of that. It also seems increasingly clear that social scientists lack a pragmatic approach as human emotions too often obscure reality. That’s why, in our project T-Invariant, we’re trying to find ways to help them connect more closely with “physicists” — to adopt new tools and new ways of making sense of reality.

Andrius Kubilius: I see that connection as well — even though I’m a trained physicist. My parents were philologists, both bookish people. And I draw a lot for myself from books about politics and social development. I believe that academic thought has accumulated many answers to the questions about what’s happening, about major political transformations. I’m sometimes surprised that politicians don’t make more use of this academic thinking.

I was lucky to enter real politics in the 1990s as one of the first ones in my part of the world. At that time, our understanding of politics, of how democracy works, was at a very rudimentary level. And I was curious about everything — how the British or U.S. parliaments function, and what scholars around the world were saying about social change.

Back then, I had the chance to read Samuel Huntington’s The Third Wave, and I still quote it often. Everyone knows his book The Clash of Civilizations, but even before that, he wrote a lot — and very insightfully — about young democracies. The Third Wave showed how, during the 20th century, there were three waves of democratization, how those waves washed over new territories like ocean tides. But the waves also receded, and some territories returned to authoritarian regimes. There was such a wave in the 1920s after World War I, then another after World War II, and the “Third Wave” began in the 1980s, peaking in the 1990s before it started to decline. That book even contains predictions that turned out to be spot on for what happened in Lithuania.

That approach also helps me understand a lot about developments in Russia — especially the parallels with Latin America. Huntington wrote that “when a country is flooded with democracy for the first time in its history, democracy tends not to last long.” In Russia, for example, Yeltsin’s democracy — if we can call it that — lasted less than ten years before autocracy gradually brought us to where we are now.

Sergei Erofeev: Can we consider the Yeltsin-era wave the second one, if the first was in 1917?

Andrius Kubilius: I’m not sure. I believe Huntington — and I agree with him — considered that the Yeltsin wave was the first. The year 1917 was too brief. The key point is that he identifies three global waves. As a physicist, when I see the sinusoidal pattern of those waves (he even includes a graph, and there you can clearly see the distance between the wave peaks), I say: “Alright, folks, there have been three waves — which means there will be a fourth.” So, let’s get ready for it. Judging by the previous waves and the distance between their peaks, we’re just about due for the beginning of the fourth wave. And maybe it will start right here — in the eastern stretches of the European continent. That’s where my scientific optimism comes from.

Sergei Erofeev: In your article “The Tragedy of Russia”, you write about the inevitability of this fourth global wave of democratization. Why do you consider it inevitable?

Andrius Kubilius: I hope that the fourth global wave will also reach Russia. But Huntington also points to other social phenomena in countries transitioning from authoritarian regimes to democracy. There’s a nostalgia for the past — by the way, we experienced that in Lithuania as well. We saw how powerfully that nostalgia can manifest itself. In 1992, after Sąjūdis won the elections and Lithuania declared independence, our parliament split into various party factions, and it became impossible to function. We decided to push for new elections. We were absolutely sure that people would be grateful to us for gaining independence and would vote for us again — that we would win a majority and continue working. But people voted against us — and for the former Communist Party.

It wasn’t a catastrophe, but the message was loud and clear. And then later, in 2004 — when Lithuania was already a member of the European Union and NATO — we conducted a public opinion survey before new parliamentary elections. We asked: “Do you think life during the Soviet period was better or worse?” The answer shocked us so much! We decided not to disclose the results because 54% said that life under the USSR was better. You can imagine that in Russia the percentage could be even higher.

But there are scholars in the world who have studied similar sentiments in societies that have lost imperial status, lost their sense of greatness, and so on. This happened with the British Empire, with the French. The same is true of the Russian Empire. People hold on to a deep nostalgia for their former greatness. Over time, that nostalgia fades and becomes less acute, and I believe this is happening in Russia as well. The current war is, without question, post-imperial. It is tragic for Ukraine, but I believe it is also deeply painful for Russian society.

Over time, more and more people in Russia will come to understand what this longing for imperial greatness can lead to. That’s the second reason I believe there will be an opportunity to follow Ukraine’s example — and become a normal state.

Sergei Erofeev: We often hear complaints that Russia had developed science, education, and was considered a highly literate country… And suddenly it turned out that the population is easily manipulated by a certain ruling group. Can those who worked in science and education and remain active help the country move toward healthy development — to understand where history is heading, to understand that Ukraine was right?

Andrius Kubilius: History books about the early 20th century make it very clear that Germany was the most enlightened country before Hitler came to power. In the 19th century and the early 20th, Germany was clearly a world leader. But that didn’t stop Hitler from winning — even through elections! Of course, the level of education and cultural engagement in society is immensely important. But the masses can be mobilized for a variety of reasons. At a certain point, Germany — like the rest of the world — was under the influence of an economic crisis. In such moments, populists who are especially skilled at brainwashing can come to power.

That said, comparing Germany and Russia is not easy. I’m not ready to conclude that Russia as a nation has no future — even considering what the Russians did in Bucha and other places. Yes, it’s a tragedy. A tragedy for Ukraine, and for Russia as well. But that doesn’t mean Russians have no future. The future could be radically different — built on completely different foundations. To give up on positive thoughts about Russia’s future, just as to give up on the importance of science, would be a grave mistake.

Sergei Erofeev: You played a central role in organizing the Brussels Dialogue — the roundtable that for the first time brought together in the European Parliament a diverse group of activists and intellectuals, representatives of Russian civil society in exile. There were many politicians, excellent journalists, human rights defenders, political commentators. But there were very few scientists (perhaps with the exception of economist Sergei Guriev). Should this project, which aims to show the free world that a democratic Russia has a future, involve more Russian scientists scattered across the globe?

Andrius Kubilius: We conceived this project as one with ongoing development. Right now, we’re discussing that alongside major gatherings like the one in early June, we will also hold more specialized conferences and smaller seminars. Of course, one of these upcoming seminars could specifically focus on Russian science, science in the Russian language, and research about Russia. This is important not only for Russians themselves. I always repeat that a democratic Russia is necessary not only for Russia itself but, above all, for the entire European continent and the global democratic community. That’s where our pragmatic interest lies. If we want lasting peace on the European continent, it can only become a reality if Russia transforms into something normal — if it evolves toward democracy.

This presupposes a dialogue between European institutions and intellectuals, and the Russian democratic opposition. That’s why, at this conference, we organized a discussion between two historians — or, let’s say, writers engaged with history — Orlando Figes and Boris Akunin. I read everything Figes publishes.

Sergei Erofeev: Right now, the issue of refugee scholars from Russia is particularly acute. Of course, Russians who emigrated earlier are trying to help them, but professionally, most of these scientists will find it very difficult to establish themselves in the West because, frankly, all the spots are already taken. In your view, how can we both help this new wave of emigration and also benefit from it in terms of the broader task of Russia’s future democratization?

Andrius Kubilius: My first thought is — dedicated scholarships. That’s exactly why a sustained dialogue with European institutions is needed. Here, I recall the story of the Polish emigration after World War II — a phenomenon centered around a unique Polish journal published in Paris from those years right up to the early 1990s. It was a journal called Kultura, edited by Jerzy Giedroyc. It’s very well known in Polish society because Kultura brought together many Polish intellectuals — primarily in the humanities: historians, political analysts — who developed the concept of a future free Poland, including a strategic vision for Poland’s relations with its eastern neighbors.

Naturally, that was a crucial issue for Poland. We know, for instance, that before World War II, parts of Lithuania, Western Ukraine, and parts of Belarus were occupied by Poland. And so, over the course of decades, they explained in their work that Poland must abandon any claims to these territories, that it should build new foundations for its relationships with countries like Lithuania and Ukraine, and that it must support their independence and development. In fact, the participants of the Kultura project aimed to change the mentality of Polish society, including those who remained in Poland. I once published an article suggesting that Lithuania needs its own version of Kultura — an attempt by intellectuals to help society shift its mindset on various issues, whether historical or otherwise.

I believe something similar could also benefit Russia — an effort to grapple with its most critical questions by drawing on the experience of Polish intellectuals who once came together in exile in Paris under the banner of Kultura and ultimately achieved so much for their country’s future.

Sergei Erofeev: But the Poles were in a different situation: they had a government in exile, and there was a strong sense of national unity among Poles abroad. What could help Russian intellectuals and politicians unite? Perhaps greater European support is needed — maybe a neutral platform like the European Parliament — if Russians themselves are unable to create a platform like the Kultura journal?

Andrius Kubilius: You know, this is hard to prescribe. We cannot unite you — what we can do is support your conversations and show examples. But I believe that the Russian community in exile holds enormous potential. That potential should be reinforced by the critical, shocking changes happening within Russia itself — changes that have thrown everyone into unfamiliar territory.

Intellectuals have a special responsibility in such moments, when society is shocked and appears unprepared for the changes ahead. They are precisely the force that can show people what is happening and what might come next.

Of course, yes, the Poles had a government in exile, and we Lithuanians had one too. Moreover, the Lithuanian emigration fairly quickly organized itself after World War II into what became the World Lithuanian Community, which proved to be a highly effective organization. On one hand, it supported Lithuanian culture and education across the globe; on the other, it raised political issues with the governments of the United States, the United Kingdom, and others. So, I believe that the time will come when you, too, will realize the need to organize — not on governmental or official bases, but through civic, unofficial channels.

Sometimes I ask myself why in 1990 — or even earlier, in 1988 — our Lithuanian intellectuals, members of the Sąjūdis independence movement, were able to stay united and not scatter into separate factions. After all, it’s well known that writers and similar figures tend to fall out with each other quickly. My answer is this: the situation developed in such a way that the leaders of our movement understood that only together could we achieve something great. Of course, we didn’t know where the Kremlin’s “red lines” were. We just kept moving step by step. And that sense of gradual movement — and shared purpose — is what held us together.

I hope that Russia’s intellectual community will also come to feel that a time of change is arriving — and that this change requires unity. The victory of Ukraine and the weakening of Putin’s regime will contribute to this. My vision is that very soon — I don’t know if it will be months or years, but soon — there will be a growing awareness that things cannot go on like this, and that change is already on the horizon.

Sergei Erofeev: As for non-governmental initiatives, they have been developing in Russia since the 1990s. In the fields of science and education, there were such unique projects as the European University at St. Petersburg, the New Economic School, and also Shaninka in Moscow, which was founded and developed by Teodor Shanin — who, by the way, also came from Vilnius. With the war, the lives of these institutions changed drastically; many of their talented staff members had to leave the country. But the very idea of independent education has remained — an idea that, over the past couple of decades, led to significant progress in the humanities and social sciences in post-Soviet Russia. There have been achievements of these new generations of scholars, which have not yet even been fully appreciated. Perhaps new figures similar to Theodor Shanin will breathe new life into this idea?

Andrius Kubilius: My generation remembers not only Gorbachev, but also Brezhnev — a time when such initiatives simply could not exist. Of course, compared to that era, the Putin regime is even harsher — in its attitude toward such initiatives and toward dissent in general. That is why the core problem must be addressed: the situation must be changed, and we must strive to steer Russia back toward democracy.

Last year, together with Vladimir Milov and Sergei Guriev, we published a report for the Martens Centre here in Brussels. It was about how the EU must already begin thinking about its future relationship with a democratic Russia. In politics, we often focus on the moment of change. That’s no coincidence — our recent conference was titled The Day After. That moment, of course, is important. But I believe that stabilizing democracy — building a long-term foundation for it — is a much more complex process than the transition itself. We tend to forget how quickly the social sentiment can shift after the initial euphoria fades. Democracy wins — and then the everyday reality begins. People expect miracles, but no miracle occurs immediately. And then all those problems begin to surface — the kind that can very quickly kill a democracy.

We must be prepared for this. I believe the West must meet Russia’s future young democracy with its own kind of Marshall Plan. Not a financial one — money is another matter entirely, especially given the issue of reparations for the damage caused to Ukraine. What I mean is opening up new opportunities for democratic Russia — wide gates into the world. And the emergence of leaders like Shanin is essential to help this young Russian democracy stabilize and become a normal state. This is something that Russian democrats, intellectuals, and those working on Russia policy within Western institutions must all keep in mind.

Sergei Erofeev: But what exactly can and should the West do? Apply gentle but firm pressure on post-Putin developments in Russia? Let’s take an example: in the 1990s, there was no lustration of the professors from the departments of “scientific communism.” University administrators and many professors remained essentially Soviet. Could something be done so that it’s not just about European exchange programs like Tempus, as it was in the 1990s and 2000s, but something broader — something that would help fully transform the modus operandi of Russian universities and academic institutions?

Andrius Kubilius: Again, everything is possible. At this moment, I don’t know exactly what kind of help will be needed. There are many different European structures and processes — the Bologna Process, for instance, and others. But we do need to start thinking about it now. That’s exactly why we created the Brussels Dialogue — to begin developing ideas that may initially seem more philosophical, but gradually become more concrete.

And here, I would return to the very beginning of our conversation. I hope that Europe will increasingly understand that democracy in Russia — and I mean a stable democracy — is extremely important not just for Russian citizens, but for all of Europe. That may sound like a slogan, but it’s a fundamental truth. Sitting here today in the European Parliament, I can see that this understanding is still lacking. Many in the West, including intellectuals, are busy outlining all sorts of scenarios for what might happen in Russia. Most of them are pessimistic — full collapse, chaos, and so on. And only between the lines is there a faint hope that maybe things will improve, that democracy might come.

It reminds me of scientific experiments — where you’re just observing from the outside, watching to see what happens in the setup, trying to guess which way the experiment will go. But as politicians and intellectuals in Europe, we cannot remain mere observers of what’s happening in Russia. We have to define a real, positive scenario and work to make it a reality — not just sit back and watch. That’s precisely what’s missing today. Why? I think it’s because people don’t fully grasp how essential a democratic Russia is for the whole of Europe — how it could transform the continent’s entire security architecture. There’s a lot more to say on that.

Interviewer: Sergei Erofeev, member of the T-Invariant Coordination Council, sociologist at Rutgers University, and former Vice-Rector of the Higher School of Economics in Moscow.