Migration as a weapon of managed chaos: how Russia destabilizes Central Europe through fear, fatigue, and disinformation

In 2026, migration in Central and Eastern Europe is no longer just a humanitarian challenge or a byproduct of a large-scale war. It is increasingly becoming a multidirectional instrument of hybrid warfare through which Russia seeks to undermine the internal resilience of Poland, the Czech Republic, and Slovakia, set European societies against one another, and weaken support for Ukraine. What previously looked like a crisis of managing human flows now increasingly resembles a controlled strategy of sub-threshold escalation in which the migrant simultaneously becomes an object of humanitarian policy, a target of disinformation, and in certain cases an instrument of sabotage.

The most dangerous aspect of this situation is that the Russian game begins not at the border, but with a change in public mood. In Poland and the Czech Republic, which have received the largest number of Ukrainians per capita, the regime of emergency solidarity is gradually being replaced by the logic of long-term integration accompanied by stricter national requirements. In Poland, the new legalization model is already moving away from simplified procedures toward an eight-year residence horizon, certified language proficiency, a test on history and constitutional values, tax residency, and an act of loyalty. At the same time, the migration intentions of Ukrainians themselves are stabilizing: 38% no longer plan to return home, while only 17% are ready to do so immediately after the end of hostilities. This means that migration is no longer a temporary issue. It is becoming a question of Ukraine’s demographic future and of the political stability of host countries.

The Czech case reveals another side of the same problem. There, economic necessity coexists with political fear. On the one hand, the Czech Republic faces an acute demographic deficit, and more than 155,000 Ukrainian women of reproductive age are seen as a potential resource for easing that crisis. On the other hand, the political debate is increasingly shifting toward restrictions after 2027, including geographical selection of Ukrainians by the principle of “safe” regions and targeting men of conscription age. When this is combined with limiting access to certain social benefits for people under temporary protection, the state itself creates an environment of uncertainty that can then be easily filled with hostile narratives.

External pressure only complicates this picture. Changes in US migration policy after January 2025 placed roughly 1.5 million people at risk of deportation, while Amnesty International documented cases of Polish territory and airports being used for the forced return of Ukrainians to the war zone. This creates not only a humanitarian but also a security problem. In such a model, Poland risks becoming not only a country of refuge, but also a transit point for practices that contradict the logic of non-refoulement. This further increases domestic tension and makes it easier for the Kremlin to present migration as a source of chaos rather than as a consequence of Russian aggression.

This is where the political instrumentalization of migration begins. Resistance to Ukrainian integration in the countries of Central and Eastern Europe is shaped not only by economic fatigue. It is actively constructed by political elites that use populism to mobilize voters. Slovakia offers the clearest example here, where Robert Fico’s government combines pro-Russian, anti-Western, and anti-migration narratives while operating in conditions of collapsing trust in state institutions. Government trust at 18%, along with one of the lowest levels of trust in the police in the region, creates an ideal vacuum that Russian propaganda readily fills. SMER-SD and its allies use migration to divert attention from corruption and the curtailment of media freedom, radical right-wing groups receive ideological and financial support, and the Russian diplomatic presence in Bratislava amplifies panic. This is no longer simply political rhetoric. It is a model of the Orbánization of Slovak politics through fear.

In Poland and the Czech Republic, the mechanism is more subtle, but no less dangerous. There, anti-migration sentiment is often built on a series of artificially created myths about “social injustice.” Ukrainians are portrayed as having priority in medical queues, as being responsible for inflation and budget deficits, and as constituting a cultural threat to local cities and labor markets. These narratives do not have to be logically strong. It is enough that they resonate with everyday irritation, competition for resources, and fatigue from a prolonged conflict. That is exactly why they become so effective in electoral politics, especially when amplified by figures such as Andrej Babiš, who has grown increasingly cautious and at times openly hostile toward support for Ukraine.