The Conversation

As the closure of the Strait of Hormuz drags on, the United Nations’ International Maritime Organization has sounded the alarm over a related humanitarian crisis: the plight of the crew stuck on ships at or near the strait.

Up to 20,000 seafarers on 2,000 vessels remain stranded in and around the strait, enduring a combination of physical danger and psychological stress typical of combat zones.

They face daily horrors at work. Exhausted by the risk of being hit by missiles or falling debris, they cannot rest in safe harbours, as nearby ports are not secure.

As their supplies dwindle to dangerously low levels, they must ration food and water and rely on charities such as Mission to Seafarers for supplies (at great risk to the charity workers).

The longer the crisis persists, the more likely seafarers will be working after their contracts expire. They risk not being paid and being unable to get home. Desperate seafarers have also reportedly been targeted by scammers offering safe passage through the strait in exchange for cryptocurrency.

The current crisis is deeply troubling. But the grim reality is that even at the best of times, seafarers generally experience appalling working conditions, while contending with geopolitical crises and unpredictable trade cycles.

These workers face financial insecurity, job uncertainty, physical and mental hazards, isolation, overwork and limited career prospects. Fatigue and sleep deprivation expose them to serious injuries or illnesses on vessels that often operate without adequate medical facilities or qualified doctors.

Lessons of COVID

The current crisis echoes problems revealed during the COVID pandemic. Then, some 400,000 seafarers were stranded at sea. Many were unpaid, and couldn’t be repatriated.

Some ship operators introduced “no crew change” clauses (which ban crew changes while the operator’s cargo is onboard). Such clauses in contracts undermine seafarers’ rights under the Maritime Labour Convention 2006. This exists to promote safety, security and good working conditions on ships, and protect seafarers’ rights.

As a result of an amendment to this convention, seafarers have since been designated as “key workers”. This facilitates access to shore leave, repatriation, crew changes and medical care ashore.

However, the amendments do not take effect until December 2027.

More broadly, the Maritime Labour Convention requires shipowners to provide accommodation, food, transportation, cover for medical expenses and repatriation (the cost of the seafarers’ journeys home, including accommodation).

But it relies on the countries where ships are registered (known as flag states) to regulate shipping – and ships are constantly moving and beyond the reach of regulators. Many are registered under flags of convenience (that is, not where they are owned) in countries with low labour standards that are seldom enforced.

Risk of attack or abandonment

Many commercial ships currently stuck in the Strait of Hormuz have been targeted in military operations, by both Iranian and US forces.

Seafarers also face the unique threat of abandonment. This is where shipowners – in breach of maritime law – leave them without wages, support or maintenance. This occurs when shipowners fail to secure new business.

And it is very difficult for seafarers to leave the ship on which they work. Maritime law also compels crews to keep ships safe and operational and prevents them abandoning ships except under the most extreme circumstances, such as if the vessel is sinking.

In 2025, 6,223 seafarers were abandoned on 410 ships – the sixth yearly increase in a row.

According to the International Seafarers’ Welfare and Assistance Network, there are probably many more unreported cases as seafarers fear dismissal and being blacklisted from other work.

Early indications for 2026 are that the number of seafarers abandoned by shipowners already exceeds 6,000 cases.

Abandoned seafarers were also owed US$25.8 million in unpaid wages in 2025, of which just $16.5 million was recovered.

Shadow fleets

Most abandonments are linked to the shadow fleet, meaning ships that carry oil, gas and other goods in breach of sanctions. The shadow fleet has expanded to 20% of the world’s tankers and 7.5% of LPG carriers.

Shadow fleet vessels have opaque ownership, inadequate insurance and poorly trained crew obtained through illegal recruitment methods bordering on human trafficking.

They are registered in countries with lenient labour laws and poor labour protections, few safety regulations and little oversight. More than half of these ships are more than 15 years old (the traditional cut off age for tankers used by major oil companies) and are in substandard condition. They also use ports where they are unlikely to be inspected.

In addition, they are often run by small ship management companies with little technical knowledge or industry experience, about which very little information is available.

Stranded in the strait

Under the circumstances in the strait, seafarers have been denied the right of repatriation. First, the US blockade prevents ships accessing ports from which they could transit. Second, the fuel crisis has driven the price of flights to a level that many shipowners cannot afford.

India, which maintains diplomatic relations with Iran and imports 90% of its gas from the Persian Gulf, has negotiated the safe passage of its seafarers.

But thousands of others remain stranded, with no states coming to their aid.

The United States under President Donald Trump and the European Union have a complicated relationship. On one hand, European countries and the US have built some of the strongest alliances since the end of the second world war. On the other, since the start of Trump’s second term in 2025, they have openly clashed on significant issues: tariffs, NATO contributions, Palestinian statehood, Israel’s interventionism, Ukraine support levels and Greenland’s sovereignty.

Trump’s sudden war on Iran is the latest of these clashes, but it is distinctive because it is shaking the world’s economy. The US war on Iran, alongside Israel’s war on Lebanon, is accelerating a notable reshaping of European alliances and strategic thinking about the union’s future.

The EU has more than 450 million inhabitants, and its GDP is nearly on par with that of the US or China. Despite its polymorphic nature, and in fact perhaps because of it, it is a world player that can exercise considerable sway over international affairs.

European leaders are now attempting to drive a lasting ceasefire, and perhaps even peace, between the US and Iran, with the aim of reopening the strait of Hormuz as soon as possible.

A non-UN/NATO sanctioned conflict

EU countries believe in the rules-based order and international institutions. This is not only because of their democratic constitution and values, but also because they offer them better protection than “might makes right”.

Trump’s unilateral war on Iran sits well beyond international conventions. It was neither sanctioned by a UN mandate or resolution, nor approved by NATO. As a result, European leaders have refused to contribute.

Spain and Italy have outwardly refused to allow US weapon-carrying planes bound for the Iran conflict to use their bases. Meanwhile, France is taking a more case-by-case approach in authorising or declining use of its airspace as part of operations linked to the conflict.

Spain, Italy, Germany, France and the United Kingdom have also refused to send direct military support to contribute to Trump’s war. However, France and the UK are willing to deploy within a peace or maritime security framework once the war is over.

Europe united, at last?

Trump’s war on Iran has accelerated a much deeper, more significant process: the coordination of European leaders on central issues such as European strategic independence in defence, diplomacy and energy.

Since Trump’s return to the Oval Office, there has been a subtle but important diversification of the EU’s diplomatic and military agreements with regional partners. Six such agreements have been signed by the EU, followed by a dozen more bilateral agreements of its member states with other countries.

This greater European coordination is being validated and reinforced by the war in Iran. The global disruption in the production and circulation of petro-based products generated by the near total closure of the Straight of Hormuz is prompting urgent European responses.

On April 17, in Paris, UK and French leaders Keir Starmer and Emmanuel Macron, flanked by their German and Italian counterparts Friedrich Merz and Giorgia Meloni, co-presided over a conference on navigation in the Strait of Hormuz. They were joined by 49 other countries, with more than half of the EU’s member states present alongside representatives of EU institutions and international organisations.

The meeting proposed the “full, immediate, and unconditional reopening of the Strait of Hormuz”. The leaders agreed to start planning, from London next week, a neutral mission to guarantee safety and free passage in the strait.

The war in Iran and Trump’s criticisms of the pope have ruptured Trump’s relationship with Meloni, whose electoral base has grown worried about the US president’s unpredictability.

A shifting tide

For a time, Trump and the MAGA movement had worked hard, and somewhat successfully, to drive a wedge between European leaders. They supported the far right in Germany, Viktor Orbán in Hungary, and Meloni in Italy.

But, just three days before Meloni arrived in Paris, Orbán faced an enormous electoral defeat. During the 16 years of his iron-fist rule in Hungary, the pro-Russian Orbán had been a critic of Europe, creating considerable headaches for the EU by blocking a range of initiatives and providing sensitive information to his friend Vladimir Putin. His replacement by a more moderate leader, Péter Magyar, has sparked significant hope in European chancelleries for greater unity.

The internal divisions that Trump relied on to deal with Europe are eroding.

Furthermore, his threats to acquire Greenland only months ago were met by immediate European reactions such as putting a commercial agreement with the US on ice, launching operation “Arctic Endurance”, and affirming Danish and European sovereignty. The EU has once again shown its ability to resist Washington’s pressures and affirm its strategic autonomy.

Where now for Europe?

These episodes in national and international affairs have prepared the ground for a more united approach to the current crisis. European leaders, so often hampered by divisions exacerbated by Russia and the US, are now in a unique position to weigh in on the current Iran crisis and the shock it is delivering to the global economy.

This is because the concerns that unite them – energy security, potential inflation and unemployment – overrule any ideological affinity towards Moscow or Washington.

Besides greater diplomatic integration of European member states, the current crisis is also a catalyst for the European Commission to accelerate its efforts to limit consumption of fossil fuel, safeguard supply networks and accelerate the electrification of Europe’s economies through nuclear and renewables.

Paradoxically, the Iran and Hormuz crises have – as Russia’s invasion of Ukraine did in 2022 – driven further European integration. This renewed faith in a European voice is happening both between member states and between European institutions such as the European Parliament, the European Commission and the Foreign Affairs Council.

This rapprochement between European leaders is starting to yield outcomes beyond the Iranian crisis. Visiting Polish Prime Minister Donald Tusk on April 20, Macron declared he was “reasonably optimistic” for a “new era in Europe”, starting with more support for Ukraine, previously vetoed by the departed Orban.

The significant disruptions created by Trump’s attack on Iran may well have the side effect of a more autonomous and sovereign Europe. Despite the tensions between the US and European states, all have an interest in a peaceful Iran – and Ukraine.

For some in Europe, the war in Iran may be resolved amicably if further collaboration is achieved through US support in Ukraine.

Romain Fathi, Associate Professor, School of History, ANU / Chercheur Associé at the Centre d’Histoire de Sciences Po, Australian National University

This article is republished from The Conversation under a Creative Commons license. Read the original article.

With a shaky ceasefire in place between the US, Israel and Iran – and little progress on talks to resolve the complex issues at the heart of the war – where is this conflict going?

The most likely scenario is a frozen conflict.

A frozen conflict is not static, but is an unresolved war that continues at a low-level below the threshold of full-scale combat.

This typically occurs when a comprehensive political agreement cannot be reached, such as the fighting in eastern Ukraine from 2014 until Russia’s full-scale invasion in 2022. This conflict was considered frozen despite the deaths of some 14,000 military personnel and civilians and persistent cyber and information warfare.

Even if negotiations resume this week in Pakistan and an eventual agreement is reached, there are still three reasons we believe this is headed towards a frozen conflict, not a comprehensive peace agreement.

1) Trump equates ceasefires with an end to war

US President Donald Trump’s approach to foreign policy has shown he does not treat ceasefires as pauses for negotiations to agree on substantive political issues. Rather, he declares a ceasefire as a US success, then moves on to the next global issue.

Trump claims to have ended ten wars, including the current conflict with Iran and Israel’s war in Lebanon. A closer look reveals that in most of these conflicts, a shaky ceasefire has held while substantive issues remain unresolved.

This has left frozen conflicts in place with ongoing tensions. In India and Pakistan, which engaged in a brief armed conflict last year, for example, there is a continued risk of renewed hostilities. And a lasting peace between Thailand and Cambodia after last year’s border spats remains elusive.

Yet, Trump has walked away from these conflicts and claimed an end to war as soon as a cessation of major hostilities was in place.

2) Asymmetric wars are difficult to resolve

The current war is asymmetric because of the huge difference in military strength between the US and Israel on one side, and Iran on the other.

Iran has intentionally used asymmetric tactics to counter the US’ overwhelming military power, including targeting infrastructure in Persian Gulf countries not involved in the war and closing the Strait of Hormuz to commercial shipping traffic to disrupt the global economy.

Research shows asymmetric wars are inherently protracted and often open-ended. As a result, they are more likely to end in a frozen conflict than an enduring political settlement.

The reason for this is simple. The weaker actor cannot win a conventional military battle against the stronger actor. So, it tries to exhaust the more powerful nation with political, economic and psychological pressure, forcing a withdrawal and cessation of hostilities.

This is what we are seeing now between the US and Iran. Trump is feeling these rising pressures and is pursuing a ceasefire, while trying to claim a US victory.

Iran, meanwhile, has agreed to a ceasefire in a bid for survival as the weaker actor, rather than a commitment to an enduring end to the conflict.

This is reminiscent of the Taliban in Afghanistan, who survived 20 years in a frozen conflict with the US before taking back control of the country when the US withdrew.

3) There’s been no focus on the more complex issues

Neither the US nor Iran appears committed to any long-term resolution of the underlying tensions at the root of the conflict. Key among these is the question of Iran’s nuclear program.

For Washington, the first round of peace talks in Pakistan on April 11–12 were aborted because Iran refused to compromise on its nuclear program. And Iran has long argued it has an inalienable right to enrich uranium for civilian purposes.

The negotiations that led to the multilateral 2015 deal on Iran’s nuclear program – the Joint Comprehensive Plan of Action – took 20 months to conclude. Trump withdrew from the agreement three years later, calling it a “horrible one-sided deal”.

Given this history, a quick and clear resolution to this complex dispute is unlikely.

Some analysts believe the US and Iran could announce a partial agreement that would leave many of the technical aspects to be ironed out later.

But Trump is now facing an opponent that is unlikely to become more accommodating with respect to its long-term “nuclear rights”. In fact, Iran has already shown its resolve by asserting a new geostrategic normal, closing the Strait of Hormuz and disrupting the global economy.

What a frozen conflict means for the region

The Iran-US war may conclude with a series of ceasefires, but will likely remain a frozen conflict due to these underlying tensions. This means more threats from both sides over Iran’s nuclear program and periodic flare-ups of violence between Israel and Iran, the US and Iran, or both.

This is much like the frozen situation in Gaza. Last October, Israel and Hamas agreed to a ceasefire under Trump’s 20-point peace plan. The first phase of the plan was then largely implemented, leading to a hostage-prisoner exchange, a decrease in Israel’s heavy bombardments of Gaza and a resumption of aid into the strip.

However, there has since been no progress on the more complex questions of the post-war governance of Gaza, redevelopment of the strip and – crucially – the disarmament of Hamas fighters. As a result, Israel has refused to completely withdraw its troops and violence has continued.

From a historical perspective, the frozen conflict in the Koreas is also instructive. The war ended with an armistice in 1953 and no peace treaty, effectively leaving North and South Korea at war to this day. This led to the North developing an underground nuclear weapons program that continues to pose a threat to the world.

Similarly, the decades-long frozen India-Pakistan conflict has led to an arms race (including the development of nuclear weapons on both sides), instability in South Asia and periodic flare-ups of violence.

A frozen conflict between the US, Israel and Iran will no doubt create similar long-term instability in the Middle East, including a possible arms race in the Middle East and more flare-ups of violence, particularly around control of the Strait of Hormuz.

A recent study published in the journal Nature Microbiology found that when soil dries out, it can speed up the natural processes that create and spread antibiotic resistance. This doesn’t mean drought directly creates superbugs in hospitals, but it suggests climate change could make the problem worse.

This matters a lot for the UK. The Met Office predicts that summers will get hotter and drier, with longer droughts if emissions stay high. Meanwhile, the NHS is already struggling with antibiotic-resistant infections, which are harder to treat and keep patients in hospital longer. When standard antibiotics stop working, doctors are sometimes forced to use powerful alternatives that are kept in reserve precisely because overusing them risks making those resistant too. These are known as “drugs of last resort”.

So what’s actually happening in the soil? Soil is teeming with bacteria, and many of them naturally produce antibiotics to kill off rivals. Other bacteria carry genes that make them resistant to those attacks.

An arms race in the soil

In normal, moist soil, bacteria live in a relatively stable environment. But when soil dries out, water gets squeezed into tiny, isolated pockets. Bacteria get crowded together, nutrients become scarce and competition turns brutal. In these conditions, bacteria produce more antibiotics to attack each other, and more resistance genes emerge to help them survive. It’s an arms race fuelled by drought.

Here’s why that’s relevant to human health: bacteria can swap genes with each other through a process called horizontal gene transfer – think of it like sharing a video game cheat code. This means resistance genes from soil bacteria can be picked up by bacteria that infect humans. In fact, some resistance genes found in soil bacteria have already been spotted in bacteria that infect people, hinting at a long evolutionary connection between the two.

Some large studies have found that drier regions of the world tend to report higher levels of antibiotic-resistant infections in hospitals, even when taking differences in wealth and healthcare quality into account. However, these studies show correlation, not direct cause and effect. Other factors like how infections are tracked or how easy it is to access healthcare could also explain this pattern.

Some of the soil bacteria linked to this problem are close relatives of hospital pathogens like Klebsiella pneumoniae and Pseudomonas aeruginosa, which belong to a group called Eskape, responsible for many of the world’s hardest-to-treat infections. Again, this doesn’t mean these bugs come from soil, but it does show how connected environmental and clinical bacteria really are.

Antibiotic resistance already causes millions of infections every year worldwide. Most efforts to tackle it have focused on cutting unnecessary antibiotic use in medicine and farming, which is still vital. But this research suggests the environment itself, and how climate change is reshaping it, also plays a role we can’t afford to ignore.

This is where the idea of One Health comes in. One Health is the idea that human, animal and environmental health are all closely linked. Antibiotic resistance, seen through this lens, isn’t just a medical problem, it’s an ecological one too.

As droughts become more common in the UK and around the world, scientists will need to keep a much closer eye on what’s happening beneath our feet.

Election races for local school boards have become hotly contested in many states as they have become forums for debates over gender-identity discussions, immigrant students and even prayer at school events.

Liberal candidates largely swept school board elections on April 7, 2026, in politically contentious districts in Wisconsin, Missouri, Alaska and Oklahoma, where book bans, gender identity and prayer during school events were on the table.

Amy Lieberman, the education editor at The Conversation U.S., spoke with Carrie Sampson, a scholar of educational leadership and policy with an emphasis on school boards, to understand what school board members do and why these local elections carry weight for many parents, teachers and students.

What are district school boards?

School boards are the governing organization for local school districts. There are typically anywhere from five to 21 members of a school board in a district. On average, there are seven to nine members on a school board.

Overall, there are approximately 13,000 school districts and about 90,000 local school board members in the United States.

School board members are typically elected, but sometimes they are appointed by mayors or other local or state officials. They are representatives of their local communities, as well as trustees who make governing decisions about school district budgets, hiring and other issues like a school district’s educational priorities.

School board elections typically have relatively low voter turnout. Research shows that nearly 40% of school board elections go uncontested.

The majority of school board members are unpaid, but some receive a small stipend for their work. A handful of school boards, like in Los Angeles, for example, receive a relatively large salary.

What does a school board member’s day-to-day work look like?

School boards typically meet twice a month, often to deliberate over issues such as budget or policy decisions.

One of a school board’s major jobs in most districts is hiring and firing a district superintendent, who effectively acts as the CEO of the district.

In terms of fiscal decisions, a school district administrator often presents what budget allocations should be for schools, and a school board votes to approve or disapprove that.

Most school boards create agendas and vote on a range of issues that are not particularly controversial, like whether the district will adopt an after-school program.

Why does a school board’s work matter?

School boards can make some critical decisions that impact the lives of students, parents and teachers. Many school districts are dealing with issues around school closures. Ultimately, school boards decide whether they are going to close a school in a district.

Many school districts are experiencing declining student enrollment, in part because of birth rate declines. People also have more and more school options to pick from, be it private schools, charter schools or homeschooling.

Within the past few years, school boards have also gained a lot of attention about whether they should ban particular books from districts, and whether they should ban or approve certain curriculum.

What other controversial issues have they taken on in the past few years?

Years before COVID-19, school boards in some conservative communities took on questions about which bathroom transgender students in public schools should use. Another big issue is whether schools should allow transgender students to participate on gendered sports teams.

During the pandemic, a rising number of communities began to see school boards as critical decision-makers. School boards were often making decisions about whether to close or reopen schools. They were also voting on requirements related to mask mandates or vaccines. Even people who didn’t live in certain school districts showed up at board meetings to advocate for certain COVID policies.

During the Black Lives Matter protest movement in 2020, some conservative communities started to speak out against critical race theory and their fear that it was being taught in K-12 schools. Most teachers don’t actually instruct on critical race theory.

Around this time, two major school advocacy organizations emerged nationwide: Moms for Liberty and Defending Education, formerly known as Parents Defending Education. These groups tried to elect conservative school board members to take on issues like book bans – and in some cases did so successfully.

My colleague Gabriela Lopez and I wrote a research paper in 2024 about people’s attempts to recall school board members. In 2021, we found, there was an all-time high of 545 school board members who faced recall, mostly because of mask mandates and other COVID-related issues.

Another trend was that police arrested or charged at least 59 people due to unrest at school board meetings from May 2021 through November 2022.

Are school boards taking on more controversial issues than they used to?

Every era has a point at which these controversial issues come to the school board level.

School boards made critical decisions around school desegregation in the 1950s through the 1970s. My research with colleagues on this topic shows that while many districts were legally mandated to desegregate schools, it was often school boards that voted on how these schools would be desegregated. Some school boards voted on policies that placed the burden on Black children and their families. One school board in Virginia even temporarily closed the schools completely to avoid desegregation.

Twenty to 30 years ago, many school boards faced tension over whether and how schools should teach sex ed.

Today, a lot of the political controversy about school boards is more widely known, for a few reasons. First, more communities have access to school board meetings, since many are video recorded. Second, social media has amplified what school boards do. There are also more outside organizations, such as local chapters of Moms for Liberty, that have been involved with school boards.

School boards taking on controversial issues are more likely to be in suburban and racially diverse school districts, compared to their rural or urban counterparts.

A report in 2024 found that the cost of conflict among school boards nationwide in 2023-24 was nearly $3.2 billion, when considering the amount of turnover or security needed for school board meetings.

Hungary’s most consequential election in decades has just delivered an important victory for democracy and accountability.

For Hungarians, opposition leader Péter Magyar’s emphatic defeat of Prime Minister Viktor Orbán and his ruling Fidesz Party ends 16 years of corruption and quasi-authoritarianism.

The outcome will also be felt widely, from Moscow to Washington and beyond.

In a contest characterised as a referendum on whether Hungary should pivot west or continue its authoritarian drift, Magyar’s victory is a stern rebuke to the dark, transnational forces of nativism, division and the politics of resentment that have become part of mainstream political discourse.

Perhaps the most surprising thing about the election was not the turnout (more than 74%, shattering previous records), or even the result (a two-thirds supermajority for Magyar’s Tisza party, winning at least 138 of 199 parliamentary seats).

Both had been predicted for some time, and Orbán’s soft authoritarianism had always left the door ajar for a possible opposition victory at the polls.

Rather, the biggest surprise might have been Orbán’s immediate concession. He didn’t try to manufacture a crisis or use his security services to hold onto power. Given the strength of anti-government sentiment in Hungary, such a move could have led to a “colour revolution” – the type of massive street protests seen previously in Ukraine, Georgia and other countries.

This could have turned bloody. Liberal Hungarians, and the European Union more broadly, will be heaving a collective sigh of relief.

Why Orbán was suddenly vulnerable

Having won office, Magyar will need to move quickly but also carefully to bring change, so as not to alienate too many former Fidesz voters.

He has already asked President Tamaś Sulyok to resign, along with other Orbán loyalists. The Tisza supermajority in parliament is important here. It will be required for constitutional amendments to dismantle the architecture of Orbán’s authoritarian state.

Fortunately, this will be easier in Hungary than fully fledged autocratic systems. Indeed, Orbán’s longevity can somewhat be attributed to the fact that his brand of authoritarianism was only partial.

Certainly, it had the structural elements of an autocracy. That included widespread, government-controlled gerrymandering to ensure Fidesz victories, and the cynical diversion of state funds to cities and provinces controlled by Orbán’s political allies.

In addition, the nationalised media ecosystem was heavily supportive of the government, although alternative voices kept debate alive via foreign-owned news organisations.

But Orbán’s success also came from facing weak and easily fragmented or coopted oppositions. Magyar – a former Orbán ally – ran a disciplined campaign that nullified the electoral advantage for Fidesz.

Ultimately, though, when voters have a choice – even a constrained one – they will eventually reject governments that rely on blame and victimhood to mask their inability to offer people a better future.

Under Orbán, Hungary was consistently ranked the most corrupt nation in Europe. In 2025, it ranked last in the EU on relative household wealth. It had also suffered rampant inflation and economic stagnation after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in 2022.

Video footage of country estates built by Hungary’s elites, complete with zebras roaming the grounds, perfectly symbolised the popular outrage with wealth inequality.

A setback for Putin, Trump and right-wing populism

Hungary’s new start also sends a powerful message to other nations. Clearly the biggest loser from the election is Vladimir Putin’s Russia, which had hastily tapped Kremlin powerbroker Sergey Kiriyenko and a team of “political technologists” to assist Orbán.

Under Orbán, Hungary was the strongest pro-Kremlin voice in the EU. It regularly stymied aid packages for Ukraine, tied up decision-making on the war in bureaucratic processes, and held the European Commission to ransom by threatening hold-out votes.

In fact, just days before the election, Bloomberg published a transcript of a phone call between Orbán and Putin from October 2025, in which Orbán compared himself to a mouse helping free the caged Russian lion.

This came on the back of revelations that Orbán’s foreign minister, Péter Szijjártó, and other Hungarian officials had regularly been leaking confidential EU discussions to Moscow.

Another loser from the Hungarian election is the Trump White House.

The pre-election Budapest visit by US Vice President JD Vance to shore up support for Orbán was breathtakingly hypocritical. Vance farcically demanded an end to foreign election meddling, while engaging in precisely that. The White House then doubled down, with Trump promising on Truth Social to aid Orbán with the “full Economic Might of the United States”.

Now, though, Trump is very publicly on the losing side. And like the debacle of his Iran war, he tends to chafe at losing.

The election also shows that US foreign interference campaigns are not invulnerable, though the White House will doubtless continue excoriating Europe. The Trump administration’s view that Europe is heading for “civilisational erasure”, necessitating US efforts to “cultivate resistance” and “help Europe correct its current trajectory” is documented in its 2025 National Security Strategy.

But the broader movements representing what Russian journalist Mikhail Zygar calls the “Putinisation of global politics” have been repudiated by Hungary’s election result.

Under Orbán, Hungary was a hub for ultraconservative voices. Think tanks like the MAGA-boosting US Heritage Foundation and Hungary’s Danube Institute regularly held prominent dialogues bemoaning Europe’s capitulation to wokeism.

The Hungarian iteration of the Conservative Political Action Conference (CPAC), sponsored by the American Conservative Union, was a key calendar for Western right-wing politicians and commentators, including former Australian Prime Minister Tony Abbott, Reform UK leader Nigel Farage, and former Fox News host Tucker Carlson.

China will also be keenly watching Magyar’s new government, especially since it has viewed Hungary as a soft entry point to the EU. The large-scale investment in electric vehicle manufacturing, especially battery production, are part of a growing Chinese business footprint in the country.

For Beijing, the question will be whether Magyar seeks to sacrifice this lucrative investment to burnish his European credentials.

What about the winners?

In addition to Hungarians outside Orbán’s orbit of elites, the EU will welcome the news that it remains an attractive force.

Ukraine, too, may find it easier to secure European assistance. At the very least, smaller Ukraine detractors like Slovakia will have to choose between acquiescing quietly or thrusting themselves uncomfortably into the open.

Yet, although Hungary’s result is promising, the world is still trending towards illiberalism.

And with the US midterm elections fast approaching, far-right American politicians, including Trump himself, will be studying Hungary’s lessons closely. If they conclude that Orbán’s brand of authoritarianism was too soft, a more hardline path looms as an ominous alternative.

President Dwight D. Eisenhower’s administration had already begun promoting atomic energy to generate electricity and to power submarines. After the Suez crisis, the U.S. government expanded plans to harness “atoms for peace.”

Project Plowshare advocates, led by Teller, sought to use what they called “peaceful nuclear explosions” to reduce the costs of large-scale earthmoving projects and to promote national security. They envisioned a world in which nuclear explosives could help extract natural gas from underground reservoirs and build new canals, harbors and mountainside roads, with minimal radioactive effects.

To kick-start the program, Teller wanted to create an instant harbor by burying, and then detonating, five thermonuclear bombs in an Indigenous village in coastal northwestern Alaska. The plan, known as Project Chariot, generated intense debate, as well as a pioneering environmental study of Arctic food webs.

Teller and the Livermore physicists also worked with the Army Corps of Engineers to study the possibility of using nuclear explosions to build another waterway in Panama. Fearing that the aging Panama Canal and its narrow locks would soon be rendered obsolete, U.S. officials had called for building a wider, deeper channel that wouldn’t require any locks to raise and lower the ships along its route.

A sea-level canal would not only fit bigger vessels; it would also be simpler to operate than the lock-based system, which required thousands of employees. Since the early 1900s, U.S. canal workers and their families had lived in the Canal Zone, a large strip of land surrounding the waterway. Panamanians increasingly resented having their country split in two by the racially segregated, colony-like zone.

Crossing Central America

Nuclear explosions appeared to make a new sea-level canal financially feasible. The greatest impetus for the so-called Panatomic Canal occurred in January 1964, when violent anti-U.S. protests erupted in Panama. President Lyndon B. Johnson responded to the crisis by agreeing to negotiate new political agreements with Panama.

Johnson appointed the Atlantic-Pacific Interoceanic Canal Study Commission to determine the best site to use nuclear explosions to blast a seaway between the two oceans. Funded by a $17.5 million congressional appropriation – the equivalent of around $185 million today – the five civilian commissioners focused on two routes: one in eastern Panama and the other in western Colombia.

The Panamanian route spanned forested river valleys of the Darién isthmus and reached 1,100 feet above sea level. To excavate this landscape, engineers proposed setting off 294 nuclear explosives along the route, in 14 separate detonations, using the explosive equivalent of 166.4 million tons of TNT.

This was a mind-blowing amount of energy: The most powerful nuclear weapon ever tested, the Soviet “Tsar Bomba” blast in 1961, released the energy equivalent to 50 million tons of TNT.

To avoid the radioactivity and ground shocks, planners estimated that approximately 30,000 people, half of them Indigenous, would have to be evacuated and resettled. The canal commission considered this a formidable but not impossible obstacle, writing in its final report, “The problems of public acceptance of nuclear canal excavation probably could be solved through diplomacy, public education, and compensating payments.”

A not-so-hot idea, in retrospect

As explored in my book, marine and evolutionary biologists of the late 1960s sought to study the project’s less obvious environmental effects. Among other potential catastrophes, scientists warned that a sea-level canal could unleash “mutual invasions of Atlantic and Pacific organisms” by joining the oceans on either side of the isthmus for the first time in 3 million years.

Plans for the nuclear waterway ended by the early 1970s, not over concerns about marine invasive species but rather due to other complex issues. These included the difficulties of testing nuclear explosions for peaceful purposes without violating the Limited Nuclear Test Ban Treaty of 1963 and the huge budget deficits caused by the Vietnam War.

Despite the geopolitical and financial constraints, the sea-level canal studies employed hundreds of researchers who increased knowledge of the isthmus and its human and nonhuman inhabitants. Ironically, the studies revealed that wet clay shale rocks along the Darién route meant nuclear explosives might not work well there.

But for Project Plowshare’s biggest proponents, atomic excavation remained a worthwhile goal. In 1970, in their final report, the canal commissioners predicted that “someday nuclear explosions will be used in a wide variety of massive earth-moving projects.” Teller shared their commitment, as he explained near the end of his life in the 2000 documentary “Nuclear Dynamite.”

Today, given widespread awareness of the severe environmental and health effects of radioactive fallout, it is hard to envision a time when using nuclear bombs to build canals seemed reasonable. Even before Gingrich’s post sparked ridicule, press accounts described Project Plowshare using words like “wacky,” “insane” and “crazy.”

However, as societies struggle with disruptive new technologies such as generative AI and cryptocurrency, it is worth remembering that many ideas that ended up discredited once seemed not only sensible but inevitable.

As historians of science and technology point out, technological and scientific developments cannot be separated from their cultural contexts. Moreover, the technologies that become part of people’s daily lives often do so not because they are inherently superior, but because powerful interests champion them.

It makes me wonder: Which of the high-tech trends being promoted by influencers today will amuse, shock and horrify our descendants?