Monthly Monitoring of Analytical Publications on Post-Soviet Conflicts

PSCRP-BESA Reports No 185 (February 24, 2026)

January turned out to be a positive surprise: the speed of global transformations, the emergence of new configurations of interests, and new roles for seemingly traditional actors were fully on display across the post-Soviet space.
And researchers felt it too, clearly revising their plans in favor of greater topicality and a demand for a strategic look from the standpoint of today and the near future.

The study “The Internationalization of Armed Intrastate Conflict: A Systematic Assessment of the State of Research, Data, and Explanations” was prepared in the working-paper format for the research center “Transformations of Political Violence” (TraCe) in cooperation with Goethe University Frankfurt.

The authors—Frederik Schissler, Felix Bethke, Hanna Pfeifer, Constantin Ruhe, Regine Schwab, and Jonas Wolff—assessed trends in the internationalization of armed intrastate conflicts, combining quantitative data analysis with bibliometric research since the early 2000s and theoretical innovations—an approach that makes the work especially relevant for studying the transformation of conflicts in the republics of the former USSR.

Using data from the Uppsala Conflict Data Program (UCDP), they show that internationalized intrastate conflicts—defined as conflicts involving the troops of foreign governments—rose markedly after 2008, reaching an unprecedented level by 2020, when twenty-seven such conflicts occurred worldwide. This trend is not merely a statistical fluctuation but a fundamental shift in conflict patterns: internationalized conflicts account for the majority of battle-related deaths in intrastate conflicts from 2004 to 2022. The authors distinguish between direct support (troop deployments) and indirect support (arming, training, intelligence, financing), demonstrating that while direct military intervention draws attention, indirect support has historically been more widespread. UCDP External Support Data (ESD) for 1975–2017 show that indirect state support—particularly arms supplies, training, and the provision of intelligence—was the predominant form of external involvement.

This distinction is important for understanding post-Soviet conflicts, where Russian intervention has often relied on hybrid approaches that combine a limited direct military presence with extensive indirect support. The Transnistria conflict (1992), the Georgian conflicts in South Ossetia and Abkhazia (2008), and the ongoing conflict in Ukraine illustrate this model, in which direct troop involvement is officially denied or constrained, while indirect support—including weapons, advisers, and intelligence—proves decisive.

There is also a specific regional pattern in the post-Soviet space. For example, Russia’s support is often directed at unrecognized proto-state entities challenging recognized governments (Ukraine, Georgia, Moldova), whereas Western support typically reinforces incumbent governments against Russia-backed challengers. This produces a characteristic regional model in which great-power competition generates competing interventions in support of opposing sides.

The authors’ network-analytic model is especially helpful for looking at how post-Soviet conflicts have spread to other countries. By treating conflicts as unfolding within networks that include the primary conflict parties and external actors with different ties and attributes, the model captures the multi-level character of post-Soviet conflicts, where historical legacies, ethnic linkages, economic dependency, and geopolitical rivalry intersect.

This framework identifies three potential drivers of internationalization: (1) changes in the characteristics of actors; (2) changes in ties between actors; and (3) changes in structural context that alter the salience of existing characteristics and ties. Each dimension highlights aspects of post-Soviet conflict dynamics.

With regard to actor characteristics, the authors emphasize the growing prevalence of Islamist insurgent groups as a core feature driving internationalization. While this factor primarily explains trends in the Middle East, North Africa, and Sub-Saharan Africa—regions that account for 82 percent of internationalized conflicts since 2010—it is directly relevant to part of the post-Soviet conflict landscape, including the two Chechen wars in the North Caucasus and instability in Central Asia.

The dimension of ties between actors is even more applicable to post-Soviet conflict analysis. The authors point to links (ethnic, religious, ideological), historical relationships (especially colonial legacies), geographic proximity, and interstate rivalry as key factors shaping external intervention. Post-Soviet conflicts display strong ethnic-kin dynamics—Russian support for Russian-speaking populations in Ukraine, Moldova, and the Baltic states; Armenian-Azerbaijani rivalry extending into Nagorno-Karabakh—that fit squarely within this analytical framework. The historical legacy of Soviet-era political and economic integration created durable connections that are activated in post-independence conflicts, with Russia claiming a special responsibility to protect Russian-speaking populations and to maintain influence in what it calls the “near abroad.”

In our view, the most significant analytical takeaway from the study is its treatment of conflicts as a mode of great-power rivalry. The authors argue that this is central to conflict internationalization in the post-Soviet period. They note that during the Cold War, superpower rivalry produced proxy wars in which “the enemy of my enemy may become my friend.” In the post-Soviet space, this dynamic is re-emerging—not as a simple replay of the Cold War, but as a complex regional and global competition. NATO enlargement, EU enlargement, Russia’s claims to a sphere of influence, and, more recently, economic engagement with China create intersecting structures of rivalry in which conflicts in Georgia, Ukraine, and possibly Central Asia become arenas for competing external powers.

The network model proposed in the study points to promising research directions for scholars of the post-Soviet period. Systematic comparison of patterns of external support in post-Soviet conflicts could show how intervention strategies have evolved, whether external support is reactive or follows established criteria, and how regional powers (Turkey, Iran, China) are developing their roles in interventionist activity. The model’s attention to non-state supporters is especially relevant in post-Soviet contexts, where private military companies, militias, and transnational political networks provide support that state actors cannot or do not want to provide.

In addition, the authors’ emphasis on coalition-based support suggests studying how multilateral organizations operate in post-Soviet conflicts. The limited and selective activity of the CSTO, OSCE monitoring missions, and informal Western coordination mechanisms represent coalition dynamics distinct from UN or NATO peace operations examined in much of the internationalization literature. Understanding why some post-Soviet conflicts attract multilateral involvement while others remain bilateral or trilateral could shed light on the conditions that facilitate—or constrain—the escalation of internationalization.

The gaps in knowledge identified by the study—especially regarding non-state supporters, mechanisms of indirect support, and temporal dynamics—point to critical needs in the study of post-Soviet conflicts. Since the region remains a key arena in which the transformation of the global order manifests itself in violent conflicts, a careful, systematic analysis of internationalization patterns, drivers, and consequences becomes necessary both for academic understanding and for policymaking aimed at limiting conflicts and ultimately resolving them.

As is well known, Israel is one of three countries in the world—alongside Libya and Sierra Leone—that has no monarch and, at the same time, no constitution.

That is precisely why the topic of constitutional conventions, which have become a substantial part of Israeli political practice, is far from merely theoretical for us as Israeli researchers.

Constitutional conventions—generally unwritten rules grounded in actual practice that define, guide, and constrain the actions of constitutional actors—have long been regarded as an integral part of constitutional architecture in common-law countries. The British legal system, in particular, relies heavily on such conventions to bridge the gap between formal legal norms and political practice. Civil-law traditions, however—dominant in continental Europe and transplanted into the Soviet sphere—have historically resisted incorporating unwritten law into their constitutional frameworks.

The post-communist experience created a distinct environment and deepened this resistance—this is precisely the focus of the article “Exploring Constitutional Conventions in Central Europe and Their Relevance to the Comparative Debate”, prepared by David Kosař and Attila Vincze for The American Journal of Comparative Law.

The authors identify two layers of legal formalism that “strangled” the debate on constitutional conventions in post-Soviet Europe (the Warsaw Pact countries and the former Soviet republics): first, the German/Austrian legal tradition, which emphasizes codification, closed systems of legal sources, and legal certainty; and second, the Soviet legal legacy, marked by “vulgar Marxism,” which viewed law as an instrument of elite domination. This dual inheritance produced a constitutional culture deeply suspicious of unwritten norms—norms associated either with legal uncertainty (in the German tradition) or with arbitrariness (in the Soviet tradition). The research question, therefore, is as follows: can constitutional conventions emerge and function meaningfully in post-communist civil-law systems—and if so, under what conditions?

The authors analyze four models of constitutional-convention development.

Czech Republic: The Judiciary and Political Struggle
Among the Visegrad countries, the Czech Republic offers the most favorable environment for constitutional conventions. The Czech Constitutional Court has repeatedly recognized constitutional conventions as binding sources of law and has even treated them as justiciable. Notable cases include disputes over the president’s power to appoint the Governor of the Czech National Bank (2001) and judges (2008).

In the landmark Langer case, the Supreme Administrative Court ruled that a constitutional convention had formed requiring the president either to appoint judicial candidates recommended by the government or to issue reasoned individual decisions explaining any refusal on statutory grounds. This amounted to a significant judicial constraint on presidential discretion through recognition of unwritten constitutional norms.

However, this judicial recognition triggered fierce political disputes. President Miloš Zeman, as is well known, openly refused to abide by unwritten rules. This resistance culminated in Zeman’s deliberate non-compliance with judicial decisions—he never appointed Mr. Langer to the judicial post despite the court’s ruling, although some compensation was ultimately paid.

Isn’t this an experience so familiar to Israeli researchers?…

Thus, the Czech case reveals both the potential and the limits of constitutional conventions under post-communist conditions. Courts may recognize such conventions and attempt to enforce them, but their effectiveness ultimately depends on political actors’ willingness to comply—a willingness that cannot be guaranteed in systems with weak traditions of constitutional self-restraint.

Hungary: Theoretical Rejection and Practical Erosion
Hungary represents the opposite trajectory. As early as 1991, the Hungarian Constitutional Court explicitly rejected constitutional conventions, ruling that no conventions, customs, or memoranda could regulate politics, since that would contradict the very purpose of a written constitution. The Court adhered to what the authors call a naïve view: that the constitution is a “closed and complete system of rules,” to be interpreted exclusively by the Constitutional Court.

This rejection had profound consequences for the development of Hungarian constitutional law. First, it officially excluded customary or generally accepted norms from constitutional scholarship and from the sources of law. Second, it established a model in which the Constitutional Court was expected to resolve every political conflict through abstract constitutional interpretation—what Kim Lane Scheppele termed “juristocracy.”

All the more curious, the authors note, is that informal practices inevitably emerged in Hungarian constitutional life, especially regarding presidential powers, parliamentary procedures, and appointments to constitutional offices. Yet these practices remained theoretically underdeveloped and vulnerable to political manipulation.

Viktor Orbán’s consolidation of power since 2010 has effectively eliminated any limited role constitutional conventions might have played. With a two-thirds parliamentary majority enabling constitutional amendments at will, Orbán’s government demonstrated an instrumental approach to law that left no room for unwritten constitutional constraints. Hungary’s 2011 Fundamental Law clearly enumerates the sources of law and denies conventions any legal status, entrenching formalism while paradoxically enabling abuses of constitutional rights.

A telling example concerns the appointment of the Chief Justice. Although a long-established tradition required prior experience within the national judiciary, in 2019 this requirement was ignored to facilitate the appointment of András Varga, a political ally who lacked general judicial experience. The government justified this breach through strict textualism, arguing that no such requirement existed in formal legislation—demonstrating how a formalist legal culture can serve authoritarian ends.

Poland: Systematic Exclusion and the Rule of Recognition
Poland displays perhaps the most theoretically consistent rejection of constitutional conventions among the Visegrad countries. Article 87(1) of Poland’s 1997 Constitution explicitly lists the sources of universally binding law: “the Constitution, statutes, ratified international agreements, and regulations.” This explicit “rule of recognition” effectively closes the Polish legal system to unwritten sources of constitutional law.

This clear codification of legal sources reflected lessons drawn from the arbitrariness of the communist era. Under communist rule, loopholes in the sources of law were deliberately exploited, and post-1989 reformers sought to eliminate such ambiguity. Building mechanisms of constitutional review required clear constitutional norms, making the notion of constitutional custom too vague to serve as a legal basis for judicial decisions.

Nevertheless, some informal practices have formed, including the principle of discontinuity of parliamentary work, which requires that all matters not completed by parliament be closed at the end of a parliamentary term, despite the absence of any basis in written law. In addition, Polish presidents developed a practice of refusing to appoint judges in certain circumstances and of exercising sovereignty over the armed forces in ways not expressly authorized by the constitutional text.

However, these practices remain theoretically unrecognized and politically contested.

Slovakia: Scholarly Activity without Judicial Recognition
Slovakia occupies an intermediate position. Unlike Poland and Hungary, Slovakia’s constitution contains no explicit list of legal sources, which in theory leaves room for constitutional conventions. Slovak constitutional scholarship has increasingly turned to this concept, especially since the late 2010s, often drawing both on common-law literature and on Czech developments.

Yet this scholarly interest has not been reflected in judicial practice. Slovakia’s Constitutional Court has at times referred to “established practice” or “constitutional traditions” in interpreting constitutional provisions, but it has not engaged in an in-depth treatment of constitutional conventions or offered any systematic conceptualization of them. Slovakia’s ordinary courts have not addressed conventions at all.

Differences in approaches to constitutional conventions across the Visegrad countries present an analytical puzzle. All four countries share similar historical trajectories: before 1918 they were part of the Austro-Hungarian Empire; after World War II they lived under communist rule; they transitioned to democracy roughly in 1989–1993; and they joined the European Union in 2004. All inherited the formalism of the German legal tradition and the instrumental approach to law characteristic of the Soviet legacy. Nevertheless, their approaches to constitutional conventions differ substantially.

The authors propose four preliminary explanatory factors:

1. Constitutional rules of recognition
The presence or absence of explicit constitutional provisions enumerating the sources of law appears to be a decisive factor. Poland and Hungary, where permissible sources of law are explicitly listed (excluding conventions), display greater hostility toward unwritten constitutional norms. Article 87(1) of the Polish Constitution and Article T(1) of Hungary’s Fundamental Law create formal barriers to recognizing constitutional conventions as legally binding.

By contrast, the Czech and Slovak constitutions contain no such provisions, making their legal systems more open to unwritten sources. This openness has had side effects—particularly in the Czech Republic, where the 2013 Civil Code explicitly incorporates conventions and customs into civil and commercial law, potentially normalizing unwritten law more broadly within Czech legal culture.

2. Levels of majoritarianism
The degree of majoritarianism—that is, the extent to which a parliamentary majority can act without institutional constraints—significantly influences the development of constitutional conventions. Constitutional conventions tend to arise where political actors are required to cooperate and compromise, creating incentives to establish predictable rules of interaction.

3. Constitutional and political stability
The formation of constitutional conventions requires time and repeated practice. It also requires sufficient political stability for patterns of behavior to become entrenched and recognized as normatively binding.

The Czech Constitution of 1993 has remained virtually unchanged, apart from the introduction of direct presidential elections in 2013. This stability has allowed constitutional norms to solidify as accepted practice. Despite frequent changes of coalition governments, the political environment has preserved the fundamental democratic rules of the game.

By contrast, Hungary adopted an entirely new constitution in 2011, explicitly emphasizing a break with the previous regime. Poland adopted a new constitution in 1997 and experienced a constitutional collapse during the rule of the Law and Justice party (2015–2023). Slovakia amended its constitution twenty-four times, many of the amendments substantially altering the structure of government; it experienced semi-authoritarianism under Vladimír Mečiar in the 1990s and, more recently, democratic backsliding under Fico.

4. Individual actors and intellectual networks
The authors stress that “people may matter even more” than institutions. The education and intellectual orientations of influential constitutional scholars and judges shaped each country’s receptiveness to constitutional conventions.

Although this study focuses on one part of the post-Soviet space—Central European countries that were part of the former Soviet bloc—its conclusions have broader implications for understanding constitutional development across the entire post-Soviet region, including the states that emerged from the former Soviet republics.

The experience of the Visegrad Group demonstrates that constitutional conventions can play a meaningful role in democratic consolidation—but only under specific conditions. Where political systems require cooperation among multiple actors (low levels of majoritarianism), where constitutional and political stability allow practices to become entrenched, where legal systems remain open to unwritten norms, and where influential legal elites support such norms, constitutional conventions may become genuine constraints on power.

For post-Soviet democracies facing similar challenges—Azerbaijan, Armenia, Georgia, Moldova, Ukraine, and the Central Asian republics—this analysis leads to sobering conclusions. Constitutional conventions are unlikely to serve as reliable safeguards against democratic backsliding. They may function as useful adaptive mechanisms in relatively stable democratic settings, but they cannot substitute for strong formal constitutional provisions, independent institutions, and a political culture committed to constitutional restraint.