This isn’t principled neutrality or brave anti-war positioning. It’s political theatre designed to exploit domestic grievances whilst Slovak arms manufacturers reap unprecedented profits from Ukraine’s desperate need for guns and ammunition. Understanding this paradox is crucial for anyone seeking to support Ukraine’s resistance against Russian imperialism—not to praise Fico’s “pragmatism,” but to expose the hollowness of his supposed anti-war stance and to grapple with the legitimate frustrations his rhetoric exploits.

The Rhetoric: Playing to Pro-Russian Sentiment

Fico’s anti-Ukraine positioning isn’t accidental—it’s carefully calibrated to tap into genuine frustrations and fears of the Slovak population. Russian disinformation has found fertile ground here, with only 40% of Slovaks now blaming Russia for the invasion, down from 51% just a year earlier. However, this isn’t really about historical pan-Slavic sentiments. Russian disinformation and propaganda campaigns are only part of the story. Like in other Central European countries, the declining support for Ukraine mostly reflects quite understandable resentment towards Western institutions.

Understanding the Roots of Anti-Western Sentiment

Last year, the DEKK institute [1] published a report on distrust in the “system” in Slovakia. The authors’ conclusion deserves careful attention: “The Slovak anti-system is not pro-Russian – it is anti-Western. It rejects the Western and ’systemic’ narrative, and thus logically reaches for alternatives. And these are now, among other things, also (pro)Russian by coincidence. But the average Slovak does not want more Russia in his life – he wants less of the West. And less of the West, in his understanding, means a less cruel and more egalitarian economic system, stronger rights for the majority, more comprehensible political decision-making, less complicated and bureaucratised interaction with the state, and a more community-oriented and solidary lifestyle.” [2]

These grievances reflect real harms. Western neoliberal policies have damaged Slovak workers’ livelihoods and communities. The country’s NATO accession in 2004 occurred without a referendum, denying citizens democratic input on a fundamental security question. EU membership has brought benefits but also imposed austerity measures and economic restructuring that concentrated wealth whilst leaving many communities behind. The 2008 financial crisis and subsequent eurozone crisis hit Slovakia hard, with ordinary people bearing the costs of a system they had little voice in shaping.

For the internationalist left, this presents a critical challenge: how do we acknowledge these legitimate grievances without falling into pro-Russian positions that would simply replace one imperialism with another? The answer isn’t to choose between Washington and Moscow, but to build solidarity with those resisting oppression from all directions—including Ukrainians fighting for their sovereignty and Slovaks struggling for economic justice.

The Numbers Tell a Story

The public opinion data reveals how successfully Fico has weaponised these sentiments. Some 69% of Slovaks believe providing military equipment “provokes Russia and brings Slovakia closer to war,” while Fico and his cronies manage an unparalelled expansion in the country’s private arms industry. Support for Ukraine’s EU and NATO membership stands at just 30%—the lowest in the region. Over 40% feel their values and identity are threatened by Ukrainian refugees, with 44% believing refugees are making the country worse—the highest level of resentment amongst EU nations.

Fico has expertly exploited these attitudes. His September 2025 declaration that “the main goal of our foreign policy is not Russia’s defeat but the quickest possible end to the war” deliberately echoes Kremlin talking points about “Slavs killing each other.” His Moscow visits—making him only the third EU leader to meet Putin since the invasion—provide Russia with crucial diplomatic legitimacy whilst allowing Fico to posture as an independent actor defying Brussels.

The refugee policy represents particularly cynical brinkmanship. Fico’s January 2025 threats to cut humanitarian aid to 136,000 Ukrainian refugees over gas transit disputes remain unimplemented, but they create real fear and diplomatic pressure. These are human beings being used as bargaining chips in energy negotiations.

The Reality: A Booming War Economy

Fico’s “non-aligned” performance collapses under scrutiny: whilst Fico blocks state military aid, Slovakia has become one of Europe’s unlikely weapons manufacturing hubs under his government. The numbers are staggering: Slovakia’s arms exports exploded to €1.15 billion in 2023—a tenfold increase from 2021’s €100 million, representing 1.1% of GDP and rivalling the United States’ export percentage.

Private Profits, Public Posturing

Major Slovak companies continue producing crucial weapons systems for Ukraine. Konštrukta Defence manufactures Zuzana 2 howitzers. MSM Group and ZVS Holding produce hundreds of thousands of 155mm artillery shells annually—precisely the ammunition Ukraine desperately needs to defend against Russian artillery superiority. Slovak production capacity has been steadily increasing throughout Fico’s tenure, with 2024 output thought to be 150,000 rounds, and 2025 even higher.

Fico’s government actively encourages these private exports whilst blocking state aid to Ukraine. As Defence Minister Robert Kaliňák cynically acknowledged: “We said before and after the elections that we would not restrict defence companies because we need economic growth.” This is naked capitalism—profiting from Ukraine’s suffering whilst pretending to oppose “warmongering.” Former Defence Minister Jaroslav Naď [3] even launched his own company selling ammunition to Ukraine after leaving office, highlighting how the supposed divide between Fico’s “anti-war” coalition and the “pro-Ukraine” opposition dissolves when profits are involved.

The Military-Industrial Consensus

Whilst the conservative and liberal opposition parties accuse Fico and his cronies of corruption, they do not oppose the massive growth in the arms industry itself. They also agree with Fico that Slovakia should be compensated for the end of its lucrative role as a transit country for Russian gas piped via Ukraine. The military-industrial complex transcends supposed political differences—what varies is merely the rhetorical packaging.

The Slovak political scene does not divide between “pro-Ukraine democrats” and “pro-Russian authoritarians.” The arms manufacturers win regardless of which coalition governs.

Third-Party Financing and EU Constraints

The third-party financing arrangements reveal the sophistication of Slovakia’s role as what some analysts call a “situational ally.” Denmark, Germany, and Norway financed €92 million for 16 Zuzana 2 howitzers produced by Slovak companies for Ukraine—the largest foreign contract in Slovak arms industry history. Slovakia also secured 15 Leopard 2 tanks from Germany in exchange for providing 30 BMP-1 infantry vehicles to Ukraine. These arrangements allow Slovakia to maintain weapons production without direct budgetary commitment.

EU and NATO institutional frameworks constrain Fico’s room for manœuvre. Slovakia remains obligated to participate in the €50 billion EU Ukraine Facility and contributes to NATO’s comprehensive assistance package. The country hosts 1,200+ NATO troops and maintains 2.3% of GDP defence spending—well above NATO requirements. EU unanimity requirements on sanctions forced Slovakia to lift its veto on the 18^th sanctions package in July 2025 after weeks of resistance.

Slovakia participates in the European Defence Agency’s joint ammunition procurement programme worth €2 billion across member states, embedding Slovak companies in broader European defence supply chains. The country received €66.5 million in EU funding for Ukrainian refugee integration and continues electricity exports to Ukraine.

These binding frameworks explain why Fico’s rhetoric about “pacifism” and “non-alignment” remains hollow performance. He’s floated vague ideas about leaving NATO and the EU but never proposed concrete withdrawal. His “pacifism” means selling weapons to Ukraine whilst respecting EU sanctions against Russia—hardly the principled neutrality he claims.

In October 2025, after nearly two years of refusing state aid, Fico finally announced Slovakia would transfer five Božena demining machines and medical equipment—framed as “humanitarian” rather than military aid. This carefully choreographed resumption of military aid with a focus on demining allows Fico to claim he’s softening his stance whilst avoiding meaningful policy change.

Public Opinion: Contested Terrain

Is pro-Russian sentiment in Slovakia inevitable or reversible? The data suggests complex, contested terrain. NATO support actually rebounded to approximately 70% in early 2024 after dropping to 58% in 2023—the decline occurred before Fico’s return, and support has recovered somewhat under his government. Whilst many Slovaks are unhappy with NATO (which the country entered without a referendum), nobody has yet proposed a credible non-aligned or neutral strategy for the country of 5.5 million bordering Ukraine.

The refugee issue shows clearer erosion of sympathies for Ukraine, with negative attitudes rising from 52% in September 2022 to 44% believing refugees make the country worse by March 2023. The December 2024 parliamentary approval of assistance reductions reflects and reinforces these attitudes. Yet 136,000+ Ukrainian refugees remain in Slovakia, and private Slovak citizens have independently raised €5 million for Ukrainian ammunition, suggesting civil society support transcends government rhetoric.

Mass Protests and Democratic Resistance

The January-March 2025 mass protests—amongst the largest in Slovakia’s modern history—demonstrate significant resistance to Fico’s Russia tilt. Over 100,000 people demonstrated across 30 cities, rejecting Fico’s Moscow visits and pro-Russian positioning. Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelenskyy’s message of support (“Bratislava is not Moscow. Slovakia is Europe”) resonated with protesters who see their future in European integration, not Russian influence. Opposition parties lead in recent polling, suggesting Fico’s strategy may have electoral limits.

However, these demonstrations mostly attract supporters of conservative and liberal opposition parties. The left remains largely absent from these mobilisations, creating a dangerous vacuum. Without a progressive alternative that addresses both the legitimate economic grievances and the threat of Russian imperialism, the debate becomes trapped between neoliberal “Atlanticism” and nationalist “sovereigntism”—neither of which serves working people’s interests.

Russian disinformation remains the crucial variable. Moscow has successfully invested in local “influencers,” social media, and far-right parties. Key narratives portray Russia as victim and protector of traditional values whilst presenting critics as “Russophobes.” The penetration of these narratives since 2014 has been remarkably effective, exploiting the ideological vacuum created by the left’s weakness.

Comparing Fico and Orbán: Pragmatism Versus Ideology

Western analysis often lumps Fico with Hungary’s Viktor Orbán. Both oppose Ukraine NATO membership and maintain Russian energy ties, but the comparison obscures important differences. Fico appears pragmatically motivated by domestic politics rather than ideologically committed to Russia. Unlike Orbán’s consistent support for Moscow, Fico condemned the Russian invasion initially and supports Ukraine’s EU accession despite his rhetoric.

The September 2025 Uzhhorod meeting between Fico and Zelenskyy—where they agreed to bilateral cooperation and Fico confirmed Slovakia would “stand with Ukraine in peace efforts”—suggests Fico has stepped back from full alignment with Orbán. Foreign policy experts describe Fico as a “rhetorical maximalist, policy moderate” who delivers enough concrete anti-Ukraine actions to satisfy his base whilst avoiding complete EU isolation.

Orbán has built an ideological project around “illiberal democracy” and explicit Russian alignment. Fico’s project is more opportunistic—exploiting anti-Western sentiment for electoral advantage whilst maintaining the institutional ties and economic relationships that benefit Slovak capital. This makes Fico perhaps more cynical than Orbán, but also potentially more constrained by material interests and coalition dynamics.

Fico’s performance allows him to exploit both sides: claiming anti-war credentials domestically whilst maintaining weapons exports and EU/NATO membership benefits. It’s the worst of both worlds—providing diplomatic cover to Russia through his rhetoric whilst local oligarchs profit from Ukraine’s military needs.

Democratic Backsliding and Authoritarian Drift

Whilst institutional frameworks limit Fico’s policy damage on Ukraine, his genuine harms to Slovak democracy shouldn’t be minimised. His two Moscow visits provided Putin with propaganda victories and diplomatic legitimacy, even as Slovak factories continued producing shells for Ukrainian forces.

Fico’s response to the mass protests reveals authoritarian tendencies that should alarm anyone committed to democratic values. Citing a secret intelligence report, he alleged without evidence that opposition organisers were coordinating with foreign entities to engineer a “coup,” planning to occupy government buildings and provoke clashes with police. Critics noted the intelligence service is headed by the son of Fico’s close party associate who faces charges of misusing police for political purposes.

The government has moved to take greater control over media, abolished the Special Prosecutor’s Office dealing with corruption, and proposed constitutional amendments to assert national law primacy over EU law, whilst limiting LGBTQ+ rights and children’s access to sex education. This democratic backsliding follows the pattern of Orbán’s Hungary, threatening Slovakia’s position as a functioning liberal democracy.

Fico’s declaration that Ukraine is “not sovereign” because it’s “under total influence and control of the United States” parrots Kremlin propaganda whilst delegitimising Ukraine’s agency. His characterisation of the war as simply “Slavs killing each other” erases Russian imperialism and Ukrainian resistance. These rhetorical choices have real consequences, poisoning public discourse and providing cover for apathy towards Ukraine’s struggle.

These constraints depend on continued institutional pressure and coalition stability—both currently under strain. Fico’s coalition partner, the far-right Slovak National Party (SNS), withdrew support in January 2025, creating a government crisis that was only resolved through cabinet reshuffles in March. The government clings to a thin majority, vulnerable to defections.

Militarisation: The Unspoken Reality

Discussions of “militarisation” in Slovakia reveal telling contradictions. Whilst 67% of the public don’t want US troops specifically on Slovak soil, and 45% oppose NATO troops generally, the country continues to host 1,200+ NATO soldiers and maintains defence spending well above alliance requirements. Slovakia participates in NATO military exercises without significant domestic opposition.

The reality is that Slovakia’s defence industry represents significant economic opportunity. The tenfold increase in arms exports under Fico demonstrates how “pacifist” rhetoric coexists with militarisation when profits are involved. Slovak companies are fully integrated into NATO supply chains, producing ammunition compatible across alliance systems and supplying Baltic states, Poland, and even the United States.

Conclusion: The Contradictions and the Way Forward

Robert Fico’s Slovakia exposes the cynical intersection of right-wing populism, nationalist rhetoric, and capitalist profit. His government exploits legitimate anti-Western sentiment—rooted in real economic grievances and democratic deficits—to maintain power, whilst simultaneously enabling unprecedented arms industry profits. This isn’t an aberration; it’s a pattern increasingly common amongst European right-wing populists who weaponise anti-establishment rhetoric whilst serving elite interests.

The fundamental contradiction is clear: Fico claims to oppose “warmongering” and Western imperialism whilst his government presides over a tenfold increase in weapons exports. He threatens Ukrainian refugees whilst Slovak companies produce the shells Ukraine desperately needs. He visits Moscow for propaganda purposes whilst respecting EU sanctions and maintaining NATO commitments. This calculated ambiguity serves no one’s interests except his own electoral prospects and Slovak arms manufacturers’ balance sheets.

For the international left, Slovakia’s paradox offers crucial lessons. First, we cannot cede opposition to Western institutions to the far right. The grievances Fico exploits—about neoliberal policies, undemocratic EU decision-making, NATO interventions and strategies —are real and justified. When progressives fail to articulate an alternative that addresses these concerns, right-wing nationalists fill the vacuum with rhetoric that sounds anti-establishment but ultimately serves capital.

Second, we must reject false binaries. The choice isn’t between uncritical support for NATO expansion and accommodation of Russian imperialism. Genuine anti-imperialism requires opposing both—supporting Ukrainian self-determination against Russian aggression and challenging the military-industrial complex that profits from the conflict. The conservative and liberal opposition’s failure to question arms industry growth, even whilst attacking Fico’s corruption, shows how mainstream politics offers no escape from militarisation.

Third, the military-industrial complex operates regardless of partisan divides. Whether Fico’s coalition or the liberal opposition governs, Slovak weapons manufacturers profit from Ukraine’s needs. The arms industry doesn’t care about political rhetoric; it cares about contracts and profits. Challenging this requires moving beyond elections between competing elite factions towards building movements that can contest the power of capital itself.

Finally, addressing legitimate economic grievances without falling into nationalism requires articulating a positive vision of internationalism. Slovaks and Ukrainians share common interests with all those in the borderlands of the EU and Russian economic blocs. Building that solidarity—rather than competition over resources or identity—is the progressive alternative to Fico’s cynical manipulation.

Fico’s calculated ambiguity will likely continue as long as it serves his political survival and satisfies Slovak capital’s profit imperatives. Opposing this requires more than defending existing Western institutions; it requires building a left politics that can address people’s real needs whilst maintaining principled solidarity with those resisting imperialism in all its forms. Slovakia’s paradox reveals not just Fico’s hypocrisy, but the exhaustion of a political framework that offers only competing forms of subordination. The task ahead is constructing genuine alternatives.