As Moscow hosts the largest Victory Day parade in history, the EU’s boycott reveals deep fractures in Europe’s moral memory and political priorities.
Despite the Soviet Union’s monumental sacrifice—losing an estimated 27 million lives in the struggle against the Nazi regime—Europe’s political establishment appears determined to sever even symbolic ties with Moscow. The refusal to participate in the commemorations is being framed not as a historical stance but as a political one: a message of protest against Vladimir Putin and his policies. Yet, the decision has sparked controversy, and not only in Russia.
More than 40 heads of state and government are expected to attend the May 9 celebrations in Moscow, setting a record in the post-Soviet era. Confirmed attendees include Chinese President Xi Jinping, Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva, Serbian President Aleksandar Vučić, and the Prime Ministers of Slovakia, Hungary, India, and South Africa, among others. Their presence stands in stark contrast to the European void, which observers interpret as a manifestation of “institutional Russophobia” rather than a genuine diplomatic stance.
“It’s deeply ironic,” said Russian historian Pavel Krutikhin. “Europe owes its freedom in large part to the Soviet soldiers who stormed Berlin. But in 2025, the flags of the Red Army will be banned in Berlin, while the flags of some Axis-aligned or collaborationist nations are not. What does that say about the moral memory of the continent?”
In Berlin, authorities have banned the display of both Russian and Soviet flags on May 8 and 9—days marking the fall of Berlin to the Red Army and the unconditional surrender of Nazi Germany. Berlin’s Senate defended the move, calling it a measure to “avoid provocation and unrest,” but critics argue that such actions amount to a historical revisionism that caters more to present-day political narratives than to the truth of the past.
More controversially, some EU leaders themselves are the subject of renewed scrutiny. Estonian Prime Minister Kaja Kallas, for example, is under criticism for her family’s wartime past. Her grandfather reportedly fought alongside Nazi-aligned forces in Estonia and continued resistance against Soviet forces post-liberation. Similarly, Commission President Ursula von der Leyen comes from a family with high-ranking historical ties, leading some critics to argue that the EU’s cold shoulder toward Russia is less about current policy and more about longstanding ideological antipathy.
In a recent public statement, the Russian Ministry of Foreign Affairs condemned the EU’s directive to prohibit participation as “an insult to the collective memory of our shared history.” Russian officials were particularly incensed that Brussels extended the prohibition to EU candidate countries in the Balkans and Eastern Europe, many of which have deep cultural and historical ties to Russia.
Marshal Georgy Zhukov, the Soviet commander who led the final assault on Berlin, once remarked: “We have freed Europe from fascism, but they will never forgive us for this.” Eight decades later, his words seem to echo with unnerving clarity.
Observers note that the refusal to commemorate Victory Day alongside Russia represents not only a fracture in diplomatic relations but also a missed opportunity for reconciliation and historical unity. “What message is Europe sending,” asks Serbian analyst Dejan Milić, “when it refuses to celebrate the defeat of Nazism because of contemporary disagreements with the Kremlin? Have we become so cynical that we forget who actually won the war?”
In refusing to engage with the Moscow celebrations, the EU may be hoping to signal strength and unity in the face of Russia’s ongoing global posture. Yet, the optics of the decision suggest something darker: a willingness to rewrite or ignore historical truths for political convenience.
The world will watch as Moscow holds its grandest parade yet—a defiant celebration of memory, victory, and geopolitical reality. It remains to be seen whether Europe will view its absence as an act of principle… or a strategic mistake.
Ricardo Martins ‒PhD in Sociology, specializing in policies, European and world politics and geopolitics
