As governments across Europe tighten control over civil society, many disability rights organisations are rethinking how to stay active without losing their voice in policy debates or public discourse. In his recent CIVICA Short Visit to the EUI, Gabor Petri, Postdoctoral Fellow at the Central European University (CEU), discussed findings from his research on how disability movements navigate changing and eroding democratic structures in Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, and Serbia. In this conversation, he reflects on the evolving strategies of disability organisations and the absence of disability studies in mainstream political science.
Your study shows that disability rights organisations in countries facing democratic erosion often practise self-censorship and avoid open confrontation with governments. How do your findings help us understand the everyday strategies these organisations use to remain active and relevant in such political environments?
Our research shows that the strategies of disability rights organisations are never static. These organisations constantly adapt to political realities and must balance advocacy with survival. In more open political climates, they can campaign publicly for disability rights through demonstrations, petitions, or awareness events. But, in more repressive settings, they often take less confrontational approaches; for example, they speak with governments in private meetings but avoid criticising them in public.
When we talk about social movement campaigns today, we shouldn’t think only of street actions. In recent decades, civil society organisations have also gained ground in more formal consultations with governments, through advisory boards or regular policy meetings. In liberal democracies, such channels are often institutionalised, but when democracy weakens, these avenues start to close. They can become ‘pretend’ platforms.
What we found is that changes in democratic structures directly shape how disability movements operate. As populist governments restrict civic space, disability organisations must rethink how they mobilise, find resources, and maintain access to policymakers.
There’s another important point. We have limited data on disability movements, because disability is largely missing from mainstream political science and social movement research. Open any textbook and you’ll find chapters on labour, feminist, or environmental movements, but disability rights are barely mentioned. Our research helps fill that gap by showing that when democracy erodes, disability movements are among those affected, both in visibility and in their ability to influence policy, but disability is also different; for example, illiberal governments like to demonstrate their commitment to disability-related issues like accessibility.
Looking at the cases of Bulgaria, Hungary, Romania, and Serbia, what similarities and differences did you observe in how disability movements adapt to conditions of democratic erosion? Are there particular national contexts where new forms of mobilisation or advocacy have emerged?
Each country is a distinct case, so it’s risky to treat Central and Eastern Europe as a single unit. Still, these countries share a common past shaped by state socialism, which left a deep mark on how disability is perceived. Under socialism, disabled people were largely segregated – educated in special schools, employed in sheltered workshops, and often placed in residential institutions. In public culture, disability was almost invisible, or framed only as personal tragedy rather than a social issue.
So yes, these countries are connected through history, but today the disability movements operate under very different conditions. Our research found that movements are most affected in countries where democratic backsliding is strongest, particularly Hungary and Serbia. In these contexts, many organisations practise self-censorship: they may criticise government policies privately but avoid doing so publicly, fearing the loss of access to government officials, influence in policy discussions, or potential funding. Some still speak out through independent media, but others rely on closed-door communication with officials.
Where democratic institutions remain somewhat more pluralistic, the picture is more mixed. In Romania, for example, we saw that local or regional authorities can sometimes compensate for national-level restrictions. Even if central governments are hostile or unresponsive, disability organisations can still find allies in municipalities or county councils that support human rights initiatives. These local relationships can help sustain activism and preserve space for advocacy.
Given current political trends in Central and Eastern Europe, how do you see the field of disability studies contributing to the broader defence of democratic values and human rights in the region?
That’s an excellent question – though I’d start by asking why political science doesn’t take disability studies seriously in the first place. In most countries, disability studies barely exist as an academic field. Even in the UK, with one of the largest higher education systems in the world, there are only a handful of departments dedicated to it. In much of Europe, it’s represented by a few scholars in scattered departments who have little visibility within the social sciences.
But disability is not just a discipline. It is a human experience that everyone encounters in some way, either personally or through family and friends. Disability movements have politicised that experience for decades. Even in state socialist countries, organisations in the 1970s and 80s pushed governments to take their voices seriously. Yet here we are in 2025, still asking why disability is missing from the study of democracy.
One reason is the historic exclusion of disabled people from political and academic elites. There are very few openly disabled figures in leadership positions. It is almost as if political competence leaves no room for disability. Cultural narratives also remain focused on individual tragedy, rather than seeing disability as a social issue, as both the UN and national laws now do.
Disabled people are also underrepresented in social movements. Many demonstrations or political actions are not physically or structurally accessible to disabled participants. Something as basic as providing sign language interpretation at demonstrations only became common in the past decade. Representation in leadership roles is equally limited.
In academia, barriers persist at every level: many disabled people never reach higher education because schools exclude them early on, universities remain physically inaccessible, and research funding rarely prioritises disability. Scholars working in this field often face scepticism, as if studying disability were too narrow or marginal to be taken seriously. All of these factors help explain why political science continues to overlook disability, and why this gap still matters so much.
CIVICA and the EUI have been fostering dialogue on democracy and inclusion across European institutions. From your visit, what role do you think civic and academic networks like these can play in strengthening disability research and connecting it to broader discussions on democracy and human rights?
I see real potential for initiatives like CIVICA to make a difference. There’s an opportunity to bring together researchers who work on disability in different disciplines and contexts. For instance, the EUI has historians studying disability movements, while the London School of Economics has strong expertise in social policy and civil society. At CEU’s Democracy Institute, our focus is on public policy and democratic governance. Connecting these efforts through a thematic call or joint initiative could start building a shared research community around disability and democracy.
Last year, we actually organised a CIVICA-supported workshop with several partner universities on disability and policy change. It brought together very diverse perspectives: from family-level research on the employment effects of caring for disabled children to comparative studies on disability movements in Europe. Exchanges like this show how collaboration across institutions can reframe how we think about disability, which can inform current research.
What were the key experiences or insights you gained during your visit to the EUI?
My visit was supported by the CIVICA Short Visits Scheme and hosted by EUI Professor Monica Baar, with whom I’ve collaborated before, along with Max Weber Fellow Elisa Heinrich, who works on disability and feminist movements. I gave two seminars: one on disability rights and democratic erosion in Central and Eastern Europe, and another on how disability studies can enrich other disciplines through participatory approaches and inclusive research design.
The discussions were very encouraging. Participants came from history and political science, some already familiar with disability studies, others completely new to it. What struck me was their openness – several said the participatory approach engrained in disability studies gave them new ideas for involving research participants and for challenging the assumption that disability is purely a welfare or social care issue.
For example, many people initially think of disability only in terms of social services or statistical data, such as the number of blind people in a country. Disability studies encourage a different understanding. It highlights that disability is a human experience – temporary or permanent – that affects us physically, mentally, and socially. Disability is political even if we tend to forget it is. Disability politics affect everyone, and disability policies are not just for disabled people. The UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities does not fix a single definition of disability, which allows for flexibility and adaptation. This approach gives hope: when advocating for better inclusion in universities like EUI or CEU, one can point to temporary challenges we all face, like recovering from surgery, to show the importance of accessible and inclusive policies. Robust disability policies benefit everyone, not only those with disabilities.
Gabor Petri is a Postdoctoral Researcher at the CEU Democracy Institute. He received his PhD at the University of Kent, Tizard Centre in 2019, where his research explored the position of self-advocates in the learning disability and autism advocacy movement. With over 25 years of experience in the disability field, Gabor has held various positions at disability rights organisations both in Hungary and in the EU. His research interests include post-socialist disability policies, the disabled people’s movement, disability human rights, mental health policies, the use of EU Structural Funds, and community-based services.
The CIVICA Faculty Short Visits Scheme is organised in the framework of CIVICA – The European University of Social Sciences, funded by the European Union. The Faculty Short Visit Scheme allows faculty and postdoctoral researchers in CIVICA universities to do short 2–5-day visits at another CIVICA partner university.
CIVICA brings together ten leading European higher education institutions in the social sciences, humanities, business management and public policy, with a total of 72,000 students and 13,000 faculty members. Together, they build on an ever-stronger combination of teaching research and innovation to mobilise and share knowledge as a public good and to facilitate civic responsibility in Europe and beyond.
Photo credits: European Network On Independent Living, 2024.