European Union enlargement is now unfolding at two different speeds and according to two very different logics. On the one hand, Montenegro, a small Balkan country, continues to move forward slowly but steadily along the classic accession path, closing chapters in line with established rules and regulations.
Ukraine, by contrast, still at war and without having completed the required technical and legal conditions, has raised the political stakes and is publicly setting entry dates that do not stem from EU procedures but from strategic and symbolic pressure on the European institutions.
The contrast between the two processes is not merely technical. It is deeply political and forces a fundamental question: does merit-based enlargement still exist, or is the door being opened to an exceptional model that undermines the credibility of the European project?
This Monday, the European Union and Montenegro provisionally closed Chapter 32 of the accession negotiations, covering financial control. The step was taken during the 25th Accession Conference, attended by representatives of the Cypriot Presidency of the Council, Enlargement Commissioner Marta Kos, and Montenegro’s Prime Minister, Milojko Spajić.
Montenegro has thus provisionally closed 13 chapters out of a total of 33, all of which were previously open. From Brussels, officials insist that Montenegro remains the “most advanced” candidate country and that, if it maintains the pace of reforms—particularly in the rule of law, the judiciary, and the fight against corruption—it could complete negotiations by the end of 2026, with possible membership around 2028.
Enlargement, the EU insists, remains a strategic priority, but it must be “credible and merit-based.” Indeed, the Council itself recalls that no chapter is considered definitively closed until the very end of the process and that any of them may be reopened if backsliding is detected. This is the classic script of European enlargement, applied for decades to Central and Eastern European countries and, more recently, to the Western Balkans.
Ukraine and the politics of dates
Ukraine’s case operates on an entirely different terrain. President Volodymyr Zelensky has repeatedly stated in recent weeks that his country should be “technically ready” for accession in 2027 and has even asked for that date to be enshrined as a political commitment in a future peace agreement. In practice, the message conveyed to public opinion is that Ukraine will “join the EU next year”, a formulation that simplifies—if not distorts—the reality of the process.
Although Kyiv has obtained candidate status and launched the negotiating framework, the Commission itself acknowledges that Ukraine is not in a position, in the short term, to comply with all chapters of the EU acquis, particularly in areas such as competition, budgetary control, agricultural policy, or free movement. Added to this are the realities of war, an economy heavily dependent on external aid, and structural corruption problems that Brussels continues to highlight in its reports.
Despite this, open discussions are taking place in EU circles about the possibility of accelerated or “differentiated” accession, with intermediate formulas that would grant Ukraine partial access to EU policies and funds before it fully meets the obligations of a member state.
The comparison with Montenegro is inevitable and has irritated both member states and candidate countries, given how the process appears to run counter to the very essence of the European Union. While a small country with no geopolitical weight and no strategic leverage advances chapter by chapter over more than a decade, Ukraine is proposing political timelines that do not correspond to the traditional enlargement method.
From Brussels’ perspective, the difference is justified by the security context: Ukraine is presented as an “exceptional case,” whose integration is framed as part of Europe’s broader security architecture vis-à-vis Russia. Yet this argument comes at a cost. Creating shortcuts for some while demanding strict discipline from others weakens the narrative of an EU governed by rules rather than ad hoc decisions.
Moreover, the precedent is a delicate one. Other candidate countries—in the Balkans and in Eastern Europe—are watching with growing scepticism a process in which technical compliance appears to be taking a back seat to political urgency.


