Ukraine is under attack. The standard interpretation, or so it goes, is that so is the rest of the free world (i.e. understood as the Western liberal democratic alliance). Commentators might scoff at the wanton intentions of Putin, pile opprobrium upon him for violating international norms, or—following in the rhetorical footsteps of the audacious Ukrainian Permanent Representative to the United Nations—argue that the only place dictators go after waging extensive wars abroad is Hell, not Purgatory.
Yet, it’s been mere days since Putin began the military offensive, and what do we see? What concrete steps have been taking to realistically halt, deter, or put an end to the crazed charge of Russian troops? Many of these troops are conscripts roped into fighting a bloody battle against their will, against their cousins and brothers on the other side of the borders, against their own conscience, and families’ wishes—for even the most zealously nationalist Russian families would not want to see their own kin perish in Donetsk and Luhansk. What are we, the West, as the self-anointed vanguards of democracy, doing in the aftermath of the tiger’s charge beyond empty pontification?
The EU has rallied in speech, in gestures, and in the imposing of sanctions. Yet sanctions do little to curb the influence of Putin and his inner ring of kleptocrats. Sanctions only embolden them as they, and only they, come to control the very assets and resources that motivate and mobilise the rest of the Russian elite circles. Elite fragmentation and defection is a tempting and wishful thought, but unless sanctions are so structural, so systemic, and so dispersed that even the furthest corners of Russia and every segment of the Russian population is affected, such sanctions would have limited effects on the Kremlin’s avaricious appetite for more war, more land, and more power.
However, beyond these actions, there is little that will likely be done. First, NATO’s capacity and resources are over-stretched, with a battlefront that is far too expansive and extensive for genuine military intervention to work. The Americans are war-shy. The French are too busy waging their internal wars over the mask mandates and the upcoming Presidential Elections. Germany is busy talking itself into thinking that China poses a greater threat than Russia. The United Kingdom, which has demonstrated considerably more gumption and audacity than its counterparts, is buckling under the weight of domestic political factionalism. Thankfully, Boris has exhibited some sense in his pursuit of pre-emptive freezing of the accounts of wealthy Russian oligarchs—a move which is long overdue. Yet, we must be equally wary of such acts being wielded by populists to justify exhaustive, ineffective bans against any and all ethnic Russians.
The West has no solutions, no answers, and no strategy. It just has tactics—lots and lots of tactics designed to help countries shirk their burdens in relation to the NATO defense budget, or the broader commitments that NATO supposedly has towards the Baltic states and beyond. Apologists want to frame this crisis as a reaction to NATO expansion. But if we are honest here, the issue isn’t with NATO expansion, it’s with the fact that NATO lacked acumen and precision in how it expanded. Either it should have opened itself up more firmly and completely, in embracing and erecting a line of defense so robust that Russia dared not invade, or it ought to have kept to a more modest vision of defending core European members whilst insisting (albeit, cruelly) that the chasm between NATO and Russia remained as a neutral buffer zone. In practice, NATO opted for neither—and that was the problem.
Second, Russia has clearly embraced a tri-pronged, blitzkrieg approach to the war on Ukraine. The focus has never been to merely employ shock and awe. The objective has always been the comprehensive and structural overthrowing of a regime that is, whilst imperfect at parts, democratically elected. Russia wants a reunification of what it terms to be its Mother Nation, rooted in a vague ethnonationalist, historical understanding of territorial boundaries that is borderline fanatical and definitely dubious. And, unlike China, Russia is prepared to go to war with no heed paid to the economic devastation and financial costs of its actions. China wants to be “in” with the world on trade, finance, and beyond—even though it lacks the articulateness and gall to make these goals clear. Russia, on the other hand, has nothing more to lose.
Third, the West has gotten Russia fundamentally wrong. How did we get here? How did we not realise the extent of Putin’s thirst for conquest, division, and the sowing of unrest. How could it be that, despite interference in the 2016 US elections and Brexit referendum, despite the poisoning that occurred on British soil, we remained so blissfully oblivious towards the perils of “engaging” Russia? For one, we have always seen Russia as a decrepit, dilapidated power in the aftermath of the Cold War—such is the hubris of assuming the alleged inevitability of liberal democracy. For another, many have jumped on the bandwagon, especially the American GOP and the hawkish wings of the UK Conservative Party, of painting China as a greater threat when, in practice, both China and Russia alike govern their territories and peoples using rules that are vastly different from the way we do things here in the West. They are, after all, authoritarian regimes. We may want to condemn China for its internal governance and policies all we like. But in doing so, we seem to have conveniently forgotten a far more imminent and erratic threat: Russia. We are collectively responsible for the ignorance that sowed the rise of Putin’s kleptocratic, diabolical regime. Our hands are bloodied, but we remain wide-eyed, feigning innocence with our virtue signalling.
At times like these, I am reminded of a line from Tim O’Brien’s The Things They Carried, a terrific novella that captures the horrors of the Vietnam War:
“But in a story, which is a kind of dreaming, the dead sometimes smile and sit up and return to the world.”
The death of realism and common sense, precipitated and aided by the hubris of a selective brand of neoconservatism, will return to haunt us all. It has already done so. And the costs have been laid bare for all to see.