Once again, there is crisis in Ukraine. Russia, that perennial malcontent, has been steadily augmenting its military forces near the Ukrainian border all year. The situation escalated into broad public attention, however, when aerial photographs dramatically revealed that an army of around 175,000 had been assembled, well-stocked with equipment and medical supplies. Frantic headlines warned of an imminent Russian invasion of Ukraine. President Biden video called President Putin in an attempt to resolve the situation. Officials across the continent traded diplomatic threats. At the moment, there is an uneasy equilibrium, and it is unclear what will happen next.
Here, I will not provide an extensive account of what has happened, and what continues to happen. Nor will I relate the background of current events, although that is a rich story. Instead, I want to examine the current Ukraine crisis with a wide-angle lens, looking back a little but mostly looking ahead, and share five observations on what Ukraine teaches and why it matters.
Let’s proceed, and in no particular order.
One, there are important blind spots in Western foreign policy. By ‘blind spots,’ I mean that there are critical regions in the geopolitical landscape where the West lacks obvious strategic interest and influence. Ukraine is a perfect example of this: outside of NATO and the EU, it isn’t obvious what our Ukrainian policy should be, or even whether we could significantly shape events on the ground if we tried. We might make vague appeals to sovereignty and human rights, but we lack any tangible leverage. In such cases, the West appears strangely impotent and indecisive. Moreover, the lack of action calls into question the high idealism and universalist vision of Western international rhetoric since the end of the Cold War.
Of course, Ukraine is not the first example of, shall we say, ‘limited’ Western foreign policymaking since 1989. Nor is it some great watershed in the balance of power. But it does punctuate with startling clarity a lesson we should have learned a while ago: despite the best of intentions, we cannot protect or preserve all places, nor do we necessarily want to. The important thing now is to identify our other blind spots and decide whether we are happy for them to remain blind spots (Taiwan comes to mind, maybe Kurdistan and Xinjiang too).
Two, the actions and priorities of Putin’s Russia cannot be understood as merely pseudo-Soviet expansionism. Ok, so I’m borrowing this point from a great NYT piece. But it is true, especially in the case of Ukraine. Because, while Soviet Russia certainly cared about Ukraine as one of the most productive and resource-rich Soviet Republics, the relationship between the two countries goes deeper than that. If we look back to the time of old Imperial Russia, we learn that Ukraine was widely considered the birthplace of the modern Russian state. Further back and more precisely, Ukraine was the home ground of the Kiev Rus, the cultural and political predecessor to what would eventually become Russia. As an integral part of the Russian Empire, Ukraine became more thoroughly Russified than almost any other territory, and as a result Ukraine is perceived by many Russians as a kind of national blood brother.
It is important to stress that many Ukrainians, both then and now, push back against this characterization of their history and society. Simultaneously, it is impossible to explain Putin’s obsession with Ukraine without acknowledging this Russian side of the story. Yes, Putin worked for the KGB, and in part he is driven by Stalin-esque cold calculus and geopolitical gamesmanship. But his motivations, and those of his country, are not always that simple. In trying to make sense of both him and Russia, we must be willing to crane our necks and look beyond the hammer and sickle.
Three, territorial sovereignty is not quite as sacrosanct as we might like to believe. Again, this has always been the case, and there are other places in the world one could point to as proof; for example, in Kashmir or Azerbaijan-Armenia (or, *cough* *cough*, Taiwan). But Ukraine shows that even in Europe, seemingly settled questions of sovereignty and national jurisdiction can become geopolitical flashpoints with the right combination of conditions. In Ukraine, at least, it is mostly straightforward to identify the conditions that led to the current state of affairs. For one, there is an ethnic/cultural group with significant numbers on both sides of the border; there is a perceived historical injustice regarding the state of the territory; we also have the involvement of a country, Russia, that is both ambitious and willing to ignore international convention; and, finally, there is an obvious asymmetry in power.
It might be too neat to claim that these same conditions elsewhere would produce similar outcomes. But at the very least, Ukraine teaches us that borders can still be volatile, and we cannot simply trust our maps to save us. Accordingly, we should pay closer attention to current border crises, and border crises potentially in the making.
Four, the parallel world economic system. If Russia goes through with any kind of military operation (or even another ‘peaceful’ seizure of territory), the only realistic response would be another massive round of sanctions; possibly including, most significantly, kicking Russia out of the SWIFT international payments system or shutting down Nord Stream 2. These responses would be entirely understandable, but also entirely predictable. After so many years of sanctions or the threat of sanctions, they stop becoming sanctions and are simply treated as irritating barriers to trade and transaction. As a result, the national economy will look elsewhere, seek other business where it can, and turn away from the West. Russia has been preparing for this very eventuality since 2014, building up a war chest of funds and looking more fervently to China, Iran, and Pakistan. If these global economic shifts continue, what will we be left with? Parallel world economies in 20 years, with Western countries on one side and authoritarian countries on the other? Maybe it won’t be quite that extreme. But I still worry that Ukraine’s crisis will accelerate Russia’s pursuit of autarky, widening dangerously already-existing divisions in the international system.
Lastly, this is a turning point in the history of the EU. Depending on how things land, Europe might push decisively eastwards, gaining new geopolitical confidence and strength, or they might be proved impotent again, resulting in another neighboring region being closed off to EU membership. But they must respond: is Ukraine not just another immigrant knocking on Europe’s door? In any case, how the EU chooses to react to Ukraine will have consequences for at least a decade. There are various dimensions of choice here. The EU leadership has to decide if they want a serious defensive policy to stand alongside (or rival?) NATO. They also have to settle on whether they care enough about the East to contest Putin’s claims to the region. And Germany has to choose whether to put the Nord Stream pipeline into operation, potentially giving Russia leverage for years to come. I have no idea how or when these choices will be made. But the geopolitical climate is getting dicey and time for long practiced indecision is running out. Eventually, either Europe will acquire effective mechanisms to act and react to threats, or it won’t.
It is too soon to say whether the above observations offer lessons to be learnt or whether events will evolve along the lines I describe. But Ukraine is a big deal, and I’m pretty confident this isn’t the last time Europe’s longtime breadbasket will grace the front pages.
PS. In choosing the image of this article, I now understand, for the first time, Ukraine’s flag.
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