By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Ukraine And Then Next?
From the outset of
his invasion of Ukraine, Russian President Vladimir Putin’s vast ambitions for
the war were obvious. He intended to topple the government in Kyiv and either
partition or take control of Ukraine. But Putin’s aspirations extended beyond
carving a sphere of influence in central and eastern Europe. By subjugating the
Ukrainian polity, Putin hoped to initiate a new era of global politics detached
from American leadership. He promised an international system that would be
genuinely postcolonial, solicitous of conservative values, and robustly
multipolar, with Russia as one of its central arbiters.
Even after setback
after setback on the battlefield in Ukraine, Putin remains committed to a
brutal, immiserating war effort. He will do what he can to isolate and
impoverish Ukraine in pursuit of an international order that sidelines the West
and restores Russia’s proper place in the world as he construes it. Announced
by Putin at the 2007 Munich Security Conference, Moscow’s turn from the West
accelerated after the annexation of Crimea in 2014, reaching a breaking point
with the invasion of Ukraine in 2022. The longer the war lasts, the more Putin
will look for opportunities to undermine and supplant the West.
Russia’s strategy to
globalize the war has multiple dimensions. In its economic relations, Moscow
has capitalized on the opportunism of countries indifferent to the conflict:
the Kremlin aims to integrate Russia into non-Western trade, defense, and commerce
networks. Ideologically, Russia blames the war on Western deceit and Ukrainian
betrayal, leveling accusations of hypocrisy against the United States and its
allies. Diplomatically, Russia and the West are carrying the conflict into
international institutions. Whether in the UN Security Council or the
International Atomic Energy Agency, whatever modus vivendi there had once been
between Russia and the West has come apart. By nurturing apathy and frustration
with the war in non-Western capitals, Moscow hopes that other countries will
join its ranks or at the very least, distance themselves from the West.
Central to Russia’s
global strategy are force and fear. The Kremlin seeks control over global
pressure points by consciously stoking anxiety about nuclear catastrophe. Its
bid to strong-arm Europe through gas and energy exports may have failed, but
the Kremlin has other tools at its disposal, one of which concerns the global
food supply. By pulling out of the Black Sea Grain Initiative in July 2023,
after threatening to do so for months, Russia has upped the ante. Brokered by
Turkey and the UN, this agreement ensured the wartime export of Ukrainian
grain. Since leaving the deal, Russia has tried to impose a de facto
blockade on civilian shipping to and from all Ukrainian-held Black Sea ports.
It has attacked ports, grain storage facilities, and other sites along the
Danube River to hinder Ukrainian shipments. In so doing, Russia hopes to gain
long-term coercive leverage over Ukraine while waging a prolonged military
struggle to subdue the country.
The United States and
other countries supporting Ukraine must avoid wishful thinking about Russia’s
chronic decline. They should not underestimate the scale of Moscow’s ambitions.
In the classic sense, neither a great power nor a regional power, Russia exists
in a confusing category of its own: it is a regional power with considerable
global reach. To fend off Putin, the United States and its partners should
think of the war similarly globally. This involves recognizing the limits of
sanctions, preemptively identifying Russia’s next pressure points, emphasizing
the importance of food security, and developing a diplomatic stance that is
less narrowly transatlantic and more broadly appealing to non-Western
countries. Russia will use its global assets and instruments to prolong the
war. The United States must harness its global influence to shorten the war,
maximize support for Ukraine, and contain Russia.
Russia’s World
Putin’s Russia
inherited the dual legacies of imperial Russian foreign policy and Soviet
great-power status. Russia had been a part of the European state system since
the seventeenth century, extending far west in the decades before World War I
and making its presence felt throughout Asia and the Middle East. The Soviet
Union embraced Russia’s imperial past and was extremely active in
Africa, Latin America, and the Middle East, especially when Soviet leader
Nikita Khrushchev came to power in the mid-1950s and devoted himself to new
varieties of Soviet internationalism. Yevgeny Primakov, the foreign minister
under Russian President Boris Yeltsin, contended in the late 1990s that the
world was “multipolar” and that Russia was too large, consequential, and proud
to be impeded by Washington’s hegemonic pretensions.
Once a political
rival to Primakov, Putin soon became a disciple of the former foreign minister
and prime minister. Money poured into Russia after 2000, allowing Putin to
modernize the Russian military and revive the Soviet Union’s soft power. By
2015, Moscow’s military modernization had enabled power projection in the
Middle East, and Russia intervened in Syria on the side of President Bashar
al-Assad’s regime. The Kremlin’s soft power might have appeared negligible to
the casual observer; Russia lacked China's economic might, the lifestyle appeal
of Europe, and the military power of the United States. Yet Putin’s Russia
avidly fostered ties with non-Western countries, often by invoking historical
grievances about the West. Putin has consistently presented Russia as an
autonomous global actor and an antidote to a reckless, revisionist United
States. In this guise, he seeks to appear as a role model for other leaders
dissatisfied with the international status quo.
Putin’s invasion of
Ukraine has tarnished Russia’s reputation in Europe and the United States,
raising doubts about his regime’s competence. But the war has not isolated
Russia from the world. Instead, the war has signaled a new chapter in Russia’s
global orientation. Styling itself as a David to the Western Goliath, Russia
has cultivated a wartime soft power that resonates. Many countries perceive the
West as focused on the Ukraine war to the exclusion of other urgent challenges.
They contend that the United States, having fought wars of aggression in
Vietnam and Iraq, falls short of its purported standards and principles. Some
governments, including Brazil, Syria, Venezuela, and Zimbabwe, parrot the
Kremlin’s line about the West’s aggressive and arrogant policies toward Russia,
blaming the war on the West. Moscow invokes these sentiments in the UN Security
Council, at the diplomatic gatherings it convenes (such as the Russia-Africa
Summit held in St. Petersburg this past July), and at the summits of the BRICS
grouping, which brings together Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South Africa,
and will soon be expanded to include six other nations. Time and again, Russia
argues that Ukraine and the West—not Russia—are out of sync with the global
majority.
The durability of
Russia’s economy illuminates the war’s global context. The West has not knocked
Russia’s economy substantially off balance, and many major economies ranging
from India to South Africa are continuing or expanding their commercial ties with
Russia. The war has shifted Russia’s trade and technology transfers, whether
drones supplied by Iran, microchips smuggled through the “roundabout trade,” or
emerging energy markets in Asia. Although the West initially assumed that the
threat of sanctions would deter Russia from invading or that sanctions
themselves would prevent Russia from waging a long war, the conflict has thus
far shown otherwise.
Under Pressure
Trapped in a forever
war of its own making, Russia is increasing global pressure in critical areas.
Russian foreign policy experts and media propagandists have insinuated that a
nuclear conflagration could occur unless the West backs down over Ukraine. These
veiled nuclear threats have been heard in the West and globally, bolstering the
belief (held by some) that Russia should not be pushed too far and that its
demands should not be dismissed. Russia has dramatically curtailed
collaboration with the West on pressing global challenges such as nuclear arms
control and nonproliferation while also becoming more and more obstructionist
at the UN, where cooperation was unexpectedly robust in the months following
the February 2022 invasion of Ukraine. Russia has recently undermined
multilateral arrangements it once tolerated, such as a mechanism facilitating
cross-border aid into Syria. Russia’s appetite for tackling global problems
jointly with the West is gone. Putin blithely attributes this decline of
multilateralism to the West.
When yesterday’s
pressure points do not deliver, Russia moves on to other ones. The Kremlin’s
most recent preoccupation is the global food supply. Putin’s abandonment of the
Black Sea Grain Initiative was a cruel, calculated action in line with Russia’s
broader strategy: blocking Ukraine’s access to international markets and
gaining control over a major global chokepoint. Beyond the Black Sea, Russia
has attacked Ukrainian grain terminals near Romania. This follows the Kremlin’s
futile attempts to degrade Ukraine’s economic wherewithal through strikes on
Ukrainian energy infrastructure last winter. Russia’s attacks against Ukraine’s
grain supply are affecting global foodstuff prices, with Russia standing to
profit as one of the significant global alternatives.
In withdrawing from
the grain deal, Russia pursues aims beyond mere profit. With the twinned goals
of gaining an advantage in Ukraine and pushing back against Western influence,
Moscow is asserting itself as a pivotal global actor in the supply of foodstuffs.
Having imposed immense suffering on the people of Ukraine, Russia’s attacks on
grain supply are expanding the perimeter of this suffering to people all over
the world, and in this suffering resides real geopolitical leverage. Such
behavior is another reason for the United States and other countries—that are
food producers or have viable alternatives to Russian grain—to counter Russia’s
brutal war on Ukraine.
However, the
situation differs for countries dependent on Russian and Ukrainian grain or
those vulnerable to rising food prices. Governments struggling to feed their
populations—the most fundamental obligation of any society—may be compelled to
work with Russia to ensure a steady grain supply at acceptable prices. To
achieve their food goals, these countries may need to flatter Russia or
reconsider votes in international institutions on issues critical to Russia. At
the Russia-Africa Summit, Putin melodramatically offered free grain to six
African countries—an act of empty showmanship. The Kremlin may provide grain at
high, low, or no cost, but it will always press for something in return.
In November 2022,
Turkish President Recep Tayyip Erdogan used his leverage with the Kremlin,
after it had reneged on the Black Sea Grain Initiative, to get it back to the
deal; that deal required periodic renewal. At the urging of Erdogan, who is
scheduled to visit Russia soon to discuss the grain deal, among other topics,
Putin may eventually agree to a revised deal. Even if he does, he retains a
source of leverage he can dial up or down.
Russia’s control of
food supplies has dramatic implications. Scarcity is driving up the price of
grain and other foodstuffs, generating inflation in global markets. Rising
inflation is eroding support for incumbent governments while bolstering the
popularity of opposition parties and movements. Despite subsiding inflation in
the United States, Europe is still grappling with this challenge, coinciding
with the rise of far-right parties throughout the continent. By releasing or
continuing to withhold grain through a temporary deal, Russia can try to shape
global economic conditions by its foreign policy agendas.
Food scarcity begets
hunger, behind which looms instability. When coupled with global warming, which
increases competition for agricultural resources such as water and arable land,
hunger can generate political upheaval. It was a source of revolutionary anger
in eighteenth-century France and in twenty-first-century Syria, where civil war
was preceded by drought. Migrant flows, such as those that Europe experienced
in 2015, can quickly export instability from one part of the world to
another—Russia and Belarus have long exploited migration in pursuit of
geopolitical objectives. Russia’s manipulation of global grain supplies is
surely targeted at Europe and the United States, where a clear concordance
exists between political actors opposed to migration and those reluctant to
back Ukraine.
Putin’s goal is not
to create vulnerability in a specific area. Rather, he aims to foster global dependence
on Russia’s policy decisions. These elements of global influence matter more to
Putin than his good reputation in Africa or the Middle East, where Moscow’s
withdrawal from the Black Sea Grain Initiative dismayed many countries.
A Long War
Practical support for
Ukraine demands a policymaking imagination that extends beyond Europe.
Ukraine’s well-being runs through global networks, which Russia—confronted with
constraints on the battlefield—seeks to disrupt and damage. The Kremlin’s
ultimate goal is clear: strangling the Ukrainian economy, society, and state by
whatever means necessary. Moral scruples, appeals, and accusations will not
deter Putin. Instead, it is essential to preserve Ukraine’s integration into
the global economy, which Russia deliberately attempts to degrade.
The United States’
most immediate challenge is food security. While energy’s geopolitical
significance has long been recognized, with the U.S. government calibrated to
handle energy contingencies, investing in similar interagency mechanisms for
food security is important. These efforts—helping countries such as Ukraine
protect their commercial grain industry, supplying food where it is urgently
needed, and increasing the grain available to global markets—could rally global
support behind Ukraine more effectively than abstract arguments about
international order or the merits of the UN Charter.
Over the past two
decades, Moscow’s foreign policy decisions have often caught U.S. policymakers
off-guard, whether it was the 2008 invasion of Georgia, the annexation of
Crimea, or meddling in the 2016 U.S. presidential election. Yet the U.S.
government correctly anticipated Russia’s invasion of Ukraine in late 2021,
acting decisively to complicate the Kremlin’s plans. Washington should now
understand that Moscow is geared up for a long war over the future of Ukraine
and the international order and will use global levers of power and influence
to hurt Ukraine and the West. The effects of Russia’s actions will not be
trivial. Nor will the Kremlin’s ruthlessness necessarily turn non-Western
countries against Russia. The sooner U.S. policymakers appreciate the global
dimensions of the war in Ukraine, the sooner they may be able to engineer the
failure of Russia’s designs for Ukraine.
For updates click hompage here