By Eric Vandenbroeck and co-workers
Why it
is too soon for a lasting diplomatic settlement
President Vladimir Putin on Thursday compared himself to
Peter the Great, drawing parallels with the tsar who waged war on Sweden and
said the campaign in Ukraine stems from Russia's 'fundamental values
while drawing parallels between Peter's founding of St. Petersburg and his
own government's annexation of territory saying: We
will undoubtedly succeed in solving the tasks that we face. Putin says
Russia aims to acquire new territories.
The particulars of the comparison were likely not a coincidence as
Sweden and Finland have in recent weeks broken from
historical positions of neutrality and formally applied
to join NATO, a direct rebuke of Russian aggression and a particular source of
irony given Putin’s stated concerns about Ukraine’s own attempts to join the
Cold War-ear alliance.
"During the war with Sweden, Peter the Great didn't conquer anything,
he took back what had always belonged to us, even though all of Europe
recognized it as Sweden's. It seems now it's our turn to get our lands back."
And while earlier we stated why Russia's
early failures don't make it less dangerous, Ukraine should have no peace
at any price.
As Russia's war in Ukraine enters its fourth month, calls are growing
in Western Europe and the United States for a diplomatic push to end the war.
In late May, Italy proposed a four-point peace plan for Ukraine that would
culminate in sanctions relief for Russia. Not long after, former U.S. Secretary
of State Henry Kissinger, speaking at Davos, called on Ukraine to cede Russia's
territory and begin negotiations immediately. And at the beginning of June,
French President Emmanuel Macron repeated his call to not "humiliate"
Russia. In the halls of power, a consensus seems to be emerging: give
Moscow land in exchange for peace.
In Ukraine, the opposite view has taken hold. Speaking directly to
Kissinger's comments, President Volodymyr Zelensky retorted, "Those
advising Ukraine to give away something to Russia are always unwilling to see
ordinary people. According to a May poll, he is joined in this view by more
than 80 percent of Ukrainians opposed territorial concessions. Unsurprisingly,
a population attacked so brutally and unjustly rewarded it.
Zelensky and the Ukrainian people are right: pressuring Ukraine into a
negotiated settlement with territorial concessions would not lead to long-term
peace and stability in Europe. Instead, it would reward Russian military
aggression in the short term, create a new swath of
instability in the heart of Europe, and effectively condone Russian war
crimes. A peaceful settlement sounds reasonable in theory. But in
practice—in this war, at this moment—it would yield no lasting peace.
The problem with peace
For starters, proposals that Ukraine gives up territory to Russian
control create a moral hazard. The war in Ukraine is not akin to an eighteenth-
or nineteenth-century conflict in which a province might be handed from one
country to another without catastrophic consequences for most of the people who
live there. Russian President Vladimir Putin's war is a war of national
extermination. He has made no secret of his aim to destroy Ukraine's cultural and national identity. In the
parts of Ukraine they occupy, Russian forces have established "filtration
camps" where they question Ukrainians and deport them against their will
to Russia. They have committed mass killings and rapes. They
have destroyed Ukrainian culture, targeting historical sites, looting
museums, and burning books. These tactics are reminiscent of the Stalinist
methods employed against Estonia, Latvia, and Lithuania in 1940, when the
Soviets occupied the Baltic states and sought to erase national identity
through mass deportations and forced Russification. Russia's crimes in
Ukraine today are not excesses of war committed in the heat of battle but
expressions of national policy.
Therefore, those who call on Ukraine to give up territory must own up
to the consequences. Millions of people would never return to their homes.
Thousands of civilians would be killed, tortured, and raped. Children would be
taken from their parents. The Ukrainians remaining under Russian occupation
would be stripped of their national identity and placed under
permanent, hostile submission. Professors, teachers, writers, journalists,
civic leaders, local activists, and anyone with what Putin has termed a
"Nazi" (read: Ukrainian) identity would probably be harassed and
perhaps imprisoned or deported. Accepting further Russian occupation of Ukraine
would mean accepting these inevitable moral and ethical consequences. The
atrocities would not stop if the fighting ended. On the contrary, surrendering
territory to achieve a peace dictated by Moscow would vindicate such tactics
and lock in their consequences forever.
Just a band-aid
Advocates of a diplomatic settlement are also unrealistic about its
long-term implications for European peace,
security, and deterrence. Underlying their proposals is the assumption that a
negotiated settlement now would lead to a permanent solution in which Ukraine
gives up the territory now under Russian occupation—namely, Crimea, Luhansk,
Donetsk, and perhaps Kherson and other regions—and an independent rump state
would develop freely to pursue its ambitions of European integration. The idea
is to emulate past settlements in which territory was partitioned, and
stability ensued, such as the division of Germany in 1945 and the Korean
armistice of 1953.
But Ukraine is a profoundly different case. Since his February 24
speech that launched the war, Putin has explicitly stated that he intends to
destroy Ukrainian independence writ large. A settlement that surrenders some
Ukrainian territory to Russia is unlikely to end Russia's desires to deny
Ukraine true nationhood. The Soviet Union accepted West Germany as a sovereign
country during the Cold War. Still, Putin would never do the same for
Ukraine, which he fundamentally does not see as an independent nation.
The Russian-occupied areas of Ukraine, for their part, would in no way
resemble East Germany. The Soviets sought to make that country the beacon of
state socialism. They wanted it to be communist and under their control, not
eliminated or Russified. Even if Russia wanted to rebuild the Donbas or any
other part of Ukraine it occupies, it doesn't have the resources to do so. If
ceded to Russia, these territories—already leveled to the ground—would remain
no man's lands: zones of lawlessness and human rights abuses.
A divided Ukraine would not resemble the Korean armistice, either. In
that case, on the northern side of the 38th parallel, millions of people suffer
under a totalitarian dictatorship. At the same time, 50 million South Koreans
enjoy freedom, well-being, and a measure of security in the south. But as long
as Russia occupies parts of Ukraine, it will seek to undermine any independent
Ukrainian government through force, political subversion, and economic
pressure.
Another critical difference: to the extent that both the German and
Korean solutions worked, they did so thanks to U.S. security guarantees and
U.S. troops. West Germany was made a member of NATO, South Korea signed a U.S.
defense treaty, and both countries hosted tens of thousands of U.S. troops. In
the case of Ukraine, extending NATO membership to the government could, in
theory, back up a territorial settlement. Absent NATO membership, one could
imagine a different set of reassurances that could provide the security
underpinnings for long-term stability for a sort of West Ukraine. The United
States might, for example, station troops in Ukraine on a long-term basis, and
it (and perhaps other countries, as well) might offer a security guarantee on
the level of NATO's Article 5 or the U.S.–South Korean bilateral defense arrangements.
But such guarantees remain unlikely.
Western Europe seems no more willing to provide Article 5 guarantees to
Ukraine than it did at the 2008 Bucharest summit, where members settled on
Ukrainian NATO membership as a long-term objective but laid out no meaningful
path to achieve it. Based on our conversations with officials in the Biden
administration, even the United States does not seem ready to offer Ukraine
security guarantees akin to what it provided West Germany or South Korea;
instead, it is planning to continue to provide only arms and intelligence.
Moreover, the Kremlin is likely to insist that any settlement with Ukraine
include Ukrainian commitments to give up NATO membership in favor of some
neutrality, along with a pledge not to base foreign troops. In any case, those
urging Ukraine to surrender territory seldom back up their preferred settlement
by insisting that the country be welcomed into NATO or given hard security
guarantees by the United States. These omissions inspire little confidence that
such proposals are realistic.
At best, Russian-occupied Ukraine would be the site of another
so-called frozen conflict, but even that concept is a misnomer and illusion.
Frozen conflicts imply stable permanency, but they are anything but that. As with
Luhansk and Donetsk, where the invasion began, gray zones often become
launching pads for greater aggression. Moscow's occupation of Crimea, another
so-called frozen conflict, has allowed Russian forces to impose an economic
blockade, cutting off vital agricultural exports from Ukraine and igniting a
global food crisis. Creating more gray zones in Ukraine might produce a tenuous
short-term stop to the fighting. Still, as recent history has shown, they would
also enable the Kremlin to use these territories to destabilize Ukraine and
Europe and rebuild its strength.
Bad intentions
The diplomatic solution proposed by Italy, to its credit, does not insist
on a unilateral Ukrainian surrender of territory. The four-part framework
includes a cease-fire and demilitarization; Ukrainian neutrality plus security
guarantees; autonomy for Crimea and the Donbas, with both remaining as part of
Ukraine; and withdrawal of Russian forces combined with the lifting of
sanctions. Judging by its public statements in the early weeks of the war,
Ukraine might accept something like these terms if they could be realized.
But they are not likely to be. For one thing, in 2013, the Kremlin
already had a good deal in Ukraine: the country was officially neutral, its
security relations with the West were minimal, and Putin's man, Viktor
Yanukovych, was its president. That wasn't good enough for Putin: he forced
Yanukovych to reject a modest trade agreement with the European Union and thus
precipitated a democratic uprising. In the years since, Putin's appetite has
only grown. Predictably, Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov has already
dismissed the Italian proposal.
Even if the Kremlin announced tomorrow that it accepted a diplomatic
framework as the basis for negotiation, there would be a good reason to remain
skeptical of its chances. The Italian deal, for example, is similar to the
now-defunct Minsk agreements, which started with a cease-fire, included local
control for the Donbas, and ended with restoring Ukraine's eastern
international boundary. Russia did not take Minsk seriously as anything but a
platform to escalate demands. It is unlikely to treat a diplomatic proposal any
better today.
Anyone who still believes in Moscow's intention to take such frameworks
seriously should study its behavior in Syria, where the Russians treated every
arrangement as an opportunity to advance its position on the ground. For
negotiations to work, all parties at the table must want a solution, be
sincerely engaged in the process, and abide by the ultimate compromise. Putin
has shown no inclination to do that so far, and he is unlikely to change his
behavior as long as he sees any pathway to a win in Ukraine.
Too early for an endgame
Western policymakers must accept a harsh truth in Ukraine: the war will
likely grind on for some time. At this point in the conflict, the West should think
less about what Ukraine should give to Russia and how to avoid humiliating
Putin and more about what it can do to put Ukraine in the best possible
position. The ultimate argument of those who wish Ukraine to surrender land
unilaterally is that the country cannot prevail in the war—that, as The
New York Times editorial board put it, regaining territory
"is not a realistic goal."
But those who doubt Ukraine's capabilities should consider how far the
country has accomplished. Just as initial assumptions of a quick Russian
victory were wrong, current assumptions of a slow but unstoppable Russian
advance may be off, too. Ukrainian offensives to regain territory in the south
and east of the country may prove difficult. But with its limited forces, Russia may be unable to
hold all the territory it has taken. Nobody knows what the fortunes of war may
bring. In private conversations with the two of us, senior U.S. military and
civilian officials have shared mixed views of how the battle is likely to go
and acknowledged that they are uncertain. Uncertainty is a questionable basis
for making weighty decisions that have baleful consequences for millions of
people—such as urging Ukraine to give up territory or pressuring it to stop
fighting. At this stage, there is no basis to allow Putin to win at the
negotiating table what he has failed to achieve on the battlefield.
Ukrainian military success is not inevitable. But it is possible. Putin will
not be impressed by firm speeches from Western leaders. What he may well
respect, however, is a defeat on the ground, which could convince him to negotiate
a settlement that he could portray through his propaganda machine as a victory.
Putin is counting on the West to lose patience in a long war and capitulate as
energy and food prices rise. And although the Russian people are famed for
their ability to endure hardship, they were promised a quick "special
military operation"—not years of conflict that make it difficult to live
everyday lives. Their patience will wear thinner if Russia loses on the
battlefield.
The United States, Europe, and Ukraine's other friends have a
responsibility to help Ukraine prevail commensurate with that possibility. The
goal now for the West is to thwart an adversary—not to convince or pressure
Ukraine to give up. That means sending more arms to Ukraine and putting more economic
pressure on Russia.
Such a plan does not rule out negotiations. Zelensky and his government
have not done so. They showed more commitment to negotiations in the early
weeks of the war than the Kremlin. Ukraine is in the most favorable position.
The twentieth century's two world wars are an endless source of
precedents and analogies. The lead-up to World War II produced the Munich
analogy, an allusion to the 1938 British and French decision to permit Nazi
Germany to annex part of Czechoslovakia. Where Munich became shorthand for appeasement.
The aftermath of the war produced the Nuremberg analogy, a reference to the
public trials of the surviving leaders of the utterly defeated Nazi regime.
"Nuremberg" now stands for "unconditional surrender."
As long as Ukrainians are willing to fight for their homeland and all
of Europe, the West must support them. Peace may sound like an appealing
talking point, but Ukrainians know that it cannot come at any price. Western policymakers
should listen.
Whereby it should not be forgotten that the US and UK have agreed to send
Ukraine several medium-range missile systems, despite continuing threats and
warnings from Russia about the consequences of continued western support
in general and supply of these weapons in particular. Russia possesses similar weapons in abundance – and has used them
extensively.
These MLRS and Himars will not win
the war on their own. Ukraine’s army will need a great deal more of the
same – plus tanks, drones, aircraft, and many other less glamorous systems and
equipment, such as trucks and tank transporters, to ensure success for their
counteroffensives later in the summer. That said, their new gun and rocket
artillery is excellent news for the Ukrainian army – and very bad news indeed
for Russians.
However Ukraine’s deputy head of military intelligence has said Ukraine is losing against
Russia on the frontlines and is now almost solely reliant on weapons from the
west to keep Russia at bay.“This is an artillery war
now,” said Vadym Skibitsky,
deputy head of Ukraine’s military intelligence. The frontlines were now where
the future would be decided, he told the Guardian, “and we are losing in terms
of artillery”. “Everything now depends on what [the west] gives us,” said Skibitsky. “Ukraine has one artillery piece to 10 to 15
Russian artillery pieces. Our western partners have given us about 10% of what
they have.”
In other words, partners have to hurry up.
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