Tuesday, December 28, 2021

How the West hung Ukraine out to dry

False friendship and empty promises have set the stage for Russian invasion



Illustrated | Getty Images, iStock, Library of Congress

RYAN COOPER
DECEMBER 28, 2021

We might soon witness an honest-to-God war of conquest in Europe. Russia's Vladimir Putin already chomped Crimea off Ukraine in 2014, and now it appears he's hungry for the rest of the country.

If Putin does attack, a major reason will be the bungling diplomatic incompetence of the United States and its principal allies in Western Europe. Western nations have repeatedly raised Putin's ire using Ukraine as a proxy but have refused to dedicate the money or military might to actually defend it.

Western states' behavior isn't the sole factor here, of course. There's the fact that Putin is basically a dictator and has a habit of using wars of aggression against weaker neighbors to boost his public profile (a short, successful war is a classic political sugar high). And there's is the fact that Russia today is smaller than it was from the mid-17th century through 1991, and that much of Ukraine was included in both the old Russian Empire and the Soviet Union, leading to an apparently widely-shared belief among Russian nationalists that Ukraine is a rightful Russian possession.

Moreover, as my colleague Damon Linker points out, Europe badly needs Russian gas to deal with an unusually cold winter and a global shortage of energy. The United States is distracted by internal turmoil, the COVID-19 pandemic, and the risk of collapse of our own democratic institutions. Putin probably won't have a better opportunity in his lifetime.

But that isn't the whole story. Since the fall of the USSR, the West has treated Ukraine either with appalling neglect or as an imperialist toy. It was Western economists and governments in thrall to neoliberal dogma who pushed through the crash privatization of Ukrainian assets in the immediate post-Soviet years. That created an economic catastrophe and a veritable plague of corruption from which the country has yet to recover.

When Western financial deregulation led to the global economic crisis in 2008, it hit Ukraine particularly hard, because the country had large debts denominated in foreign currency. With implicit U.S. backing, the European Union offered a pitifully inadequate loan of 610 million euros, along with requirements for brutal austerity. As historian Adam Tooze writes in his book Crashed, "There were Ukrainian oligarchs with personal fortunes larger than this."

Putin counter-offered with a loan of $15 billion, an attempt to draw Ukraine away from the West. Liberal and pro-EU Ukrainian groups, fearing Russian imperialism and backed by Western powers, launched a revolution that turfed out the former president and signed the EU deal. In response, Putin seized Crimea and started a brushfire conflict in eastern Ukraine that continues to this day. (Recall that it was shipments of anti-tank missiles that former President Donald Trump tried to use to bully the Ukrainian president into making up dirt about his then-rival, Joe Biden.)

In short, Western powers have repeatedly used Ukraine to give Putin a bloody nose, but they have neither given it the resources that would be necessary to make an alliance with the West a good deal nor made enough of a military commitment to deter Russia.

NATO extends this combination of arrogance and incompetence toward Russia and Ukraine. The declared purpose of the treaty organization was to counter the Soviet Union and contain the spread of international communism. Neither of those have existed for 30 years, yet NATO continued mindlessly expanding throughout the 1990s and 2000s. Nobody seemed to consider whether Russia might get the idea that NATO was still an anti-Russian alliance, nor that Moscow might have understandable reasons to worry about a Western military presence in Ukraine.

While Putin is an aggressive, dangerous nationalist with a long record of murdering his political opponents, he is not wrong to think Western powers are working to encircle and overthrow his government. And while Russia is a pale shadow of the Soviet Union at its height of power, Putin has real power and leverage — above all thousands of nuclear weapons — that must be reckoned with. Western powers, assuming they can get whatever they want, all the time, without having to compromise, prioritize, or even commit much by way of resources, have not made that reckoning.

The result is reminiscent of what happened to the Iraqi Kurds in 1991. After Saddam Hussein's forces were routed easily in the Gulf War, then-President George H.W. Bush tried to topple him on the cheap by encouraging a military coup in several radio broadcasts. Kurdish forces (along with many other factions) took this as a promise of American aid and launched a rebellion that nearly took out Hussein's government. But Bush didn't want to risk getting bogged down in an occupation and so stood aside while government forces regrouped and massacred the rebels, causing hundreds of thousands of people to flee the country.

The problem wasn't that Bush was wary of occupying Iraq — after all, the world saw what happened when his imbecile son tried it a little over a decade later. The problem was his lying to vulnerable people (and cynically invoking a lot of pro-democracy rhetoric) as part of a foreign policy gambit. It wasn't Americans who were shot by the tens of thousands when the strategy blew up.

The same is true today. It is plainly evident that the U.S. and Western Europe aren't willing to put their own soldiers on the line to defend Ukraine. For these countries, the conflict there is a minor issue compared to the rise of China, the ongoing pandemic, climate change, and much else. Yet instead of facing that fact squarely and honestly, Western powers — and especially the U.S. — continually refuse to cut their losses, stop needling Putin, and seek some kind of detente. Ukraine will suffer the consequences.

Russia, US and Ukraine: The State of Play

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When nations negotiate, a quiet settles in before the threats begin. Such is the case now between the U.S. and Russia, which will soon hold talks over the status of Ukraine and any number of other issues. Moscow has published its list of demands – more of a wish list, really – to try to set the agenda. But in the end, agendas are set by reality. A quick recap of Russia’s year is a good place to begin establishing that reality.

Russia has been trying to reclaim the buffers it lost after the collapse of the Soviet Union. These buffers, the most important of which are in Eastern Europe, insulate Russia from potential attack. In the past, these attacks have tended to emerge unexpectedly, so Russia wants to have them before a threat emerges. It doesn’t necessarily need the buffers to be part of the Russian Federation; it just needs to make sure they are not hostile (or occupied by hostile powers).

Thus, Russian activities in the past year were predictable. When war broke out in the South Caucasus between Azerbaijan and Armenia, Russia dispatched a peacekeeping force and, with its enormous influence in the region, constructed a system of relationships dominated by Russia. In Central Asia, Moscow built a network of airfields, a process that only accelerated as the U.S. withdrew from Afghanistan. In Belarus, Russia completely dominates Alexander Lukashenko’s government.

These were important steps for Russia’s reclamation of its buffers, but none of them are as important as Ukraine. Its sheer size allows an enemy force to maneuver, and that maneuverability forces a defender to disperse forces. In war, Ukraine gives Russia time. It spent the year – and really years before it – focused on this moment.

Moscow understood from the beginning that it had to reach an accommodation with Washington. It also understood that the United States, like all countries, comes to the table only when it has to. Washington has been content with the structure of the former Soviet Union. Russia has not. So Russia had to put American interests in the region, particularly in Ukraine, at risk.

The very obvious massing of Russian forces around the Ukrainian border was the logical next step. Deployed as they were, the massed armored forces appeared to be in a position to rapidly overrun Ukraine. The problem, of course, was that though a country as large as Ukraine could be overrun, it could not be overrun rapidly.

Militarily, the United States is in a militarily difficult position. It has no significant force in Ukraine, and any infusion of forces could lead to a long and potentially indecisive war. NATO has no stomach for this kind of confrontation on its doorstep. Apart from limited militaries, the NATO model has morphed into the EU model, and the EU model has morphed into a model whose motto is peace and prosperity. A rapid deployment with few casualties is possible, but the kind of battle Russia offered is of no interest to the EU model, save for a few countries, most notably Poland. The Russian calculation was that the U.S. would not act, and if it did, it would split the Europeans. NATO would exercise and plan in Brussels, but ultra-caution would limit collective action.

From the American point of view, there is no short-term interest in intervening in Ukraine, let alone fighting another potentially losing war at long distance with questionable allies. But there is a long-term danger. The American strategy in the Cold War was to prevent Russia from imposing hegemony over Europe. Such a hegemony would wed Russian resources and manpower to European technology and manufacturing, creating a massive superpower that could challenge the U.S. in the Atlantic. This was a long-range threat, but long-range threats had to be dealt with early and cheaply. The Soviet threat was always there, but it was blocked at relatively low cost and was therefore politically acceptable in the West, especially when they were draped in anti-Soviet ideology and the principles of liberal democracy.

European Division, 1990
(click to enlarge)

The current situation in Ukraine recreates this long-range threat. The Russians view the United States as unpredictably ruthless – it never knows when the U.S. will take action, and its experience in the Cold War showed a U.S. willing to deploy massive force. Russia had to force the United States to limit its presence in Ukraine without risking a dramatic response. It had to demonstrate its power with a not fully credible force to compel a negotiation but not a massive response. And Washington could not go into talks without demonstrating a credible response to the Russian threat. It’s delicate on both sides.

Ultimately, both sides understood the weakness of the Russian strategy relative to the United States. Armored fighting vehicles such as those Russia sent to the Ukrainian border eat an enormous amount of fuel. An armored division in the U.S. military uses about 600,000 gallons of fuel per day when on the move, and Russia is deploying multiple divisions, which would have to be followed by an endless line of refueling vehicles, coming from vast fuel storages. At best, this is complicated. At worst, it’s a prime candidate for a war of attrition as the U.S., weary of Russia’s anti-aircraft capability, fires cruise missiles from afar. (Russia can, of course, shoot some down, but the losses would be huge.)

The Russian decision to carry out multidivisional armored warfare will depend on how confident it is that the U.S. would get involved, how confident Moscow is that the U.S. would choose a winning strategy, how confident it is in its own defensive systems, and how confident it is that it can politically withstand even a temporary defeat. The Russians have not engaged in multidivisional offensives since 1945. They cannot live with the loss of buffers. They cannot live with defeat.

War is filled with vulnerabilities, many of which are discovered at inconvenient times. The price Russia would pay in the event of a failed invasion is significant in terms of domestic politics and international credibility. The price the U.S. would face by a defeat would be less. Its credibility would be hurt, but a geopolitical imperative would not be lost.

The Russians know this far better than I do. So the coming negotiations will break down here and there; Russian forces will be on full alert, but Russia can’t afford a defeat and can’t be certain of victory. In the end, the thing that the Russians will have gained is that they sat down across from the Americans as equals, and the rest of the world will have seen it. There will be consequences to America for conceding the point, and the Europeans will proclaim the end of American power for the hundredth time. And history will go on.

George Friedman is an internationally recognized geopolitical forecaster and strategist on international affairs and the founder and chairman of Geopolitical Futures.

Dr. Friedman is also a New York Times bestselling author. His most recent book, THE STORM BEFORE THE CALM: America’s Discord, the Coming Crisis of the 2020s, and the Triumph Beyond, published February 25, 2020 describes how “the United States periodically reaches a point of crisis in which it appears to be at war with itself, yet after an extended period it reinvents itself, in a form both faithful to its founding and radically different from what it had been.” The decade 2020-2030 is such a period which will bring dramatic upheaval and reshaping of American government, foreign policy, economics, and culture.



His most popular book, The Next 100 Years, is kept alive by the prescience of its predictions. Other best-selling books include Flashpoints: The Emerging Crisis in Europe, The Next Decade, America’s Secret War, The Future of War and The Intelligence Edge. His books have been translated into more than 20 languages.

Dr. Friedman has briefed numerous military and government organizations in the United States and overseas and appears regularly as an expert on international affairs, foreign policy and intelligence in major media. For almost 20 years before resigning in May 2015, Dr. Friedman was CEO and then chairman of Stratfor, a company he founded in 1996. Friedman received his bachelor’s degree from the City College of the City University of New York and holds a doctorate in government from Cornell University.

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