[<<Vladimir Putin is determined to shape the future to look like his
version of the past. Russia’s president invaded Ukraine not because he felt
threatened by NATO expansion or by Western “provocations.” He ordered his
“special military operation” because he believes that it is Russia’s divine
right to rule Ukraine, to wipe out the country’s national identity, and to
integrate its people into a Greater Russia.
He laid out this mission in a 5,000-word treatise, published in July 2021,
entitled, “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians.” In it,
Putin insisted that Belarusians, Russians, and Ukrainians are all
descendants of the Rus, an ancient people who settled the lands between the
Black and Baltic Seas. He asserted that they are bound together by a common
territory and language and the Orthodox Christian faith. In his version of
history, Ukraine has never been sovereign, except for a few historical
interludes when it tried—and failed—to become an independent state. Putin
wrote that “Russia was robbed” of core territory when the Bolsheviks
created the Soviet Union in 1922 and established a Ukrainian Soviet
Socialist Republic. In his telling, since the Soviet collapse, the West has
used Ukraine as a platform to threaten Russia, and it has supported the
rise of “neo-Nazis” there. Putin’s essay, which every soldier sent to
Ukraine is supposed to carry, ends by asserting that Ukraine can only be
sovereign in partnership with Russia. “We are one people,” Putin declares.
This treatise, and similar public statements, make clear that Putin wants a
world where Russia presides over a new Slavic union composed of Belarus,
Russia, Ukraine, and perhaps the northern part of Kazakhstan (which is
heavily Slavic)—and where all the other post-Soviet states recognize
Russia’s suzerainty. He also wants the West and the global South to accept
Russia’s predominant regional role in Eurasia. This is more than a sphere
of influence; it is a sphere of control, with a mixture of outright
territorial reintegration of some places and dominance in the security,
political, and economic spheres of others.
...
In Vladimir Putin’s mind, history matters—that is, history as he sees it.
Putin’s conception of the past may be very different from what is generally
accepted, but his narratives are a potent political weapon, and they
underpin his legitimacy. Well before the full invasion of Ukraine on
February 24, 2022, Putin had been making intellectual forays into obscure
periods of the past and manipulating key events to set up the domestic and
international justification for his war. In 2010, at the annual meeting of
the Kremlin-sponsored Valdai International Discussion Club, Putin’s press
spokesman told the audience that the Russian president reads books on
Russian history “all the time.” He makes frequent pronouncements about
Russian history, including about his own place in it. Putin has put Kyiv at
the center of his drive to “correct” what he says is a historical
injustice: the separation of Ukraine from Russia during the 1922 formation
of the Soviet Union.
The president’s obsession with Russia’s imperial past runs deep. In his
Kremlin chambers, Putin has strategically placed statues of the Russian
monarchs Peter the Great and Catherine the Great, who conquered what are
today Ukrainian territories in wars with the Swedish and Ottoman empires.
He has also usurped Ukraine’s history and appropriated some of its most
prominent figures. In November 2016, for example, right outside the Kremlin
gates, Putin erected a statue of Vladimir the Great, the tenth-century
grand prince of the principality of Kyiv. In Putin’s version of history,
Grand Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity on behalf of all of ancient
Rus in 988, making him the holy saint of Orthodox Christianity and a
Russian, not a Ukrainian, Figure. The conversion means that there is no
Ukrainian nation separate from Russia. The grand prince belongs to Moscow,
not to Kyiv.
...
Despite calls by some for a negotiated settlement that would involve
Ukrainian territorial concessions, Putin seems uninterested in a compromise
that would leave Ukraine as a sovereign, independent state—whatever its
borders. According to multiple former senior U.S. officials we spoke with,
in April 2022, Russian and Ukrainian negotiators appeared to have
tentatively agreed on the outlines of a negotiated interim settlement:
Russia would withdraw to its position on February 23, when it controlled
part of the Donbas region and all of Crimea, and in exchange, Ukraine would
promise not to seek NATO membership and instead receive security guarantees
from a number of countries. But as Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov
stated in a July interview with his country’s state media, this compromise
is no longer an option. Even giving Russia all of the Donbas is not enough.
“Now the geography is different,” Lavrov asserted, in describing Russia’s
short-term military aims. “It’s also Kherson and the Zaporizhzhya regions
and a number of other territories.” The goal is not negotiation, but
Ukrainian capitulation.
At any point, negotiations with Russia—if not handled carefully and with
continued strong Western support for Ukraine’s defense and security—would
merely facilitate an operational pause for Moscow. After a time, Russia
would continue to try to undermine the Ukrainian government. Moscow would
likely first attempt to take Odessa and other Black Sea ports with the goal
of leaving Ukraine an economically inviable, landlocked country. If he
succeeds in that, Putin would launch a renewed assault on Kyiv as well,
with the aim of unseating the present government and installing a
pro-Moscow puppet government. Putin’s war in Ukraine, then, will likely
grind on for a long time. The main challenge for the West will be
maintaining resolve and unity, as well as expanding international support
for Ukraine and preventing sanctions evasion.
This will not be easy. The longer the war lasts, the greater the impact
domestic politics will have on its course. Russia, Ukraine, and the United
States will all have presidential elections in 2024. Russia’s and Ukraine’s
are usually slated for March. Russia’s outcome is foreordained: either
Putin will return to power, or he will be followed by a successor, likely
from the security services, who supports the war and is hostile to the
West. Zelensky remains popular in Ukraine as a wartime president, but he
will be less likely to win an election if he makes territorial concessions.
And if Donald Trump or a Republican with views like his becomes president
of the United States in 2025, U.S. support for Ukraine will erode.
...
As he looks toward a quarter century in power, Putin seeks to build his
version of a Russian empire. He is “gathering in the lands” as did his
personal icons—the great Russian tsars—and overturning the legacy of Lenin,
the Bolsheviks, and the post–Cold War settlement. In this way, Putin wants
Russia to be the one exception to the inexorable rise and fall of imperial
states. In the twentieth century, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire
collapsed after World War I. Britain and France reluctantly gave up their
empires after World War II. But Putin is insistent on bringing tsarist
Russia back. Regardless of whether he prevails in Ukraine, Putin’s mission
is already having a clear and ironic impact, both on Europe and on Russia’s
22 years of economic advancement. In reasserting Russia’s imperial position
by seeking to reconquer Ukraine, Putin is reversing one of the greatest
achievements of his professed greatest hero. During his reign, Peter the
Great opened a window to the West by traveling to Europe, inviting
Europeans to come to Russia and help develop its economy, and adopting and
adapting European artisans’ skills. Vladimir Putin’s invasions and
territorial expansions have slammed that window shut. They have sent
Europeans and their companies back home and pushed a generation of talented
Russians fleeing into exile. Peter took Russia into the future. Putin is
pushing it back to the past.>>

(Excerpted  from below.)]

https://www.foreignaffairs.com/russian-federation/world-putin-wants-fiona-hill-angela-stent

The World Putin Wants
*How Distortions About the Past Feed Delusions About the Future*
By Fiona Hill and Angela Stent
September/October 2022

Russian President Vladimir Putin in Ashgabat, Turkmenistan, June 2022
Contributor / Getty Images

Vladimir Putin is determined to shape the future to look like his version
of the past. Russia’s president invaded Ukraine not because he felt
threatened by NATO expansion or by Western “provocations.” He ordered his
“special military operation” because he believes that it is Russia’s divine
right to rule Ukraine, to wipe out the country’s national identity, and to
integrate its people into a Greater Russia.

He laid out this mission in a 5,000-word treatise, published in July 2021,
entitled, “On the Historical Unity of Russians and Ukrainians.” In it,
Putin insisted that Belarusians, Russians, and Ukrainians are all
descendants of the Rus, an ancient people who settled the lands between the
Black and Baltic Seas. He asserted that they are bound together by a common
territory and language and the Orthodox Christian faith. In his version of
history, Ukraine has never been sovereign, except for a few historical
interludes when it tried—and failed—to become an independent state. Putin
wrote that “Russia was robbed” of core territory when the Bolsheviks
created the Soviet Union in 1922 and established a Ukrainian Soviet
Socialist Republic. In his telling, since the Soviet collapse, the West has
used Ukraine as a platform to threaten Russia, and it has supported the
rise of “neo-Nazis” there. Putin’s essay, which every soldier sent to
Ukraine is supposed to carry, ends by asserting that Ukraine can only be
sovereign in partnership with Russia. “We are one people,” Putin declares.

This treatise, and similar public statements, make clear that Putin wants a
world where Russia presides over a new Slavic union composed of Belarus,
Russia, Ukraine, and perhaps the northern part of Kazakhstan (which is
heavily Slavic)—and where all the other post-Soviet states recognize
Russia’s suzerainty. He also wants the West and the global South to accept
Russia’s predominant regional role in Eurasia. This is more than a sphere
of influence; it is a sphere of control, with a mixture of outright
territorial reintegration of some places and dominance in the security,
political, and economic spheres of others.

Putin is serious about achieving these goals by military and nonmilitary
means. He has been at war in Ukraine since early 2014, when Russian forces,
wearing green combat uniforms stripped of their insignia, took control of
Crimea in a stealth operation. This attack was swiftly followed by covert
operations to stir up civil disorder in Ukraine’s eastern and southern
regions close to the Russian border. Russia succeeded in fomenting revolt
in the Donbas region and sparking an armed conflict that resulted in 14,000
deaths over the next eight years. All these regions have been targeted for
assault and conquest since February 2022. Similarly, in Belarus, Putin took
advantage of internal crises and large-scale protests in 2020 and 2021 to
constrain its leader’s room for maneuver. Belarus, which has a so-called
union arrangement with Russia, was then used as the staging ground for the
“special military operation” against Ukraine.

The Russian president has made it clear that his country is a revisionist
power. In a March 2014 speech marking Crimea’s annexation, Putin put the
West on notice that Russia was on the offensive in staking out its regional
claims. To make this task easier, Putin later took steps that he believed
would sanction-proof the Russian economy by reducing its exposure to the
United States and Europe, including pushing for the domestic production of
critical goods. He stepped up repression, conducting targeted
assassinations and imprisoning opponents. He carried out disinformation
operations and engaged in efforts to bribe and blackmail politicians
abroad. Putin has constantly adapted his tactics to mitigate Western
responses—to the point that on the eve of his invasion, as Russian troops
massed on Ukraine’s borders, he bragged to some European interlocutors that
he had “bought the West.” There was nothing, he thought, that the United
States or Europe could do to constrain him.

So far, the West’s reaction to the invasion has generally been united and
robust. Russia’s aggressive attack on Ukraine was a wake-up call for the
United States and its allies. But the West must understand that it is
dealing with a leader who is trying to change the historical narrative of
the last hundred years—not just of the period since the end of the Cold
War. Vladimir Putin wants to make Ukraine, Europe, and indeed the whole
world conform to his own version of history. Understanding his objectives
is central to crafting the right response.

WHO CONTROLS THE PAST?
In Vladimir Putin’s mind, history matters—that is, history as he sees it.
Putin’s conception of the past may be very different from what is generally
accepted, but his narratives are a potent political weapon, and they
underpin his legitimacy. Well before the full invasion of Ukraine on
February 24, 2022, Putin had been making intellectual forays into obscure
periods of the past and manipulating key events to set up the domestic and
international justification for his war. In 2010, at the annual meeting of
the Kremlin-sponsored Valdai International Discussion Club, Putin’s press
spokesman told the audience that the Russian president reads books on
Russian history “all the time.” He makes frequent pronouncements about
Russian history, including about his own place in it. Putin has put Kyiv at
the center of his drive to “correct” what he says is a historical
injustice: the separation of Ukraine from Russia during the 1922 formation
of the Soviet Union.

The president’s obsession with Russia’s imperial past runs deep. In his
Kremlin chambers, Putin has strategically placed statues of the Russian
monarchs Peter the Great and Catherine the Great, who conquered what are
today Ukrainian territories in wars with the Swedish and Ottoman empires.
He has also usurped Ukraine’s history and appropriated some of its most
prominent figures. In November 2016, for example, right outside the Kremlin
gates, Putin erected a statue of Vladimir the Great, the tenth-century
grand prince of the principality of Kyiv. In Putin’s version of history,
Grand Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity on behalf of all of ancient
Rus in 988, making him the holy saint of Orthodox Christianity and a
Russian, not a Ukrainian, Figure. The conversion means that there is no
Ukrainian nation separate from Russia. The grand prince belongs to Moscow,
not to Kyiv.

Since the war, Putin has doubled down on his historical arguments. He
deputized his former culture minister and close Kremlin aide, Vladimir
Medinsky, to lead the Russian delegation in early talks with Ukraine.
According to a well-informed Russian academic, Medinsky was one of the
ghostwriters of a series of essays by Putin on Ukraine and its supposed
fusion with Russia. As quickly became clear, Medinsky’s brief was to press
Russia’s historical claims to Ukraine and defend Putin’s distorted
narratives, not just to negotiate a diplomatic solution.

Putin’s assertions, of course, are historical miasmas, infused with a brew
of temporal and factual contradictions. They ignore, for example, the fact
that in 988, the idea of a united Russian state and empire was centuries
off in the future. Indeed, the first reference to Moscow as a place of any
importance was not recorded until 1147.

BLAMING THE BOLSHEVIKS
On the eve of the invasion, Putin gave a speech accusing Bolshevik leader
Vladimir Lenin of destroying the Russian empire by launching a revolution
during World War I and then “separating, severing what is historically
Russian land.” As Putin put it, “Bolshevik, Communist Russia” created “a
country that had never existed before”—Ukraine—by wedging Russian
territories such as the Donbas region, a center of heavy industry, into a
new Ukrainian socialist republic. In fact, Lenin and the Bolsheviks
essentially recreated the Russian empire and just called it something else.
They established separate Soviet Socialist Republics for Ukraine and other
regions to contrast themselves with the imperial tsars, who reigned over a
united, Russified state and oppressed ethnic minorities. But for Putin, the
Bolsheviks’ decision was illegitimate, robbing Russia of its patrimony and
stirring “zealous nationalists” in Ukraine, who then developed dangerous
ideas of independence. Putin claims he is reversing these century-old
“strategic mistakes.”

Narratives about NATO have also played a special role in Putin’s version of
history. Putin argues that NATO is a tool of U.S. imperialism and a means
for the United States to continue its supposed Cold War occupation and
domination of Europe. He claims that NATO compelled eastern European member
countries to join the organization and accuses it of unilaterally expanding
into Russia’s sphere of influence. In reality, those countries, still
fearful after decades of Soviet domination, clamored to become members.

But according to Putin, these purported actions by the United States and
NATO have forced Russia to defend itself against military encroachment;
Moscow had “no other choice,” he claims, but to invade Ukraine to forestall
it from joining NATO, even though the organization was not going to admit
the country. On July 7, 2022, Putin told Russian parliamentary leaders that
the war in Ukraine was unleashed by “the collective West,” which was trying
to contain Russia and “impose its new world order on the rest of the world.”

The more that Russia tries to erase the Ukrainian national identity, the
stronger it becomes.
But Putin also plays up Russia’s imperial role. At a June 9, 2022, Moscow
conference, Putin told young Russian entrepreneurs that Ukraine is a
“colony,” not a sovereign country. He likened himself to Peter the Great,
who waged “the Great Northern War” for 21 years against Sweden—“returning
and reinforcing” control over land that was part of Russia. This
explanation also echoes what Putin told U.S. President George Bush at the
April 2008 NATO summit in Bucharest: “Ukraine is not a real country.”

The United States was, of course, once a colony of Great Britain. So were
Australia, Canada, India, Ireland, and numerous other states that have been
independent and sovereign for decades. That does not make them British or
give the United Kingdom a contemporary claim to exert control over their
destinies, even though many of these countries have English as their first
or second language. Yet Putin insists that Ukraine’s Russian speakers are
all Moscow’s subjects and that, globally, all Russian speakers are part of
the “Russian world,” with special ties to the motherland.

In Ukraine, however, his push has backfired. Since February 24, 2022,
Putin’s insistence that Ukrainians who speak Russian are Russians has, on
the contrary, helped to forge a new national identity in Ukraine centered
on the Ukrainian language. The more that Putin tries to erase the Ukrainian
national identity with bombs and artillery shells, the stronger it becomes.

CONJURING NAZIS
Ukraine and Ukrainians have a complicated history. Empires have come and
gone, and borders have changed for centuries, so the people living on
modern Ukrainian territory have fluid, compound identities. But Ukraine has
been an independent state since 1991, and Putin is genuinely aggrieved that
Ukrainians insist on their own statehood and civic identity.

Take Putin’s frequent references to World War II. Since 2011, Putin has
enshrined the “Great Fatherland War” as the seminal event for modern
Russia. He has strictly enforced official narratives about the conflict. He
has also portrayed his current operation as its successor; in Putin’s
telling, the invasion of Ukraine is designed to liberate the country from
Nazis. But for Putin, Ukrainians are Nazis not because they follow the
precepts of Adolf Hitler or espouse national socialism. They are Nazis
because they are “zealous nationalists”—akin to the controversial World War
II–era Ukrainian partisan Stepan Bandera, who fought with the Germans
against Soviet forces. They are Nazis because they refuse to admit they are
Russians.

Putin’s conjuring of Ukrainian Nazis has gained more traction domestically
than anywhere else. Yet internationally, Putin’s assertions about NATO and
proxy wars with the United States and the collective West have won a
variety of adherents, from prominent academics to Pope Francis, who said in
June 2022 that the Ukraine war was “perhaps somehow provoked.” Western
politicians and analysts continue to debate whether NATO is at fault for
the war. These arguments persist even though Putin’s 2014 annexation of
Crimea came in response to Ukraine’s efforts to associate with the European
Union, not with NATO. And the debate has gone on, even though when Finland
and Sweden applied to join the alliance in June 2022, despite months of
threats from Russia, Putin told reporters that Kremlin officials “don’t
have problems with Sweden and Finland like we do with Ukraine.” Putin’s
problem, then, was not NATO in particular. It was that Ukraine wanted to
associate with any entity or country other than Russia. Whether Ukraine
wanted to join the European Union or NATO or have bilateral relations with
the United States—any of these efforts would have been an affront to
Russia’s history and dignity.

To Putin, Ukrainians are Nazis because they refuse to admit they are
Russians.
But Putin knows it will be difficult to negotiate a settlement in Ukraine
based on his version of history and to reconcile fundamentally different
stories of the past. Most modern European states emerged from the ruins of
empires and the disintegration of larger multiethnic states. The war in
Ukraine could lead to more Russian interference to stoke simmering
conflicts in weak states such as Bosnia-Herzegovina and other Balkan
countries, where history and territorial claims are also disputed.

Yet no matter the potential cost, Putin wants his past to prevail in
Europe’s political present. And to make sure that happens, the Russian
military is in the field, in full force, fighting the regular Ukrainian
army. Unlike the situation in Donbas from 2014 to 2022, when Russia falsely
denied that it was involved, this war is a direct conflict between the two
states. As Putin also told his Russian parliamentarians on July 7, he is
determined to fight to the last Ukrainian, even though he purportedly sees
Ukrainians as “brothers.”

AT ANY COST
Putin abhors that the United States and European countries are supporting
Ukraine militarily. In response, he has launched an economic and
information war against the West, clearly signaling that this is not only a
military conflict and a battle over who gets to “own history.” Russia has
weaponized energy, grain, and other commodities. It has spread
disinformation, including by accusing Ukraine of committing the very
atrocities that Russia has carried out on the battlefield and by blaming
Western sanctions for exacerbating famines in Africa when it is Russia that
has blocked Ukrainian grain shipments to the continent from the Black Sea.
And in many parts of the world, Russia is winning the information war. So
far, the West has not been able to be completely effective in the
informational space.

Nevertheless, Western support for Ukraine has been significant. This
support has two major elements: weapons and sanctions, including the High
Mobility Artillery Rocket Systems (HIMARS) from the United States, which
have significantly increased Ukraine’s ability to strike back at Russian
targets. Other NATO members have also supplied weapons and humanitarian
assistance. But Ukraine’s constant need to replenish its arms has already
begun to deplete the arsenals of donating countries.

Western energy, financial, and export control sanctions have been
extensive, and they are affecting the Russian economy. But sanctions cannot
alter Putin’s view of history or his determination to subjugate Ukraine, so
they have not changed his calculus or his war aims. Indeed, close observers
say that Putin has rarely consulted his economic advisers during this war,
apart from Elvira Nabiullina, the head of the central bank, who has
astutely managed the value of the ruble. This is a stark break from the
past, when Putin has always appeared extremely interested in the Russian
economy and eager to discuss statistics and growth rates in great detail.
Any concerns about the long-term economic impact of the war have receded
from his view.

Police officers walking past a monument to Peter the Great in Saint
Petersburg, Russia, February 2019
Anton Vagano / Reuters

And to date, Russia’s economy has weathered the sanctions, although growth
rates are forecast to plunge this year. The real pinch from Western export
controls will be felt in 2023, when Russia will lack the semiconductors and
spare parts for its manufacturing sector, and its industrial plants will be
forced to close. The country’s oil industry will especially struggle as it
loses out on technology and software from the international oil industry.

Europe and the United States have imposed wide-ranging energy sanctions on
Russia, with the European Union committed to phasing out oil imports from
Russia by the end of 2022. But limiting gas imports is much more
challenging, as a number of countries, including Germany, have few
alternatives to replace Russian gas in the short term, and Putin has
weaponized energy by severely reducing gas supplies to Europe. For 50
years, the Soviet Union and Russia cast themselves as reliable suppliers of
natural gas to Western Europe in a relationship of mutual dependence:
Europe needed gas, and Moscow needed gas revenues. But that calculation is
gone. Putin believes that Russia can forgo these revenues because countries
still buying Russian oil and gas are paying higher prices for it—higher
prices that he helped provoke by cutting back on Russia’s exports to
Europe. And even if Russia does eventually lose energy revenues, Putin
appears willing to pay that price. What he ultimately cares about is
undermining European support for Ukraine.

Russia’s economic and energy warfare extends to the weaponization of
nuclear power. Russia took over the Chernobyl plant in Ukraine at the
beginning of the war, after recklessly sending Russian soldiers into the
highly radioactive “red zone” and forcing the Ukrainian staff at the plant
to work under dangerous conditions. Then, it abandoned the plant after
having exposed the soldiers to toxic radiation. Russia subsequently shelled
and took over Ukraine’s Zaporizhzhya nuclear power plant, Europe’s largest,
and turned it into a military base. By attacking the power plant and
transforming it into a military garrison, Russia has created a safety
crisis for the thousands of workers there. Putin’s broad-based campaign
does not stop at nuclear energy.


Putin’s goal is not negotiation but Ukrainian capitulation.
Russia has also weaponized food supplies, blockading Ukraine and preventing
it from exporting its abundant grain and fertilizer stocks. In July 2022,
Turkey and the United Nations brokered an agreement to allow Ukraine and
Russia to export grain and fertilizer, but the implementation of this deal
faced multiple obstacles, given the war raging in the Black Sea area.
Indeed, immediately after the official signing of the agreement, Russia
shelled some of the infrastructure at Ukraine’s critical Odessa port.

Putin has fallen back on another historic Russian military tactic—bogging
down opposing forces and waiting for winter. Much as his predecessors
arranged for Napoleon’s armies to be trapped in the snows near Moscow and
for Nazi soldiers to freeze to death outside Stalingrad, Putin plans to
have French and German citizens shivering in their homes. In his speech at
the June 2022 St. Petersburg International Economic Forum, Putin predicted
that, as Europeans face a cold winter and suffer the economic consequences
of the sanctions their governments have imposed on Russia and on Russian
gas exports, populist parties will rise, and new elites will come to power.
The June 2022 parliamentary elections in France, when Marine Le Pen’s
extreme-right party increased its seats elevenfold—largely because of
voters’ unhappiness with their economic situation—reinforced Putin’s
convictions. The collapse of Italian Prime Minister Mario Draghi’s
government in July 2022 and the possible return of a populist, pro-Russian
prime minister in the fall were also considered results of popular economic
discontent. The Kremlin aims to fracture Western unity against Russia under
the pressure of energy shortages, high prices, and economic hardship.

In the meantime, Putin is confident that he can prevail. On the surface,
popular support for the war inside Russia seems reasonably robust. Polling
by the independent Levada Center shows that Putin’s approval rating went up
after the invasion began. Nonetheless, there is good reason for skepticism
about the depth of active support for him. Hundreds of thousands of people
who oppose the war have left the country. Many of them, in doing so, have
explicitly said that they want to be part of Russia’s future but not
Vladimir Putin’s version of the past. Russians who have stayed and publicly
criticized the war have been harassed or imprisoned. Others are
indifferent, or they passively support the war. Indeed, life for most
people in Moscow and other big Russian cities goes on as normal. So far,
the conscripts who have been sent to fight and die are not the children of
Russia’s elites or urban middle class. They are from poor, rural areas, and
many of them are not ethnically Russian. Rumors after five months of combat
that the Moscow-linked Wagner mercenary group was recruiting prisoners to
fight suggested that Russia faced an acute manpower shortage. But the
troops are urged on by propaganda that dehumanizes the Ukrainians and makes
the fighting seem more palatable.

DIVIDE AND CONQUER
Despite calls by some for a negotiated settlement that would involve
Ukrainian territorial concessions, Putin seems uninterested in a compromise
that would leave Ukraine as a sovereign, independent state—whatever its
borders. According to multiple former senior U.S. officials we spoke with,
in April 2022, Russian and Ukrainian negotiators appeared to have
tentatively agreed on the outlines of a negotiated interim settlement:
Russia would withdraw to its position on February 23, when it controlled
part of the Donbas region and all of Crimea, and in exchange, Ukraine would
promise not to seek NATO membership and instead receive security guarantees
from a number of countries. But as Russian Foreign Minister Sergey Lavrov
stated in a July interview with his country’s state media, this compromise
is no longer an option. Even giving Russia all of the Donbas is not enough.
“Now the geography is different,” Lavrov asserted, in describing Russia’s
short-term military aims. “It’s also Kherson and the Zaporizhzhya regions
and a number of other territories.” The goal is not negotiation, but
Ukrainian capitulation.

At any point, negotiations with Russia—if not handled carefully and with
continued strong Western support for Ukraine’s defense and security—would
merely facilitate an operational pause for Moscow. After a time, Russia
would continue to try to undermine the Ukrainian government. Moscow would
likely first attempt to take Odessa and other Black Sea ports with the goal
of leaving Ukraine an economically inviable, landlocked country. If he
succeeds in that, Putin would launch a renewed assault on Kyiv as well,
with the aim of unseating the present government and installing a
pro-Moscow puppet government. Putin’s war in Ukraine, then, will likely
grind on for a long time. The main challenge for the West will be
maintaining resolve and unity, as well as expanding international support
for Ukraine and preventing sanctions evasion.

This will not be easy. The longer the war lasts, the greater the impact
domestic politics will have on its course. Russia, Ukraine, and the United
States will all have presidential elections in 2024. Russia’s and Ukraine’s
are usually slated for March. Russia’s outcome is foreordained: either
Putin will return to power, or he will be followed by a successor, likely
from the security services, who supports the war and is hostile to the
West. Zelensky remains popular in Ukraine as a wartime president, but he
will be less likely to win an election if he makes territorial concessions.
And if Donald Trump or a Republican with views like his becomes president
of the United States in 2025, U.S. support for Ukraine will erode.

Domestic politics will also play a role outside these three countries—and,
in fact, outside the West altogether. The United States and its allies may
want to isolate Russia, but a large number of states in the global South,
led by China, regard the Russia-Ukraine war as a localized European
conflict that does not affect them. China has even backed Russia
rhetorically, refused to impose sanctions, and supported it in the United
Nations. (One should not underestimate the durability and significance of
Russia’s alignment with China.) Indian Foreign Minister Subrahmanyam
Jaishankar summarized the attitude of many developing states when he said
that Russia is a “very important partner in a number of areas.” For much of
the global South, concerns focus on fuel, food, fertilizer, and also arms.
These countries are apparently not concerned that Russia has violated the
UN Charter and international law by unleashing an unprovoked attack on a
neighbor’s territory.

A fire from a gas processing plant hit by shelling in Andriivka, Ukraine,
June 2022
Leah Millis / Reuters

There’s a reason these states have not joined the United States and Europe
in isolating Moscow. Since 2014, Putin has assiduously courted “the
rest”—the developing world—even as Russia’s ties with the West have frayed.
In 2015, for example, Russia sent its military to the Middle East to
support Syrian President Bashar al-Assad in his country’s civil war. Since
then, Russia has cultivated ties with leaders on all sides of that region’s
disputes, becoming one of the only major powers able to talk to all
parties. Russia has strong ties with Iran, but also with Iran’s enemies:
particularly Egypt, Israel, Saudi Arabia, and other Gulf states. In Africa,
Russian paramilitary groups provide support to a number of leaders. And in
Latin America, Russian influence has increased as more left-wing
governments have come to power. There and elsewhere, Russia is still seen
as a champion of the oppressed against the stereotype of U.S. imperialism.
Many people in the global South view Russia as the heir to the Soviet
Union, which supported their post-colonial national liberation movements,
not a modern variant of imperial Russia.

Not only does much of the world refuse to criticize or sanction Russia;
major countries simply do not accept the West’s view of what caused the war
or just how grave the conflict is. They instead criticize the United States
and argue that what Russia is doing in Ukraine is no different from what
the United States did in Iraq or Vietnam. They, like Moscow, justify
Russia’s invasion as a response to the threat from NATO. This is thanks in
part to the Kremlin’s propaganda, which has amplified Putin’s narratives
about NATO and proxy wars and the nefarious actions of the West.

International institutions have not been much more helpful than developing
countries. The United Nations and the Organization for Security and
Cooperation in Europe proved incapable of preventing or stopping this war.
They seem increasingly the victims of Putin’s distorted view of the past as
well as poorly structured to meet the challenges of the present.

DELUSIONS OF GRANDEUR
Putin’s manipulations of history suggest that his claims go beyond Ukraine,
into Europe and Eurasia. The Baltic states might be on his colonial agenda,
as well as Poland, part of which was ruled by Russia from 1772 to 1918.
Much of present-day Moldova was part of the Russian empire, and Russian
officials have suggested that this state could be next in their sights.
Finland was also part of the Russian empire between 1809 and 1918. Putin
may not be able to conquer these countries, but his extravagant remarks
about taking back Russia’s colonies are designed to intimidate his
neighbors and throw them off balance. In Putin’s ideal world, he will gain
leverage and control over their politics by threatening them until they let
Russia dictate their foreign and domestic policies.

In Putin’s vision, the global South would, at a minimum, remain neutral in
Russia’s standoff with the West. Developing nations would actively support
Moscow. With the BRICS organization—Brazil, Russia, India, China, and South
Africa—set to expand to include Argentina, Iran, and possibly Egypt, Saudi
Arabia, and Turkey, Russia may acquire even more partners, ones that
together represent a significant percentage of global GDP and a large
percentage of the world’s population. Russia would then emerge as a leader
of the developing world, as was the Soviet Union during the Cold War.

All this underlines why it is imperative that the West (Australia, Canada,
Japan, New Zealand, Singapore, South Korea, the United States, and Europe)
redouble its efforts to remain united in supporting Ukraine and countering
Russia. In the near term, that means working together to push back against
Russian disinformation about the war and false historical narratives, as
well as the Kremlin’s other efforts to intimidate Europe—including through
deliberate nuclear saber-rattling and energy cutoffs. In the medium to long
term, the United States, its allies, and its partners should discuss how to
restructure the international and European security architecture to prevent
Russia from attacking other neighbors that it deems within its sphere. But
for now, NATO is the only institution that can guarantee Europe’s security.
Indeed, Finland’s and Sweden’s decision to join was in part motivated by
that realization.

As he looks toward a quarter century in power, Putin seeks to build his
version of a Russian empire. He is “gathering in the lands” as did his
personal icons—the great Russian tsars—and overturning the legacy of Lenin,
the Bolsheviks, and the post–Cold War settlement. In this way, Putin wants
Russia to be the one exception to the inexorable rise and fall of imperial
states. In the twentieth century, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire
collapsed after World War I. Britain and France reluctantly gave up their
empires after World War II. But Putin is insistent on bringing tsarist
Russia back. Regardless of whether he prevails in Ukraine, Putin’s mission
is already having a clear and ironic impact, both on Europe and on Russia’s
22 years of economic advancement. In reasserting Russia’s imperial position
by seeking to reconquer Ukraine, Putin is reversing one of the greatest
achievements of his professed greatest hero. During his reign, Peter the
Great opened a window to the West by traveling to Europe, inviting
Europeans to come to Russia and help develop its economy, and adopting and
adapting European artisans’ skills. Vladimir Putin’s invasions and
territorial expansions have slammed that window shut. They have sent
Europeans and their companies back home and pushed a generation of talented
Russians fleeing into exile. Peter took Russia into the future. Putin is
pushing it back to the past.

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