17-8-23

Dear Partners in Thought,

After eighteen months of the staggering (and failed) Russian invasion of Ukraine, it is worth trying to understand what drove it – and what supports it. Many recall the surprising statement from Foreign Minister Lavrov that led to massive audience laughter at a conference in India that Russia launched its “special military operation” as NATO was about to invade Russia. In July 2022, Putin, who had already written a big pre-war philosophical piece on the existential nature of Russia and its unity with Ukraine in mid-2021, made a speech at the Duma stressing that “the war was unleashed by the collective West, which organised and supported the unconstitutional coup in Ukraine in 2014 and justified genocide against the people of Donbass”. Hence the strange use of neo-Nazi appellation to describe the Ukrainian leadership (all the more knowing the religious roots of the Ukrainian president). Putin made it clear, probably to find some hard to find justification and a way to decrease the lack of results on the ground, that the West was the instigator and the culprit of the invasion of Ukraine. This invasion became no less than “the start of the breakdown of the US-style world order” also responsible for so many Russian and indeed world problems. This was “the transition from liberal-globalist American egocentrism to a truly multi-polar world based not on self-serving rules made up by someone for their own needs, behind which there is nothing but striving for hegemony, and not on hypocritical double standards but on international law and the genuine sovereignty of nations and civilisations, on their will to live with their historical destiny, with their own values and traditions.”  

The invasion of Ukraine had taken on a very practical existential role for Russia so as to make the move very noble, in a drive for Gaullian grandeur-restoration, all the more in what was portrayed as an increasingly value-less world without moral compass. All of this while Ukrainian civilian infrastructure was massively hit, civilians themselves were butchered like in Bucha (even if Russia would later argue this was staged by Ukraine) and a massive number of children were deported to Russia to welcoming new parents, in what would become a clear war crime against humanity. All these official statements would easily project a world upside down that only the boldest science fiction movies and books, like Orwell’s 1984, could have shown before. While many were ready for a Kremlin going to any length to achieve its goals, one of the key questions would then become: How could the Russian people buy this type of story-telling? As they seemed to do.          

Russia displays many, largely noble, explanations for this invasion that do not resonate well in the mostly Cartesian (even if declining for the Kremlin and many Russians) West. Notwithstanding the plausible argument that the West is in fact much stronger at many key levels today. Two major features to review are the war, led by a values-based Russia against the degenerative West via Ukraine that needs to be saved, and the feelings of a strong majority of Russians that Putin is right, and the war is just or that they are not opposed to it also in a form of apathy and refusal to see things for what they are. Jade McGlynn just wrote “Russia’s War” (and not just “Putin’s War”) to explain the two key points and its related ones from a Russian perspective. McGlynn is a young King’s College War Studies scholar with much actual exposure to Putin’s Russia, and her needed book is enlightening, even if some Russian critics may point to some unlikely support from MI6 or the dark corridors of Langley. This is a very detailed book that goes into many features around those two key points, making it for an arduous and possibly repetitive read at times, all the more given the challenging times we know.     

No leader in the West launching an invasion of a neighbour (admittedly all the more in the heart of old Europe) would enjoy an 80% approval rating – but Putin does. While the reliability of poll ratings in Russia can be discussed, a leader like Putin rarely goes down below 60%. On a key note, even the younger generations (18-24, 25-39 groups) support Putin (although slightly less so than the older ones). This can be explained by a majority of Russians wanting (if not needing) a strong leader—this mainly as the result of the shock linked to the collapse of the Soviet Union and the terrible 1990s that created societal disorder. A consequence of which was the ascension of a kleptocratic system that Putin eventually controlled and used to serve his (and his nascent co-leadership’s) needs in a strange and inflexible virtuous model. Many Russians— especially of the younger and skilled generations with post-cold war global aspirations—left Russia in 2022, some simply to avoid conscription. Yet a vast majority is not keen to go against the war and the authorities (especially in non-major urban areas as expected but clearly not only). This is helped by a unique propaganda machine, operating in a welcoming target population territory, and a highly repressive system that guarantees long-term jail if the word “war” is even publicly mentioned. (On a side note, it would appear that the Kremlin would actually prefer passivity to the actual support of its population). 

The Russian liberals who do not like Putin are actually rather condescending when it comes to Ukraine, as seen with the likes of Navalny’s and other groups. As a result, Russians do not oppose the war and are rather apathetic, some even blaming the West for the Western sanctions that deprived them of products they came to like since the 1990s (not the main objective of such sanctions for sure). Some analysts draw bold comparisons with the attitude of most Parisians during the German “occupation”, as they generally preferred to go on with their daily lives as if nothing had really happened (forgetting the many actions of the “resistance” back then, and de facto implying that Russians were actually “occupied” by their own in the Putin era). Even religion is playing a role in supporting the “special military operation” in Ukraine, notably with the well-known and politically-engaged Russian Orthodox Church Patriarch Kirill, who is naturally close to the Kremlin. To what would be his forebear’s spiritual dismay, the grandson of atheist Soviet leader Molotov, who is a member of the Kremlin-captive Duma, stressed multiple times the “holy” nature of the war. 

In one of the ongoing features strengthening the Kremlin’s Orwellian propaganda approach, Russian history is officially rewritten in ways the country has known under Stalin with the main objective of creating a new Russian identity. The focus is permanent and on school textbooks, television shows, films, festivals, military history tours and even historical re-enactment clubs and student discussion societies while murals and even statues are added, especially in the last ten years, to the existential and patriotic display. The Christian roots of Russia, the defeat of Napoleon and the Great Patriotic War are much stressed alongside Peter and Catherine the Great while the lost Gorbachev and anarchic Yeltsin eras are quasi-demonised, the latter responding to the natural sorrows of many Russians. Ukraine, which was initially to be saved, is now often depicted as the ultra-nationalist state where no dissent can exist and opposition is banned while anything Russian is deemed to be hostile.  The Russian population is flooded day in day out with messages that underpin an existential Russian and indeed imperialistic rebirth, this without any easy access to alternative views, most if not all Western or opposition conduits being banned as deemed propaganda-flavoured.        

Jade McGlynn often refers to Dmitri Trenin, a former senior officer in Soviet and Russian military intelligence, who led the Carnegie Moscow Center, the key local post of the well-known think tank since the mid-1990s (on a personal note he even gave an internship to my older daughter). While a very fine, highly intellectual man, and de facto one of the most sensible Washington-Moscow “conduits”, he decided to leave the Carnegie Endowment a few months into the invasion as he felt deeply supportive of it. Trenin, a former member of the “Westerniser realist camp”, who knows the West better than most Russians, made statements about the need to defend Russian culture also against what the West represents today “with its civilisation of consumption, its gender innovations and so on”.  To him, clearly winning in Ukraine and “inflicting damage to the Western enemy” is about survival for Russia – not simply a return to imperial history as Putin likes. I was exchanging with him at the beginning of the conflict but did not foresee such a drastic position and rupture (which I took initially as a proof that he was de facto a prisoner of the system and had too much family in Russia as he does). While Trenin’s statements are very strong, it is also clear the state of affairs across the West (and especially in the US with its great and quasi un-American political divide, wild mass shootings and exacerbated forms of capitalism), does not help in rejecting the Kremlin scenario. Nor does this scenario not fall on deaf ears, with many Russians looking at the world and grieving post-Cold War shocks. 

It is also true that Russia was not treated with the most care by Western powers in the early to mid-1990s, as they wanted to ensure it would quickly become part of a nascent globalised, and increasingly rootless, world—even if wanting to improve the material conditions of many along the way. On a side but key note, McGlynn stresses that the main enemy of old Russia is often seen today as Britain, due to its ancient imperial history (and the odd fact that it founded America) far more than the US, in spite of its massive aid to Ukraine to date, or Western Europe—this perhaps also linked to Boris Johnson and Rishi Sunak’s fierce support of Kyiv. While the invasion is now seen in Moscow as a war of liberation, Russia would also seem to endure it in order to get rid of Anglo-Saxon influence across Europe. To some in the Russian leadership, the Ukraine “special military operation” is not simply about Ukraine but also much more about Europe, of which Russia sees itself as a key part, and its very soul. 

It is hard not to try to understand, admittedly to some difficult extent, the Russians who do not want to face the horrors of the war and prefer to find some noble or practical rationale for it or stay away from the topic. Many of us would follow that sad path in their very shoes, and given their too often tragic history. Until late 2021 I wanted myself to ensure that we anchored Russia not only to the West but to the world through globalisation that would ensure a lesser focus on military solutions and would nicely “trap” nations over time into working together, as they would have too much to lose otherwise (a recipe applicable to China today that seems to need it more than Beijing may have initially thought). It is also our duty to explain to Russians that the course taken by the Kremlin goes against the interests of all parties, and at the same time makes them supportive of mass murders and war crimes. This is true, even if the latter are still well managed by the Kremlin’s propaganda machine and totally dismissed as fake news or hard to accept by most of the general population. 

Jade McGlynn’s book reveals a Russia most of us did not know, and which needs to gradually change over time, but will also unlikely support a coup in the Kremlin. The sanctions-rooted 40% decline in value of the rouble in 2023, and the likely associated inflation surge and economic crisis to follow (not ideal when funding a large-scale war) may hurt Russians and (some Western analysts hope) make them question the cost of the war, given the roots of such developments. However, it may largely remain a private or dinner table matter, given the known dynamics. As often seen in history, a coup would more likely come from the current weakened leadership (the odd Wagner insurrection, if there was one, being an erratic example, even if it showed inherent autocratic weaknesses) but is no guarantee for a better scenario for a Ukraine war that will otherwise last long—possibly with Western population support gradually waning as seen today in the US and that could be lethally dealt with in a “Trump 2024”. Hence the need for a strengthened Western resolve and speedy delivery of what is needed to win or reach the negotiation table (also making sure Kyiv is not adopting unmanageable positions like regarding the future of Crimea).  

On a very personal note that may resonate with many in the West, I would like to stress that we should not see all Russians as evil, even if one supports Ukraine and/or is naturally opposed to outdated imperialistic moves, especially in old Europe. Many Russians left their country as they could not stand the invasion, or did not want to be part of it for many personal reasons. Many Russians lived outside Russia before the invasion and even liked a Putin style, following the shambolic state of their country in the 1990s. Russians should never be rejected for being Russian, even if they ought to be sensibly and respectfully engaged on the matter of the Ukraine tragedy and its many ramifications at all societal and world levels. At some point, we will rebuild Ukraine (as many development financial institutions seem to be ready to go for in a well-planned but premature way) but we will also need to help re-building and re-shaping Russia – with the Russians and for us all.   

Warmest regards, 

Serge

11-04-23

Dear Partners in thought,

The war in Ukraine has been a catalyst for what many see as the start of a potential reshaping of the world order—an order we have known since WW2 and the end of the Cold War. The fall of the Soviet Union gave rise to three decades of relative world peace and strong growth (even if they were peppered by crises like in 2008), driven by an unprecedented globalisation. Both world peace and globalisation are under threat today as new and stronger party lines are being defined along two camps. It is worth calmly reviewing the situation and assessing whether this new world order forecast will materialise and endure. Or whether, more importantly, the West may lose its historical supremacy.    

The two not-so-new camps are being largely defined on one side by the West—a strong unity between the US and Europe rooted in the transatlantic alliance via NATO (allied with, among other countries, Canada, Japan, South Korea, Australia and New Zealand). This is indeed reminiscent of the post-WW2 era, and has been strengthened as a result of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. As stated in a recent Book Note, the West—while its societies suffer from too much social media-focused individualism, vote-grabbing incompetent populism, and capitalism at times losing its soul—is still predominant worldwide. And that is despite an uncertain American leadership, weakened by many domestic challenges, and a Europe still going through existential changes and weakened by a specious Brexit.  

The other camp, that is not yet defining itself easily, is led by President Xi’s resurgent ambitious-for-world-supremacy China, and an increasingly-lost Russia, that needs a strong partner even though it is relegated to a new and very junior role. While the US-Europe camp is based on democratic values, the China-Russia camp is reflecting an autocracy that has risen over the last ten years in their midst. There is more coherence and commonality of values and interests within the US-Europe camp than in the China-Russia one, even if the defining basis of the latter is primarily found in its opposition to (if not rejection of) America and its longstanding world leadership. While Europe and the EU may fight against America on trade subsidies and similar economic matters, they are one on issues of democracy and the international world order as we have known it. The China-Russia camp is more the expression of the “enemy of my enemy must be my friend” which may be tactically viable but not the strongest construct in its essence. Meanwhile the world is at a crossroads since the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Major emerging world actors position themselves alongside one of the two camps depending on the policy or matter at hand. The US-Europe camp, even if going through many travails in recent years, is still much stronger than its “would-be” rival and its relatively weak and disparate club of (at times sizeable) followers—this in spite of many recent developments. If anything, the main achievement of the China-Russia club, however partly unwitting, was to provide the world with future years of likely slower economic growth, through the combination of two events stressed last week by the Head of the IMF, viz. Covid-19 and the Ukraine invasion. This is hardly a positive advertisement for any future aspiring world order. 

A third camp-in-the-making, or actually sub-camp, is the Global South—comprising disparate members with, at times, little in common, each following one of the two main camps (depending on their tactical priorities of the moment). Of late, the Global South has seemed to look after its economic interests first, and Western concerns or the old-fashioned international world order and its values later—this being helped by the fact that a war in Europe is clearly not their concern. The Global South is increasingly taking neutral or tactical stances in the rising “great new rivalry” (if not yet conflict), when not actually taking sides with the China-led coalition-in-the-making. Not a surprising stance given rooted resentments for the traditional Western supremacy, if not ancestral or at times perceived actual colonialism. Africa has been a clear example of such positioning with many of its countries (notably including currently problem-ridden South Africa) wanting to deal with China and its Belt and Road Initiative, or clearly putting the West and the US in competition with China or indeed Russia as VP Kamala Harris noticed during her recent “marketing” trip there.

As for Latin America, a new world order-in-the-making may also be perceived as a potentially better redistribution of cards in relation to dealing with its closer (and also too powerful) Northern neighbour. Turkey in its election year plays a high wire act between being close to the West, a helpful and well-paid migrant manager for the EU and a key NATO member (even if still not willing to open the door of the latter to Sweden) while being an understanding mediator and at times a bit more with Moscow. Saudi Arabia, that now often oscillates between both factions, has clearly chosen a path disliked by the West at this particular juncture in reducing oil output with OPEC and triggering a price rise in early April. Modi’s India seems to go increasingly the autocratic way, looking at its crass treatment of the opposition while buying more Russian oil.  Many Global South members naturally play a very opportunistic and inconsistent card of their own, without necessarily formally taking sides—all while periodically affecting the great new rivalry in the making.         

Besides sheer geography, the new world order, as it might be redefined, clearly pins a recently-weakened democracy against a stronger autocracy, the latter of all flavours. It is yet not clear that democracy as we know it, a still young historical construct, will survive if it is not ready to stand firm and eventually fight through its many means. It would, however, be too early to believe that the West is in a losing position as the world evolves, even if democracy may be actually much harder to manage in a fast-paced 21^st century than a simpler autocracy—especially for leaderships and populations more historically at ease with this concept and way of life. When looking at this potential new world order—or indeed disorder—reshaping, it is best to look at the various components and dynamics at play.

While remaining the undisputed leader of the (so-called for some) Free World, America today is dealing with domestic challenges not experienced in recent history. Moderate America seems to have been replaced by a rise of the extremes in both of its main parties. The unforeseen Trump presidential ascendency in 2016 gave rise to a hardening of positions taken by the Republican party, and more voice to extreme conservative (if not reactionary) types not much heard previously. At the same time, the Woke movement on the left took extreme positions in many walks of American life: both extreme wings also being driven by a strong financial incentive to many of their leaders and promoters, themselves helped by ever-present social media and traditional media squabbling over a declining audience.

Moderates in America, historically driven by public common sense, have become a minority—as shown by the legislative inability to enact sensible gun control to avoid daily mass shootings in schools and malls across the country. The recent Trump indictment, whatever its rationale, be it political or not, is another example of what many would describe as another proof of the American decline—while some would also rightly argue it shows that no one is above the law, even in our troubled times. A new Trump presidency in 2024, however unlikely, would be a major blow for the West—especially Europe—all the more as only 25% of US GDP is linked to international trade. This makes isolationism or “America First” an easier way of government than would be the case in any other major country, China included. (It is clear that Trump’s indictment increases his chances of winning the GOP primary, which many Democrats like Biden or another Democratic candidate would rightly prefer him as a more easily-beatable candidate in November 2024).

American extremism is also shown in the handling of its foreign policy with unnecessary trips to Taiwan by the House majority Leader, or quasi-provocations rooted in domestic politics. Both fuel a Chinese leadership’s anger that needs little provocation in the new assertive Xi era. The best American way to protect Taiwan is simply to be found in supporting Ukraine and ensuring its victory—a stance that some leading GOP members like Ron DeSantis may unwisely (and it turned out at their own costs) disagree with. The US approach to TikTok, whatever its merits, is also another expression of a shift to a Cold War mentality even if, by the same token, spy balloons should never be welcome. Moderation and common sense are what may be missing most in the US domestic and international political discourse, but these key features seem to still prevail at the right time. Not least because they are also based on the fact that America’ strengths have not disappeared in terms of actual leadership: world GDP, innovation, culture, military clout and overall message to other nations. America is still the leader of the West, and the latter is more united than ever due to the Ukraine war, even if the word “free” attached to the old appellation of “Free World” is harder at times to recall or notice for some.      

While China is still searching for ways to capitalise on its global ascension, it seems to be hesitating between being a peacemaker (as seen with its concocting the Saudi-Iran rapprochement) and belonging to an anti-Western front, through an unclear Kremlin visit and military exercises together with an imperial—if not imperious—Russia and an outcast self-searching Iranian follower. It is clear that Xi’s style is more focused than ten years ago on making China a world leader and on the rivalry with the American nemesis. This new approach also takes place as China’s economy and demographics are no longer what they were, forcing the Chinese leadership to be more practical, for example by not heavily controlling the local tech sector (see the potential return of Jack Ma at least in the news) and its foreign investors as it did in recent years. China is far more pragmatic than some of Xi’s official statements may suggest, also remembering that its rather obedient middle class is more vocal than their parents, and its formerly docile behaviour was also linked to enjoying the benefits of a peaceful globalised world—notably through outbound tourism and buying Western goods.

Not being the China of Mao or Deng, its desire to be respected as a global power is natural. The West should encourage its willingness to be more active in the context of a peaceful, if competitive, relationship with the US. China is first and foremost a pragmatic country that has little to gain from military confrontation—assuming it could indeed manage a conflict. This might be unlikely, given the rigid Chinese command structure which mirrors the Party one. Perhaps as with Russia, this is a common feature of autocracies. It is unlikely that China would invade Taiwan, even if military exercises close to its shores are often seen as retributions, like for the recent meeting in California between the Taiwanese President and US House Leader McCarthy. China is unlikely to back Russia militarily in Ukraine, given the clearly-stated red line, or to get closer to Moscow than what we see today. As long as it is perceived as a true leading country worthy of world supremacy aspirations, Beijing will play a tactical supportive game with Moscow, provided it can continue to play its chips well in international trade, and salvage the remaining needed globalisation. The Belt and Road Initiative, which so far has been an economic burden, if not failure for China, is more likely to continue being one of its main tools of foreign policy, as long as no provocations arise from Washington. Xi’s desired legacy is not to be remembered for his wars, but through an assertive will to build a stronger China by other strategic means. While China is clearly building a leading world role, its natural ascension is not imperialistic in a return of old history like Russia under Putin, for which other peaceful ways to exist meaningfully are closed off today.               

Russia is going through its most existentially-challenging period in its modern history. From a major power during the Cold War, and still a key country post-Soviet era having adjusted gradually to a globalised world, its leadership felt it had lost its deserved historical status and reverted to old imperialistic ways, unseen in Europe on that scale since WW2, to reassert itself. Far from regaining its perceived lost status, Russia showed unforeseen military weakness and poor leadership, giving it today no choice but to resort to being a China-follower in what would be a new autocratic world order. It is unlikely that China would support a more aggressive Russia elsewhere in Europe (beyond Ukraine, the mercenary Wagner Group is now rumoured to be looking at the Western Balkans) or in Africa (where the Wagner Group helps Russia make a comeback though with a military focus, like in Mali and Burkina Faso). However, the Russian economy, which the West expected to collapse nine months ago, has shown strong signs of resiliency and indeed reorientation—helped by both China and India buying its oil and gas. It remains to be seen whether Russia and its leadership can go on as if there had been no invasion of Ukraine, given the situation after 14 months, and the unlikely short-term ending or positive outcome for the Kremlin. Russian leadership traditionally falls on badly-managed wars, as clearly seen in 1917.

Russian society, while well under control today with no information outside the realm of state media, and an increased security apparatus in action, is questioning the war more and more — all the more within its elite that feels deprived of what the post-Soviet world had offered them (as shown in recent phone call leaks reflecting the general mood). Rage and despair are noticeable among technocrats and bureaucrats, military officials and even security service “siloviki” who now have joined the unhappiness of the oligarchs who have lost their yachts and ways of life. The recent trend of unhappiness may strengthen the Kremlin’s hard societal management, though not without avoiding the fate of previous Russian leaderships when the wider population and its elite (those who stayed) are gradually confronted with reality that time does not help. With the likes of the mercenary Wagner Group’s criticism of the Kremlin management of the “special operation” it is not clear that a coup or a leadership demise would naturally result in a more liberal and Western-like Russia in the short term. While an Ides of March’s Julius Caesar scenario is not unthinkable, most astute observers are wary of its aftermath with, at best, the rise of a less warmongering, but still hyper-nationalist post-Serbia-like Milosevic Russia that would evolve in a flawed democracy, while remaining at odds with the West.

Hopes of a Western-like liberal democratic Russia ended on a Moscow night and bridge in 2015 when Boris Nemtsov was assassinated. Today Russia, with its oil and gas that it sells less to Europe, is more and more looking like an isolated Saudi Arabia with nukes. The state of Russia today is not a sign that the new world order shows a very strong replacement for the West, again given that autocracies are not the best at such grand designs, being focused on domestic control first and foremost. It is clear that the West, while supporting Ukraine and ensuring Russia does not win there, should also make sure the natural divide of the opportunistic weak partnership between Moscow and Beijing is further affected, thus the need for the avoidance of noble but ill-thought-through provocations against the latter. Having said this, an alliance of nationalists is always an odd concept, even if there is never any guarantee that a Sino-Soviet-like split would always occur, however likely. The last thing the world needs is a collapse of Russia leading to a period of domestic chaos with ultra-nationalists eventually taking over a now hard-line Soviet-styled but still predictable Putin regime.              

Europe is known today through the EU as the world-leading trading bloc. But it is also a Western sub-club of, at times, 27 very different member-states across the ancient Cold War divide: from an old France, with a very deep history, to a new Croatia. The EU today comprises very pragmatic Germany and foreign policy-ambivalent Hungary. Not to mention the ceaselessly Brussels-sensitive (but Ukraine-highly supportive) Poland. As previously stated, one clear lesson to be drawn for all European nations, including those that made past world history, is that “the power of the bloc”, such as with the EU and the critical need for it to go beyond its main trade focus, is now essential.  While Europe is broadly the EU and its former UK partner, the concept and reality of the bloc matters more today. A probable Labour government in two years will likely continue, more strongly than any moderate and clear-thinking Tory one today, to bring the UK closer to the EU, while likely not re-joining it for some years. The Ukraine invasion transformed the EU through unexpected and rapid changes in its energy, economic and security policies—not to mention the rejection of any future Merkel-inspired plans to integrate Russia more closely into Europe, at least for the foreseeable future. In a stark contrast with decades of quasi-pacifism, Germany notably abandoned a historically-rooted and virtuous but not economically unhelpful refusal to focus on defence and military matters—even if actual transition takes time.

Key EU member states like France are adopting a less antagonistic stance towards China— the EU largest trading partner—than the US, serving both parties’ interests as China also needs Europe on trade. All while EU Commission President von der Leyen (incidentally a former German defence minister) clearly stated to Xi that China’s active Ukraine mediation would be a determining factor in EU-China relations. Taiwan is not much mentioned in European capitals, even if they support its “independence” and Prague is closed to Taipei, having cancelled a twin city partnership with Beijing in 2019. Macron’s visit to Beijing last week clearly showed a more moderate approach, not only aimed at bolstering trade and cultural relations with China, but also attempting at making Beijing more neutral in its stance towards Moscow with the challenging aim of finding “a shared responsibility for peace” or an equivalent to the Saudi-Iranian settlement the latter engineered, even if for its own diplomatic rationale. While the EU will get stronger at many levels, including on defence as wanted by Macron for some time, it will distance itself from Russia with relationship rebuilding taking at least a generation. At the same time the EU will redefine its position towards China in focusing more on “security and control” away from “an era of reform and opening” without weakening economic relations, or forgetting mutual work on the environment and nuclear proliferation, so as to keep working together on common issues. If anything, Europe, through the EU and its likely gradually closer British partner and eventually member anew, may unexpectedly emerge following the ill-fated Russian move in Ukraine as the inherently strongest member of the West, even if the latter will still be led by a soul-searching America.         

At a time when the Middle East, known for having been the centre of world upheaval since 2001, following the disastrous Iraq war and subsequent Arab Spring, is going through another set of unsettling developments, largely due to the rise of an extremist Israeli government, the world order has not yet changed in spite of the unprecedented since 1945 full-scale invasion of a European country. It is important for the West, democracy—and by extension the world—that Ukraine wins (or does not lose) a war that is far more than territorial in nature. At this point, the world order is still the one we know, and is unlikely to change soon. But it requires some serious attention and care from the West and especially its leader, still the “indispensable country” of my youth, also at home.   

Warmest regards,

Serge    

24-3-23

Dear Partners in Thought,

I wanted to introduce you to a great book that is perhaps one of the best concerning the Russian invasion of Ukraine today—even while the subject matter is still unfolding before us.

“Invasion” is a timely book and also, indeed, great reportage for its quality and that of its author, Luke Harding.  I met Luke in February at an event of the Prague Center for Transatlantic Relations, an excellent think tank in Prague whose focus and location vividly reflects our times and indeed geography. Luke Harding is a seasoned journalist from The Guardian with a longstanding focus on Russia and its society for years. As a sign of the new Russian times to come he had been The Guardian Moscow correspondent as of 2007 and was expelled in 2011, already being a nuisance to the Kremlin at a time when only the dreadful Litvinenko murder and the unexpected old-style invasion of South Ossetia had happened and made public news. At the time, the West was rather silent with only “limited and conventional responses” to gradual Russian aggressive moves as a prelude to its relatively mild positions when Crimea would be taken and eastern Ukraine occupied in 2014. Putin felt the West was weak and irresolute, thus fuelling his ambitions for a Russian imperial return that would be skilfully sold within Russia via now state-controlled media and an only too willing “captive” audience—the latter being expertly addressed in the book.

In its opening, Harding addresses the many events led by Putin that announced the invasion, while relating many comments of Russians about them. He starts by exploring how Putin tried to “rationalise” (a word that is admittedly hard to apply to the Russian leader) the non-existence of Ukraine as an independent country, stressing its inherent belonging to Mother Russia. This was clearly demonstrated in Putin’s two-hour historical tirade on Russia and Ukraine in June 2021, that left scholars around the world puzzled, where he tried to give a quasi-academic justification for events to come eight months later. Harding reminds us of the war against neo-Nazis and the liberation of Ukrainian brothers well before stressing that the war (or “special operation”) was essentially a pre-emptive strike against NATO and the West who were about to attack Russia. Putin’s statements that left the West speechless were only a prelude to comments, such as Sergei Lavrov’s at a conference in India one year into the invasion, stating the West had actually attacked Russia, thus triggering a massive laughter from the audience, even if from the rather neutral and (for many) too accommodating Global South. As the war turned out to be challenging for Russia, Harding provides insights as to Putin’s leadership style, micro-management and martial tendencies combined with utter ignorance about military matters (not unlike Defence Minister Sergei Shoigu) in a reminiscence of his admired Nicholas I and his failed Crimean war, Nicholas II and the regime-changing WW1 (or a Stalin who did not want to listen to Russian intelligence about a forthcoming massive Nazi offensive, as he knew better). In stark contrast to someone now also under Hague ICC warrant for the forced transfer of children, Harding projects Zelenskyy and how a great local actor, who played President in the famed “Servant of the People” and was an early proponent of dialogue with Russia, became a new Churchill and the most admired leader on earth—or at least in the West.

Harding was on the ground in Ukraine immediately before and during the invasion, giving us both a reminder of events most of us saw on our screen and read about—as if it were a distant story or a movie that could not be real in our day and age. He sensed that the invasion was coming in February 2022, an event that US and British intelligence had repeatedly stressed, but might have been dismissed by too many as unrealistic in 2022, 77 years after the end of WW2 and all the more at the heart of Europe. Harding’s connections with many key individuals in not only Ukraine but also Russia, provide us with a very personal perspective of all these events. Names like Kherson oblast, Mariupol, the Donbas region and even the small city of Bucha, where the first known war crimes occurred, all covered by specific chapters, are coming back to us. His book is a “first rough draft of history” as it infolded in front of us. He also gives us a better understanding for Ukraine through a number of poets and political thinkers from both Russia and Ukraine, while stressing the tolerance of the West for all the exactions of the Kremlin ranging from the killings of dissidents outside Russia to the annexation of Crimea in 2014—eight years before the full-scale invasion. He stresses the incredible failure of Russian forces to seize Kyiv in a week as planned, and the impact on the image of the Russian military, due to its many weak features reminiscent of a history most had forgotten. Russian soldiers and their “Z”-marked vehicles did not know where they were going, expected a short trip with no resistance, and had been told they would be welcome as liberators from the neo-Nazis by the Slavic brothers. Supply lines broke, food disappeared and looting started. Harding stresses the reckless approach of the Russian military command in its seizure of the forbidden area of Chornobyl, putting the lives of its own troops in clear danger with likely future health consequences. Then Kharkiv, home to Russian speakers and nationals, and its residential buildings starting to be the target of missiles and drones in a derailed Russian war scenario. We remember the long convoy of Russian tanks and trucks on their way to Kyiv ultimately going nowhere. He witnesses for us the awakening of a nation and its indomitable fighting spirit. Harding naturally addresses the Kremlin-unexpected resilience of the West and strengthening of NATO as a result of the invasion from another age.

While the war in Ukraine still rages—now at times with days without major news (short of missile strikes launched against residential buildings) likely triggered by a lack of ammunitions on both sides but mainly Russia’s—Harding’s earlier conclusion is that “Russia had basically lost”. This sentiment, which is rooted in the fact that war is still on after one year is definitely correct, but Ukraine needs support so it wins the war—not only for itself but also for all of us and for the heart of Europe to go back to a stable peace where old-fashioned warmonger and existentially-lost states are kept at bay. Harding’s book may be the first chapter of a redefinition of the world order as we have seen it since WW2 and then the end of the Cold War. The West, while its societies suffer from too much social media-focused individualism, vote-grabbing incompetent populism, and capitalism at times losing its soul, is still predominant worldwide, with an uncertain American leadership weakened by many domestic challenges and a Europe (still going through existential changes) that was weakened by an illusory Brexit. While China is still searching for ways to assert its global ascension, it seems to be hesitating between being a peacemaker (as seen with the Saudi-Iran rapprochement) and belonging to an anti-Western front, through an unclear Kremlin visit and military exercises together with an imperial—if not imperious—Russia and an outcasted self-searching Iranian follower (even if an erratic North Korea is not sought as a partner yet in this opportunistic construct). There is an odd and opportunistic alliance in the making based on “the enemy of my enemy must be my friend” that, if unclear and not based on solid foundations, also carries its own set of problems—not only for the West but for the world. To borrow from Mao’s prescient 1957 words, as the FT’s Gideon Rachman reminded us this week, there is a possible risk that the East wind might indeed be stronger than the West wind just now. This world order redefinition takes place as the now newly-defined Global South is increasingly taking neutral or tactical stances in the rising “great new rivalry” (if not yet conflict) when not actually taking sides with the China-led coalition in the potential making. The new world as it is redefined clearly pins democracy against autocracy, the latter of all flavours. It is not clear that democracy as we know it, a still young historical construct, will survive if it is not ready to stand firm and eventually fight through its many means. One clear lesson to be drawn for all European nations, including those that made past world history, is that “the power of the bloc”, such as with the EU and the critical need for it to go beyond its main trade focus, is now essential. 

Democratic survival is why the West (and many in the Global South) should support Ukraine so it wins and Russia is squarely defeated—thus prompting regime change in Moscow along traditional historical lines (even if never a guarantee of a return to more Kremlin rationality). The time, which is clearly tougher for Western citizens with higher energy and food prices though not lethal, is not for weak and slow support of Ukraine, which will be self-hurting later for the West. The Ukraine conflict is not simply about territory, even if Estonian PM Kaja Kallas might rightfully be more nuanced on the point, while by the same token, President Zelenskyy should adopt a sensible and wise approach to Crimea today. It is also about the world as it should be, according to the sound rules of law and values the West has promoted since the last global conflict, however imperfect they may be. Once Russia is squarely defeated (but not before), our times may oddly be back to those of George Kennan and his containment approach found in his famed February 1946 “long telegram,” already dealing with an expansionist Kremlin. We should all hope for the likes of Donald Trump and Governor Ron DeSantis to get the message regarding support for Ukraine beyond sheer electoral tactics sadly fitting our current Western political era. While Russia may have lost, Ukraine, now “a proven state” as stressed in the last chapter of the book, has not won yet, this with few end game scenarios being offered (my very point to Harding at the think tank) short of getting ready for a long conflict. We should make sure Luke Harding’s next and tenth book will tell us how Ukraine and the right values finally won. Today we are all Ukrainians.

Warmest regards,

Serge