There’s a phrase from the second Iraq war era that has stuck with me; ‘big hand, small map’. It’s a pithy summary of the way that large, complex problems can look simple from a distance or when reduced to a handy chart or slideshow.
Iraq, and Afghanistan, seem to have taught the current administration in Washington lessons; notably that there are limits to what it can do with hard power; that other nations don’t like external parties determining their future; that not everyone wants to be, or live like, an American.
This is not a bad thing, yet just as generals are often accused of a tendency to prepare to fight the last war, the same can also be true of politicians.
That may partly account for the West’s incrementalism in Ukraine. Whereas the watchwords in Iraq were ‘shock and awe’ in Ukraine they seem to be ‘let’s boil a frog’.
The caution is, to some extent, that the West feels it’s in a game, variously, of chicken with someone who doesn’t blink or of poker with someone whose face has been immobilised by a vat of botox. Putin, it’s said, is a man who plays a weak hand very well.
I take issue with that. Putin seems rather to be a man who plays a weak hand quite badly but gets away with it because the other players suspect he has a pistol under the table that he’s prepared to use if he loses. Fear of what Putin might do if he finds his back against the wall leads many to prefer a negotiated solution rather than decisive action.
For all the lessons of history that have been learned there are other lessons that seem to have been forgotten.
One of those is that empires tend to expand until they’re defeated. One of the forces that powers empires is myth. The Americans had ‘manifest destiny’. The British had the ‘white man’s burden’ and a sun that never set. The Romans ‘invincibility’. Defeat rewrites the narrative.
Putin’s own narrative seems to draw deep on Russian history and adds frills of his own. Russia is the perennial victim (it’s a recurring theme across Eastern Europe). It’s the last beacon of true Christianity (in a way that’s remarkably free of any actual Christianity). It’s the only bastion of Western civilisation against the degenerate forces of immigration, atheism, homosexuality and anything else Putin either despises or can use for his own political ends – and this despite the fact that he also likes to distinguish Russia from the West. There are certainly contradictions at play.
If many Russians subscribe to Putin’s world view that’s at least in part because they’re not presented with alternatives. We tend to forget how people can believe almost anything they want to. It’s not about facts. It’s not about being rational. It’s about belonging.
At a fundamental level we’re wired to survive in groups. Belief is often the price of membership of the group. Think Q Anon or Trumpism, think Scientology, cargo cults or extreme evangelical Christianity – we’ll adjust our thinking to that of our tribe because the alternative is exclusion and, in evolutionary terms, that equates to death.
Though many Germans resisted the Nazi world view, plenty who didn’t much like it went along with it because they just wanted to survive. It became a national psychosis. Only utter defeat shattered the illusion, though a significant minority never recanted, even in defeat.
Expect no different from modern Russia. A few have packed up and left. Most stay because they can’t or see no reason to go. Unless there’s a complete internal collapse following humiliating defeat, Putin, or those ready to pick up his torch, will keep the narrative going.
And this narrative includes antiquated ideas of spheres of influence, of the Русский ми (Russkiy Mir / Russian world / Pax Russica), greater Russia and so forth that impinges fundamentally on Russia’s neighbours, marking them as subservient to the interests of the reborn empire.
Which begs the question; when people talk of a negotiated settlement, what exactly are they suggesting is open to negotiation? If that includes Ukrainian territory not only are they asking the international community to legitimise the seizure of sovereign territory by force, with the terrible precedent that sets in an age of autocrats, but it also produces an outcome that feeds and emboldens the whole idea of greater Russia and those who would replicate it for their own parts of the world. Fascists seem only to respect strength. Perceived weakness only confirms their view that democracies are incapable and undeserving of wielding power.
The current situation is a predictable result of autocracy. The genius of democracy is, in one respect, that it ensures the peaceful transition of power. When there’s no mechanism for that transitions tend to be bloody. In Asia this is sometimes known as riding the tiger. You’re fine so long as you are on the tiger’s back. Your problems begin when you dismount. Suddenly you find yourself gazing at the very same sharp teeth that previously intimidated your enemies. There’s very little room for ex-autocrats.
Which means that, as an autocrat, you’re stuck there. And with time the responsibilities for all one’s bad decision starts to accumulate. Once the tiger has devoured a few scapegoats people start to realise that the common factor isn’t the goats, it’s the rider on the tiger’s back. The rider always needs to find fresh meat.
We’ve seen this time and again through history. Putin faces the same dilemma. How does he retire, even if he wants to? And do the factions he manages – the military, the securocrats, the oligarchs – want him to fall if that opens up the possibility of one of their rivals becoming ascendant?
In short, there is no obvious exit ramp for Putin or Russia. Nor is there any reason to believe that any negotiated solution would be final or in any way respected. Putin neither respects the West nor believes it honours its word. Why should he feel bound to honour his?
No one of my political stripe likes war. It’s obscene and abhorrent. Yet here we are. Appeasement has, once again, only delayed conflict. Further appeasement will only do the same.
Do we then continue to boil the frog? That depends greatly on whether Russia has been able to learn from its mistakes or whether the flaws in its military strategy are baked into a corrupt, top-down system.
If the latter then the West may, at the price of countless-thousand Ukrainian and Russian lives, continue to denude Russia’s military capability for a fairly modest proportion of its own treasure – one source put the large contribution from the US at around 5% of its annual defence budget and declared it cheap at the price, which, if it reduces the possibility of the US having to fight wars on two fronts (i.e. with China as well) it absolutely will have been.
If the former then the West will probably rue not having gone the shock and awe route. Yes, there’s the risk it might lead Russia to use battlefield nuclear weapons. But the unpredictability of what follows that must give Putin pause as much as his Western adversaries. If he goes nuclear the consequences would almost certainly be catastrophic for Russia. The only question is whether they would also be for the entire world.
There are no easy answers in the current situation but equally nothing that suggests that negotiation will give Western democracies anything they want. Next time, however, it might serve us well to ensure that collapsed societies regenerate and thrive as successful members of a democratic, rule-based, international community. It’s cheaper, in the long run, than looting them.