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Este blog trata basicamente de ideias, se possível inteligentes, para pessoas inteligentes. Ele também se ocupa de ideias aplicadas à política, em especial à política econômica. Ele constitui uma tentativa de manter um pensamento crítico e independente sobre livros, sobre questões culturais em geral, focando numa discussão bem informada sobre temas de relações internacionais e de política externa do Brasil. Para meus livros e ensaios ver o website: www.pralmeida.org. Para a maior parte de meus textos, ver minha página na plataforma Academia.edu, link: https://itamaraty.academia.edu/PauloRobertodeAlmeida.

Mostrando postagens com marcador Andreas Umland. Mostrar todas as postagens
Mostrando postagens com marcador Andreas Umland. Mostrar todas as postagens

sábado, 17 de agosto de 2024

How Ukraine’s Fight Solves Global Problems - Andreas Umland (The National Interest)

How Ukraine’s Fight Solves Global Problems

Kyiv’s struggle, if successful, could reignite worldwide democratization and help speed along political transitions in other nations.


The National InterestAugust 12, 2024 


While the Russian-Ukrainian War is only one symptom of broader destructive international trends, its outcome will co-determine the direction of the world’s development. 

Popular yet imprecise expressions like the “Ukraine Crisis” or the “Ukraine War” have been misleading many to believe that the Russian-Ukrainian War is a solely Eastern European issue. According to this misperception, a Ukrainian leadership that was more submissive to Russia could have avoided the unfortunate war. Supposedly, Kyiv can still stem the risks spilling over from the “war in Ukraine” to other realms and regions if it accommodates Russian aggression.

If seen from a historical and comparative perspective, the Russian-Ukrainian War looks different. It is only one of several permutations of Moscow’s post-Soviet imperialism and merely one facet of larger regressive developments since the end of the twentieth century. Russia’s assault on Ukraine is a replay or preview of pathologies familiar to Eastern Europe and other parts of the world. The alleged “Ukrainian Crisis” is neither a singular nor a local issue. It is less the trigger than a manifestation of larger destructive trends.

At the same time, the Russian-Ukrainian War is a grand battle about the future of Europe and the principle of inviolability of borders. Moreover, the war is about Ukraine’s right to exist as a regular UN member state. The conflict has genuinely global significance.

Yet, the war’s course and outcome can either accelerate, contain, or reverse broader political, social, and legal decay across the globe. Moscow’s partial victory in Ukraine would permanently unsettle international law, order, and organization and may spark armed conflicts and arms races elsewhere. A successful Ukrainian defense against Russia’s military expansion, in contrast, will generate far-reaching beneficial effects on worldwide security, democracy, and prosperity in three ways.

A Ukrainian victory would, first, lead to a stabilization of the rules-based UN order that emerged after 1945 and consolidated with the self-destruction of the Soviet Bloc and Union after 1989. It would, second, trigger a revival of international democratization, which has halted since the early twenty-first century and needs a boost to start anew. Third, the ongoing Ukrainian national defense and state-building contribute to global innovation and revitalization in various fields, from dual-use technology to public administration, fields in which Ukraine has become a forerunner.

Stabilizing International Order

The Russo-Ukrainian War is only one of several attempts by powerful states to expand their territories since the end of the Cold War. Several revisionist governments have tried or are planning to install their uninvited presence in neighboring countries. The resulting military operations have been or will be offensive, repressive, and unprovoked rather than defensive, humanitarian, and preventive. Several revisionist autocracies have engaged in, or are tempted to try, replacing international law with the principle of “might is right.”

An early post-Cold War example is Iraq’s 1990 annexation of Kuwait, which was instantaneously reversed by an international coalition in 1991. Another example is Serbia’s revanchist assaults on other former Yugoslav republics once ruled from Belgrade. During this period, Russia began creating so-called “republics” in Moldova (i.e., Transnistria) and Georgia (i.e., Abkhazia and “South Ossetia”). At the same time, Moscow ruthlessly suppressed the emergence of an independent Chechen republic on its own territory.

Only recently has the Kremlin turned its attention to Ukraine. In 2014, Moscow created the “people’s republics” of Donetsk and Luhansk and illegally annexed Crimea to the Russian Federation. Eight years later, Russia also illegally incorporated Ukraine’s Donetsk, Luhansk, Zaporizhzhia, and Kherson regions into its official territory.

The international community’s reaction to Russia’s border revisions has remained half-hearted, unlike its responses to the Iraqi and Serbian attempts of the 1990s. The West’s timidity only provoked further Russian adventurism. Moscow now demands Kyiv’s voluntary cessation of all parts of the four Ukrainian mainland regions that Russia annexed in 2022. This includes, oddly, even some parts of Ukraine’s territory that Russian troops never managed to capture. The Kremlin’s final aim is still the eradication of Ukraine as a sovereign state.

At the same time, Beijing is bending established rules of conduct in the South and East China Seas and stepping up its preparations to incorporate the Republic of China in Taiwan into the People’s Republic of China by force. Venezuela has announced territorial claims on neighboring Guyana. Other revisionist politicians across the globe may be harboring similar plans.

Moscow’s official incorporation of Ukrainian lands is unique since Russia is a permanent member of the UN Security Council, which was created to prevent such conquests. Russia’s behavior is also peculiar in view of its status as an official nuclear-weapon state and depositary government under the 1968 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (NPT). Nevertheless, Moscow is trying to reduce or even destroy an official UN member and non-nuclear weapon state, thereby undermining the entire logic of the non-proliferation regime and its special prerogatives for the five permanent UN Security Council members whom the NPT allows to have nuclear weapons.

At the same time, the Russian assault on Ukraine is not entirely exceptional, neither geographically nor temporally. It is only one of several recent symptoms of more generic Russian neo-imperialism. It is also just one aspect of larger expansionist and revanchist tendencies across the globe.

A Ukrainian victory against Russia would not be a merely local incident but an event of far broader significance, notwithstanding. It can become an important factor in preventing or reversing international border revisionism and territorial irredentism. Conversely, Ukraine’s defeat or an unjust Russo-Ukrainian peace would strengthen colonialist adventurism across the globe. Ukraine’s fight for independence is, for world affairs, both a manifestation of broader problems and an instrument of their solution.   

A Revival of International Democratization

Russia’s assault on Ukraine challenges principles such as peaceful conflict resolution, national sovereignty, and the inviolability of borders. It also represents another negative global political trend of the early twenty-first century, namely the decline of democracy and the resurgence of autocracy. This regressive trend manifests itself through the confrontation between Russia and Ukraine.

A major internal determinant of the Russian assault on Ukraine is that Putin’s various wars have, since 1999, been sources of his undemocratic rule’s popularity, integrity, and legitimacy. Sometimes overlooked in analyses of Russian public support for authoritarianism, the occupation, subjugation, and repression of peoples like the Chechens, Georgians, and Ukrainians finds broad support among ordinary Russians. Their backing of victorious military interventions—especially on the territory of the former Tsarist and Soviet empires—is a major political resource and social basis of Putin’s increasingly autocratic regime.

Regressive tendencies, to be sure, were already observable in Yeltsin’s semi-democratic Russia of the 1990s—for instance, in Moldova and Chechnya. Yet, under Putin as prime minister (1999–2000, 2008–12) and president (2000–2008, 2012– ), the viciousness of Russian revanchist military operations in and outside Russia has rapidly grown. This radicalization is a function not only of escalating Russian irredentism per se but also an effect of fundamental changes in Russia’s political regime. Moscow’s increasing foreign aggressiveness parallels the growth of domestic repression after Putin’s take-over of Russia’s government in August 1999.

The two major early spikes of Kremlin aggressiveness towards the West and Ukraine followed, not by accident, Ukrainian events in 2004 and 2014. They had much to do with the victories of those years’ liberal-democratic Orange Revolution and Euromaidan Revolution. Ukraine’s domestic development questions Russia’s imperial pretensions, as it leads the largest former colony out of Moscow’s orbit. The democratizing Ukrainian polity is also a conceptual countermodel to authoritarianism in the post-communist world. Its very existence challenges the legitimacy of the post-Soviet autocracies in Russia, Belarus, Azerbaijan, and Central Asia.  

Ukraine’s fight for independence is thus not only a defense of international law and order but also a battle for the cause of worldwide democracy. The contest between pro- and anti-democratic forces is global and has been sharpening already before, in parallel to, and independently from, the Russo-Ukrainian War. At the same time, the confrontation between Russian autocracy and Ukrainian democracy is a particularly epic one.

If Ukraine is victorious, the international alliance of democracies will win, and the axis of autocracies around Russia will lose. In this scenario, not only will other democracies become more secure, self-confident, and energized, but also it is likely that more democracies will appear—above all, in the post-communist world from Eastern Europe to Central Asia. Diffusion, spillover, or domino effects could also trigger new or re-democratizations elsewhere.

Conversely, a Russian victory will embolden autocratic regimes and anti-democratic groups throughout the world. In such a scenario, democratic rule and open societies would become stigmatized as feeble, ineffective, or even doomed. The recent worldwide decline of democracy will be less likely to reverse and may continue further or accelerate. While the “Ukraine Crisis” is not the cause of democracy’s current problems, its successful resolution would revitalize worldwide democratization.

Transferable Innovations

A third, so far, underappreciated aspect of Kyiv’s contribution to global progress is the growing number of new and partly revolutionary Ukrainian cognitive, institutional, and technological advances that can be applied elsewhere. Already before the escalation of the Russo-Ukrainian War in 2022, Kyiv initiated some domestic reforms that could also be relevant for the modernization of other transition countries. After the victory of the Euromaidan uprising or Revolution of Dignity in February 2014, Ukraine started to restructure its state-society relations fundamentally.

This included the creation of several new anti-corruption institutions, namely a specialized court and procuracy, as well as a corruption prevention agency and investigation bureau. The novelty of these institutions is that they are all exclusively devoted to the preclusion, disclosure, and prosecution of bribery. In April 2014, Ukraine started a far-reaching decentralization of its public administration system that led to the country’s thorough municipalization. The reform transferred significant powers, rights, finances, and responsibilities from the regional and national levels to local self-governmental organs of amalgamated communities that have now become major loci of power in Ukraine.

The Euromaidan Revolution also led to a restructuring of relations between governmental and non-governmental organizations. Early independent Ukraine, like other post-Soviet countries, suffered from alienation between civil servants and civic activists. After the Revolution of Dignity, this gap began to close. For instance, Kyiv’s famous “Reanimation Package of Reforms” is a coalition of independent think tanks, research institutes, and non-governmental organizations that has been preparing critical new reform legislation for the Verkhovna Rada (Supreme Council), Ukraine’s unicameral national parliament.

Also, in 2014, Ukraine, Moldova, and Georgia signed EU Association Agreements of a new and, so far, unique type. The three bilateral mammoth pacts go far beyond older foreign cooperation treaties of the Union and include so-called Deep and Comprehensive Free Trade Areas between the EU and the three countries. Since 2014, the Association Agreements have been gradually integrating the Ukrainian, Moldovan, and Georgian economies into the European economy.

These and other regulatory innovations have wider normative meaning and larger political potential. They provide reform templates, institutional models, and historical lessons for other current and future countries undergoing democratic transitions. Ukraine’s experiences can be useful for various nations shifting from a traditional to a liberal order, from patronal to plural politics, from a closed to an open society, from oligarchy to polyarchy, from centralized to decentralized rule, and from mere cooperation to deeper association with the EU.

While Ukraine’s post-revolutionary developments are, above all, relevant for transition countries, its war-related experiences and innovations are also of interest to other states—not least the members and allies of NATO. Such diffusion concerns both Ukrainian accumulated knowledge of hybrid threats and how to meet them, as well as Ukraine’s rapid technological and tactical modernization of its military and security forces fighting Russian forces on the battlefield and in the rear. Since 2014, Ukraine has become—far more so than any other country on earth—a target of Moscow’s multivariate attacks with irregular and regular forces in the media and cyber spaces, within domestic and international politics, as well as on its infrastructure, economy, and cultural, religious, educational, and academic institutions.

Since February 24, 2022, Ukraine has engaged in a dramatic fight for survival against a nominally far superior aggressor country. Ukraine’s government, army, and society had to adapt quickly, flexibly, and thoroughly to this existential challenge. This included the swift introduction of new types and applications of weaponry, such as a variety of unmanned flying, swimming, and driving vehicles, as well as their operation with the help of artificial intelligence. In a wide variety of military and dual-use technology, Ukraine had to innovate rapidly and effectively so as to withstand the lethal Russian assault.

In numerous further fields such as electricity generation and preservation, electronic communication, war-time transportation, information verification, emergency medicine, large-scale demining, post-traumatic psychotherapy, and veteran reintegration, to name but a few areas, the Ukrainian government and society have, and will have to react speedily and resolutely. While Ukraine often relies on foreign experience, equipment, and training, it is constantly developing its own novel kit, approaches, and mechanisms that could potentially be useful elsewhere. This new Ukrainian knowledge and experience will come in especially handy for countries that may be confronted with similar challenges in the near or distant future.

It All Depends on Kyiv

The escalation of the so-called “Ukraine Crisis” in 2022 has been only one expression of earlier and independently accumulating international tension. At the same time, the Russian-Ukrainian War is no trivial manifestation of these larger trends and no peripheral topic in world affairs. A Russian victory over Ukraine would have grave implications for the post-Soviet region and beyond. Conversely, a Ukrainian success in its defense against Russia’s genocidal assault and the achievement of a just peace will have stabilizing and innovating effects far beyond Eastern Europe.

Apart from being a revanchist war of a former imperial center against its one-time colony, Russia’s assault on Ukrainian democracy is driven by Russian domestic politics. It is a result of Russia’s re-autocratization since 1999, which, in turn, follows more significant regressive trends in the state of global democracy. Ukraine has been less of a trigger than a major victim of recent destructive international tendencies.

At the same time, Ukraine’s fight can make crucial contributions to counteracting the global spread of revanchism. It can reignite worldwide democratization and help speed along political transitions in other nations. A Ukrainian victory and recovery may save not only Ukraine but also its neighbors from Russian imperialism. Ukraine’s fight also contributes to solving numerous larger problems of the world today.

 Dr. Andreas Umland is an Analyst with the Stockholm Centre for Eastern European Studies at the Swedish Institute of International Affairs (UI). Follow him on LinkedIn and X @UmlandAndreas.


sexta-feira, 19 de julho de 2024

How the West Misunderstood Moscow in Ukraine - By Julia Kazdobina, Jakob Hedenskog, and Andreas Umland (Foreign Policy)

How the West Misunderstood Moscow in Ukraine

Ten years ago, Russia’s first invasion failed to wake up a bamboozled West. The reasons are still relevant today.

Ten years ago today, news of the crash of Malaysian Airlines flight MH-17 in eastern Ukraine shocked the world. All 298 passengers on board the Boeing 777, including 80 children, perished. This tragic event was just one of the many shocks coming out of Ukraine that year, as the largest European war after 1945 unfolded in southern and eastern Ukraine.

The war began in February 2014 with the occupation of Crimea by regular Russian troops, followed by Moscow’s illegal annexation of the peninsula in March. Russian irregular troops then entered Donbas in April 2014—ostensibly to “protect” Russian-speaking Ukrainians. Later on, more Russian armed groups, including Wagner mercenaries and small regular army units, poured into Ukraine. They brought with them heavy equipment, including anti-aircraft missile launchers used to shoot down MH-17, a commercial flight on its way from Amsterdam to Kuala Lumpur, as well as Ukrainian fighter planes and transport aircraft bringing troops and supplies. After Ukrainian defenders began to push back the Russians—at that time still mostly irregulars—large numbers of regular Russian troops started invading eastern Ukraine in mid-August.

Over the course of six months in 2014, there was a manifest, expanding Russian military aggression in the heart of Europe. Yet the West reacted barely at all—with meek diplomatic statements and a few minor sanctions. Besides their limited scope, the sanctions were initially focused narrowly on the annexation of Crimea. The first larger sectoral sanctions followed the shooting of MH-17, which killed dozens of EU citizens. Never were the sanctions a coherent response to the most significant attack on a European country since 1945. During the years that followed, even as fighting continued, little additional action was taken. The West continued business as usual with Russia or even upgraded relations, like Germany’s push to build the Nord Stream 2 gas pipeline.

How could it be that it took the West until Feb. 24, 2022—when Moscow expanded the war it launched in 2014 to a full-scale invasion—to wake up to the reality that Russia is a revisionist state seeking to impose, by any means necessary, its own version of European security order?

Between 2014 and 2022, Western politicians, commentators, and journalists, with few exceptions, continued to believe that Russia’s aims were limited—and that the war simmering in eastern Ukraine was a Ukrainian civil conflict taking place in isolation from Russia’s much larger revisionist aims. Not only did Western efforts to resolve the conflict fail. Since the West continued with business as usual, it also inspired Moscow to press on and paved the way for the 2022 invasion.

Why did the West fail to properly diagnose Russia’s war in Ukraine for eight long years? What lessons from this failure are important today?

One reason was the lack of Western expertise on Ukraine and Russia’s tactics there. Moscow’s interference in Ukrainian affairs since the country’s independence in 1991 had largely escaped Western journalists, political analysts, and international relations scholars. When some Western journalists arrived to cover the events, the situation on the ground was chaotic and its interpretation a challenge for newly minted Ukraine experts. Russian narratives of intra-Ukrainian conflict and regional escalation were simple, understandable, and made sense to many observers—not the least those who had previously worked in Moscow. Many media also relied on their Moscow correspondents, with their skewed, Russia-centric lens, to report on events in Ukraine.

There was also a glaring lack of awareness of Russian hybrid methods. Ten years ago, few Western observers understood the Russian way of war, for which Ukraine was a testing ground. Attempts by Ukrainians, other East Europeans, and Western area experts to explain Russia’s strategy were usually met with skepticism. To outside observers, these descriptions of the Kremlin’s methods, where the intelligence services play a central role, often sounded like speculative assessments or outright conspiracy theories.

The parachute reporters arriving in eastern Ukraine in 2014 witnessed pro-Russian protests and listened to pro-Russian Ukrainian citizens. Some foreign observers could not even tell the difference between Ukrainian residents of Donbas and people from neighboring Russian oblasts who crossed as adventurers or were bussed into Ukraine to participate in the supposedly indigenous separatist movement.

Pro-Ukrainian journalists and other anti-separatist local voices in Donbas, in contrast, faced threats, physical violence, and worse. These Ukrainians feared the consequences of expressing themselves publicly and often remained invisible to visiting reporters. A number of eastern Ukrainians resisting the Russian takeover were threatened, attacked, abducted, severely injured, or secretly killed by Russian irregulars or their local collaborators. Most of these collaborators were encouraged, financed, delegated, or otherwise coordinated by Moscow. This suppression of local opposition laid the groundwork for Russia’s eventual annexation of the Donetsk and Luhansk oblasts.

Western media only started to have a substantial presence in Ukraine in December 2021, on the eve of the full-scale invasion. Before that, much of the reporting was done by correspondents based in Moscow, who usually spoke only Russian and were heavily exposed to Russian narratives.

The Washington Post did not open a Kyiv bureau until May 2022—and sent its former Moscow correspondent to report on Ukraine. Similarly, the New York Times only opened an office in Ukraine in July 2022, headed by the paper’s veteran Moscow correspondent, Andrew Kramer, whose coverage of the war since 2014 had outraged Ukrainians. The newspaper’s reference to Russia’s hybrid attack as a “civil war” (later corrected) and Kramer referring to Russian-occupied territories as “separatist zones” echoed Kremlin language, reminding some Ukrainians of the Times’ sordid history of misreporting genocides and Soviet atrocities. Another widespread adoption of Kremlin talking points on Ukraine was the Western media’s myopic fixation on right-wing extremism that was supposedly out of control in Ukraine—a claim that has been solidly debunked but that would be used by Russian President Vladimir Putin to justify his full-scale attack in 2022.

Many journalists eventually learned to be more critical of Russian narratives. But there remains what behavioral psychologists call an anchoring bias: When people learn about something for the first time, they remember their initial interpretations. These take concerted effort to unlearn and can still be exploited by Russian propaganda.

There were multiple signs of direct Russian involvement in the events in the Donbas in 2014. Most Ukrainians understood intuitively, from the early days of the alleged rebellion, that the unrest and unfolding war were initiated, directed, and funded by Russia. In contrast, it took Western observers time to establish, specify, and verify the facts—and to distinguish them from the many lies.

A circumspect approach to information and conflicting claims from war zones is, in principle, good practice to avoid misinformation. In 2014, however, this overabundance of caution often turned into laziness—a cover not to do the hard work of digging deeper to establish the facts on the ground. With many Western governments and media commentators invested in the idea of a “thaw” with Moscow at the time, there was also an incentive not to look too closely at Russia’s involvement.

The inability, for many years, to define 2014 as a first Russian invasion also underlines the inability of Western observers, including the media, to cope with the sophisticated tactics of hybrid, grey-zone war. As long as the Russian irregulars and mercenaries did not wear official Russian army insignia—and as long as the Kremlin issued a stream of denials that the Russians in eastern Ukraine were anything more than “tourists”—media editors and fact checkers could take refuge behind a false equivalence of opposing claims and perpetuate the notion that the war was an intra-Ukrainian conflict. The media’s difficulties in properly framing a war if it’s waged beneath the threshold of an openly declared one continues to be an issue today.

Western willful ignorance was particularly evident concerning the so-called Donetsk People’s Republic and Lugansk People’s Republic. From their creation in 2014 to their end in September 2022, these were Russian proxy regimes. Yet many in the West—including governments, diplomats, academics, and journalists—treated them as statelets set up by supposed eastern Ukrainian “insurgents.” Only in January 2023 did the European Court on Human Rights put an official end to this pretense, establishing that Russia had effective control over these fake republics since the day they were created.

Regardless of motivation, the West’s slow public reaction to the unfolding events in 2014 left space for Moscow to fill with disinformation, half-truths, and propaganda narratives. Many of them, even after having long been debunked, still circulate today.

The West’s widespread cognition problem between 2014 and 2022 was also a result of a fundamental gap between Western strategic culture and Moscow’s sophisticated hybrid and grey-zone tactics. Initially, foreign observers were often reluctant to acknowledge that the war in the Donbas was part of the same operation as Russia’s more straightforward occupation of Crimea. There remained a naïve belief that the Donbas war was a separate case—an unfortunate conflict between equally legitimate interests to be resolved through joint negotiation, deliberation, and mediation.

Pursuing tactics known as “reflexive control” or “escalation control” that were first developed by the Soviet Union, the Kremlin used aggression via proxies to impose its will on Ukraine and its Western partners. From 2014 to 2022, aggressive behavior alternated with feigned concessions and apparent de-escalation to deceive Western politicians and negotiators into thinking that a peaceful resolution remained possible even as Moscow tightened its grip and prepared for an eventual full-scale conquest.

Throughout the talks that eventually produced the Minsk accords, Moscow used purposeful escalation by its proxy and regular forces to exert maximum pressure on Western and Ukrainian negotiators—but stayed short of an open and massive Russian military attack that could trigger a Western response. Moscow’s zigzag between escalation, apparently conciliatory moves, and stalling tactics managed to deceive many Western observers, who continued to believe that the West was in control of escalation, mistaking Russia staying below the threshold of full-scale war for a sign of moderation. This mistake proved deadly for Ukrainians, allowing the conflict to fester and grew.

On Feb. 24, 2022, the West finally woke up to reality, imposed substantial sanctions on Russia, rushed defensive weapons to Ukraine, and later followed up by delivering heavy weapons. Had there not been so many Western misconceptions about Russia’s first invasion in 2014, those weapons might already have been delivered then. And today’s much larger, much more brutal war might have been avoided.

Julia Kazdobina is a senior fellow in the security studies program at Ukrainian Prism.

Jakob Hedenskog is an analyst at the Swedish Institute of International Affairs’ Stockholm Centre for Eastern European Studies.

Andreas Umland is an analyst at the Swedish Institute of International Affairs’ Stockholm Centre for Eastern European Studies. Twitter: @UmlandAndreas