Can America and NATO Avoid a Broader War Over Ukraine?
By supplying Ukraine with weapons, ammunition, and intelligence the United States and NATO are waging a proxy war against Russia.
Make no mistake. By supplying Ukraine with weapons, ammunition, and intelligence the United States and NATO are waging a proxy war against Russia. And in his speech to Congress, Ukrainian president Volodymyr Zelensky pulled on America’s heartstrings in a plea for Washington to “do more.” That is, to deepen U.S. involvement. But the United States and NATO already are pushing their support for Ukraine into a danger zone where the risk of a direct U.S./NATO confrontation with Russia is rising. At the same time, negotiations between Kyiv and Moscow suggest a diplomatic resolution of the war is within reach. It is to this effort to end the war that Washington’s energies should be focused.
Why should there be concern that the U.S. could become militarily involved in the Ukraine conflict? After all, senior U.S. (and NATO) officials have stated on multiple occasions that the U.S. will neither send combat forces into, or impose a no-fly zone over, Ukraine. As Biden stated on March 11, “We will not fight a war against Russia in Ukraine. Direct confrontation between NATO and Russia is World War Three, something we must strive to prevent.” That is the correct policy, and there is no reason to doubt Biden’s sincerity on this point. However, other presidents have made similar commitments. And broken them.
In 1916, Woodrow Wilson ran for re-election on the platform that “He Kept Us Out of War.” In 1917, Wilson took the United States into World War I. In an October 30, 1940, speech in Boston, Franklin D. Roosevelt said, “Your boys are not going to be sent into any foreign wars.” Just over a year later, the U.S. was at war with both Germany and Japan. In 1964, Lyndon B. Johnson stated that “We are not about to send American boys nine or 10,000 miles away from their homes to do what Asian boys ought to be doing for themselves.” By the middle of 1965, American troops were fighting a war in South Vietnam that ultimately would claim 58,000 American lives.
For better or worse, in international politics, the days of “cabinet diplomacy” have long since passed. In the United States, Congressional and public opinion can either push administrations—or be manipulated by them—to adopt unwise policies. Moreover, the openness of the American political system allows diasporas living in the U.S. to influence Washington’s foreign policy decisions. This can be done—perfectly legally—by utilizing public relations and lobbying firms and forming political action committees to make campaign contributions. The best-known example is, of course, AIPAC (the American Israel Political Action Committee), which has had an outsized—and largely baleful—impact on American policy in the Middle East. There is an active, well-funded, and vocal Ukrainian diaspora lobbying for stronger American support for Kyiv. Similarly, Poland and the Baltic States, benefit from the activities of diasporas that lobby for the United States—through NATO—to defend them from Russia.
In the United States (and Europe) Ukraine clearly is winning the war in terms of perception management. Since the war’s outbreak, Ukraine’s ex-actor president Volodymyr Zelensky has displayed an unerring feel for influencing American opinion. He successfully has cast Ukraine as a defender of democracy in what President Joe Biden has called (even before the war) a global struggle between democracy and autocracy. It is now routine to see American journalists describe Ukraine as a democracy. This is remarkable. Freedom House, recognized as the authority, classifies Ukraine’s domestic political system as only “partly free.” Similarly, Transparency.org, which ranks 180 countries from least to most corrupt pegs Ukraine as 122, which makes it one of the world’s more corrupt governments. Both Freedom House and Transparency note that corruption is rampant in Ukraine. Whatever Ukraine is it is far from a model of democracy. Yet Zelensky, and Kyiv’s supporters in the United States, have successfully whitewashed Ukraine’s governance flaws and transformed it into the embodiment of democratic virtue.
Zelensky’s acting skills were on display fully in his speech to Congress. He played to Americans’ instinctive sympathy for the underdog. He challenged the United States to “do more” for Ukraine; specifically asking—again—for a no-fly zone, and arming Ukraine with jet fighters and more potent air defense systems. He suggested—not too subtlety—that Biden was not exercising enough leadership in the crisis. He played to America’s emotions by showing harrowing scenes of the death and destruction Ukraine has suffered during the war. He likened Ukraine’s plight to that of the United States after 9/11 and Pearl Harbor. Even before Zelensky’s speech, talk of Russian “atrocities” and “war crimes” has spread from Kyiv to the Beltway, and is echoed in the American media—which has abandoned any semblance of objectivity and become a cheerleader for Ukraine.
As Ukraine’s leader, Zelensky has a vested interest in moving the geopolitical needle closer to open U.S. and NATO military intervention. Judging from first reactions, his speech was a success. The Washington Post’s Jennifer Rubin praised Zelensky’s “appeal for the United States to end its reluctance to provide international leadership,” and for “shaking Western democracies’ conception of their nations’ obligations to other democracies.” (Even though Ukraine is not a democracy.) Post columnist David Ignatius chimed in by calling for Russia’s “utter defeat,” which, he said, like the defeat of Germany and Japan in World War II, could lead to the “democratic reconstruction of Russia.” Ignatius also advocated ramping up military assistance for Ukraine: “Transfer more antitank and antiaircraft missiles through the four NATO countries that border Ukraine. Provide bigger, more advanced antiaircraft missiles, not just shoulder-fired Stingers. Send more of the Turkish-made drones that have been so deadly. Deliver anti-ship missiles to blunt Russian dominance of the Black Sea coast. Send more fuel and ammunition.”
Even before Zelensky spoke, the mood in America had turned febrile with members of Congress and pundits advancing all sorts of hare-brained schemes—from regime change in Moscow to assassinating Putin—that turned up the pressure on Biden to provide more robust assistance to Ukraine. These pressures—from Congress, the media, and (potentially) the public—are building to a point where the Biden administration’s resolve to stay out of the conflict melts away. Zelensky’s speech has pushed the U.S. closer to “slithering into war.” After the speech, Biden called Russian President Vladimir Putin a “war criminal,” and announced a new round of military assistance for Ukraine—that the Financial Times called “a significant escalation by Washington”—valued at $1 billion, and including advanced weapons systems like sophisticated armed drones. Through NATO, Washington also is arranging for Slovakia to provide Kyiv with the advanced S-300 anti-aircraft missile system.
Since the war began, Zelensky has delivered an Oscar-winning performance as Ukraine’s war leader. However, Ukraine’s interests and America’s are not congruent. As Wall Street Journal columnist Peggy Noonan observes “[Zelensky’s] great and primary mission is to save his country ... To put it crudely, it isn’t bad for his purposes if the war escalates, as long as escalation means more allies giving Ukraine what it needs. He won’t mind broadening the conflict if it protects Ukraine. It is his allies who have to worry about broadening the conflict.” It is time for Washington to step back and—before it is too late—defuse the growing crisis over Ukraine. This is possibly the most serious international crisis since October 1962 when the Soviet Union and the United States faced off in the Cuban missile crisis. It is fair to ask whether those calling for ramped-up U.S. actions in support of Ukraine realize how easily the U.S. and Russia—both armed to the teeth with nuclear weapons—could find themselves at war. There is a possible historical parallel worth pondering. World War I was sparked by the June 28, 1914, assassination of Austrian archduke Franz Ferdinand. Yet, throughout what has become known as the July Crisis, most Europeans were unaware of the conflagration about to engulf them. Indeed, it was only in the last week before war broke out (on August 1) that policymakers grasped the perils that they faced. There already are wake-up calls that should alert U.S. (and European) policymakers to the dangers in this crisis and pull them back before they, like the Europeans in 1914, sleep-walk into a wider war.
Since the war began, the U.S. and NATO have been funneling war supplies—and Western volunteer fighters—into Ukraine through NATO members that border Ukraine—especially Poland and Romania Until now the prevailing assumption (or hope) in Washington and Europe has been that the fighting will remain confined to Ukrainian territory, and that a direct conflict with Russia will be avoided. However, the Kremlin’s chief spokesman has indicated that NATO supply convoys headed to Ukraine are “legitimate targets.” Recent Russian missile strikes at military bases and airfields in western Ukraine—including an attack on a military facility about ten miles from the Polish border—have increased the chances of an armed clash between Russia and the American-led NATO alliance. In Washington (and Europe), those calling for ramped-up military support for Kyiv apparently assume the Kremlin will remain passive while its troops are killed with weapons and ammunition provided by the United States and NATO. This is a big—and dangerous—gamble. The wiser policy for the United States is to de-escalate the crisis and find a diplomatic off-ramp.
Every war or crisis has both proximate causes, and antecedent (or background) causes. The proximate cause of this war is Russian president Vladimir Putin’s decision to invade Ukraine. There are two certain background causes of the Ukraine war. First, is what American diplomat George F. Kennan (in his famous 1946 “Long Telegram”) called “the instinctive and traditional Russian sense of insecurity.” Second is NATO expansion, which touched the nerve of Russian insecurity. More controversially, there may be a third background cause: Washington’s policy decisions.
That NATO expansion is a root cause of the Ukraine war is unsurprising. Whether, during negotiations on German reunification, Moscow received a formal commitment that NATO would not expand eastward is contested. However, Russian leaders believe they were given assurances that NATO on this point.
Regardless, this clearly was a neuralgic issue for the Kremlin. As Soviet leader Mikhail Gorbachev—who aimed at ending the Cold War and instituting liberalizing reforms—said in 1990: “Regardless of what is being said about NATO now, for us it is a symbol of the past, a dangerous and confrontational past. And we will never agree to assign it a leading role in building a new Europe.” Similarly, Russian president Boris Yeltsin—in whom the U.S. placed great hope as a democratic reformer—said: “For me to agree to the borders of NATO expanding towards those of Russia – that would constitute a betrayal on my part of the Russian people.”
In a February 1997 New York Times article, Kennan, America’s leading Sovietologist and Russia expert—and the architect of the Cold War “containment” strategy—warned “that expanding NATO would be the most fateful error of American policy in the entire post-cold-war era.” Russia, he said, would be “little impressed with American assurances that it reflects no hostile intentions.” Kennan was prescient.
The Clinton administration officials who dreamed up NATO expansion said it was a benign policy of enlarging the zone of democracy (the “democratic zone of peace”) by helping to consolidate the fledgling free-market democracies of Poland, Hungary, and the Czech Republic. As President Clinton said:
We want all of Europe to have what America helped build in Western Europe—a community that upholds common standards of human rights, where people have the confidence and security to invest in the future, where nations cooperate to make war unthinkable. That is why I have pushed hard for NATO’s enlargement and why we must keep NATO’s doors open to new democratic members, so that other nations will have an incentive to deepen their democracies.
Washington believed the Cold War’s end presented the United States with the opportunity to build a post-Cold War Europe based on America’s liberal political and economic ideals. As Undersecretary of Defense Walter Slocombe put it: ‘We have the possibility to build a system in Europe—and indeed the entire world—organized on the model of what we used to call the Free World—that is, liberal market democracies living in peace with their neighbors.”
The Clinton administration argued that NATO expansion was not a threat to Russia. As Slobombe said,
NATO is a defensive alliance created to ensure more security and stability for Europe as a whole, Russia included, whatever its formal or informal relations with the alliance. NATO is not an alliance against Russia. NATO’s basic principles—collective defense, democracy, consensus and cooperative security—are no threat to the Russia of today or, we trust and hope, of the Russia of tomorrow.
As Clinton put it, “NATO will promote greater stability in Europe and Russia will be among the beneficiaries. Indeed, Russia has the best chance in history to help build that peaceful and undivided Europe, and ... to define themselves in terms of the future, not the past; to forge a new relationship with NATO as enlargement moves forward.”
Why the Clinton administration believed all of this is an open question. Why it—even for a moment—thought that Moscow would believe it betrayed an astounding naivete; a naivete born of ignorance of the enduring realities both of great power politics and Russian history. The Clinton administration’s disclaimers notwithstanding, NATO expansion obviously was a security threat to Russia: it transformed an anti-Soviet Cold War military alliance into a post-Cold War anti-Russia alliance. An anti-Russian alliance that now includes territories that were part of the Soviet Union itself (and, before that, of the Tsarist empire). Moreover, NATO expansion also was seen by the Kremlin as a blow to Russia’s status and prestige as a great power—two things that great powers value as much, and sometimes more, than security.
The George W. Bush administration—arguably the most strategically inept in American history (the Iraq War, nation-building in Afghanistan)—also contributed to the Ukraine war. Apparently unaware of (or simply unconcerned about) the implications of Ukraine’s NATO membership for Russia, at the 2008 NATO summit in Bucharest, the administration pushed for Ukraine’s admission to the alliance. France and Germany were aghast and vetoed that. However, the summit enabled the U.S. to save face by issuing a communique that stated that Ukraine would become a member at some (indefinite) point in the future.
The American architects of NATO expansion were intoxicated by the “unipolar moment,” and victims of the liberal internationalist assumptions that undergirded their approach to foreign policy. Moreover, unlike Kennan, they had little sense of Russian history. Phrases like the “post-Soviet space” roll easily off U.S. policymakers’ tongues. But they never seem to acknowledge that the post-Soviet space was the pre-Soviet space: for centuries the territory of the Tsarist Empire, and places in which Moscow had security interests, and economic and cultural ties. Moreover, Russia’s “instinctive and traditional sense of insecurity”—and distrust of other great powers (including the United States)—is well-founded historically. In the Russo-Japanese war (1904/05), the U.S. tilted toward Tokyo; American troops fought on Russian soil against the Bolsheviks in the Russian Civil War; Russia fought costly wars with Germany in both World Wars (and, in World War II, for three years single-handedly bore the brunt of fighting Nazi Germany while waiting for the Anglo-Americans to open a serious second front in Western Europe).
Washington casts the Ukraine war as solely the result of the actions of an aggressive “autocrat.” In all statements and articles about the war, it’s always “he” (Putin), never Russia (or Moscow, or the Kremlin). As important as “he” is, however, it is also “they.” On NATO expansion, as already noted above, “he” is following the same line as his predecessors, Gorbachev and Yeltsin. When the Cold War ended, the Soviet Union was in the throes of geopolitical and economic collapse. Desirous of financial support from the West, Gorbachev could not press harder for either a firmer understanding about NATO expansion, or for a new post-Cold War European security architecture that would replace NATO and the Warsaw Pact. During the nearly yearlong build-up to the Ukraine war, the Kremlin made it clear it was seeking a revision of the post-Cold War settlement. Putin made it clear that if the United States refused to engage in serious discussion of this topic, Russia would resort to a “military-technical” solution; that is, war. While offering to negotiate on arms control issues, Washington refused to negotiate on the core issue of greatest importance to Russia.
The Kremlin’s war aims have been apparent for some time: (1) neutralization of Ukraine, and a guarantee that it will never become a NATO member; (2) recognition of Russia’s annexations of Crimea, and the Russian-speaking areas in eastern Donbass. For its part, Kyiv’s bottom line is the preservation of Ukrainian sovereignty. In recent days, the foreign ministers of Ukraine and Russia have met three times. Although no agreement has been reached as of yet, both sides indicated that progress has been made, and that there was some reason for optimism. Some key issues have yet to be nailed down, including meaningful security guarantees for post-conflict Ukraine, and a firm commitment by Moscow to make a major contribution to re-constructing Ukraine. Also, as part of a peace agreement, the Kremlin likely will insist that the sanctions imposed on Russia be lifted, which would require Washington’s assent.
According to press reports, the outlines of a possible agreement are coming into focus. Ukraine will pledge to abjure membership in NATO, and to accept a non-aligned—neutral—status. On this latter point, the Cold War examples of Finland and Austria are the models for post-war Ukraine. Finland fought the Soviet Union in the Winter War of 1939-40, and again (on Nazi Germany’s side) in World War II. After the war, in exchange for its neutrality, and for refraining from following an anti-Soviet foreign policy, Finland was able to remain independent with respect to its domestic governance. Austria was annexed by, and incorporated into, Nazi Germany in 1938. When World War II ended, the victorious Allies (the U.S., Soviet Union, Britain, and France) divided Austria (and Vienna) into four occupation zones (similar to what was done with Germany and Berlin). In 1955, the four Allies agreed to the Austrian State Treaty, and withdrew their occupation forces. Pursuant to the treaty, Austria regained its independence in exchange for its pledge to remain neutral, and to refrain from joining either NATO or its Soviet-dominated counterpart in East-Central Europe (the Warsaw Pact).
Even as Russian and Ukrainian officials continue talks aimed ending the war, there is a puzzle that needs explaining about America’s share of responsibility for this conflict. If the press reports are correct, the crisis almost certainly could have been resolved on the terms now being discussed before the fighting started. The question is why this did not happen. U.S. intelligence about Russia’s preparations for war was (apparently) pretty much bang on. Five days before Russian troops invaded Ukraine, President Biden said Putin had already given the order to attack. Armed with this knowledge Washington could possibly have avoided the outbreak of hostilities by indicating a willingness to engage seriously with Moscow on the issue of Ukrainian NATO membership. Yet during the run-up to war, the Biden administration (and NATO secretary-general Jens Stoltenberg) steadfastly refused to alter the alliance’s so-called open-door policy. This raises the question of why the United States rigidly adhered to its position. After all, American officials surely knew that if war began, Ukraine would bear the brunt of the costs in both human terms and physical damage.
Yet another puzzle is this: although both the Ukrainians and Russians have expressed some optimism about the peace talks, on March 17. Secretary of State Antony Blinken dismissed the notion that a peace settlement can be reached. As he said, “The actions we’re seeing Russia take every single day, virtually every minute of every day, are in contrast to any serious effort to end the war.” Every day the war continues, more Ukrainian civilians are killed, and the destruction of Ukraine’s cities continues. One might think that—given that the two belligerents are talking—the United States would publicly support those peace talks rather than, as the Financial Times described it, pouring cold water on them.
There are still more puzzles. Why, for example, are Biden (and vice-president Kamala Harris and Blinken) demonizing Putin as a “war criminal?” Indeed, Biden, in a St. Patrick’s Day speech, turned up the rhetorical heat even higher by calling Putin a “murderous dictator.” This personalizes the conflict, which will make it more difficult to resolve. Russia may have—as the administration said during the run-up to war—a geopolitical play book. But so does the U.S. And Washington’s go-to play call is demonizing the opponent, and turning the conflict into a moral crusade. Indeed, since taking office Biden’s approach to foreign policy has been to characterize international politics as a contest between autocracies versus democracies. As Biden put it in his St. Patrick’s Day address, “I think we’re in a genuine struggle between autocracies and democracies, and whether or not democracies can be sustained.” This hyperbolic language is strikingly reminiscent of NSC-68, the document that transformed the post-World War II U.S.-Soviet relationship into a zero-sum, virulent ideological conflict. Mentally, Biden and the American foreign policy establishment, are still mired in a Cold War mindset. This kind of talk we are hearing from Biden (and others) may indulge the liberal internationalist need for virtue signaling, but it complicates the task of ending war through negotiations. Diplomacy requires give and take, an ability to understand the other side’s interests and motives, and an ability to make judicious compromises. Once the adversary is characterized as the epitome of evil, however, that all goes out the window.
This takes us to a final puzzle. Given the Biden administration’s characterization of the conflict—and Putin—if a peace accord is reached, how it will walk back this reckless talk and explain Washington’s approval of the settlement? This raises the question of Washington’s war aims. Specifically, whether the U.S. goal is to achieve regime change in the Kremlin. There is evidence pointing in this direction. Indeed, as the New York Times reported, although the White House says the United States is not pursuing regime change, “Mr. Putin would have good reason to think the Biden administration is looking forward to his exit” and, speaking off the record, “American officials say that they cannot imagine that Ukraine could be safe from Russian military action while Mr. Putin ... is still in office.” The punishing sanctions imposed on Moscow seem intended to crash the Russian economy. As the New York Times reported, the draconian sanctions “ignited questions in Washington and in European capitals over whether cascading events in Russia could lead to regime change, or rulership collapse, which President Biden and European leaders are careful to avoid mentioning.” It appears they certainly are thinking about it, however. And some, in fact, have vocalized the thought. French Finance Minister Bruno Le Maire said the U.S. and Europe are “waging an all-out economic and financial war on Russia” to “cause the collapse of the Russian economy,” and a spokesman for British Prime Minister said the sanctions “intended to bring down the Putin regime.”
If the goal of U.S. policy indeed, is to crash the Russian economy—and remove Putin from power—this is a risky gambit. Cornered nations lash out. In July 1941, Washington imposed an oil embargo on Japan, cutting off its main source of oil. With its oil supplies—its economic lifeblood—dwindling, Tokyo adopted a two-pronged strategy of seizing Indonesia’s oil fields, and attacking Pearl Harbor to ensure the U.S. navy would be unable to stop Japan’s drive into Southeast Asia. In the Biden administration, there is some awareness of the “Cornered Putin Problem” but, when asked if this meant the U.S. would ease off sanctions, a senior official said “Quite the contrary.”
If regime change is Washington’s actual—if unstated—aim (or hope), it needs to do a re-think. This war is not just about “he” but about “they”—the Russian foreign policy elite. International politics is a complex business. In assessing a state’s grand strategy, there are multiple drivers. For sure leadership (and agency) matter. But there are historical, cultural, and structural forces that also matter. And often more. Russia without Putin would still be Russia, and it would still be concerned—as it has been for centuries—with safeguarding its security by establishing a sphere of influence on its borders. With or without Putin the Kremlin would still be concerned with upholding Russia’s status and prestige. It is difficult to imagine any Russian leader who would accept Ukraine as a member of NATO, or be content with a European security architecture based on a U.S.-led Cold War security alliance.
The Kremlin (not just Putin) is unlikely to accept a defeat in the war with Ukraine. The longer the war goes on, the greater Moscow’s incentive to go after the supply lines bringing U.S./NATO military assistance to Ukraine. That would mean a heightened chance of a direct military clash between the U.S./NATO and Russia. Also, the longer the war goes on, the more political pressure Biden will face to step up support Ukraine. Not just with more weapons, but Kyiv will continue pressing the issue of a no-fly zone, and should the war turn against Ukraine, for direct U.S./NATO military intervention.
In the early days of the Iraq war, Gen. David Petraeus famously asked, “Tell me how this ends?” As the New York Times reported, with respect to Ukraine the “question resonating around the White House is more like: ‘Tell me how we don’t get sucked into a superpower conflict.’” The answer to that question, of course, is a negotiated end to the war. But for the Biden administration, this is not a straightforward proposition. Having described Putin as a “murderous dictator,” Washington’s endorsement of a peace accord may be dismissed as “appeasement” by domestic critics. Moreover, for the United States, the stakes in Ukraine radiate outward to East Asia. The Biden administration is using this war to send a signal about American resolve and credibility to Beijing. And, in so doing, to preserve the so-called liberal rules-based international order that the United States created after World War II. In so doing, the administration has backed itself into its own corner. With these stakes believed to be on the line, Washington is likely to reject any outcome in Ukraine that appears to get Putin off the hook. This augurs badly for the chances of de-escalating and resolving the Ukraine conflict.
Christopher Layne is University Distinguished Professor of International Affairs and Robert M. Gates Chair in National Security at Texas A&M University.
Image: Wikimedia Commons.
