World

Ask three different people whether Russian President Vladimir Putin will approve an invasion of Ukraine, and you are likely to get three different answers. Yes, a Russian land, air, and sea blitz is inevitable and will come in fairly short order, likely without warning. Yes, a Russian invasion is possible, but could still be averted with some shrewd diplomacy. Or, no, surely Putin understands an invasion would be a disaster for his legacy and his country’s economy. In the midst of all of this comes wild speculation about what Putin is thinking at any given moment, how the weather may factor into his calculations, and what the Russian government’s end goal really is. What can be said for certain, however, is that diplomacy has picked up significantly over the past week.

When it is 1938 in Washington, it is already past midnight in Moscow. The clock is ticking and the map of Europe is being redrawn, but this is not a Munich moment. We are now past that, and past the time when the leader of a Western democracy might have the honesty to admit to his public, as Neville Chamberlain did in 1938, that he doesn’t want to fight a war over “a quarrel in a faraway country between people of which we know little.” The shadow of Munich shames and intimidates the leaders of the Western democracies, and not without reason. But if there is a Munich moment in the latest Ukraine crisis, then it happened nearly seven years ago — in 2015, when the Obama administration backed the Minsk II accords and the dismemberment of Ukraine.

In the coming days, if intelligence assessments are accurate, the world will watch the unfolding of a bloody war between Russia and Ukraine. It will make history for all the wrong reasons, as the largest armed conflict since World War Two. And while Moscow would almost certainly defeat Kyiv on the battlefield, the real story will be the horror unleashed by the first modern war fought between nations of real consequence in decades. Such a war would showcase military modernizations that, while well-known, will still shock most Americans and change our perception that war in the twenty-first century is anything but cost-free. Worst of all, there's chance that a Russia-Ukraine war might not be contained to just those two countries, sucking in America in the process.

Landing in Moscow on February 7, French President Emmanuel Macron had a twinkle in his eye and a spring in his step. There he was, taking it upon himself to be the first European head-of-state to meet Russian President Vladimir Putin since over 130,000 Russian troops massed on Ukraine’s border from three sides. Macron's mission was to explore whether a de-escalation with Russia was possible. “I believe that our continent is today in an eminently critical situation, which requires us all to be extremely responsible,” he told reporters before his five-hour session with Putin began. The other option, what could be the largest land war in Europe since World War II, would be far worse.

While American and Russian officials are yelling at one another in the UN Security Council chamber, another international actor has found itself at the little kids’ table: Europe. It's possible the phrase “little kids’ table” is too harsh. To be fair, French president Emmanuel Macron is at least in direct communication with Russian president Vladimir Putin and urging his European colleagues to formulate a joint European negotiating position on the Ukraine question. France is also a chief mediator of the Normandy Format, which seeks to resolve the eight-year conflict in Ukraine’s Donbas region. But Macron is largely an outlier on his own continent.

As the Ukraine crisis continues to develop, it has become impossible to avoid mentioning Georgia and its relations with the West. This is not only due to the similarities in the two countries' geopolitical circumstances, but also because Georgia is explicitly mentioned with Ukraine in President Putin's demands to the West to forego any future NATO expansion. Like Ukraine, for years, Georgia has sat in the uncomfortable position of being pro-Western without enjoying the protections afforded by membership in both NATO and the European Union. Yet a country that was once a staunch Western ally has become mired in accusations of authoritarianism, behind-the-scenes governance, and covert pro-Russian sentiment. Georgia and Ukraine have occupied a unique position in the post-Soviet space.

With shocking speed, talk in Washington has shifted from disunity among the Democrats and Joe Biden’s unhappy first year to possible war in Europe. The Putin government is reinforcing units poised to invade Ukraine. Washington is sending weapons to Kyiv. The United States and United Kingdom have begun to evacuate embassy personnel. President Biden is considering sending additional troops to garrison NATO member states. But for what? Why is the United States so thoroughly entangled in a conflict not its own? Not for reasons of history Throughout most of America’s relatively short existence, Ukraine was part of either the Russian Empire or Soviet Union.

Lost in the endless debate about whether Russia will invade Ukraine is the real reason that Moscow — armed with nuclear weapons and one of the most advanced militaries on the planet — feels so threatened by its neighbors, the NATO alliance, and ultimately the United States. While the expansion of NATO in the 1990s plays a big role, it is Russia’s everlasting internal debate about its place in the world that is the real source of tension. It's a historical black hole no one wants to get sucked into, but unless resolved it has the potential to be a source of armed conflict the likes of which Europe has not witnessed since World War II. Geography and history are both a blessing and a curse for Russia.