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Ukraine vs. Darkness
The time I spent in Vienna gave me a better understanding both of the West, and my own country—as I could see Ukraine against the backdrop and in the context of European political events (and there were plenty of those in 2015–2020!). The desire to bring Ukraine into this context was my inspiration when writing this book. Partly it is addressed to Ukraine, and partly to the outside world (primarily the EU and the United States). When I write “we”, I mostly mean Ukraine. When I write “you”, I mostly mean the West. Honest disclaimer: both parts are equally undiplomatic. By “undiplomatic” I mean honest and occasionally unpleasant—to “us” and to “you”. Well, I spoke my heart. I tried to explain Ukraine to the West and vice versa—and it only makes sense if you call things by their name. Don’t hold it against me, if I paint the future too darkly—we Ukrainians tend to do that sometimes. But also consider what a dark time we live in.
For a whole number of reasons (both personal, and objective), my return to diplomacy during wartime was my moment of truth, my ultimate chance to prove I was worth my salt both as a diplomat and as Ukrainian. Which I honestly, with all my heart, tried to do. It was also, in a way, my chance for a small experiment: to build the embassy as a “miniature Ukraine”, a tiny part of my country where the decisions were mostly up to me and where I could therefore make sure that the last word belonged not to personal egos and bureaucracy, but fairness and, most importantly, common sense.
Most decisions that I made as ambassador were based on my conscience and reason, not on the bureaucratic survival instinct. In my official capacity, in all my conversations and interactions, including numerous op-eds, interviews, and activities on social media—I was, in the first place a free man representing a free nation. I know some people found it suspicious, and even unprofessional. Maybe there’s some truth in what these people say, although it can’t be purely coincidence that most of them are also big friends of Russia. As to me personally—I found it exhilarating to be a diplomat who speaks the truth.
My understanding of the diplomatic profession was shaped by Sir Harold Nicolson’s 1939 book “Diplomacy.”1 In particular, it stuck with me that, contrary to the wide-spread misconception, Nicolson put truthfulness and free-thinking among the most important diplomatic virtues. When writing this book, I was trying to be both: free and truthful. You can see it as my personal attempt to reconcile the usual constraints of the diplomatic service (secrecy, discreetness) with a desire and maybe even the duty to say what needs to be said at this decisive time—to my country and my country’s partners.
Becoming an ambassador is a dream come true for any diplomat. Yet, it just so happened that the highest point of my life came at the hardest time for my country. Ukraine was bleeding. It still is. And because we live in a time of a weak collective West, in many cases, Ukraine has been carrying this immense burden alone, courageously looking in the face of an enemy that instills the rest of the world with fear. Courage is a rare commodity these days, but not in Ukraine.
Very often when Europe and the world were undergoing a major change in the last three decades, Ukraine had a key role to play. It was the Ukrainian Independence referendum of December 1st, 1991, that put an end to the Soviet Union. It was the Orange revolution of 2004 that showed the European idea as a transformational factor sprouted in the post-Soviet space—and stayed there for good. It was the 2013–2014 Revolution of Dignity that didn’t let freedom die in this part of the world.
On the other hand, it was the failure of the Orange revolution in Ukraine that sped up Russia’s descent into authoritarianism. It was the failure of Ukrainian reforms that robbed not only Ukraine but almost the entire region of a positive perspective. It was the decisions of Viktor Yanukovych in 2013–2014 that triggered an escalation in the region. Ukraine is the cornerstone. We just don’t know exactly of what yet. She sees herself as Europe’s eastern flank. On the other hand, Putin & Co. see her as the core of the coming USSR 2.0. On my part, I can’t imagine any kind of Ukraine’s return under Russia’s shadow. Not anymore.
Despite all the democratic strides of the last decades, today is a bad time for mankind. Stephen Hawking, the brilliant mind of our time, before passing away in 2018, pegged our era as the most dangerous period in modern history—due to mankind’s divide into a relatively tiny cast of “successful” and an overwhelming majority of the “forgotten.”2 Germany’s former foreign minister Joschka Fischer predicted the end of the transatlantic West and even the demise of United Europe.3 The president of the US Council on Foreign Relations Richard N. Haas titled his column “Liberal world order, RIP!”4 Too pessimistic? Is it just about “liberal world order” or about “la liberté” as such, the concept of freedom as an inalienable right that has been so fundamental for the West, especially in the second half of the 20th century? It certainly sounds to me as if the worst-case scenario is to be taken seriously now. And many answers about Europe’s future depend on what happens to Ukraine.
The collective West of today and especially of tomorrow will be choosing between a reality based on truth—and the intellectual and spiritual blur of the post-truth world, where (to borrow Peter Pomerantsev’s fitting description of the world that Vladimir Putin has created in Russia and is trying to sell to the West) “nothing is true and everything is possible.”5 In other words, it will be a choice between a West of values and a West that is valueless. It’s still unclear who and what will prevail in the end. But I’m convinced: if it wasn’t for the bravery of the ordinary Ukrainians standing up for freedom, if it wasn’t for Ukraine’s readiness to fight back, the “post-truth” world, the world with zero distinction between good and evil, would have been celebrating a victory a long time ago.
Yes, it’s yet another turn of Europe’s newest history where Ukraine has a role to play. The role of someone who stands up for what she believes in and who shows that caving in to the enemy isn’t necessarily inevitable. In a pragmatic (some might even say, cowardly) world, we fight and bleed for freedom. And who knows, maybe Ukraine’s readiness to do that, will eventually remind some people in the “free world” that freedom is worth fighting for.
1 https://www.amazon.com/Diplomacy-Sir-Harold-George-Nicolson/dp/0934742529
2 https://www.theguardian.com/commentisfree/2016/dec/01/stephen-hawking-dangerous-time-planet-inequality
3 https://www.kiwi-verlag.de/verlag/rights/book/joschka-fischer-der-abstieg-des-westens-9783462052923
4 https://www.cfr.org/article/liberal-world-order-rip
5 https://www.amazon.com/Nothing-True-Everything-Possible-Surreal/dp/1610396006
For Whom the Bell Tolls
The world had a good run in 1990–2010. Not without setbacks, like the Balkan war or Putin’s ascent to power in Russia, with the ensuing bloodbath in Chechnya and the assault on Georgia—but in general, those were the two decades characterized rather by optimism and growth than despair and downturn. The USSR-led “Empire of Evil” ceased to exist. Democracy was on the march. Many Central and Eastern Europeans found freedom, prosperity, and a new geopolitical home in the EU and NATO. The globalized humankind grew richer, lived longer, traveled more, got to know each other better. Even the global financial crisis of 2008 didn’t sour the mood in the world.
In 2008, Fareed Zakaria’s beautifully written monograph “Post-American World”1 envisioned the dawn of a new era, where the rise of the West and the rise of the “rest” wouldn’t be mutually exclusive anymore. Probably back then, Mr. Zakaria wasn’t wrong; this kind of a win-win reality was indeed within reach. If only all of the “rest” had wanted it!
Well, a new era did come. But not the one Fareed Zakaria hoped for.
Vladimir Putin’s speech in Munich of 2007 and his invasion of Georgia in 2008 were the writing on the wall, but most people in the West chose to misread it. We know why. On the one hand, the EU was created in the post-World War Two world not to tackle enemies but to find compromises, to balance things out for the sake of a peaceful co-existence. The NATO predicated on the assumption that Russia is a difficult partner of a new kind and not an unsolved problem from the past. The very idea that despite the West’s peaceful demeanor and rhetoric, the Russian Federation would eventually switch from Khrushchev-like speeches to Hitler-like annexations was unimaginable in the mid-2000s. It probably didn’t occur even to EU’s gloomiest eggheads.
On the other hand, for the United States, all of a sudden seeing Russia for what it was (a reborn, resurgent, vengeful enemy) amid the 21st century would be tantamount to recognizing that the Cold War wasn’t really won by America, but rather put on hold during the Yeltsin rule in the 1990s and restarted under Putin in the 2000s. It would also require recognition that Putin’s nationalist resurgence had not been duly treated politically or militarily by the United States (or anybody else, for that matter). Neither Brussels nor Washington were ready to admit their mistakes or rethink their perception of Russia, let alone their perception of history. So, many decision-makers chose to be deaf and blind to the new growing threat. Even Putin’s invasion of Georgia in 2008 didn’t stop the West from starting yet another reset with Moscow (i.e. forgiving what Moscow did).
“The ex-captive nations”, as Edward Lucas has appositely called Ukraine, Moldova, and Georgia,2 were less enthused than others in these two decades. And this for two reasons. First, in the era of global growth, their people remained poor. Second, in the age of other Eastern and Central Europeans moving towards the EU and NATO, the future of these countries remained unclear. The EU failed to provide them with even the vaguest roadmap towards membership (although even a mere informal “Once you will be ready, you will be in” pat on a shoulder would have sufficed), and NATO didn’t dare accept them. They were left back in EU’s and America’s blind spot—while Putin’s resurgent Russia kept pressing on. So, it was your classic “between the rock and a hard place” kind of a situation.
The in-between countries seemed like a possible battlefield—not because the West saw this region as its part of the global pie and was willing to fight for it, but rather because dropping this part of the pie altogether would have been too messy and too humiliating. And yet it was “dropped”. And it got messy. And it got humiliating—at first in Syria, where the EU and NATO were remarkably absent and where the United States was actively confronted by the Russian Federation but chose not to push back. And then Ukraine got attacked and was left bleeding—for sticking up for the West and undermining Putin’s chances of rebuilding a USSR 2.0.
When addressing the US Congress in September 2014, Ukraine’s President Petro Poroshenko asked America to supply Ukraine’s army with lethal weapons to push back against Russian aggression. He uttered the words that went viral in political Washington: Ukrainian soldiers “need more military equipment—both non-lethal and lethal. Blankets and night-vision goggles are important, but one cannot win a war with blankets”. The State Department wasn’t happy. Poroshenko wasn’t supposed to ask for lethal weapons—and yet, he did. He did what a president does: he said what was on his citizens’ minds. But on the minds of the State Department apparently was: let’s not anger Russia!
I know this because I wrote that speech—and was almost certain that “the blanket” part would be left out (working outside of Poroshenko’s presidential administration, I couldn’t follow up and be sure what would happen with the text). I was criticized later for that line. Frankly, I still don’t know why it didn’t get kiboshed and why the speech was read almost exactly as I wrote it. But an even bigger mystery to me is this: how could a mere mentioning of giving Ukraine—America’s key partner in the region—a weapon to defend herself in a truly existential fight, cause this kind of reaction?
Ukraine and Syria weren’t just “a canary in the coal mine”. The two nations chose freedom over despotism and both were punished for it. One was bombed out; the other is being destroyed in a more sophisticated way. In the meantime, nothing has changed: the “free world” wants to be partners with the side who destroys freedom. How is this even possible?
The Trump presidency hasn’t been a good time for Ukraine-US relations, largely due to Mr. Trump’s personal animosity towards Ukraine and apparent affinity with Russia. Ukraine doesn’t have a problem with Donald Trump and even less with the Republican party—it was the US president who seemed to personally have a problem with Ukraine. But again, it all started before the 45th president got elected. In 2014, when asked by Thomas Friedman of the New York Times, what happens if President Vladimir Putin rolls his troops into Ukraine, Barack Obama responded that in that case, there would be new sanctions and that “trying to find our way back to a cooperative functioning relationship with Russia during the remainder of my term … [would] be much more difficult.”3 This cold, passionless response amid August 2014, the bloodiest month of Russia’s war on Ukraine’s freedom, left many Ukrainians speechless.
With all due respect, I think that if America wants to be seen as a leader of the West, if it is worried about the “cooperative functioning relationship” not only with murdering dictators, but also with the freedom-loving countries who get harassed by those dictators; if the very term “free world” isn’t to end up in the dustbin of history—then the United States and the West more generally can’t afford to be so vague in drawing the line between good and evil. Even more so, they certainly can’t afford to draw no line at all, as happened during the infamous Putin/Trump press conference in Helsinki, 2018.
In Georgia, Ukraine and Syria, Putin declared a global war on freedom. A war that the West chose not to see in its true dimension because it wasn’t the West who was bleeding. After Ukraine, it was the turn of Belarus. Hundreds of thousands got beaten, suppressed, and harassed in Minsk and other Belarusian cities, with Russia’s clear backing. Meanwhile, “the free world” was almost openly looking for a compromise with Moscow over the destiny of this sovereign nation. Remember the numerous tweets and articles discussing whether “the Armenian model” (a full and official refusal to pursue the EU- and NATO-membership in exchange for Russia’s support) would be the right “deal” for Belarus? Ironically, right after this, the Armenian-Azerbaijani war flamed up.
Time and again, the West tries to find something that doesn’t exist: a compromise between freedom and unfreedom. The sad irony is: Moscow doesn’t bother to give the West even an appearance of a “deal”. Time and again, it sends the West a clear message: in the post-Soviet space, in “Russia’s backyard”—and at any place in the world that it proclaims its “zone of interest”—Moscow doesn’t compromise. It wants it all, and it wants it now—while the West can discuss “mutual face-saving options”, “diplomatic solutions”, “multilateral negotiation formats” till it’s blue in the face—and make a reset after a reset after a reset. Reset is what politicians do when they don’t know what to do. Or if they don’t have the guts to do the right thing.
Georgia, Syria, Ukraine, Belarus …—the list will inevitably grow with years, as the world’s nations won’t stop choosing freedom over unfreedom. At some point, Russia might be on the list too. How long is the “free world” planning to look away, as the Russian leadership, these empty-eyed ex-KGB operatives, will cement despotism wherever their tentacles reach? And their tentacles get longer with every year.
Vladimir Putin has created a kind of an around-the-clock global repair service for broken dictatorships: the number one go-to destination for failing authoritarian leaders the world over. So far, it does the job, with thousands of people dead, with new democracies bleeding, and with the West either passively watching or eagerly co-financing this political enterprise via joint ventures like the Nordstream-2 pipeline.
At some point, the US and EU will have to face the bitter truth: Russia chose to confront the West. It wasn’t forced to. It had other options—plenty of those. Yet it chose a covert global face-off instead of a win-win world. It decided on a strategy to undermine the West wherever it can. There is nothing the West can do to change this decision. It can either push back or look away, as Russia pushes on. No number of resets, peaceful speeches, friendly handshakes, and visits to the May 9th Victory Day parade in Moscow will make Putin reconsider his attitude. This for one simple reason: the confrontation mode is the one in which the Kremlin functions best and feels most comfortable, and through which the world makes most sense for today’s Russian leadership (for their electorate too, for that matter). All the friendly gestures aimed at assuaging the hostility will only persuade Russia that Putin was right in pegging the West as weak and corruptible.
No, the Soviet Union isn’t back. Not yet. Not without Ukraine—and Ukraine, despite all her flaws, isn’t budging. Ukraine has the guts to stand her ground. However, in some respect, today’s Russia is even more dangerous than the Soviet Union—primarily because it is more capable of getting inside the minds and souls of Western citizens, inside their pocketbooks and notebooks, inside their television and social media.
That’s why, by the way, the whole “We need to partner up with Russia to tackle China” argument doesn’t hold water. First of all, China is still a closed book for the West, and the West is a closed book for China. If China wants to undermine the West one way or another, it is impeded by the fact that it is so different mentally and historically. And vice versa. Second of all, China has a different sense of time. It can wait—unlike Russia, who sees this moment of the West’s weakness as a unique, historic opportunity to go on the offensive. Third of all, for Russia, this is payback time. For China, payback for what? Unlike Russia, China is not beset by an inferiority complex. China is a success—Russia isn’t, far from it. More than this, China became successful together with the West and because of the West, not despite it. So, once again—why destroy the world order that made China a success?
Whenever I hear the phrase “Russia isn’t the problem, China is!” I know I deal with someone who doesn’t know Russia (let alone China). And sometimes—with someone who has a vested interest in appeasing Putin and belittling the danger he represents. Did China bomb Syria and annex Crimea? Did China proclaim and adopt the “Gerasimov Doctrine”? Did China hire and inspire a whole army of “talking heads” in the news outlets and think tanks to undermine western societies? Did China fill social media with trolls posing as Americans, Germans, Brits? Did China finance anti-EU political parties all over the continent?
All the loose strings that the West has—Moscow knows how to pull them. From exploiting the interracial tensions to messing with democratic elections and from cultivating political intolerance to spreading the QAnon crackpot ideas. Provided the right mindset and a lot of money (both of which Putin has), the West has turned out to be a surprisingly easy target. At least, as long as the United States and the European Union put up with things going this way. Victory is an accomplishment—failure is a decision. So, dear America and Europe, be careful what you decide at this critical juncture of history!
Russia won’t stop till it’s made to stop. And there is a simple way to reach that goal if one has the guts to do it: make the sanctions as personal as possible. Let the Russian decision-makers, propagandists, oligarchs, and their families spend their vacations on Kamchatka and Chukotka, not in their England castles and Italian villas. Cancel their “golden passports”. Go after their money, cut them off from their wealth—via SWIFT, via visa bans, via freezing their bank accounts. Make not only their reputations toxic, but their money too.
That’s it. That’s all it takes. Start defending yourself—and be bold enough to not be greedy! Russia quickly penetrates your world because it can think like you; it knows how you tick. It wants to live like you and among you, too—without being your friend or even an honest partner. It’s a quintessential love/hate relationship. They hate you, but at the same time, you are their “promised land”, the place where they want their children to study and to live. Ban the decision-makers personally from the “promised land”—and they will be forced to change their decisions, their whole attitude towards the outside world. On the other hand, embrace them—and they will despise you even more.
Meanwhile, Ukraine (Putin’s sweatiest dream and sweetest bonus) is doing what she can on her own—fighting her own demons and the demons of the post-truth world simultaneously. The nation is never full of herself. Yet she is full of surprises. Whenever you think Ukraine is toast, she rises from the ashes. Whenever you think Ukraine is rushing into a new positive future, she finds a new political or moral crisis to stop and argue about. The world thinks of Ukraine as a corrupt nation—and yet, as I pointed out before, during Ukraine’s two revolutions, not a single store was looted. With the police off the streets, with Kyiv’s posh boutiques, shops, and supermarkets being at the mercy of the protesters in 2004 and 2013–14, not only were they not robbed—by some accounts, the usual burglary rate even decreased in those months.
So, who are we really—the corrupt ones or the idealists who fight for freedom and respect other peoples’ private property even when no one is watching? Well, we are both so far. With a large part of Ukraine’s political elite living a lie, we have been living a lie, too. But ultimately, Ukraine wants to live in truth. Hence, the two revolutions. Hence, Putin’s inability to buy or seduce us. Hence, the lingering hybrid war between Ukraine and the post-truth world embodied by Russia and its eager helpers in the West.
With the right leadership, with the right words and deeds on the part of the elite—Ukraine can turn the corner and enter a better future real fast. We are like a plane chained to the ground by two things: bad governance and corruption (caused by bad governance). Break these chains—and the plane will fly. What we need are reforms to Ukraine’s institutions, which nurture the corruption. We need to bring in the ministers and their deputies, the mid-level decision-makers who have the vision, reputation, and the guts to say no to the oligarchs and to the daily seductions of the public service. Once this happens, things will improve drastically and precipitously. Later on, I demonstrate in more detail how this can be done.
We Ukrainians know our sins. No one is more critical of Ukraine than we are. Yet, sometimes we deny our country even the credit she deserves. Sometimes we are blind to how much power and potential we have inside. That is why we are the “surprise nation”. We have surprised ourselves and the outside world in the past. And we are not done yet, far from it. I don’t only mean the two Maidans that changed the run of history in our region.
Most importantly, Ukraine is the bulwark in Putin’s way to reconquering what he deems as rightfully and historically his. If he can’t control Ukraine, all his other accomplishments are, if not completely worthless, then at least not as inspirational for future generations as he wants them to be. Without Ukraine, his whole legacy would be questionable. Without Ukraine, his entire organization, this horde of KGB/FSB orcs, war-mongering “girkins” and “borodais,”4 who stand behind him and look up to him, would question whether the boss got too old and lost his grip.
Ukraine and Russia have much in common. That is why the Ukrainian revolution is, to some extent, the Russian revolution too. It’s not like bringing a revolution to Russia, and changing it from the ground up must be the West’s goal. Far from it. Yet the line in the sand must be drawn: the world must make sure that neither Russia nor anyone else messes with other nations’ free will. International law must be respected again. At least, if we want to live in a world that is not 100% hypocritical.